He Doesn't

Sam shook and screamed and even tried pushing Holly away with both hands, but his head was stuck and he couldn't breathe. Holly, rapt in the ecstasy of Sam's attention, didn't notice his writhing had shifted from pleasurable to a cry for help, until his grip on her body went slack. She pulled him from her busom and found that he passed out from the pressure her immense funbags put on his head.

"Not again," Holly murmured to herself, pouting. She lay Sam on the bed and called out for help.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sometime later, Sam woke up in bed in a white room. He had no idea how he got there. He just remembered having the most wonderful dream where he smothered by a blonde Milf's super-sized titties. As he got his bearings, he could tell that he was in a lab of some kind: There were counters along the edge of the room, some of which medical equipment. His situation also slowly came back to him: Being at the camp, blowing off class for Holly, everything. He was hooked up to a trio of IVs with candy-colored liquids, which meant he wasn't just going to get up and walk out.

Just as the idea occurred to him, the door swung open. Yet another tall, well-endowed blonde strode into the room. Based on the lab coat, he assumed she was his doctor. As she turned to face him, he saw that the uniform hid a more revealing outfit: A black miniskirt and a red blouse that could barely contain her DDs.

"Allo Mr... Archer," the doctor read aloud from a clipboard in a thick German accent. "Sam Archer. And you are here because you spent too long trapped in Mrs. Halsteader's clutches, ja?"

Sam nodded.

"Ah I see," she said sharply. "Do not worry, young man. You are not the first to get caught in that black widow's web. I am doctor Poppinpuus, one of the camp's physicians. We will just make sure you are healthy and get you back on your feet. Let's take a look at your vitals..."

The doctor's high heels clicked as she walked over Sam's bed. She checked his IVs, then leaned across him to check the machinery on the other side, giving him an eyeful of cleavage. Her two perfectly spherical breasts pressed into each other creating an entrancing symmetry. He did his best to avoid staring directly into it... and failed. His cock, which had been dormant since he woke up, suddenly started to rise.

When she stood up, he'd pitched a sky-high tent and couldn't do anything about it.

"Mein Gott!" she gasped. "How is this possible!?"

Sam blushed... "It's not THAT big, doc," he said half-sheepish, half-teasing. "And you kinda started it, leaning over me like that..."

"No, no, no," she said, increasingly distraught. "You don't understand. One of your IVs is a hormone suppressant. We use it to make sure campers actually rest while they're here. You should not be able to get hard right now."

Sam head started spinning. He didn't even know they had kind of ****! It sounds like what they use on pedophiles and serial killers!? What the fuck were they doing using it on him!? And now he finds out he's immune!? What does THAT mean!? There were waves of upsetting, confusing questions assaulting his thoughts. He didn't know what to do. Should he stay? Should he run...

As all these thoughts ran through his mind, his boner began to soften. Somehow, that made Dr. Poppinpuus even more upset.

"Wait!" She yelled. "We have to take some blood! And perform some tests!" She turned and looked directly into Sam's eyes. "You must stay hard as long as you can."

While he sympathized, the tone didn't exactly have the desired effect. "I'm freakin out, doc," he said, unable to hide his concern. "It's ha... difficult, to stay hard while I'm processing this stuff."

"Ah," she said, smirking. "So what you need is a distraction, Ja? I think I can arrange that." Dr. Poppinpuus walked back toward the door and popped her head outside for a moment.