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Mercies

By: jjsharshaw



Mercies

Mercy: 5. kind or compassionate treatment; relief from suffering

- Webster's New World Dictionary of the American Language, Second College Edition

"All right. Shit! Time?" Dr. Janet "J.T." Monroe was exhausted, her scrubs soaked with sweat, the blood of her patient splashed on her lab coat. A head injury patient she had treated intensively for five days had coded in the Neuro Intensive Care Unit just after one in the afternoon. 

"1537," said one of the nurses. 

"Time of death is 1537. Is the family here?"

"They're in the quiet room."

"Okay. Lisa," J.T. said to her P.A., "everyone else stable?"

"Yeah, J.T., I rounded on everyone before Mr. Jenkins coded. Everyone else is okay."

"Go on back to the office then and send everyone home. Who's got the service tonight?"

The Physician's Assistant spoke slowly, unsure of what was going on. "Uh, little early in the day to be knocking off, isn't boss? Dr. Bryce is on the service tonight and tomorrow."

J.T. pulled off her gloves, ran her hands through her hair and was looking at the floor, moving a foot idly back and forth among the debris from the code, "Will you call Bryce and ask him if he'll round for me tonight? And no, everyone's been working hard, maybe too hard. I know I've been a royal bitch lately so send everyone home. A little stress breaker, you know? Uh, tell the hourlies that they'll get a full day on their checks."

"Sure boss. Um, you okay?" 

J.T. looked up at her P.A. and smiled a weary smile. "I will be. Go home Lisa. I'll need you sharp for Mrs. Collins and her blastoma in the morning."

The P.A. smiled cautiously, a strange feeling that something wasn't quite right with her boss, and left. J.T. stripped off her bloody coat and grabbed a surgical gown then headed toward the quiet room to meet Mr. Jenkins' family. The meeting with the family went better than J.T. had expected. 

J.T. was determined that the star high school fullback was going to make it. She could save him, she was sure of it. She was sure that his family would blame her for his death. And she dreaded having to tell his family he was gone. 

Brian Jenkins, trying to get into the end zone from the two-yard line, on the last play of the game, to win the State regional quarter final, tucked the ball under his arm and lowered his head and sped full speed for the end zone. Just as he crossed the line of scrimmage, a linebacker, moving equally fast, with his head down, hit Jenkins head on. The sound of Brian Jenkins' helmet shattering could be heard in the press box of the stadium and a hush fell over the stadium as Brian Jenkins lay still on the ground, his skull fractured and his neck broken. 

J.T. Monroe seemed to be the only person in town who didn't know Brian Jenkins wasn't going to live. 

Brian Jenkins' family quietly and earnestly thanked the neurosurgeon for all her efforts and then quietly left to make funeral arrangements. 

J.T. sat alone in the quiet room, put her face in her hands and wept bitterly. 

She startled when she felt a hand gently touch her shoulder. "You know J.T., you've got to stop getting so involved in your cases. It's going to kill you."

J.T. wiped tears from her eyes and looked up at Christopher Dunn, the Vice President for Medical Staff Affairs. "I really did think I could pull him through, Chris."

"Yeah, I know. But Bryce told me when Jenkins came in that he was glad he wasn't on call. Now, not to be insulting - I know you're not a big fan of Bryce's - but he's good and if he could see a lost cause..."

"Oh," she sobbed and took a deep breath, getting herself somewhat under control, "I know. It's just I've been working a lot and he's the fourth tough case I've lost in the past 4 weeks. I think I kinda needed a win, you know?"

"Yeah." Chris put his arms around J.T.'s shoulders and hugged her. "Why don't you take some time off, hey?"

He held her a moment longer and then a pager went off. They both reached for their pagers to see whose it was. Chris smiled sadly, "It's me. Gotta problem down stairs I need to attend to. You gonna be okay?"

"Sure."

Two hours later as he was heading for the parking lot Dunn decided to go through the medical arts building and check on J.T. in her office. He noticed the office curiously empty. Even though it was going on six there were usually several people in the waiting room and some front office staff behind the desk. 

He pushed on the office door. It was unlocked. He went inside and went to J.T.'s private office. The neurosurgeon sat behind her desk holding a stainless steel 9mm pistol in one hand and a cigarette in the other. 

"Teaching your gun how to smoke, J.T.?"

J.T. looked up, "You don't want to be here Chris. I'm in a pretty bad mood," she said flatly. 

Chris cautiously sat down on the sofa, "Looks like you're in a suicidal mood to me. I think I'll stick around a while."

"Yeah? Where'd you get your medical degree?" She squinted at him through a cloud of smoke.

"I don't need a degree, doctor. The office is deserted. You look like shit. You just lost a patient that you were sure you were going to save. You're concentrating on that pistol intently. You're smoking in a hospital building, tsk, tsk. The only thing I don't get is that statistically most women commit suicide with pills not guns."

"See," she said mirthlessly, "there you go. I'm not suicidal. I'm just looking over my gun. Fondling it, actually, see?" She rubbed the muzzle of the pistol over her breasts and then up the side of her neck.

"So, all you need is to get laid then?" 

"Oh, no; at least not with a human. I think I had my fill, oh six or eight weeks ago. I think I'm swearing off sex with men."

"Going over to the other side, eh?" He winced inside at his use of 'the other side.'

She stared at him, her eyes empty, and ran the muzzle of the gun over her chin. She reached out with her tongue and licked the muzzle. She took the pistol down and paused, "No women either."

Chris started to jump up from the sofa to try and wrestle the gun from her but in a flash she straightened her arm and pointed the gun at him. "Huh uh, Chris. Sit your ass down or go with me. I've actually shot someone up close. Kinda enjoyed it. Sit. NOW!"

"Okay, J.T., okay. Just, uh, be cool. I'm sitting back down. See? Sitting down."

She put her arm down and looked at the gun, ignoring him. 

"J.T., what's going on? Talk to me, please." His voice was quiet and, he hoped, as calming as it could be.

J.T. threw her head back against her chair and looked up at the ceiling. "It's all the fucking bullshit around here, you know?"

"Well...there's a lot of that going around J.T., any specifics?"

"You missed the last staff meeting. Old Guernsey Miller took an hour and a fucking half bitching about parking space assignments in the new garage. Where the hell were you, by the way? You wouldn't have let him go on like that. I was damn near ready to lobotomize him. Jesus H. Christ!

"I had an appointment out of town. So is old Doc Miller the only bullshit? Christ, I can exempt you from staff meetings. Problem solved."

"No." She was suddenly very sullen. She looked at the gun and then it seemed like her eyes defocused. She spoke quietly, flatly. "There are people dying. I mean, shit, in all my years of practice I've lost a bunch of people but lately..." she let her voice trail off.

"And there are people betraying you. There are people you thought were your friends and they're fucking you over - literally. There are the fucking insurance companies trying to second-guess my every move. 

"I had to actually explain to someone doing pre-cert what a glioma was and why it was necessary to operate!

"It's...You know Chris, I'm just tired. I am so very, very tired. I just want things to stop, you know?"

"I know J.T., really I know." Chris thought she was distracted and he made it half the distance to the desk when she brought the pistol up and fired five shots in rapid succession, all missing him and hitting the sofa exactly where he had been sitting. The shots were deafening but no one likely heard; the building was closed now and J.T.'s office was on the top floor in a corner. 

After the smoke cleared and the ringing in Chris's ears started to go down, J.T. said, "I got a high capacity mag. Still twelve more shots left. Next time I won't miss. Sit down and don't try that shit again." Her voice was calm and yet angry. Very angry. 

"Well, uh, J.T., you and Michael still have a good marriage, right?"

"You're fairly dense for a guy in your position, you know that? I've never noticed that before. Bucko, all that about betrayal, getting fucked over - that's my marriage and my friends, you fucking moron!"

"Okay, so I'm a moron..."

"A fucking moron," she interjected. 

"All right, so I'm a fucking moron, you want to talk about it?"

J.T. snorted. "Sure. Why the hell not? I get more pissed off every time I tell it. 

"Six or eight weeks ago, give or take, I come home late and find Jimmy Byrd and his 22-year-old graduate nurse/wife/bimbo - you know she's younger than his daughter? - well, anyway, they were all sitting in my living room drinking with Michael. I'm tired. They offer me a drink. Like an idiot I take it. They never told me what they put in it. It felt good whatever the hell it was. 

"Michael's kissing me," she smiled at the memory and her voice took on a pleasant tone as she talked, "getting me out of my clothes. This incredible wave of lust comes over me. I feel someone tugging at my scrub pants so I lift my hips, the pants come off and I feel the most divine feeling - soft, wet lips on my vulva - and I look down and it's Sally Byrd licking me. I put my hands in her hair and hold her against me while I hump her face. It was soooo nice. 

"I'm coming along nicely, her doing my cunt, Michael sucking my tits and then Jimmy takes me by the chin, turns my face to him and sticks his cock in my mouth. It's got Sally's musk on it like he'd already fucked her. 

"Michael moves up on the other side of me and slaps his cock on my cheek - you know like you see in those cheesy porn movies. I let Jimmy slide out of my mouth and take Michael. After a while then Jimmy's slapping my cheek and I go back to him. God I felt like such an absolute slut. 

"Everybody has a round with me. I forget how many times I came - of course most of it was from whatever drug they doped me up with. 

"We're all mellow. We're lying around like a bunch of lions that are stuffed from their kill. It was my first time at group sex. Then Jimmy flips me onto my belly, pulls me up on all fours by my hips and proceeds to fuck the daylights out of me. Sally crawls under me and is sucking my tits and fingering my clit." She pauses a moments, laughs softly, smiles. "God damn it all felt so good. When Jimmy got tired of my cunt he took my ass; I'd never let Michael do more than finger my ass. It hurt like hell for a few minutes but then it felt good; felt fun to just let go and, of course, in my state of intoxication, I didn't give a rat's ass that Jimmy was doing me bareback.

"It was a strange feeling, a pleasantly nasty feeling to have another man's sperm literally all over me. When Jimmy finished in my ass and I collapsed onto my belly, Sally rolls me over and straddles my face. Another first. She leaned forward a little and put her 

hands on my belly as I licked her. Her cum and the guy's cum were dripping on my face and tongue. God...I always thought, uh, face sitting was so stupid when I saw it when Michael wanted me to porn surf with him but...shit, I thought I was in heaven."

Then her smile went away and her voice took on a hard, angry tone, "A week later I've got a sore throat and discharge from my cunt and ass. I've got the fucking Clap! In my cunt, ass and throat! The only guy who came in all three places that night? Jimmy."

"Uh, what was Michael doing that night?" Chris inquired hesitantly. He was fascinated and despite himself and the dire situation, quite aroused now. 

"Ah, well my faithful husband of 26 years. He was banging the daylights out of Sally. Second youth for him I guess. 52 years old making a 22 year old squeal in delight. Must have been a great boost for his ego. 

"Well, after I confront him with the clap issue, he comes clean - sort of. Jimmy had the hots for me. Michael had the hots for Sally. It was a straight trade he said. He was banging Sally while the penultimate pervert, Jimmy, stuck his germ-infested dick in all my available holes. It was Jimmy's idea to drug me too, by the way.

"Well, I accepted that up to a point. I knew whoring me out like that was a long-standing fantasy of Michaels' - so okay. I never told him but it sort of excited me too. But, it wasn't a straight trade. I suppose I should be flattered. Except I felt very betrayed. Michael traded me for Sally and her girlfriend, Jimmy's 23 year-old daughter, Kendra.

"I came home early one day a week or so later - I'm still taking the fucking antibiotics - and caught Michael and Kendra in our bed. She was sucking him off. In a magnanimous gesture of love or some shit, Michael offered to let me fuck Kendra with a strap-on dildo that Kendra just happened to have. When Kendra raised her head, turned, smiled at me - drool and pre- cum on her chin - and said, 'Come on Janet. I've always wanted to get fucked by a hard, old bitch,' well," J.T. paused, her eyebrows arched and she was picking idly at her scrub pants, "I just left. I just fucking left." 

"I filed for divorce the next day. I found out Michael had been very busy among my female friends. Spreading the word that I'm a frigid, controlling bitch while getting sympathy fucks. I just found out he was banging Sheila Macon from Public Relations. You wanna know how? She came to me all pissed, she had the clap too - and she gave it to her husband who's some big cheese in the First Baptist Church. Michael gave it to her. When she confronted him he swore I gave it to him. I guess in addition to being frigid, I'm a whore too. 

"So that's my life, Chris. Sucks pretty bad. But I bet this won't be bad..." her voice trailed off into almost a whisper. She put the pistol in her mouth, sliding her lips over the first two or three inches of the frame and barrel. 

She pumped it in her mouth like she was sucking cock. Slowly. Sensually. Terribly. Morbidly. Chris saw her thumb move toward the trigger saw her finger pulling back the hammer and then heard the hammer come back slowly and lock with a snick. She closed her eyes and moaned as if she was in some sort of sexual ecstasy. It was going to be now or never, Chris thought. 

Chris bounded over the desk and threw his entire body weight on J.T. while grabbing the gun with both hands, wresting it away from her. 

Her desk chair tipped over, Chris rolled away from her with the gun and she lay, stunned, on her back, still in the chair. He came to her, pulled her into a sitting position on the floor and cradled her body with his. 

She was shaking; her lips and mouth were bleeding from his jerking the gun away. She just sat in numb silence while he held her, wiped her lips and chin and murmured things to her to try to calm her. 

But J.T. Monroe was not an insubstantial woman; she went to the gym three times a week and boxed. She came around enough to keep Chris from getting her from her office. So they sat on the floor, alternately sitting apart and holding her. She ranted and raved, sobbed, cried, poured out everything to Chris. 

She was incoherent at times. Three times during the course of the night she physically assaulted him and tried to kill them both. The last attempt was with a letter opener. It was sharp enough to stab Chris in the shoulder but too dull to slit her wrists. By the time she decided to try stabbing her throat Chris had recovered enough to wrest it away from her. 

At 5:30AM, Lisa, the P.A., came in. She gasped when she entered Monroe's office and saw the ransacked office. She didn't immediately see Chris and J.T. because they were on the floor behind the desk. 

"Lisa!"

Lisa jumped when Dunn yelled. "Chris?"

"Lisa, behind the desk. Help me to get J.T. up. We need to get her over to psych."

"Oh, Jesus, she tried to kill herself. I was afraid something was wrong yesterday."

J.T. looked like she was in shock. She didn't acknowledge Lisa's presence, she didn't say anything; she just allowed herself to be lead to the hospital. An hour later, she was given an electro shock treatment and sent to a private room in full restraints. 

Chris was at her bedside gently rubbing the electrode gel from her hair when she woke up. 

"Chris?"

"Yeah?"

"What...?"

"You got a little Empire Electric current compliments of Dr. Chandra's little ECT machine. Feel better?"

"Yeah," she whispered. 

"Rough night we had."

"I'm sorry, really."

"Don't mention it." Chris smiled at her and rubbed the cool washcloth softly around her face. "Lisa's lining up all your urgent surgery with Bryce and postponing the rest until you're better. Dr. Ezra is going to be seeing you later when you're more alert. Now why don't you go back to sleep? I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Chris," she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Come closer, I want to whisper something to you."

Chris raised his eyebrows and lowered his head. She moved her head up and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Thank you."

Dr. Ezra treated J.T. for major depression for about eight weeks and then let her go back to practice. Chris managed to keep the bizarre details of the night in J.T.'s office suppressed and six months later convinced the medical staff executive committee to name J.T. Monroe as chief of neurosurgery. 

Chris moved to Kansas City to take a better job. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Two Years Later...

J.T. looked at her watch, frowned and stuck her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. She was standing by the doors to the ambulance bay, looking outside. The big snowstorm hadn't started yet; it was still in Oklahoma moving northeast at about 10 miles per hour. If it kept its current course and speed the leading edge of the storm would hit Joplin about 5 AM. J.T. looked at her watch again; it was 11:30 PM. 

She had a patient in the Neuro Intensive Care Unit who she was betting would need surgery first thing in the morning, if not sooner. She lived on a small farm in rural Newton County. She knew she could make it home but making it back was going probably to be a problem. So, reluctantly, she decided she'd stay at the hospital. 

"J.T.?" The House nursing supervisor was at J.T.'s elbow. 

"What is it, Joyce?" she asked in that weary, "what now" tone of voice.

"I just got off the phone with Phil about the coming storm."

"And what did our illustrious Chief of Staff have to say?" J.T. asked wearily.

"He's in Kansas City. He told me to find the senior House medical officer and ask them if we should implement the snow plan. And you're it."

Dr. Monroe moved to the door, "Come on, let's have a smoke." The doctor and nurse stepped out into the ambulance bay.

"I'm out," Joyce said. 

"Here," J.T. flipped a cigarette from her pack. J.T. lit both their cigarettes and then shook her head as she was blowing out her first drag. "I saw Mike Skelly rounding in ICU about 20 minutes ago. He's senior."

"Not to you. Skelly's an attending but not a chief of service and the policy says when there's a chief of service..."

J.T. cut her off, "...yeah, yeah. All right. What's your call?"

"I think it's gonna be hell in the morning if we get as much as the weather service is predicting. You got that head injury that's going to need surgery..." the nursing supervisor let her voice trail off.

"Okay, the Senior House Officer has invoked the emergency snow plan as of, what the fuck time is it anyway?"


Mercies



"2335."

"The emergency snow plan is invoked as of 2335 hours."

"Here's your radio." The nursing supervisor handed the doctor a walkie-talkie. 

J.T. eyed the walkie-talkie and then the nursing supervisor suspiciously and blew out her last drag. "You just ambushed me, didn't you?"

The supervisor snubbed her butt out and smiled, "I caught Skelly on my way down to the ER. He was the one who reminded me of the policy about the chief of service."

They walked inside, "I owe him. The bastard. Well, I'm going to grab some sleep up in the executive room. It is your job to see that I am not bothered for at least four hours, unless it's a bona fide emergency."

"Sure thing, Chief."

J.T. pointed the walkie-talkie's antenna at the supervisor and in mock anger said, "You watch your mouth Joyce."

Joyce saluted, a huge smile on her face. As J.T. walked down the hall to the elevators she casually flipped off the nursing supervisor and her long time friend. 

"I'll make all the notifications, J.T." Joyce called after her.

"Thanks, babe."

~~~~~~~~~~~

The executive room was a converted patient room on the seventh floor that senior staff could use if they needed to stay in house. 

J.T. pulled the drapes. As she headed to the bathroom she had a vaguely uneasy feeling. It bothered her that she couldn't put her finger on it; it wasn't her patient or the coming snowstorm.

She unlocked her drawer in the vanity and pulled out her makeup remover, toothbrush and toothpaste.  Makeup off and teeth brushed she sat on the end of the bed. She thought she'd tempt fate and sleep in her underwear rather than her scrubs. She stripped down, pulled her ash brown hair into a ponytail and crawled under the covers. She was asleep minutes after her head hit the pillow.

Around 3:30AM she sat bolt upright in bed, wet with sweat and breathing hard. She yelled out, "Chris?!" 

~~~~~~~~~~

Christopher Dunn slid his keycard into his hotel room lock with a bit of difficulty. He'd eaten too much and had one too many whiskeys after dinner. But the frigid walk from the restaurant to the hotel had sobered him up slightly. 

He flipped on the TV and then proceeded to get ready for bed. He brushed his teeth, took his nightly medications for blood pressure, stripped naked and crawled into bed intending to watch some HBO. He knew he wouldn't be able to go home in the morning because of the storm so he thought he'd stay up and get up when he felt like it. But minutes after his head hit the pillow he was out like a light. 

Somewhere around 3:30AM Chris woke with a start and had to go the bathroom. He stood, one hand against the wall, legs straddling the toilet and let loose. He shook out the last drops and then turned to go back to bed when the pain hit. 

The pain was an incredible burning feeling shooting from both feet up to his knees. He lost his balance and then felt sick. He grabbed the shower curtain and managed to lean back over the toilet to throw up. 

Rather than feeling better after throwing up his dinner the pain increased in his legs and he got dizzier. He pitched forward and hit his forehead on the rim of the toilet and then pitched backward and lay on his back, unconscious. After a while he groaned, rolled to his side and vomited again and then lost consciousness again. 

He must have been moaning loudly, he didn't know. He just suddenly knew he was lying on the floor; naked, in his own vomit and there were people bending over him. 

"Sir? Sir? Can you hear me?"

"Uh...uh, yeah. What...?"

"Do you remember what happened? Do you know where you are?"

Chris had to think for a minute. He wasn't sure where he was or why he was laying on a floor in his current state. Then he tried to move his legs and the pain brought all the memories back. 

"Uh...I got up to go to the john and I had this pain hit my legs. I lost my balance, fell, and hit my head and uh...now you're here. That's about all I remember."

"Do you know where you're at, sir?"

It was a paramedic flashing a light in his eyes.

"Uh, the Hampton Inn in Joplin?"

"Very good. We're going to take you to the hospital. Is that okay with you?"

Chris thought for a moment and then mumbled, "Okay," as if there was any real question.

The paramedics got a collar around his neck, placed a dressing on his head injury and rolled him onto a backboard and hefted him onto the stretcher. 

Christopher Dunn was a large man. It took two paramedics and three firemen to get him on the stretcher and then all five of them to get him in the ambulance. His head throbbed, his feet and lower legs burned and he felt nauseated.

"We going to Freeman or St. John's?" Dunn half whispered to the paramedic getting settled in beside him. 

"Do you have a choice, Mr. Dunn?" 

"Yeah, let's go to St. John's please.

"St. John's it is."

~~~~~~~~~~

At a quarter to six, the phone in the executive room rang. J.T. was lying on her belly when she grabbed the phone on the third ring. "What?"

"Need you in the E.R. Head injury is on its way in," Joyce said.

J.T. sat up, brushed her bangs from her eyes. "What time is it?"

"0545. We've got 2 inches of snow already. It's coming down to beat hell."

"Do I have time to grab a shower?"

"Make it quick boss."

"Okay, see you in a bit."

~~~~~~~~~~

The ambulance bay looked like a headquarters in a war zone. The ambulance carrying Dunn threaded its way through three National Guard Humvees dropping off "critical" hospital staff. Non-critical staff got to stay home as the biggest snow storm to hit Southwest Missouri in more than 100 years got wound up. 

Joyce met the stretcher at the door of the bay and immediately gasped when she saw the patient. "Christopher Dunn! You look like shit!"

Chris twisted his head as much as he could in the restrictive cervical collar toward the voice. "You noticed that, did you Joyce? Attention to detail like that will get you promoted to vice president."

"Always the smart ass, Chris." Joyce Morgan had been Vice President of Nursing Services when Chris was Vice President of Medical Affairs. She quit her executive position to work the graveyard shift as a house supervisor. She wanted to get back to real nursing she said.

The ambulance crew and the E.R. staff heaved Dunn onto the gurney in the trauma room. Chris cried out in pain and then vomited again and started coughing uncontrollably as he choked on some of the vomit. 

Just then J.T. showed up, took in the scene and moved to the head of the gurney. "Christ! Give me a Yankauer, STAT!" She shoved the suction cannula into Chris's mouth and began suctioning out the aspirate.

She pulled back the suction cannula and looked at the lead nurse. "What's his SAT?"

"82 on two liters."

"God damn it! He's aspirated." J.T. looked at the paramedic crew still in the room. "How was his neck when you collared him?"

"I think it was okay," said the lead paramedic, "just protocol."

"Okay, let's get him out of it and set him up a little. Up the O2 to 10 liters and put him on a non- rebreather."

"SAT's coming up."

J.T. bent toward her patient for the first time and took notice of the patient's face. "Oh my god! Chris?"

"Ummmm," Chris slurred through the oxygen mask. He was dazed.

"Breathing easier, buddy?"

"Hmmmm huh." 

The paramedics gave Monroe the report of what happened. 

"Chris, is that it?"

He nodded then grimaced in pain again. 

"Get a line in him, start him on LR at 100 an hour. Give him 10mg of Compazine IM now then when you have the line in give him a 100 of Demerol and 3 of Versed IV and ship him to CAT scan with a cardiac and apnea monitor. Get a scan of his head and get a portable chest afterward."

The lead nurse who was writing down orders looked up, "Uh, J.T., he's got a head injury. You want to narc him that heavily?"

This pissed J.T. off; she exaggeratedly looked at her lab coat, "Oh shit! I forgot to wear my 'I'm a Neurosurgeon' button. I know what he's got Jennifer!" J.T. caught herself, "I'm sorry Jennifer, just do it, okay? Take some Narcan along just in case."

"Yeah, sure, J.T."

"We'll get you feeling better, Chris. Just relax."

He smiled weakly under the oxygen mask. 

J.T. pulled Joyce aside. "I want him snowed. When they get done with his CAT call me, I want to do a tap. And I don't want him to remember any of this. And would you go with him?"

Joyce looked down at the front of her uniform, "Shit, I forgot to wear my 'I'm a nursing supervisor' button."

"You know Joyce, sometime you can be such a pain in the ass."

Joyce smiled, "I have a good teacher."

"Oh, ha-ha. Uh, I got a very bad feeling about this, Joyce. I can't explain it. I, uh" she hesitated, "don't laugh, I sat bolt upright in bed in a cold sweat around 3:30 and called his name."

Joyce didn't laugh. "Oh, that's spooky. According to the paramedics that's about the time they think he fell. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking he's got Guillain Barre and on top of that he's got a helluva goose egg on his head and he's probably just picked up aspiration pneumonia.

"Where's the plasmaphoresis team?"

Joyce bent her head, "Springfield. And unless we can get a Guard unit to make the run, they aren't coming today or tomorrow."

"Oh, God," J.T. whispered and then sucked in her lower lip. This was really not going to be good.

~~~~~~~~~~

J.T. sat beside Chris's gurney in the trauma room looking out the window at the snow. It was nearly a total whiteout. 

"Hey sport," J.T. said softly as she caressed Chris's face. Chris fluttered his eyes and tried to focus on the voice. 

"J.T.?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"How...how'd I get here? What's happened?"

"Feeling any better?"

"Yeah. Though the last thing I remember is getting up in my hotel room to take a piss."

"Good. I'm glad. You came in very sick. Essentially, the story you told the paramedics was that you got up to piss and then got hit with this pain in your legs, got dizzy, fell and hit your head on the john and then upchucked.

"You were in a lot of pain and then you threw up again and aspirated. Since then, I gave you an assload of drugs, got a CAT scan of your head, a chest x-ray, and some lab work. I tapped your spine and put 15 stitches in your head. I may need to put in a burr hole later, we'll see."

"So, uh, what's the verdict? Food poisoning? Or did I just eat and drink too much last night?"

J.T. ran her hand gently over Chris's forearm and looked at the floor. "Uh, Chris, you remember when Pete Meredith got sick back along?"

Chris starred at J.T. and didn't say anything. J.T. met his gaze and she could see tears starting to well up in his eyes. "Yeah, you remember."

Chris sniffed, wiped an eye with the back of his free hand, "J.T., I remember him, vividly. Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be. I emailed your scan and lab to Bryce - you know he's still around - and he concurs. And you know for me to ask Bryce for his opinion I was desperate for an alternative diagnosis."

Chris smiled slightly, "You two still not getting along, eh?" 

"Like cats and dogs, babe."

"Well, okay, I hear you can pretty well knock Guillain Barre down with plasmaphoresis. When are you going to hook me up?"

J.T. looked pained, gripped Chris's hand, "Yeah, but the plasma team is in Springfield. By the time I can get them here, as fast as this appears to be moving, it's not going to do you a lot of good. And there's not enough immunoglobulin in house to infuse you. 

"So...we're just going to have to ride this out. I'm sorry. And keeping you out of agony is not going to be as easy as that night you saved my sorry ass."

"J.T.," Chris said gently, "uh, keeping you alive was not an easy job. You tried to fucking killing me. A couple of times."

Tears welled up in J.T.'s eyes, "You bastard, you're not going to let me forget that are you?" and she broke into a half laugh, half sob. 

"Are you kidding me?" Chris smiled. "Never."

"Well, you want me to call Michelle? Let her know what's up so she can come nurse you?"

"Uh, well, I wouldn't mind, but her lawyer would likely object. Bad divorce a year ago. I'm pretty much alone."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Hey, where's the pain now?" 

"Almost to the top of my thighs."

"You know, in a couple of hours it's likely to get your diaphragm and we'll have to tube you."

"Yeah. Uh, J.T...I'm afraid. You know what I think of intubation. I've had a phobia about that since those gas passers at KU tubed me while I was wide awake."

"I know sport. But I owe you big time. So try to relax and I'll do everything I can for you, okay? Don't be afraid. Anything major and I'll be here for you. Including when we tube you. Promise."

Chris squeezed J.T.'s hand, "Okay."

"I gotta run for a while. We're moving you to the ICU in a bit so we can monitor you." She pulled a syringe from her pocket; "Here's a little something to keep you comfortable."

Chris's eyes fluttered closed as J.T. pushed the Morphine into his IV.

~~~~~~~~~~

Guillain Barre Syndrome is an autoimmune disease. Suddenly, for reasons not clearly understood, the body's anti-bodies start stripping the protective sheathing off the nerves. It starts at the periphery of the body, most usually the feet, and works its way up the body. Then, as suddenly as it attacks, it goes away. It is rarely fatal. But its severity and duration can vary from short and very mild to long and excruciating. Fatalities are caused by complications in its severe state. 

Peter Meredith was a staff psychologist, a friend of both Dunn's and Monroe's, who contracted it five years ago. He was paralyzed from head to toe for 6 months and in excruciating pain. He was on a ventilator the entire time and almost died, twice from pneumonia, once from an infection of the sack surrounding the heart and twice from kidney dysfunction. Once he started to recover it took eight months of intensive therapy for him to learn how to walk, talk, eat, go to the bathroom and dress himself. Still after the therapy he was physically weak for another six months and suffered frequent bouts of panic attacks and deep depression. 

Peter Meredith's predicament made a huge impression on Chris Dunn. Now Dunn had it. And Dunn was frightened beyond words. 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Give me just a tad of suction just north of my knife," J.T. ordered her P.A. "There. Thank you." 

J.T. was in surgery, inside an 87 year old woman's head, going after a leaking cerebral aneurysm. 

A surgical nurse stuck her head in the operating room, "Dr. Monroe?"

"That's me," J.T. called out from behind her operating microscope.

"ICU called. Says to tell you Mr. Dunn's O2 SATS are dropping. They're at 87 right now. They said to tell you he's starting to use his accessory muscles. He's getting tired."

"Shit! It's progressing quicker than I expected. Uh, tell ICU to put him on nasal CPAP at 15 centimeters pressure with 6 liters of O2 and I'll send anesthesia down. Tell them to get ready for an emergency trach. And hey! Tell them NOT to let Mr. Dunn know what's going on; either anesthesia or I will break the news to him; he'll be frightened and upset."

The surgical nurse left to relay the orders and J.T. looked at the clock. "Uh, Khali," J.T. said to the anesthesiologist, "Damn it! We're going to be at this at least another hour. Uh, I got a problem maybe you can help me with."

"You want me to go and trach that guy?"

"Yeah, but that guy is Christopher Dunn and he's got rapid moving Guillain Barre and he's scared shitless."

"Chris? Our Chris?" 

"One and the same. I told him I'd be with him when we tubed him. And now I'm elbow deep in Mrs. Bonner's brain. He had the hots for you, as I recall. I was wondering if you could go be with him. Keep him company. Trach him if you have to but try to keep him off the vent until I can be there. Keep him comfortable, you know?"

Khali smiled under her surgical mask, "Not a problem, it will be my pleasure." She called an assistant in to take her place in the surgery and headed for the ICU. 

Khali Kumar was a stunningly beautiful Indian anesthesiologist that Christopher Dunn did indeed have the hots for. Despite both of them being happily married when he worked at the hospital they flirted shamelessly almost daily. 

When she walked into the ICU cubicle she could see Chris was struggling to breathe. His O2 level was holding at 92 percent but he was sweating profusely and breathing irregularly. She didn't know if he could wait until J.T. made it to him.

"Chris?" She ran her fingertips lightly over the side of his face. His eyes fluttered opened. "Hey, you're not doing too well, eh?"

Chris smiled weakly and affectionately and shook his head. 

"J.T. sent me to be with you until she can get here. She's in surgery." She kept slowly and gently caressing his face. 

Chris pulled the CPAP mask off and tried to take a full breath. "Khali! God, you are still a vision!"

She giggled coyly. "A vision? Not a wet dream like I used to be? I'm crushed! Hey, ummm, I'm really sorry but I don't think you're going to be able to wait for J.T. You're looking pretty bad. Your heart rate's up, you're getting very tired." Khali pulled his hospital gown to his belly and traced her fingers down his chest. "Tell me when you can't feel my fingers."

"There."

Khali's fingers were just above his navel. She turned to the ICU nurse and whispered an order. "Get me the trach tray and call ummm, Dr. Michelson STAT. Also, tell RT to get their vent in here. We need to move."

Khali put a hand gently on Chris's forehead while the other hand continued to roam lightly across his upper belly and chest. "It won't be long, Chris. Then you'll feel better, okay?"

"If you say so," he husked, trying to smile, to be brave. "I don't suppose you would let me cop a feel?"

"Why Mr. Dunn!" Khali said in mock amazement, "Just because I am caressing your chest and belly, hopefully making your body shiver with pleasure, you think you can take advantage of my sympathies? I am shocked!"

She took both hands off him for a moment and looked over her shoulder. With no one in sight she quickly reached under her scrub top and undid the front clasp of her bra. And then, as if she'd scratched her nose for a second, she laid her hands and fingertips back on Chris. 

He reached out to touch her at the waist, his fingers snaking under her scrub top and when his fingertips met the warm, soft skin of her belly he closed his eyes and appeared to be transported away.

Just then, Dr. Rick Michelson, an ear, nose and throat specialist came into the cubicle along with two nurses and a respiratory therapist pushing a ventilator. No one said a thing as Chris's hand roamed underneath Khali's top. Khali's attention was focused solely on Chris though she acknowledged the presence of the staff with a quick nod. Michelson, a droll, urbane British expatriate, stood on the other side of the patient, opposite Khali. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "You are planning on giving the poor chap anesthetic aren't you, my dear? Or is this a new form of anesthesia: allow the patient to feel your breasts and belly whilst I cut a hole in his throat?"

Khali looked up and beamed what Chris used to refer to as "the most dazzling smile he had ever seen on a woman." "Why Richard, if you had gotten me a job and put me and my children up in your house until the money started coming in and I could get a place of my own, I'd let you fondle me if you were as sick as Chris."

"Ah, so this is Mr. Dunn, the legendary former Medical Affairs V.P. that everybody's a titter about, what?" Michelson glanced at the pulse oximeter, showing Chris's oxygen saturation was headed for the 70's. "Khali, we need to do this." 




Mercies



Khali reached under her top and gently took Chris's hand that, at that moment, was pleasantly squeezing her full, left breast. "Chris? It's time," she said gently. But he didn't hear her. 

Chris was in another place. A place where the beautiful brown skinned anesthesiologist was lying on her back in a wonderfully soft bed with her legs spread and he lay on his belly between them. He could smell the jasmine scent of her skin and the aroma of salty, sweet musk. Her sex glistened in front of him, swollen, slick, inviting. Droplets of her moisture lay nestled in her fine, curly black pubic hair and shined like jewels. He bent his head down as if to drink from her. He heard her sigh, then moan and felt her body rise as his lips and tongue touched her most delicate flesh. 

"Let's get a mask on him and hyperventilate him," Khali told the nurse anesthetist that had come up from surgery to help. Khali continued to hold his hand, stroking it gently while Michelson gloved up, a nurse opened the surgical pack and the RT prepared the vent. 

"Uh, Katy, let's have 4 of Versed and then I'll give him succs and Brevital. I think J.T. probably wants him down fairly deep to start." She turned back to Chris, touching his face around the oxygen mask. "Come on Chris, we're getting ready to do this," she said louder but still reassuringly. 

In Chris's mind he had just sampled the delightful nectar of Khali's sex and was moving up her body by fingertips, lips and tongue. His nose rested in her shiny, blissfully fragrant black pubic hair for a moment before looking up her body, across the undulating plain of her belly, past the jewel she wore in her navel toward the gentle rise of her full breasts. He smiled and cocked his head so that he could see exactly how close his fingertips were in relationship to the skin of Khali's belly and down across her hip. His calculation made, he slowly, maddeningly drew his fingertips across the slight rise of her belly and down to the gentle valley between her hip and her sex. He reveled in the feel of her skin, her scent, her taste and the sounds of her quiet pleasure. 

"Katy, give me a 100 of Lidocaine. He's starting to throw PVC's. Rita, you set on the vent? He's a big guy, you might need to adjust tidal volume."

"Way ahead of you."

"I'm ready to cut whenever you're ready to induce," Michelson told Khali. 

"His SAT is stable for a moment while we hyperventilate. I'd like to have him a bit more conscious before I take him down. Is J.T. still in O.R.? Chris, can you hear me?"

Chris held himself above Khali, his cock resting on her shiny black sex hairs. They smiled at each other. He palmed one of her breasts, slowly, gently and then drew his fingers around her large chocolate brown areola, playfully pulling her nipple. He slid his hips back slightly so that his cock was now nestled inside her sex lips and poised to enter her sex. He lowered himself to her. They were, lightly, belly-to-belly, chest to breast. He softly kissed her lips and then took her mouth. She looked into his eyes and with a smile said, "Please take your pleasure in me, my lover." He entered her, reveling in the incredible slickness and wet warmth of her sex as he slowly took her, the smell of jasmine flooding his nostrils and the taste of cinnamon(?) on his lips. 

"Chris? Come on, babe? Chris, you with us?"

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle. The feel of skin against skin was almost an unbearable pleasure in itself. He felt the urgency in her hips, heard her sounds of delight. They were both close to coming. 

"Please, Chris..."

Chris opened his eyes and the visage of J.T. Monroe filled his sight. "It's time. We've got to intubate you. Don't be afraid, I'm here."

Chris smiled under the oxygen mask and closed his eyes again. 

Khali had her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips. They were coming...

"Versed and succs are on board. Inducing with 40 of Brevital," Khali intoned.

"About bloody time," Michelson said, irritated. 

Chris felt as if he were falling backwards into a warm, comforting, black velvet blanket.

And so Christopher Dunn's hospitalization began.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dunn was in the hospital for four months, all but three weeks of that time in the ICU hooked to a ventilator, paralyzed from the neck down. For a good percentage of the time he was heavily sedated and remembered very little of the agonizing ordeal. He nearly died four times: twice from irritation of his heart, once from an infection in the catheter that gave him nutrition and once from pneumonia.

J.T. visited him everyday though she was only one of six other doctors caring for him. She started to arrange her surgery and rounds so that she could bathe him in the mornings. In fact, whenever she had a free moment she was there with him. Talking to him, softly, gently encouraging him even though she knew he would not remember most of her visits. Where the nerves were not hyper raw and his skin not hypersensitive she would touch him. 

Like two years prior with her patient Brian Jenkins, she was the only one in the hospital that did not know she was hopelessly in love with him. Consequently, no one made jokes; they treated them as husband and wife. 

Clifford Bryce, J.T.'s nemesis and fellow neurosurgeon, opined after Dunn was dismissed to rehab that he thought J.T.'s loving attention might have been what ultimately saved Dunn or at least mitigated the ravages of the disease. 

Rehab lasted three months and in some respects was only slightly better than his four months in the hospital. When he graduated inpatient rehab he was sent home to continue on an outpatient basis. But with no family he had nowhere to go. J.T. offered him her house to continue his outpatient rehab. They moved in together though they slept in separate bedrooms. 

~~~~~~~~~~

J.T. knocked on Chris's bedroom door one night. Chris didn't respond so J.T. opened the door slightly, "Chris?"

Chris was sleeping partially under the covers, on his side, his back to the door. There was a book in his hand and his reading glasses were askew. J.T. hesitated for a moment and then sat down on the side of the bed. She put her hand on his shoulder and spoke his name again softly. He awoke with a start. 

"Hey, hey, it's me. It' okay." 

"Mmmm, I dozed off. Sorry," he said as he brushed sleep from his eyes.

"That's okay. I, uh, I was going to turn in early and just wanted to check and see if you needed anything."

"Uh...I'm okay, thanks. I may get up and watch a little TV. I'm feeling kind of restless."

"Okay. Why don't you let me bring you something for your nerves?"

"You're the doctor," he said with a smile. 

"That's right, I am. Be right back."

J.T. came back with a pill and a tumbler of water, dressed only in a tee shirt that barely covered her sex and ass. She sat down on the bed and handed him the pill and water. 

"Uh, Chris, how long have we known each other?" She smiled nervously and there was an edge in her voice.

"I don't know, uh, seven, eight years, why?"

She got a pained expression on her face and then just blurted it out, "Chris are you gay?" And she pulled her tee shirt off and sat nude next to him.

Chris had his mouth open. There was a long silence between them. She starred into his eyes, chewing her bottom lip and he starred at her. He was not looking into her eyes. 

"Uh, J.T., well, gee, no, I'm not. Why do ask?"

"Well, damnit! I'm told I'm a good-looking woman, we're both single, we're living together and, well, uh, damn it, you haven't hit on me! I'm feeling a little awkward. Ohhhh hell!" Tears were welling in her eyes and she started to put her tee shirt back on, fumbling with it awkwardly in her embarrassment, when he caught her arm.

"Whoa! I, uh, I'm just a little intimidated I guess. You are a good-looking woman. My god in heaven! You're beautiful. I, on the other hand, am rather average..."

"You look good to me. Of course I haven't had another human being touch me since that foursome..."

"...Oh, well thanks..."

"Chris!" She pounded her fists on top of her thighs.

Chris threw back the covers and pulled his briefs to the side allowing his erection to spring out and lay against his belly. He grabbed her by the shoulders and, with a groan in the effort, pulled her across his body and over onto her back. He quickly rolled on top of her, pinning her by her wrists. She gave a little scream and then a moan as she felt him penetrate her, his briefs riding against her clit. "Oh, dear God," she murmured as she reveled in the fullness in her cunt and his skin against her belly and breasts. She bucked her hips to rub against him. The she noticed he wasn't moving. 

"Chris?" She ran her hand over his forehead and it was wet with sweat. He was breathing hard. 

"Sorry, J.T., I'm...I'm...not quite up to leading I don't think."

"Oh, oh. Chris, Jesus, I'm so sorry." Slowly she pushed him over, off of her. She closed her eyes and silently groaned as she felt him slide out of her. 

He lay on his back now, still short of breath - but still erect. She lay on her side, a look of concern on her face. She started to say she was sorry again but he cut her off. 

"J.T., am I still erect?"

J.T. looked at his erection, bouncing slightly with his heartbeat. "Yes."

"You need a fucking engraved invitation?"

"But..."

"I'm just weak for chrissake! I want you! Come on!"

She looked at him, at his throbbing erection sticking out from his briefs; she grabbed his erection in one hand and swung her leg over him. As easily as he had entered her she sat down on him, impaling herself. Both of them gasped simultaneously at the pleasure of the mounting. 

J.T. blinked several times, put her hands gently on his chest and looked down at him. She tentatively rocked her hips. He moaned and arched to try to get deeper inside her. 

He reached up and cupped her full breasts, thumbing her nipples slowly. He trailed his fingertips down underneath her full breasts, down across the gentle swell of her belly, across her hips and back up to her breasts via the sensitive skin over her breastbone. Now it was her turn to moan. 

"Take your pleasure, J.T. I want to watch." He smiled up at her. She leaned down to kiss him gently on the forehead and then sat back, perpendicular to his body, to begin to strive for her first orgasm in over two years. 

She had a good rhythm going. She looked down at him, eyes wide, sweat forming on her forehead, her chewing her lower lip in intense concentration. "Play with my breasts," she whispered. He was only too happy to oblige. 

He felt the first small contractions of her orgasm. Her eyes seemed to widen even more than they already were and she ran her hands through her hair then dropped down over Chris with her hands on his arms. She rocked her hips one last time then held her body very still. He felt the contractions ripple through her sex and leaned up to lightly kiss her. She lowered herself onto him all the way and kissed him deeply then laid her head on his shoulder. 

Moments later she felt him shudder and then heard him sob. She lifted herself and looked at him with concern. "Christ! Are you okay, Chris? I didn't hurt you did I?" 

He smiled through his tears. "Oh, J.T., you saved me. This has all been hell on earth for me. Being in the ICU, being in rehab. Now to see your beauty and to have you laying on me - it's like I've gone to heaven."

She slowly slid off him and lay on her side, her thigh covering one of his. She kissed him gently, wiped a tear from his cheek. "I can't even begin to explain it, J.T. The horror of it all but you were there the whole time. Even when I was zoned I could sense you there. You didn't have to."

"Neither did you," she said softly. "You didn't have to keep me from shooting myself. You didn't have to keep it a secret. You didn't have to fight to get me the chairmanship of Neuro. But you did. Hey, bucko, one good turn deserves another, right?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I suppose." 

"Let me make you feel better. Don't think about the horror. Think of me." She rolled over and turned out the nightstand light then, in the darkness, she moved down his body slowly, taking him in her mouth. His orgasm came quickly. J.T. wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and slid up beside him, laying her head on his shoulder. They didn't speak. J.T. slowly played with his chest hair. 

Chris broke the silence. "Hey, J.T.?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." 

Please vote and/or send feedback or post a comment.

Thanks 



Merciful Lust



The feeling was mutual - We were both nervous as hell, but ready to take the next step. I'd been wanting to make the first move for a while, but because this was to be my first time, I had been too worried about doing it 'right'.

Shannon was the man of my dreams, he was smart, make me laugh like no one before him, he was sexy and knew the right time to be serious; something I found rather unusual for a man of his age – He was 19, and I was 18.

We took things slow, there was a lot of kissing and heavy petting, which made me want him all the more. But still we continued slowly; after all, we were both young, so there wasn't any real need to rush things.

Lying in bed with him was the highlight of my day; I loved being wrapped in his strong, caring arms. I loved the feeling of his body pressed against mine. The heat emitted form him warmed my soul, and started a fire in me which I have never before had lit.

After a few months of us only using our hands to please one another, it became time for mouths and tongues to become involved; I'll always remember the first time Shannon went down on me. We were at his place, in bed watching a movie, when I started to feel the familiar tingling between my legs. I began to shift around in my place, growing uncomfortable with the wet spot that was rapidly increasing between my thighs. 

"What's wrong?" He asked. His tone soft and soothing; it made me want him even more. I bit my bottom lip, looked down then gazed up at him, throwing my best bedroom eyes. His face lit up as if he had just won the lottery. He knew how horny I was, and with the growing bulge I could feel pushing against my leg, I could tell he was getting there too. 

"Is my baby horny?" He asked, his up tone different from normal, the soft caring tone had now become rushed and deep. 

"Yes." I giggled, laying back, "What are you going to do about it?" He smiled and lowered his lips to meet mine. As they touched I was instantly covered in goosebumps, his feather soft caresses sending bolts of electricity through my skin. I let out a deep moan as he moved his hand up under my shirt, rubbing my nipples through the fabric of my bra, which caused them to harden almost instantly. I pushed him off a bit, to remove my shirt and bra. He did the same, stripping down to his now tight boxer shorts. He stayed upright and ran his eyes over my body. He could see my chest heaving up and down; I was licking my lips and silently beckoning him towards me. He obeyed as he always does, and bent down to kiss me once more.

This time though the kiss was deeper, more passionate and desperate; our tongues met and danced together, my hand on the back of his hair, gripping a large tuft of it between my fingers, tugging on it ever-so lightly while we made out. 

After what seemed like an eternity of innocent bliss, his hand once again made its way up my body, searching out, and finding my erect nipple. He gave it a light pinch as he put his leg over mine, slowly grinding his very erect cock against my trembling leg. 

We stopped kissing as he put his head against my neck, grinding a bit harder he let out a soft moan into my ear, his hot breath filling me, claming me as it's own – Making me crave that same breath on and around my pussy. "Please...." My words were drawn out and breathless, "Go down on me." These words were like gold to him. He lifted his head up and looked me in the eye. 

"Are you sure babe?" I simply nodded; I'd known for a long time that I'd wanted his head buried between my thighs, I had just been too afraid to ask.

He began his decent by kissing down my neck, along my collarbone and over my breast. He stopped to lick, kiss and bite my nipples, helping me to become even wetter, so much so that I could feel a little dribbling down along my thigh. 

As his kisses reached my belly button, my body was full to the brim with the most intense lust and craving for sexual pleasure I had ever had, or will ever have. My clit was throbbing along to the beat of my heart, and Shannon was getting closer than ever to tasting what he does to me. As he made his way over my hip, my legs grew tense, and my knees locked. The adrenaline was now flowing thorough my body, making my heart skip several beats at a time. He could feel how overheated I was already getting, and looked up at me. "Baby, calm down." He told me with a smirk plastered across his face, "Let me actually get to your pussy before you cum." I blushed a crimson red. I was really embarrassed, but he just saw it as a sign of how much I wanted him.

With that, I smiled down at him, staring deep into his love-stricken eyes. I lay back down and put my left hand on the back of his head, urging him to continue on, which he did immediately.

I closed my eyes as his soft lips continued to caress my skin, his tongue making brief appearances along my body. As he worked lower and lower, kissing around – but not touching my pussy, I arched my back and let out a soft moan.

His kisses parted my legs, forcing them, although by magic to open for his pleasure. His tongue darted along my goosebump-covered thighs, down and across my knee. He looked up at me for a brief second, his face was flushed, and his eyes looked soft, yet deep with lust and craving for my body. As he pressed his lips back upon my thigh, he whispered "I love you," Into my soft flesh. 

The deep breaths that I was taking, now changed into words – "I love you too," was my reply. His kisses rose back up to my panty line, and his tongue writhed out from his mouth, to touch and caress my tender skin. Each stroke of his tongue sent me closer and closer to orgasm, and I knew that once his mouth was upon my wet, swollen clit, I wouldn't be able to contain myself any longer. 

As if on cue, I felt his warm, rough fingers begin to rub and stroke my pussy lips. He was getting them all wet and slippery with my juices. Teasing me, wanting me to beg him for release, I wouldn't. He continued touching my wet pussy, parting its lips and rubbing my wet slit. He ran his finger all around my clit, but never touching it. I arched my back and took in sharp breaths each time he neared, but they were all in vain.

I couldn't take this constant, cruel teasing anymore and just wanted him to make me cum. I wanted to feel his tongue probe my tight, wet, warm pussy. I wanted him to slide his fingers inside me carefully and rub my g-spot. I just wanted him to want me just as bad as I wanted him. I placed my hands over the back of his hair, and before he had time to protest, I had pushed his face firmly upon my pussy. His face was now covered in my love juices, and he was trying to push himself off – I don't think he could breathe too well.

I let him go after he pinched one of my thighs rather hard, leaving a red and bruised mark upon my porcelain skin. "What are you doing?" He asked, all out of breath.

"I'm sorry," I replied, "I just craved your tongue so badly. I needed to feel it touch my aching pussy. Lust overcame me, and I'm sorry." I thought as he propped himself up on his elbows, that he didn't want to continue. That he just wanted to leave me there panting, and slick with my own juices. 

"I know baby. I want you just as much." And with that said, he got up onto his knees, his very erect penis loving the chance to escape from the hole in his boxer shorts. It sprang out and stood at full attention; the head was purple and all shiny with his salty, pre-cum, and it was throbbing and moving around all by itself. It too was craving contact.

"Touch it for me." I asked shyly. Seeing Shannon touch himself has always been the biggest turn on for me. I loved seeing his eyes close tightly as his hand worked back and forth across his shaft. I loved the loud animalistic noises he made as he was on the brink of explosion. But most of all I loved seeing the jets of thick, white cum erupt from his quivering member. I loved seeing him jerk every last drop out, and the shudders that kept going for ages after he had climaxed.

He smiled, and permitted me to touch myself while I watched him. He moved his hand over to his cock, as he was still sitting on his knees. "Yes." He grunted as his hand first touched his shaft. Seeing and hearing this sent me into a sensory overload. 

My fingers went straight to my clit and furiously began working it hard and fast. Rubbing it in small circles, flicking and pinching it just as he instructed, my body climbed higher and higher towards its peak. He could tell I was close by the beads of sweat which were formed on my forehead, and the way I was arching my back whenever I hit that particularly sensitive spot of my clit, where it didn't have the hood covering it.

"That's it baby," He encouraged, "Cum for me bitch." His name-calling made me crazy, and he knew that. He knew how much I loved being told I was his slut. And that I was only here for nothing more than to please his every need, that I was merely something used to make him feel good.

"Who's my dirty whore?" He asked me. When I didn't reply straight away he asked me again, this time his tone was much firmer and erotic. "I said, who is my dirty whore?"

"I am." I replied, panting hard as I crept closer to climax. He smiled as he began to increase the rate of the hand moving over his cock. 

"I'm close baby." He whispered, as he tilted his head forward and thrust his hips. Daring to be bold, and not wanting that hot load to go to waste, I asked him, 

"Wanna try a sixty-nine?" Without saying a word he walked on is knees up so he was level with my face, and threw one leg over it. I could see his cock directly above my wanting mouth as he positioned himself to be able to ravish my soaking wet pussy. This time there was no teasing, no time to prepare for anything. This was unbridled passion at its finest. He dove straight in. He began lapping at my juices as I moved my hips to match his rhythm. 

I was in a daze; this was the first time anyone had ever had their head between my thighs, and I was a drooling mess. This was the best feeling I had ever had; the way his tongue moved over my clit, sending me to the brink of orgasm each time was wonderful. The way he used his fingers to fill me up just enough was divine. He knew just what to do to make my whole body tense and shake with every touch.

I opened my eyes for a second to see his hard member bobbing above my head. I hungrily took as much as I could into my mouth. Although it made me gag at first I wanted it all. I wanted to make him feel as good as he was making me feel. I used my free hand to stroke his balls, making him moan into my pussy, the vibrations tickling it greatly.

I bobbed my head back and forward on his cock, loving the taste and feel of it as it filled my mouth and throat. I could feel his balls tense in my hand as he began fucking my face. "Baby I'm gonna cum." He breathed his words into my pussy, and they made me go crazy. Thoughts of all the times I had watched and made him cum filled my head.

The familiar tingling in my clit began as I continued to think about him spurting that gorgeous cum which I was going to swallow for the first time today. 

I let go of his balls and grabbed his hips, pulling his cock fully into my mouth. I began humping his face as I pushed his cock balls-deep in and out of my mouth. 

The first wave of ecstasy washed over my body like a tidal wave hits the shore. It made my whole body numb, and seemed to take me away from myself. It released a fire upon my clit, and it didn't stop throbbing deep and hard until about ten minutes after my amazing climax had finished. 

I kept grinding my pussy against his face, as my clit became too sensitive to touch. He pulled away and climbed off me. "What are you doing?" I asked breathlessly. I was expecting to taste his delicious cum. I began to sit up when he spoke. 

"Keep your head down bitch. Today you are going to be my little cum-whore." And with that said he planted a large, soft kiss directly upon my lips. I could taste myself and I loved it. It was sweet, but kind of bitter. 

He positioned himself so he was right over my face, and began to wank again. This time he didn't start slow and gradually get faster, this time he just went for it. Wanking that cock of his as hard and fast as he could. I craved my first ever cum shower; I wanted to be covered in the white goo.

His grunts became louder and louder as he neared his peak. His hips began to move as he thrashed his head around, yearning for release. "Here it is baby." He screamed, as spurt after spurt of thick, white, creamy cum erupted all over my face. I opened my mouth to taste all that I could, but the majority of it went over my neck, cheeks and hair. My face was completely covered, and I loved every second of it.

He lay down beside me and we both took time to recover, he was shuddering and still breathing like he had just run a marathon, and I was there, scraping his jizz into my mouth with a finger. I loved the taste then, and I still do today.



Merciless



When it all began, it was more of a shock than anything. Blake spent most of his life miserable, but recently found the girl of his dreams. He was happy constantly just knowing that he was loved. The idea that someone cared for him was all he ever needed, and he finally got it. He spent every waking moment with her, maybe he did suffocate her a little, but he loved her with all of his heart. He wanted to spend every second with her, and hold her so close that she could never get away. Unfortunately irony set in, and his desire to be so close to her only pushed her farther away. She ended up leaving him, and he was heart broken and lost. He had to figure out a way to get her back, to make her see how much he loves her.

"I just can't believe she left me, after all the shit she said about us being together forever. She just up and left me, and I don't even know why," said Blake to his best friend David as they sat around playing video games at the arcade in the local mall.

"Man, it's just the way it is, there are plenty of women in the world, you'll find someone better," said David in a sympathetic voice. His words were supposed to be helpful, but instead they only burned a deeper hole in Blake's heart. Because those words were too familiar, the love of his life Rachel said those same words to him a few weeks ago.

"It doesn't matter how many women there are in the world, I only want one. She just doesn't want me, and I have no idea how to make her want me," replied Blake.

Just as he finished talking the loud speaker came on. "The mall will be closing in ten minutes," echoed through the arcade room.

"Well man, I don't know what to tell you, but we better get out of here before we get locked in," David said as he turned to walk out the door leaving his game unfinished.

When they got to the mall parking lot Blake took out a cigarette and lit it up. He took a long slow drag from it, and held the smoke in his lungs hoping that it would help calm him down. "I just don't understand why life has to be so difficult. I'd like to be a dog, that way my only worries would be where I'm going to sleep next," Blake said after exhaling the cigarette smoke.

"A dog's life isn't that easy, and if they didn't have someone to take care of them it would be a lot harder," David said trying to sound philosophical.

"I don't know, man. Well, I'm going to get the hell out of here. I'll talk to you tomorrow," Blake said as he started walking away from David.

"All right man, see ya tomorrow." David said while watching Blake walk away from him.

Blake's mind was racing, every thought from missing Rachel to eventually dying was slamming into his head like a hammer. He was on the verge of tears, but he fought to hold them back as he continued nursing on his cigarette. Suddenly He found himself walking away from his house, but he didn't really care at that moment, until he realized he was heading towards Rachel's house.

When he arrived at Rachel's house, he didn't knock or anything. He just stood there at the steps leading to her front door, staring at the place where he used to feel safe. Out of nowhere he heard voices, it sounded like a male and female laughing. So he quickly ran into the trees nearby and watched Rachel's front door from there. He didn't watch for long because maybe a minute after he hid he saw two shadow figures walking up the stairs to her front door. With only the streetlights and the moon as a source of light it was hard to make out who it was.

Then a car passed by and it's bright headlights shined right on Rachel and Thomas Ranger. He couldn't believe who she was with. He had always hated Thomas, because he was your typical follower that did whatever was cool, and had no idea of who he really was or what he really believed in. He was also very sure that Thomas was going to try and fuck Rachel tonight. He couldn't do anything though, they broke up, and that was that. So he just gave up, and started walking home.

When he got home he just flopped down face first on his bed, and wept. All he wanted to do was die that night, because the images of Thomas, and Rachel fucking were too much for him to handle. He could just picture Thomas shoving his dick into Rachel's mouth and enjoying the feeling of her soft pouty lips gliding over the smooth flesh of his stiff organ. He could hear the moans coming from Thomas' lips as he shot his sperm into Rachel's waiting mouth, and it was driving him crazy. He couldn't handle it, so he went to the medicine cabinet and took a couple sleeping pills. He wasn't aiming to kill himself, but he didn't want to be awake at the time, so he decided to go to sleep.

Blake was hoping that the sleeping pills would give him a dreamless sleep, but they didn't. That night dreams of Rachel on all fours taking Thomas' dick in her juicy pussy invaded his mind. "Oh fuck me like the dirty little whore I am!" He heard Rachel scream. "Use my body like that pussy-whipped fuck up Blake never could!" It was just a dream, but it felt extremely real. The words hurt him deeply even if Rachel didn't actually say them, just the idea that she might have was tearing him apart. He wished that he could wake up, but he couldn't.

All he could do was stare at the picture of Thomas sliding his hard shaft in and out of Rachel's tight little pussy, and hear her scream out in pleasure. The dream finally ended when Thomas' face contorted, and he moaned that he was cuming. Blake's mind was relieved for a few moments, until another dream started. This time around he could see Thomas on top of Rachel, and Rachel had her legs wrapped around Thomas' body. Rachel's beautiful C cup tits were bouncing and she was moaning all kinds of obscene words into Thomas' ear as he fucked her for all he was worth. This time around Thomas was a minute man, because he quickly yanked his meat stick out of Rachel, and shot his cum all over her flat stomach, his cum pooled in her belly button. She just giggled and stuck her finger in her belly button and started sucking the cum off of her finger. Finally after all of this took place, Blake woke up.

He couldn't get his mind off of his dreams all morning. He just kept thinking about Rachel, and Thomas. It was making him sick to his stomach, and he was truly fighting for all he was worth not to cry. After a long morning of thinking about it, he finally decided he couldn't take it, and chose to call Rachel. His plan was to call her and just bluntly ask, and that's exactly what he did.

"What? Hell no, I didn't fuck Thomas! We just sat around and had a couple drinks and talked," Rachel said in a somewhat angry voice.

"Well, what were you two doing together in the first place? You know how I feel about him," Blake replied meekly.

"It doesn't matter how you feel about him, we're not together anymore! Can you understand that? I can talk to, and hang out with anyone I want to. Don't you see that you can't control my life anymore?" Rachel replied in a seriously angry tone.

"I'm not trying to control your life, I love you. I just want to be with you, and I don't trust a guy like Thomas around you, that's all," Blake said, once again he was on the verge of tears.

"Look, I know that you love me, but would you please stop saying it all the time? It really doesn't matter if you trust Thomas or not, it's no longer your problem. Anyway, I have to go, good bye," Rachel replied in a calmer tone.

"Ok, talk to you later?" Blake asked, but he was too late, she had already hung up the phone.

After that he laid in bed for a few hours. He was about to go to take a mid-afternoon nap when David called. "Hey man, what the hell are you up to?" he asked, sounding rather excited.

"Nothing, I was about to go to sleep," Blake replied in a groggy voice.

"It's not nap time man, Thomas is down at the billiards talking shit about he fucked Rachel!" David almost yelled.

"WHAT THE FUCK??" Blake screamed, "I just talked to Rachel a couple hours ago, and she said they just talked!"

"Well one of them is lying man, cause he's saying all kinds of shit, and telling everyone what a great fuck she is," David said in defense.

"All right I'll be there in a couple minutes." Blake said, and quickly hung up the phone. He quickly put on a pair of pants, and his shoes, then he grabbed the phone, and called a cab.

When he got to the billiards he jumped out of the cab, and threw a twenty at the driver. He ran inside just in time to hear Thomas tell another group of guys about how he fucked Rachel. "Man, as soon as I got there she was slobbering all over my cock, and I was just slamming it into her mouth with all of my might. She was moaning and loving it, she even swallowed all of my cum when I shot off in her mouth, it was great! We showered together, and she fondled my balls until my cock got hard again, then she let me tit-fuck her in the shower. It was fucking awesome too, she has the most beautiful tits, they were so soft as my cock slid in between those mountains. She must use some kind of lotion because the valley between her tits was baby soft. Also, when I shot my cum on her neck, and face she smiled at me, so I knew she was loving it." Thomas said, showing how proud of himself he was.

Blake had heard enough, and started walking towards Thomas. When he reached him, he didn't even think, he just punched Thomas in the back of the head with all the strength he had in him. Thomas immediately hit the floor, and Blake just started kicking him. "You fucked her, huh? You're real fucking proud of yourself aren't you, motherfucker!" Blake yelled in total rage as he kicked, and spat at Thomas. He continued to kick Thomas a few more times, until the owner of the Billiards came out from the back, and grabbed him. Blake continued kicking at Thomas as the owner dragged him outside.

"Don't ever let me catch you in here again, you punk!" the owner yelled. Blake got up, and brushed off his clothes.

"Fuck you! That place sucks anyway," he said as he turned to go back to his house.

While he was walking home, he planned to call up Rachel, and accuse her of being the lying slut that she is. When he got home, there was a note in the door. He opened it, and began to cry as he read:

"Yeah, I did fuck him, and he was a great lover. He was so much better than you, I don't know why I even wasted my time on a simple fuck like you. His cock is nine inches long, and you know that it's much bigger than that little six inch toothpick you call a dick."

Pain, and anger mixed inside of Blake made him reply with a short phone call. "Hello?" Rachel answered.

"I hope you two are very fucking happy together, just don't come running back to me when you need someone," Blake said angrily, and hung up the phone.

After that, he spent months locked away in his house, only coming out to buy groceries, and sometimes to rent videos. He hadn't spoken to Rachel in well over three months, and he hadn't spoken to another women since her. He was lonely, but he loved Rachel, and Rachel hated him, so he just couldn't win. After the fourth month since they stopped talking, Blake found a note in his door, he knew who it was from, but he chose not to read it. The following week there was another note, and again he didn't read it. Until finally the third week, and the third note, he decided to read them all. Rachel was asking for him back, he was getting what he waited, and waited for.

He didn't reply though, instead he went to the bank, and emptied his life savings. He also bought a used car for fifteen-hundred dollars, and disappeared. Rachel, David, and Thomas all had no idea where he was, but only Rachel and David were concerned. Until a month after he disappeared, When Rachel got a letter in the mail that simply read:

"let me take you around the town and show you how I've survived this long let me take you for a coffee break because it's been all wrong you're making a huge mistake I can't stand to see you sitting there all alone please just let me take you home I've heard him tell you excuses, but they're really lies he is the type of guy I truly despise so please let me show you a different side of life let me show you both of my faces and shed my skin just grant me one perfect night and you'll never hear from me again I've been watching you for so long, and I can no longer wait it kills me to see him stand you up for every date just let me take you out, just let me make you smile just give me the chance to pull you away from him for a while please would you look into my eyes and just give me this chance he doesn't have to know, because it's a special circumstance I need you for me, and you need me for you I'm telling you that it's all there is to do let me take you and show you the world through my eyes just please would you give me this? let me show you that I won't break a single promise just give me this chance and I'll love you forever just give me one second of your life and we'll always be together.

Sincerely, Blake"

The letter put a smile on Rachel's face, and they started writing each other every day. Blake is still far away, and they're not technically a couple, but you never know what will happen tomorrow. They could end up living happily ever after. After all, that's the beauty of life, you never know what will happen, but you'll always have that second chance.



Merciless Hospital



"911 Dispatch, what is your emergency?" The operator looked at the caller I.D. box documenting the address and phone number. She typed it in her service call on her computer with the nimble fingers of an expert call taker. Her voice was calm and smooth. Carla Wiggins was trained to listen to every detail of a call and this one was no different than the last or so she believed. 

"He-hello, I need help. I would like to report an assault please. Send the ambulance and the police, please quickly," the rasping female voice caught Carla's attention. It was as if the lady was whispering but there was something else that she could not place. 

Carla responded to the caller, "Okay Ma'am, I need for you to please speak up. I can barely hear you. If you are hurt mash the button on the phone one time please." The ominous sound of the one beep came across loud and clear. However, before Carla finished typing the call into her C.A.D. {Computer Automated Dispatch} screen, she checked to confirm the location. The address was none other than the Mercy Mental Hospital, located at 4481 Merchant Ln. It was then she heard the woman's voice scream into the other end of the receiver. 

"It's too late! They found me bitch! I needed help for real, please send help here!" The phone then went silent but the actual woman's voice reverberated in Carla's head. Chills went up Carla's spine and goose bumps rose all over her arms at the desperation of the woman's voice. The voice was panicked with a far too real sense of urgency. Carla mashed her service light this signal of a flashing booth meant that she needed a break from handling calls at the moment. A supervisor would come over assess Carla's stress level, replace her call booth with a capable replacement for a fifteen to twenty minute rest from call taking. 

Brenda walked over to Carla's booth and asked, "What's up?" 

Carla exasperated looked up at Brenda then explained, "That's the second time I have received the Mercy Mental Hospital call this week. Why does it always seem to be me they call? This time it sounded so real. I mean look at me," Carla held her hand out in front of her level and parallel to the floor showing Brenda how bad she was shaking. Carla's hand was truly trembling everywhere. Brenda nodded then looked into her subordinates eyes seeing the welling up of tears in Carla's eyes. 

Brenda said, "Oh, I understand Carla. Take a break. Go have you one or two cigarettes. I will be out in a minute to join you." Brenda then waved at her reliever of the day for her shift. Carla's place was taken quickly. 

Outside Carla sat at a picnic table designated for the smokers. It was a slight cool, fall day with the wind blowing in off the ocean, making it even cooler. Brenda then walked out beside her subordinate. Brenda had an easy smile and a motherly feel. Brenda had quit smoking years ago because she found out she had a spot on her lung. The fear of cancer, being a single mother of two, and the cost of the cigarettes increasing, made up her mind quickly. Quietly Brenda stood there as if knowing to be silent, letting Carla gathers her thoughts. 

Carla had a cigarette lit. Carla was sitting at the picnic table taking a drag slow and deep. She spoke out loud knowing Brenda had walked up. "I mean, I know it's a mental facility but I was wondering how real that woman sounded. It made the hairs on my arms stand up. I had goose bumps everywhere, Brenda. It was so real to me. What if she did need help? What if she did need the police and an ambulance like she requested?" 

Brenda stood silent for a few more seconds waiting then said, "I know Carla. I know it seemed real but she was in a hospital baby. Patients or mental patients, I should say are not allowed to use the phones there. We are not allowed to send anyone out to those facilities unless a doctor or their security police calls, you know that. It's protocol. If that was the case the mental patients would call us every single day for silly things. They are their own little world out there baby. It's just the way it is." 

At Mercy Mental Hospital, Dr. Leroy Simmons, was strapping the patient in. The patient in question was me. I am Monica Gerald. I have blonde hair, green eyes, fair skin, and I am another doctor's wife, before coming here that is. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. I am not a mental patient at all. I found out my husband was cheating on me. I located an attorney who is a local good ole boy. He happened to know my husband. Before I could pay the man a retainer, I was inside the mental ward. I supposedly tried to commit suicide. My caring, loving husband signed the committal papers to have me placed inside until he could secure his money and his lover. Dr. Henry Gerald, my husband, is a cardiologist. Henry knows just about everyone in our small town. He plays golf with the Chief of Police and the Mayor. 

I was placed inside of Mercy Mental Hospital to keep me quiet. I was to experience severe pain during my stay and please other men, during the process. I was to become a whore for this shitty, little, backwoods town. Oh, I fought the bastards. It lasted all of two hours. I will endeavor to explain in detail, the first night I came in. 

It was a rainy afternoon when I followed my husband to the emergency procedure that he was called away to. I did not trust a private detective. So I followed Henry, in the rental Chevrolet station wagon from Hertz, to the Motel 6. That is where Henry would rendezvous with his lover. No emergency existed except, for the one in his trousers. I got great video documentation and proof with the credit card receipts of the dates with times. Henry thought I was just a dumb blonde without knowledge of how to do things. Henry forgot that I was on scholarship for a law firm which was very lucrative in my home town. Unfortunately, I trusted the lawyer from Henry's home town and not my own. 

I am a sexy blonde with emerald green eyes, a tight little body of one hundred nine pounds, and I am only five one. I have 34 inch B-sized cup breasts which are sensitive to the touch. I am what most men call fun sized. I have been with just about every type of male on the planet from Blacks, Hispanics, Orientals, Arabs, and Whites during my youth as an experimenter during college. I had good and bad, fat and skinny, muscled up and flabby, of every race. So I just consider the person behind the cock. I believe if a man is handsome, decent, with no lies or deceit, loves me first, and making me a priority well, then that is perfect for me. 

Getting back to the story, the reason I married Henry was he swept me off of my feet. He seemed centered, was an excellent lover, pre-med student, with a genuine love for me. Little did I know that, he had an obsession and it was never love? I was his hobby. I had no idea that he was there the night I was being fucked by several guys from the college football team. I along with two of my girlfriends, Tina and Jennifer, were entertainment after the big win. Henry was there that night watching, becoming fixated with my talents. He watched as I was on my knees, sucking Treyvon's big black cock and Jeb, a huge white linebacker, was hammering my asshole for all he was worth. In all, I believe the team ran a train on us for about four hours. 

It was a Saturday evening so, no school on Sunday. It was always the wildest fun on college campuses everywhere on Saturdays. I didn't ever remember my husband taking his turn on me that night, but I could be mistaken, because everything was fuzzy. I just remember taking the morning after pill, to make sure I wasn't with child. Most of us college girls did that after a really wild Saturday night. Any ways, the next week is when Henry began trying to court me. He knew where I had been and it had no effect on him. I felt he was kind of strange because most guys stayed away from girls like us, except on party nights. Henry didn't even seem to care. 

That is how we met. Now, after letting the cat out of the bag almost eight years later, I was being transported via a police cruiser to the Mercy Mental Hospital. The committal papers were signed. Therefore, pending an evaluation, I was to remain in custody of said facility. I would remain until I was no longer deemed a threat to anyone else or myself. The good husband, Mr. Henry Gerald, excuse me, Dr. Gerald, would make sure his little wife was well taken care of. 

I would like to explain that as the years went by my husband became more fixated with Bondage and Discipline. He enjoyed using my body, while I was tied, helplessly unable to move. He would also bring friends, just like in my college days, and they would use my body as a dispenser for cum. I thoroughly enjoyed it. I loved the orgasms. I enjoyed the different feeling of being spanked, whipped, or flogged by a leather whip with over thirty tiny leather strips on the end. I learned to enjoy Spider Gags, Violet wands, and spreader bars. I learned to be uncomfortably placed kneeling on the wide bench with my arms tied to the front legs leaving my ass exposed in an offset doggy style position where any man or woman could fuck either my pussy hole or asshole with a dildo, cock, or strap-on. 

When I arrived at the hospital, I found the Head Doctor, Dr. Leroy Simmons, there waiting with two orderlies. I was amazed at the troubled lengths my husband went through to hide the fact that I was going to divorce him, no matter what he did to me. It turns out; I had need of a whole lot more time because, I would be staying at Merciless Hospital for a long stay. 

The night I arrived, I was placed in a holding cell with grey walls made of plain cinderblock a metal door appeared to be the same grey drab color, a small cot with a thin cushion, and one blanket to cover up with was all I was given. I noticed the lights were imbedded into the ceiling with some type of wired cage covering it. I was too short to try and reach the lights anyways. I remember when they placed me inside the room with my struggling one of the big orderlies grabbed me holding my arms by my side. I felt the syringe enter my buttocks and I went limp as a dishrag. 

The funny thing is I could still hear everything around me for about the next seven or eight minutes. I overheard the man holding me say, "Damn Doc, this is a fine piece of real estate. I sure am going to enjoy breaking this one in. I mean look at her sexy tight little ass." 

I overheard the Doctor Simmons respond, "Don't touch her until I find out what Dr. Gerald wants us to do with her. Hey, I mean that. I do not want anyone touching her yet. Just place her in the holding cell until the morning." 

I was carried as if like nothing then placed onto a rolling table as the two orderlies; both men took me to my room. I felt them remove my clothes, examine my nakedness, and feel my body parts. The two began laughing like two infantile morons. I felt so helpless. I so needed to get out of that place. I thought, just before I went out completely, that I was happy I hid the video flash card in a safe place. I remembered I placed it in my shift robe inside one of my old hand purses. I made sure it was on the very bottom of all the other purses, hidden where no one could find it, unless they knew where it was. 

I woke up with the worst throbbing headache of my life. My head was pounding with any little noise and my mouth was dry as cotton. I wanted to get some water so bad. I tried to stand but the room started spinning. I fell back onto the tiny little bed. I decided to just lay there for a few more minutes, before attempting to stand again. My entire body felt weak but my vision was fine. It was strange the way I felt. I thought perhaps it was the drug they administered the night before had my equilibrium off. I managed to use my senses to smell, see, and hear the entire encompassed area. Like I understood, this was a mental hospital but inside the locked cell there wasn't so much as a toilet or a sink even. I was there with just the bed and the blanket. I looked to check out the bed it was bolted to the floor which was cold cement covered with the same drab grey coating for paint. 

I listened to the sounds and in the distance I heard voices which seemed faint and far off. Then I heard moans as if something were hurting or perhaps a woman in the throes of an orgasm. I continued to listen even more carefully and it was so clear to me whoever she was happened to be thoroughly enjoying her time here. I became worried. I was mistakenly placed here correct? They would allow me to make at least one phone call and I could call my, my, wait. Who would I call? My husband placed me here. I have been living estranged from my parents isolated so to speak because of my wicked lifestyle. I mean Pop was a preacher and Mom, the Preacher's wife. When they found out I was a whore in college. They excommunicated me. 

I being an only child would have to call on my cousin Johnny. He was a pervert and always wanted to fuck me. He was my Dads brother's son, John Sr. Johnny being the junior was always infatuated with trying to see me naked or kissing me. He once grabbed my whole ass when he was lifting me out of the swimming pool copping a good feel. It felt good, I recalled turning and saying something like, "Damn, Johnny too bad you're kin because that felt truly delicious." 

He smiled and said, "Well hey, what they won't know, won't hurt them." 

Johnny was serious and I understood that. So I discontinued the conversation because although he was very handsome, I needed to remind myself he was kin. If I called on Johnny it would be difficult to ever live this down. However, it was better than staying in here locked up for no reason. They would have to eventually allow me to leave. 

When the orderlies came and got me I was prepared to fight them. The two were huge strong men with biceps like steel and huge guns as my ex-linebacker lover used to say. Damn, I missed his cock badly. In every girls mind there is one guy who makes her weak in the knees mine was the linebacker Deveraux. Jason Deveraux, a Cajun with a massive nine inch penis that he could use to open doors with. Damn! He was the fuck of the century. Yeah, he was the one that got away from me. He enjoyed fucking me. He had even told me how much he loved my sex and little body too. Jason was a Master craftsman with his tool. Little did I know what my husband Dr. Henry Gerald would teach me here at Merciless Hospital? 

I was taken from that tiny holding cell and walked down a long hallway. I was still kind of out of it merely walking in an almost zombie-like fashion. One orderly was in front of me the other behind me. I felt the constant touching from either one or the other urging me towards a set of double doors. I was trying to get my bearings and passed a little sign on a wall which had a legend beside it. I was too bleary eyed to read it good but understood we were heading to F-ward. Once I entered, I began to fight. 

The single most scariest thing in the world is that of the unknown, wouldn't you agree? I was terrified because right as I entered F-ward (also known as the Fuck ward) I noticed it was completely clean immaculately so. I too noticed all the naked young women tied, with collars on like pets, or wearing obscenely gross metal gags with access to their mouths which I knew to be the infamous spider gags made of stainless steel. In the distance, I noticed my masochistic husband speaking with the good Dr. Simmons. Both turned looking at me at the same time as I was walked in by the two orderlies. 

I never said a word. I reached up grabbing a hand full of hair attached to the guy in front of me. I began an onslaught of kicks, punches, gouges, bites, and scratches. The orderly behind me wasn't expecting the total transformation of my docile self to this instant hellion. Surprised he stood still until I turned kicking him square in his balls. He crumpled to the ground as I tried to make a run for it anywhere. I ran back out the door where we had come from towards the corridor where the map and legend were. I heard Dr. Simmons and my husband call my name as I ran towards the corner where I remembered it to be. 

I used the map to find the phones and nursing station. I dialed 911 and received the dispatcher an obvious idiot. I tried to ask for help. Instantly, the lady asked too many questions I could hear them searching for me. I squirmed under a desk and tried to be inconspicuous but the red light on the phone was flashing. The dispatcher was asking too many questions frustrated I cursed her. I called her a bitch because to me I needed help but right when I looked up I was being punched in the face. Blackness was all I remember. 

When I woke up later I was completely naked with a spider gag in my mouth. My tongue was dry. My eyes were open now with a bright light in my face. Two weights dangled from my nipples which had clamps attached to them. I was tied with a plug inside my asshole. Also an awkward machine with a huge rubber cock on a piston with a motor attachment was lined in front of my sex. The head of the rubber dong was a mere inch away from my entrance. 

I realized my predicament. Tears began falling, I tried to speak but then I heard my husband's laughter and decided begging was beneath me. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. I decided to endure, be strong, and weather the storm. I have been fucked before. I have never been tortured to the extreme but I planned on sacrificing my body for the greater good. Pay back was going to be a bitch. I was merely going to survive through whatever they had planned for me. I knew I was going to be fucked hard by the looks and size of the orderlies. The truth is I pissed them off when I took them both out. They were trained staff used to fighting but I surprised them both as complacent as they were. I thought to myself I lost the element of surprise now. My mind was constantly thinking. 

"Dr. Gerald, would you have any words for your lovely wife before we use her body?" Dr. Simmons stated out loud arrogantly. He reminded me of the straight "A" prick in high school that knew all the answers and would jerk off looking at lingerie models in a Sears catalog. He was a scrawny asshole, short, goofy, who still had greasy brown hair and wore wire rimmed glasses. His breath stunk because he never brushed his teeth, he had bad sweat spots still under his arms, and he always looked unkempt. 

My dear husband stepped up right in front of me with a smile across his face as if he'd won. He looked me in my face and spit into my open mouth. "Honey, I so hope you enjoy the fucking they are going to put on you. I am having my own video tape recording of it. See this machine it is going to fuck you to a delicious orgasm again and again until you are going to be raw from having orgasms. I loved sharing you all these years but it has come to this. You should have not tried to divorce me and ruin me bitch. Now you will learn discipline the hard way. No worries, Dr. Simmons will take care of you? He thinks you're sexy and so does his help. Enjoy the fun my sweet precious wife. I will enjoy the tape. Oh, and remember my dear what doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger." 

I tried to say fuck you but the spider gag wouldn't allow my mouth to say anything it came out like a moan instead. I thus began the journey as the engine cranked up and the piston like machine was scooted closer. I watched one of the orderlies place a huge gob of lubricant on the end of the rubber cock. I felt it enter me at first gently in and out, in and out. The feeling was not too bad and I relaxed as I began enjoying the feel. I felt the orderly move or adjust the machine the piston like action increased and went even deeper inside of me. I began moaning softly at first as my mouth was drooling and dribbling.