Chapter Six

“Was that a yawn, young sir?”

“I’m afraid it was, ma’am. I think that wine is finally catching up to me.”

“And I think growing boys need their rest, especially those still somehow convalescing from a crippling car crash twenty long months go.”

To this Karl had no reply, except perhaps to point out that he was at least legally considered a man now. This he did not quite dare to do. Taking his bowed head for assent, Nurse Drake closed the open programs on the computer. She shut off the music and television and rose to take the handles of his wheelchair. As she rolled him toward the short hallway that led to the rest of the house Karl was still marveling over the accessibility: smooth floors all on one level, few doors, tons of clearance with a minimum of obstacles. Then they passed down the hall into another expansive open space, and he last understood. He should have realized it immediately after her words to him in the shower, and those of the mysterious board member.

This was a bedroom suite designed specifically for a quadriplegic, a victim of stroke or MS or anyone else needing significant mobility assistance. There was an electrically powered lift set in a track in the ceiling. Its dangling yoke and chains were gleaming steel and its sling of straps a thick rubber of supple black. Currently hanging directly over the adjustable king size bed, the course of the track showed that this could be moved to a space beside the bed for wheelchair transfer, to a well-equipped physical therapy area beyond this and then right around through a wide door-less entry into the huge attached bathroom.

Karl wasn’t the first patient to receive the benefit of Nurse Drake’s ‘special practice’, nor would he be the last. He’d known this; he just hadn’t appreciated the level of investment, of personal commitment represented here. He was diminished in importance even as his awed respect for his angelic savior soared anew. And then his face burned, his guts churned and his automatic systems quickened again as further realizations struck. He actually felt a swoony head rush as he absorbed the unbelievable implications of that big double bed, and the fact that the partially open wardrobe was filled with female clothes.

More clothes were draped casually here and there, and shoes, magazines, hairbrushes and other everyday objects lay scattered about. A bookmarked Clive Barker novel rested on the bedside table next to a half-full glass of water, a pen and notepad. It dawned on Karl that this was the master suite, Doreen’s own bedroom, which it seemed she was either giving up to or consenting to share with him. She was actually welcoming him into her most private and personal space – not to mention maybe even her bed. To forestall openly asking about such a suggestive possibility, or for more information about this private practice of hers, Karl opted for an oblique approach. Naturally Doreen knew what he really wanted to know.

“Wow! The state home this is definitely not! Awesome accommodations! All this modification must have cost a pretty penny!”

She stopped a short way inside to let him examine the whole set-up. Across from the bed was another giant TV and attached computer. Above this an enormous skylight gave a view of the country-bright stars. There was a handsome set of fine oak cabinets and artwork that was non-representational but somehow elusively sexy: statuettes in each corner and paintings on the walls. One hand stroked pleasurably along his ponytail as she explained.

“Yes, well, I was left a large sum of money by a patient I once cured of an affliction similar to yours. He’d thought there was no hope, you see. So that’s when I had this place remodeled. And that’s why I can afford to take a year off now and then to pursue therapies and perform treatments that are essential and yet fall outside the sanction of the AMA.

“This is a huge if irregular part of my life, Karl. Perhaps it’s my true life’s work, though usually I only get paid in satisfaction and esoteric prestige. I’m one of the few who practice this way and the acknowledged best there is. And yes, my dearest and latest patient, we’re going to be sharing the bed. Therapy aside, practicality demands it. I’m on my own here with you, darling. And I can trust you to be a gentleman now, can’t I?”

“Absolutely, Nurse Drake!”

Karl did his best to keep his voice steady, yet it still betrayed his amazed, uneasy excitement. As circumspect about this as she almost always was in the manner of his arousal, Doreen resumed pushing him toward that space beside the bed. After facing him around in the right direction she set the chair’s brakes and lifted a small remote.

A single touch, a quiet hum and the jingling of chains brought the lift over to them. With the ease and swiftness of old expertise Nurse Drake fitted straps about each thigh and worked others under his body. Snaps were snapped into rings and chains connected to straps, and within seconds he was firmly secured. Another button was tapped and he rose into the air, his legs pulling apart and his body slouching almost supine as the sling took his weight.

Karl rather missed the intimacy of the day’s manual transfers, no doubt. One could never get enough hugs, or opportunities to display one’s loving trust. But there was something kinkily compelling about the hoist as well, though only when Doreen was at the controls.

Something about his helpless body being restrained and manipulated by a machine she commanded, particularly this one with its naked steel and supple black rubber, evoked that submissive rapture in him. In his demented lust he wanted to prostrate himself, offer himself up to whatever demanding or demeaning use this living deity desired. Even out of uniform she was feminine power and authority personified. His destiny was hers to determine and her control over his self absolute. Gloriously desirable and benevolent in her omnipotence, blamelessly shaming in her moral superiority, it increasingly seemed the only appropriate fulfillment to be found with her was at her feet. His face blushing and his condom catheter suddenly pinching wickedly, Karl hung there like a bug caught in a web, slouched splayed out and supported in midair while Doreen smiled slyly as if she’d been privy to his entire train of thought.

“It’s not quite as close and personal, I know. But the lift has its appeal too, doesn’t it? It gets the old imagination going. An inventive couple could have all kinds of fun with this thing, couldn’t they?”

Karl could only drop his eyes, embarrassed all over again at his depraved cravings being so easily read. Considerate Doreen let him off the hook. She touched a button and he moved smoothly through space until he was over the bed; another and he was lowered gently down onto it. The covers were already turned back and he landed about a third of the way over. Doreen quickly disconnected the chains and straps and raised the lift right up to the ceiling. Then with efficiency and caring she proceeded to undress him. At last he lay naked on his back (no hospital gowns here apparently), with a luxurious feather pillow cradling his head. His heart rate and respiration were still way up, as was the crimped-off jut of his manhood. He couldn’t believe he was actually in this goddess’ bed, bare-assed and as erect as he could get! Still Doreen gave no sign she was aware of his heat aside from that subtle yet now recognizable curve to her smile.

“All comfy, love?”

“Yes ma’am, thank you.”

Karl’s voice cracked, and he cursed his youth and lack of cool. Doreen merely smiled on however, taking his cramped and needy organ in hand and disconnecting the tube and collection bag from the condom. Karl squirmed wildly inside and fought to moderate the heaving of the diaphragm that ought to be as crippled as everything else. He embarrassed himself again however, emitting a helpless little squeak as she squeezed him tighter in order to plug a new bag into the old one’s place. Then she left him panting and bobbing with pain and frustration while she carried that off to the bathroom.

“Back in jiff’!” Doreen turned the corner and disappeared into that door-less opening.

Lying naked and exposed to the entire insentient universe via the skylight over the big wall-mounted television, Karl continued to marvel over his situation – he couldn’t quite dare wonder yet just how far Doreen’s ‘carrot’ therapy might carry her – while he followed her movements with his ears.

He heard a distant tinkling as that bag was emptied, and a rushing faucet as it was rinsed. Another tinkling, faint to the limits of audibility followed, and he knew she was using the facilities herself. Suspense built in him then, as moments dragged on both before and after the sounds of flushing and the sink again. Karl throbbed ever harder, the weight of the tube jutting up from him no match for the possibilities imminent. He almost feared pushing the catheter off.

Part of him even hoped for this: to greet Doreen on her return with the monster rearing up, imploring for her attention on his behalf. He could never beg intimacy from her directly of course, but perhaps even goddesses could be tempted. Then his divine bedmate emerged from the bathroom, and another unconscious squeak escaped him.

The stylish summer dress was gone. Instead Nurse Drake wore only an exceedingly simple but incredibly alluring white silk nightgown. Spaghetti straps lay over her shoulders and the hem just touched her thighs. Between these the thin, sheer fabric clung lovingly to every curve. Through its translucence he could see the shadow of her navel and the delta of her pubis; she wasn’t wearing either panties or hair down there. Breasts that had always been trapped by fabric and primly harnessed by a sturdy bra now showed off their unbelievably enticing natural shapes. Their slopes were heroic, the globes themselves exactly matched. Wondrously weighty yet still gloriously upswept, these defied both gravity and time and looked set to do so for decades yet. The large nipples were exquisitely limned where they darkened the silk and protruded through. Yet above the one on the left was embroidered the gown’s only decoration: the winged staff and serpents of the caduceus, the traditional physician’s symbol. Seeing this badge of medical authority, Karl’s inappropriate hopes faded even as his ardor flared.

His rapture had it right. No matter how arousing this pantheon-in-one’s power, it set them apart in a way that made expecting intimacy seem impudent to the point of blasphemy. And indeed this was actually a bit of a relief, regardless of what adolescent hormones and nearly two irrecoverable years of celibacy might say.

Karl wasn’t sure he could handle the intensity of sex yet. The thought of making love had too many toxic associations. And if even dreaming about their many tree-house trysts seemed like a terrible betrayal of the mate he’d killed, what would actually having sex with another woman inspire in him? Would he be seeing Krista’s broken head and bulging eye on Doreen’s body as she mounted and rode him as he’d unforgivably refused to let his bullied girlfriend do? The thought was too hideous to entertain. Yet still he strained in his cramped confinement as Nurse Drake extinguished every light but the soft golden glow of the lamp on the bedside table and moved to join him.

Despite his conflict and the concerns of propriety, the need to be the gentleman he’d promised, Karl couldn’t tear his eyes from her as she approached. This freely bestowed vision of his goddess in her gown was far more erotic and affecting than his stolen peek at her in her underwear earlier. He drank it in with a trip-hammering heart, pulsating urgency and reverential awe. Doreen however showed no offense. Meeting his eyes she acknowledged his yearning worship with a sly smile and sexy twinkle. Then she doused the last light and climbed into bed. Pulling the covers up over them both, she slid right over next to him. The moon now coming through the skylight silvered her hair as she rose onto an elbow above him. Close up her eyes were dark and deep and doting.

“I had a wonderful time today, Karl. It was my first date in nearly a year, and you were just the perfect guy for it. I’ve never felt so flattered and valued. Despite what happened to her, the way you treated her and all, your Krista still must have felt like a lucky girl. Thank you.”

Looming so lovely above him, Doreen’s face dipped lower. Then she was kissing him on the mouth. This was no chaste peck either, but a warm, wet kiss that lingered just a bit too long for gratitude, friendliness, goodnight, birthday wishes or all of the above. Karl’s breath whistled a little through his nose in his chest-bursting excitement. Then it was over. Doreen pulled back some and there was an impish excitement of her own in the warning she delivered.

“So much for the fun, birthday boy. Tomorrow the work begins.”

She pulled the covers the rest of the way up over them. Then to his still astounded honor and delight she lifted his arm, snuggled her firm but yielding, silk-sheathed body tightly against his and pulled that unresponsive arm around her shoulders. Her flesh was smooth and bare and warm there. She settled her head in the hollow of his chest and her husky voice sent involuntary shivers through him in the dark.

“I know this isn’t very professional. But I just can’t resist. This bed has been empty for far too long. You don’t mind, do you darling? You keep me snug and cozy and I’ll try to keep the nightmares away for you.”

“It’s a deal,” Karl croaked, his attempted erection paining him worse than ever and his involuntary shivering fighting a losing battle against the warmth and security of that embrace. Doreen snaked an arm of her own around his naked body and pulled herself closer. One leg came partially across his. She sighed with a bliss that both melted and fired Karl inside. Then within minutes she fell easily asleep. Of course rest was sure to prove fat more elusive for him despite how late he’d lain awake the previous night.

At first it was sheer exaltation keying him up. Looking up past the somehow spider-like shape of the lift and sling, Karl could see the moon and stars and outer space through the big skylight. After two years in a box in the city, where light pollution pretty well effaced whatever of the night sky he might glimpse, this view was indeed heavenly. Yet what heaven could compare to the one he’d somehow landed in?

Karl had never been in a woman’s bed before. He’d never passed the night in one’s arms either. Look at him now: ensconced in a sumptuously comfortable king-size with this fabulously desirable icon of all he found captivating.

Her head was on his shoulder; he could smell her hair and feel the gentle tickle of her breath. His arm was around her own bare shoulders, unable to move (as if he might want to) yet there was nothing wrong with his sensation of course. And as far as sensations went, what could be more sensational than the feel of that incredible body pressed against his? Maybe a millimeter of slippery silk separated him from the breasts pressed into his flank. One smooth warm leg lay half atop his own, and a proprietary arm encircled his torso and hugged him close.

Karl could spend eternity just so, and he doubted his exhilaration would wane for eons. Of course he was only anticipating a year of such paradise, yet who could complain about that? Like the night previous, his thoughts turned to the state home he’d at least temporarily escaped.

Without the love and staggeringly generous commitment of the divine woman in his arms, he’d probably be lying face down right now in a narrow, sagging, pestilential bed with some sadistic pervert disgustingly violating him. He’d have eaten some repellant gruel or other for lunch and dinner, not fresh-caught fish and lemon-pepper chicken breast. Gratitude and amazement at his incredible good fortune filled him to bursting, and again Karl felt the urge to kiss this goddess’ feet, to slavishly service her orally, to submit to all manner of bizarre sexual subjugations in a vain attempt to express the infinity of his fealty. Of course the only course open was to do as he’d promised: devote himself fanatically to the treatment about to begin and to make damn sure saintly Nurse Drake’s efforts on his behalf weren’t wasted.

Eventually this determination led Karl back to the crux of the conflict causing his paralysis.

Deep inside where it remained immune to rationality, the blame and self-hatred that plagued his days was so virulently adamant that he found being crippled and degraded for life, helpless to prevent whatever punishments fate chose to inflict, more appealing than forgiving himself and getting on with adulthood. And despite the fervor of his promise he remained daunted by the scale of the challenge.

Already the negative emotions that ruled him were displacing his feelings of blessedness and exaltation. All the anguish, misery, despite, guilt and aversion to thoughts of love and sex that had retreated all day under Doreen’s overwhelming influence gradually returned. The offhand remark she had made before kissing him tolled over and over in his head. Even this consummately compassionate angel agreed that he was at fault, and that the way he’d treated a girl who only wanted to love him and be with him forever had been unconscionable.

With that his fear of the nightly nightmare joined Karl’s upset. He didn’t think he could stand to see Krista’s ruined head again, much less wake up in the aftermath of yet another unspeakably selfish climax while she remained eternally unfulfilled. Just as he was grinding his teeth over this near-certainty however, and feeling the sting of tears he was helpless to wipe away, Doreen stirred a little against him. Still sleeping, she murmured some incoherent endearment while her palm slid lovingly over his naked chest. She snuggled even closer, clutching him like a life-size teddy bear. Karl could actually feel the curve of her smile as she sighed and slipped back into deeper sleep. Through the press of her breasts he could even feel the strong, slow beat of her heart lying so close to his. Gradually his own agitated rhythm slowed in response, until the two were throbbing in synch. Calmness stole over him at last, the big day, his broken rest and the wine he’d had with dinner finally having its way. With his wonderful benefactor so blissfully cozy and snug against him, Karl recalled the ‘deal’ she’d offered him.

It seemed he was keeping his end of the bargain. Perhaps in turn Doreen’s loving influence really could keep the recurring nightmare away. He knew she hadn’t actually been serious, had only been excusing her still unbelievable wish to snuggle with him. As if she’d needed his permission! Yet the powers of this goddess often seemed boundless, and this hope was better than none. With that for comfort Karl finally felt himself drifting off. His last thought was of dim surprise. In all his insomniac meandering he hadn’t worried or even really wondered about what the treatment beginning tomorrow might entail. It seemed his trust and worship were as absolute as Doreen’s power over him now.