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Chapter 1: The Cuckhold “Ugh, Charles. What the fuck are YOU doing back this early”, Callie said breathlessly as she looked at him with disgust. She was straddling a big muscular dude reverse cowboy so she was facing the door. He could see she was sweaty and her pussy was red and dripping around his huge rock hard cock. He had come home and heard her moaning loudly in his bedroom. They were on his bed. His sheets. A picture of him and her together taken last summer on the nightstand. “Oh my… oh god… Cass… I …oh GOD!” he stammered, in shock, tears coming to his eyes. “Oh shut the fuck up!... ugh!”, she said as she she slid him out of her and sat on the bed beside the guy. “Another fucking ruined orgasm because of YOU!”. “Get the fuck out. I’m busy here.”, she rubbed the guys rock hard 9” cock as she said this. “Go stay in a hotel tonight!”. The look of distain on her face hit him in the gut. “But… It’s my apartment..”, he spit out. “Jesus, do want me to get Dan here to fuckin throw you out?!”, she spit. “GO!”. The “dude” was laying there with a wet throbbing hardon, looking at him with an expression that said, “Try me, pussy”. He turned around and stumbled out of the apartment building and down to the parking lot crying. He started his car and drove aimlessly until he pulled into the nearest shitty low budget motel. He sat in his car in the motel parking lot weeping. ---- He checked into his room and laid on the bed in the fetal position. He got under the covers and set his alarm for work tomorrow. He was crying. The scene played out over and over in his head. He thought about how their relationship had deteriorated over the last year and how she had become more and more mean and dismissive of him. She kept reminding him how she was out of his league and how he was lucky she ever talked to him. He felt like such a loser. He didn’t do anything!! He just rolled over like a wimpy little cuck. Let Dan continue fucking her in HIS bed…. Oh god… he cried about what a loser he was. Then his mind wandered. He pictured her sweaty and writhing, riding his big cock, until she came to a screaming orgasm – something he had not been able to do for her for the last year with his pathetic little 3” micro-penis. He masturbated his little cucked baby dick furiously in the fetal position picturing this until he jizzed all over himself and fell a sleep in the seedy hotel bed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 2 – The “Problem” When he woke up the next morning and felt all clammy and caught a strong wiff of pee smell all around him Oh shit!. WTF??? He had pissed the hotel bed in his sleep. He realized the maid was knocking at the door and he was an hour late for work… the alarm was beeping but he didn’t hear it. “Clean the room, Sir?”, the maid said through the door. He was panicking. “OK…. Uhm, ahh, please give me another half hour please!”, he yelled. He stood there horrified. The events of last night came back to him. He felt like such a pathetic little man-boy. “oh God…”, the thought. He jumped into the shower and got ready for work… he didn’t want to check out as he didn’t know if he’d be going home tonight or not. His mind told him “It’s “Dan’s” house now you little cuck loser. He would just have to leave the wet sheets for the maid and hope she wasn’t around when he got back from work so he wouldn’t have to feel the shame. --- He couldn’t concentrate on work. He was at his desk just replaying everything that had happened in the last 12 hrs. His life had been turned upside-down. What the hell was he going to do? It was completely fucked. His mind was a jumble. His phone rang suddenly. He felt a squirt of pee shoot into his briefs. “Oh my god, no…” he thought. He answered,… it was his boss asking him to come into his office immediately . He nervously walked to the bosses office hoping that his briefs had absorbed the pee and that none could be seen on the front of his tan kakis … he’d been wearing the same cloths since yesterday as well and he thought he could sense that everyone noticed. Charlene, the bosses secretary looked at him with distain as he approached. “He’ll see you now”. She looked him up and down and he felt his baby dick shrink further into his belly at her disgust at his pathetic-ness. He walked into his bosses office. “Look Andrews”, he said sourly, “An hour late?... pfft… You know I’d LOVE to fire you, right?... PLEASE give me one more excuse”. He stood their being berated for the next 5 minutes. Drifting off and thinking about the events of last night. “Are you listening?!?”, his boss raised his voice sharply. He started. He felt a small amount of poop slip out of his asshole and lodge itself between his cheeks. “Oh Jesus Christ”, he thought, panicking. “Ok, uhm Dean, I’m super sorry…. Uh I have a teams meeting in 3 minutes… uh.. I have to go.”, he stammered. He slipped out of the office quickly his boss exclaiming surprisedly…. He made his way to the men’s bathroom, trying to clench his butt cheeks together. He ran into a stall and pulled his pants down … his knees trembling together, little dick trembling between his skinny legs. He grabbed some toilet paper and wiped up the poo between his bum cheeks… it had already stained his briefs and he hoped no one would notice the smell. He sat down on the toilet, his head in his hands and wondered what the hell was going on ?... How could his life get any worse? Just then, his phone dinged with a text, he squealed a bit with a girly noise, a bit more poo dropped into the toilet. It was a text from Cassie. “Hey. I’m gonna move in with Dan now, obviously. I need the apartment for a couple more days. I’m away this afternoon… you can come by and get some stuff then. I’m taking your TV, stereo and bed with me. Please be gone when I get back tonight. Also Dan fucked me so hard I think it started my period!... I need you to go pick me up some tampons and leave them here for me on the counter.” She accompanied this with a selfie photo of her and Dan naked in his bed. She was rubbing Charles’s toothbrush on Dan’s wet dick… getting his cum all over it. Charles’s little pathetic dick got hard seeing this and he felt completely humiliated. He snuck out of work early and headed to the CVS to get Cassie’s tampons before heading home.

# Preface This is a completely shameless self-insert story. I used to write stories for other ABDLs in a setting called "The Adult Baby Research Institute". ABys would find my stories on Tumblr, and if they were smart/brave, they would message me and I would make them fill out an "intake survey". After that there would be an in depth interview and I would craft them a very pervy story. The setting was a fictional asylum / kinky medical facility staffed by caring sadists. Unfortunately all the content was lost during the great tumblr purge. It was a lot of fun. But now I've decided it's my turn for a stay at this fictional asylum. This is an intense story with dark themes of intense masochism. It's all about turning everything to 11 and getting too much of good and bad things. This deals with themes of heavy duty ABDL, infantilism, sissification, gender fuckery, sadism/masochism, torture, medical fetishism, dental fetishism, force feeding, messing and more. This story is not written for everyone, and I don't blame you if you want to nope out. Any time a chapter deals with an edgy theme in detail it will be called out at the start so you know what you're about to get into. This is a hard story. If you're looking for a feel-good story, you may want to skip this one. There will be some feel good moments, but they'll be interspersed with sessions of deep sadistic torture, painful humiliation, and extreme sissification and babification. This is a sissy story. I'm keenly aware of the link to that as a fetish and misogyny. While I'm hoping that the gender fuckery is deep, I'm also trying to ensure that it isn't deeply misogynistic. I'm not perfect, so if you feel I missed the mark somewhere I'd love to hear about it and understand if you're willing to share your thoughts. # Day 1 Saturday ## Chapter 1 I sat nervously in the back seat in the middle of the van. I was enveloped by the pink PVC padded seat while a 5 point harness pinned me down. Even sitting down in the seat, my pink frilly and lacy dress wasn't covering my thick disposable diaper. It didn't help that my legs were spread wide with a spreader bar attached to the pink patent leather ankle restraints that matched my Mary Jane flats. My matching wrist restraints were clipped to the side of the car seat, not that I could do much with my hands since they were trapped in pink fingerless mittens. I was sucking on a big pink pacifier gag, it's straps circling my head. "I'd like a cheeseburger happy meal with yoghurt, apple slices and an apple juice... and a McChicken meal with coke and fries." That was Cloudy, my wife, my caregiver and the love of my life. I was pretty sure she was getting the McChicken, coke and fries from the drive through. Yuck. Sounds like the rest of that was for me. I hated process cheese... and yoghurt... and apples! "That's $19.59, 2nd window please!" "Mmmmmm ... McDonalds! Your favourite!" Cloudy smiled, knowing that while it was a guilty pleasure, it most certainly wasn't my favourite. "I wonder if the McDonalds worker will see you? Will they recognize you?" I was so mortified as we drove up to the pickup window. Luckily the worker wasn't in my eye-line but how much did they see of me? Cloudy continued, "They told me to make sure to bring a snack, because they aren't sure how long we're going to need to wait in the waiting room." The rest of the drive was uneventful as we went across town, then just outside of city limits up to a nondescript building. There was a smattering of cars parked here and there but it was otherwise a quiet summer afternoon. Cloudy parked the van in the back of the lot and cortisol flooded my system. I was going to have to cross this parking lot dressed up like a baby girl. She turned off the ignition, turned around in her seat and saw the look of dread on my face. "It's okay sweety. No one will know you're really a boy under there!" She smiled, and then unbuckled her seatbelt and got out. "Ok, lets get you out of there." Cloudy sighed as she opened the van door, unclipped my restrains from the seat, and unfastened the unnaturally tight restraint belt. "Get your dolly and your sippy cup!" I struggled to grab the sippy cup and doll with my mittened hands. Cloudy made a show of impatience before tucking the dolly under my arms and grabbing the sippy cup herself. She attached a leash to my leather reins, before grabbing our meals and a large pink diaper bag. She stuffed the sippy cup in a side pocket of the diaper bag, shut the door and started walking to the front door, dragging me behind her. With my ankles still attached to the spreader bar I was struggling to keep up to her brisk pace. We finally got to the door and Cloudy held the door open for me while I walked through into a tiny vestibule. On the other side was a thick windowless door with a heavy handle. Cloudy went to an intercom unit off to the side and pressed a button. "Hello, we're here for our appointment?" Cloudy said tentatively into the unit. "Name?" "Becky, it's for 1:15" "Perfect, come right in." Said the woman on the other side of the intercom. The door buzzed, and Cloudy hefted the heavy door open. "In you go sweety!" Cloudy gestured, and I waddled through into the brightly lit room not knowing what to expect. "You must be Becky" giggled a woman behind the desk, her coworker let out a wry smile. Both of them were dressed in colourful nurses scrubs. "You and your mommy can wait over there." The woman behind the desk gestured at the small waiting area with some chairs. Cloudy took me over and sat me down on a low chair next to a table full of baby toys. Cloudy sat down beside me on a comfortable adult chair and pulled out the food. She filled my sippy cup full of apple juice and passed it over to me. With my hands in the gloves it was hard to get and I dropped my dolly on the floor. Just then the door buzzed, and a tall distinguished gentleman with silver hair and a short silver beard walked through. "Hello Sir" both of the ladies behind the desk called out. "Good afternoon!" He replied in a singsong voice. He turned over to me and smiled. "Whoops, it looks like you dropped your dolly little one." he smiled. I was petrified. He scooped the doll up, winked at me and put my dolly in a toy high chair on the table. "There. That's the perfect place for him isn't it?" He winked again, before looking up at Cloudy and offering his hand for an introduction. My dolly certainly didn't look like a 'him'. "It's a pleasure to see you again my dear. Thank you for agreeing to do this for us." The Director said to Cloudy. "You're welcome." She smiled. "I'll see you both once everything is ready." he said with a grin and away he went, behind the desk and down a long hallway humming to himself. Cloudy unwrapped the cheeseburger and set it down on the table, following up with the bag full of apple slices and the squeeze tube of yogurt. I wrinkled my nose. None of that looked appetizing, and I wasn't sure how I was going to eat it with these mittens on my hand—much less the pacifier gag in my mouth. I just idly busied my self with the bead maze and busy board. "Eat your lunch Becky, it's getting cold." I looked back at Cloudy with a look of "just how exactly?" "I see fussy eating is one of the treatments listed for Becky" one of the ladies behind the desk said. "We can start treatment on that right away. It will be good for her to get some food in her belly before we go over the full treatment plan." She came over, pulling some thick metal clips out of the pocket of her scrubs. She deftly attached them to my restraints and then restrained my hands and ankles to the chair. She gripped my chin in her hand. "Your mommy and I are going to fix you your food, we'll be right back. Don't be scared sweety, okay?" I looked up and nodded. What did Cloudy get me into? "Hi Cloudy, my name is Christine, and I'll be one of Beckys primary nurse caretakers." She offered her hand to Cloudy. "Shall we get this little ones food ready?" "Sure, okay" Christine scooped up the meal and put it back into the bag—even the sippy cup full of apple juice. The two of them walked down the same hallway. I could hear their conversation slowly drift as they walked away. "Her obedience is also on the treatment plan." "Well, it's not like he could eat with that pacifier in his mouth..." "That doesn't really matter, she barely even tried! A good baby slave would have found a way to at least gotten some yoghurt down. She just stared at her meal." Christine retorted with a smile in her voice. "I noticed that you use he/him pronouns, but she is very clearly dressed like a girl. " "Yeah, I have a hard time thinking of him ... i mean... her.. i mean... " "It's alright. What are they comfortable with?" "I'm really not sure, he says he wants to be referred to as he/him, but sometimes I wonder. And when he is dressed like this, I know he would rather be she." "Well, the good news is that as part of the gender treatment plan we will be exploring that and will help you get to the bottom of it." "Oh..." Cloudy trailed off "Don't worry, you're an integral part of the treatment plan as well." I strained to hear the conversation. It sounded like they had gone to another room, and there was the sounds of banging. Like some kind of equipment was being set up. "What's involved in that treatment?" Just then there was a high pitched whirring sound from the room where Cloudy and Christine were. I could hear them both speaking, but couldn't make out the words. Finally it stopped. "There, we'll pour that in there. And now the burger." Again there was the whirring sound. I knew what was going on. My food was getting blended together and I was going to be eating that cheeseburger whether I wanted to or not. It stopped and I could hear their voices again. "Eeeww gross!" "Hmmm, too far you think? You're the boss, for now. But if she was my charge—and she will be soon—this would all be mixed together. Yoghurt, burger, apples and all. And I would make sure that it was thinned out with formula too!" I shuddered in a combination of anticipation and fear. At the time I didn't realize how often that feeling would hold over the course of my stay. "The selection of formulas we have available...Wow! Everyone here at the institute have tried them, and some are easier to choke down than others." I could hear them coming back, the sound of wheels on the linoleum floor trailing with them. Christine was pulling along an IV stand with her, a pair of large bags hanging from them. An unappetizing brownish grey mixture in one, and a slightly pinkish one in the other. "If you wouldn't mind taking off the pacifier gag we'll get this proper feeding gag in place and someone can have all their lunch they so rudely refused to eat!" Cloudy walked behind me, unbuckling the strap to my pacifier gag. Meanwhile Christine was putting on a pink silicone bib that said "Messy sissy" in big bold letters. Cloudy pulled the pacifier out and strands of drool spilled out into the bib and before I could even take a full breath, the thick feeding gag was stuck in my mouth and buckled in place. "Now, burger first, and then your apple yoghurt desert." Christine said, as she lowered the IV stand, letting me have a good look at the greyish brown bag. I could see little flecks of orange process cheese. "Cloudy told me just how much you love cheese, so I made sure to add some extra." I did love cheese, but I hated the taste of process cheese. Couldn't stand it. Christine released the clamp on the bag, and I watched as the sludge slowly crawled down the tube, little orange cheese flecks and all. "This might be the best meal you will have all week, so enjoy it!" All week? I thought to myself. The smell of it hit before the taste. The burger was blended with apple juice. The sweet of the process cheese and apple juice contrasting with the bun and the meat. The blob of ketchup, mustard, pickle and onions were just a faint whisper in this sludge. It finally entered my mouth and it tasted worse than it smelled. The first blob that hit my tongue clearly had large chunks of pickle and cheese mixed in with the meat. The texture was thick and chunky. I couldn't help it and immediately retched. Christine again gripped my chin. "Try me. Anything that comes up is going to go right back down again." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes and tried to ignore all the flavours and textures and suck it down. It was tough, and I almost lost it 5 or 6 times. Finally the last of it was done. And this was going to be the best meal? "Good for you sweety! Now it's time for your dessert!" The tube was swapped and the slurry of yoghurt, apple juice and purée apple slices made its way to my mouth. I had a hard time deciding which was worse. On the one hand apple juice cheeseburger surprise was pretty nasty, but I hated yoghurt. "Your mommy told me all about how much you LOVE yoghurt, so we're going to make sure that it's part of every meal during your stay with us." I shuddered. Finally Christine took a syringe out of her pocket—without the needle—and pulled out a small bottle of medicine. She uncapped it, put the syringe in and filled it up 2/3rds full of a thick, yellow, cloudy, oily substance. The tube was pulled from my feeding gag and hung up on the IV stand and replaced with the syringe. The smell and taste of caster oil was unmistakeable. She pushed my head back so that I could savour all 60 CCs of every drop. I was going to be in bad shape in a couple of hours. "Alright. I think we're about ready to start working on your treatment plan." Christine said, while the other nurse was pushing over the largest and kinkiest stroller/wheelchair I have ever seen.

Taken from The ABDL MedFet Book 6, here is a little story about the power in dominance, the passion in passiveness and the patience in a patient. Part One “Hiya, Erin!” Charlotte said, putting her purse down in the nurses’ station, having arrived a bit early for her night shift - this to the surprise of her daytime counterpart, Erin. “You’re a bit early. Aren’t you?” Erin said with a smile, finishing her last bit of paperwork for the day and filing it away. “Well, yeah,” Charlotte admitted, sitting next to her. “But I wanted to hear about this hunky new guy in room 77 you were texting me about. Greg, I think you said his name was?” “Greg Townsend,” Erin confirmed, getting out his paperwork to show her. “28, white male, 5’10”, 180 lbs. He was admitted about an hour ago, brought straight from a car accident. Injuries include: bruised ribs and possibly torn stomach muscles … and yes, he’s a hunk.” Charlotte smiled, knowing how easily Erin would go weak in the knees for some of the more handsome patients left in her care. For the next week at least, Charlotte and Erin were going to be seeing very little of each other. They were also going to be seeing very little free time as they would be working 12 hours shifts each day. Normally, a third nurse split the job three ways for them. But that nurse was on vacation and with several other nurses in the wing being pulled away for quarterly training seminars that were taking place that week, Charlotte, Erin and all the others who were still there were going to be there quite a bit - the hospital saving on labor costs by not scheduling extra help for the 7th floor of St. Ignatius Hospital. Presently, Erin was covering 7am to 7pm and Charlotte was taking the other half through the night. But they would switch in a few days to allow for a little bit of human life to be shared between the two of them. Charlotte picked up Greg’s incoming paperwork and read, with wide eyes, about the accident he had survived. “Patient was struck by a female driver who was driving well above the speed limit. Patient had no time to react and when she hit his front bumper, his car went up in the air and landed on its side. His seatbelt kept him strapped to his seat, but it wretched him all over the place. And this was how his ribs became bruise as well as how his stomach muscles may have become possibly torn. Degree of the diastasis of the recti muscles to be determined.” “How did he survive this crash? His HPI reads like a horror movie,” Charlotte exclaimed, continuing to read the detailed a gruesome account. “And is the other driver alright?” “It’s a miracle he’s alive,” Erin said with sincerity. “The other driver is in much worse shape, but she was admitted to the ER at the same time he was brought in. I haven’t heard about her condition since. But I was told she was on her cell phone when the crash happened.” Charlotte scoffed. Oh, did she loathe things like that - accidents caused by the preventable carelessness of others. As a no-nonsense kind of person, she was thusly a no-nonsense kind of nurse. But it was Erin who kept her grounded to remember the human element in their work. Erin, on the other hand, was the overly-caring type. She was also a bit of a worrier. But she had learned from Charlotte to double-check herself while not second-guessing herself. Together, they balanced each other out, making a more complete pairing. Charlotte kept a close eye on Greg that first night, as she would have done for any newly-admitted patient. But despite his vital checks every hour, it wasn’t until the 4am check that he finally stirred awake. “Hello?” Greg said with a groggy voice, the lights in room 77 being kept very dim and only showing Charlotte as a silhouette until she walked up to his bedside. “I assume I’m not dead.” “You would assume correctly,” Charlotte said, Greg seeing her last name on her name tag. “Webb?” he asked, still quite groggy - Charlotte checking all three bags of IV fluid that were hooked up to quickly be changed out for him … an indication that his injuries, and therefore his pain, was severe. “I don’t suppose your first name is …” “…It is,” Charlotte said with a knowing grin, having been asked that same question more times than she could recall. “Charlotte.” “Charlotte Webb,” Greg said with a groggy smile. “My mother named me after the character,” she admitted, recording information on the laptop on her rolling cart. “Well, don’t feel too bad. My father named me after his favorite football player,” Greg said, grimacing a little. “I don’t suppose you could crank up the pain killers.” “Not without permission. But doctors will be in to see you in the morning,” Charlotte answered. “On a scale of 1 to 10, where 10 is extreme and 1 is mild or non-existent, what is your current pain?” “I’ve always thought some of the questions asked of hospital patients were ludicrous. That one right there is my favorite,” Greg said with a slight laugh, then cutting himself off from all further laughter as it only worsened the pain he was feeling. “Put down … 7. But you can write the word excruciating right after that.” “Most people just tell me 10,” Charlotte said, recording his answer. “Most people embellish. They will say whatever they think will get them more drugs,” he replied. “The real pain is mental, not physical.” “What do you mean?” Charlotte asked, his first impression showing him to be more than just a hunky-looking guy. “Well, tomorrow morning, doctors will come in here and tell me that I need to rest up while I am hospitalized and then they put all sorts of sleeping medication in me. And I will, in fact, go to sleep,” Greg said. “But then I will constantly be woken up for a list of various reasons, though I’m supposed to be resting.” Charlotte smiled, laughing at his response. How true it was. “How long have I been here?” he asked. “8 hours,” Charlotte said, still smiling at him. “It’s about 4am.” There certainly was a little something more to him than his handsome jaw line and strong build. Rarely did Charlotte ever take to her patients, but Greg was different. She just wasn’t sure how yet. “The girl who ran into me … is she okay?” he asked, a genuine sense of worry in his voice. He obviously knew how bad the accident had been. “She was admitted to the ER the same time you were brought here,” Charlotte answered honestly. “I don’t know anything more about her.” Greg closed his eyes, a bit of concern coming over him. “How long have I had this IV in my arm?” he asked, seeing his right forearm connected to the bags hanging behind him. “9 hours,” Charlotte replied, finishing her current check on him. “IV was first started for you when you were placed in the ambulance to be brought here.” “Before you leave, I’ve got to tell you something,” he said, stopping Charlotte in her tracks as she turned back to listen to him. “I have a weak stomach. I’m serious about that. I’m not joking about … whatever damage my stomach has at the moment. When this IV is taken out of my arm, I will begin to throw up repeatedly.” “Okay,” Charlotte said, not seeing his statement as being alarming. “I apologize in advance if it’s you who has to clean up after me,” he said with honesty. “It’s not gonna be fun for either of us.” “That’s my job. Now, get some rest,” she said, rolling her cart over to the door but then turning back one more time to say something to him. “I’ll be back in two hours to wake you up again.” Greg smiled, then quickly fell asleep. --------------- The next morning at 7:15am, Erin rushed in for her shift. “I’m sorry I’m late,” Erin apologized, setting her stuff down in the nurses’ station. “Traffic was a nightmare.” “It’s alright. Catch your breath, Sweetie,” Charlotte said, taking a seat next to her. “You were right about our hunky boy in room 77. I can tell already that his physical movements will be scarce for a while. But he has a sense of humor about the situation. Here, come with me for a minute. I want to show you something about him.” They walked down the hallway to his room, cracking the door open and peeking in at him. “He has been laying in the exact same position all night, flat on his back with his arms at his side,” Charlotte said. “Most patients do that, but he is doing it naturally. This position of sleep can lead to back pain, but he is smart enough to know, even when sleeping, that a crick in the back is nothing compared to what else he’s dealing with right now.” “Right,” Erin said, not understanding the point she was getting at. “Flat on the back is known as the soldier position,” Charlotte said, leading Erin back to the nurses’ station. “People who regularly sleep in that position have high expectations but also tend to instinctively protect. That’s why it’s call the soldier position. A soldier would sleep like that so he could get up quickly for battle or whatever, if needed.” Erin still wasn’t sure what point Charlotte was making, but throughout the day shift, she would learn a lot about Greg. And her softer nature would begin to rise to her surfaces, like always. But she would wait until he awoke that morning before bothering him again. Sure enough, he would stir as soon as the sun rose high enough to shine in through the Venetian blinds of room 77. “Good morning, Mr. Townsend. My name is Erin,” Erin said, rolling her cart into his room for an 8am check. Greg looked at her name tag, then smiled. “Your name is Erin Runner,” Greg said, the timbre in his voice almost making her knees wobble. “So, there’s Charlotte Webb at night and Erin Runner during the day.” “For now, at least. She and I will switch shifts in a few days,” Erin said, checking the drip bags and beginning to record the information. “Before you ask, just right down my pain as a 6 … with a side note of slowly getting better,” Greg said, trying to sit up but thinking better of the position shift when he felt pain from the movement. “Oh, no. Not yet,” Erin said, easing him back into a laying position. “Soon enough, though.” “I hear there are doctors coming to visit me some time this morning?” he asked, returning to his relax on the mattress. “Yes. They should be here by now. But they’re not always punctual,” Erin stated, then cryptically interrogating him. “Charlotte told me to look into the condition of the lady who hit you. Though, I can’t give you any details, I can tell you that she made it. She’s alive.” Greg sighed softly, closing his eyes - as if a sense of relief had overtaken him. Getting a bit bolder, she walked up alongside him. “Is there anyone you’d like me contact for you? Perhaps parents or relatives … or a girlfriend?” Erin asked with a sweet tone. “Well, you’re gonna have some trouble, there,” he replied with a smile. “Both of my parents passed away. My brother lives in New Mexico. And, if I have a girlfriend, it’s news to me.” Erin shared a smile with him, then going back to her paperwork at the rolling cart. “You have a very pleasant way about you, Erin Runner,” Greg said with a deep timbre that made her shudder and then smile back at him sweetly with raised shoulders of shyness. “Not everybody finds value in simply being nice. That’s a quality I hope you never lose.” “Greg Townsend?” a doctor said, walking into his room. “That would be me … or what’s left of me,” Greg said with a jocular tone, the doctor smiling and shaking hands with him. “As it turns out, you’ll be happy to know there’s more left of you than what we believed when you were admitted last night,” the doctor said. “We no longer believe you to have any muscular diastasis.” “And once I get my hands on a medical dictionary for translation, I’m sure that’s gonna mean a whole lot more to me than at the moment,” Greg said, the doctor laughing at the response. “You have no torn muscles anywhere,” the doctor restated, putting it into layman’s terms. “But you are more than likely in a great deal of pain. Essentially, you have internal bruising. And we are going to monitor you for a few days to make sure that everything inside you is working properly. I’d really like to see you up and walking around in a day’s time. That may not be possible, but here’s some incentive: until you can stand up and walk, you will be peeing in a bottle and relieving yourself in a bed pan. And you’ll return to solid food at dinner today.” “Well, Doc. You have given me all the incentive you’ll need to,” Greg said with a small laugh - anything more being too painful. “My time and my healing are for sale, but my dignity is not. I will be up on my feet before this day is over.” “That’s what I like to hear,” the doctor replied. Erin stood there, listening to Greg and that doctor speak - then feeling sympathy for Greg as the doctor had him sit up. She could tell by the look on his face that he was in tremendous pain. Then she thought about how concerned he was for the well-being of the cellphone-using lady who slammed into him and almost killed him. Charlotte was right about him. There was more than met the eye and it truly shocked Erin that he didn’t have a girlfriend. How was that even possible? He seemed like such a great guy, of what she knew of him. For this reason, she exercised caution in pursuing her curiosities about him. But seeing the doctor pushing in on Greg’s stomach and testing Greg’s limits of pain, Erin grew a soft spot in her heart for him. So, by the time the doctor stopped torturing him and left the room, she was already in a mode of I’m gonna take good care of you now. And with her added traits of worry, she slipped right into the same groove as always, wanting nothing but to make him become pain-free. Before easing Greg back down onto the mattress, Erin massaged the center point on his right shoulder blade while placing a cool right hand on his abdomen. Reaching under his hospital gown to touch his abdomen, she caught a glorious quick view of his endowment. And Wow! was all she could think of it. Trying to show no reaction to what she caught a glimpse of, Erin finally eased him down on the mattress. Then she massaged the very middle of his right foot, at a specific point which lessened the pain in his stomach area and his diaphragm. She wandered if it would be rude of her to tell him that she was also single and available but thought better of saying anything. “Breathe,” she said very quietly - almost in a whisper. “I am,” Greg said softly. Shyly, she smiled - a bit too embarrassed to reveal she was telling herself to breathe, not him. And she was even more too embarrassed to say why she was flustered to the point of needing to remind herself to breathe. His endowment! Oh, my. It would be a momentary vision that would remain in her mind’s eye for quite some time to come. And the massages worked, his pain lessening to a tolerable degree. Greg closed his eyes and fell asleep fairly quickly. But she would remain there by his side for a short while longer, studying the expressions on his face and wondering if he was dreaming. Doing her rounds, she finally had to admit to herself that she was smitten over him. Unlike so many of the other patients who were understandably miserable, Greg was not - though he had just as much right to be. Aside from the fact that he was a good-looking guy who obviously found importance in his appearance, when not in a hospital bed, he also seemed to have a positive-outlook on a negative situation. His heart was in a good place and his head was in a good place, despite where he was and why he was there. There were no red flags she could see. Greg went in and out of sleep all that afternoon. Erin kept checking on him constantly. When not checking on him or the other patients, she busied herself with text message after text message to Charlotte who was probably sleeping - telling her about how intriguing he was and also how well hung he was. By the time the dinner hour arrived, Greg was ready for some sort of sustenance and Erin was ready to dig a bit deeper into who he was - readying herself to open up to him - should all red flags remain at bay. “Be honest with me, Erin,” Greg said, leaning the bed upward to cheat so he wouldn’t have to hold himself up while eating. “Does that doctor really consider broth and Jello to be solid food?” Erin laughed aloud while tucking a napkin into the front of his hospital gown collar. His outlook certainly was a refreshing one for her to hear. He wasn’t really complaining like the other patients - instead, making light of that which needed it. “You’re completely overlooking the fact that he also thinks it’s actual food!” Erin added, sliding his dinner table over the bed and inadvertently trapping his arms underneath it. “Well, now it feels like a torturous tool used in interrogations,” Greg said with a monotone quality in his voice that broke Erin into hysterical laughter. In all honesty, Greg was happy to be able to put anything in his stomach, no matter how unappetizing the food may have seemed. “Where were you on the night of …?” Greg asked with a mocking interrogation tone until Erin cut him off by slipping a spoonful of broth into his mouth and holding the spoon there as he swallowed. “Oh, I’ve got better questions than that when I interrogate someone,” Erin said with a devilish grin and a playful tone, thoroughly enjoying the rapport they were building with each other. “Okay,” Greg, opening his mouth wide for the next spoonful. “How do you not have a girlfriend?” Erin asked, putting another spoonful of broth in his mouth and then using the tip of the spoon to scoop up the minor dribble on his lower lip - then feeding that to him as well. “And I want a real answer or I’ll break out the rice pudding next.” “I have no idea,” he responded after swallowing, his tone showing his honesty. “I guess I just haven’t met the right one yet.” “Have you ever been married?” Erin asked, feeding him another spoonful of broth, then switching over to the Jello. “Nope. Engaged, yes. But never married,” he admitted. “And why didn’t you get married?” she inquired, dipping the spoon into the red Jello and feeding him the first heaping spoonful of it. “Because engagement showed us exactly what engagement was supposed to show us,” he answered honestly again. “And what’s that?” she asked, really getting into this conversation. “That we weren’t meant to be married to each other,” he answered, trying not to laugh as laughter would have been painful for him just then. “How did you get into nursing?” Erin played very coy, returning to feeding him the broth and taking her time in deciding if she was going to tell him anything about herself. But the more intriguing thought in her mind was about what would be fun to actually tell him. She could be cryptic. She was in control and she could clearly see why Charlotte always leaned in the direction of dominating men. There was very satisfying fun in it. But Charlotte’s problem had always been about respecting boundaries. And she would quickly go from appearing as dominant to becoming domineering. Erin had no intention of disregarding her submissive nature. Instead, she would attempt a bit of topping from the bottom. But Greg’s reaction to this was her current primary concern. “I’ve always liked reading books about women who changed the world in some way and left a mark in their fields of work, like Florence Nightingale,” she said with a lowered tone, saucy to say the least as she fed him yet another spoonful of the broth. “She was a pioneer in the nursing field in the late 19th century. Her dedication to patient care got her nicknamed The Lady with the Lamp because she made rounds at night …… and this had never been done before.” Greg swallowed the broth and immediately received another helping of it. She was certainly taking charge of the situation … and of the talk. “Her example of care would forever change the way hospitals treated patients. Most consider her to be the founder of modern nursing,” Erin continued, leaning the bowl towards her as she scooped up more of the broth and fed it to him - Greg not resisting her at all. It seemed he suddenly had a bit of intrigue in her too … or so she was being led to believe. Finishing the last few spoonfuls of broth, she returned to the red Jello, only making him eat half of it. “That’s a really wonderful role model to have,” he said with a smile and authentic tone. “And nursing is noble work.” “It can also be messy work,” Erin laughed, picking up his dinner tray. “What you ate won’t take too long to digest right through you. So, when you get the slightest indication that you need to complete the digestion, please buzz me right away. Do you feel strong enough to take the painful trip to the toilet or do you want to use a bed pan?” “I’ll take the trip to the toilet,” he said with certainty, Erin smiling at the fearful look that momentarily crossed over his irises. --------------- At 7pm, Charlotte arrived for her shift, quite promptly after having awakened and read the string of texts she had been sent. Erin went right into talking to her about Greg, explaining how he was bruised internally but not damaged otherwise. And in the interest of time, she explained he had eaten his first meal at dinner. Charlotte knew what that meant and they both prepared for his forthcoming distress call. A few minutes later, his buzzer sounded and they moved quickly to his room, Erin explaining how flirting had become a common tone with him … and how he was playful about it all. “Okay, Mr. Townsend,” Charlotte said, entering his room and raising his bed to a sitting position as Erin helped him swing his over the side of the bed. “Just remember to keep breathing. It’ll be okay.” “Do most people make it to the toilet in time when they do this?” Greg asked, pain encouraging him to lean over and panic being evident in his tone. “Just be honest with me.” “It may seem like a surprise to you at the moment, but the answer is yes. Most everyone makes it to the toilet the first time,” Charlotte said with calmness, she and Erin helping him stand to his feet. “What may seem like urgency to you is actually anything but that.” “It doesn’t seem possible,” Greg said, going dizzy from being on his feet for the first time in 24 hours. “When you get there, you’ll be amazed how nothing will happen at first,” Erin said calmly, her voice softening in an attempt to ease his nerves. “It will be when you relax that everything begins.” He clung to both of them as they guided his sliding steps in the direction of the bathroom. “Thank goodness they put the bathroom on the other end of the room,” Greg said with jocular nature, seeing how far he still had to walk and wondering why his backside hadn’t let loose yet - for how urgent the need to release felt just then. “A few more steps. That’s it,” Erin said softly, encouraging him with a nurturing tone - Greg beginning to sweat from the whole ordeal. Well, he was either sweating or had just acquired a fever. He suddenly couldn’t tell. And with a dizziness to him that just wouldn’t quit, he likely wouldn’t find out until after all operations had finished. “Okay, just take your time and sit calmly,” Charlotte said as they got to the bathroom, Greg indeed making it to the toilet and sitting - then suddenly waiting for what he expected to have been immediate. “Would you like privacy?” Erin asked quietly. “No. It’s okay,” Greg said with grimace. “There’s no performance anxiety. There’s just currently a strange pad lock on the backdoor.” Charlotte and Erin joined him in a laugh. “A lot of people start to cry and fuss when they get to the toilet the first time,” Charlotte said, chuckling a little at the thought. “I guess I should laugh about that. But I sometimes have to walk out of the room to prevent them from seeing me smiling at their dilemma.” “Well, if you think about it, it’s a grown adult who suddenly can’t act like an adult … for understandable reasons, but still … I can see why that would strike anyone as funny,” Greg said, then freezing in his sitting position on the toilet. “You wanna hear something more funny, stick around a few more seconds. Okay … here it comes.” Greg found the relief his body ached for, never once blushing with embarrassment as that would have taken too much energy to do. But with the evacuation complete, he was much more relaxed - despite the fact that it was Erin who tended to the toilet paper conclusion for him. Then he was helped to his feet, carefully guided back to his bed. “So,” Greg said with a breathy whisper, sitting down on the side of his bed and swinging his legs up onto it before leaning back and sighing - then looking at Erin. “Where do you wanna go on our second date?” Charlotte laughed a bit harder, changing out his drip bags and giving him some medication to drift him off to sleep. --------------- At 2am, as Charlotte made her rounds for patient checks, he awoke. “You’re one of the lightest sleepers I’ve ever met,” Charlotte said quietly, recording his information and walking up alongside his bed. “Well, I have a tendency to talk in my sleep. I didn’t want give away any secrets if we suddenly struck up a conversation,” Greg said with a small laugh, his condition already having shown real improvement. “So, why did you become a nurse?” “The pay,” Charlotte stated frankly, then laughing at her bluntness. “But I’m also a bit of a sadist.” “Really? Well, giving needle shots might satisfy that craving for you, I guess,” Greg said with a grin. “Nursing hardly seems like a career for sadistic purposes, though.” “Well, it depends on how you look at it. Maybe even more than sadism is how I enjoy being needed by my patients,” Charlotte said, checking his drip bags. “That certainly is different than sadism,” he replied. “More maternal, in instinct than anything.” “Not really,” Charlotte said. “In truth, there’s not a maternal bone in my body. But the control factor is quite satisfying.” “I know what you mean, there. Every relationship I’ve been in always put me in a mindset where I thoroughly enjoyed melting her senses … babying her insides, so to speak,” Greg admitted. “So you play Daddy with you girlfriends?” she asked, raising her eyebrows with surprise. “Who’s playing?” Greg said with a devilish grin. “Get some sleep, Mr. Townsend,” Charlotte said, chuckling to herself as she left his room. --------------- At 7am, Erin arrived with as much promptness as Charlotte had the evening prior. And when Charlotte updated him about her talk with Greg, Erin’s eyes grew big and wide - her heart beginning to beat faster. “I don’t suppose that what he said means what I want it to mean,” Erin stated grimly but still with excitement. “Well there’s one way to find out. And I’ll even help you, to start,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly - Erin looking at her with confusion as to what she meant. “Remember that episode of Grey’s Anatomy when the nurses decide to see who was the more hardcore nurse among them?” “Do you mean the one when they wore diapers and took no breaks?” Erin asked, not recognizing the importance of the elephant-in-the-room suggestion Charlotte was making. “Yeah. I have an idea I wanna run past you,” Charlotte said, smiling at how Erin still hadn’t pieced it together yet. “I’ll stick around to help you bathe him in bed this morning. But there’s a little more I wanna do as well. And I know you’re really gonna enjoy it.” Continue on to Part Two