Sam at the Con

by Samantha K.

Copyright© 2007 by Samantha K.

Science Fiction Sex Story: To wind down from the events of Sam's Caribbean Vacation, Sam goes to the SF/Fantasy Convention in Miami that Mr. Morton invited her and Ace to attend. This is the second sequel to the novel, _Sam_.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/Fa   Teenagers   Consensual   Drunk/Drugged   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Superhero   Furry   Body Modification   .

"Welcome to FLASFOCON", the banner over the door of the hotel said, and I wondered if I was supposed to know what a 'flasfo' was. I pondered that for too long and almost got run over by a bunch of people pushing a luggage cart that they had so overloaded with suitcases, boxes and bags that it took all six of them to get it up the low rise to the door, leaving no one in charge of steering the thing.

I jumped nimbly to one side and it rolled by me like a juggernaut, barely clearing the automatic glass doors as it steamed into the lobby, dragging a garment-bag behind it like the overlong hem of a royal robe. When I got inside, it was still rolling across the polished marble floor, heading for the far side of the spacious and incredibly high atrium, trailed by its hapless team of brakemen. I would have followed its progress to see if they managed to stop the thing before it creamed someone, but I was distracted by the sight of a group of aliens walking past, talking excitedly with a group of elves.

Standing near the door was a blonde girl in a chainmail brassiere, a metal-studded red leather thong and nothing else. Around her was a group of twenty or so guys, some of them obviously businessmen and not part of the Con, flashing away with their cameras to record the moment for posterity — or posteriority, since most of the flashes seemed to be going off when her back was turned. I had to admit, she did have the butt for that costume and she was very obviously delighted at all the attention it was getting.

Perhaps less delighted was the shaggy-haired man wearing an official-looking badge who was trying to convince her to save it for the Costume Contest the following night, or at least to move her little show away from the flow of traffic in and out of the hotel.

I sat my small suitcase down next to an impressively-large tree in a planter the size of a hot-tub and looked around while I waited for the only Convention official in sight to finish throwing a wet blanket on Miss Chainmail. I had my suit and fanny-pack, which I had learned never to be without, plus the clothes, documents and other stuff that Evan Cochran had collected from the hotel where we had been kidnapped and returned to me when we got to Miami. My 'Samantha Draco' ID and credit cards were there and I was sure that, given their presence and the success of the mission, Mr. Solomon wouldn't begrudge me a couple of days of R&R at the government's expense. I even mentioned it to Cochran when he very kindly gave me a ride to the hotel and he assured me that it would not be a problem.

When he dropped me off Cochran gave me a mock-salute and said, "Be seeing you." It seemed casual enough at the time, but as he pulled away, I reflected that his job on the mission had been to keep tabs on us while we tried to entice the kidnappers into adding Neeka and me to their list of victims. My job was over now. Was his?

All around the place, people were setting up tables and booths and setting out leaflets and handing out flyers. The bustle of activity gave the place an air of excitement and expectation of things to come. I felt it seep into me and I smiled for the first time since I left Neeka in the hospital.

 

"You have to go!" she'd said. "Mr. Morton will be soooo disappointed if you don't."

"I know. But I don't want to leave you here."

"Don't worry about me," she said, smoothing out her hospital gown and picking at the short hem. "I'll be fine. The doctors just want to make sure that all those hormones aren't going to rot my teeth or something. Besides, I'll have plenty of company. They aren't going to let any of us out of here until they can convince Mr. Solomon that we are all just fine."

"You may be here for weeks, then. That man will insist on a unanimous verdict from every doctor in this hospital before he lets any of you out. Remember, this is a military hospital. He can make his orders stick around here."

"I doubt it will be that long, Sam. But the Con starts tomorrow and I'm certain none of us is going anywhere before Monday. The pregnant ones will be here even longer, even those who are going ahead with it."

The girls in question were all victims of a megalomaniacal lunatic who had seized control of a small African country, wiped out most of the population, and then decided to repopulate by kidnapping and impregnating young white girls. It was mad, it was insane, it was cruel, it was evil and I had put a stop to it just before the lunatic could get his filthy hands on Neeka.

The aftermath was Neeka and three other girls who had been heavily drugged and pumped so full of hormones that their ovaries were supercharged into churning out a continuous stream of eggs to be fertilized. And they were the lucky ones. Eight others had already been knocked-up. Six could have their pregnancies safely terminated and sent home almost none the worse for wear. Two were so far along and so full of fetuses that they couldn't be helped. They were going to have to go through with it and their families would have to live with the consequences, one way or another.

The one thing all the pregnant girls would carry would be the memory of having been so heavily drugged and conditioned that they willingly gave their bodies to that bastard. I was one of those, but he hadn't been able to make me pregnant. Something had happened. Something that scared me very badly when I thought about what it might mean.

"It's just your ability to control your body," Neeka had consoled me. "You just mentally shut him down. That's all."

But it wasn't. As I understood it, my eggs weren't technically part of my body at that point. In fact, they were just about on their way to being other people entirely. And as for me having done it, at the time, I wanted it to happen more than I had wanted anything in my life. It was the disappointment that my eggs had somehow rejected his sperm that had shocked me back to my senses and put me back in charge of things. It was the resulting fury that drove me to do — what I did.

"You did what you had to," she told me.

But doing what you must sounds very good days later in the cold light of a hospital room. Very rational. Very correct. What I did was done in the greatest moment of fury I had ever experienced. The result was so horrific that grown men hardened to the carnage of battle were revolted by it.

"You need to get your mind off it," she said when she realized that she wasn't going to be able to talk me out of my state of mind. "You need to go to the Con and have fun. Enjoy yourself."

"What about..." I waved my hand through the air as if doing a magic trick and the scales and the claws appeared on command and vanished as quickly with the same crawly feeling that now accompanied the transformation.

"Well, I'm not going to tell you that isn't a significant change. You know it is. The scales also seem to have a more golden and less greenish color to them now."

"Probably because the damn things are real now. As are the claws. When I turn it on I feel — armored."

"You've been thinking from the beginning that your degree of control might extend to the ability to rewrite your DNA. So you knew it was a possibility. It looks like you were right. This may be the first expression of that ability."

It was true that under the stress of the moment, I had tried to visualize something deeper than I had ever tried. In that instant, I had connected with my body at a far more intimate level than ever before and at a time when my deepest desires had been freed and put in charge of the show. Was there something else that had been freed in that moment? Was there some other desire, perhaps a subconscious one; that had been given free rein and had used the opportunity to make its own changes? And given what I had done in the short time after that; was that unbidden desire a dark one?

 

Neeka was right. I needed to get away. I needed to shelve this and come back to it when the emotion wasn't so fresh in my mind and I could think about it logically and coldly. And so here I stood, in the 20-story atrium of a hotel/convention center in Miami, waiting to talk to a man whose responsibilities included keeping the arriving convention-goers from shocking the departing mundane guests and offending the hotel management.

"Excuse me!" I called as he began to walk away from the crowd.

"Yes?" he said, tiredly. "Can I help you?"

"Hi. I hope so. I think I'm supposed to be the guest of honor."

He looked down at me and smiled a slightly amused but mostly condescending smile at the small girl who claimed to be someone she obviously was not.

"Well, the GoHs this weekend were going to be The Dragon and Ace, but we haven't heard from either of them. Which one are you?"

The temptation was delicious. I looked around at the milling crowd of mixed convention folks and regular guests and figured if a girl in a thong put a burr up his butt then I might not endear myself to him by doing my quick-change as a way of proving my identity.

"Ace won't be able to come, I'm afraid. She's indisposed for a few days. Nothing serious, but she sends her regrets. I'm Samantha Draco. I'm The Dragon."

"Ronald Fortson. I'm the Chairman of the organizing committee of the Florida Science Fiction Organization."

"Ah, FLASFO!" I said. "I wondered about that."

"You've never been to one of our Cons before?"

"I've never been to any Con before. This will be my first."

"Well, we're delighted to have you at ours! Ah, forgive me if this seems rude, but we've never talked directly and I only learned you would be coming when a friend told me. And it has been known to happen that competing Cons occasionally play tricks on each other. So if there is any way you can..."

"Sylvester Felix Morton," I said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Welcome to FlasfoCon, Miss Draco! There are no better credentials than that. I knew SF for five years before he told me his first name. You must be a very close friend indeed."

"I am pleased to think so. And call me Sam."

"Well, let's get you checked in, Sam."

Ronald got the keycard from the front desk and escorted me to my room, which turned out to be a suite on the 20th floor. A very luxurious suite, with a magnificent skyline view and an equally impressive one of the high atrium, and all for little-old-me. I felt a pang of regret that Neeka was stuck in a small hospital room while I was on top of the world in the Oceanic Suite.

"All the rooms on the top three floors are in a security area. You will need your key to tell the elevator to take you to your floor. Only guests of the Con have rooms up here, so you won't have to worry about being pestered at all hours by fans pounding on your door. Here is a list of events. We've scheduled you for a panel in the main ballroom on Saturday afternoon at 4pm. That will run for about 90 minutes, or as long as you care to hold court. Of course, you may participate in any of the other activities if you like — attend other panels, enter the costume contest or talent contest. Some guests, especially the artists and writers, like to rub elbows with the convention members; but that's usually because they are trying to boost their sales with a little direct marketing. I wouldn't think you'd be in that category, but then, we've never had a real Superhero before..."

"Superheroine."

"I stand gratefully corrected. A real Superheroine until now, so I'm not sure how to treat you."

"I'd like to be just another girl at the Con, if you don't mind. At least until the panel tomorrow, when I guess my cover will be blown."

"You want to be incognito? Of course! I understand. Well, here is your Guest of Honor badge," he said, handing it over. "This will admit you anywhere."

The badge didn't have my name on it, only a grainy copy of the picture of me standing on top of the tank. Apparently that was an image that would never die.

Ronald pulled a fistful of short plastic straps out of his pocket as he explained the system.

"We pride ourselves on being a family-friendly Con. Because some things may be inappropriate for children, we issue different memberships — Regular, which gets a blue wrist band, Junior which gets a yellow one, and Cadet, which is red. Cadet is kids up to 12, Junior is 13 to 17, and Regular is 18 and up. The art exhibit is closed to Cadets because some of the amateur work tends to be risqué. Some of the panels are Junior and Regular-only because of the subjects. Here is a blue one if you choose not to wear your badge. You know, I think that's a great idea. The people you meet in your Secret Identity will have a story to tell when they find out who you really are."

"Actually, I just want to be normal for a while. I've heard there are parties at these things?"

"Ah, yes. Well, we've tried hard to lose our reputation as a 'party con', but there are always going to be those members who come just so they can get a little wild. Some of the guests do too."

"Nothing wrong with getting a little wild," I laughed. "I've done some of it myself on occasion."

I didn't want to say that I had spent a few weeks learning to drink and being a 'professional party animal' and that I had so much fun doing it that it was going to be a hard thing to quit. I also thought getting back to that might help me forget what had happened later on.

"Then you will fit right in here, Sam. Now, I have to go, but if there is anything you need or any questions you have, anyone wearing an Official's badge like mine can help you."

Ronald left and after unpacking and exploring the suite, I had a long soak in the big whirlpool tub before getting dressed to go eat lunch.

 

The hotel had a restaurant on a balcony at the far end of the atrium, just a couple of levels above the ground floor. I asked for a table next to the railing so I could look over and people-watch while I ate. It was a fascinating sight. As more people checked in, the crowd grew. At least a third of them already wore some kind of costume. It seemed that a lot of those who came to these things did so 'in character' for the whole time and that I could look forward to spending a couple of days rubbing elbows with some true fanatics.

As soon as I realized this, the irony hit me and I almost choked on a French-fry. Here were so many people who were intensely interested in being aliens, elves, wizards, fairies, vampires, comic superheros, warlocks, robots, characters from movies and TV, and many, many others that I had no idea at all who or even what they were supposed to be; and here I was, the real thing, trying to pass for 'normal' in the middle of all this. I think I felt better about myself at that point than I had in weeks.

"Neeka was right," I told myself. "This is going to do me a world of good. Given the chance, most of these people would trade places with me in a heartbeat. Morton was right, too. This is the best place in the world for me to be. I can really relax here and for once, not worry about being one of 'them'. Everybody here is in love with the idea that 'them' might exist. They're all gonna be crazy about me!"

That gave me such a warm feeling that I had to blot my teary eyes with my napkin so I could see clearly again and keep watching the steady flow of people coming through the door and lining up at the front desk to check in. I was still blinking away the tears when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a cloaked, hooded figure come through the front door.

It wasn't the cloak that attracted my attention, there were plenty of those with all kinds of costumes, both with and without hoods; it was the way it glided across the floor. Whoever it was, was either riding something or was the most graceful walker I'd ever seen. I watched them get into line and go through the check-in and all I could see was cloak. I watched them turn and walk away toward the elevators and just for a second, I thought I saw something flick under the hem where it almost touched the floor in back. I could have sworn it was the tip of a furry tail.

"Oh, I have to check this out!" I said.

I signed the check and wrote my room number so the Con would pay for my lunch. I even added a nice tip. Then I dashed out of the restaurant and around to the elevator lobby where I pushed the Up button and waited. The first car to stop was a group of un-costumed people. The next was a pair of Starfleet officers. The third was my robed figure. I jumped into the elevator, took a look at the lighted button for the 17th floor and turned to the figure.

"You are a cinch to win the costume masquerade," I said.

"What? Oh, this isn't my costume," said a voice from the drooping hood. It was male, with a slightly sibilant sound.

"I know."

"What? What do you know?"

He seemed agitated by my comment and I knew immediately that there was something to be known. I decided to change tactics.

"I'm Samantha," I said, offering a hand. "Call me Sam."

"Jeff Greenberg."

The hand that came out of the sleeve of the robe was black, sleek and furry. It had too few digits and looked for all the world like a paw. I grabbed hold and shook it like Jeff was my long-lost brother.

"That freakss some people out," he said.

"Not me. Not here." I assured him. "You can relax."

"Yess, that'ss what I had hoped," he said, throwing back his hood.

Jeff's face was covered in black and white fur. Only his eyes and thin lips were visible. His ears were pointed and his upper lip had a short cleft that accounted for the lisp. It could have passed for the best cat-costume ever, and that was obviously what Jeff hoped would happen, but I wasn't fooled. I wanted to kiss him right there in the elevator.

"You like my costume?" he asked tentatively, seeing as I was staring at him rather blatantly.

"I don't know," I said. "I haven't seen it yet."

"Unh. You know! Damn. I hoped I could pass. I thought I could get away with it." He seemed very disappointed.

"Jeff, you have no idea how glad I am to meet you," I told him. "No idea at all. Don't worry. If anyone twigs that that isn't a costume, you will just be that much more popular. Trust me. But if you want it to be a costume, then I'll never tell a soul."

Jeff seemed relieved, but he didn't say anything else until we got to his room. I followed him in. I shut the door behind me and waited while he took the robe off and hung it up.

The only thing he wore under the robe was a pair of black silk boxer-shorts. It was the only thing he needed to wear. Every inch of his body was covered in the same black fur with a few random white markings. The shorts had a hole in back so his long tail could poke out. It was a beautiful tail. The way it moved was hypnotic.

Seeing how fascinated I was, Jeff turned slowly so I could appreciate the full effect. I wanted to applaud. I did. I clapped my hands with glee.

"Don't those slippers cramp your toes?" I asked, pointing at the bulging bedroom slippers he wore.

"Yeah," he said, kicking them off. When he did, I saw that his feet were just like his hands — more paw than foot.

"I hoped I could pass this off as a costume," he told me. "But you know it isn't. And you're not freaked?"

"Jeff, you are the answer to a prayer." I didn't care a bit that I might be weirding him out.

"Why? Do you have a thing for cats?" He sounded somewhat hopeful.

I imagined the poor boy must have a tough time getting dates, unless his girlfriend was into bestiality. I wondered what things looked like in those shorts.

"No, Jeff. I have a thing for people who are different. I've been hoping to meet someone like you, but I never thought you'd just walk through the door like that."

"Oh, I'm different. I'm about as different as they come. I'm a mutant. A real one. A freak of nature. A joke. A walking cartoon."

"In this room, you are perfectly normal," I said, taking his hand. "And if anyone gives you any grief, you let me know. I'll straighten them out for you."

"What?"

I had the poor boy baffled. It was time.

"Jeff, did you notice who the guest of honor is at this Con?"

"Yeah! The Dragon. Boy, she's great! I hope I get the chance to meet her."

My smile went clear back to my ears.

"Jeff, old pal. You just did. I'm The Dragon!" And I Changed. The crawly feeling ran all over my body as the scales grew out of my skin and covered me from head to toe. The claws extruded from under my fingernails and took on a blood-mottled look. I wanted Jeff to get the whole picture, so I ripped off my top and sliced off my skirt with my thumb-claw and stood there wearing just scales with my toe-claws digging into the carpet.

Jeff looked like I imagined most people would look when they saw him for the first time — stunned, shocked, and a little queasy. I posed for him so he could get the full effect — scales covering everything, including, I realized for the first time, my blonde hair. Before, that had always been a problem. Now, it disappeared under the scales along with my nipples, the rings and the cleft of my sex.

I hadn't tested anything yet, but I thought it was likely that the Mark II suit was obsolete now. Functional scales should at least be able to stop a knife-blade, and I might even be impervious to small-arms fire.

"Holy shit!" Jeff said, when he got his voice back. "You're... You're..."

Something was about to come out. I waited for it.

"Awesome!"

I changed back and launched myself at Jeff, knocking him back on the bed. I crawled on top of him, my bare skin rubbing against his silky-soft fur, my boobs pressed into his furry chest, and I said, "You're awesome too, my new furry friend."

I kissed him. It felt strange, with the hair and the cleft lip. The stiff hair under his nose tickled. His tongue was thin and rough and he obviously hadn't had any practice at kissing, but I seriously didn't care. I wasn't Unique any more. I wasn't alone.

When I finally let poor Jeff come up for air, his conversational skills still hadn't improved any.

"Wow!" he said.

"Wow? Wow, I'm a good kisser, or Wow there's a naked girl on my chest?" I asked, teasingly.

"Wow, you can stand to be in the room with me, knowing... I'm different."

"You're very different. And what's that tail doing back there?"

Something was tickling my butt, and Jeff had both hands on my back at the moment.

"Sorry. It just seems to have a mind of its own sometimes."

"It that all it does — tickle?"

"No. I can make it do anything I want. It's not like a real cat's tail. It's more like a monkey's, you know — prehensile?"

"Really? Show me."

I leaned back, straddling his legs so he could get that tail up in front of me. He ran it up across my stomach and between my boobs, coiling it around the left one and teasing my nipple with the tip. He flipped my ring up and down and both nipples came to attention.

"You have a very talented tail there, Jeff. Are the rest of your accessories equally versatile?"

I walked my fingers up to the hem of his shorts and started tugging down. Jeff grabbed the waistband and pulled them back up.

"Don't!" he said. "Don't look there. I'm different there too."

"Really? My, my. Now I have to see. Especially if it's something different."

Jeff reluctantly gave in and let me pants him. His balls were big and furry just as I expected. But his cock was encased in a sheath of furry skin and pointed up his abdomen, just like a cat.

"Oooooo, now that is different. Does it - you know - work?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, when it gets hard, it slides out and... This really isn't grossing you out?"

"That you're different? Jeff! I grow claws and scales. I'm incredibly strong. I see better, hear better, run faster, jump higher than normal people and I have been known to pick fights with armored vehicles. You're half cat but I'm half mythological creature. Compared to me, you're the 'normal' one here. Now how do I make it come out and play?" I asked, stroking his sheath with my fingers.

"Ulp! Ah, that ought to do it. But I have to tell you, this could be messy. I, ah, I, there's a lot of — you know, when I, ah, you know?"

"Jeff? Are you a virgin?"

"No! Well. I mean. Yes."

"Do you want to stay a virgin? I mean, if you do, that's OK. I understand."

"Hell no! I mean, no. Don't stop. That feels very good. You're great."

"Thank you. All compliments cheerfully accepted."

"You're beautiful. And those are the biggest breasts I have ever seen!"

"I thought you were a virgin? Now you're a boob expert?"

"Hey, I never did it. Doesn't mean I never thought about it or looked at girls, you know? Well, looked at magazines mostly. And the late-night cable shows when we could sneak past the staff."

I put one of Jeff's hands on my boobs and he took the hint. He played with them wonderfully, alternating between using his palms and the back of his hands while he caressed me with his tail. The fur felt amazing on my skin.

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to purr," he laughed.

"You've got my motor running," I said. "Does this cock usually get this big?"

The thick, pink, fleshy spike protruding from his sheath looked out of proportion. I didn't know if I was supposed to count the part that was still in the sheath in the overall length.

"Yeah, that's about it. You better quit or I'll make a mess."

"I have no plans to quit. And if there is going to be any mess, I know just where I want it to go."

I lay down on his chest with my boobs in his face and slowly slid down until the pointy tip of his cock split my labia apart and just poked into my hole. It felt really hot, but I was pretty warm down there myself.

Jeff got this funny look, like he was feeling something he'd never felt before and he wanted to savor the moment. His eyes closed and his mouth opened. I could see that his teeth were narrow and sharp, but his incisors weren't all that much longer than anyone else's. I circled my hips, rolling the narrow tip of his cock around, getting it all slick and wet.

"Are you ready?" I asked him.

"Oh, yes! Do it!"

"No."

"What?"

"If you want to fuck me, you go ahead. If you want your hard cock in my pussy, you put it there. If you want me, you take me."

I read him perfectly. Jeff grabbed my hips and held them while he shoved his cock into me. I clenched my muscles around it, stopping him from getting it more than a third the way in. I wasn't going to make his first time an easy mercy-fuck. I wanted him to feel that he had been the aggressor.

It worked, too. When his cock stuck partway in, he growled, a scary, feral sound that was so exciting it just about made me cum right then. While I fought that urge, he rolled us over and put me on my hands and knees while he bent over behind me with his stomach on my raised butt.

Given the high position of his sex-organs and the upward-pointing angle of his erection, this was a more natural position for Jeff. When he leaned forward, his cock speared straight into my hole, I barely got hold of it before it went all the way in.

Feeling the same resistance, Jeff pushed harder. At the same time, I felt pinpricks on my skin where his fingers were pressing into my sides. I looked back and saw that Jeff had retractable claws too, and they were out and threatening to disembowel me if I didn't submit to him. I was sure this wasn't a conscious thing, but it still flashed my arousal into a state of animalistic heat to feel threatened and coerced like that. I immediately surrendered, pushing back against Jeff and accepting his cock completely into my pussy.

It felt even bigger than it looked, and it had looked pretty big. It was shaped like a skinny football with a pointy tip and a fat bulge behind it and then a narrower part as it went into his sheath. The sheath was the surprising part. With his cock all the way in, the end of it nestled up against my labia and the fur felt very nice against my sensitive parts.

"God, Jeff. That feels wonderful! But it's so big! Give me a minute to get used to it."

He pressed into me, holding very still as if he were also getting used to the sensation of having his cock inside a girl. After a few seconds, I felt something new happen. His already-fat cock swelled-up in me, stretching my vagina until it was too big to pull back out again. I was really shocked by this, but it very quickly became clear that this was nature's way of making sure I couldn't get away before he had inseminated me.

That just seemed so animalistic that I came really hard right then. I made my own animal-like noises and I shook like a leaf in a high wind, vibrating just before it flies off the branch into the breeze.

I thought my climax might set Jeff off, but instead it just seemed to make his cock even harder. When I subsided, he started a slow fucking motion, pushing in and pulling back as he rubbed his cock on my insides and his furry stomach on my ass and my back. His bloated cock was too big to pull out of me, but the feeling of it tugging at my hole from the inside, reminding me that it was locked in there, was incredibly hot. He kept that up for several minutes, bringing me to another orgasm, which he also waited out, before he resumed his steady assault on me.

 
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