Quid Pro Quo

By MCC

Chapter 3

Settled In

I awoke fairly quickly, apparently having slept many hours. Opening my eyes, I found myself looking into a ceiling-mounted mirror which gave me an astonishing view of myself. I was in a hospital bed (of course). I took quick stock of all the different ropes applying traction to my body – my neck (head halter, made of heavy leather with lots of straps and apparently lots of padding), pelvic harness (Cotrel, of course – trochanter pads on each hip and padded straps over each iliac crest), skin traction on both arms (upper and lower, holding my elbow at 90 degrees to my upper arm, and my arms away from my body), skin traction on my upper and lower legs, with the legs held up off the bed by some sort of metal-framed sling padded with lamb’s wool. In addition, a large tube disappeared into the plastic mask over my mouth (an endotracheal tube holder, I recognized it from episodes of ER), which I could feel going down my throat, and a smaller tube running into my left nostril, which I could also feel running down the back of my throat. The large tube connected to a machine by the bed, and it suddenly occurred to me that I was on a ventilator. The small tube was capped, and was clipped to an IV pole at the bed corner.

My fingers and thumbs seemed to be wrapped up in padding, as I could feel softness all around them, but was unable to move them, or even see them in the mirror – just large balls at the ends of my arms where the traction strips went to the spreader block. The "boots" applied to my feet seemed more substantial than traction boots I’d seen on the internet, and actually looked more like cam walker boots than the foam rubber Buck’s boots I’d seen. They held my feet firmly, and also held my ankle at ninety degrees to my leg. At least I didn’t need to worry about foot drop.

One thing I did not see was a catheter. I almost expected one, and was wondering why it was absent, when the door opened and in walked a nurse I hadn’t met yet.

"Good morning, my name is Stephanie. Time for breakfast."

Breakfast turned out to be a small bottle of milky white fluid hooked up to the tube running into my nose. The fluid was cool in my stomach, and helped to erase a hunger pang I hadn’t noticed until it started going away. After making sure my meal was flowing properly, Nurse Stephanie leaned over and checked the ventilator, then all the traction ropes. Once satisfied, she turned to me and smiled.

"You’ll be given several days to get used to your treatment before the staff takes advantage of your ‘agreement’. I’ll fill you in …."

Breakfast is served at 8:00.

At 9:30, a doctor by the name of Morgan would come to my room with two assistants and a cart of equipment. Similar to what I’d experienced at check in, a vacuum collection device would be attached to my penis, and an electrode would be inserted up against my prostrate. Unlike check in, the current used here was low, and was designed to stimulate a natural orgasm, instead of forcing it out. Two hours was allowed for this, though at the beginning it only took 30 minutes.

Lunch at 11:30 (another bottle of white liquid).

Twice each week, on Wednesday and Saturday, a portable colonic system would be placed in bed with me, and I’d be cleaned out – noon to 1:00 pm. All other days of the week I’d be left alone.

1:00 pm – injection of muscle relaxant. I’m not sure what they used, but it only took about 10 minutes before I felt like an overcooked noodle. It was no wonder they had me on a respirator.

2:30 – Doctor Morgan returned with his assistants, and again I was "encouraged" into carnal action. Even with the muscle relaxants, they managed to get it out of me, though it did take more time – three hours were allotted for the afternoon session.

Dinner at 6:00. The liquid for the evening meal was brownish in color. Didn’t matter much, as I couldn’t taste it.

At 8:30 two nurses came in (always different ones each night) and bathed me, after which a catheter was inserted into my bladder for the night. It seemed like it took them 30 minutes to get the thing in, but I wasn’t complaining – whatever techniques or materials they were using, they got the cath in with almost zero pain or discomfort, and once it was in place, I almost didn’t feel it.

9:30 pm – a shot, and out I went. By the time I woke up in the morning, the catheter had been removed.

That was my routine, with the exception that each day more weights were added to the different traction ropes. My back and neck were actually feeling awfully good, and despite the lack of television or radio, I was relaxed. Then, on the eighth day, the routine changed.

Doctor Beckham walked into the room, followed by several of the nurses. She stood beside my bed and looked down at me.

"Today this institution will exercise its rights under the contract which you willingly signed before entering this institution for treatment. While we will try to minimized the risk of permanent injury or scarring to you as much as possible, we cannot guarantee that you will come though this unscathed. Also, what will occur here today is completely confidential – you may not discuss it with anyone else, not even a member of the staff. If you fail to adhere to these rules, your treatment will be stopped and you will be removed from these premises, and never allowed back." With that she turned to one of the nurses standing near the door and nodded.

The door was opened, and Doctor Morgan rolled her cart into the room. The electrode was lubed and inserted into my anus, up against my prostrate, but instead of placing the collection tube on my penis, a snug rubber ring was instead placed around the base of my penis, and attached to Doctor Morgan’s machine with a wire. The machine was turned on, though I could feel that the current was lower in intensity. My member became erect, though not as turgidly as before. Once Doctor Morgan was satisfied that I was responding to the machine, she nodded to Doctor Beckham, who turned to one of the nurses at the door and nodded. The nurse left the room. Everyone else milled around, and I got the impression that something unusual was about to happen. Little did I know ….

After a few moments, the door opened again, and I saw Nurse Lori, sitting in a wheelchair, being rolled into the room. Instead of her nurse’s uniform, she was wearing a patient’s gown.

The wheelchair was rolled up next to my bed, and the wheels locked. Two of the other nurses reached down and helped Nurse Lori out of the chair. She apparently was under the influence of something, as her eyes were glassy, she had trouble standing, and she didn’t really focus her gaze on anything. Once she was standing, the wheelchair was moved out of the room. While two of the nurses held Lori steady, a third removed her gown. That nurse then donned latex gloves, squeezed something out of a white tube, then reached down between Lori’s legs. Her eyes rolled back and she moaned – I guessed that whatever was in the tube was being applied to her vagina. After that nurse finished, she stepped back, and the two nurses holding Lori guided her to my bed, and lowered the side rail. They then helped Lori climb up onto the bed, and helping to guide her body, set her down upon my manhood. Apparently it was a lubricant that was applied to Lori’s nether regions, for she slid down upon my cock with surprising ease.

They held her there while two other nurses started moving about the room, and I suddenly noticed a few things about Nurse Lori that were different. The first, and most evident, was the trach tube that had been installed in the front of her neck. Made of almost clear plastic, I hadn’t really seen it until Lori was on top of me, as that was the first time she’d actually faced me. I could hear her breathing through the tube, and saw the soft fabric around her neck with which the tube was tied.

The second thing I noticed about Nurse Lori was her pierced nipples. Nothing really exotic, just a simple horizontal barbell through each one. They were placed almost against the base of the nipple, and the bars looked like they were an eighth of an inch thick. They were as impressive for their size as for their simplicity.

The last thing I noticed, and did so almost as an afterthought, was that her hair was wet. It looked at though she’d just stepped out of the shower.

Two assistants appeared then, and started added bars to the fracture frame attached to my bed. One directly above Lori’s head, another at the foot of the bed, and one on each side of the bed beside Lori. All had pulleys, and once they were clamped to the frame, ropes were threaded through them.

Turning away from the bed, those two assistants returned, each with a large canvas hand mitt, which they simultaneously applied to Lori’s hands. Made of heavy canvas with a rigid palm and sleeves for each individual finger, these mitts were lined with lamb’s wool, even down to the cuff which was locked around Lori’s wrists. Locked onto her hands, they were attached to the ropes at her sides, holding her hands firmly away from her torso.

Once they’d completed this, the two assistants left the room, but quickly returned, each with their hands full. As they approached the bed, I saw they were carrying the front and back halves of a thick, heavy plastic jacket, which I originally took to be an upper back brace. Turns out I was only partially correct.

When they walked into Lori’s field of view, she saw them, and started breathing rapidly. Apparently something significant was about to happen, though I was sure if she was excited about it or frightened. Doctor Morgan noticed, and nodded to one of the assistants who, until now, had done nothing more than stand around and watched. Quickly this assistant walked out of the room, and returned with another cart upon which was mounted a machine with corrugated hoses coming out of it. Another respirator, I surmised. Sure enough, the cart was parked against the wall on the far side of the room, plugged into an outlet, the machine was turned on, and the hose attached to it was picked up and carried to the bed. I heard a chuffing noise, and turned to see Nurse Lori trying to say something. Her mouth moved, but the air was only going out of the trach tube. Apparently it was cuffed, robbing her of all speech. The hose was brought up to the bed, and hooked up to her trach tube. The chuffing noise ceased, and her breathing took on a mechanical rhythm, though her mouth movements continued. Doctor Morgan made an adjustment to the machine, and within a few breaths Lori stopped moving her mouth and seemed to relax.

It seemed a great effort was being made to keep Lori quiet and relaxed, though not tranquilized. I surmised they’d just added Nitrous Oxide or Entonox to the air that was being pumped into her lungs – quick-acting agents, their effects would end almost immediately after the flows were stopped. Whatever was going to happen, they wanted Lori awake and alert for it. Part of me felt sorry for her, and part of me was scared for her. There wasn’t much I could do at the moment though, so I just watched, and felt her slick vagina engulfing my rigid penis.

Once Lori had relaxed, the two assistants stepped up to the bed with the two halves of the plastic jack – one for the front, and one for the back. The back half was placed against Lori’s torso and held in place, but the assistant holding the front half waited. Doctor Beckham then walked up, holding two pieces of wire. Bent to resemble a tuning fork, te ends of the times were bent into a sort of question mark. I started to wonder what these were for, when Doctor Beckham attached once to each of Lori’s nipple piercings. Once attached, they were held at a right angle to Lori’s torso, each sticking out about ten inches. The nurse with the front half of the jacket then approached.

As she did, I noticed that the entire inside of the jacket was lined with lamb’s wool, both front and back, and that the front half had breast cups molded into it. I also saw that, where the nipples would be on these cups, there was a round hole, with a small notch cut out of the top and bottom. As the front half was placed against Lori’s body, the two long wires attached to her nipple jewelry were passed through the holes in the breast cups. Once the front and back halves were in position, straps were passed between them, and drawn tight. Buckles, not Velcro, held the straps firm, and once hey were all in place, locks were snapped over the buckles, preventing them from being removed, or even loosened. As the last of the buckles was being secured, I looked at the breast cups, and saw that the long wires stuck straight out of the hole – apparently the way the vest was made, Lori’s nipples were still down inside the jacket. Doctor Beckham then took the wires, and Lori suddenly grimaced, apparently knowing something was about to happen – and happen it did. Doctor Beckham rotated the wires ninety degrees, and pulled – twisting Lori’s nipples hard, turning the jewelry’s orientation from horizontal to vertical, and pulling them through the vertical slots in the holes. They were then allowed to return to horizontal, and I realized that Lori’s nipple piercings were now fixed to the outside of the jacket, stretching her nipples at least an inch. I saw tears in her eyes, yet her vagina tightened up around my cock. Was this something she was wanting? The two long wires were detached from the nipple jewelry, and Doctor Beckham stepped back.

Having firmly attached the vest to Lori, those two nurses returned to their cart, and came back to my bed with several bars of black material. When they hit against each other, the sound was not metal, but a cross between plastic and ceramic. A straight bar was attached horizontally to the front of Lori’s vest, and another to the rear half. A longer bar, bent down at the ends, was placed over her left shoulder, attaching the front to the back; its twin was placed over the right shoulder. I suddenly realized what the appliance being constructed was.

Nurse Lori, dear, sweet Nurse Lori, was about to be placed in a halo.

Doctor Morgan spoke.

"I can see in your eyes you are concerned for our nurse. Please do not be alarmed. This was requested by her. You see, she is about to embark on a ten-week vacation, traveling to England, Norway and Germany, then finishing up in Las Vegas. She wanted to be placed in a halo for the entire trip, as well as having the trach tube." While the doctor was speaking, Lori looked down at me and smiled weakly – her way of assuring me that what the doctor was saying, was true. "There was a condition to being placed in this, though. Lori specifically requested that the halo be applied, with traction, while she had a well-endowed man in her. We’ve actually been waiting for a month or so for a willing patient to come in, and it happened to be you. It was fortunate that you appeared when you did, as the time frame for Lori’s vacation was limited."

The frame for the halo vest/back brace was now finished, with four uprights evenly spaced around Lori’s head. A traction rope was threaded through pulleys to end directly over that beautiful cranium, and attached to a head halter. That device was then placed over Lori’s head, and the side straps were connected between the chin and occipital straps. It was adjusted, and then weights were attached to the other end of the rope. I could see Lori’s neck start to stretch. I didn’t know how much weight the attached, but it was a lot. Then it was time.

Adjustments were made to the respirator breathing for Lori, and the glazed look disappeared from her eyes. She was fully awake and aware.

A nurse entered the room carrying a tray, on which was a bundle of cloth. Doctor Morgan donned latex gloves, unfolded the bundle, and removed the halo itself from its sterile package. Turning to my bed, she ceremoniously placed the halo over Lori’s head, like a bishop crowning a prince. Satisfied with its position, she nodded to an assistant, who then slowly screwed in the positioning pads. Once firmly held in place by the pads, Doctor Morgan turned back to the tray, and opened another small package. One by one, the pins were inserted into holes in the halo and started, but were stopped before they came in contact with skin. Eight pins were placed, two on either side of each positioning pad. Once all were set, Doctor Morgan was handed a pair of what seemed to be battery-powered screwdrivers.

"The torque setting is correct?" she asked. One of the assistants nodded. The doctor turned to Lori. "Ready?"

Lori closed her eyes fro several seconds; our respirators made the only sounds in the room, a staccato rhythm that, in another setting, might have been decent to dance to. Lori then opened her eyes, and looked directly at the doctor …

… and for the last time in a long time, nodded her head.

Doctor Morgan selected a pair of pins on exact opposite sides of Lori’s skull, adjusted them with her fingers until they were just barely touching the skin, and then placed the battery-operated screwdrivers to them. She waited only a second before activating them, and I less than a second they drove the pins home, reached their torque limit, and shut off.

Lori’s body jumped, and I suddenly realized that no local anesthetics were being used on the pin sites. She was feeling every bit of it. At the same time, her vagina tightened up around my penis again, and stayed tight. As the second set of pins were tightened in, Lori’s vaginal muscles started a throbbing rhythm. When the third set of pins were set, her eyes closed, and a sudden rush of warm, sticky fluid gushed from her vaginal orifice – she’d just had an orgasm. And with each pair of pins being inserted through her skin and into the outer surface of her skull, she came again. When the final pair was driven home, the orgasms came one after another, repeatedly, for what was probably a full fifteen minutes. Doctor Morgan and the other nurses simply stood back and watched, waiting for Nurse Lori’s body to finish what it needed to do. Once her body stopped heaving, they moved in, connecting the uprights to the halo ring, and removing the positioning pins. Before the uprights were tightened, two more weights were added to the traction rope, and Lori’s neck stretched even further. The uprights were tightened, the traction weights removed, and the head halter was cut away. The ropes were removed from Lori’s hand restraints, though the restraints themselves remained, and two nurses moved in to help Lori off my bed. She held up her mitted hands, though, indicating she wanted them to wait, and, leaning forward a little, started to slide up and down my cock. I was certain she was in a tremendous amount of pain from those eight pins in her head, and the tractive force being placed on her neck and shoulders, not to mention the stretching that was being done to her nipples, and yet before she left, Nurse Lori wanted to make sure that I received as much pleasure out of the experience as she did. The other nurses saw this, and re-tied her hand restraints to he bed frame in a way that let her use her arms for leverage. Once in place, she began rocking back and forth, sliding herself up and down my penis. The electrical stimulation device had caused me to have a great erection, but had somewhat desensitized my penis; as a result, it took a fair amount of work on Lori’s part before I finally came, too. Once I did, the ropes were removed from Lori’s hands, and she gladly accepted help off the bed. Before returning to her wheelchair, she leaned over my head, and mouth two words with dramatic exaggeration;

"Thank you."

Nurse Lori was wheeled out of the room, and Doctor Morgan looked back at me, and the small pool of fluid which puddled the bed around my waist and hips.

"Time to get you cleaned up." She adjusted my respirator, and I fell into a deep, deep sleep.