Message-ID: <2427eli$9707291913@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/2427.txt>
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Subject: Repost TG: The Adventures of Samantha      (07/14)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.sex.stories.moderated
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <5rlm0h$k68@nienor.in-berlin.de>


Hi.

  One of my favourite stories for which I would like to find an
end. Tigger do you hear me?

  A not so thoughtfull person had messed with the wron women. It is
not exact what you think, but it come close.

  As usual I DIDN'T write this story and haven't any claim on it. If
you have some usefull hints or some good coments, your mail is then
welcome. Flames, you know, they will be piped to /dev/null.

  If you are an author and wish to remain anonymouns or just try to
avoid the replies to your work. I offer you the chance of posting your
stories and collecting the response for you. This offer only stands for
story postings and for nothing else.

Enjoy the story.

Ciao
	Nostrumo

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

_The_Adventures_of_Samantha___________________________________________ 7


"We have been having some fun at your expense, though not intentionally,"
she kept going.

The girls were giggling again, and Tom was paying amused attention to Carol.

"But we all love and respect you too much to let it go on."

"Do you know Sam Gordon?" she continued.

"Well, I've never formally met the guy.  I've seen him around, though," Tom
conceded.

"What did you think of him?" Jane inquired.

"He was something of a braggart," Tom answered.  "He was always chasing new
women, and letting everyone know about his successes.  I guess I didn't
think too much about that, or him, for that matter."

"Well," Carol continued, "I think you had better hear what we have to say."

"I think you'll need to be sitting down for this," she cautioned.

"Samantha, why don't you give Tom your place on the sofa," Susan directed.

"Oh, she doesn't need to do that," Tom hastily injected.  "I'm fine here."

"No," Susan kept on the track, "Sam will move, and maybe you can let her sit
on your lap?"

The girls giggled.

Sam was shocked, but he got up to allow Tom to sit on the sofa.  As he did
so, he took Sam's hand, pulling him down onto one leg.  He circled Sam's
waist with an arm, then turned to listen.

Sam was terribly uncomfortable now.  He had mixed feelings, though.  He was
being humiliated, and showing it by flushing red.  At the same time, he felt
a strange, tingling sensation though his body.  He also felt a dampness in
his panties.

Carol then related the whole story of how Susan had gone to the bar, seduced
Sam, and brought him back here, where Lois had done her medical magic on
him.

Sam was now a brilliant red with embarrassment.

"You're so cute when you blush like that," Tom whispered into Sam's ear.
"You flush all the way down through your bust."

Sam turned even redder.

"We took Sam over to The Game Cock Saturday," Carol continued.  "We didn't
expect to meet you there, though it was a pleasure as always."

"Anyway," she kept on going, "you seemed to like Sam.  So, we just let you
two go on."

"I think we aggravated the situation," admitted Susan, "by inviting you over
to the pool yesterday."

"But Sam's really a woman now, isn't she," Tom inquired, knowing of Gloria's
work.

"Oh," Lois chimed in, "that's for sure.  She's probably more female than any
of the rest of us!"

The girls were giggling at that announcement.

Sam retained his brilliant red coloration, becoming more uncomfortable by
the minute.  If these women kept up like this, everyone in the city would
soon know of his situation.

"I don't see how that's possible," Tom responded instantly.  "I've never had
any problems considering any of you female!"

The group again laughed until the tears rolled.

"Yea," Jane interjected, "you spent so much time in our sorority house
lounge, we thought about pledging you!."

Everyone rolled on the floor with that, except for Sam, trapped on Tom's lap
still.

"We're sorry if we led you on, into something you might not want be involved
in," Carol concluded, contritely, when the laughter died out.

"No problem as far as I can see," Tom replied easily.  "Sam's a girl now.
If you hadn't told me I'd have never known.  Besides, I still like her, no
matter what her history might be."

"Actually," Tom continued, "the real reason I came over tonight was to see
if Sam wanted to go dancing again."

"Oh, I just knew you'd understand," Carol said brightly, as she got up from
her seat and planted a big kiss on Tom's lips.

Gwen spoke, "Tom, you do need to know a few things though."

She'd gotten Tom's attention now.

Sam was in a state of panic waiting for even more revelations.

"Lois checked Sam out today," she continued.  "She's a virgin.  And, she
having her period, so don't plan on doing too much with her right now."

Tom laughed, "Have I ever hurt any of you girls?  Don't you think you can
trust me to be the same way with your creation?"

"Oh, of course we do," said Susan, hastily, "but we thought you needed to
know."

"Well, I DO thank you for that," Tom said.  "But it doesn't make any real
difference.  I still like Samantha."

Tom was squeezing Sam more tightly around the waist now, and smiling
broadly.

"I'd still like to take Sam out tonight," Tom said to the women.

"Is there anything you think I should do special?" he added, after a brief
hesitation.

"Go powder your nose, Sam," Susan ordered.

Sam went into the bedroom, being locked in as he stepped inside.  He
wondered at what insidious plans the group was dreaming up for him.  He had
no doubt at all that he was going out with Tom tonight.

Well, the thought of going out with Tom didn't really seem all that bad.
But, Tom was now in on the secret, and maybe he'd change the way he treated
him.

It wasn't too long before the door opened, and Susan beckoned Sam to join
the group.

"Grab your purse, dear," she said.  "Tom is taking you out."

"It will be good for you to have a real date," Gwen smiled.

"And Tom is sooooo sweet," Jane crooned.

Sam picked up his purse, and took Tom's proffered arm, as they left the
apartment for a night on the town.

"Just get her back by midnight," Susan said at the door.

"Just like college," Tom laughed.
22 Chapter -    First Date


Tom, always the gentleman, held the door to his luxurious Lincoln for Sam to
slide in the front seat.  He closed the door, and got in the driver's side.
After he started the car, he laid his arm lightly across Sam's shoulders,
drawing him closer.

Sam stiffened for a moment as Tom's arm touched him, then he relaxed,
instinctively trusting Tom not to do anything offensive.

As they drove out into traffic, Tom started, "You have an incredible story,
Sam."

"I had planned on taking you over to the Red Rooster for a few drinks and
some dancing," he continued, "but now, I think I might have a better idea."

His arm tightened on Sam's shoulder, but the drive continued in silence.

As they pulled into the parking lot of the small bar, Sam's heart sank.  The
bright neon lights proclaimed this to be, "The Booby Trap," a place noted
for strippers, and which Sam had frequented often.

"Hello, Mr.  Benton," the doorman said, as they entered the club.

"We don't see you bringing lovely ladies to our humble establishment too
often," the doorman continued.

"This one's special, Jake," Tom replied with a chuckle.

The Booby Trap was laid out with an darkened area of tables in the rear, and
a brightly lit stage area in the center.  There were tables around the
stage, and some chairs set right up adjacent to the long walkway that formed
the stage.  Sam hoped they would go to the dark tables, but Tom led him to
the lighted ones nearer the stage.

A waitress came over to their table as they sat down, Tom seating Sam in a
gentlemanly fashion.  As all waitresses in the club, this one was wearing a
full micro-skirt, filled even fuller by yards of stiffened lace fabric under
it, some black mesh stockings, held up by garters in plain sight, and high
heeled pumps.  She was topless.

"Well, hello, Tom," the waitress said, rubbing her hand over Tom's shoulder.
"Long time no see."

"I've been busy, Arlene," Tom explained.

"I can see that," Arlene said, smiling directly at Sam.

"What will you have?" she continued.

"Oh, just a beer for me," Tom said, "and maybe a lady's drink for Samantha."

"Be right back," Arlene said, after writing the order on her book.

Arlene had just placed the drinks before the couple, when the music began,
and two girls danced out onto the stage.  Over the next three songs, they
removed their clothing a bit at a time, until they were completely naked,
except their heels, at the end of the third song.  They danced the fourth
song unclad.  At the end of the fourth number, they collected this discarded
clothing, leaving to backstage two different women replaced them.  The
dancers appeared, now clad simply in transparent panties, through the stage
door moments later.  They began mingling with the crowd as the women now on
stage repeated their earlier dancing.

Normally, Sam would have become excited by the show, but tonight he just did
not feel excited by the women at all.  What he did find more exciting was
Tom's gaze at the women.  He even felt a twinge of jealousy, though he'd
have never pegged it as that.

One of the former dancers came over to the table.

"Hi there, Tom," she cooed, shaking her breasts in his face.

"I'd dance for you, but I see you have company already," the woman said,
looking fiercely at Sam.

"Don't let that stop you," Tom laughed.  "I think she'll get a kick out of
it."

The woman immediately stepped up on one of the chairs, and from there to the
center of their table.  She began to undulate to the music.  Her crotch
seemed to end up in Tom's face quite often during the dance.

Thankfully, Sam thought, she'd only danced one song on the table.  He'd
known Renee before, but she'd never put on that kind of show for him.

Greg stumbled up to the table.  It was early, but Greg was already pretty
well loaded.

"Howdy, Tom," he slurred.

"Oh, I know you!," he continued.

"You were at The Game Cock the other night," as recognized Sam.

"You ought to try your luck," Greg said, looking directly at Sam and
pointing to the stage.  "It's amateur night."

Greg stumbled off into the crowd, as Sam felt Tom's hand squeeze his knee.

Tom leaned over the table and whispered, "Well, Sam.  Want to try your
luck?"

Sam panicked.  Tom could not possibly mean he wanted Sam to do a strip right
here in front of all these horny men, could he?

Tom patted Sam's knee, chuckling, "Oh well, not tonight I guess."

The sense of relief and gratitude Sam felt at being let off the hook was
profound.  Even though he'd seen, and enjoyed, amateur nights at the Booby
Trap on many occasions, he had no desire to participate in one.  In fact, he
felt uncomfortable just being in the place now, quite unlike he'd felt on
his previous visits.

"Let's get out of this place," Tom suggested.  "Unless you'd like to stay
longer?"

Sam smiled his acceptance of the idea, and was even eager to take Tom's arm
as they left the noisy club.

In Tom's car again, with Tom's arm over his shoulders, Sam noticed a couple
of scantily clad hookers walking the street.  He had seen them before, of
course, but never in quite the same light.  He shuddered at the thought of
how they made their living.

"Sam," Tom was saying, "we can revisit some more of your old haunts, if you
want to."

Sam looked up to Tom, saying, "Please, Tom.  I just didn't feel right in
there.  You decide where we should go."

Tom chuckled as he started the car and they drove off into the city.

As they pulled into the front parking lot of the Holiday Inn, Sam fell back
into panic.  He'd been doing that a lot lately, but, with visions of having
Tom taking him up to a room and doing things with him, his fright was more
severe than he'd been subjected to before.  The apprehension deepened as
they entered the hotel lobby, arm in arm.

Sam had forgotten about Grady's, the small, dimly lit bar off the lobby, in
his state of panic.  It was into the bar that Tom led him.  Sam's relief was
evident.

Tom just chuckled.

The waitress that came over to the table Tom had selected was dressed in a
skirt much like the ones worn by the waitresses in the Booby Trap.  The
similarity ended there, however, since she was wearing a matching top, and
dark pantyhose.  Her cleavage was obvious, but that was about the most skin
showing.

Tom ordered for both of them, a mixed drink for himself and a lady's drink
for Sam.

Sam was becoming interested in this lady's drink thing.  In his discomfort,
he had not even tasted the one at the other bar.  As the waitress delivered
the drinks, Sam took a small sip.  It tasted like cherry soda water.

The small combo began playing a slow tune, and Tom took Sam out onto the
small dance floor.

Better prepared than Saturday evening, Sam let his body melt into Tom's as
they began to dance.  The feeling of Sam's breasts against Tom's chest, and
the rhythmic movement of his legs pushing at his skirt caused the remote
tingling sensation all over his body to begin again.

After three songs, the band began to play a faster tune, and Tom led Sam
back to their table.  They talked lightly about trivial things for a while.

"Tom," Sam began hesitatingly, "do you know the girls in the group well?"

Tom looked at Sam for a moment, smiling, and replied, "Sure, Sam.  We go way
back."

"Did you ever," Sam continued shyly, "take any of them to bed?"

Tom chuckled in amusement.  "That is not the kind of question a gentleman
answers," he said.  "If you want to know that, ask the girls."

With that, Tom led Sam back out onto the dance floor, effectively cutting
off further questions.

Sam thought about this reply as they danced.  He also wondered why he had
asked the question in the first place.  He didn't think he was terribly
interested, and recalled that he'd have been happy to have answered such a
question just a few days ago.  He continued pondering until Tom led him back
to the table.

"My gosh," Tom said, looking at his wrist watch.  "Where has the time gone."

"I promised Susan to get you home by midnight, and it's time to leave
already."

Sam wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed as they drove back
to Susan's apartment.

As they got to the door of the apartment, they could hear voices inside.
Obviously, at least some of the group was awaiting their return.

Tom pulled Sam to him, and kissed him gently on the lips.  Unconsciously,
Sam responded, kissing back.

Tom pulled back, sighed, and pressed the door bell.

Susan opened the door, and smiled.

"You always did beat the curfew," she laughed, stepping out of the way so
the couple could enter the room.

Carol, Gwen, Sharon and Jane were in the living room as they entered.

Tom walked over to the sofa, his hand still in Sam's.

"Why don't you get a cup of coffee for Tom and yourself," Susan suggested,
seating herself on one of the chairs.  "There is a pot ready in the usual
place."

Sam went off to the kitchen to get coffee.  He didn't bother with the tray,
as he brought two cups back with him.

He seated himself on the sofa, next to Tom, after placing the cups on the
coffee table.

"Where did you guys go," Jane asked.

Sam reddened as Tom chuckled.

"I thought Sam might have fun at the Booby Trap," Tom began.

The girls began giggling, as much at the mention of the infamous club as at
Sam's deepening blush.

"Samantha didn't seem to want to enter the amateur night," Tom continued.

The girls really began laughing now.

"Why not, Sam?" inquired Susan, still laughing.

Sam was too embarrassed to answer.

Tom took up the slack after a moment of silence, "So we went over to
Grady's."

"Did you have a good time?" Carol asked Sam.

Tom hugged Sam's shoulders, answering for him, "It was a nice night, after
we left the Booby Trap."

Sam smiled in agreement.

Then Tom drained his cup and stood.

"Well, I have to work in the morning," he began, "and I need my rest to keep
up with you girls."

The girls giggles, as he kissed and hugged each of them.

"Show Tom to the door, Sam," Susan instructed.

Sam got up, and let Tom take his hand as they walked to the door.

Tom kissed Sam again, whispering, "I'd really like to do this again."

Tom walked off before Sam could think of anything to say.

Sam closed the door slowly, returning to the sofa.

"Well, you have had a big day today, Sam," Gwen said.  "I think it's about
time for us all to get our beauty sleep."

The girls got up, leaving the apartment with hugs all around, and big kisses
for Sam.

Sam collected the dirty dishes, taking them to the kitchen and washing them
before Susan could tell him to do the duty.  He was learning some of his
responsibilities.

"Good night, Sam, dear," Susan said, as he went into his bedroom.  "Make
sure you take care of your things before you go to bed."

She locked Sam into the bedroom and went to her own.

Sam took his clothes off, washing the panties and stockings.  He went to the
bathroom, and had a bubble bath.

As he lay in the bath, the heat from the water and the soothing feeling of
the bubbles made him feel how tired he really was.  He got up, dried himself
off, and put on his nightie.

He fell asleep almost immediately as he got into the bed.
23 Chapter -    Tuesday Morning


Sam woke peacefully, but fully to the brightness of the room.  For some
reason, he was feeling good this morning.  He knew immediately where he was,
but, for some reason, was not a dejected about his situation as he'd been
for the past few days.

He swung his legs out of the bed, heading for the bathroom to answer the
call of nature.  As he sat on the toilet seat, he noticed something was
different.  Nature would not wait, but he kept trying to put his finger on
the difference while his body was taking care of its need.

He flushed the toilet, then reached down to remove the panties from his
night gown.  It dawned on him then.  There was no maxi-pad in the panties.
He felt the ice cold stabbing of fear and guilt as he realized that Susan
would kill him, or at least give him the final dose, when she saw the mess
that he'd probably left on the bed.

Susan walked into the bathroom just then.  Sam wasn't sure whether she'd
heard the toilet flushing or he'd called here there somehow mentally.

Susan smiled a cheery, "Good Morning, Sam."

Sam tried to answer nonchalantly, but he couldn't control the fear and guilt
in his voice.

Susan looked puzzled for a moment, then she, too, noticed that the pad was
not in place.

"What did you do with the maxi-pad, Sam?" she asked, fearing that he'd
flushed it down the toilet.  She knew that might cause a clogging of the
plumbing.

Sam looked dejected, stammering, "Um, I forgot to put it in last night."

Susan's face contorted in rage, then smoothed, all in an instant of time.
Her glare at Sam could have turned him into stone.  Yet, without a word, she
spun and walked swiftly into the bedroom.

Sam sat fixed to the toilet seat.  The hollow feeling in his stomach was
deepening by the minute.  As he heard the rustle of the bed clothes being
mussed, he just knew that Susan would be returning momentarily, probably
with the hypodermic in her hands, but he sat immobile.

Susan came back to the bathroom, her face calmer now, but there was a
tightness in her voice as she said, "You are one very lucky young lady."

Susan took the tell tale panties from Sam, gave them a quick glance, and
tossed them into the sink.  Her face softened.

Quickly she kissed Sam on the forehead.  Her voice was much more composed,
almost light, as she said, "I only saw a few drops of blood in the panties,
and the bed was clean.  I think your period is over."

"Go on and start to get dressed while I get into something decent," she
continued, going back to her own room.

"And make sure to put a panty liner in your panties," she cautioned from the
other bedroom.

Sam remained frozen on the toilet seat for a moment.  The relief at her
pronouncement washed all through him.  He knew he had just dodged a serious
situation.

As he calmed, he got up and washed out the panties.  He hung his nightie on
the hook, and went into the bedroom.  He knew he might have gotten past this
one problem, but he'd better be on his best behavior for a while.

Sam went to the dresser, where Susan had been pulling clothes for him for
the past few days, and rooted around, looking for underwear.  He found some
of the same style panties he'd been wearing for the past few days, though
lacier, and put them on.  He also found a bra.

Motivated to dress quickly, and thus try to keep Susan from being angered
again, he put the brassier on, and dipped into the drawer again.  He
couldn't find the pantyhose he'd been made to wear at the mall, so he
resignedly picked up the garter belt and put it on.

Sam went back into the bathroom to get the stockings he'd washed last night.
As he reached for them, the coldness in his stomach returned.  Something had
pulled the material on one of the stockings, and there was a long area that
looked like a wide spaced ladder.  He was holding the evidence when Susan
returned.

"Oh, no," she said.  "Your stockings have a run in them."

Her voice was remarkably calm and matter of fact, Sam thought.

Susan went over to the dresser, selecting a cardboard envelope.  She opened
it, and pulled another pair of the sheer stockings from it.

"Go ahead, Sam," she said, "continue dressing while I put on some coffee."

Sam took the stockings, and managed to get them on.  He slapped some
lipstick on his face, and went to the closet to get a dress.  He figured he
might as well get the dress on before he brushed his hair.

As he looked through the clothing hung up in the closet for the first time
since he'd been here, he noticed that all the dresses and skirts seemed to
be about the same length.  The only one really longer was the suit he'd worn
to church on Sunday, and he recalled how short that one was.  He didn't see
a slip in the closet anyhow, and didn't recall seeing one in the dresser
drawer.  Reluctantly, he began to look through the other clothing.

His hand touched something exceptionally soft and silky.  He pulled it out
for a closer look.  It was a dress, in a pattern of pinks and whites causing
it to appear to be covered by big flower petals.  He could see it had
shoulders, and a collar on it, but no sleeves.  It even buttoned down the
front, though he was a little disappointed to see the tiny buttons seemed to
stop just as they got to the fuller area of the bodice.  The skirt was full,
falling from the waist in gentle, unpressed pleats.  Even though the skirt
was much shorter than he would have liked, he decided he liked the dress.
Then, he noticed he could see the shadow of his hand clearly defined through
the dress, even though the hand was all the way on the back side.  He
slipped his other hand inside the front, and saw it clearly, even being able
to see a tinted color version of his hand through the material.  He decided
he didn't like the dress so much any more.  It was soft, though.

Susan returned by this time, and was watching Sam look through the closed.
As the discovery of the dress first lighted up his face, then fell as he
discovered its transparency, she laughed.

"That is a very nice dress, Sam," she said, "but maybe not right for today.
Why don't we save that one for the next time Tom takes you out.  He is sure
to like it."

Sam was doubly embarrassed by the thoughts that Susan had been watching him
check out the dress, and the prospect of going out with Tom dressed in the
sheer thing.

Susan reached into the closed, quickly selecting a blouse and mini-skirt for
him.  She handed them to him, saying, "Try these on today."

Sam took the garments to the bed, where he put them on.

The blouse was a simple peasant style, with puffed sleeves, and a rough lace
embroidered over the front.  It didn't have any buttons, so Sam just slipped
it over his head, discovering that it didn't cover too much of his breasts
either.  The sleeves seemed to pull down on his shoulders, so he adjusted
the elastic holding them to his arms up, and the sleeves seemed to balloon
into a puff by themselves.

The skirt was a straight one, a combination of reddish and pink lines
forming large squares all over the fabric.  As usual, it had the button and
zipper on the waistband.  He pulled it over his head and settling it down on
his waist.  He sighed as he saw the hem just barely covering the tops of his
stockings.

Susan took a long look at him standing there before her, then got a few
things for him.  She gave him the pair of black pumps he'd worn before, and
then circled his waist with a wide, shiny black belt, which she fastened in
the back.  It had a white net flower where the buckle in the front would
have normally been.  She moved the belt a little, until the flower was off
to one side, just about where Sam's now flatter stomach joined the roundness
of his hips.  Susan gave a curt nod of approval and went back to the
kitchen.

Sam now noticed what Susan was wearing for the first time.  He'd been caught
up in his own trouble, he really had not been paying attention.

Susan was wearing a white blouse, that circled high on her neck and had
ruffles all over the front.  It was buttoned up the back, and sheer enough
that her bra displayed its lace very plainly through the fabric as the
fabric strained to clutch her body when she moved.  Her skirt was a charcoal
gray, with just a hint of red stripes running up and down it.  As with her
skirt yesterday, it fell to the middle of her knees.  She had brownish red
pumps on her feet.

Sam recognized that the skirt Susan was wearing was obviously the bottom of
a suit.  He sighed with resignation, knowing he'd be farmed off somewhere
while Susan went to work.

Sam brushed his hair, getting the job done quickly as he remembered to use
very light strokes, and looked at himself in the mirror.  He was not really
displeased with the woman who looked back at him.  In other times, he
thought, he wouldn't mind taking her home.

Like yesterday, they had coffee in the kitchen, which Sam drank without
comment.  He took his calcium and vitamin pills without a protest.  Still
being on good behavior to mitigate the close call after forgetting the pad
last night, he washed the dirty cups without a word from Susan.

Susan had gone back into her room to finish dressing.  She now emerged with
the jacket matching her skirt on, carrying a black shoulder bag and a black
briefcase.  She was obviously ready for work.

"Grab your bag and come on," she said, heading for the door.

Sam got the black shoulder bag from the dresser in his bedroom, and followed
her out of the apartment.

When they got to Susan's car, she got in the driver's seat, and leaned over
to unlock the passenger side.  Sam took the hint, and slid into the front
seat, buckling the seat belt.

"I have to go to work," she explained as she was starting the car, "but Gwen
needs to talk with you.  I'll drop you off at her place on the way."

Sam wondered why Gwen needed to talk to him, but kept his question to
himself.  He was still trying to atone for his earlier problem.
24 Chapter -    Strike Two


They drove through the suburbs, until they came upon a large house situated
in a big landscaped lawn.  As Susan drove into the driveway, Sam figured
that this must be Gwen's house.  He'd never been here before, having taken
her to his apartment the time they'd gone home together.  That thought
brought a flash of a smile to his face, which crashed almost immediately as
he recalled it now seemed like a lifetime ago since that night.

He turned his eyes to the house, estimating it must have cost at least a
quarter million dollars.  That brought up the question of how a nurse could
afford such a big house.  After the revelations about Sharon last night, he
was not about to ask Susan about this though.

They got out of the car and walked up to the door.  Gwen answered the bell
almost immediately.

"We're a little early, I'm afraid," Susan smiled at Gwen, "but I really have
to get to the office."

"No problem, Susan," Gwen replied, returning the smile.  "I was just getting
ready for Sam anyway."

"Thanks, Gwen," Susan said, turning back to her car.

Over her shoulder, Susan said, "Sam, be a good girl for Gwen today."

"Come in, Sam," Gwen said.  "You are looking very pretty this morning."

Sam thanked her for the compliment as they walked into Gwen's living room.

"I need to get a few things," Gwen said.  "Why don't you make yourself
comfortable here.  I'll only be a minute."

Sam looked around the room.  It was a large, airy room.  There was a sofa, a
love seat, and a couple of matching chairs scattered around the room, along
with some end tables in a dark wood.  The furniture was done in a light
beige, matching the carpet.  He also noticed the beige curtains framing the
picture window in the rear of the room.  One wall had an open fireplace,
with all the tools on it, but it was obviously not in use.  The opposite
wall had a book case full of books.

Sam walked over to the book case.  He had never been a big reader before,
but there was something about these books that grabbed his attention.
Perhaps it was the bright colors on the book covers.  He looked over the
selections, recognizing several of the titles from the best seller lists in
the newspaper.  As he examined the books, he noticed that they all seemed to
be done by one author.  He wondered who G. Chambeaux was.  Whoever he was,
he was sure a prolific author.

On impulse, Sam picked one of the books from the shelf.  The title was one
that he knew was on the current best seller list.  As he opened the book, he
almost dropped it on the floor.  There, on the back flap, was a picture of
Gwen staring at him.

"You can take the book with you," Gwen said from behind him.  "I have
several copies."

Sam turned red.

"Now, come over to the sofa.  We need to talk," she continued.

Sam sat on the sofa, while Gwen sat in one of the chairs.  She looked so
natural in this setting, and desirable in her black pants, that looked like
she'd been poured into, and red silk blouse.  The feeling of his nipples
straining against his bra, and a slight feeling of moistness in his groin,
reminded him that he couldn't do much about that desirability now.

"I know you are finding yourself in strange surroundings," Gwen began, "but
there are a lot of things you have to learn.  I'll try to teach you some of
them this morning.  We don't have a lot of time, so pay attention."

Gwen started talking about reproduction, and menstruation, and babies.

Sam lost interest almost immediately.  He didn't want to know about all this
girl stuff.  He certainly had no intention of getting close enough to a man
to get pregnant, even if Gloria's changes had made it possible now.

After a while, Gwen noticed him fidgeting on the sofa, and the distracted
look of boredom on his face.

"Pay attention," she said sternly, "this is important."

"Why are you telling me all this junk," Sam retorted.  "I'm not going to do
anything like that."

"Oh, but you will," Gwen replied, the stern, no nonsense, tone still in her
voice.

"As women," she said, "our bodies are designed to do one thing.  They want
to reproduce.  And they will do everything they can to get us to make a
baby, whether we want to or not."

"Hmmmpf," Sam retorted, sharply, "That's fine for you, but I'm not going to
get within a mile of a man and a bedroom."

"You aren't going to have any choice in the matter," Gwen said.  "Your body
will take care of that.  In fact, you'll probably end up in bed with Tom
before long."

Sam was stunned.  Tom was a nice guy, but the idea of going to bed with him
was ridiculous.  Besides, he remembered, vaguely, something Gloria had said
about getting pregnant making his condition as permanent as the last dose of
the medicine they were holding over his head.  He had no intention
whatsoever of allowing that to happen.

"Now, may I have your attention so we can continue?" Gwen asked.

"I don't need all this bull," Sam said, in anger.  "I am not going to bed
with Tom, or any other man for that matter."

"Besides, what the heck is so special about Tom?" he blurted.  "The whole
lot of you women carry on like he is some kind of Greek god.  He's just a
guy, like thousands of others.  Just like I was, until you girls did this to
me.  You all act like you'd jump in Tom's bed in a heartbeat."

Gwen reddened.  She was getting angry.

"We have known Tom for years now," she said.  "He is a special man, much
more of a man than you ever were.  And he HAS taken me to bed, as well as
the other girls.  And we are DAMNED happy he's around to do it."

She paused for breath, continuing heatedly, "I don't know what he sees in
you.  He's much too good for the likes of you, but he'll probably take you
to bed very soon.  I'm doing this mostly for him.  I don't want to see him
hurt because you can't take care of your own urges."

She stopped suddenly, the tension and anger clearly showing all over her
body.

"Bull!" Sam repeated, clasping his arms roughly around his chest, then
moving them hastily when his breasts got in the way.

-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/>    .../assm/faq.html> /