Michael
Part One: The Blackstone institute
Chapter One
The transition from dreamworld to reality was slow but relentless. Even in
sleep, Michael knew that something was terribly wrong, that consciousness would
bring unwelcome knowledge. He clung to the scraps of the dream that lingered in
his mind and tried to ignore the increasing discomfort in his body as it
awakened.
Awareness arrived, and told him that he was lying on his back on a soft surface,
with his legs raised and parted. Something light covered his body. His limbs
felt heavy and stiff, his mouth was parched and his head ached. His eyes felt
gummy and would not open. He tried to wipe away the residue of sleep from his
eyes but his arm did not, or could not, respond to the signals his brain sent
it. Panic rose inside him, rushing up from the pit of his stomach to his head,
leaving a bitter taste in its wake. Dizzily, he tried to turn over, but again he
could not move.
Just calm down, he told herself, fighting the urge to scream, knowing that he
might not be able to stop if he did. He began methodically checking his body,
limb by limb. There was sensation in every part of his body, as far as he could
tell, although he could not move an inch. It felt as if he was wrapped in straps
that were also attached firmly to the bed, suppressing any movement. He could
just manage to get a wriggle out of his toes, but that was the limit of his
mobility.
His legs were held at a ninety degree angle from his body, with his knees bent,
so that he was in a sitting position, and his legs were spread wide. He guessed
that his legs were propped up in gyneaocological stirrups for he could not bring
his thighs any closer together.
Michael was naked apart from the restraints. Between his legs, he could feel
that his penis had been strapped in position, exposing his sex in full glory.
He felt that unmistakable bareness that told him that his pubic hair had been
completely shaved off. There was some kind of rather uncomfortable tube attached
to him down there, but he couldn't work out what it was for. It wasn't in her
rectum, but it was definitely inside him. It was hard to tell, but he also
thought he could feel something lightly pressing against his prostate, which was
throbbing a little. He wished that he could touch himself to see what had been
done, or at least pull his legs together so that he wouldn't feel so vulnerable.
He hoped that the cover went all the way down and hid his exposed penis from
view.
A sudden swishing sound by the side of his head preceded the touch of a cool and
soft hand on his forehead. Michael was startled, but soon soothed by the kind
female voice that crooned; "There, there, you poor man, waking up all alone.
Let's wash the sleep out of your eyes, shall we?"
A damp cloth gently rubbed his face, removing the gluey substance from his eyes.
Michael blinked and gradually opened them all the way. He looked up into an
exquisitely beautiful face surrounded by a white headscarf. The young woman
stroked Michael's forehead and smiled.
"You must be thirsty. Here, let me help you with some water." The woman reached
for a squeeze bottle with a long straw and held it to Michael's lips. As he
sipped, tasting the sweet sticky liquid, he tried to observe his surroundings.
He was lying on a bed in a small room with dirty green tiles on the wall. His
body was under a white sheet hat came up to his bare shoulders, and rose up
over his legs, obscuring his view of most of the room. He could see a single
window which was covered with a thick steel bars, but no door, so he guessed
that it must be on the wall that was hidden by the sheet. There was a little
metal table next to the bed, and a sink. But except for those the room was as
bare as a prison cell.
The woman was obviously a nurse. She wore a well-fitted white tunic, that was
maybe just a little shorter in the leg and deeper in the cleavage than the
average nurse's uniform. Her white heels were high and pointed, but her
headdress was rather like a nun's. It was a strange combination.
"Where am I?" asked Michael once he had quenched his thirst a little bit.
"You don't know where you are? ...Well, where do you think you are, Michael?"
she replied softly while tilting one of her brows to an arc. She obviously was
concerned about his strange question.
"This is a hospital, isn't it? So I must have had an accident." Michael
frowned. He suddenly realised that there was a gaping hole in his memory that
extended from... when? He could remember being on his way to see Leasa, his
fiancée, to spend a romantic weekend together at her place but that she
unexpectedly had to cover work for a sick coworker nurse at the Windsor
institute where she was employed as one of the senior nurse staff. He
remembered a message left on her answering machine and her invitation to come
over to the Institute to accompany her through her night shift. But what
happened afterwards? Did he went to see her at that so-called Institute? What
kind of Institute was it anyway? He probed his mind for more information but
none was forthcoming. A sliver of fear slid into his heart.
"Where's Leasa?"
The nurse smiled sweetly and shook her head. "I don't know who Leasa is, my
dear. Do you remember how you got here?"
Michael shook his head, "I can't remember anything bad, but something bad must
have happened, right?"
The nurse stroked Michael's cheek. "Don't worry. You've had some serious
physical trauma and it's not surprising that your mind is a little shaken up.
Everything will come back to you soon, when the time is right. Right now you
need to stay relaxed and think about positive things, so that your body will
heal."
"But what is wrong with me? Why can't I move? I don't feel any pain in my body."
The nurse pulled down the sheet a little, so that it just covered Michael's
nipples. Michael could now see that there were leather constrains snaking up
from under his armpits and circling his chest above his torso. The constrains
also crossed between his nipples and wrapped around beneath them. Judging from
his complete inability to move, the bindings were also fixed firmly to the
mattress somehow. He wasn't sure why his upper half had been left bare, but it
made him feel a little edgy, especially as the sheet was hardly covering him.
"I'm going to tell the doctor that you are awake." The nurse put her hand on
Michael's shoulder, which made him feel slightly aroused. "I'm nurse Angelica,
and if you need me for anything, just call. I can hear you with this little
intercom, see?" Nurse Angelica gestured to the head of the bed where Michael
could see, by craning his head back, that there was a tiny microphone attached.
"Just relax, doctor Stanfield will be in soon."
As the nurse moved to go, her hand slid downwards and brushed over Michael's
strapped down penis. Michael's face turned a little red, he's getting a hard
one. The sheet slid down further and revealed Michael's nudity almost
completely. Nurse Angelica had already turned away, and Michael was too
embarrassed to call her back.
Michael was mortified that the doctor would come in and find him this way, but
there was nothing he could do to cover himself. They are doctors, he told
herself, they won't care about an erect cock. But then he felt a draft between
his legs and his mind reeled in horror as he realised that his most private
parts were totally open to scrutiny as well. The doctors were bound to be
examining him down there. They had already put the tube in. What else might they
do? Panicking, he began to struggle violently, however, this seem to be of no
use.
