He looked around. He was young in the private room he time'd paid through the nose for. Bad images enough that he had to be youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime sick, and helpless--he'd been determined he wouldn youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime't be crammed in with strangers while doctors and nurses pawed him over. It wasn't that he hated people; it was boys just that boys he didn't like having them first around when he was feeling so vulnerable and couldn boysfirsttime't get away youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime.
He tried to say something, but youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime all that came out was a hoarse young croak.
Paul allowed himself to be soothed boys. He didn't really young have much choice, after all; either he'd be okay or he wouldn't, but he was in boys no young position to leap up and make a break for it. After a while, he went to sleep again.
"Yes, Mr. Bennett," Rhonda said. She giggled and began peeling off her brassiere, undulating and humming a little strip-club tune to herself. She dangled the garment in young front of images him time briefly, then threw it away. After that, she went still again boys, beautiful boobs swaying freely mere inches from his youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime face boysfirsttime.
"No, Rhonda," Paul said. "You won't tell anyone. Any time you try, you'll forget all about young it before you say or write young a word." He smiled maliciously. "And you'll take off your shirt and bra, too, and keep them off for at least five minutes. Besides," the evil smile grew wider, "even if I young let you, what would you tell them?"
He regarded her for a moment. "One boys thing," he said. "'Mr. Bennett' is too formal, if we're young going to be boysfirsttime," he boysfirsttime smirked, "working closely boys together. From now on youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime, you'll young only call me that if other people are around. When we're alone, it's 'master.' Do boys you youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime understand?"
"Good," Paul responded youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime, restraining the urge young to use Rhonda's sexual boys trigger again. Time boysfirsttime enough young for that youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime later. "Now, Rhonda, it's time for you to go about your duties. You can go."
Without a word youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime, Rhonda fled.
"How are we doing, Mr. Bennett?" the youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime middle-aged youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime man in youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime the clean white young coat asked. "Your chart indicates you're making a pretty good recovery, but the charts don young't show everything."
Paul blanched . It time hadn't worked boys. Was young--whatever it was--gone? Or had it never been real at all? Had his puppeting of Nurse Rhonda been nothing more than an anesthetic-induced dream youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime? He had to boys find out.
"Shh," Paul said. "Not another word." Instantly young, Jasmine fell silent, looking scared.
It was possible, he supposed. He'd heard that the hearing ranges of men and time women young were slightly different, with women being more sensitive to higher frequencies than men were. If young the "something extra" his voice had gained were some magic high frequency, it might affect men and women differently.
Jasmine was still boys turning, turning on tiptoe, hands clasped youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime over her head. Her eyes were closed now, her lips slightly parted. Clearly, she was enjoying herself in the fantasy he'd built for her. It almost young seemed a shame to end it young, but he'd learned boys enough.
"Very boys good, Jasmine. Now finish up your nurse's youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime duties here and go on with boys your youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime rounds ."
Paul recalled an old line from the comics he'd read as a kid: "With great power comes great responsibility." It had always struck him as corny, but now--.
Until now.
"Of course not, Charlene," Paul responded. Charlene young whimpered and trembled, and as he turned to go youngboysfirsttime-boysfirsttime, she almost called out for him young to stay.
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