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From: "Samantha" <samanthak@fastmail.fm>
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Subject: {ASSM} Sam - Part 15  (FF, MF, tort, exhib, size, viol)
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Date: Sun, 24 Sep 2006 16:10:04 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Sam - Part15.doc" begin>

Sam - Part 15

by Samantha K
(FF, MF, tort, exhib, size, viol)
[comments welcome: SamanthaK(at)fastmail.fm]

In the morning, I woke up hot and horny.  The sheets were damp
from perspiration and there was an itchy ball of heat inside my
pussy that was screaming to be quenched.  I opened my eyes and
looked over at my bed-mate, who was looking back at me with one
eyebrow raised.

"You can't be horny already!" she said.  

"You're not?"

"No!  I'm sore from last night.  You got Jim so worked up that he
pounded me harder than ever before."

"Gee, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be.  It was fantastic!  But I need to recuperate a little
before I get back in the saddle again, pardner.  You mosey on
over across the hall and get yourself a poke while I do some
chores."

'Doing some chores' meant she would go down and feed the dog for
me.  I wanted to warn her again about letting him get too rough
with her, but I held my tongue.

She caught my thought anyway.

"Don't worry.  I'll be careful.  It's just that he surprised me
before.  I wasn't ready."

I slid out of bed and walked unsteadily to the door, flapping my
shortie nightgown on the way to dry some of the perspiration. 
Without even bothering to shower, I went out into the hall, where
I paused to decide if I should pick door #1 or door #2 this
morning.  The idea of doing something new won out and I went
across the hall to Jim's room and opened the door a crack.  The
room was dark.  The blinds were closed.  Being on the north side
of the house it didn't get the morning sun like mine did, but my
eyes adjusted to the gloom almost instantly and I saw Jim lying
sprawled on his bed with the sheet half off his lean, muscular
body and his cock, stiff with morning-wood, lying across his
hipbone and throbbing with his heartbeat.

Before I knew it, I was standing by the bed staring at that cock.
 My hands were roaming my body and I was breathing like a steam
engine.  The dampness between my legs felt like it was turning in
to a flood, boiling over from the heat that was raging inside
me.

I knelt by the bed and leaned over the edge.  I gently put my
lips over the tip of his cock and started to suck it slowly into
my mouth.  The hot taste of it made my saliva flow and I used it
to coat the big head so I could slide more of it into my mouth.

I almost had my jaw opened far enough to take the whole head
inside, when Jim began to respond to me by moving his hips,
pushing more of his cock into my face.  I pulled off before he
could wedge more of it inside and let a mouthful of spit drool
out over the bulbous head, lubricating it for my next trick.

I crawled onto the bed, being careful not to wake him yet.  I
straddled his hips and carefully guided his cock between my legs.
 Holding myself open with one hand, I lowered my pussy over the
head and pushed down until it popped through the tight ring and
into my vagina.

I had several inches inside me and I was opening my cervix as
wide as I could in anticipation of plunging him fully inside me
when his eyes flickered open and he  moaned.

"Mmmmmm.  Good morning, Sam."

"Good morning.  I hope you don't mind me helping myself.  Your
cock was calling out to me in your sleep."

"Really?  I didn't hear any thing."

"You wouldn't.  It's another one of my special abilities.  Cocks
talk to me."

"What do they say?"

I was ready by this time.  I arched my back and forced myself
down onto his cock, driving it all the way into me.  I gasped as
it hit the back wall of my womb.  God, it was big!

"Please fuck me!"

I don't know if I was answering his question or stating my need.
Whichever, he pushed up with his legs, driving his hips off the
bed and his cock completely into my quivering body.  My pussy
responded by gripping the stiff intruder and trying to pull it
deeper still.

"Oh, jeez!  That's fantastic," he said.  "It feels like lots of
slick fingers pulling on me.  Can you do that harder?"

I could, and I did.  Neither of us moved as I rippled my muscles,
using my pussy to pull and suck on suck his cock.  The feeling
was wonderful for both of us and I kept doing it faster and
harder.

"Hooo, wow!  Oh, keep that up!  Oh, that feels incredible!  It
feels like I'm plugged into a milking machine and it's going to
suck all the cum right out of my balls!"

That was exactly what I had in mind.  My need for his cum was
starting to make me even crazier than usual and I spread my legs
so far apart that the tendons began to stretch and pop.  I threw
off my nightgown and put his hands on both my breasts, pushing
his fingers deep into my flesh.

Jim knew my special needs by now.  He roughly squeezed and pulled
at me as I pushed my shoulders and head back and surrendered my
breasts to him.

The additional stimulation pushed me almost to the edge of
control.  I gripped his cock tightly and wrung it like dishrag
with my internal muscles.  I pulled it hard, throwing my abdomen
into spasms as I tried my strength against his hardness.

It was too much for him.  He suddenly gripped my breasts hard,
mashing them with his fingers like bread dough.  He thrashed his
legs like he was trying to get away, then pushed up with his hips
and gave me what I came for.  

We both grunted like pigs.  Jim from the sudden force of his
climax, and me from feeling his hot cum fired into me with
amazing force.  I tried to relax my pussy so as not to impede the
flow and it seemed to help.  He fell back and went limp as his
cock pumped away, filling me to the brim, and more.

As soon as the last drop had been transferred, I pulled off his
cock and rolled off the bed.

"Thanks," I said, picking up my sheer gown and dancing to the
door.

"No!  Thank you!  Come again soon, you hear?" He said, giggling
at my fuck and run antics.

I hadn't planned it, but I had managed to make Jim pop so quickly
that an idea had come to me and, since there was time, I wanted
to try it.  I let my self out of Jim's room and skipped down the
hall to Bud's.

This time, when I opened the door, the light was on and Bud was
awake.  Boy, was he awake!  He was on his back on the bed with
one hand squeezing the base of his big cock and the other
stroking the length of it all the way to the head.  From the
contorted look on his face he was about to blow his load and I
needed to act fast if I wanted it in me.

I quickly closed the door behind me and dashed to the bed.  I
climbed on and lay down beside him.

"Hi." I said.  He stopped stroking so hard, but kept his hand
moving.

"I woke up thinking about last night," he explained.  "I couldn't
wait to see if you were coming.  I had to start without you."

"That's perfectly OK," I said.  "But let's get that in me right
away, before there is an accident."

"But I'm almost about to cum.  I'm past the point of stopping."

"Give it to me!  I want your cum!  Please don't waste it."

I must have been convincing.  He turned over on top of me and I
spread for him, locking my heels behind his butt as he forced his
cock roughly into me. I was so wet and stretched from fucking Jim
that he was able to slide all the way to the gate in one shove. 
I worked my hips as I argued with my cervix to open again for
another cock so soon after the last.  Bud couldn't wait for me to
dilate fully, he pushed his hard knob through with a big shove,
making me cry out like a virgin experiencing her first
penetration.

As soon as his cock was inside, he started to shake like a
volcano before the eruption. He grimaced and tensed, pulling back
so he could feel the ring of muscle sealing his cock in my womb.
Then he pounded forward into me with all his might, spewing his
cum into me to join that of his brother.  As his cock pulsed, his
balls drew up against my ass.  His cum spurted into me with such
great force that I could feel it easily, despite the big load
already there.

With Bud's contribution, my womb was filled past its normal
capacity and was inflated to a new size by both massive loads. 
There was a sharp pain at first, but it mellowed quickly into a
delicious feeling of fullness, of completeness.

When Bud's balls were finally drained, he pulled out and rolled
off to lie beside me.  I stretched out full-length like a cat,
raising my arms over my head, pointing my toes, and relaxing my
tummy muscles so my belly stuck out out.  Bud noticed the
distinct bulge in the center of my abdomen and put his hand over
it.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked.

"Unhunh," I purred in ecstasy.  "I'm full, fuller, fullest."  The
expression 'young, dumb, and full of cum' came to mind and I
giggled to think that, at the moment, it really applied to me.  I
was a little girl with a really big load of boy-juice in her and
I felt deliriously happy.

"Wow!  You almost look pregnant."

I held my breasts apart so I could look for myself.  He was
right.  When I pooched out my belly like that, I did look several
weeks pregnant.  For a moment, I fantasized about really being
pregnant, about having a baby inside me, growing and moving, a
part of my body yet a separate little person.  It made me want to
throw away those extra-strength birth control pills that Mom had
got for me from Dr. Bonner.  One day, I promised, I would do
that.  Some day.  In the meantime I could practice fucking,
nursing, protecting people, and walking around with a bloated
belly.  It seemed like a good start.

I kissed Bud and rolled out of bed with a big goofy grin on my
face and a spring in my step.  The weight of the huge load of cum
tugged at me with every step.  I decided that I wanted to
experience this sensation for as long as possible.

"When you have some more for me, you just let me know, OK?  Until
further notice, you are not to cum unless your cock is in my
pussy."

"Yes, ma'am!  Uh, does that mean at school, too?"

"Yes.  We'll find a place to go.  I know of a couple.  And you
can tell Jolene all about this.  Tell her that we're taking good
care of you, OK."

I skipped back to my room just as Neeka was climbing out of the
shower.

"I'd love to be able to do that trick," she said.  "Yesterday, I
leaked so much I went through two pads and a big wad of tissue. 
That's what gave me the idea.  I tried it, and I think it will
work."

I was so buzzed from my own escapades that I hadn't been
listening to what was going on in her head.  I peeked and saw
what she had done.

"You're kidding!  Let me see.  You found it in the toy drawer?"

She sat on the bed and spread her knees so I could see her
solution to the drippy-pussy problem.  Between her puffy labia,
almost flush with her opening, was a pink oval of plastic with a
hinged ring that folded down into an impression.  I saw that it
could be lifted and turned to operate the device, whose obvious
purpose was to plug your vaginal opening.

"What keeps it in place?" I asked, just to give her the pleasure
of explaining her discovery.

"When you put it in, it's shaped like a regular dildo.  It's
narrow going in and then you turn the ring.  That makes it bulge
out on the inside.  Pushing the ring down locks it in the
expanded position so you're sealed inside and out."

"That's neat!  Is it uncomfortable?"

"Not as much as I thought.  I can ignore it when I'm standing up,
but when I'm sitting down I can feel it more.  It's not
uncomfortable.  It must be designed to be worn all day.  I think
it was intended to be either a butt-plug or a type of chastity
belt.  There's a little lock that holds the ring down so you
can't take it out, but I'm going to leave that off."

"Yeah, you never know when someone might want to get in there in
a hurry."

"Yeah, that's why I thought I'd try this out today.  I expect a
lot of deposits to be made at this branch.  Did you forget you
have that appointment with Dr. Bonner this afternoon?"

"Oh crud!  Yes, I did forget.  I guess this sperm bank won't be
open for any more donations today.  I don't want to have an exam
with a load of cum in me when I go.  It might give the doctor the
entirely right idea about me."  I patted my tummy.  "Can you
handle it while I wait for this to go down, or wherever it
goes?"

"You mean, can I stand to spread my legs for two horny teenage
boys who we have promised to fuck whenever they can get it up? 
Gee, I'll do my best to endure the hardship.  I just hope the
constant traffic down to the old restrooms in the basement
doesn't wear a path in the carpet."  She tugged on her labia to
help get the plug seated more comfortably, then she tugged on her
clit just because she was a hot vixen.

"Or you could just ask to borrow the principal's office.  I'm
sure Mr. Haskins wouldn't mind, if you let him watch," she said,
reluctantly letting go of her clit and closing her legs.  It
reminded me that the clock was ticking and we needed to get
moving.

"That old lecher?  He'd want to tape it.  There's a rumor that he
put cameras in the girls' locker room."

"Then it's a good thing I do all my horizontal workouts in the
boys' side isn't it?"  I said, going into the bathroom for my
shower.

"It sure is!" She giggled and lay back on the bed to rub her clit
some more before she down to her room on the second floor to get
dressed.  "Oh, I'll let Jim and Bud know the situation while
you're in the shower.  I'll tell them that I'm the one who will
be 'on call' today."

When I was all clean and fresh, I put on one of my conservative
schoolgirl outfits.  This one had a pleated skirt and a white
blouse similar to Sue's.  The blouse had a high open collar and
was tapered to fit my narrow waist.  The skirt came down all the
way to mid-thigh, so I didn't see any need for underwear. 
Besides, even if I wasn't going to be having any more visitors
between my legs, I would still need unrestricted access to my
pussy so I could frig myself off when I needed to.  With that
thought in mind, I put in my largest pair of steel balls, sucked
them deeply inside me and started playing with them.  I thought
it was important to keep the muscles in tone, since someone would
be looking up there later on.  

Neeka's room, when she stayed over and wasn't sleeping with me,
was at the far end of the hall on the second floor.  When she
didn't come back by the time I was dressed, I tuned in to see
where she had gone, then I went down to Mom's room to join in the
fun.

Mom had no intention of letting Sue go back to school wearing
clothes that hadn't been cleaned and ironed.  There wasn't time
to do that, and Mrs. Reynolds' wardrobe would have been
sufficient to clothe a chorus line in high fashion.  When I
walked in, Sue was either half-in or half-out of a white
halter-top dress with peach-colored flowers on it.  When she
shrugged into it, I could see that the flounced hemline was just
at her fingertips.  It showed off her legs so well I had to
stare.

"This one is too short, too!" She complained.

"Oh, no it's not!" I said.  "That is just perfect.  You have to
wear that."

"See?" Neeka said.  "You're outvoted!  Three to one."

"You can change into your workout clothes when you get to
school," Mom told her.  "Now come downstairs and eat breakfast. 
I made a nice casserole."

"You made a casserole for breakfast?" Sue said, incredulously.  I
smiled to hear that.  I was glad I wasn't the only one Mom was
impressing with her culinary talents.  I was also glad she hadn't
been up cooking since three in the morning.  Mom had explained to
me how those casseroles came out of the fridge and went into the
oven to warm up.  I thought I could probably handle that part.

"Mom is the best cook in town," I declared with complete
conviction.  It was both completely true and a very well-deserved
compliment.

We all went down to the breakfast room, where Bud and Jim were
setting out the juice, coffee and toast.  Some of the toast
looked like it had been scraped, so I knew they had been
'helping' in the kitchen.  The two former spoiled brats were
shaping up very nicely, but they needed more practice.

Even though Mom had on a form-fitting mauve dress that laced up
the front and the sides, leaving no possibility that she had
anything on under it, both Jim and Bud admired Sue first.

"Oh, that's nice!" Jim said.

"I like that, too," Bud agreed.  "Needs heels, though."

Neeka handed Sue a pair of shoes with three-inch heels.  Sue
reluctantly changed into them and handed back the flats she had
on.  They did make a difference.  Her butt bunched up under the
skirt more and her calves really snapped out.

"Whoa!" was all Jim could say as Sue walked past him to take a
seat at the table.  Bud was struck dumb, but his eyes never left
Sue's legs until they were under the table.  Only then did either
boy remember the food and started to eat.

"See?" Neeka said to Sue.

"OK, I'll learn to wear heels," Sue said.  "I just never paid
that much attention to what people thought of my clothes.  I'm
not used to this."

"You'll grow to like it," I said.  "You will want to hide less
and show off more."

"I think I already like it," Sue said, smiling.  "It's just that
I have a lot to unlearn."



After breakfast, the boys left to walk to school.  Neeka and I
helped Sue load into Neeka's car an overnight case that Mom had
loaned her to carry her clothes home in.  I smiled when I saw the
bag.  The implication and the invitation were clear   Sue could
use it on a return visit.

We had just packed Sue into the cramped back seat when Mom asked
us to wait.

"I almost forgot," she said, running back into the house, "Wait a
sec."

She came right back carrying a small object that she handed to me
  a cell phone with a pink plastic case and red flowers all over
it.

"I added a few important numbers to the contact list," she said.
"And I gave your number to Bob Foster with the suggestion that
since you were now known to the city people, he might share it
with them, too."

"Thanks!  This is a cute phone," I said, giving her a hug.

"I'll pick you up after school!" she said, as I got into the
front seat.

I waved as Neeka zoomed down the drive and into the street.  Her
driving when she was behind the wheel of a car was much better
than when she was on the bike, and I was glad to be inside,
rather than hanging onto her waist for dear life.  That thought
earned me a finger, lifted briefly from her grip on the steering
wheel.  Still, I had become aware of just how flimsy cars really
were and it made me more conscious of the danger.



We pulled up to the end of the main classroom building that was
farthest from the gym to let Sue out.

"You could have pulled up a little closer, you know," she said as
she saw where we were.

"Oh, no!" I said.  "You go in that door and you parade yourself
all the way down that hall and out the other end.  No fast
walking either.  Just strut.  And smile at everyone."

"Got it.  OK, here goes.  See you later!"

Sue gave her darling dress an unnecessary tug to square it snugly
on her hips and walked into the building a little shakily.  Her
legs looked amazing in the morning light and the way her butt
moved under that dress made me want to chase her down and kiss
it.



I used the time in homeroom to go over some of the material that
I hadn't had a chance to read the previous evening.  I had been
reading so far ahead anyway that it was all stuff I already knew,
but I wanted it fresh in my mind before class.

First period went by without anything exploding or boiling over.
It was right after class, while I was standing by my locker,
working the combination lock when I felt a mental warning from
Neeka to hang onto something.  I grabbed the locker with both
hands just as her orgasm slammed into me, making me vibrate and
go momentarily weak at the knees.  I recovered after a few
minutes and went on to Miss Connor's Algebra class.

After Algebra, I was in the north stairwell on my way to Social
Studies when it happened again.  With little warning, Neeka's
climax slammed me against the railing, making me hang on with my
eyes shut and my knees banging together until it subsided enough
for me to climb up to the landing.  I wanted to say something,
but she had never intruded on my sexual adventures and I felt I
had to return the courtesy.  Still, I planned to ask her about it
at the next opportunity.

I spent the next fifty minutes alternating between teasing Mr.
Locke and being bored out of my mind by his droning recitation of
the events leading up to the storming of the Bastille.  When the
bell rang, I dashed to the gym, gnawing an energy bar on the
way.

I had just finished changing into my weightlifting outfit when it
happened again.  This time it seemed even more powerful than
before, and I had to lie down on the bench while the waves of
pleasure crashed over me.  When I was able to sit up, I felt both
drained and energized at the same time.  I was torn between being
jealous of Neeka and being glad that I was the one getting the
free ride.

My mind was on so many other things while I was working out in
the weight room that I slipped-up a couple of times and did
something I shouldn't have been able to do.  The first time, I
was doing curls with a pair of 40 lb. dumbbells.  I was feigning
effort as I had learned to do, when I suddenly had an itch
between my shoulder blades and I reached back without thinking
and casually scratched it without putting the dumbbell down
first.  I realized what I had done as soon as I did it and looked
around to see if anyone had noticed.  Steve and Doug were looking
in my direction and I smiled at them as I resumed my set.  I
couldn't be sure if they had seen my slip.  They weren't staring
or anything.  Just looking.  I was used to that.

The second time, Roger and Lamont saw me lift a barbell from the
hooks before Lamont was ready for it.  I was standing there
holding it over his chest, looking like nothing was happening for
a good second or so before he reached up for it.  After he took
it from me I thought to check the weight.  It was nearly 300
lbs.

I watched as Lamont did one very tough rep with it and then I
waited until he had it fully extended before helping him get it
back on the hooks.  When he had recovered, Lamont sat up and
looked at me, deciding what to say.  Finally, he decided to say
nothing at all, which was worse than most anything he could have
said.  I saw in his eyes that I was busted, that he knew I wasn't
being up front with them, and I felt ashamed that I had been
trying to fool them.  Still, I didn't feel comfortable telling
them any more than they already knew, so I kept my mouth shut and
went on with my workout, thinking all the while that maybe this
whole weight-room thing hadn't been the best idea I'd ever had.

While I curled those dumbbells, I could feel the weight of them.
I could lift them, but they didn't feel heavy.  When I tore the
roof off that minivan, I felt the resistance.  I felt the metal
bend and tear.  It was strange.  I didn't feel that strong.  It
was just that when I pushed or pulled really hard, things moved
or tore.  I was starting to realize that I had been in a kind of
state of denial about the minivan incident.  Everyone kept
saying, "You tore the car in half!  You ripped it in two!"  But I
just didn't feel like I was either strong enough or had exerted
myself enough to have done that.  When I did it so easily, it
really scared me.  I mean, I've had harder times opening bags of
chips - really.

I'd started out by pushing myself to see how much I could do, how
strong I would get.  Now, I felt scared that I would get too
strong and I wouldn't be able to control it.  I was beginning to
have a daydream about the climax of some cheesy monster movie,
where the giant booger stomps through the city smashing houses
and cars flat.  Only the monster in my daydream was me.  Whenever
I thought of it, I would laugh it off, but the image kept coming
back.

I realized that I was on the verge of over-analyzing and
obsessing about things again, so I put the dumbbells back on the
rack.  Instead, I went to a machine that the wrestling team guys
almost never used.  It was a power-lifting machine with a bar
attached to a cable that ran through some pulleys to a stack of
weights.  Like most of the machines, you could select the amount
of weight by poking a small bar through a hole in the weights to
hook up the amount you wanted.

I was in a sour mood, so I plugged the small bar into the bottom
hole in the weight stack, engaging all 1000 pounds of weight. 
Surely I wouldn't be able to lift this much, and everyone would
see me straining and realize what a joke it all was.

I tried hard not to work myself up for the effort.  I relaxed as
much as I could before I reached down for the bar with the steel
cable connected to the middle.  With my knees bent, my back
straight, my shoulders square, and my head up, I pulled hard
against the bar.

I felt the slack go out of the cable, and I felt the slight give
as I put tension on the machine.  I heard a couple of clicks as
weights shifted on the stack, but that was all.  I was pulling as
hard as I could, and the weights hadn't budged an inch.  After a
couple of seconds of straining, I eased off and let go of the
bar, rising to a standing position.

I was glad.  I was relieved.  I was even happy that I had failed
to lift the laughably huge amount of weight.  I wasn't the
super-strong monster of my imagination.  There was some other
explanation for the minivan after all.

Then Lamont spoke up behind me calling everyone's attention to my
effort, "See?  She's not all that strong, after all.  Hey, what
do you expect, she's just a girl!"

'Just a girl'.  Those words echoed in my head.  The calm I had
tried to keep evaporated in an instant as my face flushed red and
I became suddenly pissed.  'Just a girl.'  That was the very
attitude I had wanted to eradicate, and here he was, throwing it
in my face.  I was so mad I wanted to spit.  Then I did spit.  I
spit on both hands and I squatted down with a flood of adrenalin
rushing into my system and one thought on my mind   "I'll show
him!"

I gripped the bar so tightly I could hear the chalk on my palms
squeak.  It sounded a lot like overstressed metal and I took that
as a good sign.  I threw my head back, closed my eyes, and hauled
on that bar with every ounce of strength I had.

When I straightened my legs and came up to a standing position,
something felt wrong.  Even though I knew the machine was
designed to allow someone of average height to pull the bar
almost to mid-thigh in a straight-arm pull, the bar kept rising
until I had curled it up under my chin.  I thought the selector
bar had slipped out and the weight was off the cable.  It was
just too easy.

I opened my eyes to see the whole stack of half a ton of iron
weights halfway up the cinderblock wall, teetering at the top of
the rail.  Concrete dust puffed out around the bolts holding the
machine to the wall.  There was a sudden loud ping as one of the
strands of the steel cable parted.

"Sweet Jesus!" I heard Lamont say.  All of the mocking tone was
gone from his voice.

"Sam?" Steve said, in a voice full of concern.  "Honey, put it
down.  Put it down slow.  The cable's over-stretched.  It's going
to break and someone could get hurt."

The 'someone could get hurt' woke me out of my startled state.  I
lowered the bar smoothly to the floor, doing it as quickly as I
could without dropping the stack of weights.  Even so, when they
hit the bottom of the track, there was a loud thud and a few
creaks as the frame settled back against the wall.  I could see
where the bolts had been pulled a half-inch out of their holes
and there was a small crack running through three of the concrete
blocks that hadn't been there before.

I stared at that crack like it might open up and swallow me.  If
I had put any more pressure on the cable, either it would have
snapped like a rubber-band, or the whole machine would have been
ripped out of the wall.  Just like with the minivan, it hadn't
felt that hard to do.

"It's the adrenalin," I thought.  "I thought it must be, but now
I'm sure.  Without it, I'm strong, but things feel heavy   I can
feel the effort.  With it, there is just no normal feeling of
weight or resistance.  I can destroy things without breaking a
sweat.  I can lift a half-ton with no problem.  I can tear a car
apart with my bare hands like it was tissue paper.  That's it. 
To stay in control, I have to stay in control.  If I get mad, or
excited, or pumped up, the adrenalin will flow and the power will
come.  I only need to be tranced to be able to do the mental
stuff and turn my skin.  That's it.  That's the secret.  I know
how to control it now!"

I was so happy that I was grinning broadly as I turned to face
the guys.  In hindsight, that wasn't the best expression to show
them.  It made me look like I was showing-off.

Steve jumped to my side and asked, "Are you all right?"   

"Sure," I grinned.  "Never better."  I'd just blown my cover to
bits, but nothing was going to sour this moment for me. 
Fortunately, Steve was more realistic.

"Good!  OK, guys.  None of this leaves this room!  Are we crystal
clear on this?"

"Yeah, Steve," Roger said, sarcastically, "I'm going to go out
and tell the next person I see that Sam power-lifted 1000 pounds
and almost tore the building down.  How stupid do I look?"

"We'll talk about your unfortunate looks some other time.  But
that's another good reason to keep this in the team.  OK?"  Steve
looked around for an answer from everyone.  He had suddenly gone
all protective of me and it was so sweet of him to do that.  It
made me feel all warm inside.  Then something he had said
clicked.  He had called me 'honey'.  He had never called me by a
pet name before.  I leaned against him and he put his arm around
me.  It was weird.  I had just shown them that I was easily
stronger than all of them put together and here Steve was acting
like I was a fragile flower.

One by one, the rest of the guys acknowledged his order to keep
quiet about what they'd seen.  Roger nodded and waved his hand
like it was the only smart move.

Doug said, "No problem!"

Lamont was still stunned, but he managed a hesitant nod.  He had
been edging away from me since the weight went up and he was
about to fall over a bench if he wasn't careful.  I reached out
toward him to point it out and he flinched at my gesture and
plopped down on the bench hard.  Lamont looked like he was
running over all our past conversations in his head, counting up
the times he might have pissed me off.  He had been caught in
mid-taunt and he was trying to figure out how much apologizing he
needed to be doing.

"I guess that cat is out of the bag," I said, "Not that I'm not
relieved.  But I didn't want to put this burden on you guys."

Steve stroked my back affectionately.  I got the impression that
if we'd been alone, he would have been stroking more intimate
places.  I couldn't figure that part out.  He had just found out
that his girlfriend was many times stronger than he was and he
was acting like I was his sweetie-pie.  He even called me
'honey'.  Was he that turned on by muscle power?  I had been
trying for respect here.  Had I missed that badly?

"Don't worry about it, Sam," Steve assured me.  "We'll never tell
a soul.  But maybe now you'll quit trying to kid us."

"Hunh?"

"Oh, come on.  Do you really think we're that stupid that we
can't tell when someone is faking?  I mean, that's just
insulting.  You've been jerking us around since day one and it's
been getting harder and harder not to say anything."

Doug nodded and Roger grinned.  Lamont looked surprised for a
second, then got this shit-eating grin and tried to look like he
was in on the gag the whole time.  My estimate of Lamont's IQ
dropped a few points at that, but if the other guys were prepared
to ignore it, I would go along.

"My acting wasn't too good, hunh?"

"No, honey.  I'm afraid not."

Now that the secret was out, Steve could relax.  Apparently, he
had been holding back more than the fact that he knew I had been
putting them on.  I thought about asking him not to call me
'honey', since that was what Mom called me, but it was sounding
better to me every time he said it, so I let it go.  It sounded
like I owed him more than a few courtesy points anyway.

"Sorry."  It sounded lame as soon as the word was out of my
mouth.

"Yeah," Doug said, waving off my poor excuse for an apology. 
"So, the big question that's on all out minds is: how strong are
you, anyway?"

"To tell the truth   and it is the truth, I swear   I honestly
don't know.  I don't know how, why, when, or where it's going. 
But I can do things that sometimes scare the snot out of me."

As soon as I said, 'do things' I knew a demonstration was coming
up.  Well, I owed them.  I had insulted their intelligence  
everyone's but Lamont's anyway   and I owed them.  I looked
around and spotted a piece of metal bracing lying in a corner of
the room.

"What's that?" I said, pointing.

Roger picked it up.  It was flat, about two and a half feet long,
and had a hole in each end.

"It's a brace for the weight rack," he explained.  "Everybody
kept tripping over it, so we took it off.  The rack is bolted to
the wall, like the power-lift machine used to be, so it wasn't
doing anything but getting in the way."  He handed it to me.  It
was a good, sturdy bit of steel.

I took it by both ends and thought about how jumped-up I had been
when I tore the roof off the car.  The adrenalin had been flowing
strong then and I wanted to tap into the flow again.  As I
thought about it, it came easily, a familiar rush of power
through my body that I had been using all along without realizing
what I was doing.  When the feeling was right, I did my pretzel
trick and handed the bent metal back to Roger.

"Holy Moly!" he said.  I think he was more impressed by seeing me
bend the brace than almost pulling the machine out of the wall. 
He turned the warm steel over in his hands and passed it along to
Doug, who spent a few futile seconds trying to straighten it out
again.

"Now that is truly impressive," Doug said.  "And I was thinking
about asking you to arm-wrestle.  That would have been
embarrassing."

"But I might have let you win!" I said, jokingly.

Doug became instantly serious.  "Not funny.  If you're stronger
than me, it's OK.  Some are, some aren't.  I compete to see who's
the better wrestler.  The idea of someone letting me win is an
insult to me and to the idea of sport in general.  You're
supposed to do your best, and the best athlete will win.  If you
don't play it that way, then we're all just sitting in here
jerking off.  Pardon my French."

"You're right," I said, chastened.  There was a lot of idealism
here and I had been undermining it.  "I'll remember that.  Nobody
likes to be told that their hard work is pointless.  I'm sorry I
said that."  I paused before I tried to change the subject.  
"Nothing wrong with a little self-abuse, though.  I've been known
to engage in it on occasion, myself."

My little joke provoked a few chuckles and broke the serious
mood.  As a way of showing there were no hard feelings, Doug
picked up on my comment.

"Aw, don't give us that!  Girls don't jerk off."

"Silly boy.  Girls jerk off more than boys.  We just don't brag
about it as much."

"Bull!"

"Oh, yes!  You go into any girl's bedroom.  Everything you see
that is small enough and round enough and smooth enough that
isn't nailed down has managed to find its way between her legs at
one time or another.  Hairbrush handles are a favorite.  So are
candles, bottles, pillows, and plush toys.  Electric toothbrushes
are good substitutes for vibrators because no one would be
shocked if you leave one lying around.  I used to use the
hand-held shower-massage to bring myself off over and over.  I
had to quit because I kept using up all the hot water."

"Wow!  That's almost too much information," Roger said.  "Are you
sure you should be telling us this stuff?"

"If it improves your chances of giving some girl a really great
orgasm, then I consider it to be a public service.  Besides, you
already know a much bigger secret than that."

"Yeah, getting back to that," Doug said.  "How come you said you
don't know how strong you are?  Haven't you ever tried to see how
much you can lift or something?"

"It's because I'm getting stronger all the time.  I'm still
learning how to deal with it and how to control it.  That's part
of why I come here.  Fooling with the weights helps me get a feel
for what I can do, even if I'm not pushing myself to the limit. 
Actually, I'm scared of what the limit might be."

"I'd think you would want to know," Steve said, getting into the
conversation.

"Well, yes.  I guess I do."

"So let's find out.  We better use free weights instead of the
machines.  We don't want to break anything.  Come on, guys.  Help
me load up the long bar."

They put the bar on the rack of the stoutest bench and manhandled
six of the largest plates onto it.

"That's 300 pounds," Steve said.  "We know you can lift that, but
let's work up gradually, so we'll know when we start to get close
to your max."

I crawled into position and put my hands on the bar.  Steve and
Doug moved into position to spot for me.

"Uh, guys?  I don't think I need a spot for this.  I feel better
if you weren't standing too close, OK?"

They shuffled away and watched from the foot of the bench.  Doug
smiled as he peeked up my short-cropped top.  I smiled back and
then picked the bar off the rack and did one press with it and
put it back.  It was fairly easy and I hadn't even had to tap my
adrenalin.

I sat up and they added another pair of 50-pound plates.  This
time it wasn't as easy.  I had to strain a bit to press 400.

The room got dead quiet while the next pair of plates were added.
 With the bar at 500, I could pick it up, but I had to reach for
the juice to press it.  It felt weird, feeling the steel bar flex
under all that weight when I picked it up off the hooks.

With 6 plates on each end, the bar flexed under the weight before
I picked it up.  I used the power and it instantly became
effortless to press.  The only problem I had was reconciling the
mass and inertia of the bar with its apparent lack of weight.  It
felt like I should be able to make it move quicker than it did;
that it was moving in slow-motion.

When we got up to 1000 pounds, there was a bit of creaking of
metal as I shifted the weight off the rack and it transferred
through my arms down to the bench supports.  I was beginning to
feel the weight, even using the adrenalin.

The guys started loading on smaller weights and I asked about
that.

"It's because all the big plates we have are already on the bar,"
Steve told me.  "We're going to load up everything that will fit.
 I think we can get another 500 on.  You up for 1500?"

"Sure."

"You don't seem to be having any trouble so far.  Are you still
OK with this?"

"I'm fine.  Let's do it."

With 1500 pounds on the bar, it flexed absurdly.  The smallest
weights on the ends would have slipped off, but for the locks on
the ends of the bar.  This was everything that could be loaded,
all three-quarter's of a ton of it.

I assumed the position and reached up.  I decided that the
prudent thing would be not to take any chances and risk getting
hurt.  I closed my eyes and let my body drift into the
trance-state.  When the faint sounds of the room faded, I started
breathing quickly to put oxygen and adrenalin into my blood.  It
was a strange sensation, feeling jazzed from the adrenalin and
drifty and floaty at the same time.

I picked up the massive bar and positioned it directly over my
chest.  I lowered it smoothly and raised it just the same way. 
It was still easy.

"This isn't helping," I thought.  "I'm holding almost all the
weight in the room and I'm nowhere near my limit.  This isn't
even much of a strain.  It's just slow to move."

Locking my feet under the bench for leverage, I let the bar drift
forward and sat up under it.  Then I stood with it over my head
and did a press in that position.  I thought about doing a curl,
but that would have meant releasing the bar while I rotated my
hands, and that was too much of a risk with the guys so near.

I sat back down and rolled backward, letting the bar back down
onto the hooks.  I detranced and took my hands away.  There was
an audible release of breath from everyone in the room to have
that much weight at rest again.

"Ah, well...that was amazing," Roger said.  "You are beyond just
being strong.  No one should be physically able to lift that
much, never mind pressing it, then sitting up and standing with
it!"  

He and Doug and Lamont pulled the weights off the bar and hung
them back on the racks.  When the three of them had left for the
showers, Steve sat down next to me on the bench.

"Did you have any trouble at all with it?" Steve asked.  "Did you
learn anything?"

"No.  And yes.  I learned that I'm going to have to crack my
Physics book more.  If I'm going to be tossing the odd ton
around, I need to know about inertia and mass and stuff.  That
hadn't seemed all that relevant before, you know."

As the fire faded from my blood, I felt a slight stiffness.  The
muscles in my arms and shoulders were tensed and bulging.  It
felt like I still held the weight.  I laughed as I recognized
what it was.

"Something funny?"  Steve asked.

"I'm pumped," I told him.  "I think I've found the weight I need
to be using during a workout."

"No shit!  Well, we'll just have to find something heavier for
you to lift.  We'll just have to be more creative."

"You don't have to do this," I told him.  "I kept this from you
because I didn't want to drag you into it.  This isn't your
problem."

"Yes, it is.  Anything that affects you is my problem."

"I'm very glad to hear you say that.  It makes me feel lots
better.  But you didn't seem as surprised as everyone else when I
almost broke the power-lift machine.  Why?"

"Well, because I suspected something already.  You're quite a
handful when you, um, get excited, you know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah.  Damn, Sam.  Even girls who are attracted to me are
usually scared I will hurt them if we get, um, you know.  It's a
serious turn-off to have someone beg you not to hurt them."

"You don't have to worry about that with me."

"No, I certainly don't.  For the first time, I'm with someone I
don't have to worry about hurting.  I can relax.  It's
fantastic."

"The shoe is on the other foot, now."

"Yeah.  Now I'm the one who has to beg for mercy.  Damn, what a
turn-on!"

"It makes you hot to be with someone so much stronger than you?"

"Damn right!  You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. 
I'm going to have to work hard just to keep up.  I feel so
relieved that this is out in the open now."

"How long have you suspected?"

"Since Jim told me not to be surprised if I noticed that you were
different from other girls."

"Oh?  And what else did Brother Jim say?"

"I thought he was going to lay that, 'you treat my sister right'
rap on me.  He laughed when I told him I had no intention of
hurting you.  I asked him what the hell that was about and he
told me I'd find out in time.  He wouldn't explain what he meant
and I've been trying to figure it out ever since.  Today I
understand.  You're special."

"I'm a superheroine."  There, it was out in the open at last.

He looked at me as if he thought I might be kidding him.

"No, really.  I go out and do battle with the forces of evil for
the good of all mankind."  Such was the superheroine creed as I
understood it.  I may have picked it up off the back of a comic
book.  I don't remember.

"Now I know you're shitting me."

"No shit.  Of course, the forces of evil mostly turn out to be
purse snatching punks and amateur stick-up men, and guys who
think gang-rape is a neat party game."  I deliberately didn't
mention my encounter with The Torturer.  I didn't want to have to
explain what all went on that afternoon, especially since I
wasn't completely sure how I felt about it myself.

"Um, OK.  Whatever."  Steve didn't buy it, but he wasn't going to
call me a liar to my face.  I thought maybe that was just as
well.  I had told him the truth.  If he didn't believe me; that
was OK.  What he didn't believe probably wouldn't hurt him.  If
he found out later that I was telling the truth, he couldn't say
anything about it.

We took our showers and dressed without returning to the subject.
 I think Steve was trying to assimilate what he had learned and
been told and deciding how he was going to deal with it.  I knew
just how he felt, since I was still having many of the same
problems with what I had become, so I let him work on it by
himself.

The unusual session in the weight room had run shorter than
usual, so the lunch period was still in progress by the time I
got back to the main building.  Rather than go straight to my
locker to restock my bag with my English and Math books, I stuck
my head in the lunchroom to say hi to some of my friends, but a
food-fight had broken out and the entrance was packed by all the
non-combatants making a hasty exit.

English class was the usual challenge.  Not to succeed, but to
stay awake.  The real mental challenge to diagramming the parts
of a sentence was to avoid the distraction of wondering when the
heck I would ever put this particular skill to use in later life.
 It all seemed terribly artificial and contrived.

When it was time for Gym, I was again distracted by Neeka
broadcasting still another climax right into my head, making me
pause on the shallow steps in front of the building and lean
against the balustrade until my legs quit shaking.  This was a
good one, and I almost lost my steel balls when my pussy
convulsed in sympathy.

My curiosity about her suddenly hyperactive sex life was making
me crazy.  Nevermind that it seemed to be satisfying me as well
and that I hadn't had to dash into a restroom stall all day. I
wanted to know what the heck was going on.  Neeka had almost
never had sex at school before, and now she seemed to be
insatiable.

"You'll know soon enough," I told myself.  "Patience."  And I
walked on to Gym class, taking small steps and breathing deeply
to get my head clear.

I didn't see Coach Sue until we had dressed-out and walked down
to the field.  I knew to expect something, but the change came as
a surprise to the rest of the class.  The chatter began as soon
as we turned through the gate in the vine-covered fence and saw
Coach standing in her usual spot next to the bleachers and it did
not quiet until she blew her whistle the second time.

The change was impressive.  Instead of the usual baggy sweatsuit
and cap that hid everything but her face, she had on a pair of
nylon running shorts and, miraculously, a cropped t-shirt.  The
shirt was modest by almost any standard.  It revealed nothing but
the lower hem of the sports-bra she had on under it, but it left
her ripped abs and concave stomach bare.  The shorts showed off
her well-turned legs quite well.  I would have picked something
briefer, or with a side-slit, but that was just quibbling.  Sue
looked like a completely different person; and from the comments
I was hearing, a much improved one.

"Would you look at that!" Heather said, her squeak audible above
the general noise.  "She's a girl!"

"And what a bod!"  Angie added.  "I had no idea she looked that
good."

Polly said, "Every time I've seen her, she's had sweats on, or
that horrible brown dress of hers."

"You think we could look that good if we keep doing these dumb
exercises?" Angie asked no one in particular.

There was no answer, but everyone had been reminded that there
was a point to all this running and jumping.  That building your
body meant something other than the bulging muscles that so many
girls claimed would ruin their appearance.  Apparently the lesson
was well-taken, because everyone was much more into the
calisthenics than usual.  Even the girls who usually slacked off
whenever Coach wasn't looking did all the repetitions of each
exercise.

I took the opportunity to see how much effort I could spend
without drawing on an adrenalin boost.  Clearly now, the way for
me to keep my power controlled was to remain as calm and 'zen' as
possible.  Without the boost of adrenalin or the total body
control or trance, I was still very strong, but there seemed more
of a connection between the amount of energy needed to do
something and the apparent effort it took.  It seemed to me to be
like the difference between using a tool with some mechanical
advantage, like a wrench with a long handle, and using a power
tool.  In the first case, I could feel the resistance as I
applied force; while in the second, the effort and the force
seemed disconnected.

The minivan rescue and the episode in the weight room showed me
that I could draw on an immense amount of power when I needed it.
 Power that was going to be a couple of orders of magnitude of
overkill for all but the rarest of situations.  More than ever, I
needed to be able to control it.  At least now I had a solid
working hypothesis and a sound plan: stay calm.  As long as I
kept my glands in check, I could gage how hard I was pulling,
pushing, or hitting.  If I got excited, or pissed-off, the gloves
were off and anything could happen.

Some of the more mystical or spiritual aspects of the Kung Fu
lessons seemed much more relevant to me.  I wondered if perhaps
some of the more spectacular things I had heard of martial
artists doing were possible because they had somehow tapped into
the same power that I had.  It felt good to think that, because
it meant I wasn't unique.  In other words: I wasn't alone; I was
just a gifted amateur who had discovered how to tap a power that
had been around for centuries.  It made me feel warm and fuzzy to
think that I was a member of a special group who had this gift.

In the comics, superheroes who normally worked alone always
seemed to be teaming up or even forming societies, or leagues, or
clubs.  I knew I shouldn't be trying to use fiction as a
guideline, but I understood how even the most solitary of them
would want to get together occasionally to be with other people
who had similar abilities   abilities that set them apart from
the average girl on the street.

While we went through forty minutes of routine calisthenics, I
thought about all this, and about the things I had been able to
do because I had these abilities.  By the time Coach blew the
whistle and we headed back to the locker room, I had my head back
in good order and I felt better about who I was and what I was
doing than I had in days.  I didn't even feel frustrated at
having to fake my workout.  Instead, I felt calm and at peace
with myself.

As I skipped along while everyone else trudged back to hit the
showers, I started making plans for after school.  I had worked
out everything I wanted to do whole rest of the day when I
remembered none of it was going to happen because Mom would be
picking me up after school for the visit to the Doctor that I had
let her talk me into.

My elated mood dropped back to zero and my feet became like lead.
 I was fine.  I didn't need a doctor.  Doctors meant nothing but
humiliation ad embarrassment to me.  Intellectually, I knew that
this was just the legacy of having been brought up by Yvette  
the mother from Hell   but I still felt a pain growing in the pit
of my stomach at the thought of the pending examination.

"What if he finds something wrong with me?" I wondered.  "What if
he wants to put me in an institution so I could be 'studied'?" 
The risk seemed unjustifiable to me.

"What if you quit being so scared of going to the doctor?" a more
rational voice in my head asked.  For a second, I thought it was
Neeka, but then I realized that it was just my conscience nagging
me.  This was the doctor who had provided my Pills on trust and
Mom's promise that I would be in to see him soon.  He certainly
didn't sound like the type who would turn me over to the
government to be an experimental animal.

I still couldn't manage to get back my good mood, but I
suppressed the urge to run away and hide until after my
appointment time had passed and tell everyone that I had been
kidnapped by lesbian dwarves from Venus who probed me with their
strange superscientific devices.  The Venusian Lesbian Dwarf
fantasy kept my mind off the visit to Dr. Bonner at the cost of
making me wet thinking about all the things that the VLDs might
want to do to me.

I was picturing different ways of being probed by the cute little
Venusians when Sue caught up to me and put her arm around my
shoulders.  I startled me, both because I hadn't seen her coming,
and because she never touched any of us casually.

"Hi, Sam!  You look distracted this afternoon.  Everything OK?" 
She said, cheerfully.  She seemed as relaxed as I had ever seen
her.

"I guess.  I've got a doctor's appointment after school and I'm
not looking forward to it."

"Just a check-up or are you having something done?  You looked OK
during class, but now you seem a little down."

"Just a check-up.  I was having such a good time in class that I
forgot about having to go.  Now that I've remembered it, it seems
like my whole day is ruined."

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be that bad.  Have you been to this doctor
before?"

"No, this is a guy that Mom goes to.  A gynecologist.  This will
be my first time going to him."

Sue nodded and smiled.  She misunderstood my apprehension, and I
wondered if I should set her straight.

"And you're afraid he will find out you are sexually active?"

"No, I think Mom already told him all about that."  I thought
that Mom had probably passed on even more information about my
sex life than she had mentioned to me.  Mom was just being
motherly, in her own way.  "It's just that the doctors I've been
to in the past have been really unpleasant.  I'm just gun-shy."

"Well, I'm sure this one will be different.  But good doctors are
hard to find.  Sometimes you have to overlook the poor bedside
manner if they seem to know what they are doing," she told me.

I wanted to ask about her own experiences with doctors, and
gynecologists specifically, but we were already back to the
locker room and I had to take my second shower of the afternoon.

When I got in the shower, I found that my jewelry was just as
popular as before.  Everyone seemed to want to have another look
and I tried to be nice and let them look and admire as much as
they wanted.  Some girls wanted to go beyond looking, and had to
handle the bells, the chain, the rings, and me.  The 'me' part
wasn't that surprising, but that they would be bold enough to do
it in a crowded locker room   was.  It was all under the pretext
of seeing for themselves how deeply the rings went, and how they
could be flipped up and down, and no, they didn't hurt when they
did that, and so on.  Still, once Polly ran her finger across my
nipple to see what happened to the rings when my areola crinkled
up, it seemed to signal the start of Fondling Season and I found
myself being touched, stroked, and pawed by one girl after
another.  

Some of them came around more than once, getting bolder each
time.  I escaped for a moment by excusing myself and running for
the shower, but that just changed the venue, not the attraction.
I was about to become exasperated with it and shoo them all away,
but all the attention was improving my mood and the stimulation
certainly wasn't doing me any harm at all.  After I had toweled
off and dressed up to my waist, I found my breasts once again
open for business as Polly found a few girls who hadn't had a
close enough look yet and she insisted on giving them a guided
tour.  

This time the touching became more overt and the stroking gave
way to gentle squeezing.  Once another boundary had been crossed
with no complaint from me, it turned into a game of top-this led
by Polly.  While I stood with my hands behind me, she practically
ravished my breasts.  Her hands, and several others, roamed
freely.  It quickly became clear that my jewelry wasn't the main
attraction, that it was just an excuse for everyone to satisfy
their curiosity and their repressed and not so repressed urges to
get their hands on my boobs in a situation where no one would
suspect them of being lesbian.  I'm not sure if being a lesbian
was such a bad thing, except that Yvette got pretty screwed up
because of it and consequently dumped a lot of stuff on me that I
could have done without, but if the boys thought you were, they
might avoid you, and no even marginally heterosexual girl could
have stood the thought of that.  I had always figured that that
was the main reason why there were so few girls in the school
Gay/Lesbian Alliance club.  Even those who might have benefited
from it stayed away because they were afraid of burning bridges.

I became conscious of the fact that my line of reasoning was
being biased by the fact that the groping I was getting was
making me very hot.  Nothing could mess up your internal
intellectual monologue quicker than having your hormone level
shoot through the roof.  I abandoned my train of thought and just
focused on enjoying the stimulation.

The hands exploring my chest got more aggressive and I became
more receptive.  Polly seemed to have given up even a pretense of
admiring my jewelry and seemed to be trying to make me as hot as
she could.  She had commandeered one breast all to herself and
had made that nipple swell up to impressive size.  She had
flipped the ring out of the way and was stroking and tugging on
it like she was milking a cow.

That, of course, was the wrong thing to be thinking about.  In my
present horny state, I could probably be seduced into lactating
pretty easily.  Thinking about being milked would push me into it
with no trouble at all.  Once it occurred to me that it was a
possibility; that made it a probability.  That made it likely,
and that made it a sure thing.

I felt the beginnings of the warm sensation start up deep in my
breasts.  In a minute, I would begin to feel the warmth spread
through them.  Then the fullness would set in, then the
heaviness, then would come the dripping, the squirting, and the
gushing as I gave forth a flood of - Dammit!  Stop that right
now!

I caught myself just in time.  Things had just got to the
fullness stage and I was able to shut it off before it got out of
hand, or rather, out of me.  I wasn't sure how my classmates
would react and I didn't want to get a reputation as Sam the Cow.
 I smiled at that, but it was true that there were more than
enough things that made me stand out and I did not need to add to
the list.

I needed to put a stop to the groping in a polite way before I
started leaking from one place or the other.  Fortunately, Polly
provided an unintentional excuse.  She pulled on my nipple very
roughly, stretching it out to the very limit before squeezing it
in her fist.  The intense feeling made me almost lose control. 
My jaw dropped and I let out a short squeak and took a deep,
shuddering breath.  I was about to tell her to do that again when
she took her hands away, leaving me on the brink of an orgasm.

"Sorry, Sam," Polly said, and not all that sincerely.  "I didn't
mean to hurt you."

My cry seemed to have broken the mood and everyone backed off as
if to deny responsibility for hurting me.  I cupped my tender
nipples with my hands and pressed in protectively.  The large and
swollen mounds of my areolas filled my palms and feet like two
overbaked cupcakes sprouting from the ends of my breasts.

"No, really.  It's all right," I told her, and everyone else
standing close to me who looked concerned.  "You just got a
little rough.  That's all.  I was really enjoying that."  I
batted my eyelashes coyly at those who were still nearby,
reluctant to go about their business while I was still on
display.  I picked up my blouse and put it on with some minor
fumbling at the buttons.  "Did you?" I asked Polly in a hushed
tone.

"Did I?  Oh!"  She seemed flustered, as if I hadn't known she had
the hots for me.  As if she thought she could still deny the look
in her eyes as she had pawed me so eagerly.  "Yes, I suppose I
did," she said at last, turning partially away and bending over
to go through the motions of tying her already-tied shoelaces.

"Maybe you'd like to try it again sometime?" I suggested in a
whisper in her ear.  "Maybe without everyone else around?  Maybe
I can even return the favor?"

She turned a bright scarlet color from her forehead to her
throat.  She tried to look me in the eye, but her gaze slid past
mine as she said, "I...I'm not...that way.  Really!"

"What way?  Lesbian?  Me neither.  I like boys, too.  Heck, I
like boys an awful lot.  But that doesn't mean I can't play with
girls, too.  It's just playing, see?  It doesn't mean we're going
steady or anything."

She seemed relieved at that, then she looked mildly disappointed,
then confused.  She was obviously having the same difficult time
figuring out what she was and what she wanted as everyone else
our age.  I smiled reassuringly at her and put my hand on her arm
as we picked up our bookbags and backpacks and headed to our next
class.

"Don't worry about it.  Nobody is going to hold you to anything
yet.  You can try stuff and see if you like it and not feel like
you have to make up your mind about anything before you're ready.
 Just relax and enjoy life.  Hey, you only go around once...."

"And if you work it right, once is enough," she finished,
giggling.  "Yeah, you're right.  I don't know what I want.  I
just...you're so gorgeous!  I just can't keep my hands off you. 
Is that wrong?" She finished on a serious note.

"No.  It's very flattering, for one thing.  For another...you
almost made me cum."

"What?  Just from...?"

"Unhunh.  Just from you touching me.  If you hadn't stopped when
you did, you would have seen me cum right there in front of you
and everyone else.  I'm very easy to get going, see?  Especially
when you treat me rough, like you did.  That really turns me
on."

 "Really?  You know, I was enjoying it quite a bit, too," she
said, shyly.

"Oh?"  I knew she was enjoying herself from the way she tried to
monopolize me, but it sounded like there was something else she
wanted to tell me.

"Yeah.  I know I was getting carried away there, and I'm sorry
about that.  But the rougher I got the more I got off in it.  I
didn't want to hurt you...not exactly."

"'Not exactly'?  What does that mean?"

"I guess it means I resent you for being so gorgeous and for
having such great tits.  You remember last week, when Heather
accused you of hogging all the hunks?  That was exactly how I
felt.  I think I wanted to hurt you because you're so much
prettier than me."

That was an interesting admission.  But I felt that there was
still more to it.  I stopped and sidled the two of us into an
alcove between two rows of lockers.

"Leaving aside the idea that I am so much prettier than you,
which did you enjoy more, touching me or hurting me?" I asked.

Polly refused to look at me.  She hung her head and said, "I
enjoyed both.  But I got more excited when I thought I was
hurting you.  When you cried out, I got very excited.  I'm so
ashamed of myself.  I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

"Hunh?"

"I said, I'm not sorry.  Like I said, you almost made me cum. 
Not from the gentle touching, but from the rough handling.  You
see, I have a very high pain threshold and I can take a lot of
abuse.  Stuff that makes other people scream in agony just makes
me hot.  Sometimes it's hard for me to decide where the line is
between pleasure and pain."  I thought back to my afternoon in
the dungeon.  "Sometimes there isn't a line at all and anything
feels good."

"Anything?"

"Pretty much.  So don't worry about hurting me, because chances
are, you can't.  I mean, aside from stuff that you know will
cause permanent damage; I'm up for whatever you want to do to
me."  

I knew I was opening a door here that I might regret later, but
this seemed like too good a chance to pass up.  Thinking about
what Polly might want to do to me made me even more excited than
I had been before.  She had just discovered her sadistic streak
and she had no experience at inflicting pain.  It sounded like it
would be a lot of fun to see how inventive she could be.  Judging
from her expression as she thought about it, she had some ideas
already.

"So, it's like a game?" she asked.

"Yeah.  A game between the two of us.  See if you can think of
interesting things to do to hurt me.  If I think it's too...no,
let's not start with rules yet.  I'm just going to trust you not
to hurt me too bad, OK?"

"OK.  Gee, this is going to be a lot of fun.  Do you want me to
tell you about it ahead of time, or do you want me to surprise
you?"

"Surprise me.  Unless letting me think about it for a while ahead
of time will make it better."

"All right.  You're on." She said, looking down at my boobs under
my blouse.

The last bell was about to ring for the start of class and the
hall was almost empty, so we had a few seconds of privacy.  Polly
reached out and undid a couple of buttons and slid her hand
inside my blouse.  I was dripping with anticipation and the
delicious fear of shat she planned to do.  When her hand closed
on my breast, I was already panting.

She slipped a finger through the ring in my left nipple, rubbing
it across my stiffening nub as she did so.  To show her she could
do whatever she wanted, I assumed the brace position I had
learned from Mom   hands behind my back, shoulders pulled back,
and tits up for inspection.

Seeing me take a submissive posture made Polly smile and she
grabbed my nipple tightly.  I shivered slightly and she pulled on
it.  The feeling was wonderful.  Her fingers were twisted tightly
around my already red and puffy nipple and she had pulled by
breast out of my open blouse.  She tightened her grip on me and
pulled up toward her chin, forcing me onto my toes, just like Mom
used to do.

When she had me as completely extended as she could without
pulling me off-balance, she turned her wrist over and twisted my
nipple around 180 degrees.  The feeling was almost like my nipple
was about to be ripped off.  It was excruciatingly great and I
was so distracted that I almost let the metal balls drop out of
my rapidly flooding pussy.  I had just clenched my opening shut
and pulled them back in when the bell rang signaling the start of
class and Polly let go.

I rocked back on my heels, feeling excited and frustrated that we
didn't have more time.  We both snatched up our bags and stuff
and raced for class so as not to be too badly late.  It was
better to be seen racing in seconds late than to saunter in
minutes after the bell had rung.  The former could be excused as
an unavoidable delay, but the latter was almost always put down
to poor planning and could result in being marked tardy if the
teacher was in a pissy mood.

I was so distracted by the rush Polly had given me that I didn't
notice that my blouse was still unbuttoned and hanging open until
I slid into my desk.  

So I could see the desktop, I had learned to sit with my
shoulders twisted to the left at an angle so my breasts wouldn't
be in the way of my books.  As I sat down, I looked down and saw
that one breast was almost completely exposed.

I quickly pulled my blouse shut and held it there while I tried
to hang onto the books in my right hand while holding my blouse
shut and buttoning it up with my left.  Miss Albert was busy
writing some formulas on the board and hadn't seen my lateness or
the state my clothes were in, but the boy in the desk to my left
had obviously had a real good look when I sat down.

His name was Ron Majors and he was grinning like the Cheshire cat
in Alice in Wonderland at his wonderful luck.

I smiled back at Ron and improved his good fortune by handing him
my books to hold while I got myself together.  This resulted in
my blouse falling completely open, as I was sure it would,
according to Murphy's law.  Ron got a clear view of my breast,
with its rosy and hugely swollen nipple and areola, until he
politely took the books out of my hands and freed me to close and
fasten my clothing.  He observed that process closely, as though
seeing buttons being operated were the most fascinating thing
he'd ever witnessed.

When I had tucked my shirt-tails into my skirt and was once again
decent, he handed my books back to me.  As I took them, I
whispered, "Thanks" in a voice so low as not to be audible to
anyone else in the room.

He nodded and whispered back, "My pleasure" which, from the fixed
grin on his face, I'm sure it was.

I wanted to be mad at him for staring at me, but I couldn't
manage it.  It was my fault for having my boob hanging out in
plain sight, not his.  Besides, I would be more unhappy if boys
didn't stare at me and try to catch peeks of those areas of skin
that happened to be covered by whatever I had on at the time.  It
would be terribly hypocritical of me to wear the sexiest clothes
I could get away with and then get mad when someone ogled me.  I
knew girls who did just that and it annoyed and puzzled me.  I
mean, if you don't want to be looked at, wear a sack.  Don't
prance around with your clothes three-quarters off and then slap
someone who whistles at you.  It makes you look stupid and
petty.

That doesn't mean I didn't have or at least understand the
impulse.  It's a game, but a cruel one.  I flaunt - you look.  I
tease - you approach.  But once you're in range   pow!  Gotcha!

The problem is, you're running the risk of playing with people
who don't know it's a game.  You end up creating people like my
buddy the Torturer.  I should never have listened to him.  I
should never have tried to figure him out.  Now I understood too
much to be oblivious to the risks of playing games with people's
heads.  I had seen first-hand how that can mess people up and
ultimately turn them into monsters.

Since I had to sit turned in Ron's direction anyway, I decided to
play a different game.  I tucked my shirt-tail into the back of
my skirt as tightly as I could to pull my blouse taut across my
chest.  I pulled my elbows in tight so I could lean into the
fabric and make it as tight as a snare-drum.  With two buttons
almost at the point of popping through the holes, I sniffed to
get his attention.

When he turned his head, I grinned at him.  He smiled back and
then noticed what I was showing him.  His eyes bugged out and his
jaw dropped as I slowly traced the outline of my puffed-up nipple
with the eraser end of a pencil   just in case he had forgotten
where it was.

He stared like he had x-ray vision, then he thought he'd better
not be too obvious about it.  He acted like he was copying the
stuff off the board, but he kept watching me out of the corner of
his eye to see what I would do next.  Being cool seemed a good
idea, so I played it the same way, writing in my notebook while
continuing to stress the front of my blouse.

I worked the buttons until one of them slipped through the hole,
leaving a gap through which Ron could see the deepest part of my
cleavage.  The view seemed to appeal to him.  I saw him shift his
butt in his seat, like his underwear had started to get too tight
for him; then he tugged at his shorts to try to get some more
room in the crotch.

I watched for anything happening in Ron's pants and was pleased
to see a distinct bulge beginning to form along the inside seam.
It looked like Ron might have a fairly respectable cock between
his legs.  I wondered how much bigger it would get.  I decided
that I had the rest of the period to find out.

I couldn't do anything else until Miss Albert finished explaining
the problem on the board three times in a row and had turned to
erase it and replace it with the next one.  Once her back was
turned, I went back to work on the next button and Ron went back
to watching me try and undo it without using my hands.

The effort was getting me worked up and I was helped by the
swelling of both nipples and all the neighboring tissue.  With
the additional pressure, I had the second button undone in a
matter of minutes.  Now there was an eight-inch gap open in my
blouse that showed most of the insides of my breasts.  I pushed
in with my elbows to make them bulge into the opening and managed
to force one so close to the gap that the nipple and its ring
were peeking out.  If I tried to move any further the bell might
fall out and ring.  That would give the game away, so I had to
leave things as they were.

Ron gave me a nice smile when my breast almost popped completely
free.  It was a good thing that his desk was next to the wall, so
there wasn't anyone behind him who would have the same view.  As
long as I didn't turn straight on in my desk, he could have his
own private peepshow and no one behind me would know what we were
up to.

I wanted to do more, but the bell would have given me away, so I
had gone as far as I could in flashing my tits.  Instead, I
thought I would try to flash my pussy.  I gradually edged my
knees around from under the desk so I would be sitting as well as
facing at an angle.  Considering some of the poor posture many of
my peers displayed in class, me sitting straight up but at an
angle wouldn't be out of the ordinary.

When my knees were pointing at Ron, I slid my butt back as far as
I could in the seat and pressed my spine against the support
bracket for the wooden desktop.  Then, a little bit at a time, I
walked my ass-cheeks forward, leaving my skirt bunched up behind
and making the modest-length hem ride up my thighs.

It took a few minutes for him to see what I was doing, but when
he did, he jerked his head around so quick that I was sure the
teacher would notice.  I kept my eyes directly forward until he
had himself under control and I was sure Miss Albert's attention
was elsewhere, then I slid back again, pushing more of my skirt
out from under me and turning a conservative skirt into a
micro-mini.

At last my bare cheeks were resting on the wooden seat, and the
front hem of my skirt was just above my slit.  It felt
deliciously bad to be sitting in class with my skirt bunched up
and my ass and pussy bare.  I was so excited that I was having a
hard time keeping my breathing under control.  I kept wanting to
pant like a dog in the summer sun.

When I was sure Miss Albert had her back to us and Ron's
attention was on me, I spread my knees apart as far as I dared to
give him a good look at my pussy.  The cool air rising across my
damp labia felt wonderful.  I could feel that they were plastered
open and that Ron had a good view of my pink hole.  It wasn't
until a few second later that I remembered the recent alterations
down there.  Not only could he see my opening, but also my very
naked and completely exposed clit as well.  As soon as I thought
of this, I felt it stiffening in the brisk air-conditioned air of
the classroom.

It was intensely exciting to be showing a boy my big stiff clit
right there in class like that.  I had intended to give him a
flash, but having my legs apart felt so good that I rolled my
hips back and gave them a little jerk to make my clit wave at him
before I closed my legs and ended the show.

The effect on Ron was very entertaining.  His cock had got so big
that it was almost out of the leg of his shorts.  It was so hard
that I had no trouble at all seeing its outline even under the
denim.  It was a very nice outline and I wished I could see it
without his shorts in the way.  I wanted to know if the veins on
it were as distended as Bud's got when I teased him into an
erection.  I wondered if he were leaking a little, too.  I leaned
forward as far as I dared to try to see, but it was too dark
under his desk.

Ron seemed surprised to see me trying to peek at his cock.  I
guess he thought looking was something only boys did.  He was
wrong about that.  I decided then that I had go get a look at his
equipment, even if it was just a quick look.

Our little game had used up most of the period and when the bell
rang to signal the end of school, Ron was still rock-hard.  He
stayed in his seat, slowly stacking his books and neatly
arranging his pencils in his backpack while everyone behind him
filed past and out the door.  When only he and I and Miss Albert
were left in the room, I got up and walked around in front of him
so he could stand without Miss Albert seeing his erection tenting
the front of his pants.

"Ron, would you mind letting me copy the English class homework
assignment from you?  I didn't get it all written down."  Which
was a complete fabrication, because we didn't have the same
English teacher, much less the same class.  Fortunately, Ron
wasn't a complete idiot.  He caught on immediately.

"Sure, Sam.  I have it in the notebook in my locker.  Let's walk
down the hall and I'll get it for you."  He gave me a quick wink
as he said that.

I walked very close to him as we left the classroom to cover his
condition.  Maybe too close.  When we were almost out the door, I
could swear I heard Miss Albert mutter to herself "I wish they'd
get a room" or something like that.

Instead of the lockers, I led Ron down the stairs to the basement
and into the unused boys' restroom.  I thought he might me more
comfortable there than the girl's, but he didn't look all that
comfortable either way, so it may not have mattered.  I took the
backpack out of his hands and set it on the counter next to the
sink with mine.

"OK.  You've seen mine.  Let me see yours," I told him.  When he
didn't move quick enough I said, "Come on, whip it out.  Let me
see that lovely cock."  I wasn't too sure about calling it
'lovely' but I couldn't think of a better adjective at the time.

Ron unzipped his fly and pried his stiff rod out of his briefs
and eased it past the teeth of his zipper until it was dangling
out of his shorts like a fat sausage, bobbing and swaying between
his legs.  I was there in a flash and had it in my hand before he
could get away.

"Careful!" he said.  "I've been ready to shoot for a half-hour
now.  It won't take much to make me pop my rocks."

I thought that was good of him to let me know that, but I could
tell from the way it throbbed in my hand with the beat of his
racing heart that he wasn't going to last long.

"That's a beautiful cock you have there," I said, stroking it as
gently as I could.  It seemed to only make matters worse, though.
 He stiffened and pushed his hips forward, fucking his hard cock
through my fingers.

I decided not to make poor Ron wait any longer.  I stepped close
to him and pressed my body against his side with my arm around
his waist while holding his cock in my other hand.  Since I could
not afford to get cum-spattered today, I aimed it away from both
of us while I stroked it slowly and firmly from the head down the
richly-veined shaft to his hard balls.

"Let me make you cum," I said, "Just relax and let me get you
off."

He was more than ready.  His cock was very hard and it kept
trying to point upwards.  I had to push it down so it was aimed
away from us.  

It only took a few strokes and Ron started to tense up all over.
One more and I felt his cock throb and he moaned loudly as he
fired a blast of cum into the air to land on the dirty tile floor
over six feet away.  The next glob of cum landed a bit closer and
after only three big spurts he ran dry.

I tried to coax some more out of him, and he did his best to cum
some more for me, but he had shot his wad and I realized that for
the first time I knew what that phrase meant.

There was a small drop oozing out the hole in the end of Ron's
cock and I couldn't resist having a taste, just for purpose of
comparison, strictly in the interest of science.  I squatted down
and licked it off.  It was kind of salty-sweet and had a metallic
aftertaste, which was pretty much the same flavor as all the
other cum I had tasted.  

Ron saw me rolling his cum across my tongue and he squeezed his
cock hard for me, trying to wring some more out of it.  I let him
rest the head on my out-stretched tongue while he worked one more
drop down the shaft.  I swallowed it and kissed his cock.

"Not bad, Ron.  That's a pretty tasty cock you have there.  If I
wasn't on my way to an doctor's appointment, I might have gotten
more...personal with it."  I winked at him to let him know just
what he'd missed and I grabbed my bag and left him to work his
cock back into his pants and find his way out of the basement on
his own.  That was one boy who wasn't going home with blue-balls,
or the start of a lifelong resentment toward girls.



Neeka was waiting in the already mostly deserted parking lot with
Mom when I came out of the building.  They were chatting away
while I crossed the lot.  Mom was laughing at something Neeka had
said when I walked up.

"Hi, Mom.  What's so funny?" I asked.

"Monique was just telling me about the pact you two made to share
everything and how she's been covering for you today since you
had an appointment this afternoon.  It seems she got a bit more
than she bargained for."

"Is that what's been going on?" I asked Neeka.  "You seemed to
have been very 'active' today."

"'Active' is hardly the word for it," she giggled.  "Those two
rats have been taking advantage of the situation.  You'd think
they had never had sex before the way they've been going at it. 
I think they got the idea from watching tag-team wrestling on TV.
 After every darn period, one of them would drag me off and fuck
me.  They switched off so they only had to cum every couple of
hours, but I've been screwed every hour all day long.  My poor
pussy is a wreck!  The only break I got was when I managed to
suck Jim off instead of fucking him."

"Where are those two horn-dogs now?"

"Bud and Jolene are off somewhere together.  No surprise there. 
I saw Jim and Steve drive off in Steve's car.  I have no idea
what that's about."

"I do, I'm afraid.  They are plotting something.  Those two
thieves are thicker than I knew.  Tell you about it later.  So,
your chastity-plug came in handy?" I asked, getting back to the
subject.

"I'll say!  Even though I tried to dump every load as quick as I
could, I still wound up with about a quart of cum in me.  If not
for that plug, I'd have had it running down my legs all day.  I
was going straight home and douche, but I wanted to check with
you first to see if you wanted to get together after your trip to
the doctor's.  And if you wanted me to go along."

"Thanks, but you go get cleaned up and take a break.  You've
earned some down-time.  Besides, Mom will be there to hold my
hand."

"That's right, honey.  I'll be there all the time.  You have
nothing to worry about."

"Then let's get on with it.  The sooner we get there, the sooner
this will be over with."



I was wrong about that.  Very, very wrong.  I had forgotten how
long you had to wait in a doctor's office before you were seen,
even if you got there on time.  After we had waited for forty
long minutes I was about to jump out of my skin.

"This is ridiculous!  How long is this going to take?"

"Please try to calm down, honey.  This isn't like going to the
shrink, where you get fifty minutes and then you're out. 
Different people have different medical problems.  Some take
longer than others to diagnose or to treat.  You can't expect
things to run by the clock.  You wouldn't want to be treated like
you were on an assembly-line, would you?"

"No, I guess not.  But I wish they would hurry up and call my
name.  I just want to get this over."

"I understand.  Try to take your mind off it.  Read a magazine."

I chuckled and said, "I did.  It had an article that said the
President might be Impeached."

"That must be a really old issue.  Was it about Clinton?"

"No, Nixon."  I'd been paying attention in History class, too.  I
almost said 'Andrew Johnson', but I didn't think Mom was up on
post-Civil War politics.

We both laughed at my joke anyway, and it seemed to relieve some
of the stress that I had been building up.

"The reading material in doctor's waiting rooms is notorious for
being out of date," Mom said.  "I remember seeing a copy of
Popular Science that predicted that before the turn of the
century, cars would fly, and there would be a computer terminal
in every house."

"Flying cars?  What a terrible idea.  And what's a computer
terminal?  Is that like a PDA?"

"No, it's just the printer and the keyboard.  The computer was
somewhere else and it was as big as a house."

"That makes no sense."

"A lot of the things people used to believe we would have by now
made no sense.  Progress is what you can make tomorrow with that
you have today.  People who try to predict the future always
assume that nothing will change except the few things they
want."

"Like the flying cars?  Was there really a time when that sounded
like a good idea to anyone?"

"I don't know.  I'm not that old.  But since you can hardly drive
two blocks without seeing an accident, it would seem insane to
think that these same idiots who can't manage to avoid each other
on the ground would be any safer in the air."

A nurse stuck her head out of a doorway and called, "Samantha
Kramer."  I was so startled; I almost jumped out of my chair. 
Talking with Mom had distracted me for a few minutes, but all my
nervousness came back in an instant as I scrambled to my feet.

"This way, please."  

The nurse seemed professional and friendly, not at all like
Helga, the She-Wolf of the SS, whom I suppose I expected.  She
introduced herself to me as Cathy and she led me to the scale and
wrote down my weight and height.  Somewhere I had managed to gain
a couple of pounds.  I was still 5'1", but the scale said 107.  I
wondered if I needed to lose that, or if it was new muscle-mass.

We trooped through a maze of little rooms where I had my
temperature and blood-pressure checked, then some blood drawn by
a nice girl in a blue-checked smock.  After being given a
questionnaire to fill out, we were led to a small examining room
to wait for the doctor, who would be along "in just a moment"
according to the nurse.

The moment turned into several.  Long after we had finished the
questionnaire, which was all 'no, I've never had bubonic plague'
and 'yes, I have all my own original parts', we had time to talk
some more.

"Are you still nervous, honey?"

"Yes.  Some.  This is a nice place, though.  Everyone is friendly
and they all seem to know their jobs.  The girl who drew blood
hardly hurt at all when she stuck me."

"Yes, that's been my experience, too.  Dr. Bonner always has good
staff.  His nurse, Cathy, has been with him as long as I've
coming here.  That's one way you know a doctor is good, he hires
good people and he keeps them."

"That makes sense.  The doctor Yvette took me to always seemed to
have a new nurse each time I went.  They always seemed like
former prison guards to me."

"Oh, no!  That's very bad, Sam.  Next, you'll tell me his name
was Mengele."

"No, it was Acula.  Who's Mengele?"

"Never mind.  You'll learn about him soon enough.  But let's talk
about something else.  What did you learn in school today?"

"I learned that I'm not as good an actress as I thought I was."

"Uh, oh.  That sounds ominous."

"It was embarrassing.  I got found out while I was working out in
the weight room with Steve and the guys."

"I was going to ask how that little experiment was going.  What
happened?"

"I almost ripped the power-lift machine out and tore the wall
down."

"My goodness!  What did the boys say about that?"

"Steve made them promise to keep shut about it and I don't think
there's going to be any trouble there.  Steve was really sweet
about the whole thing.  But I found out something important   I
know how I can control the power now.  It's all adrenalin.  Well,
mostly adrenalin.  The ripping cars open part is the adrenalin,
the Dragon face, the other skin stuff and the physical changes
are mostly trance things.  The rest is just me.  I'm beginning to
understand where this is coming from.  It's not just one thing,
like I thought.  It's lots of things that all come together."

"So, how do you control it?"

"Basically, I just have to keep my cool.  As long I don't get
hyped-up with adrenalin, the rest of it is something I have to
start voluntarily.  But it was the Power that scared me.  The
feeling that I was out of control, you know?  Now I know how to
keep it leashed."

"And how to unleash it?"

"Yep.  If I get mad, or if I get pumped-up deliberately, I can do
things   awesome things   without hardly any effort at all.  It's
just this incredible primal strength that takes over and I lose
the ability to judge how much force I'm using.  It just jumps
right off the scale when it's unleashed   as you say."

"Dragon Power."

"Exactly.  Very deep, very primal, very untamed.  'Dragon Power',
I like that."

There was a scratching noise at the door, presumably someone
pulling my chart from the holder, and the exam room door swung
open.

Dr. Frank Bonner wasn't at all what I expected.  I guess I really
didn't know what to expect   either a kindly, grey-haired man
with sparkling eyes and a ready smile, or a gruff, brusque man
with a perpetually sour expression who nevertheless inspired
confidence in you.

In reality, he was a short, wiry, balding fellow with a white
fringe of hair that draped over his ears into a pony-tail that
hung down his back.  I'd never seen a doctor wear a pony tail,
especially one who had so little hair to put into it.  As he
peered through his bifocals at my new chart I saw that his face
was creased from years of exposure to the sun.  His eyebrows were
white as well, and were so scraggly that they looked like a
couple of hairy caterpillars crawling across his face.  He wore
the traditional white lab-coat, but he wore it over a tie-dyed
t-shirt and a pair of jeans.  He had on a pair of scruffy canvas
deck-shoes and no socks.  He was about as unimpressive a sight as
I had ever expected to see behind a stethoscope and I liked him
the instant I saw him.

He looked up from the chart and then looked back and forth from
me to Mom and back.

"Hi, Sam," he said cheerfully as he sat down on a rolling stool.
"I'm Doctor Bonner.  I hope we haven't kept you waiting too long.
 And please excuse my staring, but Mrs. Reynolds told me that she
was your guardian, and that you two were not related.  Seeing the
both of you together made me question that.  You two are as alike
as any mother and daughter I've seen."

Mom and I looked at each other.  This wasn't the first time
someone had mistaken us for being related, but it was the first
time that someone in his position had made that mistake.  I tried
to correct him without insulting his professional judgment.

"I'm very flattered that you think so, Doctor Bonner, but really,
the similarity in appearance between Mrs. Reynolds and me is
purely coincidental."

Dr. Bonner didn't look convinced, but I thought he might let it
pass.  He didn't.

"Completely coincidental?  Are you sure there hasn't been any
non-genetic contribution?"

"Non-genetic?  I'm not sure...oh!"  I looked a question at Mom. 
She shrugged.

"I'm sorry," she said to me. "I should have told you that I
discussed my plan to give you the serum with Frank.  I did tell
you that he had been my doctor for a long time.  He knows about
my treatment, and that I was planning to use it on someone
else."

"And after seeing you, Miss Kramer, I deduced that I was looking
at the other beneficiary of that remarkable elixir.  Truly
remarkable stuff.  I with there had been some way to preserve the
formula.  Ah, well.  May I examine the results?"

I nodded.  This wasn't the exam I expected, but it was a
reasonable request, since Dr. Bonner was obviously the best
person to confirm that everything was all right.

"Then please disrobe completely and sit up on the end of the
examining table here.  You may have a drape if you'd like."

I stood up and started unbuttoning my blouse.

"No, thanks.  I've overcome any problems I might have had with
nudity.  Especially since the treatment, I feel quite comfortable
in just my skin."

I hung up my blouse on a hanger and unzipped my skirt and stepped
out of it.  Mom hung it up while I climbed onto the table and sat
down carefully on the paper sheet.  Dr. Bonner gave me a thorough
going-over above the waist, with special attention to the
piercings in my nipples, which he examined suspiciously before
conceding that they had healed perfectly.

He then checked for lumps and any other abnormalities.  His touch
was firm, but gentle.  He had a lot of ground to cover and he did
it methodically.  He spent such a long time at it, that By the
time be finished I might have suspected him of being a dirty old
man, except that his poking and squeezing was far too clinical to
be anything but professional.

"Well," he said, making some notes in my chart, "you will be glad
to hear that everything appears completely normal.  The
enlargement seems to have been perfectly symmetrical and your
supportive and glandular tissue has firmed up to a remarkable
degree.  The added weight hasn't caused you any problems?"

"No.  It hasn't."

"Good.  No problems with balance or posture?"

"None...well a little at first, but I got used to them pretty
quickly.  There are some things I have to do differently.  Tying
my shoes was a problem at first.  I use mirrors more than I used
to.  That sort of thing."

"Indeed.  I see that you don't wear a bra."

"No.  I'm quite comfortable without one.  There is no sag at all,
you see?"  I pulled my shoulders back and put my hands under my
breasts to emphasize the lack of any sag or droop.

"I see.  Yes...."  He sounded like he wanted to pay me a
compliment, but he felt it would have been inappropriate.  He
might have been an old-school Gynecologist, but he was still a
man and he still reacted like one.  He stared a couple of seconds
longer than medically necessary and then he cleared his throat
and resumed questioning me.

"Have you experienced any pain lately?"

I'm sure he meant pain related to my breast enhancement, but
coming so soon after my 'afternoon on the rack' as Neeka had put
it, and my new game with Polly, it struck me as funny.  I managed
to contain the laughter and only smiled while I answered.

"No, no pain to speak of."

His bushy eyebrows jumped a bit as he took in my expression and
my plain answer.  I'm sure he saw right through me.  He thought a
bit before he continued.

"Good.  Like I always say, 'no pain, no pain'."  He smiled a
little at his own joke.  "Well, let's continue with the
examination, shall we?"  He reached out and pulled a knob on the
side of the examining table.  The end behind me swung up into a
slanted backrest and locked into place.

"Just lean back and lift your feet, please."  When I did, he
flipped down the front of the table and a pair of metal stirrups
rose up.  "Now just put your feet in the stirrups and try to
relax."

While I got settled in the stirrups with my knees high and spread
and my butt almost hanging off the edge of the table, he pulled
on a pair of latex gloves and rolled an instrument tray over to
the table.  Right on cue, his nurse came in to chaperone during
the pelvic exam.  She stood next to my shoulder and patted my arm
reassuringly.

Dr. Bonner took one look at my pussy and his eyebrows nearly
jumped off his forehead.

"Sonnuvvagun!  A clitoridotomy!  A total one, too!  You almost
never see that.  Most surgeons only do partials.  A lot of women
have trouble getting used to the additional stimulation of having
their clitoris exposed all the time.  This is remarkable.  I can
certainly see why you might want it done.  Your clitoris is
significantly larger than normal.  Did you get advice from
someone to have your hood removed for that reason?"

"No.  No one advised me to do it," I told him.  I was having a
hard time thinking of ways to skirt the truth.  I wanted to
confide in him, but I felt at a disadvantage in my vulnerable
position.  He was perfectly comfortable peering up at me from
between my legs, but I was uneasy about revealing secrets to a
strange man with his face in my pussy.  When I considered my own
description of the situation, it began to seem almost comical
that I was having trouble opening up to a man to whom I was
already perfectly wide-open.

"So, you must have decided to have the clitoridotomy at the same
time as you had the rings put in," he went on. "The healing on
both looks about the same to me.  Whether under medical advice or
not, it was probably the correct course of action.  Otherwise,
you would have a problem with cleanliness and possibly with
adhesions due to the hood's constriction on your clitoris.  I'm
just surprised that you opted for a complete removal rather than
the more common partial procedure.  Not many women are quite that
adventurous."

I was speechless.  My doctor   and I guess I had just started to
think of him as 'my doctor'   had just confirmed that the sexual
mutilation I thought I had endured at the hands of a lunatic was
a medically justified and even necessary procedure. 
'Flabbergasted' just about describes how I felt.

He squeezed out some clear lubricant onto the tips of his gloved
fingers and before I could think of a response to his last
comment, he slid two fingers into me and started feeling around.
In a reflex response to the sudden intrusion, my opening clamped
down, followed by the rest of my vaginal muscles.

"Sorry," he said, working his ringers around in me.  "I thought
it would be easier for you if I did that without giving you a
chance to tighten up.  Just relax while I check around under the
hood."

He had only gone in to the second knuckle when those eyebrows
shot up again.

"My, my!" he said, smiling.  "Here is something you don't find
between a girl's legs very often."

I assumed that he wouldn't be so happy about it if he had found
something abnormal.  I thought he was making a joke to put me
more at ease.

"What?" I asked, playing along.

"Balls!" he said.

I clapped my hands over my face in embarrassment.  I was so
nervous about the exam and I had gotten so used to carrying the
pair of metal balls around in me that I had forgotten to take
them out.

"It's all right," he said.  "Nothing to be ashamed about.  But we
need to have them out if I'm going to do a thorough examination.
Come on, let me have them."

He took his fingers out and held his hand under me, waiting.  It
took me a couple of tries to get over being embarrassed and get
my muscles working again, but after a bit of concentration on my
part, I managed to push them out and the heavy steel balls
plopped into his hand.

"Here, Cathy," he said to his nurse, who was ready with a small
basin.  "Run these through the autoclave, please."

Nurse Cathy stepped out of the room on her errand.

I thought that was nice of him, to sterilize them before he gave
them back.  I was still mortified that I hadn't remembered to
take them out myself.  It was careless and inconsiderate of me.

"Those are some heavy ones.  You must have remarkable control to
be able to carry them around.  And for it to become so routine
that you forgot them shows a great amount of strength and
dexterity."

"Thanks.  I practice rolling them around and keeping them
separate, so they don't click together.  I think it improves the
muscle tone and helps me stay tight."

"Well, you are certainly tight.  If Mrs. Reynolds hadn't told me
you had an active sex life and but for the absence of a hymen, I
might have thought you were a virgin."  He continued the exam
without the balls in the way and kept up the conversation at the
same time.  He had very good hands and he knew just how much he
could pull and push without making me uncomfortable.  I started
to feel more at ease now that he was the only stranger in the
room.  Maybe it was just that I had started to enjoy the exam. 
Certainly the lubrication he had applied was becoming quickly
superfluous as my own juices started to flow.  I was able to
relax more and that helped me be more candid with him.  Even when
he forced a finger into my anus, I stayed relaxed.  Mostly
relaxed, anyway.  Having someone grip you like a bowling ball and
feel around inside you is an interesting experience.  I was
undecided if it was a pleasant or unpleasant one, but pleasant
seemed to be winning out.  I hadn't been a big fan of anal play,
but I could see how it might be fun   under the right
circumstances.

"Thank you for reassuring me," I said, trying to keep the arousal
and the distress out of my voice.  "I do have a very active 'sex
life' as you put it.  If you knew what all had been inside me,
you'd be even more impressed."

Dr. Bonner's had taken his finger out of my rear and I was able
to relax even more.  I grew a smile that wouldn't go away and I
started running off at the mouth.

"One thing I should mention that I can do.  I can dilate my
cervix at will.  It lets me take large cocks all the way inside."
 I held up my hands to illustrate.  I didn't know it I was asking
his opinion or just bragging.

Dr. Bonner looked skeptical.  Only one hairy eyebrow went up.

"Really!" I declared.  "All the way inside me, right into my
uterus," I said, proudly.

"That is clever of you," he said.  "I guess I'll just have to see
that for myself, though.  Can you show me?"

"Sure!"  I was getting very aroused and was at the giddy stage. 
My clit had swelled up considerably and looked like a long plump
lump running into my slit.  The end poked out over my opening and
when he took his hands away to pick up the speculum, I shook my
hips to make it wag a little.  He had commented that it was much
bigger than normal.  I figured he was entitled to see it when it
was engorged.  I noticed Mom covering a smile with her hand.  She
was probably thinking that I might have relaxed a bit too much. 
She might have been right about that, but I wanted to tell Dr.
Bonner a few more secrets and that would be easier to do if I was
distracted.

The speculum was the metal kind with the ratchet and wheel
thingie to open either end independently.  I spread my legs apart
widely and tried to open up inside as best I could so he could
get it in me easily.  I had to tilt my hips a bit to give him a
straight shot at it and I was pleased when it went all the way
down to the wide part without a hitch.

"You are very talented," he said, approvingly.  "Your muscle
control is close to phenomenal."

I smiled happily.  Flattery is always welcome.

"Now show me how you take such a big penis in such a small
vagina."  He pulled on a headband with a flashlight on it and
peered down inside while he adjusted the speculum so he could see
better.

I concentrated on putting on a show by dilating my cervix and
wiggling it around.  It was a trick he seemed to find amusing
until I really got going and made it yawn open like I did for Jim
and Bud.  Then his amusement faded into a more professional
expression and he turned to open a drawer and take out another
instrument with a long gooseneck and an eyepiece.  Without
explanation, he fed the small end though the speculum and peered
into the eyepiece.  He lowered it deeped and deeper into me,
until I felt it brush against my cervix and I knew he was probing
inside my womb.  I resumed my efforts to open the path for him
and I was rewarded by a couple of 'ummm's and 'oh's as he looked
around.  Finally, he pulled the gooseneck thing out.  I thought
it had been as deeply inside me as anything had ever been.

"Remarkable!" he said, laying the scope aside.  "You have a great
degree of voluntary control over muscles that other girls don't
even know they have.  I was concerned that you might have been
injured during one of your escapades, but I can clearly
see...quite clearly, in fact...that everything is intact.  I
would say 'normal' but very little about you seems to fit that
description.

"I can see why you would be concerned about preventing pregnancy.
 But there is something else you want to tell me, too.  Isn't
there?"  He removed the speculum but made no move to lower the
stirrups.

"Yes, there is.  I need to confide in you.  You know about the
unusual degree of control I have over things that normally are
not under conscious control.  It goes much further than that."  I
peeled off the plastic bandage covering the needle-mark from
where the blood sample had been taken.  I held my arm out for his
inspection.

"You can't see the hole, can you?"

He examined my skin carefully.  He couldn't find anything because
it had healed almost the second the needle had been withdrawn.

"No, I can't," he said in a puzzled tone.

"I heal very quickly.  It's something else I have control over. 
Mom said it was like what stigmatics can do, in reverse."

"OK," he said, accepting my statement without judgment.

"You said the piercings and the hoodectomy had healed nicely. 
I'm sure they have.  But both were done only two days ago."

He said nothing, but his reluctance to accept my claim was clear
from his expression.

"OK, show and tell time.  Mom, remember the stigmata?"

"Yes, honey.  Vividly.  You scared the pee out of me when you did
that the first time."

"Then you may want to close your eyes.  It's 'hey y'all, watch
this' time again," I giggled.  My nervousness and arousal had
combined to put me in a drunken manic mood.  I was ready to try
to impress the doctor, who still looked skeptical, but couldn't
bring himself to say the word 'bullshit'.

I lay back on the slanted table and focused on the acoustic
ceiling tiles.  They were the same rectangular panels you see
everywhere, but the one right over me had a small flyspeck on it
and I locked in on that.  Sliding sideways in to a trance had
become so second-nature to me that I probably could have done it
in my sleep.  That brought up another line of thought involving
the dangers of nightmares, but I pushed it away quickly and dove
deeper into the place in my mind where I was the General and all
the billions of cells in my body were troops under my command.

I started with something bold and impressive.  I visualized a
slit in my skin.  A long bloodless gash through my skin that
spread open like a razor-cut and revealed the layer of muscle
underneath.  I didn't need to look to know it was happening, I
heard Mom start to retch and Dr. Bonner roll his stool quickly
away from me.

I closed the slit and healed it shut.  Since I had opened it by
myself, it was a quick and easy process to close it again, taking
only a small amount of energy.  I heard Dr. Bonner's stool roll
slowly back as his curiosity overcame his shock.

For my next trick, I picked an easy one.  To make it quick, I did
the blue bikini swimsuit what I already knew.  I wondered how
effective it would be with me lying there with my legs apart, but
it was a good segue anyway.  I removed the bikini by making it
smaller and smaller, until it disappeared completely.

After the bikini, I marched the heart-shaped tattoo from its
starting point in the hollow of my shoulder, across my chest,
down my stomach to my hip, and then down my leg to stop on my
knee, before making it disappear as well.

I counted off three seconds to make sure I had Dr. Bonner's
attention, then I snapped into the full animated Dragon
body-suit, took my scaly, clawed feet out of the stirrups and sat
up quickly to see his expression.

I had planned on saying something snappy, or maybe just giving a
growl to top the effect, but when I saw poor Dr. Bonner's face, I
knew it wasn't needed.  The man was busy showing off his own
skin-color control   he'd turned white as a sheet and his mobile
eyebrows were trying to crawl across his scalp and hide behind
his head.

Fearing that I might be giving him a heart-attack, I dropped the
effect immediately and waited for him to recollect himself.  It
took him a solid minute before he was able to speak, and I
promised myself to save the Dragon for the bad-guys from now on.

"That...ah...was most impressive," he said in a small weak
voice.

"I'm afraid it doesn't stop there," I told him.  "There are other
things I can do, too."  I waited to see how he was handling this
before going on.

"Oh?  What kind of things?"  His professional manner was coming
back and he began to look more like a doctor with an interesting
patient than a scared old man.  There's nothing like scaring the
crap out of someone to see what they're made of.  Bonner looked
to be fairly stern stuff underneath.

"Strength," I ticked them off on my fingers, "telepathy, and a
pain threshold so high that it may as well not exist."

"Telepathy?  You mean you can read my mind?"  His skepticism
shattered, he looked ready to believe whatever I told him.

"No, I can't.  Don't worry.  The best I can do is read strong
emotions, like fear.  But I can pick that up at a distance.  I
don't know how far yet, but a couple of blocks, at least.  I can
only talk mind to mind to one other person, but that link is so
strong that she can visit my dreams.  I can send to others a
little tiny bit, but it has to be head to head and all I can get
across is the same kind of strong emotion that I can sense from
most other people."

"So, if someone in the next room were to become badly frightened
for some reason..."

"I would know it.  I could even tell the direction and distance,
but not very well."

"Remarkable!"

"The other two things are what bother me the most.  I'm a lot
stronger than I used to be, and that strength seems to be
multiplied several times when I'm mad, or   you know how you get
all revved-up when you're working out, you feel like you're
suddenly a lot stronger?"  I looked at his thin arms and dropped
that analogy.  "I think it's the adrenalin that does it.  Does
that seem reasonable?"  I didn't want to tread on his turf by
going on about my own theory, but it fit so well with what I had
seen that I had to mention it.

"Yes, it's quite reasonable.  There are many cases in the medical
literature of hysterical strength being demonstrated under
conditions of great stress.  The basis for this has always been
assumed to be an idiosyncratic reaction to adrenalin.  You seem
to have managed to learn to tap into it voluntarily.  You
mentioned stigmata as an explanation for your extraordinary body
control and this is as good an explanation as any.  We really
don't understand how the mind affects the body and we're just
beginning to try."

"It's the pain thing that bothers me the most, doc.  I've become
a pain-slut   something Mom was afraid would happen.  In me, the
most excruciating thing you can imagine feeling gets turned into
something neither pain nor pleasure, and I find some things to
be...enjoyable that other people would cringe just to think of. 
Does this make any sense?"

"Ah, well, you should more properly be taking this up with a
psychiatrist...."

"You understand that I need to keep this a secret.  The fewer
people who know, the better."

"Why?"  He sounded puzzled.

I thought back and realized that somehow I'd missed that part.  I
blushed.  Embarrassed not at the situation, but at the claim I
was about to make.

"The thing is...ah...what I do with this stuff.  I have, like
this part-time job.  More of a hobby, really...."

Mom interrupted my verbal meandering.  "She's a SuperHeroine,"
she said, flatly.  I swear I could hear the capital letters when
she said it.  I almost expected some Wagnerian theme music to
break out in the room.

"Yes.  That." I finished, lamely.  "I know that sounds soooo
totally egomaniacal."

Dr. Bonner had almost gone back to his old self, but for some
reason, now he looked shocked again.  His eyes unfocussed and he
looked off into a corner of the room for a bit before looking
back at me.

"My daughter has a close friend that she went to school with..."
he started, and then swallowed before going on with what he
wanted to say.  "The friend and her children were in a terrible
car wreck this past weekend and my daughter went to visit her in
the hospital this morning.  She stopped by to tell me about it at
lunch.  Apparently another car passed too closely and forced them
off the road and their car rolled down an embankment.  They were
trapped in their car and Gloria   my daughter's friend   was
afraid the gas tank would explode and burn them all alive. 
Apparently a policeman arrived shortly after the wreck happened,
but the car was all crushed and there wasn't anything he could do
to get them out.  Gloria told her that a couple of girls came
along and stopped to help.  She said the policeman put a blanket
over them and then one of the girls climbed on the hood of the
car and tore the roof off to free them.   I assumed that she was
just describing a dream she'd had under the influence of the
drugs they gave her for the pain.  Both her legs were broken in
the wreck you see, and she's on a morphine drip to help control
the pain.  That kind of medication makes you pretty goofy."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that.  It wasn't a question and I
couldn't tell what it was he wanted to know.  I knew what I
wanted to know though.

"Are the kids all right?"

"Yes.  Shaken up.  Scared to death about their mother being hurt,
but they are fine.  The car was a blue Plymouth minivan."  That
last bit was so disconnected that it had to be a test.

"No.  It was green," I said.  The silence that followed was so
thick that it could have been cut with a chainsaw.

"As you say.  It was green.  And you know that because...?"

"I'm the one who got them out of the car."

"Thank you."

"No.  Don't thank me.  I don't do it for gratitude.  I don't do
it for any kind of reward."

"Then why?"

"Because I can.  It's as simple as that.  I believe in doing what
you can to help.  I can, so I do.  That's all.  I don't want
publicity.  I certainly don't want fame.  I learned very early on
that the only thing I can get from doing this that is of any
value to me at all is the knowledge that I did what I could.  So
save the thanks.  I don't want to seem rude, but you don't need
to thank me for doing what I must do if I'm going to be able to
look at myself in the mirror.  It's actually a kind of insult,
see?  If I didn't believe I was doing the right thing, all the
thanks in the world wouldn't be enough to take the job. 
Understand?"

"No, I don't.  But then, I don't have your unique perspective on
the matter."

"As I was saying," I said to get back to the subject.  "Pain is a
regular part of my job.  If I jump in front of a bullet..."

"You've done that?"

"Uh, yeah.  It hurt.  A lot.  But I had to deal with it and keep
going, see?  I can't be standing by, going 'Ow, ow, ow' while
people are being killed.  I have to suck it up and keep
fighting."

"So this high tolerance, even an affinity, for pain is a
necessity for you?"

"I guess.  Does that sound like a rationalization?"

"As I said, I don't have your perspective.  And I'm not qualified
to tell you you're not completely out of your tree   pardon my
clinical jargon   but it does sound like you have developed a
viable means of coping with a...professional hazard.  I wouldn't
worry too much about it.  The fact that you are concerned means
that you are aware of the potential for this to become a problem
and that indicates to me that you still have control of the
situation.  If you find yourself seeking out situations where you
put yourself at risk just so you can experience pain, then you
will know it has become a problem and you need to do something
about it."

That made me feel a lot better.  I hadn't gone out looking for
The Torturer hoping he would hurt me.  I just had been able to
turn the tables on him by being tough enough to take what he did
to me and turn the other cheek with a smile on my face.

"Thanks!  That helps."

He helped me down off the table and gave me some paper towels to
wipe off the greasy lubricant he had applied to my pussy and my
anus.  I thought the darn goo was unnecessary.  I would have been
fine without it.

Mom helped me back into my clothes while Dr. Bonner watched with
an almost wistful expression.  I had been quite comfortable naked
and I think he had gotten used to me being that way, too.  It
made me smile to think that there are some rewards for
being...decorative.

When I was dressed and seated again, he gave us his opinion of my
health and recommendations for making the best of it.  Most of it
was the same dry stuff we got in the Health segments of girl's
Gym.  When he got down to why I had agreed to the visit in the
first place, my ears perked up.

"...even allowing for your unique physiology and your abilities,
I think you are in excellent health and I have no reservations
about you becoming a breast milk donor.  I will send a letter to
that effect to the hospital and they will let you know when you
can start making deliveries.  Although why someone like you would
want to do this is beyond me."

"Because I can."

"As you say.  And I admire your sense of purpose.  I suppose
superhumans need a strong sense of purpose, as well as a very
rigid sense of right and wrong, to deal with the temptations of
the job."

"Temptations?"

"You've never wished you could take revenge on someone for doing
something petty and making you mad?"

"Of course.  But anyone who really makes me mad is going to be
very sorry for a very short time afterward."  I smiled wickedly
for the nice doctor who thought I was a superhuman.  Of course
there were times when all of us want to pound someone.  But we
don't, even if we can.  It's just not right.  I had wanted
someone to pound for days, and I was still waiting for the Killer
Robots from Space to land so I would have something to really
wail on.  Even now that I knew how to limit the amount of
destruction I was capable of doing and I felt much more positive
about using my strength, I still had an urge to really let
loose.

I left Dr. Bonner's office with spring in my step and a
prescription for birth control pills strong enough to keep a
female moose from getting pregnant.  



***



On the way out past the appointment clerk's desk, we overheard a
news broadcast talking about a couple of teens who had gone
camping in the woods east of town and had gotten separated from
the group and hadn't been seen since the previous night.  A
search was underway for them and the reporter said that concern
was growing, since nightfall was only three hours away.

The reporter ran down a list of all the dangerous creatures
native to the woods and how a couple of hungry and lost teens
would be easy prey to a bear, a pack of wild pigs, or a gator in
one of the many swampy areas that dotted the landscape.

What he didn't say was that the two had probably separated
themselves intentionally so they could spend the night cuddling
up in a sleeping bag together without the benefit of chaperonage
by the rest of the group.  The story of a couple of scared
children lost in the woods would play much better than the one of
a couple of horny kids who had snuck off a good distance so the
sounds of them trying to screw each other's brains out wouldn't
be heard back at the main camp.  At least that's what I would
have been doing if I had been one of those kids.

Following the reporter's spiel was the inevitable interview with
the Chief Law Enforcement Official On the Scene, in this case,
good old Sheriff Bob Foster.  Sheriff Foster gave the equally
predicable reassurances that everything that could be done to
locate the two unfortunate youths was being done   dogs,
experienced local hunters, all available resources were being
brought to bear on the situation.  Blah, blah, blah.  He was so
polished that I thought Sheriff Bob had probably given this same
speech several times before during his time in office.

"Not all," I mumbled to myself.

"What was that?" Mom asked.

"I said that not all 'available resources' had been brought to
bear."

"Oh.  That's what I thought.  I suppose you want to join the
search?"

"I think I might be able to help."

"OK."

"Gee, that was easy," I thought.  But then, finding a couple of
kids lost in the woods did sound a good deal safer than some of
the things I had been into lately.  She was probably relieved to
hear that this job wouldn't involve me going out as bait for some
sadistic nut-case.

I rang up Neeka on the mental intercom and discussed it with her.
 She suggested doing this job incognito, wearing hiking clothes
and carrying backpacks instead of roaring in on the 'DragonCycle'
in full crime-fighting regalia.  I thought that was a very good
plan and congratulated her on being willing to dispense with the
bike this time out.

She said she didn't see how it could be useful in the forest and
besides, the place was already a media-rich environment.  If we
showed up as The Dragon and sidekick, notice would be taken.  She
suggested meeting her back at the Reynolds house, and after
briefing Mom on the plan, that's just what we did.



We had just pulled into the driveway, when Neeka came out
carrying two backpacks and a bundle of clothes.

"I thought you would want to get moving right away," she said. 
"I packed the bags and got you some better clothes to wear, so
unless you have to go pee or something, we're ready to go."

I had peed before leaving the doctor's office.  Never missing a
chance to pee was one of my favorite axioms, and I also had to
use the restroom to finish wiping the grease out of my butt-crack
anyway.  That stuff made it all slippery and it was distracting.
Having a well-lubed anus wasn't unpleasant; in fact it opened up
new worlds for me.  I hadn't considered my nether hole to be an
erogenous zone before.  In fact, if someone had suggested putting
anything in it, I would have refused without thinking about it. 
Now, the idea of being fucked in the ass sounded vaguely
attractive.  At least it was something I would be willing to try
sometime in the future   say   as soon as I could arrange it.
Until then, I tried to take a mental inventory of the toys in my
drawer to see if there was something in there that could help me
make up my mind about having visitors in my back door.  I seemed
to remember several things that might fit, or that I might be
willing to experiment with.

Neeka already had her rough-country clothes on, so I changed into
mine in the back seat on the way.  She had brought a pair of my
jeans and what looked like one of her father's old denim shirts.
The jeans were a touch fashionable to be worn in the woods, but
it was probably the only thing in my closet that would be tough
enough to protect my legs from briars and stuff.  The shirt was
laughably huge on me, baggy even across my chest.  I started to
tie the shirt-tails together to make it fit me better, but I
decided to leave it hanging.  Although I wasn't happy with
looking tubby instead of voluptuous, this wasn't going to be a
situation where my looks would be any help at all and Neeka had
already pointed out the advantage to being incognito.

By the time I crawled into the jeans, sleeveless shirt and sturdy
half-boots she had brought, I had only managed to flash or moon
two cars and an 18-wheeler.  The cars hadn't paid much attention,
but the 18-wheeler stayed close until I had the shirt buttoned up
and had blown the driver a kiss.

After changing, I inventoried the packs she had brought.  Mine
held the first-aid kit, a couple of bottles of water, half a
dozen of the energy bars, my special suit and shoes, as well as
the fully-loaded fanny-pack.  

Neeka's was something of a surprise.  She had her own
crime-fighter outfit, a camp blanket, water, a pair of nunchuks,
and a big damn handgun.

As soon as I saw it she said, "I know.  You don't like guns.  But
I'm not sure how well my Kung Fu will do against a black bear and
anyway, ever since the other day, I've been feeling that I need
some more personal clout when we're out on a job.  Call me
chickenshit if you like, but I feel better knowing I have the
.357 along.  Those are hard-cast lead bullets in there.  They
should be good against anything we run into in the woods, from
feral pigs to felony perps."

"Where did you get this?"

"Dad got it for when he was away on business trips.  He wanted to
feel that Mom and I wouldn't be sitting home defenseless.  He
made us both go to the pistol range and practice with it until we
could both put all six rounds in the target at 25 feet.  Mom
always hated the thing.  Even though she got pretty good with it,
I doubt she would ever do anything more than point it at someone
if the house were really broken into.  She had no problem with me
taking it with me.  And I have no problem having it along."

"Not from me," I said, holding up my hands.  She made sense. 
Hand to hand combat was one thing, hand to tooth or claw would be
something else.  And being prepared for anything sounded like an
excellent plan.  Still, I sat the pack with the gun on the other
side of the seat from me and made sure the business end wasn't
pointed in my direction.

Finding out that my partner/sidekick/lover was armed and
dangerous was something of a shock.  Still, even though I didn't
want or need a gun, I had to admit that I was a minority of one.
All my professional colleagues carried them and had no problem
with the idea.  Gail Adams had even tried to talk shop with me on
the subject.  I had to admit that I could see situations where it
would be better to stand off and blast away rather than close
with someone, or something, that presented a clear danger.  I
decided that I should practice some with the throwing-stars as a
way to give myself the same capability.



When we reached the camping area, it was swarming with local
media types who were busy interviewing anyone who would stand
still long enough.  Access to the command post was blocked by a
deputy who barely glanced at my badge before waving us through. 
Apparently his job was only to keep the media far enough away for
some real work to get done.

When Mom pulled her very out of place luxury sedan in between a
couple of battered pickup trucks, Neeka and I piled out of the
car, shouldered our packs, and went looking for the Sheriff.  He
wasn't hard to find.  He was in a knot of people standing by a
rescue squad truck with a map taped to the side of it.  Neeka and
I joined the fringe of the group and listened to him run down the
areas that had been searched and where he wanted the next sweep
to go.  Someone in a plaid shirt and leather vest asked if we
would keep going after dark.

"No.  That would just get more people lost out here.  We sure
don't need that.  Do you want to be the one the TV people put on
the 11 o'clock news as 'lost while searching'?  I didn't think
so.  Listen folks, we're going to do this by the numbers until we
have something more than a lost-kids situation.  We're going to
run this sweep until a half-hour before sundown and then everyone
will head back in and report, so we know we haven't lost anyone.
Is that clear?"

There was a general round of regretful nodding at the wisdom of
not running search teams after dark, and everyone headed out for
their assigned spots.  After they were gone, only Neeka and I,
the Sheriff, Lt. Grogan, and a State Police officer whose rank I
didn't recognize were still left.  The Sheriff smiled when he saw
me and we joined the smaller circle.

"Hi, Sam.  Good to see you again."

"Sheriff.  Lieutenant.  I thought we'd see if you could use a
hand out here.  I hope you don't mind."

"Noooo!  Happy to have you anytime you care to join in.  I don't
know how we can make use of your, ah, special skills today, but
you are certainly welcome."

The State guy in the smokey-bear hat looked down at me and said,
"Bob, I didn't know you'd run so low on manpower that you'd
resorted to calling out the Girl Scouts, although this one looks
more like a Brownie to me.  Heh, heh!"

My friendly smile got thin and stretched as it widened to the
point of showing my clenched back-teeth.  The State Police
officer kept chuckling at his little joke and looking down at me,
but Neeka, the Sheriff and Grogan each took a half-step back to
give them a head start in removing themselves from a scene of
potential carnage.

"Ah, Phil..." Sheriff Foster started, but checked himself when I
wagged a finger in his direction.

Before Mr. Smokey-Hat could get the other foot in his mouth, I
put out a hand and said, "Sam Kramer.  Pleased to meet you."

He stuck out his hand in return and I took the best grip on it I
could.  He was a tall, rangy guy and his hands were much bigger
than mine, but I got a hold on three of his fingers and
squeezed.

He gave a grunt as I tightened my grip and said, "Gee, Bob. 
Chubby here has a grip on her."

That did it.  I cranked down on his fingers hard enough to feel
the bones bend and he dropped to his knees with his eyes crossed.
 I let go as soon as he got down to my level and he rocked back
on his heels and fetched up against the side of the truck,
holding his sore hand with the other as he checked for broken
bones.

"Sam, this is Phil Ledbetter," Sheriff Foster completed the
introductions.  "Phil is the local post commander- sort of my
opposite number in the State Police."  His voice sounded a little
funny, like he was trying to keep from laughing.

Grogan had turned half away and was trying to wipe the smile off
his face with one hand.  Apparently Phil was notorious for
foot-in-mouth disease and neither of them was too very sad to see
him called for it.

Ledbetter climbed back to a standing position, but stayed against
the truck.  He looked like he wanted to slap me, but he was too
scared to get close enough to try.

"Ah, Phil?" the Sheriff said, distracting the trooper from his
reaction to being humiliated by a fat Campfire Girl.  "This is
the girl you may have heard about.  The one who has been so
helpful lately."

Phil gave me the usual 'that little thing?' look while he figured
out what to say next.  He cleared his throat with a 'harumph!'
that usually followed a major loss of dignity in a man and said,
"If you think she can help, then I have no objection to her
joining in.  Give a guy a little warning the next time he's about
to make a fool of himself, OK?  Sorry if I gave offense, miss."

"That's OK, Captain," I said, taking a guess at his rank.  He let
it pass, so I might have got it right.  I stuck my hand out
again.  "No hard feelings?"

He almost took the bait.  His arm started forward, but he jerked
it back before the hand got within reach and put both hands
behind him in a sort of parade-rest stance.  He smiled grimly and
shook his head, 'no'.  I guessed it was both an answer to my
question and an indication that I wasn't going to catch him twice
the same way.  It showed me he was capable of learning from his
mistakes, so I decided to give Captain Ledbetter the benefit of
the doubt and let bygones be bygones.

Sheriff Foster pointed at the map and asked, "Would you like to
see where we've already searched?"

I looked around at the scraggly-looking trees and the thick
undergrowth.  It wasn't a bit like the woods behind the Reynolds
house, with the pine tree trunks as far as the eye could see and
the carpet of soft needles underfoot.  You could pass by ten feet
from someone in all that brush and never see them.  I decided not
to join the team.

"No thanks, Sheriff.  I have my own methods.  We'll just look
around on our own, if you don't mind."

"I know you do.  Well, if there's anything you need, either
Grogan or I will be right here until everyone has checked back
in.  Please let me know if you will be out after the rest of the
team is called in."

"No problem," I said and Neeka and I started to walk away.

When we had gone far enough for anyone whose hearing was less
acute than mine to be out of earshot, Ledbetter said, "Bob, you
mean you're going to let those two run around out here after
dark?  What about that speech you just gave everyone else?"

"Phil, you just shook hands with the scariest thing in these
woods, day or night.  If she'd wanted to, she could have broken
your arm, your leg, and ruptured a few of your organs before you
hit the ground   I've seen her do it.  I don't know how she plans
to find the missing kids in this mess, but I do believe our
chances of doing so just got measurably better.  Now where are
those Seminole trackers you promised me?"

I smiled as I considered the value of a good reputation.  Trooper
Trammel had apparently taken me at my word and left me out of his
report completely, so Captain Ledbetter was probably getting his
first information on me.  I hoped he would be suitably
impressed.

Neeka and I walked a few yards off until we were out of sight of
the chaos back at the staging area and the command post.  I
wanted some privacy for what I was about to try, since it hadn't
ever been used for real and I'd only done it a couple of times
anyway.

I took off my pack and sat down on it.  I put my hands on my
knees and closed my eyes.  I thought I'd try this without trance
at first to see what I could do.  I listened real hard to the
sounds of the woods.  Then I tried listening with my head, not
just my ears.  I tuned out all the extraneous noise and tried to
focus on 'hearing' anyone in distress.

Almost immediately, I got a signal.  It wasn't very strong, but I
thought that could have been because of distance or because
whoever was giving it off was tired and their fear had mostly
been used up over the time they had been out there.  There seemed
to be other emotions mixed in with it, but I couldn't read it
well enough to tell what the person was feeling.  It was like
hearing a distant shout and not being able to make out the tone
of voice well enough to know if it was a call for help of just
someone calling to someone else.

"They're out there," I said. "It's not very strong.  Maybe we
need to hurry."

I tilted my head and swung it around one way and then the other.

"Seems to be coming from that way," I said, pointing to our
right.  I couldn't say why I thought that, I couldn't judge the
direction very well with such a weak signal, it just seemed to be
coming from the right.

"Lead on, Jungle Jane," Neeka said, hitching up her pack.  We
struck off into the woods at a slow pace with me leading the way.
 We were both glad that the lost campers seemed to be alive.

It might have been smarter to have gone back and told Sheriff
Foster what we knew, but this ability was something I still
wasn't ready to trust completely and neither was I ready to try
to explain it.  Regardless of my rep with the Sheriff, walking
off for two minutes and then coming back and saying, "Yeah,
they're alive, scared, and over yonder somewhere" would have
strained it.  So into the woods we went, pausing every few yards
to recheck my shaky bearings.  A side-benefit of this was that we
got a good look at the lay of the land, and we had no worries
about finding our way back.

After walking for a half-hour into the brush and detouring around
a couple of marshy areas, we came to some higher ground that was
a few feet above the rest of the area.  The slope was relatively
steep for the area, and would put us in an exposed position when
we climbed it.  On top of the rise was a cluster of trees that
looked like they would provide good shade and privacy for a
couple of horny kids if they wanted to get far enough away from
the main group to discourage any of their friends from hassling
them and close enough so they should have been able to find their
way back in the morning.  But they hadn't found their way back,
and from current evidence, they hadn't left their little nest.

I was convinced from the strength of the feeling I was getting
that the kids were in among the trees, only about thirty yards
away.  The question was, why didn't they go back to the main
camp.  We needed to know the answer before we went up that rise.

I stopped and squatted behind the closest bush.  Neeka followed
my lead.  I used my ears to listen instead of my mind.  There was
a faint murmur of a human voice, drifting in and out in the
slight breeze, but it was low-pitched and I couldn't make it out.
 I didn't think it belonged to one of the kids, but I couldn't be
sure.

The only way we were going to find out what was going on was to
get closer, so we crept out of the bushes slowly, keeping low as
we snuck up the low slope.  Every few feet I paused to listen,
but the sounds remained faint until I got far enough up the rise
to see over the top.

At first we didn't see anything.  The trees were in the way, so
we moved further along the bank, keeping low in the weeds and
trying not to make any noise.  About twenty feet along, we had a
clear view into the group of trees and the voice   and the
situation became clear.

Three people, not two, were on the far side of a small clearing
littered with clothes and a torn-up sleeping bag.  Two of them
were gagged and tied with their backs to the trunks of a couple
of trees.  A boy and a girl who looked like they must be the lost
hikers had their arms pulled behind them and tied in what looked
like a painful position around the trunks of two of the biggest
trees.  They were completely naked and looked scared.  Tears had
made streaks down both their faces, but neither was crying at the
moment.  I noticed that the boy was sporting a lovely big
erection that was rigid enough to make his cock stand up in a
curve and point to the sky.  It glistened like he had cum and the
cum had run down the underside of his cock.  It seemed odd to me
at the time, but I wrote it off as a case of him just having an
odd reaction to the stress of the situation.  I was admiring the
way it wobbled stiffly as his hips moved when someone else moved
across my line of sight and drew my attention away.  

The third person was naked, too.  It wasn't as obvious as it was
for the two pale captives because he was filthy dirty and tanned
a dark brown all over his body, even the parts covered with
coarse body hair.  His head was a mass of tangled curls that
draped shaggily over his shoulders like a lion's mane.  It was so
long that the only way I could be sure it was a 'he' and not a
'she' was the improbably large and obviously erect cock swinging
between his legs as he danced back and forth between the two
teenagers.  In contrast to the boy's almost vertical erection,
this one hung down at an angle and ended in a wide head the size
of my fist.  As soon as I saw it, I felt my pussy quiver and I
squeezed my legs together to try to get it to be still and not
distract me.

"Holy shit!" Neeka said, silently.  "What is that?  It looks like
the pictures in my Mythology textbook of a half-man, half-goat
creature called a Satyr.  Except for the lack of hooves and
horns, that is."

"I have no idea," I said.  "He looks like some kind of feral
nudist.  He's filthy, though.  I think I can smell him from
here."

"What's he saying?  I can't make it out."

"Me neither.  I can hear him fine, now.  I thought I just wasn't
close enough.  But it's not any language I've ever heard.  I
don't think that's speech at all.  I think he's just making
noises like he's talking."

The man might not have been speaking sense, but there was no
mistaking what he had been doing, and was getting ready to do
again, to the girl tied to the tree.  She had long streams of
shiny white goo running down the inside of both legs and her
blonde pubic hair was a matted mess that shone glossily in a
shaft of the yellow light of late-afternoon.  Her feet and knees
were pressed together and her eyes were wild as she shook her
head from side to side, pleading for her animalistic attacker to
spare her another raping with the fleshy club swinging obscenely
from his groin.

As we watched, the man capered like a chimpanzee back to the boy
tied to the other tree and roughly grabbed hold of the boy's hard
cock with one hand, making him squirm and rise up on his toes to
save it from being torn off.  Like a magician, the feral man made
a shiny hunting knife appear in one hand and held it sharp side
up under the terrified boy's testicles, letting his scrotum hang
over the edge of the shiny blade with his balls resting on the
flat side.  His speech might not have been intelligible, but the
message was clear   give in or I castrate your boyfriend.

In a dumb-show that may have been repeated several times that
day, the girl quit shaking her head and hung it in resignation
instead.  She spread her feet slowly apart and braced herself for
another assault.

The feral man gave the boy's cock a hard squeeze, forcing a spurt
of fluid from the tip and making him grunt so loudly that we
could hear him across the clearing despite the gag in his mouth.
Then he strutted back to the girl, holding his much more massive
cock in one hand and the knife in the other.  He bent his knees
slightly to bring the head of his cock down to the girl's pussy
and then shoved it inside her hard enough to lift her feet off
the ground.  For a couple of seconds he held her up, impaled on
his massive cock.  Then he started fucking her brutally, making
her back slam against the tree trunk and her boobs slide up and
down on her chest with each powerful stroke.

Neeka and I slipped quietly down the bank to consider how to deal
with the nightmare situation.

"What the hell?" Neeka said.  "That's been going on all damn day!
 Did you see all the cum on that girl's legs?  He must have
stamina to match the size of that cock.  He'll keep that up until
he kills her.  And she doesn't look too good to me right now."

"I agree," I said.  "I don't see how she's lasted this long if
that's the treatment she's been getting since this morning.  We
don't have time to go for help, we've got to put a stop to this
now."

"OK, the big question is how?  He's got a knife.  It looks new,
so he must have taken it off them.  That means it's probably
sharp.  He may be a wild beast, but he knows how to tie knots,
threaten to get what he wants, and he obviously knows how to use
that knife."

She paused a moment as she shrugged her pack off.  "I could shoot
him," she said.

"Can you hit him and not hit one of them?  Can you be absolutely
sure of that?  Remember that even Grogan wouldn't let his trained
snipers try to take out those thugs in the grocery store because
he couldn't be sure it wouldn't turn out badly for the hostages?
If it were a clear shot   maybe.  But if you miss, or if you just
wound him....  Are you willing to take the chance?"

"No, dammit!  I can't.  Even if I were an expert with this thing,
I couldn't be that sure.  Not with them that close.  We have to
get him away from them."

"Exactly what I was thinking.  And I think I know how.  Something
to distract him.  Something to get him away from the girl   away
from them both.  Have you got a knife?"

"No, but you do.  Those throwing stars have sharp edges.  I
almost cut myself when I packed them.  You had taken them out of
the fanny pack."

"Good.  Then you take a couple of them and work yourself around
behind the boy.  I'll get him away from the girl and while I have
him distracted, you cut them loose and get them down the bank and
around to here.  Hide them in those bushes we just came
through."

Neeka knew the rest of what I planned because she was reading my
mind when I thought of it.  She looked at me like I was crazy. 
Then she looked at me like she was jealous.  Then she helped me
off with my pack and pulled my shoes off while I unbuttoned her
father's shirt.

When I was stark naked, Neeka took two of the stars and started
working around the bottom of the rise so she could sneak up and
free the kids while I kept the man-beast busy.  I gave her enough
time to get into position, then I walked up into the clearing.

As entrances go, it was less than stupendous.  The satyr   and I
think he probably earned the name, if he had really been raping
the girl regularly all day   was completely involved with his
task and unaware of my approach.  He had slowed his pace to a
slow lunge, forcing his obscenely large organ into her as deeply
as it would go over and over and over.  He grunted like a pig
with each stroke, single-mindedly masturbating himself in her
body.

The girl had her eyes shut tight.  At first, I thought it was so
she wouldn't have to watch what was happening to her, but as I
got closer, I could hear her moaning and see that her face wasn't
contorted in pain, but in lust.  She rocked her hips forward in
the same slow tempo as his thrusts.  The repeated rapings had
broken down her resistance and her body was responding to the
animalistic attacks with its own primal instinct.  She was
obviously riding from climax to climax in time with her
assailant's thrusts.  She wasn't rising up on her toes to avoid
being skewered on his cock so much as to get more of it into her
ravaged slit.

I felt a pang of jealousy that she was getting such a great fuck
with such a huge cock.  My own pussy was begging to get in on the
action and I felt the first trickle run down my leg of what I was
sure would be a flood.  My areola crinkled up and my nipples
started to swell.  This made my rings swing out, freeing the
bells to dangle freely and announce my readiness with their
music.  My clit began to throb and push down and out in my own
miniature erection.  The tableau before me made me intensely
horny and I quickly went into full rut and was ready for
anything.

The man and the girl were oblivious to my presence, but the boy
noticed me as soon as I came into view.  I knew because I saw his
eyes lock onto me.  I could also see that his cock was bobbing up
and down obscenely as he unconsciously jerked his hips in
imitation of the thrusts of the man who was raping his girl.  The
business end was shiny from the tautness of the skin across its
purplish knob and from the sticky fluid running down the
underside of his shaft and dripping from his balls.  It looked to
be a good-sized one, but it was puny in comparison with the
fleshy weapon that the satyr was using on the girl.

I held up a hand to warn him to be quiet.  I didn't want him
making the perp turn his way at the wrong moment.  When he nodded
sharply in reply, I walked quietly over to a tree only a few feet
from the one the girl was tied to and leaned up against it.

"Hey, handsome," I said, in my best sultry, satyr-enticing voice.
 "Got enough of that to go around."  I put one hand under a
breast to offer it to him and with the other I started spreading
my pussy-juice around on my labia so I wouldn't be dry anywhere
when he entered me.  What would happen after that, depended on
how long it took Neeka to free the others and how long I wanted
to give them to get away.

His head snapped around so quickly that his mane of dirty curls
flew around and hit him in the face.  He snarled at me, angry
that someone had been able to sneak up on him while he was busy.
He froze with his cock deep in the girl, and she moaned loudly
through the gag, climaxing again from its brutal stimulation.  He
pulled out of her roughly, nearly pulling her pussy inside out in
the process. Then he turned and advanced on me.

As he approached, he seemed to notice that I was a) naked, b)
gorgeous, and c) hot as a fourth of July sparkler.  He looked me
up and down and then he sniffed   no doubt to get a whiff of the
pheromones that I was pouring into the air.  I put my hands
behind me and took a grip on the tree, since that seemed to be
the position he liked - helpless.

He dashed the last few feet that separated us and pressed his
belly against mine, trapping his cock between us and grinding it
against me.  If was so long and I'm so short that it rode up
between my breasts, spreading his precum and her pussy-juice into
my cleavage.  He pushed up with his hips so that the head was
right under my chin.  I had a real close look down his pee-hole
as it oozed more slimy liquid that ran down over his cock, lubing
it up for its journey into my pussy.  The stink of it was rank
and overpoweringly male.  It was strong enough to make my head
swim and came close to covering up his terrible BO.  While I
watched the fluid coat his cock he grabbed one breast roughly in
his left hand and pressed the knife in his right against my
throat, threatening me with decapitation if I didn't yield to
him.

Yielding was what I was there for.  I splayed my legs on either
side of the tree trunk and tried to climb up high enough to put
my pussy even with his incredibly large and hairy balls.  I
pushed my hips out and jerked them sharply, waving my desperately
horny pussy at him.

"Come on, dammit!  Fuck me!" I moaned through grit teeth.  It was
a tie whether I wanted him to get on with it so we could save the
teens or whether I was just desperate to feel that monster cock
driving deep into me.

He finally took the hint and, without using his hands, he pushed
his big spade-shaped cock-head against my opening and shoved. 
There was a second of incredible stretching, then it popped
inside and I had my first climax.

I knew I was hot, but to cum as soon as he got it in me was
really quick.  I remembered that it had been a very long time
since I had had a cock.  Long for me, anyway.  Hours, at least. 
I must have been celibate for as long as his other girl victim
had been getting screwed, the lucky so-and-so.

I had just recovered from having my gong rung when he shoved that
big fucker even deeper into me, forcing the head up behind my
navel and slamming it into my cervix.  That was when I had my
second climax.

"Damn!"  I thought.  "Two for two strokes.  Either I'm horny as
hell or he's a great fuck.  Oh, well.  Mr. Cock is knocking on
the door, I guess I have to open up and let him in."  I tilted my
hips and ground my rapidly dilating cervix onto his cock-knob. 
He got the idea and gave a big shove, working it deep inside my
womb, where the business end of all big cocks belong.  Again I
popped my cork.  This was making me delirious with pleasure.  I
felt another wave of jealously that the girl had been getting
this all day long.

"Oh, shit!  That's a big one you have there!  I bet you could
make a mare cum with that.  Now show me what you're made of! 
Fuck me!"

I didn't think he understood me, but he understood what I wanted
and he proceeded to give it to me.  He jammed his cock deeper and
deeper inside me, until I felt it simultaneously bottom out at
the top of my uterus and his heavy balls slam into my butt.  That
was climax number four and no end in sight.

He pressed tightly against me for a few seconds, no doubt
surprised that he had been able to go balls-deep in my pussy. 
Then he pulled out about six inches and started a leisurely
fucking rhythm.

His idea of a good time coincided with mine exactly.  I pulled my
legs up and wrapped them around his narrow waist until my heels
rested on his ass-cheeks.  I ignored the tree-bark grinding into
my back.  I could heal that anytime.  At the moment, all I wanted
was to have that giant cock sliding up into me as deep as it
would go, over and over again in that slow, measured beat that
would bring me off with almost every fourth stroke.  I quickly
reached a state where my orgasms stopped being individual events,
instead merging into one continuous, rolling cum that broke over
me like waves lapping endlessly on the seashore.

It was in this state of nirvana that I rolled my head to one side
and opened my eyes to a slit to see how Neeka was doing.  Even
though I hadn't given her a signal, she understood that I had
things in hand, or something, and she had the boy free and was
almost carrying, almost dragging, him through the trees and down
the bank.

When I looked at the girl, she wasn't watching her friend get
rescued; she was watching me getting righteously plowed.  She was
leaning against the tree with her hips thrust out, slowly rolling
them around.  Her expression was one of intense lust,
frustration, and anger.  I wanted to stick my tongue out at her,
to tell her that she'd had enough and it was my turn now, but my
ability to hold a thought longer than a few seconds was seriously
compromised by the righteous screwing I was getting.

The man-beast rolled on like a machine, his head thrown back and
his back arched as he surrendered himself completely to the
experience.  He had even dropped the knife at some point, and was
using both hands to knead my breasts and play with my rings.  As
deeply as I was into it, I envied him for being able to give
himself so completely to the moment like that.  As much as I
wanted to do the same, I had to retain a small amount of
situational-awareness so I would be ready to act if he noticed
something funny going on.

The next time I dared to sneak a peek at the girl, Neeka was
pulling her by the hand around to the other side of her tree. 
Still, she watched me and her former stud as long as she could
until she and Neeka vanished through the trees.

As soon as they were out of sight, I was off the clock.  I could
have ended it at any time after he dropped the knife, actually. 
I mean, if I had noticed.  But I was too busy having a nice
relaxing continuous orgasm.  It was one of those things that,
like a dream on the cusp of morning, you know you can stop at any
time, but you are just enjoying way too much to bother.  So I let
it go on and on, thinking that I would stop just any time now,
but somehow never getting around to it.  After all, how often to
you get fucked by a satyr?  His stamina was nothing short of
amazing.  He didn't seem to even be trying to cum, he just was so
lost in the act he kept going and going, like that rabbit in the
battery commercials.

"Hey, any left for me!"

My eyes snapped open and my reverie was rudely interrupted at the
sound of Neeka's voice, coming from the tree where the girl had
been tied.  My satyr snapped to attention, too.  We both looked
at the vision of a gorgeous nude redhead, lounging seductively
against the tree a few feet away.

"Are you nuts?" I thought at her.  She was supposed to be helping
the victims get away, not becoming one herself.

"They are down the bank and in the bushes where you said to hide
them," she answered, wiggling her hips sexily.  "I even had time
to take them their clothes and pick up the knife.  You got him to
drop it, you remember?  So he's disarmed, except for the weapon
that nature gave him.  And I'm tired of you getting all the perks
in this job."

"OK, but remember, you asked for it.  This one is a real animal.
You get him off me and he's yours for as long as you can stand
it."

"Deal."

She sashayed up to the shaggy man-beast and rubbed herself
against his stinky hide.  She wrinkled her nose, but kept smiling
sweetly as she tugged at her nipples to make them stand up for
him.

He looked dumbfounded to have two girls who both wanted him at
the same time.  Like the proverbial donkey between two piles of
hay, he swung his head back and forth, back and forth, trying to
make up his mind.  All the while his hips kept moving under mine
and his enormous cock stayed rock-hard.

Finally, the new girl won him over and he stopped fucking me and
pulled his great pole out into the evening air.  The sun was
almost touching the horizon and the light made his cock gleam
orange with the sheen of my juice.

Neeka quickly took matters in hand, stroking his cock and edging
the head of it in her direction.

He watched, fascinated, as she practically climbed up his torso
to plant her pussy on his pole.  As she lowered herself onto it,
I held it in place for her, and caressed his balls for him, too.

The guy never twigged to the fact that the tables had been turned
and now he was the one being raped.  He just obligingly switched
pussies and proceeded to give Neeka the same thorough fucking he
had given me.  She loved it every bit as much as I had, even if
she couldn't equal my performance by taking his big cock all the
way to his hairy balls.

I helped for a bit, and watched for a bit more after it was clear
that my help was more distraction than assistance.  He got right
back into it, and she looked to be having just a good a time as I
had.

She didn't have my endurance, though.  After several big orgasms,
which I co-enjoyed as my rightful reward for standing watch while
she fucked the perp, she looked to be running out of steam, just
as the satyr looked to be reaching his peak.

Neeka's eyes rolled like loose marbles in her head as he pounded
faster and faster into her pussy.  She screamed like a train
whistle as he increased his speed to an inhuman tempo.  Just when
I thought I was going to have to step in and stop things before
she got hurt, he froze with his balls pulled up tight against his
groin.

Neeka had her biggest climax of the night at the instant when he
flooded her with his cum.  It almost knocked me down, it was so
strong, and I had to brace against the tree to stay on my feet. 
Fortunately, it seemed to take as much out of the satyr as it did
out of us.  He slumped and slowly dropped to his knees, his cock
dragging Neeka to the ground with him.

I gave them both a minute, to let Neeka recover and to give his
big cock time to shrink enough to come out without any trouble. 
By the time it fell free, Neeka was able to stand.

The beast wasn't as perky as we were.  After fucking one girl all
day, then two more horny bitches after that, he was pretty wrung
out.  He stayed on his knees, his mouth open, drooling happily.

"I think we won that one," I said.  "Now what do we do with
him?"

Neeka went and got the tent-ropes that he had used to tie the
campers.  She had just looped one around one of his wrists when
he decided he wasn't going to cooperate and grabbed her arm
roughly.

Without thinking, I swung an open-palm strike at his jaw.  The
crack and snap was painful to hear.  He collapsed to the ground
like a puppet with its strings cut.  Neeka leaned down to check
his pulse, and I had a moment of suspense in which I wondered if
I had hit him too hard.

Luckily for him, he was a sturdy satyr.  Even before Neeka
confirmed it, I could see the grass moving in front of his lips,
showing that he was still among the living.

I dragged his limp and smelly body over to a tree and propped him
up against it while Neeka tied him up the same way he had tied
his two victims.  When we were sure he wasn't going anywhere, we
headed back down the way Neeka had come, threading our way
through the trees in the dim horizontal light.

We had just reached the spot where Neeka had left both our
clothes when she suddenly said, "Uh, oh!" and took a few hopping
steps over next to a bush.  She dropped quickly into a wide squat
and pressed both hands into her tummy below her navel.  I watched
a huge blob of cum pour out of her and make a puddle on the
ground.

"I still can't hold it in like you can," she complained.

"Must be that 'unique physiology' Dr. Bonner was talking about,"
I said smugly.  "But if it's any consolation, you did real good
back there."

"Well, thanks!  I was just glad to be holding up my end for a
change.  It bothered me a lot to have to just sit out there by
the park for hours, wondering if you were going to live through
the ordeal."

"What's this?" I spotted something shiny poking out of a nearby
tree trunk.  It was the knife Neeka had retrieved while goat-man
and I were occupied.  I flipped it over in my hand and, just for
fun, threw it at a thick tree about ten feet away in a long
overhand motion.  I put more into it than I had intended, because
it left my hand with a bright flash of polished steel and flew
like a bullet to bury itself in the target tree with a loud
smack.

Neeka pulled up her pants and hopped over to check out the result
while she yanked her zipper up.  I didn't need to walk over to
see that I had timed the rotation right and the blade had gone in
point-first.  I also could see that the blade was buried clear up
to the handle.  Neeka tried to pull the knife out, but it wasn't
going to budge.

"Leave it," I said.

"Oh, OK.  Let them wonder about it, hunh?"

"Yeah.  Add a little mystery to it.  'Sword in the Stone',
remember?"  I got my pants on and my socks and shoes.  I threw
the big shirt over my shoulders and put my arms into the sleeves.
 I didn't bother with the buttons.  I just tied the tails
together loosely, letting the heavy shirt hang open down my
front.  It was much cooler this way, and I figured the
'incognito' business was over for the night.

When we got back to where Neeka had left the victims, they were
resting on the ground behind the bushes.  They had dressed
themselves in whatever Neeka had found of their clothes that
hadn't been totally torn up.  Aside from the ragged clothes, they
just looked like they had had a hard day hiking and needed to get
home.  They were passing a canteen back and forth; sipping at it
like you are supposed to after you haven't had water for a long
time.  I figured the goat-man probably hadn't been nice enough to
give them water   or feed them, either.  I dug into my pack for a
couple of the energy bars and passed them over.

"Thanks," they both said, ripping into the wrappers with their
teeth.  I thanked Neeka for having the foresight to pack the
snacks, even if she hadn't had this in mind.

"Hi," I said, cheerfully.  I wanted to find out how bad off they
were.  It was still something of a long walk back and if I needed
to carry one of them, I wanted to know it before we got started.
"I'm Sam.  This is Neeka."

"Jeff," the boy said around a mouthful of granola and peanuts. 
"This is Beverly," he added, since his girlfriend remembered her
etiquette and didn't talk with her mouth full.

I didn't recognize Jeff.  He looked to be older than me, but not
by much.  Once I had heard her name, I recognized Beverly Pearce.
 She went to my school.  I'd heard that she was dating a guy from
Parkhurst and Jeff was probably that guy.

"Hi Beverly," I said with some concern.  Jeff hadn't been raped
for hours on end, only scared half to death.  Beverly looked OK,
but she might be so out of it that she might walk into a tree or
twist an ankle while walking back.  I didn't want to rescue
someone only to have their worst injury happen while they were in
my care.

"Hi, Sam," she said when she had swallowed.  "I know you.  You're
a Cheerleader."

"Was   I'm afraid.  I had to quit.  More important things came
along."

"More important than Cheerleading?  Gee, I would've done anything
to make the squad."

I chuckled.  A few weeks ago, I might have said the same thing. 
Now, I knew better.  If she had time to think about it, Beverly
might agree.  I said, "How are you feeling?  Are you up to the
walk back?"

"I guess.  I sure don't want to stay out here another night.  It
isn't safe."

We all laughed a bit at her understatement; although I doubted
there could have been more than one satyr running around in these
woods.

"Ah, did he hurt you?  Are you having any pain?"  I tried to be
tactful about asking her this.  She'd know what 'having pain'
meant.

"I'm OK.  I think.  I'm sure I'm not hemorrhaging, and I don't
think anything's actually busted.  It's just...."  She stopped
and scrunched her face up.  She looked like she might tear up and
bawl any second.  Even though my reaction to her predicament
might have been different, I had a great deal of empathy for her.
 I waited for her to spit out what was bothering her.  She needed
to start thinking about how she wanted to tell the story and what
spin she wanted to put on it

 "It's just that...I'm so ashamed!"  The tears started and we
gave her some time to work it out.  After a few sobs, she went
on, "We slept late and then we fooled around some, chasing each
other around the trees, playing Adam and Eve.  We started getting
hungry a little after noon and we were packing up to head back
when he caught us.  He dragged us over to the trees and tied us
up right away.  I thought it was a prank at first.  Some of the
kids in the group knew we planned to go off by ourselves and we
thought they might try to sneak up on us in the dark, you know? 
That's why we came so far away from the campsite.

"Anyway, when we realized it wasn't a gag, it was too late to
fight back.  He had the knife and he tied us to the trees with
some rope he got from Jeff's pack.  Then he...started touching
me.  Jeff and I had just...you know, and I was still wet.  He
smelled me down there.  Put his nose right up to me.  Then his
cock got big and he...he put it in me."

Beverly stopped at that point.  Her emotions were in turmoil
about what she had experienced.  Guilt, fear, anger, and
humiliation can mess up your head.  She took a gulp of water and
went on.

"He was really rough!  It hurt worse than anything I've ever
felt!  I started to scream, then he pulled it out.  I thought it
was over, then he started again.  It was awful.  That first time,
it was awful."

"But it got better," I said in an understanding tone.  "Didn't
it?"

She looked at me with a strange look in her eyes.  She remembered
how I had saved her, what I had done to get the goat-man away
from her.  It shook her up to think that someone would just walk
up and join in the party like that.  She must have been deep into
rationalizing her behavior as 'I was forced'.

"Yes," she said, a catch in her throat sounded close to a
chuckle.  "It did.  Not the second time.  It was terrible the
second time, too.  But it didn't hurt as much, then.  The third
time, though.  The third time I found myself...helping.  That's
the embarrassing part.  I didn't want to.  I just couldn't stop
myself.  I got turned on.  That damn big cock is three times the
size of Jeff's.  It just filled me up totally.  I never felt
anything like that before and it made me cum so hard I had to
scream.  Sorry, Jeff."

"Mmmpf", Jeff said.  He was drowning his memory of the day's
events in calories.  He was avoiding looking Beverly in the eye
and I think he had already decided that he and Beverly probably
wouldn't be seeing each other after this.  For several reasons.

"There are other things to a man than the size of his cock,
Jeff," I said, trying to reassure him.  It was true, after all. 
And I felt obligated to say it.  Not that I expected Jeff to take
it to heart at the moment.  Jeff was probably going to have
'issues' after this.

"The third time he raped me, I came.  And every time after that.
More than once.  In fact   lots.  It made me so ashamed!  But I
stopped fighting it and I kept having bigger and bigger orgasms.
It was like I was drugged, or something.  I just kept wanting
more.  I still feel like I'm cumming, even now that it's over. 
Does that make me a bad person, Sam?"

It was all I could do to keep a straight face.  If having great
orgasms made you a bad person, I was in deep doo-doo.

"I'm not the best person to ask about that.  I'd say 'no'."

"I'd have to say 'no', too," Neeka added.  "You can be a great
fuck and a rotten person.   And vice-versa."

"But I didn't want to enjoy it!  I was raped.  You're not
supposed to enjoy that."

"Ah.  Well, Beverly, that's something I do know about.  In fact I
had some professional advice on the subject earlier today.  It
seems that as long as you didn't come here planning on being
raped   you didn't, did you?   then you shouldn't worry about
enjoying it.  I didn't come here planning on doing what I did,
either.  It just seemed to be the simplest way to get you two out
of there.  But I won't deny that I enjoyed it."

"Me neither," Neeka added.  "Besides, he raped you.  We raped him
back.  He had his orgasms, we had ours.  Now we go home, and he
goes...wherever they take him.  You won't be seeing him again. 
We promise."

Beverly's eyes got a funny look at that news, but she covered it
quickly.  "I guess Jeff really got the worst of it, then," she
said.  She seemed to have relaxed a bit on finding out that she
was part of the majority.  "He didn't get any."

Jeff was about to say something, but he stopped with his eyes
large as it occurred to him that he might have 'got some' himself
if the goat-man's sexual orientation had been different.  "I got
mine last night," he said. "And this morning.  And I came a
couple of times watching you and the man."  The last part came
out grudgingly.

"How did you feel watching Beverly and the wildman?"

"Scared.  Angry.  Ashamed.  Then she started getting into it and
I got really turned on.  I couldn't help it.  She was seriously
hot to watch.  It was awesome!"

"Thanks," Beverly said, putting a hand on Jeff's arm.  "I think.
I feel better having talked about it.  I'm glad I'm not the only
one who...you know...got off on it.  But I'm still worried about
all that sex with such a big cock.  He really stretched me out! 
Will I ever be able to have sex with a normal-sized guy again?" 
She sounded worried, like she had heard those stories about how
you could be ruined for life if you fucked a guy who was really
hung.  You certainly could, of course.  But not exactly the way
she meant.

"Oh, sure," I said, helping her to her feet.  "If fact, it can be
even better than before, if you do the right exercises."

"Exercises?  How do you exercise your cootchie?"

"I'll tell you all about it on the way," I said, pulling her to
her feet.  "It's getting dark, and we'd better start back."

"I'm for that!" Beverly said, enthusiastically.  "I want to take
a long hot bubble bath to get the smell off me."  She seemed to
be bouncing back very quickly from her ordeal, if that's the
right word for it.



The walk back started off fine.  Neeka took the lead, with Jeff
and Beverly following her and me bringing up the rear to make
sure we didn't lose anyone.  We had been walking for only a few
minutes when Neeka began to slow down and act funny.  She kept
waving her hands and once she almost walked into a tree.

"Neeks?  You OK?" I asked, silently.

"As fine as I can be, stumbling around in the dark.  I think we
waited too late to start back and none of us has a flashlight.  I
checked.  I didn't pack one and they burned theirs out last
night."

"You mean you really can't see?  It's not that dark."

"Can you see?"

"Duh!  Yes."

"Then you get up here and lead the way back!  Because I can't see
shit!"

So Neeka and I swapped position and we closed up so that everyone
behind me could put their hand on the back of the person in front
of them.  We started off again like three blind mice following a
leader.  It was dark, but not that dark.  Even with the trees
blocking out the small sliver of moon and most of the stars, I
could see fairly well.  My color-vision was out, but I had no
trouble seeing the trees, the ground and the landmarks that I had
memorized.  Everyone else acted like they were lost in a
coal-mine at midnight.  After a while, I realized that seeing in
the dark was another ability that I had developed without
noticing.

With me in the lead, the pace picked up.  Except for a little
stumbling by the folks behind me, we made good time and were back
at the command post only about three-quarters of an hour after
sunset.  Most of the searchers had come back at the scheduled
time and gone on home.  Even the media seemed to have packed it
in for the night.  The only people left were Sheriff Foster,
Captain Ledbetter, and Mom; all sitting around on folding camp
stools, waiting for us to find our way back out of the woods.

They all jumped up when we stomped into the clearing.  Apparently
we were the last ones still out and they had been worried that we
would be gone all night.

"Hi, Sheriff.  We found them," I announced, stepping to one side
and waving at the two victims right behind me.

Mom looked relieved, Foster looked happy, and Ledbetter looked
astonished.  The Captain opened his mouth, no doubt to ask how in
hell we had managed what several teams of trained woodsmen hadn't
in several hours of searching.  He closed it again immediately
and set his jaw.  It looked like his earlier experience was
making him think before speaking.

"Well, you two are a sight for sore eyes!" Sheriff Foster said to
Jeff and Beverly in his best folksy manner.

Mom asked me, "Are you all OK?"  The relief in her voice was
clear, and I could tell she wanted to run over and hug me, but
she held back since this was a professional moment for me.

"No permanent injuries on anyone," I said.  "Just some scratches,
and a bit of dirt."

"Yeah," Beverly said.  "I just want a bath   reeeeeal bad!"  The
two victims had decided on the way back that the story they
wanted to tell was that they had gone off hiking by themselves
and gotten lost.  No sneaking off to screw.  No goat-man.  No
rape.  Neeka and I had both assured them that we would support
whatever version they wanted to tell.  As long as we all
downplayed it, the whole incident should blow over quickly in a
few days.  They both realized that mentioning the word 'rape'
would create a media circus and saying that you had been raped by
a wild-man would probably turn into a national sensation even
bigger than Bigfoot.  Neither Jeff nor Beverly wanted to be
interviewed on the morning news shows about their experience and
Beverly especially wanted to avoid becoming a famous rape victim.
 Just thinking of how that would affect her family was enough to
steel her resolve never to mention it again.  It wasn't like she
had been a virgin or anything.  She and Jeff had probably had so
much sex that an examination might just turn up his DNA in
addition to the satyr's.  That would have looked really bad on
the official report.

Jeff was equally reluctant to have the world know that he not
only had failed to protect the honor of his girlfriend, but that
he had also gotten so excited by watching her being repeatedly
raped that he had shot his wad at least twice, and I wanted to
believe that he had cum while watching me as well.  I certainly
hoped my performance had been appreciated, anyway.

So the interview of the victims was over very quickly and Sheriff
Foster packed them into his car so he could drive them home.  As
soon as he had shut the door on them, I pulled him aside.

"That 'we wuz lost' BS isn't the real story, is it?" he asked, as
soon as his back was to the victims.

"No, it isn't," I said.  Foster was nothing if not a good judge
of people.  He had probably picked up on the lack of detail in
their story, the strange condition of their clothes, and the
lingering whiff of sex on them and knew there was something they
weren't saying.  "In the morning, you need to send someone out to
the high ground about a mile south of here.  There is a feral man
out there tied to a tree who needs to be brought in and taken
care of."

"A what?"

"A wild man of the woods.  Someone who went back to nature   all
the way back.  He's been out here quite a while, from the look of
him.  Maybe years."

"We've had some reports of a Bigfoot sort of creature out here,"
he confided.  "I never put any credence in them.  Seems like
every patch of woods this size has its stories like that.  I
always figured that what it was   stories."

"Oh, he's real, all right.  Dangerous, too.  Especially if you
are young and female and happen to sneak off with your boyfriend
to run around in the woods buck-naked."

"Ah!  I see why they don't want this to be a criminal
investigation."

"I knew I could rely on your discretion, Sheriff."

"Oh, I wouldn't want that my name connected to a story like that,
either.  God knows her parents wouldn't want it to get out that
their darling little girl had been treated like that.  She'd
never live it down if she made it to a hundred.  Don't worry. 
I'll handle this.  I'll have a team with those Indian trackers
out here first thing in the morning to collect him.  You say he's
not going anywhere?"

"Not tonight.  I had to hit him.  He needs help.  He never
actually hurt anyone   that I know of.  He just reverted to the
wild and let his baser instinct run away with him."

Foster gave me a funny look.  I realized it was because my
concern for the man didn't jibe with what he thought my
profession was supposed to be.

"OK, you got me.  I'm not the hard-case I pretend to be.  I just
want to help people.  The ones who can be helped   the ones who
aren't really evil.  As for the others...." I flashed him the
latest version of my animated Dragon.  This time, he could see
from my exposed cleavage that my whole body was involved.  He
flinched.

"Jeez!  Warn me next time   please!  You may have a soft side,
but I still wouldn't want to run into you in a dark alley."

"Believe me; if you are in a dark alley and up to no good, it's
not going to be my warm, fuzzy side you will meet.  It's going to
be my cold, scaly side."

"I heard that!"

"Good night, Sheriff."



The ride back into town was a quiet one.  Neeka and I were busy
basking in the satisfaction of a job where everyone came out
unhurt if not completely unscathed, and everyone had a good time.
 Even Beverly was going to look back on it with a degree of fond
nostalgia, especially if she dropped Jeff in favor of some stud
with a horse-cock between his legs.  Now that she had experienced
what a really big cock could do to, and for, you, maybe she would
try to relive the experience under more controlled conditions.

After a few miles, Mom broke the silence.  She asked, "Did both
of you have a good time?"

"Uh, yeah.  I guess," I said.  It seemed a strange question. 
"Why?"

"Because both of you are smiling like you've been screwed blue."

We both laughed at how transparent we were.  Or maybe it was just
that Mom knew us so well.

"OK, we had fun.  Both of us, this time.  This was a rape case
and we got to turn the tables on him.  Although 'rape' is really
not the right word.  It was more a case of nonconsensual sexual
awakening.  The girl went into the woods with her boyfriend for
some sex.  She got it, all right.  In spades.  From a wildman
with a cock that belongs on a stallion.  We had to lure him away
from her or he might have screwed her to death."

"A terrible way to go," Neeka said, giggling.

"You hush.  As I was saying; when I got him off her, you should
have seen the nasty look she gave me.  She was having the time of
her life.  He had almost turned her into an animal with that big
cock.  If she had managed to get loose, I don't think she would
have gone anywhere.  She was hooked and good."

"Yeah, she recovered very quickly, didn't she?" Neeka pointed
out.  "I think we just came in at the wrong time.  I think she
and goat-man were playing a game.  The business of threatening
Jeff to make her submit to him should have come up a lot earlier
in the day.  I bet she even teased poor Jeff about it.  I can
hear it now: 'Oh, please help me, Jeff.  This beast is going to
fuck me with that giant cock if you don't stop him.  God!  That
thing is way too big for me!  He'll stretch my pussy wide open
with that monster.  Oh, please don't let him ruin me.  Don't let
him destroy my poor little pussy, Jeff.  Don't let him put that
huge thing inside me.  I'll be stretched so big that I'll never
be able to feel your cock in me again, Jeff.  It's making me
crazy just looking at his cock.  I won't be able to control
myself if he puts it in me all the way.  I'll go cock-crazy. 
I'll become a slut for big cocks.  Please stop him.  Don't let
him turn me into a slut with his big cock.  Just look at all the
stuff dripping from it, Jeff.  Look at the size of his balls! 
He's going to pump me absolutely full of his cum.  Oh, he'll make
me pregnant.  I know he will.  Oh, please don't let him cum in
me.  Stop him, Jeff.  He can't help but get me pregnant if you
let him cum in my pussy.  I'll probably have triplets.' No wonder
Jeff came all over himself.  She must have put on quite a show."

"Un hunh," I agreed, picking up the story:  "'If you were a real
man, you'd stop him, Jeff.  But he's three times the man you
are.'  Did you notice that she had that figured out exactly to
the inch?  'Oh, his cock is so big!  It feels so good inside me.
OH, he's all the way inside my pussy, Jeff!  He's fucking me with
his big cock.  I'm so hot, Jeff.  I'm burning up!  I can't hold
out much longer.  Please stop him now.  Won't you stop him from
making me his slut?  See how big he's making my hole?  See how
his cock has stretched my poor pussy?  Look at how he has ruined
my tight little pussy.  I'll never be tight for you again, Jeff.
His cock is so big and hard.  It feels so wonderful being fucked
with a big cock.  You never made me feel this good, Jeff.  He's
going to make me cum now.  Stop him before he makes me cum so
hard I'll be a slave to his cock forever!  Oh, he's doing it! 
He's making me cum.  He's turning me into his slut.  I can feel
him cumming in me.  All that hot cum shooting up inside me is
driving me crazy.  Oh!  Oh!  Oh!  It's so gooooood!  I'm cumming
so hard!  It's too late, Jeff.  I'm all his.  I'm going to be his
slut forever.  I'm going to fuck him day and night if he wants. 
He owns my pussy now.'  I would say we should warn Sheriff Foster
that she might try to sneak out of the house tonight and go back
to free her satyr, but I'm sure he's ahead of us on that.  He'll
have a car outside her house all night.  Just to reassure them,
of course."

"Of course," Neeka said. "Now could we hurry up and get back. 
I'm so hot I could melt!"

"Why wait?" I asked, unzipping my jeans.

We dumped the packs and our clothes on the floor and made out all
over Mom's leather seats.  I wasn't paying very close attention,
since my view was blocked by Neeka's legs on either side of my
head, but it seemed that Mom's driving got a lot worse from that
point on.  I suppose driving with one hand while looking in the
rearview mirror half the time will do that.



We got home quicker than I expected.  It was still before nine. 
I think we had all cum at least once on the way.  I know I was
still pretty keyed up and ready for anything.  We had hauled the
packs into the house and I was about to run around looking for
the resident studs to see if I could interest one of them in
helping me reenact the scene in the woods when Mom reminded me
that none of us had eaten supper.

Suddenly, I was in a quandary.  Food or fuck?  The choice was a
tough one, and I'm ashamed to say that the food won out.  Mind
you, if it hadn't been Mom's cooking, it could easily have gone
the other way.  As it was, supper was reheated leftovers from the
fridge.  It was still better than I could have done without a
reservation at a fancy restaurant.

After we ate, Mom reminded me that it was a school night and
Neeka and I reluctantly separated to go do our homework.  She
went home and I went downstairs to my usual place in the family
room.

I was still there at bedtime.  I had gotten wrapped up in a
chapter on the French Revolution by picturing myself as the young
wife of a minor aristocrat who narrowly escaped the guillotine by
borrowing her maid's clothes and passing herself off as a
commoner.  It was quite a challenge to imagine how many ways she
could have been tripped up by behaving like an aristocrat and it
gave me a better understanding of the inequities of the French
class system that were one of the contributing factors of the
July Revolution.  I'm sure that the part about being discovered
by a gang of Republican thugs who raped her repeatedly as a means
of showing their distaste for the Aristocracy never actually
happened.  I jotted down some of my less racy thoughts as
material for a paper on the subject and then I went upstairs to
bed before I rubbed my clit completely raw.





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