The Power Ch 01 1

"Mr. Alexander?" The voice came to me through a haze of narcotic euphoria. "Mr. Alexander, can you hear me?"

I tried to speak but was unable to force my vocal cords to vibrate. "Where am I?" I silently mouthed, not sure if my lips had obeyed the command from my brain. I tried to open my eyes, and that's when the pain hit me, spiraling me into welcomed unconsciousness.

"Mike? Oh my God! Mike!" The woman's voice seemed somehow familiar to me, but I couldn't quite place it. "Doctor," the voice called from the doorway, "come quick! Somebody, help me! He's awake!"

I cracked open my eyes, and the first thing I noticed was the table at the side of my bed. On it was a vase of flowers of some kind – mums, I thought, not really sure. Then it registered in my conscious mind that they, and everything else I looked at were in focus. "Damn," I muttered, reaching for my face, "they forgot to take off my glasses."

As my arm responded to my command to reach up, I felt very weak, as if the task involved bench-pressing a Buick. Slowly, inexorably, my hand reached my chin, and taking another deep breath, I forced it to slide up my face to my glasses – which weren't there. What the hell?

Just then a crowed of white-lab-coated men and women burst into the room, led by an aging gentleman with medium length gray hair, glasses and a wide smile. I assumed he was a doctor. At his side was a woman, the only person not wearing a lab coat, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"I know you," I thought. "Sis?" I finally managed to croak – what the hell happened to my voice – it sounded and felt like an elephant had tap-danced on my vocal chords.

My sister, Sandy, gave a small squeal of delight and pounced on my chest, flinging her arms around my shoulders. "Mike, I can't believe it! You're awake!" she cried. "I just can't believe it."

The gray-haired doctor was beaming and said, "Well, Mr. Alexander, welcome back."

"From where?" I croaked.

"Mr. Alexander," he continued, motioning to another hospital staff to disengage my weeping sister, "what is the last thing you remember?"

What the hell kind of question was that? I struggled with the answer. Then I remember. I had just left the house to go to my favorite place, Cascade Hills golf course.

"Golf," I half-whispered.

"Good, good!" the doctor smiled. "Miss Perkins," he said over his shoulder to a young medical attendant, "please get Mike some water."

"Yes, Dr. Rider," she said in a perky, up-beat voice. As she moved to the doorway, I noticed a suggestive sway to her hips that woke me up in places I forgot were asleep.

"Mike," Dr. Rider said, turning back to me, "do you remember your golf game?"

Strange. I struggled with it. "Not really," I finally admitted, "Why?"

"Mike, on the 7th hole, as you teed up, it started to rain. According to your golf partners, everyone ran for cover. Unfortunately, before you got to shelter, you were struck by lightening."

Holy shit! "What?" I exclaimed, suddenly finding my voice. "I what? No!"

"Yes, you were hit by lightening, but obviously, you survived." He paused, and his look grew grave. "Mike, that's not all. The date you were struck was June 14th 2007."

I felt a cold chill start to creep up my spine. Just then Miss Perkins supplied me with a small paper cup and straw, which I sipped at somewhat clumsily. After a small swallow of clear, cool water, I asked, "So what day is it today?"

Sandy, now more composed than before walked to my bedside, and seating herself at my side took the cup gently from me and said, "Mike, it is October 10th."

"Holy Christ!" I exclaimed, refusing to accept it.

"Two-thousand-ten," she finished.

I stared at her with blank incomprehension. Then the bed slowly began to spin, and as it picked up momentum, I heard Dr. Rider say, "Miss Perkins, catch him!"

The smell was horrible, stinging my nose and making me gag. I tried to turn my head away and push at it with my hands at the same time. "That's it," I heard Dr. Rider say, becoming more clear with every syllable, "he's coming around."

"I'm sorry, Mike," he said, as I opened my eyes. He was now seated at my side with a vial of smelling salts in his hand. "I intended to break the news to you a little more gently," he said, casting a withering glance at my sister. "But now you know the worst."

"Why?" I asked.

"Why were you unconscious for so long?" he said, standing and taking on a professorial air. "Clinically, most victims who survive a lightening strike regain consciousness within a few minutes and regain their full faculties within a few hours or possibly days."

"So why was I different?"

"Actually, we don't know. The fact that you remained unconscious was an indication of severe brain trauma. However CT and MRI scanning did not show any significant damage, just some minor swelling here and there. Your EEG was normal – well almost normal. Of course there were certain areas that were depressed and some that were elevated – not uncommon in someone who is unconscious."

"So?"

"So you wouldn't wake up. That's it. You could have – and eventually did – wake up at any time, but you just wouldn't."

"So I have been in a coma for over 6 years?" I nearly shouted.

"No. A coma is a level of consciousness below sleep. You weren't exactly unconscious, you were just asleep."

Okay, maybe. But then a thought struck me. "What about the rest of me?"

"Physically, you are in excellent health. You did lose some weight while you were gone, obviously, and your muscles have atrophied – they've shrunk from inactivity, but everything else is fine. Heart, liver, kidneys, genitals – everything works normally."

I blushed somewhat at that, but had to ask, "Genitals?"

"Yes," he smiled – just like a doctor. "You would periodically experience erections and sometimes night emissions. Again, this is not uncommon in comatose patients – or those that are asleep either."

"So why do I feel like someone lit a fire in my..." I broke off, embarrassed.

"You probably have a burning sensation in your penis," he explained clinically, "because while you were out just now, we took the opportunity to remove your catheter. We were about to remove it for the evening anyway."

"Oh." I paused for a moment then remembered something. "How come I don't need glasses to see clearly?" I asked.

"I'm sorry?" Dr. Alexander looked puzzled – not a good thing.

"Everything I look at is in focus, but I'm not wearing my glasses," I explained. "Why is that?"

"Well, to be honest, Mike, this is the first any of us has heard this. Obviously, with you being asleep, we had no idea that your eyes could focus clearly. We'll schedule you for an appointment with the head of ophthalmology tomorrow." Dr. Alexander, although surprised at this development didn't seem too anxious, so I calmed down.

"So what happens now?" I asked.

"Well, let me introduce you to some very special people," he said, turning to the others in the room. "This is Dr. Olsen," he said, "gesturing to a medium height, slightly overweight man with a full beard. He appeared to be in his mid-forties. "Dr. Olsen is the head of Rehabilitative Therapy, and will be in charge of reconditioning your body so that you can walk, run, drive and do everything else that your muscles have forgotten."

"Hello," Dr. Olsen said pleasantly. "This is your case worker and personal therapist, Mrs. Logan," Dr. Olsen said pointing to a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties. Her hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and she had a pinched and determined face. She could have been rather eye-catching if she didn't look like such a bitch.

"This is Mrs. Gordon," Dr. Rider continued, "she is your nutritionist and she will work with you on weight gain and meal planning."

"Pleased to meet you," Mrs. Gordon said with a big smile.

Wow! Mrs. Gordon was about five feet, seven inches tall, light red hair and a body that had curves in all the right places. Obviously, she took her nutrition seriously.

"Mike," Sandy said, interrupting, "how are you feeling?"

"Like I just got hit by a Mack truck," I said, "but there's no pain. I'm just really tired." Then I corrected myself, "No, not tired – weak, fatigued, you know?"

Sandy smiled warmly. "I usually visit once or twice a week. I am so happy that I was here when you woke up! I've already called mom, and she's going to catch the next flight out. I've got to get home to my kids – the daycare charges double for every hour I'm late. I'll come see you tomorrow." Then she leaned over and kissed me. "Bye."

"See ya," I said. Then another thought occurred to me, "what time is it?"

"About 6:30 PM," Miss Perkins said.

"Can I get something to eat?"

"We need to start you out slowly," said Mrs. Gordon with a smile that was surprisingly firm. "Clear fluids only for the first 24 hours, then we can move up to soft foods like pudding and mashed potatoes. We'll see how you handle that and then go from there."

Dammit. "So a big juicy rib-eye steak is out of the question?" I said teasingly.

She laughed, "Until you can handle the softer stuff, yes."

"I can think of a lot of softer stuff I could handle," I thought eyeing her curvaceous body.

Her eyes widened in surprise and I distinctly heard her thought, "I'm sure you could!"

I blinked a couple of times. Did I hear her say something? I looked at the others in the room, and they remained unfazed by this teasing exchange. In fact, Dr. Olsen was trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.

Dr. Rider continued. "Well, Mike, we'll talk some more tomorrow, and I'm sure Dr. Olsen will have your exercise regimen outlined by then." Dr. Olsen gave an unenthusiastic thumbs-up.

As everyone started to shuffle out Mrs. Gordon unlooped a stethoscope from around her slender neck. "I just want to listen to your tummy before we start sending it food," she smiled. As she approached I eyed her well-filled blazer and silently wished she would unbutton it. Seemingly without thinking, she unbuttoned the single gold button on her blazer and put the stethoscope earpieces in her ears.

She smiled again at me, and I started to feel life in a long-dormant part of my anatomy. I could feel my hospital gown rubbing against my cock as the blood slowly inflated it. God, her perfume was intoxicating.

She leaned pulled the covers down from my chest to my knees, and I flushed in embarrassment from the tent that was growing down below. She didn't seem to notice as she leaned forward to press the cold instrument to my abdomen. I couldn't help glancing down the front of her blouse and was rewarded with a glimpse of lacey white bra supporting two impressively sized globes of flesh.

My cock, which had been wavering at half-mast, sprang to attention. I saw her glance down. "Oh, yummy!" I heard her say – or so I thought. However, I was sure I didn't see her lips move.

"I can't hear very well," she said, rising up. "Do you mind if I lift your gown out of the way?"

"Uh," I stammered, painfully aware of my rigid cock – it was beating time with my heart rate. My thoughts were racing, "Only if you help me with my throbbing cock," I thought.

Without another word, she tugged at the closures that were tied on the side of my hip and slowly pulled my gown up. I glanced nervously at the door, wishing that someone had closed it. Just then, Miss Perkins, without so much as a glance into the room, reached in and tugged it shut.

"There," said Mrs. Gordon, "I should be able to hear now," and she placed the icy stethoscope headpiece on my stomach. I flinched in response. "Oh, sorry," she said, laughingly. "Let me warm it up a bit." She then cupped the stethoscope in her hands.

"I bet your tits could warm it up," I thought, glancing once more to her chest – was that a nipple starting to show through her bra and blouse?

"This will take too long," Mrs. Gordon stated, and then, unbuttoning the top two or three buttons on her blouse, she tucked the stethoscope inside her bra, underneath her left breast. "Oh!" she jumped, causing her tits to jiggle, "that is cold!"

My cock jumped at the sight! God, I wanted to fondle them. Christ, I wished I could move my hands, but I had no strength!

"Well, let me see if I can hear anything without the scope," Mrs. Gordon said. And with that she bent full over, causing her boobs to nearly spill completely out of her bra. I could now easily see the reddish-brown hint of her areola peeking above the lace. She placed her ear directly on my stomach. My heart skipped a beat, and my mouth went dry. I noticed that I was sweating and that my breath was accelerating. Then I realized that with her head turned away, she was looking directly at the head of my cock as it bounced and waved in time with my heartbeat.

"Oh, fun!" I heard her thoughts again. "I wish I could play with that!"

I paused for a moment, and pushed my thought out. "Touch it," I commanded wordlessly.

She brought her right hand up over my hip and ran her fingers lightly over the head of my throbbing cock. "Oh God," I thought, "that feels good! Grab it and stroke it!"

I felt her smile and without moving her head, her hand encircled my cock and began tugging up and down on it. I was in heaven. I hadn't been with a woman for weeks before my lightening strike, and my body had been announcing its need periodically throughout my unconscious state.

I wanted to put my cock someplace warm, wet and willing. I needed to come. Just then, I felt Mrs. Gordon raise her head from my stomach and watched in dumb amazement as she journeyed down to my penis.

She tentatively licked the underside of the head, and I thought I was going to lose it right then, but her hand gripped the base of my cock firmly, and I backed down from the brink. Slowly, but firmly, her moist lips encircled the head, and her mouth provided a gentle sucking sensation, as if she intended to suck my load out from my balls.

She continued to move downward and I felt my tool slide further and further down her mouth and then pop into her throat. I was amazed – no one had ever deep-throated me before! Then she reversed direction and slowly made her way back up to the top, paused for a moment and slid back down, but with increasing tempo.

This continued for about a minute, but it felt like an eternity. I heard her moan softly, and her voice caused a vibrating sensation up and down my cock. My balls tightened up, and I knew that I was about to come. "Oh God, here it comes," I thought.

As if she had heard me, she pulled back until just the head was in her mouth and began furiously jacking my shaft with her hand. "Ugggh, Unnnnhhhhhh!" I grunted, not wanting to alert the nursing staff outside. And my load boiled up from the base of my balls to first ooze out of the tip of my cock as pre-cum. Then my whole body jerked as my orgasm exploded through my loins, ejecting rope after rope of hot, thick semen into her willing mouth. I felt her tongue flex on the head and realized that she was swallowing my come! This caused another spasm and another surge of cum. Slowly, the tide ran out, and as I gasped for air, she calmly, and without hesitation, licked me clean, making sure that there was nothing left behind.

"Holy shit!" I thought, "That was great!"

She smiled as she stood up and pulled her stethoscope out of her blouse. I could see her nipples outlined clearly like little pencil erasers pointing up from her chest. "I think this is warmed up now," she said and placing it on my abdomen, listened intently.

"Well," she said, "I can hear your digestive tract making noises, so that's a very good sign. We may be able to put you on solid foods sooner than I expected."

"But not before I get a chance to sample some soft foods, I hope," I said, smiling wickedly at her erect nipples. "Mrs. Gordon, you are great!" I said aloud.

She smiled back, "Thanks," she said, grabbing up her jacket with one hand and draping her stethoscope around her neck with the other. "And by the way, please call me Cassandra."

"Okay, Cassandra," I said smiling. "When will I see you again?"

"I'll need to check up on you everyday for the next few days, and we'll see where it goes from there."