*Note, I am still pretty new to writing erotic stories. This is a rewrite of my first chapter of my first chapter. And like many mind control stories, it starts in a hospital. This is because Meghan is inspired by a real nurse in a real hospital. But, don't worry. It doesn't stay in the there long. I hope you enjoy the rewrite. Please Comment and Please Vote.
P.S. Many thanks to my editor Miss_Minx
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chapter 1 (rewrite)
I am a 40 year old loser. At least, I was. No job, no car, no money, and of course, no girlfriend. I was riding my bike to the store one evening. It wasn't a great neighborhood, but I needed a couple of things, so I decided to get there and back as quickly as possible.
I wasn't going to win any races, but I wasn't exactly cruising either. As I was riding past a warehouse, someone jumped out, grabbed my handle bars, and steered me into a dumpster. At my rate of speed, this did some considerable damage to both me and my bike.
Being that all I had was very little money and the bike, that now had a bent rim and handle bars, my muggers decided to make me bleed a bit for their frustration. All I remember is a lot of pain, blood, and lying in something blue.
Apparently, I managed to crawl out to the road. Someone saw me and called an ambulance, anonymously, of course. I went to the emergency room, was told that I had a few fractured ribs, and a minor concussion, which seemed to surprise them, as I looked much worse. My clothes were ripped and covered in blood.
After a day in ICU, just to make sure they hadn't missed anything, they decided to keep me for a few more days, in a normal room. It seems that I qualified for some program or other to pay for my stay. And someone donated a pair of pants and a t-shirt to replace my bloody rags.
I had no one to send after my own clothes.
After being put in my new room, I soon met my daytime nurse (they work in 12 hour shifts, from 7am to 7pm). Her name was Meghan. She was nice, and friendly, but no more than the job required. She was a Registered Nurse, but she looked to be in her early 20's. She had a pretty face and long brown hair, which she kept in a ponytail. She had a smallish chest, but an ass that more than made up for it.
Although she wore a ring, I tried a little light flirting, and got absolutely nothing in return. She would smile at my lame jokes, but the conversation was limited, and she never talked about anything personal. Not that I expected much. I am middle aged, overweight, and balding.
As the days went on, I found myself fantasizing more and more about her. The hospital didn't see a need for a catheter, and I was minimally connected, so I could actually go to the bathroom, which I did more than once just to relieve my erection.
I found that it was increasingly hard to concentrate when Meghan was in the room. There were a few occasions that I considered myself lucky. She seemed to develop a habit of turning around when doing her paperwork. I certainly enjoyed the view. At one point as she was doing this near the bed, I put my hand on the edge of the bed, palm out, in hopes that she would rub up against it. She did. Then, she immediately withdrew and apologized. I, of course quickly removed my hand to hide the way I had positioned it.
On another occasion, I was sitting on the edge of the bed when she did this, I spread my legs, and she backed into me and kind of fell into my lap. Oh I enjoyed that. She apologized profusely and immediately left the room.
She didn't come back for a long while. I began to wonder if she was actually trying to flirt with me. When she finally returned, she did her best to keep her distance. Trying again to flirt with her, I mustered up the courage to tell her "It's alright Meghan; you can sit on my lap anytime." Her only response was a very stern, very cold look.
That answered that.
There were a few occasions when things would happen like she would rub up against me, or she would drop something on the floor and present her beautiful ass to me as she picked it up. Once she even seemed to be trying to show me her cleavage.
With the exception of these occasions, though, she remained completely professional, and gave me no doubt that she was NOT interested. I was a bit confused, but I became more and more obsessed with her. And these increasingly frequent occasions didn't help.
On the third day, I was in for a very pleasant surprise. As I lay there fantasizing about her, she came into my room with a sponge a washcloth and some soap. She helped me remove my gown and she filled the little plastic tub with warm water.
