Ruth was having a quiet day. She hadn't seen James, Karen or, for that matter, Bob for a week now. Various middle-aged ladies had come in and looked after her. She was lying quietly—she always lay quietly, and that was her trial—but her mind was quiet as well. She flexed the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. She was sure there was more movement in her hand than yesterday and even a knee seemed to be bending a bit though, from where she lay, she couldn't see it.
Her thoughts turned, as they quite often did, to sex. When she was better would she still have this power? Would she need it then? After all, what she would like was a steady boyfriend not a succession of impressed men. Though, as she thought about it, there was an attraction in that as well. She speculated. Could she control more than one at once? She imagined herself in the shower, not with one man, not just with two but getting greedy with three. She could feel their hard penises touching her as they soaped her—a hand on one breast, a different man's hand on the other, hands rubbing her thighs, fingers touching her bottom. A penis just nosing the crack, another rubbing its head against her thigh. She imagined herself being dried with big fluffy white towels and picked up and carried to the bed by men. White sheets. Gentle kisses. Seduction. Softness. Or... would she like something a little stronger, her mind wandered from one idea to another, she imagined herself in black leather, a riding crop in hand, using it on a naked young man bent over a bar. She imagined the redness of his bottom and the hardness of his penis as she punished him. Ruth felt herself getting quite wet with the imagery in her head. What would she do to the poor young man next? Would she reach under him and bring him to a manual climax or would she deny him that pleasure leaving him standing and unfulfilled? Perhaps she would make him watch as she copulated with another man. Standing, staring, desperate, wanting to take her but callously denied by Ruth—denying him with another man. Her daydream paused as her mind moved. Why, she thought, am I being so cruel to the young man—do I like that idea, do I want to be cruel? Her eyes opened. Why am I stuck here like this unable to touch myself? It is so frustrating. The excitement was gone. Ruth felt the frustration and misery of her condition. When would it end?
Ruth brightened, and her spirits lifted, when Karen appeared later that day. "I see someone who is just like you," said Karen, "well I mean with the same problem. He is, of course, not just like you at all—being a boy."
Ruth was interested and intrigued. She asked questions. The idea that there was someone, a boy moreover; who was ill like her was fascinating. It sounded a bit like 'Marianne Dreams'—only she hadn't been dreaming of him and she hadn't even known of his existence—so it was quite different really. A rather silly comparison therefore. Perhaps a bit more like 'Marianne and Mark' only she wasn't better and nor was he.
How old was he, what was he like, had Karen told him about her, was he getting better, how much could he move? Could he move anything?
"Well," laughed Karen as she soaped Karen's thighs, "he's certainly got one limb that moves very well indeed—when you touch it." Her hand rubbed the soap across Ruth's pubis.
Ruth looked puzzled for a moment and then got it, "Oh," she said, "his cock—oh do tell me! Do you, do you make it work?"
"What a way of putting it—of course I don't."
"Does he just lie there with it sticking up? How big is it? What do you do?"
"I don't do anything. Well of course I have to touch it to wash it."
"Do you linger a bit to be kind?"
"No—of course not."
"Well I think you should. You should do more than that. You should make it come. You must. And tell him I said you should!"
"Oh yes, I don't think so!"
"Well, did you?" said Ruth on Karen's next visit.
"Did what?"
"You know, with the boy."
"Well, actually, I did."
"Tell me."
"I always start on Jason's back, like, Ruth, I often do with you, and when I turn him over there is always this big hard-on sticking up in the air. I say 'always' because it happened the very first time. It's not exactly unusual for that to happen with men but not the first time I wash them. He did say 'sorry' but the trouble is even if it is hard you still have to wash it which rather makes the whole thing worse, lifting it up, touching it—then it twitches."
"Oh yes," said Ruth—she liked the idea of the twitching. It was a pity James or Bob was not there—she would like to see a bit of twitching. "So this time?"
"I said, 'Jason what is this every time I come here?' You know, he really blushed. He said he couldn't help it. Then I noticed he'd had a wet dream."
"A what?"
"Really Ruth, where've you been?"
"In bed mostly," said Ruth with some asperity.
"Sorry, Ruth, but you know what I mean. A nocturnal emission—he came in the night."
"What, just like that without being touched."
"Yes, its all in his mind as he dreams, he gets hard, then comes. All boys do it sometimes apparently."
Ruth was quiet for a bit as Karen washed. "I wonder," she said after a bit, "whether I can make men come just by thinking?" She paused, "So, what did you do then?"
"When? Oh yes, I asked him what his dream had been. Well I didn't quite put it like that, I said, 'good dream last night, Jason?' You should have seen him blush again. I really was being rather cruel. And I remembered what you had said and just ran my finger right along the top of his cock and said, 'go on tell me what was your dream about?' He didn't want to tell me at first and actually when it came out it was quite lame, just him kissing a girl he knew."
"And did you keep stroking him?"
"Yes, and I told him about you and about how you found it so frustrating just lying still and he said it was just the same for him and apart from his wet dreams he hadn't come for three months. He asked what you were like, what you looked like. I didn't tell him how you can get men to do what you want though."
"Did he come?"
"Of course he came, I'd have been a bit disappointed in myself if he hadn't, given what I was doing to him?"
"Did you suck him?"
"Ruth! You are naughty. No, I didn't blow him."
"I just wondered—I wonder what it's like?"
"What sucking cocks?"
"Yes Karen."
"Well its like, like well you've had a banana in your mouth."
"Not for a long time. I can't hold things remember."
"Yes I know, well it's like that only bigger. It's nice and the boys love it."
"What's it taste like when he comes?"
"Ruth, what am I to do with you, really? Shall we get James or Bob here to produce and I can feed you a taste with a spoon?"
The girls laughed.
"So he came?"
"Yes of course he did, just actually as I was answering his question about your breasts."
"What question?"
"He wanted to know what shape they were, what colour your nipples were and the man question of how big they were."
"And then he came?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"I didn't measure it Ruth, he just came, splat, splat, splat on his tummy."
"Karen, I want to meet Jason."
"And how are you going to manage that?"
Ruth did not have an easy answer to that so she let the idea drop for the time being
By now Karen was near to finishing on Ruth.
"Ruth I've brought something for you."
"Ooh what?"
"I brought something with me that might help." From her bag she pulled a bright orange fluorescent dildo. "It's so you can see it in the dark, I suppose," Karen explained.
"Oh wow, I hadn't expected that. Different. It's very kind of you Karen but how am I supposed to..."