He didn't realise it, but John was out cold for a couple of hours. When he awoke he was lying in what appeared to be a private hospital ward which held only the bed he rested on. Trying to sit up, he realised he still ached, that memory at least was real. A surge of panic then spread over him as he realised he had no means to pay for his stay in this obviously expensive medical facility. Once again, despair swept over him.
Shortly after waking up a nurse tended to him. "You have only bruising and some superficial wounds," she informed him. "You will be able to leave in the morning. It is midnight now and you really should be getting some rest."
"I can't pay for all this, you know," he said miserably as the nurse turned to leave the room.
"You don't need to," she said over her shoulder as she opened the door to leave, "Carrie is taking care of the bill."
A sudden buzz of excitement rushed through John as he heard Carrie's name again. She must have seen the accident and organised for his treatment. He lay back, ignoring the aches and pains. It was some time before he slept as the possibilities of meeting Carrie again or of being in her debt swirled around his mind.
In the morning, when he awoke, John ate a small breakfast and was given the opportunity to shower and get dressed, ready to check out. He was handed his running gear, which although it had been cleaned, looked as though it had seen better days.
Depressingly for John, he realised this was pretty much everything he owned in the world and he was about to leave a hospital with nowhere to actually go. He didn't even have access to any money. He sat down on a chair by the bed to ponder his dilemma when the door opened and, looking up, he saw Carrie. She was dressed in pale blue, skinny jeans and a grey hoody. John's heart melted at the sight of her, she was achingly beautiful and he had been so stupid to refuse, especially as now she had come to his rescue.
She sat down close to him on the edge of the bed, her face serious. She actually looked a little relieved to see he was okay, but there was a sadness about her too which John had only seen that time he returned from the beach, only to be told by her that she would not see him again.
"John, are you feeling okay?" she asked him quietly. John quickly told her about his aches and pains but then spilled into profuse thanks for her kindness and another desperately humble apology for having let her down. She stopped him by holding up her hand. "You are alive, that is the main thing. I heard about what your boss did and realise that you have nowhere to go. I really want to ask you to come back to my place, but I think this time it will have to be entirely on my terms. I don't see you have anything to bargain with!"
"I will do anything you ask," he replied. "I know I said that before, but I really have learnt my lesson. I'll run, or rather hobble, all around this hospital naked if you ask me to!"
"You hurt me a great deal when you refused me John," she said, once again a tear trickling from her eye. "My deepest desire is to be your Mistress and to have you as my sub. But for that to happen there has to be complete trust on both sides and total obedience from yours. I won't compromise again, do you understand?" There was such hope building inside of him, that John could only nod his agreement.
Tears now coursed down his cheeks, as he realised how lucky that accident had been. He was determined not to fail her again, he really would do anything. As a warm glow of joy flooded through him, John realised that he was hard again. Despite the simple, everyday way she was dressed, Carrie still looked prettier and sexier than any woman he had ever known.
"You need to understand that what I am about to offer you is non-negotiable and there will be no turning back from it. Even if you change your mind, you will no longer have a say over what happens to you. I want us to be together but you will truly be my slave. You will have no rights beyond those I might afford a pet dog, do you understand?"
Again John nodded, working hard to come to terms with his ever changing fortunes. "I have a doctor friend here," she continued, "who has agreed to inject you with drugs which will effectively put you into suspended animation. It works by slowing your breathing and heart rate to such a point that any observer, even a trained nurse, will think you dead. The story will be that your concussion must have been more serious than first thought and you will be proclaimed dead. He will organise a fake autopsy report and sign your Death Certificate. According to the outside world you will be dead!"
John looked amazed at what she was saying, but the softness of her voice and her determination to take him back, despite everything, mesmerised him. Continuing, she said, "Your boss, who is full of remorse at the moment, will organise and pay for your funeral at the local cemetery. Your work colleagues will have seen you lying in the coffin and the Undertaker will have fitted the lid. Everyone will be convinced you are dead. What they will not see is that I will remove you from the coffin overnight, before the funeral, putting the body of a local vagrant who died yesterday and is about your size, in to replace you."