© Copyright 2006 - Restricted - Used by permission
Storycodes: F+/m; drug; captive; bond; wrap; bandages; cast; intubate; torment; stuck; revenge; nc; X
God knows how long it has been. I have lost track of all time. I am completely immobilised and unable to speak. All I can see is the lights of this now closed hospital ward. To save money, the hospital heads decided to close this ward down for about three months. I have to stay here for that time at the mercy of these cruel wicked women.
It started six months ago at a party. I got drunk as usual and got louder and louder. Some girls came up and told me I was spoiling the party for them. I told them to shut up as I was enjoying myself. They went on and on. Eventually I shouted at them for being a bunch of whining sluts.
That is when my girlfriend at the time, Pam, ditched me. I didn’t mind that. I liked bondage, but she hated it. I had to find someone who suited me. I love tying women up and having them at my mercy! I am not keen on being tied up though. I like my independence too much. I admit that night I had been chatting to one of those girls about my love for bondage and I told her how I tied Pam to the bed, naked, spread-eagled on the bed, gagged as well to shut her up and went out to the pub.
I got drunk that time and finished up inside for the night. Pam was still struggling on the bed when I got home. Mind you, I was in no fit state to have sex, so I left her there for the day while I went to work and thought about her predicament all day! I had to keep going to the toilet to relieve myself.
The girl I was talking to did not seem that impressed with me. That is when I called her a stuck up slut. How as I to know how clever she was.
Well six months went by. I was standing at a corner waiting for the road to clear so I could cross it. A car came around the corner real fast and clipped me. I was sent flying. I picked myself up and brushed myself down, but a car had stopped. It was the woman I called a slut. She offered to take me to hospital, but I turned her down. She insisted and a crowd gathered and they all pushed me into going “just to be safe!” Safe it is, but I didn’t think it would be this safe.
Anyway, she got me into the Accident and Emergency department of the hospital. That is when I found out she is a doctor there. I was rushed into a cubicle and the curtains were drawn round. She left and a couple of nurses came in to get me ready for a check up. They stripped me and put a short gown on me that tied up at the back. Then they left me. I looked down at their legs sticking out from the light blue uniforms they were wearing. They certainly were attractive.
Anyway, I could hear them whispering to the doctor outside. She came in and said I had to go for an X-ray. One of the nurses came back with a wheelchair and I sat in it. The gown could not have been shorter. I had to keep it held down as they had removed my pants as well! All through the throng of people waiting to see the doctors, I was pushed. We went along several corridors where passing nurses smiled at me. I thought I had it sussed. I was God’s gift to women. Or so I thought.
Eventually we reached the X-ray department and they took the snaps of me. I was then taken back to the cubicle. I was there for about an hour when the doctor came in holding the x-rays. “You have concussion and have broken some joints. I am going to give you a sedative to make you relax while we prepare you for the treatment to put them right!”
“Broken joints? Concussion? I feel okay. If you give me my clothes, I will get dressed and leave and save you money and time!”
“Sorry, but I cannot let you leave like this. In the morning, you will feel stiff and unable to move. You have a choice let us look after you or you will suffer in the future!”
With a choice like that, I had no choice. The doctor gave me a jab in my left arm and I relaxed. I was put onto a trolley and wheeled down to the room where they did all the plastering. We had only just gone out of the cubicle, turned left and there was the X-ray room. So why did it take so long to get me there. What way had the nurse taken me!
I tried to move, but the jab had worked. I could think and see and hear, but not talk nor move. We entered the room and I saw lots of plaster of Paris had been made ready. They lifted me off of the trolley and laid me on the table. They stripped me of my gown and plaster bandages was wound around my arms and legs. My feet and hands were encased. They washed the bandages with water and lifted me up. They wrapped more bandages around my body.
A tube was stuck in my butt and over my prick. I would be able to go without the need for the toilet. The waste would drop into a commode. A tube was stuck in my mouth. It was an inch in diameter. Quickly they wrapped bandages around my head until only my eyes could be seen and the tube sticking out of my mouth. My nostrils were covered by a solitary bandage I could breathe through!
The bandages were all washed until they were wet and I could feel the heat as they dried. More plaster was smoothed around my body and limbs. My hands and feet were now just round lumps of plaster. Rods went from my chest holding my arms out. A rod was fastened between my calves holding my legs wide apart. The heat from the plaster got quite intense. Soon they were knocking on the plaster to make sure it had dried. Once they were happy, I was put on the trolley again and wheeled into this officially closed ward.
I was put onto a bed and left there. They all walked out leaving me staring up at this ward ceiling. This is where I am now. Wondering what I had done wrong! Surely the doctor had got over me calling her and her friends sluts? Doctors don’t take revenge, do they!
Ahh, I am okay now, there are two nurses coming in. I could swear blind I had seen them before. But I could not place where. Anyway, they leaned over me, their crisp shining white uniforms dazzling my eyes. “Are we feeling better now?” The drug had worn off, but I still could not move or talk because of all the plaster. The nurse carried on talking while the other one connected all the tubes to extensions. “The beauty of this is we can give you an enema every day and you can’t stop us. We will have to feed you through the tube, but believe me; we have selected the most disgusting meals we could think of. You are going to get lots of lovely mushy Brussels sprouts. They should clear you out. We hope you like baby food as well!”
The other nurse held up the tube into my mouth and the one who was talking fitted a funnel to it. She held it up while the second nurse poured this mushy slimy green substance into it. The funnel was transparent so I could see exactly how much it held. One the funnel was filled; she took a plunger and pushed down on the mush. I could feel it hitting the back of my throat and gagged. She stopped while I tried to swallow the muck. It took an hour to feed me.
Some water was poured into the funnel and I drank that just to get rid of the taste.
The doctor and some more nurses joined them. “Now you can see for yourself just how sluttish we can be!”
I thought, 'What is she on about? '
“You don’t recognise us from the party do you? You had most of us in tears. Well, now we are going to have you in tears, because amongst that slush was some estrogen, you will start to grow your own breast. When they are developed enough, we will consider giving you a sex change. Not bad for a bunch of sluts is it!”
One of the nurses carried on talking, “Can we give him the dosage to give him the monthly curse?”
The doctor answered, “I never thought of that, I will look it up in the computer files. That would be nice, see how a man deals with the bloated stomach and sore breasts. See if he does not get snappy!” With that the lot laughed.
They got cleaned up. “Come on lets go for a drink. Maybe we will get drunk and forget he is in here. No one comes in here anymore. The door is normally locked. I have the key. Strap him down!” Some straps were brought out and they passed them between the side rails of the bed, over my body and fastened it on the other side. I tried to scream, but they could not be bothered with me and just laughed.
One of the nurses said, “You might love it as a girlie. In fact we will put you down to come and work here as a nursing assistant and eventually become a nurse so someone can call you a slut after having years of exams and training. It might interest you, I am about to go for a sisters vacancy. She is becoming a matron and a right old battle axe she is. I will model myself on her just for you. All the rest can have it easy, but I will be on your back all the time!”
Another said “This is for Pam, oh, she sends her love and will teach you all about make up, and dress sense once you become a girlie! She has decided to call, you Susan. You can keep your surname. You look a Susan to me. Do you like your new name? I hope so, because you are stuck with it from now on!”
Another nurse joined in, “We sluts must stick together mustn’t we!”
The group laughed and walked out leaving me looking up at this ward ceiling and the lights. I heard the click as the lights were turned out. The noise of the door being locked was deafening. I could hear them as they walked away from the door. Their laughter and footsteps ringing in my ears as it got quieter and quieter. Soon all was silent. Night crept up outside and all went dark in the ward except for the bit of light coming from lamps outside!.
I was alone at the mercy of a bunch of loony nurses, lovely but loony. Oh how I wish I did not get drunk that night. Each one could go modeling. And those white uniforms, how their bodies stand out in them and when the light shines between their legs. Wow.
But I can’t do a thing about it except imagine how I am going to look if they were not joking about giving me a sex change!