Impact

I was lost in the darkness. I knew I should be able to wake up, but couldn't. Had something happened to me? Where was I? I had an impression of driving, an icy road, and losing control. Was that real, or was it a dream? My dreams were a mish-mash of images that I couldn't quite focus on. I was aware they were dreams, which is why I was certain I should be able to wake up.

Finally a sound came to my ears. It was a beeping sound, rhythmic and slow, also -- no definitely -- electronic in nature. I listened for a great long while, becoming aware of my own breathing first, then sensations in my body. The feeling of my feet under cloth. The weight of a blanket on me. An itching on the back of my hand, and the feeling of a tube there. The uncomfortable sensation of a catheter. I put it together, I was in a hospital. The foggy remembrance of an icy road might have been real after all. I also had a bad taste in my mouth -- like how I thought cotton balls should taste, cotton balls and dust.

I tried to open my eyes, but there was something over them. Bandages I assumed. I wanted to move my right hand over and scratch the itch on the left where the IV was obviously inserted. It moved sluggishly, as if not quite remembering how to. It was also stopped in less than an inch. Ok, so my arms were restrained -- why would my arms be restrained? Maybe so I couldn't move and hurt myself more?

I checked, both arms were restrained. My ankles were as well. I also realized there was yet another strap across my hips. Wow, it must have been some wreck to nearly immobilize me like this. I worked some spit into my mouth. It took a while. Eventually, I croaked, "Hello?"

Nothing happened. I waited, and nothing continued to happen.

I croaked again, "Anybody there?"

My throat was sore, obviously from lack of use. Where had I been driving? I couldn't remember. What could I remember? Flashes of something. Fuzzy flashes. Nothing concrete, nothing I could sink my teeth into and remember. I panicked a bit. What was my name? Surely I should know my own name. It swam up from my subconscious somewhere in a rich voice, my name was Mandy. I sighed, at least I knew my own name. It didn't sit quite right though. Had I always been Mandy? Was that a nickname or short version of Amanda? Did only my friends call me Mandy?

My thoughts were interrupted by a door opening and footsteps approaching me. I caught a faint whiff of flowers before a woman's voice said, "Amanda, are you awake?"

I practically sobbed with relief - I was right, it was Amanda. "Yes," my voice was whisper quiet.

"Oh, thank God," the voice said, "we have been so worried about you."

"Wha," I started before my voice failed again.

I tried to work up some spit, and the voice said, "Here, drink this." The end of a straw was placed against my lips, and I sucked in cool water. It felt wonderful, even if swallowing it was a bit painful.

I tried again after a few good long pulls on the straw, "What happened?"

My voice was normal, but I really didn't recognize it. Maybe the pain in my throat explained that.

"You were in a car accident," the voice told me, "you've been in the hospital for months."

I was shocked. Months had gone by?

"Why can't I see?" I asked her.

"Oh," she said, "Your face got badly damaged, and they had to do facial reconstructive surgery. You've had six operations in total to fix your face I'm afraid. The last one was only about a week ago. We think it was the last one. Everything should be back to normal -- we hope."

"Can you take the bandages off?" I asked. I'd been in the dark so long, I wanted to see again.

"Sure sweetheart," she told me, "I was going to take them off today anyway."

I could feel her hands on the side of my head as she undid the little hooks holding the bandages in place, then she started unwinding. It got brighter and I winced. "Let me turn the lights down lower and close the blinds," she said, and put the bandages down. They fell to my chest in a wad. I heard her click something then the rustle of venetian blinds. She came back, "Better?"

It was dimmer, and the light wasn't hurting my eyes anymore. "Better."

She continued to unwind, then took the pads off my eyes, and gasped, "Wow, you look perfect!"

I opened my eyes for what seemed like the first time in forever. I had to blink a few times against the brightness even in the dim room. A few moments past, and things came into focus. I was in a private hospital room. A very nice private hospital room. The walls were a champagne color with tasteful images of flowers and idyllic nature. A simple window, now covered by the blinds, was to my left, and real dark wood furniture -- a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, and a vanity were to my right. At the foot of the bed, there was a tv stand made of cherry or possibly oak, with at least a 60" LCD on it. In fact, the only thing that screamed hospital at all was the bed I was in with its high railings and the IV and monitor beside it, and a bin on the wall with the biohazard sign on it. I assumed that was for needles or sharps, or whatever they called the things. My nurse was a petite older woman, probably in her late fifties or so based on the greying hair. She had kind hazel eyes and wrinkles. Her nurse's uniform identified her as Maeve.

"Oh, where are my manners," she said, and picked up a hand mirror that she held up for me. I focused on it, and a stunning heart shaped face with perfect bee-stung lips and vivid blue eyes looked back at me. The crown of brown hair fell around the face adding contrast and depth. The image blinked long luscious lashed at the same time I did, and I was startled to realize that I was looking at myself. It took me a long moment to come to grips with that. I literally could not remember that this is what I looked like. I had to admit, I was pretty stunning.

"Now," Maeve said, "I think you are past tearing stiches in your sleep -- which is why we had you restrained. Let me remove these bindings." She unbuckled my right hand, then went around the bed and released the left one as well.

I rubbed at the tape behind the IV, where it still itched. It was awkward, however, as my boobs were getting in the way. I looked at my chest. I had pretty big boobs. Did I remember having big boobs? I couldn't remember a time in my life when I'd had big breasts. Surely that was something a girl would remember -- wasn't it? Although, I had to admit that I couldn't really recall much of anything of my life. I felt I should mention this, "Maeve," I said slowly, "I think I have amnesia. I can't remember much of anything."

She tut-tutted, "It was a pretty bad accident, and you had a big head wound. Cracked your skull pretty fiercely. I'm sure it will all come back soon enough." She unbuckled the strap across my waist. "Now dear, I need to take the catheter out -- are you ok with that?"

The tube felt uncomfortable now that she drew my attention to it, "I guess so."

Maeve pulled back my covers. I was dressed in a hospital gown that was tied at the side. Maeve twitched the fabric aside, and as the hospital bed was slightly angled up, I could see the catheter as it entered my penis. My brain did a flip-flop. Why did I have a penis? Everything about me screamed female. I had a woman's face -- I had seen that in the mirror. I had breasts. I could tell by the way that the gown fell that I had a small waist and flared hips. How in the world did I also have a penis?

Maeve said, "This might feel a bit weird dear." She pulled gently on the catheter and drew it out of my body. It felt very strange and weird. I was really glad when it was out, however. Maeve wheeled the small stand that held the collection bag, and its tube, down to the end of the bed. There she unbuckled my feet as well.

"Ok," she looked at me, "I need to take you to the actual bathroom -- make sure everything is working. I'm not sure you have the strength to get up, I should probably call for some help."

I did feel weak. Not only from lack of strength, but from shear confusion. Was I a transsexual? Isn't gender identity something you would think would stick in your mind? Apparently not, as I had no clue whatsoever. Since I didn't have any memories of my own to draw on, it isn't like I could call up going into the men's room, the woman's room, or changing for gym class. I was still mulling this over when an orderly, a fairly large, muscular guy with a goatee and a barbwire leaf motif tattoo on one arm came in to help. His name tag said 'Danny'.

He offered me his hand, "Miss?"

I took his hand in one of mine, and Maeve came to the other side. Between them, they managed to get me upright. My legs were far too weak to hold me, but they managed to support me the 12 paces it took to get to the bathroom. They helped me sit on the toilet, and the hospital gown flared enough to hide my modesty, for which I was grateful.

"We'll be right outside," Maeve patted me on the shoulder, "if you need is."

I sat, wondering if I could pee. I was hoping so, because otherwise I was certain they would have to put the catheter back in, and I really didn't want that. Eventually a small trickle came out. I was relieved. I took a square of toilet paper and dried the tip, then flushed and made sure my gown was in place. I tried to get up, but it was hard. My legs protested. The hand rails helped, and I managed to get to a standing position -- even though my legs were really wobbly. I was pretty much stuck at that though, I wasn't willing to risk crashing to the floor, and the hand rails didn't go all the way to the door.

"Maeve?" I called out.

The door opened, and Danny came in to help me, "Sorry, Miss, Maeve got called away. Let me help you back to the bed."

It wasn't so much a help, as me leaning heavily against him. He didn't seem to notice. I couldn't remember how tall I was, but whatever height I was, he was at least 6 inches taller. He was also built like a wall. We got back to the bed, and he helped me into it. As I adjusted my gown to make sure I wasn't flashing him, I did realize he was sporting a massive hard on. It was a little hard not to notice as the front of his pants were straining under it influence. I decided it was the best course not to draw attention to it. "Thanks, Danny," I told him.

He smiled, "No problem." He made sure I was all tucked back in, "Would you like something to eat? Its early afternoon, but I should be able to find you some food."

I realized I was super hungry, "That would be awesome." My stomach growled at the thought of actual food.

"I might even hit the jackpot and find you some of the lime Jell-O," he smiled.

He turned to walk away, and looked surreptitiously at the bulge in his pants. Somehow I was incredibly turned on, and I really wanted to know what he was hiding in those pants of his. I could envision myself undoing the button and zipper, then pulling out his long, hard cock and wrapping my lips around it. That somehow doing that would make me feel complete, make me feel like I was doing what I was supposed to.

The door closed behind Danny without me doing anything about it. The urge stayed there though. I was obviously a transsexual, and with thoughts like that, I was obviously attracted to men. I couldn't remember actually being with anyone -- man or woman -- but although I was now super horny, I took it as a good sign that some part of me was coming back. Maybe I always had thoughts like these?

I was also, I realized, sporting my own erection from the thoughts. I shifted a bit and reached under the covers to adjust myself to a better position. Touching my own cock brought a flash of memory. I recalled the first time I'd masturbated. It had been the summer I turned sixteen, and Sally Jenkins and I had hidden in her parent's barn. We'd kissed, then she had decided we needed to 'show each other'. We had shyly taken off our clothes and looked at each other's bodies. Her breasts and the dark thatch of hair between her legs were seared into my memory. She had masturbated for me, and I had masturbated for her. She thought it was funny when cum had shot out of my dick and landed on her leg.

That was all there was to the memory. I didn't know if I'd ever seen her again, if we'd ever done anything else together. I guess that first kiss and the first time I'd seen a girl naked had been enough to make it a vivid memory. I tried to think about Sally, but it was a blank slate. I was still gently stroking myself when I heard the door handle turn, and withdrew my hand quickly.

Danny came back into the room wheeling a cart with food on it. There were a couple covered dishes and a saran wrapped bowl of green Jell-O. "Hey," he said, "It does indeed look like I hit the jackpot."

God, I felt so horny, I wanted nothing more than to rip his cock out of his pants and suck on it.

"Are you ok?" He asked me, and I realized I hadn't lifted my eyes from staring at his crotch thinking about how good it would feel to have the length of him in my mouth.

I cleared my throat, "Sorry, I was daydreaming and trying to remember anything at all."

He sat on the side of the bed, and looked into my eyes, "Maeve told me you couldn't remember anything. It must be really hard not remembering anything."

I nodded, noticing that his crotch was within a hand's reach. All I had to do was reach out and touch the bulge there. It would be so easy. "Yeah. I don't even remember the accident."

He nodded solemnly, "Maybe that is a good thing? After all, it seems like the plastic surgeons did a fantastic job. I saw some pictured of what you looked like when you were admitted, and it was not good. I would say you're one lucky girl -- like you hit the jackpot."

My hand twitched on its own, and I only just barely caught myself before it was in his lap. He stood to draw the cart closer, and my eyes were once again fixed on the bulge in his pants. I needed his cock more than I needed food. It was all I could think about. Sucking his cock would make me so happy. It would complete me. I needed to have his cock in my mouth. I needed the smooth texture against my tongue and to breathe in his manly scent.

"Amanda?" He asked.

I broke off my gaze and looked up at him, feeling wretched. He smiled down at me, and took my hand. He placed it gently on his crotch. That was all I needed. Weak though I was, I was fumbling at the button and zipper. He helped, and his pants fell away as he pushed them and his boxers down. Now naked from the waist down, his glorious member came into view. It was magnificent. A good eight or nine inches, bulging with veins, and a questing glans just pushing out from the foreskin. He straddled me on the bed, his cock right in front of my face. I wrapped one hand around it, feeling the warm soft skin contrast against the hardness of him, then pulled him into my mouth. It was everything I hoped it would be. His pre-cum was already oozing a bit and tasted wonderful. The salty tang was just what I needed. I used my hand as an extension of my mouth, to both move the skin on the shaft for added sensation, but also to prevent him from going too deep into my throat. I sucked and slurped, my tongue trying to be everywhere at once on his amazing dick. My other hand found his balls, and I couldn't get enough of them. They felt so soft, warm, and alive in my hand.

I felt his balls start to contract, and knew without a doubt that he was going to cum. His groans had grown too, and I knew that he was feeling wonderful. That I was making him feel that way. That this is what I was really good at, and what I was supposed to be doing. I went faster, wanting that cum in my mouth. I wanted to taste his load, to roll it around my mouth and savor it before swallowing it. He didn't disappoint. His cock jumped a bit in my mouth, then hot sperm filled my mouth. The salty, yet slightly sweet, fluid was everything I had hoped for. My taste buds went wild for it, and I continued to pump him, wanting every drop. He was good for 3 long spurts into my mouth, and after I swallowed it all, I used my tongue to probe the end of his urethra for anything I might have left behind. Reluctantly I withdrew, his now semi-erect cock popping from my mouth.

I felt better than I had since waking up. I was also aware that I had reached orgasm at the same time he had. There was warm, wet, and sticky against the gown and my abdomen. I felt slightly embarrassed about that. There was also no way I was telling Danny about it either.

"Wow, Amanda," he breathed, "you are amazing."

"I try," I giggled. Did I giggle? I guess I did. "I guess I just really needed to do that."

He got off the bed, and I was sorry to see him go. I wanted to grab that tight ass of his, pull his cock back into my mouth, and see if I could make junior wake up again. "You should probably eat the food I brought you," He actually wheeled it into place now. Then he lifted off the covers. It was some shredded chicken, rice, and carrots on one plate. The other held mashed potatoes, corn, and a couple slices of turkey with brown gravy.

I inhaled deeply, then grabbed a fork and had a mouthful of the potatoes before I'd even thanked him. Around the full mouth, I sighed out, "Thanks!"

He laughed, "I should thank you -- that was the best blowjob I've had in a long time. I really hit the jackpot this morning when I pulled my shift."

I wanted him again. I wanted his cock again. I wanted it in my mouth, and I think I even wanted him to bury the length of it in my ass. I could envision lying with my head down, my ass up, and his hips slapping against my cheeks as his long, hot cock pounded deep inside me. I blinked a couple of times. The food was really distracting. It was a close call of telling Danny to take me, or another mouthful of potato.

"Amanda," he said softly, "You eat, I'll be back later to collect the dishes."

I watched him go. When the door closed, and I knew he wasn't coming back immediately -- no matter how my mouth and ass ached for him to fill them -- I shifted my attention back to the food. I ate everything -- including the famous lime Jell-O -- which wasn't all that good.

When I was done wolfing down the food, and my belly was full, I used one of the napkins to clean myself up a bit. My cum had mostly dried, leaving me a little itchy, but a bit of my own spit loosened it up. The wet spot in my gown would dry eventually.

My mood was buoyed by feeling full, and there was some relaxation inherent in an after orgasm state. I basked in it, fantasizing about what I wanted to do to Danny when he returned. It occurred to me that I was acting like a slut. Here I was, unable to recall much of anything, and the first guy I see I go down on? What kind of girl was I? I realized I wasn't a genetic girl, but I'd really wanted to be while I was sucking on Danny. It wasn't love, I definitely didn't love him, I was just craving sex. I wanted it to validate myself.

God, when had that happened? When was that an ok thing? Why would having sex with a complete stranger be an ok way to validate my own sense of being? Sure, I could argue with myself on this point, but the truth was, my subconscious was telling me that was the case. That being wanted by, and having sex with, multiple men was the only way of measuring my own value.

I tried to find another memory somewhere in my own skull. When had I changed from the shy boy who masturbated with Sally, and was completely embarrassed when I shot sperm onto her leg. So embarrassed that it was at least a week before I could talk to her properly again, and another week after that that we had experimented further and I'd licked her pussy and she had sucked my cock.

Electricity shot through me. I remembered more of my relationship with Sally. I remembered exploring sex with Sally. It had been one of the best summers of my life. We'd spent hours enjoying each other's bodies in that barn. I'd loved her so completely that I could never stop thinking about her, and we'd been together all through the remainder of high school.