ReGenesis, Inc.: A Loose End Tied free porn video

ReGenesis, Inc.: A Loose End Tied By Bill Hart As one of her many household chores, Becky was vacuuming the living room when her mother arrived home from work. She didn't enjoy doing it, but keeping the house clean was one of her responsibilities. On the other hand, she knew her mother, who generally worked the morning shift at the diner, appreciated her helping out. Even with getting up at 3am every workday morning, Phyllis was more or less satisfied with her working arrangements, not that there was much she do about them anyway. She was generally up and gone before the kids were out of bed in the morning, but, even with Becky returning home from school about an hour before she did from work, she was always home for dinner and, afterwards, had plenty of quality time to spend with both her children. And yet, Phyllis was afraid that Becky was missing out on life. Her older brother Richard, away at school across state on a basketball scholarship, was seldom home anymore. And Becky, just sixteen herself, spent more of her _free_ time than Phyllis liked either keeping the house spotless or watching her eight year old brother Andrew. She loved Andy. She knew they all did. But Phyllis also knew that Andy had been a mistake in judgment on her part. Even though she'd known it was a bad idea at the time, Phyllis had taken advantage of one her ex-husband's drunken bouts and successfully managed to get pregnant. Andy had been her final attempt to save their failing marriage. After his birth, Andy _had_ actually brought them closer together. But only for a while. Quite surprisingly, his father had become even more responsible after his birth. But even little Andy couldn't save something that appeared destined to fail. She believed their divorce had finally woken Jerry up. She was very happy, not to mention very relieved, that his new found sense of responsibility had remained intact and surprised that his drinking continued to decline. Without his monetary support, she would have likely gone on welfare. Phyllis knew Jerry would do anything for his children's continued well-being and happiness, because, just like her, Jerry loved their children. Even though she felt, at least partially, responsible for it, Jerry's peculiar behavior over the last couple of months still worried her greatly. "Has the mail come yet, honey?" asked Phyllis. "Not yet, mom." replied Becky. "But it's been late every day this week. I think the post office is using us to break in a new mail carrier again." "When it arrives, would you bring it to me, please? I'm expecting the check with this month's child support payment from your father." Becky frowned at the mention of her father. "How come daddy doesn't come around to visit us anymore, mom?" she asked worriedly with a hint of anger. "I called Dick at school before you got home and he told me he hasn't heard a word from daddy in several months. Andy and I also had a long talk about daddy this morning before we went to school. I couldn't answer his questions, mom. I didn't know what to tell him." she told her mother. "Is daddy mad at us for some reason?" "No, that's not it. At least, he's _not_ mad at you." sighed Phyllis. Hoping she and Jerry would have patched up their differences long before it became an issue, Phyllis had hoped never to tell them what had occurred between her and their father that last night he was there. But there seemed no other way now. "However, I guess he must probably be still very upset at me." Becky gave her mother a questioning look. Remembering Jerry storming angrily out of the house made Phyllis cringe. "But it's not like your father to vent his anger and frustration at me on you and your brothers. I'm really worried about him, Becky. It's not like him to just up and vanish the way he has nor be gone this long without letting us know where he is." "I know mom. I'm really worried about daddy too." replied Becky. "And so are Dick and Andy. Dick didn't come right out and tell me anything like that when I spoke to him earlier - you know how boys are. But he didn't have to tell me, I could tell." "I only wish I'd listened to him and been more understanding that night. He stopped by to tell me he was out of work and would have to miss his support payment for, at most, the next couple of months. He said he needed some time to get back on his feet again." "You know, daddy wouldn't have told you that unless he was _really_ hurting, mom." said Becky. "I know, honey." replied Phyllis. "But even though I also knew it then, for some strange reason I still can't explain to myself, I just didn't want to listen to anything he was telling me. I knew he was out work _and_ struggling to make ends meet. But I remember hearing from someone, but I strangely no longer seem to recall exactly whom, that your father actually had the money stashed away, but just didn't want to be bothered continuing to pay for your support anymore." Becky looked at her mother in shock. "Daddy wouldn't have never done that to Andy and me. And you know, even though he doesn't have to anymore, he still send Dick extra money whenever he can." "Don't you think I know that, as well? I also knew that night too." replied Phyllis disconsolately. "But for some reason, why I really don't know, I was angry and terribly hard on him that last night he was here. I've never seen him as angry as when he left here that night, not that I can blame him. I worried about him all night. I called him in the morning and again after lunch the next day, but both times I only got his answering machine." Phyllis paused for a moment. "He had told me he had an interview the next morning, but he didn't say where it was or with whom. I just assumed he must have got the job and an advance on his salary, because, right on schedule and to my surprise, his support check arrived in the mail. However, I haven't seen your father or heard from him, since he stormed out of here that night." "That doesn't sound like daddy at all." agreed Becky. "I know. And that worries me even more." said Phyllis. "I only wish I knew why I yelled at him like I did. I called him some horrible things. I told him I'd do terrible things to him." She hugged her daughter. "Your father must have left here thinking I was some kind of horrible selfish bitch only interested in money and the material things it brings." Becky stepped back from her mother. "That doesn't sound like you either, mom." Becky hesitated for several seconds, not wanting to ask her next question, but knowing, if for nothing except her own peace of mind, she must. "Had you been drinking at all that day, mom?" Phyllis looked at her daughter askance at the mere suggestion. "Of course not, Becky. You know how I feel about alcohol." "Yes, mom. I know very well." Becky fidgeted back and forth. "But I just had to ask. Did you do anything strange that day?" "I've been through this several times in my mind, but, no matter how hard I try, I can't think of anything I did out of the ordinary." replied Phyllis. "About the only thing I can recall even slightly out of my normal routine was drinking a sample of some new brand of lemonade at the supermarket." Thinking about it, Phyllis made a face of disgust. "But I really doubt I'll ever buy any of it though. It was way too tart and tangy for my taste." A frown crossed her face. "You know something else, Becky? Now that I think about it, it's awfully strange. I can almost remember talking to that woman passing out those free samples, but I just can't recall what it was we talked about. I suppose we must have talked about the tartness of the lemonade. But I can't believe the taste of lemonade could be all that important." The mail dropped through the slot in the door. Becky hurried over and picked the mail up off the floor. Without pausing to look what had been delivered, she handed everything to her mother. Phyllis scanned the mail quickly. It came as no surprise to find the envelope. Just as it had been delivered the past two months, it had arrived right on time. Hoping a letter from Jerry was enclosed, she quickly opened the envelope. But to her disappointment, the envelope, just like the two prior months, contained only the check made out to her and in the exact amount of Jerry's child support payment. She stared at the check, then examined the envelope. As before, it was simply addressed to Mrs. Phyllis Phelder with her address. And in the upper left-hand corner was the odd looking logo of ReGenesis, Inc. Disappointingly, everything about it was exactly the same as the envelopes of the previous two months. What could Jerry be doing for them, wondered Phyllis? And what could be so damn important that it necessitated keeping him completely away from his family? Whatever he was doing, Phyllis was now suddenly certain it couldn't be right. And at that moment, Phyllis decided she needed to go to this ReGenesis, Inc. place that took up so much of Jerry's time. She would find out for herself what they were doing that was so damned important. Embossed below the logo, Phyllis found the return address. She had no idea where Griffen's Egg Road was located... yet. But if that was where this horrid place requiring so much of Jerry's time and attention had their headquarters, then nothing would stop her from finding it. Surely, she thought, if I show up on their doorstep, they will let me talk to Jerry. And even if they won't willingly allow me to speak with him, then there are several legal avenues I can pursue that will force them to let me speak to him. ***** Before embarking on her quest to find Jerry, Phyllis had located Griffen's Egg Road in her new Thomassen Sisters Map Book. However, she had many doubts that she was reading the map correctly, since the company's address appeared to be almost dead center in a vast expanse of undeveloped land on the far side of town. Arriving at the supplied address shortly before noon, Phyllis discovered the land wasn't undeveloped at all. There was _one_ building covering all of the land. Standing before this vast building, easily identified by the same unusual ReGenesis, Inc. logo she'd seen on the envelope, Phyllis was completely amazed and totally awed by its sheer immensity. In her entire life, Phyllis had never seen a building even approaching the size of this one before. It made her wonder what they could be doing inside to require such an enormous building. Incredibly, the building seemed to stretch out forever in every direction, except up, she could see. Nor could she remember ever having seen a building laid out as strangely as this one appeared to be. The only visible windows were in the middle floor of the three stories it stood. And all of them appeared clustered above the sole door she'd seen. She entered through the small door on the ground floor, expecting to find herself in an ill-lit reception area. Instead, she was in an equally tiny room containing only a stairwell leading up to the next floor. After only a moment's hesitation, she decided she must continue. Otherwise, she might never be able to talk to Jerry. However, Phyllis climbed the stairs warily. As she opened the door at top of the stairs, Phyllis looked out onto a surprisingly large and very well lit room with drawn shades. Oddly, there appeared to be absolutely no artificial lighting functioning within the room at all. And yet, remarkably everything still appeared to be evenly lit, which Phyllis thought was quite impossible. Quickly scanning the room, Phyllis spotted what appeared to be a large reception desk. Even though it looked totally unattended at that moment, she decided it was the place to start getting answers to her questions. As she approached the desk, a young woman sitting in a bulky wheelchair came out through the twin doors behind it. Phyllis couldn't help but wonder about the circumstances that had forced such a pretty young woman into the confinement of a chair. And then, something even odder caught her eye. The blanket covering her legs and lower body appeared to be soggy and soaking wet. Seeing Phyllis standing near the desk, the young woman appeared surprised at having a visitor. "May I help you ma'am?" she asked courteously. "My name is Margie. I'm the receptionist for ReGenesis, Inc." she said with pride. "You mean... for this entire building?" asked Phyllis. Margie smiled back at her. "The building is not really as large as it appears to be from the outside. Most of the space inside it is reserved for research. I'd guess there are less than three dozen offices in the entire building. And all of them are pretty much centered on the doors behind me." "Then perhaps you could be so kind as to tell my husband I'm here to see him." "Husband?" asked Margie. "Well. My ex-husband actually." corrected Phyllis. "His name is Jerry Phelder." Margie looked slightly puzzled. The only Jerry she remembered over the last several months _didn't_ work here. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Phelder. I don't recall anyone working here by that name. Are you sure you've come to the correct place?" "I'm positive, Margie." she replied firmly. "For each of the past three months, I've been getting a check from here to cover his child support payments. From that, I just assumed he was working here. Otherwise, why would your company be paying his child support?" Margie frowned, realizing it was _that_ Jerry after all. She was also certain she knew all the answers to her questions, but company policy in these matters had to be followed. "Did you bring the check with you?" she asked. "No. I've already cashed it." replied Phyllis. "But I brought the envelope it was in with me." She fished through her purse and pulled out the envelope, which she handed to Margie. Margie looked at the envelope. From the barcode along its bottom edge, she could tell the check had been paid out of Dr. Sinclair's budget, which more or less confirmed her earlier thoughts about it being _the_ Jerry she remembered. But Margie still found it very difficult to think of one of her bosses as Bob - Dr. Sinclair's first name. "I remember him now, Mrs. Phelder. He came here a couple of months ago. I don't normally remember many of the people who come through here, but, at the time, I thought he was an exceptionally handsome man. And _I_ really wanted him..." Margie suddenly blushed brightly. "Oh..." she stammered. "You're his wife, aren't you. You really must excuse me, Mrs. Phelder. But sometimes my hormones tend to run more than a little rampant and out of control when I'm around good-looking men." She's a very strange girl, thought Phyllis. "Don't worry about it Margie. If you're really that interested in Jerry, then go for it. I've no problem with that." she told the strange girl. "Really, I don't. He's my _ex_-husband. I no longer have any claims on him." Margie, still blushing, smiled. "It's too late now. But you should know that I really wanted him in the worst way." she told Phyllis. "But he entered into his contractual agreement with Dr. Sinclair before I had a chance to act on my desires at all. Afterwards, I was _so_ terribly disappointed that we didn't get a chance to... well, you know." she smiled at Phyllis sheepishly and blushed. Phyllis still thought the girl was more than a little odd. Had Jerry had encouraged her familiarity? Margie just didn't seem to be his type. But for a fleeting moment, Phyllis wondered if she were jealous of Margie. "What kind of agreement did Jerry make with this Dr. Sinclair?" Margie gasped with the realization she'd just made a big mistake saying anything about the contract. "I can't really say." she said nervously. "You must speak to Dr. Sinclair about that. It's company policy." "Can you get this Dr. Sinclair for me?" asked Phyllis. "I'd like to talk to him." "I can try. When I came out and found you, he was in a meeting with Dr. Warners and Dr. Lewiston. But it should be finishing up shortly, if it hasn't already." answered Margie. "Let me check and see if he's now available. Please wait here, Mrs. Phelder." Margie wheeled herself through the double doors, leaving Phyllis alone in the large reception room once more. As soon as Margie had wheeled herself back into the office area behind the doors, she saw the three doctors just exiting from the conference room. "I just don't believe your theories are all that scientifically sound or fundamental, Marlika." said Dr. Sinclair. "But Bob, if you'll just let me have total access to one of the smaller research areas for the next couple of months, then I _know_ I will be able to convince you that my theories are correct." "I'm afraid that I must agree with Bob on this, Marlika." said Dr. Lewiston. "From everything we've translated and understood from those old arcane tomes that were discovered by our field teams, there is no possible type of transformation that can be successfully achieved without the use of magic. And while the absolute quantity of magic required appears to be highly variable by observation, it must still be describable according to some mystic formula we have yet to adequately fathom. But _it_ is magic all the same. From the results of all of our experiments to date, the use of magic, to whatever required varying degrees, seems to be an absolute requirement for any of our transformations." "You know, Marlika." said Dr. Sinclair with a lecherous smile. "I just might reconsider this decision, if you could find it in your heart to put in a good word for me with that gorgeous roommate of yours." "You know, for a chance to be with Lexia for a while, I might even rethink _my_ negative position on your request, as well, Marlika." replied Clark Lewiston. "She's incredible. I don't think I've ever met another woman quite like her." I'll just bet you haven't at that, thought Marlika. With a cryptic smile at them, Marlika knew their typically male reactions to Lexia had completely vindicated her own theories even if neither of her two smug male colleagues ever realized it. Of course, she'd had a few setbacks before her breakthrough success creating Lexia, but those failures had never deterred her from her goal. Marlika had a reputation as someone who would willingly sacrifice others in order to achieve _her_ greater success. She remembered the morning Lexia had come with her to the office. She had wanted to introduce her new roommate to all her colleagues and to also gauge their reactions to one another. To the despair of the few females present, Lexia had openly flirted with every male doctor she'd seen. Watching Bob and Clark stumble and fall all over each other while doing whatever Lexia asked them to do had been a barrel of laughs. She had even imagined poor Kevin screaming madly as he watched the unfolding events of the day through Lexia's eyes, totally unable to do anything about it. "I'll ask her, but you must know I can't guarantee anything." Marlika told them with a sly grin. "As I'm certain you're both well aware, Lexia's very popular with just about every guy in town." Bob and Clark both nodded their agreement and understanding. In actuality, neither of them thought that someone as gorgeous as Lexia could ever be interested in them. But on the other hand, if trying to convince Lexia to date one of them would keep Marlika from pestering them incessantly for her own research area in order to test her totally inane theories for even a short while, then both of them would be very happy. "Where should we go for lunch?" asked Clark after looking at his watch. But when he turned, he was surprised to see Margie sitting there. "What is it, Margie?" he asked their pretty receptionist. "I must speak to Bob." she answered worriedly. "What's wrong, Margie?" asked Bob, sensing a new problem had developed. "There's a Phyllis Phelder waiting in the reception area." replied Margie. "She's been asking questions and looking for her ex-husband." "We have no one named Phelder on our staff." answered Bob. "I assume you told her no one works here by that name?" "Of course I did, Bob. That's company policy." said Margie, sounding a little annoyed. "But she also had a disbursement envelope from finance with your project's bar code on it. And while it's true her ex-husband doesn't _work_ here, nevertheless, _he_ is here, Bob. He is one of the volunteer subjects in _your_ Centaur holding area upstairs. I even remembered him because I felt so disappointed we didn't have a chance for little fun and relaxation together before he signed the contract allowing him to be transformed into a filly." "Ah, yes. Now I remember, too. Jerry Phelder, wasn't it?" He thought for a few minutes. "If I remember correctly, we agreed to make his child support payments for as long as he remained with us." "That's him, Bob." "What does Mrs. Phelder want?" "I'm not exactly certain, doctor." replied Margie. "But my female intuition tells me she wants to talk to Jerry. And it also tells me she isn't going to be satisfied with anything less until she does." "That could pose a big problem." "I told her she'd have to talk to you first, Bob." "That was quick thinking, Margie." Bob turned to Clark and Marlika, who had been intently listening to the conversation. "The two of you will have to go out and have lunch without me today. I'm going to be occupied for a while with a little PR work, it seems." ***** Entering the reception area, Dr. Sinclair greeted Phyllis with a warm smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Phelder. I am Dr. Sinclair, head scientist of one of our major projects, but just about everyone around here simply calls me Bob. I hope you'll allow me to call you Phyllis." Phyllis stared at him suspiciously. "I guess that will be okay. But how did you know my first name? I didn't tell your receptionist." Bob continued to smile. "It was on the check stub and the envelope you handed to Margie. Not only that, it's also a part of Jerry's permanent records here." Phyllis was confused. "But your receptionist told me Jerry didn't work here. Why would you find it necessary to keep permanent records of him on file here, _if_ he's not an employee?" "Margie was completely correct in what she told you earlier. Jerry doesn't actually work here, Phyllis. But we have and maintain his records because he's one of several paid volunteers in one of our many experimental habitats that comprise an integral part of our research work." "How long will he be expected to stay as one of these volunteers?" "Jerry can stay for as long as he wants." replied Dr. Sinclair. "We find it's better for everyone involved if we put no time limits on anyone's stay. He is free to leave whenever he chooses to leave." The doctor's explanation did little to allay her growing suspicions of him or this strange place. "And this _volunteer_ work he's doing for you actually pays him enough to make his entire child support payment each month?" "Of course. And then some. Jerry is a very valuable asset for us. Volunteers like him are very hard to find and, in most cases, even harder to keep. I should have realized earlier his support payments are probably insufficient for the needs of Becky and Andy. Perhaps, we could increase that monthly payment. You should also be told, we've also assumed all of Jerry's other debts and obligations for the entire duration of his stay. As long as Jerry stays with us, you'll continue receiving your monthly child support checks directly from us. And that could easily be a very long time. Jerry seems to be perfectly happy and content where he is now." "But his children miss him terribly." argued Phyllis. "They're beginning to think their father neither loves them nor wants to see them anymore. Can I talk to him for a few minutes, Bob?" Bob frowned. "I'm afraid that's totally against the rules and regulations set down for the people serving in the volunteer habitats, Phyllis. We really can't afford to have any outside contamination." "Why wasn't I informed of any of this before now?" "But you were, Phyllis." smirked the doctor. "You received complete notification of all the rules and regulations Jerry would be subjected to with our first payment of his child support obligation to you immediately after he volunteered. Plain and simply, Phyllis, that's just SOP around this place." "But I never received any such notification. The only thing I've ever received in the mail from this place are the three monthly checks." explained Phyllis. "None of them contained any letter of explanation of any kind. The only reason I even thought the first check had come from Jerry was because it arrived on the due date and in the amount he was supposed to pay." Bob's smirk quickly faded and his expression became one of worry. "I'll have to have _another_ long talk with those people in the finance department. They work in another building across town and if you don't explain things to them just right and in extremely simple terms, they're very likely to mess up some little detail like this from time to time." "Little detail?" exploded Phyllis angrily. "His children think he's totally deserted them because, without a single word of explanation from him, he neither comes to visit them nor take them on _his_ weekends. And now you have the fucking gall to tell me I can't see him to get some real answers from him that I can take back to them in order to try and explain their father's behavior." She stared at the doctor with a steely determined look. "I need to talk to him, Dr. Sinclair." Anger grew in her eyes. "And I mean, right now. And not later." "But the regulations..." "Screw the regulations." "But I can't..." "Very well. If you can't, then I suppose you can't. However, I imagine that I'll just have to go to the police instead." Phyllis smiled. "Let's see." she mused aloud. "How about kidnapping. That should grab the attention of the local police department pretty quick. Don't you think so, Bob?" Bob appeared to be stunned at this new development. "You wouldn't? It would totally ruin everything we've been doing here." "Do you want to dare me on this, _Bob_?" she asked in a tone almost begging him to defy her. Bob shook his head slowly. "Well. I should be able to talk to the board concerning this matter. They might listen. Fortunately for us, there's a regular board meeting scheduled to start in a little over an hour. If I'm lucky, I'll be able to get you a special dispensation to visit Jerry in his assigned habitat. Would that be alright with you?" "It might be." replied Phyllis. "That is, if I get to see him and if he's alright." "But I've already told you, Mrs. Phelder, he's perfectly alright." "I'll believe that when I hear it from him, Dr. Sinclair." said Phyllis coldly. "But I suggest you get your ass in gear and talk quickly to your board. If I hear nothing back from you in an hour and a half, then I'll make you this guarantee, doctor - you will all be answering an awful lot of police questions two hours from now. With only a few minutes remaining in the deadline Phyllis had imposed, Dr. Sinclair had not returned to the reception area. Phyllis turned to Margie. "Your boss hasn't come back yet, Margie. He must not have taken me seriously when I told him I'd go to the police about this." "I don't think that's it, Phyllis. I'm certain he believed you." replied Margie. "Both Bob and Clark are in charge of fairly autonomous projects functioning with a very limited interference from the board. But if either of them says they're going to the board for anything, then you can bet they're going to the board. It's just that some of those old farts on the board don't like to be rushed, especially if it's one of those rare opportunities they get to exercise their authority over Bob or Clark." Phyllis looked down at her watch again. The last remaining second of her deadline had just passed. "Well, Margie." she said calmly. "I gave them their chance to see reason. I'll be back shortly with the police." "Could you just give Bob a few more minutes." pleaded Margie. "I'm sure he'll be here." "I'm sorry." replied Phyllis. "But I've already given him all the time I said I would." She turned away from the reception desk and headed for the stairwell door she knew led down to the first floor. Suddenly, the door behind Margie's desk flew open. A heavily panting, nearly out of breath, and flushed looking Dr. Sinclair sprinted through the opening. He spotted Phyllis nearing the door. "Mrs. Phelder." he gasped sucking for air. "Please, wait." he paused again trying to take more air into his burning lungs. "Please, Phyllis." he panted. "The board has finally given me the approval for you to visit Jerry." Still breathing heavily, he plopped down on the bench beside the reception desk. "What took them so long?" asked Phyllis as she walked back to where Bob sat. "There are a couple of board members that don't like to be forced into doing anything that appears to compromise _their_ rules. And those old farts can be very stubborn at the worst possible times." explained Bob, who was finally breathing normally again. "Had I known how much it would speed things up, I would have reminded them a lot earlier of your _promise_ of going to the authorities if we wouldn't allow you to see him." Bob grinned. "That made them squirm and really shook them off their fat asses." "Then let's go see Jerry." Bob frowned and his worried look returned. "Not quite yet, Phyllis." he replied. "The board decided that you must read and sign a personal non-disclosure agreement _before_ allowing you to see Jerry." Now, Phyllis frowned. "Isn't that a little much? A signed agreement just for being able to talk to my ex for a few minutes." "It's not just that, Phyllis. But, it can be a little difficult to explain." replied Dr. Sinclair. "Just about everyone involved in our projects is paranoid to some extent. This agreement they're requiring you to sign covers anything and everything you may or may not see during your visit. Some of our competitors would love to get their hands on many of the things we're developed here, not to mention those things we've decided not to market. "What could I possibly see of interest to anybody just by talking with Jerry?" complained Phyllis. "You'd be surprised." replied Bob. Margie brought over a large stack of papers that looked several inches thicker than the last novel Phyllis had read. She stared at the tall stack of papers. "You've got to be kidding." "I'm sorry, Phyllis." said Bob. "This is just more SOP stuff, not to mention a lot of CYA crap, although sometimes I think the acronym CBMCFA would be far more appropriate, but also a fairer assessment." Noting his visitor's confused expression, he added, "That is, Cover the Board Members' Collective Fat Asses." Phyllis smiled. "So what does this _book_ of yours cover?" "As I told you earlier, nearly everything and almost anything." he replied quickly. "But for the most part, it's essentially your basic standard non-disclosure agreement along with shitload of insurance coverage both for you and on you while you're visiting the habitat. That covers just about the whole thing." Bob handed the stack of papers to Phyllis. "Once you've read through it completely and signed it, then we can go see Jerry." Phyllis stared at the stack of papers again. "That could take days." "Probably." agreed Dr. Sinclair. "If I had my way, I'd just waive all this legalese nonsense and take your verbal word as sufficient. But I obviously don't make the rules for this kind of a situation. The board requires your signature on this legal document before they'll allow you in to see Jerry." "Maybe I should just sign it and get it over with." replied Phyllis. "I don't believe that would be a very good idea, Phyllis." said Bob with evident concern. "You should always read completely any legal agreement you make with anybody before signing it." "That's true." She stared again at the tall stack of paper again. "But I do want to see Jerry _today_, not sometime next week. Why don't I just sign it? That should keep your board happy. I shouldn't see anything vital, but if I should or I start to step out of bounds on something, then you can tell me. That should keep both of us out of hot water." "I don't know." Bob sounded worried. "But I suppose, if that's what you really want to do," he began to grin, "then it might be alright provided that no one knows, except for the two of us, of course. If you won't tell anyone we're cheating a little bit, then I certainly won't." Phyllis picked up a pen from Margie's desk and quickly signed her name on the highlighted line next to the red "X" on the last sheet of the huge stack of paper. Then she picked up the stack and handed it to Bob, who verified her signature was on the proper line before adding his own as a witness to hers. Having finished with the document, Dr. Sinclair handed the tall stack to Margie. "Will you take care of filing this, Margie?" he asked. "Please make absolutely certain that everything is in order." "Of course, Bob." she winked. "I'll double check everything. I'll make sure that everything needing to be done is done before it's needed." Bob turned to Phyllis. "Okay, Phyllis." he smiled. "Now that you've signed the rest of your life away, the two of us should be going on our way to see Jerry." ***** Bob and Phyllis entered the sparsely populated office areas through the door behind Margie. For all intents and purposes, they were virtually ignored by the remainder of the working staff. Phyllis assumed that being treated as if she didn't exist was just more of the strange standard operating procedures of this equally strange place. But she wondered about all the offices that were apparently vacant. With Phyllis following closely behind, Bob led her to another door situated in what appeared to be just another supporting pillar, near the center of the room. When Bob opened the door, Phyllis plainly saw stairs inside, leading upwards to the third floor. At the top of the oddly placed stairwell, the door opened out onto a long hallway, seemingly stretching out forever in both directions. Dotting its walls at sporadic intervals were several additional doors. Phyllis looked at Bob curiously. "Follow me, Phyllis." he said. Most of the doors along the way to wherever she was being led were closed. With growing curiosity about the possible activities going on behind all of the closed doors, Phyllis quickly peeked through the only open door she'd seen as they'd hurriedly passed. Inside that room, she saw something her mind repeatedly told her couldn't possibly be there. But even as impossible as her mind kept insisting it was, she could have sworn there had been at least a half-dozen naked young girls inside the room. And yet, nude girls was not what her mind rebelled at with disbelief. Their skin coloration was the impossibility. All of them were varying shades of pale _green_. She began wondering what Jerry had gotten himself into. And she also began worrying about what she'd become involved with. Eventually, Bob stopped in front of a closed door. As he put his hand on the knob, he turned to her and asked, "Are you certain you still want to do this, Phyllis?" But he guessed she'd come to far and wasn't ready to give up now. "Positive." she replied, with a hint of uncertainty evident in her voice. Bob opened the door for her. Crossing over the threshold, Phyllis found herself in a small room with a huge Plexiglas partition hung from floor to ceiling. And just as impossible as everything else she'd seen so far, behind the partition stood a vast expanse of lightly wooded acreage. And within the woods? Centaurs? Impossible, thought Phyllis. She looked back at Bob with a troubled expression. "What the hell is this?" she asked. "Those things in there look like the drawings of Centaurs I saw when I was studying classical mythology in school. But there are no such things as Centaurs in real life." Bob grinned from ear to ear. "There are such things now." He observed the lone visible male along with his half-dozen or so females with evident pride. Phyllis looked first at Bob, then with disbelief at the Centaurs, before returning her gaze to Bob. "Why did you bring me here?" she asked angrily. "Especially since you and your board were so damned worried about any possibilities of me seeing something you didn't want me to see." "You wanted to _see_ Jerry?" replied Bob. "Didn't you?" Phyllis was confused. "But what does that..." Suddenly, a light seemed to come on in her mind. "No. You aren't telling me he's actually inside with them. Or are you?" The large male present and one of his attendant females began edging closer to the Plexiglas wall. "Well. Yes, I am." replied Bob. "And no, I'm not. Jerry's not _with_ them, exactly. He's actually become _one_ of them." "You can't be serious." gasped Phyllis. "On the contrary, I'm very serious." Phyllis shook her head. "That's impossible." She noticed the two Centaurs standing near the Plexiglas partition. "Are they watching us?" she asked nervously. "Not at all." replied Bob. "This partition is made of a strong one-way glass. We can see them, but they can't see us." Phyllis looked at the two Centaurs. But she couldn't shake the feeling they were not only watching them, but also listening to their conversation, especially given the way the big stallion appeared to be continually smiling at her. "Where is Jerry?" she asked. "As luck would have it, Jerry is right in front of you." Phyllis looked at the stallion. "But _he_ doesn't look anything like Jerry." "That might be because _he_ isn't Jerry." "What are you talking about. He's the only male here, so he must be Jerry." But suddenly, the blond-haired filly with breasts at least two cup sizes larger than hers grabbed her full attention. She is very definitely female, thought Phyllis. Continuing to stare at the Centaur girl, Phyllis sensed nothing overly familiar about her. Nor had she sensed any real feeling of recognition from the female. And yet, somehow her intuition told her who the filly was. "She can't be Jerry?" she asked, still hoping her intuition proved incorrect. Very strangely, the buxom filly, who should not have known or heard anything Phyllis had said, seemed to bristle at the mere mention of Jerry's name. It was almost as if she didn't like having both herself and Jerry referenced in the same breath. But the large male was quickly there to comfort her. "That's impossible." said Phyllis. Unnoticed by either of them, the stallion looked towards them with a widening grin. "No, it's actually very possible. This is what my current project here is all about. We are taking previously mythological beings and providing them a _real_ life." explained Bob. "Jerry volunteered. Utilizing ancient arcane sorcery long believed forever lost to world, the Jerry you once knew was metamorphosed into the female Centaur you now see before you. Having seem him when he arrived, I'd have to say _she_ seems happier now, then he appeared to be when she was Jerry." "I can't believe this bull." she muttered. "If you can do this kind of stuff, then why not just make him a centaur? Why make him female?" Phyllis stared at the filly. But the sudden realization that the filly Jerry had allegedly become was prettier than her made her frown. "There's a really simple answer to your question, Phyllis." replied Bob. "For some reason, our Centaur herd developed an exceptionally strong harem mentality. We don't really know if that's normal or not, since we can obviously have nothing to guide us. But as a consequence of that harem mindset, we didn't need any more males to insure the success of this project. However, we did need more females. And under the terms of the contract he signed with us, we transformed him into a female centaur." "I can't imagine he was very pleased with that." "He was actually quite pissed at first." replied Dr. Sinclair. "But he adjusted. They _always_ do." Dr. Sinclair's last two statements bothered her. Phyllis realized she had to try to get Jerry away from this place. If she couldn't get him away soon, then she was certain her children would very likely never see their father again. "How long must he stay to fulfill his contractual obligations?" she asked. "As I told you earlier, Jerry is free to stay as long, or as short, as _she_ wants." "Then I insist you to change him back into his _true_ normal self." demanded Phyllis. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Phelder, but _you_ don't have that authority." replied Dr. Sinclair. "In all matters pertaining to the potential reversal of her transformation, _we_ have his complete power of attorney. It was also in the contract he signed." He indicated the filly still standing near the partition. "However, the contract also stipulates that _she_ can revoke that power at any time _she_ wants, that is, _if_ she wants to terminate it. But as I've said, she has become very happy here. And she apparently loves being who she has now become. And in any event, we wouldn't possibly entertain any ideas of changing her back for the next several months, even _if_ she came in and demanded to be changed back." "Why not?" demanded Phyllis. "You just said ..." "It's a medical consideration." interrupted Dr. Sinclair. "The transmutative stresses involved would very likely endanger and are potentially fatal to her developing foal." Phyllis looked shocked. "Developing foal? That means..." She paled and began to hyperventilate. "No, that just can't be. It's an impossibility. There's no way Jerry can be preg..." Phyllis passed out. As her consciousness returned, Phyllis began coughing. "Get that foul smelling crap out of my face." A young redheaded woman, dressed only in a flowing white toga, looked down at Phyllis. She stared at the woman's waist length hair, which was easily the reddest anything Phyllis had ever seen. On noting her patient's awareness of her presence, the young woman smiled at Phyllis warmly. From where she was lying, Phyllis heard the nearby sounds of a small stream or brook. "Where am I?" she asked. "And who are you?" "This place you are in is my home." replied the young woman. "Bob brought you here in order that I might help you regain your strength." The woman smiled again. "I can only imagine that discovering one's husband has, since last he was seen, become a Centaur - and a pregnant female one, at that - must be most traumatic, Phyllis Phelder. For the moment, I am your nurse. My name is Amalthea. Would you perhaps like something to drink? I have fresh goat's milk available." "Goat's milk?" queried Phyllis. "If you have not tasted goat's milk before, you will find it quite delicious." replied Amalthea. "It is my favorite drink. It is good for what ails you, as well as far easier to digest than any cow's milk. Not only does it have but half the cholesterol, it is also much richer in both minerals and vitamins." "I guess I can try some." Amalthea looked away briefly, but when, after only a moment had passed, she turned back to Phyllis, she handed her a crystalline goblet filled to the brim with goat's milk. Not having seen her nurse move even a centimeter away from the spot she'd been standing, Phyllis wondered from where the goblet and its contents had suddenly sprung. "While you drink your milk, I will go and summon Bob to attend us." said Amalthea. "I am most certain you have many questions for which only he has your answers." Unsure of what to expect, Phyllis cautiously sipped at her goat's milk. She found its taste different, but, just as Amalthea had said, quite delicious. "You can bet your goat's ass, I have questions for him." But when she turned to say more, Amalthea had vanished. "This is one hell of a strange place." she mumbled, before taking another sip of her milk. ***** Left alone near the soothing sounds of the babbling stream, Phyllis slowly drank her milk, while contemplating all the strange things she'd seen. Obviously, the people here were trying their very best to confuse her and keep her that way. Regardless of what Bob had told her, she knew that _girl_ she'd seen earlier with the alleged Centaurs couldn't have possibly been Jerry. Who were they trying to kid? There were no such things as arcane sorceries. Centaurs definitely didn't exist. They were playing games with her mind. This whole charade was nothing more than some elaborate mindgame for them. Well, she'd show them they couldn't mess with her and get away with it. As she finished off the last of her milk, Phyllis set the goblet down on a nearby rock. While she watched, it promptly faded from her sight. "Now that's a hell of a trick." she mumbled. "I wonder how they did that." "Magic, of course." replied Dr. Sinclair. "What else could it be?" Phyllis looked up. Without her noticing, the doctor had entered this little glen with the babbling brook accompanied by Amalthea and a short unknown cowled figure wearing long flowing robes. "How are you feeling, Phyllis?" asked the doctor with concern. "I did try to warn you." "What kind of shit are you trying to pull here, Dr. Sinclair?" she asked angrily. Bob, appearing to be almost hurt at her question, replied with a question of his own. "What do you mean, Phyllis?" "I thought you were supposed to take me to _see_ Jerry." "And that's exactly what I did." replied the doctor with a sigh. "Just as you demanded, I took you where she could be found and you did _see_ her." "Can the crap, doctor, that is, if you really are a doctor." Her feelings of anger were growing. "I don't know how you managed to take some girl and make her appear to be a fairly realistic looking centaur female, but I know she must be an obvious fake. Centaurs _do not_ exist, Bob. I know it. And you know it. There is also no such thing as magic, arcane or otherwise. And _that girl_ you took me to see is definitely not Jerry." "Calm down, Phyllis." replied Bob. "The Centaurs you've seen _are_ very real, Phyllis. Of that, I assure you. And regardless of whether or not you believe it, the Centaur filly you saw is, although 'was' might now be the more proper tense, your ex-husband Jerry." "That's bullshit and we both know it." spat Phyllis. "Nobody can change their species. And nobody can change sexes like you'd have me believe." She stared at Dr. Sinclair. "Now, doctor. Will you take me to see Jerry or not?" "But you _have_ seen her." replied Dr. Sinclair. "Damn it. Quit calling him _her_." she swore. "Have it your own way, then. I guess I'll just have to go pay a call on the authorities after all." "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Phyllis." "Are you threatening me now, Dr. Sinclair?" "Of course not, Phyllis. But you signed our non-disclosure agreement. If you'll remember, you asked me to tell you if you were in danger of breaking that agreement you signed without reading it. You're going to the authorities would be considered a definite breach of that agreement." "Will you take me back to the reception area so I can get the hell out of this loony bin?" "Do you still plan on going to the police?" Phyllis grinned ferally at the doctor. "You can bet your sweet ass on that, _Bob_." Bob shook his head. "I'm truly sorry it's had to come to this, Phyllis." he whispered, before turning to Amalthea. "Has she been prepared?" he asked her simply. "As was your request, she has partaken of the requisite nectar." "What the hell are you two talking about?" asked Phyllis, her anger being supplanted with budding fear. "I want to leave to this place. And I want to leave it now." "I'm afraid that's no longer possible, Phyllis." replied Bob sadly. "Your intent to attempt abrogation of _your_ contract now forces us to draft you into our program." "What?" exclaimed Phyllis. "You're crazy." Bob nodded at the silent cowled figure. After gliding smoothly to Phyllis, the small figure calmly spoke three completely unintelligible syllables at a very surprised Phyllis. He then tapped her on each shoulder with a long thin green stick. Surprisingly, each touch of the stick sent electrical impulses rapidly flooding through her body. Oh shit, she thought. They are trying to kill me, she decided after the second jolt. Then the cowled figure gently tapped the stick atop her head. Unlike the other times, she felt no surge of electrical current at its touch. But instead, the darkness quickly overwhelmed her, as she fell into a heap to the ground, her consciousness having once more deserted her. ***** As she slowly drifted back to consciousness, Phyllis didn't know where she was, but she was quite certain she was somewhere other than last place she remembered being. Almost as bad as having no idea where she was, she was apparently lying on her back across an icy cold stone slab, something she hadn't seen in Amalthea's relatively small living space. She slowly opened her eyes, then quickly shut them again. Had she'd really seen what she'd thought she'd just seen? Once again, she opened her slowly eyes. "See. I told you our new guest was awake, Phoebe." giggled a young girl's voice. There was also plenty of girlish giggling all about her. Looking about quickly, she saw at least a half dozen young naked girls surrounding her stony slab resting place. Or at least she thought they were young girls. They looked like young girls. They certainly giggled like teenaged girls. They had firm and full breasts like young women. But were they really young girls? It was a question Phyllis wasn't quite certain how to answer. They might look and act like girls, but all of them had complexions of varying shades of pale green with an almost equal variance in the shadings of their dark green hair. "Hi." giggled another of the girls. "I'm Calypso. Have you come to stay with us?" "I don't think so." replied Phyllis nervously. All the green girls giggled at her response. "Where is Bob?" asked Phyllis cautiously. "What's a Bob?" asked Phoebe. "Is it a man?" she giggled. "He's a doctor." replied Phyllis. "But nobody ever gets sick here." said Telesto. "We never need a doctor here." "That's very true, Telesto." replied another girl. "But it would have been really nice if our new guest here had turned up a man." "It sure would have, Callisto. When they told us all to come to this place and attend to our new guest, I was really excited. I thought they'd finally sent us a new man to play with." "Be still, Leda." said Phoebe. "We don't want to hurt our new guest's feelings." She sighed. "And anyway, it's not her fault she's not a man." "That's okay - really. There was no harm done." replied Phyllis. "Perhaps, you could tell me where Amalthea is?" "We don't need _her_ here either." snapped Calypso. "Wherever _she_ is, she can just stay there." said Sinope. "She's just a stuck up little naiad bitch." added Leda. "And she thinks she's better than us." said Himalia. "Who needs her and her stupid little stream anyway?" asked Telesto. "Our trees are far more important than her stream." added Callisto. Phyllis was confused. "Just where am I?" The girls all giggled. It seemed to be what they did best. "Why you're in _our_ forest, of course." tittered Callisto. "Where else would you be if you're here with us?" asked the smiling Himalia. "We're supposed to look after you for a short time." said Calypso. "Who are you?" asked Phyllis. Once more, the girls erupted into giggles. "You're very silly for a guest." snickered Sinope. "We're Dryads, of course. And these are our trees." All the Dryads twittered. Phyllis was becoming frightened. She knew Dryads were mythological creatures and, as such, shouldn't exist. But, if this wasn't just another elaborate hoax, they very obviously did exist here. From the sounds of them, they were definitely oversexed and not overly bright. _If_, and she still wasn't certain about believing the outlandish story she'd been told, they'd actually managed to somehow transform Jerry into that contented Centaur bitch she'd seen earlier, then just how difficult would it be for them to effect a similar metamorphosis of her, but, instead of a centaur, into one of these mindless little nympho airheads. I've got to find some way out of here before I become one of them, thought Phyllis. She looked over the gaggle of giggling Dryads again. The last thing I would ever want to be is one of those simpering twits. Phyllis started to get up from the stony slab. "You're supposed to stay here." said Calypso. "That's right." agreed Himalia. "You'll get us in a lot of trouble if you leave." "And even worse, they might punish us." said Telesto. "They might not send us any more men for a long, long time." added Leda. "We can't let you leave." said Metis. "But I must see Bob - Dr. Sinclair." "Is this Bob you keep talking about _your_ man?" asked Callisto. "Is this why you want to leave us." She began to pout. "You're not very nice for a guest." said Phoebe, also beginning to pout. "You've got a man hidden away someplace. You don't want to share him with us." she said indignantly. The Dryads stared at her accusingly. "Oh no, that's not it. You don't understand at all." replied Phyllis defensively. "I just need to find him so he can get me out of here. That's all. I'm not interested in him that way at all." As the Nymphs stared at her, disbelief suddenly filled their eyes. Phoebe gasped. "You mean, you're _not_ interested in having a man of _your_ own?" she asked. Phoebe's disbelieving tone of voice worried Phyllis. She wondered what thoughts, if any, were running through their minds. What would the rest of the Dryads do next? "Does that mean _we_ can have him if he shows up?" asked Himalia. "Does it?" tittered Metis. "Please. Please say that it does." Phyllis sighed, knowing she should have anticipated their response. After all, they were sex-crazed Dryads. "Of course, it does. Once he takes me out of this place, then he's all yours. I promise." "Oh goody." sniggered Callisto. "That means we're going to have a man real soon." bubbled Calypso. "We must all get ready for _him_." added Telesto. Hurriedly scurrying about the surrounding area, the Dryads, preening themselves in preparation for the arrival of the _man_, practically ignored Phyllis, which didn't really bother her all that much. Deciding to do some exploring, Phyllis sat up. For the first time, she realized she, like all the Nymphs, had awakened on this stony slab stark naked. She wondered why they had bothered to take her clothes. Did she have to be naked before she could be transformed into one of them. As she moved about, her long hair brushed across her breasts, making her shiver slightly and her nipples stand fully erect. That's strange, she thought. I've never noticed my breasts and nipples being that sensitive before. I'll bet these dumb shits think I'm excited by being in their presence. It's a good thing they're only interested in the male of the species. But that recurring thought continually horrified her. She wondered. What if I really become one of them? With the Dryads paying her scant attention, Phyllis casually swung her legs over the side of the stony slab. Thinking the slab had been higher, she was surprised her feet nearly touched the ground. She decided the small stature of the Dryads had given her a false impression of the true height of the slab. Sitting on the stone slab's edge, a strange and intense sensation of dizziness pervaded her entire being. But almost as quickly as it began, it passed . She wondered what had caused her to feel so odd, but a quick self-examination revealed nothing unusual had happened to her. As far as she could tell, she still looked and felt the same way she had always had. Had she somehow just imagined that peculiar feeling? Phyllis hopped down from the slab. She was relieved that her two hooves were once again firmly on the ground. Hooves? Again? Phyllis stared down at what should have been her feet. Shockingly, each of her legs now ended in a dark colored hoof. And just as oddly, it felt as if she were standing on her toes. What was happening? Her legs began itching incessantly. Not only that, but with no noticeable pain, they also felt like they were being constantly broken, reshaped, and then instantly healed. As she watched, hair not only sprouted on both legs, but quickly lengthened and thickened. She couldn't believe what her eyes were seeing. For all intents and purposes, each of her legs now appeared to be wearing a thick Angora sweater. Her head began to throb. When she lifted her hand to one of the aching spots, she found a small, but swelling, lump. As she touched it, the thin layer of skin covering it peeled back revealing a hardened small bony knob. And within moments, both knobs began growing outward, spiraling slightly, from her forehead. She realized she had grown horns. And with that realization came another. They weren't changing her into another nymphomaniacal Dryad. What are they doing to me, she wondered? Her searching hand also discovered the hair on her head had become much shorter and darker than before. It had become closer in color to the thick, newly grown hair on her legs. She stared in disbelief at one of her hands. It seemed bigger than she remembered. And there were several unsightly calluses on it. There was also a light scattering of the same color hair on the backs of her fingers, as well as a thick covering on the back of her hands. Even her arms had changed. They had become larger and more muscular, definitely stronger and more powerful than before. She felt at her face. Even making allowances for her callused hand, her skin felt rough to her touch. And, very surprisingly, she seemed to grown a modicum of facial hair. It wasn't heavy or thick enough for her to consider calling it a beard, although, she guessed "goatee" would be a more than adequate description. Not only did her ears feel fuzzy to her touch, they also felt longer and more angular, almost pointed, than before. But still, the Dryads continued to ignore her completely. They were far too involved in their preparations for the arrival of _the_ Bob, as they now called him, and whatever they were planning on doing to him to pay any attention to her. And yet, most oddly, their incessant giggling no longer seemed to bother her. It was just something in their nature, she realized. But she also wondered why those same fits of laughter had suddenly become a source for her own arousal. Phyllis also realized that the magical spell cast on her - she had no other description for what was happening to her - was slowly changing her into some strange two-legged goat-like creature. But she still felt somewhat more fortunate than Jerry. Regardless of everything else being done to her, she still had her womanhood. Whatever else was happening, she was relieved she wouldn't be put through the same mental anguish Jerry had endured when he'd been transformed into a pretty female centaur. Why had she thought of Jerry as pretty? Although she was extremely pissed at Dr. Sinclair for putting her through this ordeal, Phyllis was now looking forward to his arrival. As her hand traced the length of one of her new long horns, she decided it would be fun to _explain_ to Bob just how incredibly stupid an idea it was giving sharp horns to someone with a strong desire of doing him great bodily harm. Of course, the Dryads would be very disappointed, after she finished castrating him, but that was definitely not _her_ problem. Phyllis didn't really care about hurting the sex-crazed feelings of some twittering little Dryads. But on the other hand, neither did she want a viable rival in their midst. Rival? Another dizzying feeling swept through her. She felt her trunk thicken, as her hips quickly reformed into a shape Phyllis hadn't had since her pre-adolescent days. Even the odd sensations of growing her new tail didn't bother her as much as she thought it should. She gasped as a peculiar tingling began spreading across her breasts. As she watched in horror, they rapidly deflated as if air were being released from punctured balloons. After several moments, looking just like twin deflated balloons, two badly stretched out of shape flaps of skin flopped across her chest. "I'm going to kill that fucking bastard." swore Phyllis in a breaking voice. But unexpectedly, her twin sagging folds of skin began to fill out again, only totally unlike how they'd been before. In some spots her skin grew taut, while in others it seemed to be reabsorbed into her flesh. Aches and pains spread rapidly across her chest, which, even Phyllis could tell, had soon developed into something much larger, more powerful, and very definitely more masculine in both shape and appearance. Calypso noticed her. And with widening smile of eager anticipation swiftly spreading across her face, Calypso, with obvious intent shining brightly from her eyes, began strolling sexily towards Phyllis. What is wrong with that fool nymph, thought Phyllis. "What do you want?" she asked in a gruff baritone voice, sounding nothing like her own. Calypso, continuing her sexy approach, simply smiled, as if there were no thoughts whatsoever in her head. "You." she said breathily. Given her simple response, Phyllis realized there was actually _one_ thought still _on_ her mind. Although, thought Phyllis with a wry smile, she's bound to be very disappointed when she gets here and finds I'm missing the equipment she seems to most desire. Phyllis continued to stare at the approaching Dryad, wanting to feel pity for someone so obviously ruled by her glands. But instead, she, very oddly, began feeling aroused by Calypso's approach. "Too bad I haven't got what you want little bitch." she mumbled. Frightened by all the strange new thoughts and impulses assaulting her mind, Phyllis was nevertheless becoming increasingly excited by the nymph's approach. "But I'd really love to fuck you and your sisters silly." she muttered. And then, she started walking purposefully towards the Dryad. Suddenly, a wracking pain exploded in her groin, forcing her to double over in extreme agony. Her insides churned as if they'd been tossed into a giant blender making Phyllis wish she were dead. But as the pain relented, she felt better than she had ever felt in her entire life. Phyllis saw the approaching Calypso's eyes go even wilder with her mad desire. She couldn't understand the Dryad's new reaction to her, until, on a sudden impulse, her hand made a quick exploratory survey of her groin. And discovered _it_. And, with each step nearer to the approaching nymph, _it_ was getting bigger. Before Phyllis had a chance to realize what was happening, Calypso was upon her and greedily sucking on a piece of anatomy Phyllis hadn't had just a few short minutes before. With Phyllis' mind constantly swirling madly about in a strange mixture of both confusion and pleasure, Calypso's continued non-stop ministrations added more and more of both. Until suddenly, Phyllis was rocked to the foundations of her immortal soul by an implosion of sexual ecstasy unlike anything _he_ had ever felt before. Calypso, sensing some unexpected change within her partner, stopped and looked up questioningly at him. "Why have you stopped, Dryad?" asked the gruff voice of the Satyr. "We are not done yet." Calypso's smile widened. "Calypso!" wailed Phoebe. "You're not sharing with us." "Are you Bob?" asked Himalia, unable to take her eyes away from the Satyr. "No. I am not Bob." he replied. "My name is Phaunus." His name rang strangely in his ears. And yet, despite the titterings and tee-hees from the assembled Nymphs, as he spoke the name aloud, he knew without doubt it was his own. "Did you see where our other visitor went?" asked Telesto. "We were expecting this Bob pers