Otherworld

by MCC

Chapter Three

I awoke the next morning, sunlight streaming into the room, creating a mosaic of shadows on the carpet. I saw this clearly, as the bed was currently rotated with me facing the floor. I moved my arms and legs a little, testing them against what I’d remembered, and found everything to be as it was when I’d slipped into unconsciousness – being pulled in every direction (it seemed), securely attached to the bed frame, and absolutely comfortable.

The nasal hood was gone, but I did notice one other addition – a sensation I’d felt a couple of weeks before, the feeling of something inside my urethra – a catheter. It didn’t hurt, wasn’t really even uncomfortable – it was just there, filling that conduit between my bladder and the outside world … it almost felt as if I was constantly urinating (which, technically, was the case). I also noted that my hands were still encased in their rigid mitts, and secured to the side of the bed. I was truly helpless, at the mercy of my hosts … and for some strange reason, it made me feel calm, secure, and somewhat aroused, to the point that I started to get an erection …..

The bed suddenly lurched, and started rotating. As it did, a pair of feet came into view, then legs, a skirt, wide belt, blouse, arms, and finally a face – Lorie. She smiled at me as she rotated the bed back to the supine position. "Good morning, how do you feel?"

I thought about that for a moment. How did I feel? My back and neck didn’t hurt much at the moment, my body was totally relaxed, and I really didn’t care about anything. How did I feel? It took a moment, but the words finally came to me – "At home."

Lorie’s smile widened at that. "Good. Let’s get you out of that contraption, and we’ll see about some breakfast." Teresa and Violet appeared then, and started removing sections of bars from the bed. Once out of the way, they had free access to me, and began tying up the traction ropes, taking the weight off of the harnesses.

Lorie retrieved a syringe (minus needle), and picked up the pigtail on the catheter. "Let’s get rid of this thing first, shall we?" The last time they had removed one of these tubes, I’d felt it for several days, especially when I went to the bathroom. This time I expected some discomfort or burning sensation when the catheter was removed, but instead all I felt was the tube sliding out of my urethra. "How was that?"

"That felt different from the last time, not nearly as uncomfortable. Not to sound ungrateful, but why doesn’t it hurt like it did the last time?"

"A topical anesthetic was added to the lubricant. We’d only used it on women before, not donors, and we weren’t sure how effective it would be on a man. In truth, we really haven’t had much of an inclination over the last several years to find out." She looked at me and comically raised her eyebrows. "What’s the verdict?"

I looked down at my member (which was still erect), then back up at Lorie. "If it works that well every time, feel free to use it whenever you feel it necessary."

Lorie moved back slightly at that. Apparently, it wasn’t what she was expecting to hear. "You mean that? It would certainly make things easier during the night, especially if you’re using these." She tapped the mitts which were still on my hands.

"Yes, I mean that. It really did not bother me any, just a strange little sensation, but nothing I’d call bad. Besides, it goes along with the helpless-thing." I moved my legs to indicate the traction apparatus. Lorie smiled again, leaned over, and kissed my nose. She then started unbuckling straps. I wondered if she took my comment seriously, and found myself hoping that she had.

It only took a few moments to get me unhooked from that bed, and three pairs of hands helped me out of it and into a wheelchair. The muscle relaxants were still at work, for I felt somewhat weak and rubbery. Teresa and Violet took me to the bathroom, and I again found myself being washed by their strong, capable hands. They seemed to be enjoying it also, and I wasn’t surprised when I was asked if I wanted them to shave me. Sure, why not.

A hot towel was wrapped around my face and left in place for several minutes, after which they proceeded to lather up my beard, then expertly removed it with a razor. They were admiring their work when Teresa asked, "Anywhere else?" I turned and raised an eyebrow at her. "Here, shaving one’s personal areas is commonplace. While not everyone does, a great many do, and those that do swear by it." One of those mischievous grins formed on her face. "Care to try it?" I looked at her, then down at my private parts. She must have guessed my worries, for she followed it up with, "I promise we’ll be careful."

I shrugged – when in Rome, … "Why not". Violet walked to a wall switch, and a bar lowered down over the tub. "Grab that, and spread your legs apart." I did as I was told, and in moments my front and backside were smeared with shaving cream. I tried to relax as they worked, but the idea of one of them slipping and seeing one of my testicles circling the drain kept popping into my mind. Several minutes later I was still waiting for the inevitable nick, when they began rinsing off my body. They finished by carefully inspecting their work, which involved slowly examining every bit of skin for stubble, and taking care of any spots that weren’t to their satisfaction. When they finally pronounced themselves finished, they helped my out of the tub and toweled me off. Once dry, the sprinkled liberal amounts of baby powder on me, and rubbed it in ….. everywhere. By the time they were done, they had caressed every square inch of my body more than once. Needless to say, it also gave me an erection, though they didn’t take much note of it. A pair of shorts and a bathrobe covered my very bare body, and sheepskin slippers were placed on my feet. By now I was famished, and said so. "Perfect", Teresa said, "Breakfast should be ready."

I walked out into the room, and breakfast was indeed being set up in the living area. Four places were set, I was thankful to see, for I really did not want to eat alone. As it turned out, Lorie, Teresa and Violet all shared the meal with me. While we ate, I asked questions about the area, and learned that this hospital had an extensive gardens which was open to everyone. Also discussed was this world’s form of government (a republic headed by a prime minister), and my role in it (none, actually, except for certain ceremonial functions [rare], or to pass judgment on certain types of convicted criminals [even more rare]). I also asked about citizens’ rights (lots), and their society as a whole. When we were finished eating, I had little better understanding of the world I found myself in, and a lot more questions about it.

As I finished eating, I excused myself, and headed for the restroom. I half expected one of my caretakers to follow me, and was actually relieved when they didn’t. I appreciated all the attention being lavished on me, but felt that I could wipe my own butt without any assistance. As I settled in and started emptying my bladder, I was pleased to find out that my most recent catheterization bore no resemblance to an earlier episode – peeing shortly after it had been removed, this time didn’t hurt at all. As I finished up and cleaned myself, I more closely examined my newly-bare private parts, marveling at how smooth and soft they suddenly felt. Very erotic. Yep, I could get used to this.

I exited the bathroom, finding that two of my nurses (as I started to think of them) had left – Teresa was still there, standing next to the bed, laying out some clothes. She heard me and turned.

"You have an appointment for one-thirty this afternoon for the initial casting for your brace. The technician, Marcia Sturgis, has indicated that you need to be very relaxed for the procedure, so at about noon you will be given a tranquilizer. It won’t knock you out, but it will make the session much more comfortable for you, and will allow Marcia to do her work better. She has also requested that you skip lunch, to prevent your belly from being distended, and to avoid any complications from the tranquilizer."

"Like?" Nervousness crept into my voice.

Teresa smiled. "Sometimes, the constriction of the cast, which must necessarily be snug, and the tranquilizers can produce severe vertigo, causing nausea and vomiting. We’d prefer to avoid that."

"Oh, I see." I looked at the clothes. "So, what do I do until then?" The clock said I had three hours.

"It is strongly suggested", and she gave me a stern look, "that I take you for a walk, so that you may get some exercise."

I stared at her for several moments with the most serious look I could muster. I wanted to see exactly where I stood in this matter, and how far I could go. Teresa didn’t budge, so I gave in. Smiling, I replied, "Well, I guess I really don’t have much of a choice, do I?"

Teresa continued her stern look for another forty seconds, before she lost it and started laughing. "No, you don’t."

This was going to be fun.

The clothes all fit me perfectly. Short-sleeved shirt, pants that felt like denim, but weren’t, and those sheepskin boots that all of Hollywood was wearing when I’d left my world. The clothes were all loose without feeling like I was swimming in them, and gave me plenty of room in all the right places. I wondered why I could never found clothes that fit this well where I’d come from.

Dressed, we left my room, went down the elevator, and out into the gardens. Lots of other patients were there, either going through exercise or physical therapy routines in the cool, clean air outside, or just getting out of the building for a bit. We passed three different women that had just been placed in body casts extending up to their heads, and they were learning how to walk without being able to look down. I made a point of stopping and talking to them, wishing them luck in their treatment and offering to do whatever I could to help them. From their reactions, I gathered that good manners from a man was something most of them had never seen.

I also met Sarah. Sarah had been in a motorcycle accident (they had motorcycles on this world? Yeah! I would have to see about getting one …), and had broken her neck. She was seated n a wheelchair, a halo brace affixed to her head, and a trach tube installed in the front of her throat (though it was, at the moment, capped off). I found out that while she had initially been completely paralyzed, she was slowly regaining at least some mobility, and had already regained the ability to breathe on her own, as well as most of her upper body strength – so much so that at the moment she was shuffling a deck of cards and dealing them to three other patients, in some variation of poker. After we’d bid them good day and walked on, I turned to Teresa.

"She seems to be in great spirits. Come to think of it, most of the people I’ve seen here are in great spirits. This must be a really great hospital – where I come from, most people in the hospital tend to be rather morbid and dour."

"Well, you have to consider several things. In Sarah’s case, three weeks ago she was a complete quadriplegic, to the point of depending on a respirator to breath. She has regained the use of her arms, and is able to breath on her own. Two days ago she moved her legs a little, and was able to control her bladder. So, yes, compared to where she was, she’s on top of the world right now."

"As for everyone else, you’ve been told of the problems we’ve had with previous donors. Please don’t think we are blowing it out of proportion – if anything, we have understated the problem we had. Because of the situation in which we find ourselves, and because of how desperately we depend on donors, our world enacted a law which said that, with very few exceptions, the donors have a free run of our world. Just because it’s law, however, doesn’t mean we had to like it, especially those who endure some of the less-than-polite things that those donors force on them. Though you’ve been here only a short time, you are so completely different from anybody we have had in a long, long time, that people are extremely happy. We haven’t had a donor who treated others with respect in what seems like forever." She chewed her lower lip a little, then continued speaking. "Of course, your behavior to date has also brought up a few questions – please forgive me, but I need to ask you some things." She looked straight into my eyes, almost pleading forgiveness for a sin she was about to commit.

I smiled back. "Go ahead."

She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. "Do you like women? I mean, in a physical manner?"

I stopped suddenly in my tracks, and stared at her with an open mouth. Teresa looked at me, then quickly down to the ground. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry …"

Her words were stopped by my sudden bellow of laughter. Okay, I admit, I needlessly embellished it, hammed it up, laughed a bit louder and more theatrically than I really felt, but I needed to make sure the point was made. I halted my laughing after a moment, and addressed the shocked nurse. "Yes, I like women, yes, I prefer women, yes, I enjoy sleeping with, making love to, and having sex with women, and no, I have no interest in men." I stopped for several seconds to let it sink in. Teresa gulped once, then she regained her smile. "The reason I have not yet tried to sleep with any women here is, I am concerned that they would think it is their duty to accommodate me. I love women, I love being with women, and I especially love making love to women, but I will not try to make a woman sleep with me if she does not want to – I’d prefer that it was something she wanted to do, instead of feeling like it was something she HAD to do. Does that make any sense?"

"Yes, that makes perfect sense." Teresa seemed genuinely relieved, then reached up, grabbed my head in her hands, and laid a long, wet kiss on me. I got the impression she wanted to say more on the subject, but for the moment she kept it to herself. We resumed our walking, though in silence. It took another ten minutes before she spoke again. "Lorie seems to think your current situation, uh, excites you." Apparently another subject that she felt was delicate.

I took another one of those deep breaths. "Yes, actually, it does." I allowed fifty yards to pass before I continued. "I can’t tell you when it started, or why, but being immobilized, being restrained, being under someone else’s control, excites me – it always has, as far back as I can remember." I turned to face her. "That doesn’t mean that I’m callous and heartless, in regards to what a lot of your citizenry is going through – just the opposite, I like to think that I understand it more than most people from my world, and therefore sympathize with them. And I’m not being patronizing – I have been through three spinal surgeries myself, so I know what the pain and discomfort really is, especially when the pain never ever really goes away. I’m not into the pain thing, which is one of the reasons why I asked to be placed in traction, and to have a brace made – it really does make my back and neck feel better, the immobilization and the distraction of the spine, and it relieves the pain. It just so happens that it is also something that arouses me, erotically."

"So, your back and neck really are …"

"Yes, they are. I was in an automobile accident many years ago, and injured my spine in several places. When I left my world, there was lots of hardware attached to my spine, which will show up well on an X-ray."

"A what?"

"X-ray – it’s a picture taken of the bones, using radiation. It allows you to see the bones inside the body, without having to perform surgery."

"Oh, okay, that’s what we call a bone photo. Some were taken of you when you were first brought here, but I haven’t seen them." We walked on a bit further, finally reaching the far end of the gardens. I looked at Teresa, and there was a glint in her eyes, and a slight smile on her lips. She looked up at me, and for a moment I saw something in her eyes I hadn’t seen before, something – wicked. She smiled up at me. "So, you enjoy being submissive, and you enjoy medical restraint and orthopedic immobilization."

There are times when very few words convey very great meanings. Those thirteen words that Teresa had spoken were all that were necessary to tell me that she knew – she knew – exactly what was going through my mind. And, coupled with the look on her face, they also told me that I was going to find everything I had ever desired in her hands.