Gardening at Mrs Chesters

Tuesday morning. Dot waited by the living room window again, hoping to spot Jonathan approaching down the street on his bike. The window was obscured in thick net curtains and it was hard to see in, but easy to see out, unobserved. However there was no Jonathan.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon when the phone rang. She had a mobile phone, but still used the landline, being of that generation. She walked in to the hall and picked up.

"Hello, Chester household."

A muffled voice in a noisy background at the other end of the line spoke.

"Hello this is Hugh Swan Memorial Hospital, can I speak to Mrs. Chester please?"

"Hello, Mrs. Chester speaking."

"Good afternoon. I'm calling about a patient we have here, a Jonathan Shelton."

"Oh yes, I know Jonathan. He was supposed to be here this morning, has something happened?."

"Ah yes Jonathan Shelton, he's in our 'Accident and Emergency' department. He came off his bike this morning, on a junction near to the town centre."

"Oh, is he badly hurt?" Asked Dorothy, genuinely concerned for his welfare.

"No, not too bad, only relatively minor injuries. He's a healthy young man, bounced a couple of times, he hit his head and arm, but basically he's recovering well. He asked me to let you know that he's sorry, but he won't be able to come in today. I hope that makes sense to you."

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that."

She thought quickly.

"Oh there anything do? Can I can drop by with anything, only his parents are away for a couple of days."

"Oh I see. Well, perhaps a change of clothes, would be helpful. He's going to be kept in tonight for observation, as we have a little spare capacity at the moment. Can you call by early evening, visiting will be over, but they will let you in for a short while. I won't be on shift then, but I'll leave a note for my colleague, to let them know you re coming in with some things for him."

The cheery female voice at the hospital, ended the phone call.

Dorothy's carefully laid plans for the day, had been set aside. She thought quickly once more and ascended to the top of the house. She took out a box of old clothes of the boys, which they had long since grown out of, but some of which might be big enough for Jonathan. She selected underwear, jeans and a couple of tops and bagged them up to take.

She arrived at the hospital at about 8pm. The traffic outside the superstore on the way had been hell. The smell of disinfectant hit her sensitive nose as soon as she went through the main entrance. She didn't like hospitals, but this was about Jonathan's welfare.

After about five minutes of hunting, she found the ward he was on, and entered.

She saw a nurse at her station, near the ward door. She was on the phone and studying three sets of papers on her desk. She looked up and looked busy.

"Er, hello, I've come to see Jonathan. Jonathan Shelton?" said Dot carefully.

The nurse, though she was only just back on duty, already seemed very tired. She wasn't looking forward to another twelve hour shift. She had a phone call on hold, another in her hand, three sets of papers to make sense of, Sister was due down in 20 minutes and now there was this late visitor. She stared bog eyed down at a list of names in front of her, but it took Dot to lean over and point his out.

"Ah yes,... Mrs. Shelton," the nurse said.

A simple 'No; would have worked. It would have cleared it all up. But Dorothy was taken by surprise, by the assumption.

"Err I wonder if you wouldn't mind helping out? We are a bit short staffed this evening and the support staff won't be on until tomorrow early now. I think his top sheet needs changing. He dropped half his dinner down it earlier. If I gave you the sheet, could you do it for me? Nothing better than mom looking after you is there, in any case?"

"And don't worry you won't disturb him, he's still out of it with anesthetic while they re-set his arm. He won't be around for several hours or so yet."

Dorothy paused, cleared her throat and was about to put the nurse right when she stopped herself.

"Err, no, no, you're quite right, it'll be no trouble at all." She replied, even though a voice in her head, was again telling her to correct the nurse and say that she wasn't Mrs. Shelton. However there was another voice, a louder one, which was disagreeing. "What about the shortages? Look how tired that nurse is already. Think how Jonathan will appreciate some clean bedding now, especially when he is recovering. Why not make a contribution. Stop being so selfish. What harm would there be?"

A call light went off in front of the nurse and without a word, off she walked down the corridor to the far end of the ward, leaving Dot on her own, holding a folded, clean, white, single sheet. There was nothing more to discuss, or even anyone to discuss it with if she had wanted to.

And so it was, that about two minutes later, she found herself at the other end of a dimly lit ward at Jonathan's bedside. He was asleep and he looked very tired. Something about hospitals and exhaustion she mused. Stretched out flat on his back, eyes closed, he appeared to be sleeping deeply from the effects of the anesthetic, just as the nurse had said.

She called out his name softly. Nothing. She did it again. Still nothing.

She turned and carefully and slowly, so as not to attract undue attention, pulled the curtains around the side and the end of the metal bed for some privacy. Now it was just Jonathan and Mrs. Chester, alone again.

Staring back at his bed it was then that she noticed the saucer sized soup stain. It was deep pea green and right in the middle of the top sheet. The soup had congealed where it fell and was now all but dried out.

"Messy boy," she thought.

She could see why it needed changing.

She wondered how long it had been like that. Things must be very busy on the ward. It probably hadn't helped that Jonathan had been asleep, otherwise it would have been done before now. It seemed that the hospital needed the services of volunteers, like her. She had almost felt pressed into service, but she knew she didn't really mind, even if the nurse had mistaken her for Mrs. Shelton.

Although Dorothy felt a little of a fraud, she also felt quite justified in carrying out her task. She was doing her bit to help, nothing more. She put the fresh sheet on the side cabinet and as she did so, looked below. Opening the small double doors in the unit, there was a small heap of crumpled clothing. She recognized it as Jonathan's cycling gear. She pulled it out. His top was ripped and marked with tar from where he had fallen, but the shorts and socks appeared to be undamaged, just a little dirty. She sniffed them gingerly. They smelt of him alright.

Curiosity got the better of her and she was about to peer inside his shorts, when something clattered onto the floor.

Dorothy looked down and was surprised by what she saw. There, at her feet, was a small watch strap, with a watch attached. It was a lady's watch. Momentarily she assumed it was Jonathans, but it looked a bit small for him and anyway she couldn't recall him wearing one.

She bent down, picked it up and turned it over. It was then that she recognized it as her own. Her missing watch, the one she hadn't seen for weeks. She had really missed it. It was a very reliable windup, one she had been given just after her graduation, some twenty or more years back. She flipped it over again and saw the face glass was scratched.

"What was it doing here?" She wondered.

She checked the dial under the glass. The second hand was moving steadily. She put it to her ear and could hear and almost feel the gentle ticking of the clockwork mechanism inside. Instinctively she went to wind it up, but after only a couple of turns it jammed solid.

She studied the little winding knob to the right of the face and with only a few seconds' inspection the problem was revealed. There were some small, light brown hairs wrapped around and between the winding knob and the case. And that wasn't the only problem. Looking more carefully at the strap between her fingers, she could now see some of the holes were quite enlarged, almost ripped and the brass buckle was misshapen, with the stitching to one end of the leather strap, badly frayed.

She had always taken good care of her watch. "How had it got into this state?"

"What on earth was it doing in the hospital, here, beside Jonathan's bed, mixed up in his clothes?"

Still puzzled; but, resigned to this enigma, she put it back on her left wrist once more for safe keeping, making a mental note that it would need to go to the jewelers for repairs.

She reached into the bag she had brought with her and pulled out the replacement clothes from home. There was a pair of underpants, jeans, a pair of socks and a couple of tops. She was sure they would all fit him ok as she now had a pretty good idea of his size. She moved them to the shelf in the little cupboard, exchanging them for the discarded cycle gear. Hesitating for a moment, she picked them up and placed them in her bag. She told herself that she would take them home, wash them, fix them if she could, and drop them round to his home later the following week. In any case he wasn't going to be cycling again for a few weeks until his right arm had properly set and healed. It was the least she could do for him.

Dorothy turned back to the bed and to her charge.

"Jonathan?" She called quietly.

"Jonathan?"

He didn't stir. She reached forward at the right side of the bed and picking up Jonathan's left hand squeezed the firm flesh gently. Nothing: He was definitely still deeply asleep just as the nurse had said. He looked calm. She didn't want to disturb him.

So this was it then. She leant over the bed, her face no more than a couple of feet from his. She looked into it. He was sweet. She examined his floppy hair, his eyelids, nose, lips, chin and his unshaven, but smooth cheeks; all fortunately undamaged from the accident. She was relieved. He was quite a looker.

She continued her stare, searching for a reaction whilst she reached under the top edge of the sheet and with both hands began to slowly to draw it back.

She saw that Jonathan was wearing one of those awful green papery hospital gowns. The neckline was a loose V ending, and lay open revealing his smooth torso to her.

She paused, she admired.

"He looks nice," she thought.

"I wonder what's next."

She lifted and pulled the sheet some more. There was a light honeycomb blanket on top and it came away too as the sheet peeled back.

She turned back to the prone youth and noticed that whilst he had been sleeping, his gown had ridden up, and so she was not so surprised, but not a little interested, when she saw his pubes. Soft light brown curly hairs, but no more really than a heavy fuzz.

A few more inches of sheet came off him and it was then that she saw it. Nestling amongst the down, like a sleeping, hairless, mouse and looking very soft, was his penis.

She caught her breath.

"It's so cute." She thought.

"And one of the few occasions it's shrunk to such a size, I don't doubt!" She smiled.

Another little move of the sheet and his testicles both came into view. They hung, full, and low. In comparison to his penis, Dorothy thought they looked huge. There was very little hair on them, not because it looked like he shaved, but rather because it hadn't grown yet.

"They look like a pair of soft ripe plums," she mumbled to herself, lost in wonder, and even as she watched, almost in response to her gaze, they shifted slightly in their scrotal sack.

She started to feel mean for looking. He was just an innocent young man, reacting to new sensations in the harsh, challenging and exciting world that he was fast maturing into. She felt embarrassed at her lechery.

"How could I be so nosey?" She asked herself.

"I should know better."

She finally removed the dirty sheet and dropped it in a heap on the floor. The lad's lower half was now entirely exposed to her. She could see some scratches on his right calf where he had hit the road and there were bandages presumably over cuts and grazes in about three places on his left. He had been lucky. It seemed, just a knock to the head and a broken arm, but not much else.

As she unfolded the new top sheet, her eyes wandered back up his half naked form. Although she tried to avoid doing so, they inevitably drifted towards and then rested on, his groin. She was only too well aware, from her own first hand observations, how large he could get when roused, even though her view of it had been shielded by his tight clothing before now, but she remained surprised at how small his penis was, at rest,

"Anyway that's enough ogling for now," she thought.

She had seen a lot more than she had expected to, but in changing his bedding, it felt like she was performing a medical duty. It was as though she were a virtual, if temporary, member of the nursing staff, so she didn't feel bad. It didn't feel wrong. She hadn't touched or done anything that she should be ashamed of.

She shook out the folds of the new sheet, but still she couldn't help but return her gaze to his exposed crotch. As she admired his fine smooth thighs and their contrast to the folded, wrinkled skin of his scrotum, it was then that she noticed some red marks. She paused in her act of throwing the clean sheet over him and instead bent down and looked at his balls more closely. Yes, there was definitely a red mark, quite distinct. It was under and around the right testicle, and turning her head to the other side, she could see it went around both.

Was it a sort of rash? It didn't look related to the accident. Perhaps he needed treating for it? Did the hospital realize? Had Jonathan been too immature and embarrassed to mention it to anyone?

She looked around the other side of his scrotum again and noticed that the red mark not only affected his balls, but also the side of his penis. The redness was right at its base and there was another almost square mark in the skin too. She stared. It was almost as if there had been something caught around, even tied around it all.

"Or fastened?" she whispered to herself, her eyes widening, in surprise at what she had just said.

Her face fell. She looked at her left wrist again and mouthed the words

"My watch?"

"Around his balls?"

"What?"

"How?"

"Why?"

It wasn't making much sense to her now, but yet another inspection of the red marks clinched it. The square mark on his penis matched the size and shape of the little brass buckle on the strap. The hairs jammed in the winder; were none other than some of Jonathan's fine, light brown, curly, pubes. The thought of him wearing her watch, in his underwear, and tightly fixed around himself: It confused her, bemused her; offended her.

Then, at length, she smiled very slightly, but only slightly.

"Oh I get it. He likes to be constricted, controlled, under the thumb." She thought.

"Hence my watch strapped around his balls."

"I wouldn't mind so much, but did he have to take it away and then cause so much damage?"

She looked down at the sleeping form. It still seemed very odd to her, but with a resigned shrug, "Well if that's what you want, that is what you shall get young man," she thought.

The motherly instinct to protect and care, dissipated, and was replaced with harder, tougher and frankly dirtier side of Dorothy's erstwhile pure mind.

"If you want something to keep yourself tied up and generally 'on the boil' my lad, then let's see what Mrs. Chester can find for you?" She muttered under her breath.

She looked down and into her handbag. There must be something in there; and there was.

In a few seconds she had found a small roll of dental floss, the one she used after meals when out and about.

"This will do nicely, but where to fix it?" she mused.

She looked at the little 'mouse', 'dozing' between his thighs. It couldn't be anywhere as obvious as where the watch had been strapped, or someone and certainly Jonathan, would notice.

She thought for a moment more and then smiled, congratulating herself on the idea. She turned back to the bedside cabinet. On top was a small card box containing latex gloves. Reaching in, she pulled out two. Despite her small fingers they were a tight fit, that and the fact that both her hands were now shaking in anticipation, made them difficult to get on.

She turned back to the sleeping boy and reached forward. An inch away from his penis she paused.

"What if he wakes?" She looked up at his sleeping face. He still seemed quite oblivious.

She reached out and touched him. The little 'mouse' felt soft, warm and smooth in her fingers. Bent over his groin, she lifted the dozy head easily and peered in at the opening at the tip. His foreskin was drawn well over, naturally protecting the glans. She half expected it to swell and rapidly harden with her gentle touch, but it remained sleepy. She coughed nervously and gripped the skin lightly with the fingers of her left hand and the began to slide it back. It moved easily. In less than three seconds the pink moist head appeared, like a freshly born baby mouse, naked, 'blinking', and smooth, into the bright light of the ward. Of course being a messy boy, she quickly noticed that he clearly didn't wash down there very often, as the smell hit her nose. She reached for a couple of packets of wipes off the cupboard top and gripping both in her teeth, pulled them both open with her right hand. She dabbed at the tip, down the sides, around the base of the head, finally drawing each wipe around the crease where the foreskin rolled forward from.

"That's better," she thought.

She let his penis drop onto his balls, reached for the floss reel, and broke off a two foot length.

It took about a minute, no more. She looked back at the head. Even she could hardly see her work and she knew where to look. She hardly imagined he would see it, as he obviously never checked under there judging by the cheesy debris she had just removed for him. Nestling in the crease of the head, but under his foreskin she had loosely wrapped the fine but strong, floss cord around him, about six times.

She had been intending to leave it at that, only it was then that her watch strap broke. It served to remind her of the damage that his unthinking actions had caused and it annoyed her. So instead, she picked up the two loose ends and tied them off with a knot; one for the bent buckle. She paused, and what about the scratched glass- she tied another; and moving on seamlessly, her nibble gloved fingers tied a third, for the torn strap. Whilst he could quite easily slip off her 'noose' when he was on the slack, she knew that when next aroused even slightly, it would become difficult and probably a little painful. If he got very big, well who knew what would happen.

"If he wants to feel a bite, that's what he's going to get. There's nothing better than dental floss to improve the bite, young man." She thought without guilt.

She reached for his crotch for the last time and gently slipped his floppy foreskin back up the shaft to hide her handiwork. Peeling off the gloves quickly, she pulled the clean sheet over him, tucked it in, replaced the blanket and opened the curtains.

Jonathan slept on. It had all taken less than five minutes.