Chapter Eight

No more dreams troubled the night. When he next woke, Karl saw that daylight had arrived. Automatic polarization cut down the amount of sun glaring through the skylight, but it was still bright enough to see easily. His shoulder ached fiercely from lying immobile on his side for so long. Nevertheless Karl remained silent, unwilling to disturb the wondrous lady still nestled against him. He still had no real idea what the day (and year) ahead might hold for him. For the moment though this was paradise, sore shoulder and all.

The bed was just as comfortable as when he got into it, and Doreen as warm and solid and real as when she had. He could feel the pressure of her breasts still, the silk of her nightgown and the even silkier skin of her arms and legs. The side of his neck where the hair had been pulled away was humid with her deep, slow breathing. For a while Karl simply reveled in all this, endlessly replaying moments from the night past: Nurse Drake emerging from the bathroom wearing just this filmy thing, then responding to his worshipful appraisal with the smile that she reserved just for him. She’d actually kissed him, a real lover’s kiss and not a simple expression of affection between friends. Indeed she’d told Karl that she loved him and desired him, and that whatever he felt for her was okay and made her happy. He remembered her lying practically atop him, holding his throbbing penis in her hand as he recounted his dream for her. That got him twitching toward pain and frustration again however, and led toward things he’d just as soon not ponder. Seeking distraction, Karl settled for examining the little mini-gym in front of him.

This was not just for the physical therapy he still needed he realized, though there was a lot of padded floor space for his stretching exercises, similarly padded wedges of various angles and sizes for positioning his limp body, a medicine ball and other recognizable PT equipment. He also saw a workout bench that used resistance in lieu of weights like those endlessly hawked on men’s channels alongside trucks, Viagra, hair loss remedies and ‘natural male enhancement’.

Karl suppressed a snort with difficulty. He was with the late Bill Hicks on this: people in advertising were traitors to humanity. Yet he wished he could afford to make just one commercial, a public service announcement even. Attention men: your hair’s not growing back and your dick’s not getting any bigger. Deal with it. You could have real problems, you know. Anyway, now he knew where Doreen got the strength to muscle him in and out of cars all day. Though she wasn’t bulked up or anything, she clearly spent significant time here keeping fit. As if that thought had spurred it, the undeniably strong arm wrapped about him tightened as the deity in question stirred. Another kiss blessed the back of his neck and she purred with contentment. She even rubbed sensuously against him before sighing.

“Good morning darling. Did you enjoy your first night in my care?”

“More than I can possibly express!” avowed Karl. “Thank you so much Doreen, and not only for accepting me into your home and sanctuary and even bed. Thank you for all of yesterday, which was simply fabulous, and for being there for me in the middle of the night. Thank you for everything that lies ahead too. It’s all way more than I deserve.”

“Shush darling, that was all my pleasure and more. And as for what you deserve, today we’re going to start sorting out and fixing that. But first we need to get the morning routine out of the way. We’re going to take the order a little differently than at the clinic: hygiene first in other words. Tell me, is it your time of the week?”

“I believe that can wait until tomorrow.”

“Good enough. Let’s get you peeing then before we take that catheter off.”

This too was something Karl had no control over. When his bladder was full it simply emptied reflexively, which saved him the agony and indignity of invasive catheterization but required a little planning to work around. Now Doreen’s hand slid down his belly to press firmly on his abdomen. This tricked his bladder into thinking it was full, and within minutes he’d voided, removing the danger of doing so inconveniently for at least the next hour or two. Once he’d finished, his nurse at last relinquished her embrace. She cast back the covers and rolled Karl off his aching shoulder and onto his back.

Though his penis was quiescent for once in her presence, that began to change as soon as she laid hold of it. When Nurse Drake finally stripped away the condom Jeremy had rolled onto him the day before (never again, he cavorted inside), the monster woke up raging. After so much trapped agony he reared to the limit of his distension in seconds. Greedy with freedom, his need was so savage that it ripped a groan from Karl as he lay there throbbing, muscle spasms shuddering involuntarily down his body.

After last night’s understanding, Karl no longer worried so much about suppressing those groans. Doreen was right as always. His worshipful lust was no secret. It was even appreciated.

The mannered charade of the clinic was unnecessary here. The person of his worship confirmed this by smiling in that way she had at him in response. She set the catheter and the entire collection rig next to the bed to be dealt with in a moment. Then she demonstrated that all kinds of strictures were being eased by using a finger to tickle his madly questing tip.

“Someone knows it’s bath time. Maybe someone even guessed that eating and bedding down aren’t all we’re going to be doing together for efficiency’s sake. I’ve got my hands full with you darling, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. So: shall we get you wrapped in straps and hung in chains, have a little fun with rubber and steel?”

In recounting his dream Karl had confessed his submissive sexual compulsion toward her, and Doreen had measured the intensity of this personally as he described successive episodes. Now she wasn’t chiding or mocking or trying to shame him but offering risqué banter meant to show her friendly acceptance of the unorthodox but understandable urges she’d already intuited in him weeks ago. There was even a curve to her lips that indicated this was a game she wouldn’t mind playing in the right situation – at the Marriott in Maui perhaps. In the bedroom at Nurse Drake’s place, all she currently had to offer was a charged atmosphere as she indeed wrapped him in straps and hung him from chains. With its similitude to bondage in the open at last, Karl understood why the sling had excited him before. And with his dream of the obstetrics table made indelible by sharing, he also understood why he throbbed in ever more rampant want as he hung in an evocatively similar posture – and then responded to his goddess’ control by sliding smoothly through space toward the surely unbearably fraught experience ahead.

Heart pounding, swinging a little, Karl rode helplessly along like a chassis on an assembly line – or livestock in a slaughterhouse. Then they turned the corner and he followed his widely splayed legs into accessibility heaven again.

The bathroom was huge and roomy and equipped with every convenience for disabled care. Though there was an ordinary toilet to the right just inside, at the far end of both the room and lift track was another much larger one. This had no seat (not that anyone but the extremely obese could fit it) and provided ample access for assistance. A flexible hose and nozzle bettered a bidet and a nearby rack held boxes of rubber gloves and equipment for delivering enemas if necessary. Tomorrow for those worries though – right now it was the tub that held his attention.

This dominated the center of the room. Sunk deep into the smoothly tiled floor and rising perhaps a foot and a half above it, this was the same eye-resting shade of pale green as the tiles. As he slid over it Karl judged it about eight feet square and more than three deep – plenty big enough for two, in other words. There was a cathedra built into one side: a low seat for lounging mostly submerged. He noted the many nozzles set at various levels all around the interior; this was a Jacuzzi too. There were faucets at all four corners for rapid filling, a showerhead curving down from above and another on a retracting hose. Handy caddies held a variety of soaps, shampoo, conditioner, bubbles and bath oil, and washcloths and towels waited on a heated rack. Halted just above the tub, Karl waited in a tizzy of arousal and suspense as Nurse Drake started it filling. She added bubbles and a lilac-scented oil and then carried his overnight collection rig to one of three sinks along a completely mirrored wall.

Seeing himself dangling slouched and splayed, rigidly erect and restrained by rubber was almost as arousing for Karl as Doreen’s shapely backside molded by the silk of her gown. Damn, he was turning perverted! Slyly eying him in reflection, the lady in question seemed to perceive this realization even as it came over him. Dropping a grinning wink, she discarded the condom, emptied and rinsed the bag and tube and hung them up to dry. By the time she’d finished the tub was full. Returning to where he dangled with an impish smile and a gleam of intent, Doreen shut off the water and almost ceremoniously lowered Karl into its sudden steam and sting.

For a moment he felt like a missionary going into a cannibal’s cook-pot. But then his goddess stopped when he was half submerged. His back, balls, buttocks, the undersides of his thighs and his legs from the knees on down all flamed at being immersed in that slippery simmer. Nearly supine as he was, his head, neck and upper torso remained free to sweat with his belly and groin right at the churning surface. Exultant in its freedom, his erection bobbed above the bubbles, still pulsing in all its wonderfully painless stretch. But of course the monster hadn’t even been tempted yet. Still plying that beguiling smile and enjoying his reaction to the fullest, saintly Nurse Drake slipped her thumbs under its straps and dropped her gown to the ground.

How does one react to seeing divinity unveiled? Karl almost expected the sight of such perfectly formed flesh to sear his eyes out. An hourglass shape wonderfully padded yet scanty of fat, perfectly symmetrical breasts boasting strawberry-red nipples as large and protuberant as that hot-house fruit; wide, wonderfully curvy hips directing attention to the delta and vulva at the center: such a vision was just too spectacular to be permitted any mortal man, much less one so tainted by atrocity. Glutting his guilty eyes on this iconic Earth-mother fertility-goddess Venus figure, Karl felt the ghost of his caveman ancestors who’d carved this primordial divinity worshipfully in ivory, wood and stone for the last thirty thousand years cry out with genetically encoded lust, reverence, and timidity.

Here in front of him was embodied the most sacred, astonishing miracle in all existence: the fount of new life and all the divine authority that went with it. Again basking in his moaning scrutiny, this goddess (Karl didn’t recall when he’d started thinking of her as one but now it was impossible not to) slipped gracefully into the bath. She ducked under briefly. Then she emerged as Venus from the surf, that fabulous body now sheathed with a gleaming sheen. Soap bubbles clinging here and there and foaming about her groin where the surface boiled, she swept her hair behind her ears and approached like the epitome of unattainable desirability.

Caught between his absolutely imperative arousal and the bitter knowledge that he was blasphemously unworthy of the touch or even sight of this feminine godhead, Karl moaned in miserably conflicted blessedness. Doreen smiled a little wider, that special smile, and touched his thigh just above the rubber strap with intimacy and commiseration.

“I know this can’t be easy darling. Even with the issues still troubling you I must look like a harvest feast to a starveling. But as I’ve said, bathing us together this way is both easier for me and therapeutic for you. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll take care of you like I never could at the clinic. Then we’ll finally get our big day and your treatment underway.”

“Your wish is my command, ma’am,” Karl croaked. “You’ll never hear any complaining from me.”

“Good boy.” Again Doreen gave him a twinkle and a tickle, right at that most sensitive junction that made him moan and yearn more intensely upward than ever. Warm brown eyes glinted with mischief at her double-entendre. “Hang in there, then.” She picked up the shampoo, moved under the showerhead and turned it on.

So began a show so ordinary yet amazingly erotic that Karl indeed felt like a famine victim before a smorgasbord. Just the jiggling and reconfiguring of Doreen’s breasts as she raised her arms to wash and condition her hair kept him straining madly to break free of the prison of his paralysis. The soaping, scrubbing and rinsing of the fabulous body that followed, expeditiously done as it was, aroused him nearly as much in the mere watching as submitting to her daily ablutions back at the clinic. Yet most maddening of all the grooming carried out right in front of Karl came when his goddess then sank into her cathedra and picked up a straight razor.

Ignoring him aside from a peripheral grin now and then, Doreen hummed or sang softly to herself as she stripped away the stubble.

Again her breasts were pulled into glorious new shapes as she raised each arm to shave underneath. Each leg was lifted from the bath, forming incredibly affecting lines as it was soaped and stoked with the razor. A handy strop was used to freshen the edge. Then finally he clenched his teeth, writhed inside and suffered an agony of excitement as Doreen shaved her pubis too. At last she rinsed, rose, pulled a comb through her hair and moved sleekly beautiful though the few feet of steamy spa that separated them. It was his turn.

A thick rubber strap was shifted, his head was tipped way back, and this time Karl watched those breasts dance from only inches away as his own hair was vigorously washed – twice this time, a rare luxury indeed. Doreen even instituted using conditioner on him too, declaring that as long as she was on her own clock, she was going to have her only patient looking awesome. It must have been twenty minutes then that Karl hung there helpless with his head stretched back and those tits jiggling right in his face, and by the time she combed him out and donned a sponge-mitt identical to the one she’d used at the clinic he was already nearly mad with exalted frustration. Still the incentives kept coming.

Almost immediately it was obvious that being bathed in the tub and sling was going to be a far more paradisiacal experience than in the shower with a wheelchair.

For starters they had more room and their bodies were positioned more conveniently. They were closer to the same level, there would be no bending or squatting necessary. And rather than being seated mostly upright he hung almost horizontal, everything within easy reach of her arms. By shifting the sling straps one at a time Nurse Drake also had access to his entire underside. Her breasts again hanging just above his head, she proceeded to bathe Karl in a far more leisurely fashion than ever before, making this not a friendly but still professional obligation but a sensuous experience beyond compare. Eighteen and supercharged with testosterone, trapped in a body locked in inertia, the troubled adolescent found himself in a delirium of unrelievable need even before Doreen arrived at his privates. Then he began to honestly wonder how he’d ever make it through a year of this.

As this was always the most sexually charged part of his care, Karl soon found that their new routine made it more perversely compelling than ever. In bathing his legs, Nurse Drake had shifted the bottom two straps looped about each thigh a couple inches higher. Now he slouched down even lower, and the weight of his body pulled down harder, so that the straps splayed his legs out even ridiculously wider, the rubber stretching a bit at the demands put on it and compressing the flesh of his inner thighs. Spread blatantly open like this, his outthrust crotch might have been spotlighted and on display in some medical study: most pitifully, futilely, rabidly aroused genitals in history. Seeing himself in the mirror, a sick sort of exhibitionism gripped him at the picture of helpless subjection he made. He looked up at Doreen soaping her mitt again, mutely offering his willing humiliation at her hands in submissive sexual tribute. Her eyes told him she accepted and treasured it. Then she began scrubbing around his balls and groin.

As always Nurse Drake scoured every crevice, each of which was of course pulled open to canyons by those straps. Then in another variation on their shower chair routine she took advantage of his position to do underneath at the same time. Soap-slippery sponge over firmly pressing fingers slid back and forth along the junction of his stretched-apart buttocks. They worried insistent circles against his anus. Flaming with greater mortification than ever, Karl could no longer meet his goddess’ eyes. Nevertheless the monster spoke for him, straining out in quivering rigidity as it anticipated its own wonderfully loving scrubbing. But the routine was altered again, and Karl could only throb on in imploring dismay at the delay.

Rather than re-soap her mitt after rinsing it with the sprayer, Nurse Drake removed it.

Turning to a nearby caddy she plucked a pair of beautician’s scissors. Then without any discussion of the matter she began trimming away his pubic hair. Reading Karl’s reluctance easily, she spoke playfully but with the undercurrent of sternness he hadn’t heard in awhile. Of course it only deepened his rapture to be dominated so.

“You heard me last night both dreaming and waking, darling. The monster is being shorn of his mane. I want my patient clean and smooth, sleek and sexy under my hands.”

Shamefaced and throbbing, Karl made no objection. Nurse Drake could do whatever she wished to him, her power was the very definition of absolute. And after the lesson of his nightly dreams he wasn’t about to let precepts of supposed manliness drive him to try and deny this new love anything. Indeed his meek acquiescence to this symbolic emasculation – along with his extreme vulnerability as she snipped confidently around his manhood – stoked his groveling submissiveness to a face-flaming pitch. He found himself unconsciously trying to yearn his crotch upward, offering it to her for whatever castrating mischief she might chose to do to it. Naked Nurse Drake seemed to take him up on this, trading the scissors for that gleaming sweep of surgical steel. She lathered him sensuously and set to work on the stubble.

Terror, giddy abandon and worshipful trust did battle in Karl. He was suspended helpless above drowning, alone but for this divine icon sliding an incredibly keen three-inch blade over his privates. So fraught with kinky significance was the moment that he panted uncontrollably and even whimpered a bit in his extremity. Still his cock raged insanely, and still Doreen smiled her little smile, not so absorbed in her work as to miss her patient’s madly burning perversity.

Everything was going according to plan. After she rinsed him off baby-smooth bare and stinging all over, and traded her considerably dulled razor for a bottle of lotion, after she raised him a few inches higher and blotted him dry before applying it, Nurse Drake at last began to explain that plan.