A survivor of a car crash slowly has his will broken, one night at a time.
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Jack was your average, all-American boy from a small southern town. Like the other boys, he lived, breathed, and slept football.
By the time he graduated High School, he had filled out to be quiet a good looking young man. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and a nice muscular frame.
He graduated as Valedictorian of his class and was not only the Captain of his football, but also had made All-Star status as the quarterback.
State College quuckly pucked him up with a full ride in the degree of his choice, as long as he started at quarterback.
After graduation ceremonies were over, his parents were taking him out to his favorite restaurant, along with his girlfrien and his younger sister, to celebrate.
Everyone was having a great time. Conversations buzzed all around the car over the almost muted classic rock station on the radio. Jack was on top of the world...
That all changed in a heartbeat.
The last things that Jack remembered for a very long time were headlights shinong into their windshield, his dad cursing as he jerked the wheel, a loud crash, excruciating pain in his back, and then darkness.
The next thing Jack was aware of was a gray nothingness around him and a floating sensation. There were murmurs of sound in the distance, but he couldn't make out what he was hearing or where it was coming from.
And then, the pain began returning. In his current state, he couldn't tell what was hurting, only that he hurt. A lot. Just as the pain was becoming unbearable, a soothing sensation washed over him and he returned to the darkness. Floating.
This cycle repeared for whatvseemed like an eternity. It was hard to tell cause there was no sense of time. Jack occasionally had flashes of memory, bits and pieces of a life that seemed long past. One such memory was him sitting in church and it made him wonder if he was in hell.
Grayness returned, only this time, there was a bit less gray, a bit more sound. And then, blazing light as one eye barely cracked open.
The light hurt. He could see misshapen blobs moving about, but couldn't make out any details about what they were or where he was
His other eye slowly opened to a slit. More light flooded into his eyes. One of the objects moved closer and bent over him. When it was just inches from his face, he was able to see that it was a woman, peering intently into his eyes.
She was making unintelligible sounds, and Jack was sure she was speaking, he just couldn't piece together what she was saying. So, he just looked back at her and studied her through his slitted eyes.
She was a rather pretty brunette with green eyes and a slight smirk that suggested a really pretty smile. There was a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, too. She looked to be in her late 20's. That's really all he could see of her right then.
He finally realized she was speaking to him, and he was able to make out what the words were,"Mr. Jones. Can you hear me?"
Mr. Jones. That must be his name. He couldn't remember before. He managed to give a weak nod yes and her face lit up with a dazzling smile. "My name is Jenna. I am your nurse. You're in a hospital but you're going to be ok." She turned and said something over shoulder and another face hovered into view.
A man's face. He was a bit older, maybe 45 or so, clean shaven with brown eyes and a bit of grey at his temples. "My name is Dr. Balti. You've been through a lot, but you're going to be ok. You rest now and we'll talk more later."
There were so many questions Jack wanted to ask him, but he couldn't seem to make his mouth work. He could barely keep his eyes open. The whole time they were talking to him, the pain was coming back. He could tell now that it was coming from his lower back and radiating outward through his body. Then the morphine pump kicked on and he quuckly drifted back into the gray.
Jack woke at some time later. He opened his eyes, but it was just as dark as when they were closed. He felt a pleasant sensation coming from his cock, which he noticed was hard as a rock.
Someone, with very delicate hands, was slowly stroking his cock. But they were doing it in a very frustrating manner. They would start at the base with a very firm grip, slowly relaxing their grip as the lubed hand slid up the shaft, finishing with a light feathery touch at the tip. Then they would start over at the base and repeat. It felt really good, but it was maddening.
He had no idea whose hand was wrapped around his cock, but at this point, he didn't care either. He could feel himself getting close to cumming. His body began to tense up in preparation, but the hand slowed to a stop, temporarily killing his orgasm. Then it would start again, bringing him right to the brink of cumming and just holding him there. Precum was pouring out of his swollen cock like a river. If he had the strength, he would have screamed, but he was so weak, all he could do was lie there and take it.
This went on for some time, Jack wasn't sure how long but it felt like hours. Eventually, the mystery hand stopped. He felt a wet cloth wiping his cock and balls clean of lube and precum. And then nothing.
After a while, his still hard cock throbbing and his balls aching, he heard the morphune pump kick on, sendung him back into darkness.