Caution: This Science fiction Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Mind Control, Heterosexual, Fiction, Science Fiction, Slow, Science fiction adult story, sci-fi adult story, science-fiction sex story, sci-fi sex story.
Desc: Science fiction Drama Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A young man has a horrific accident, and as he recovers he consciously starts to forget times of his life kind of like Alzheimer's episodes, or maybe it's just that dreaded CRS (Can't Remember Shit) disease that a lot of older people who get forgetful claim to have. However, maybe, it is something more; something much older and more malevolent than just forgetting. Take a roller-coaster ride along with Rob and see if you can understand what is happening to him.
I have got a tale to tell, and it is a doozie. Most will never believe, and others will cringe several times as they read this horrific tale that happened to me. I had always thought that I was a good guy, I didn't eat, drink, or do any other thing to excess, but Karma has a way of sneaking up on you and wham; you are flat on your back and can't understand what happened. This is kind of what happened to me.
Me? I'm Robert Stanton Preston. Most people call me Rob; I'm 26 years old, single, 6'-1" and about 195 pounds. I have been called handsome by some and above average in looks by others. I am the supervisor of product operations, one step down from the position of Production Manager of Operations for CRS Manufacturing in Taylor, Texas. We manufacture metal products that most everyone has seen in a hospital, i.e. cabinets, bed pans, hospital beds, gurneys, etc. If it's metal and in a hospital somewhere, then we probably make it. We do quite well and have been ever since Cletus Johnson, Rodney Peterson, and Stanton Evans broke away from their boring jobs and created this company twenty-four years ago. I have a sister, Sylvia, that is the chief accountant for the company who is 40 and Cletus's son, James, 36, is the director of marketing and sales. Rodney's daughter Judy, also 36, is the manager of administration and support. Furthermore, Cletus's wife 'Miss Dorothy' is the lobby receptionist. Yeah, there is some nepotism in the company.
Oh yeah my dad is Stanton Evans. He and my mother had a little falling out after he, and his secretary were caught in flagrante delicto in his office by my mother Grace Marie Evans. Mom has since remarried, and I was adopted over my father's wishes. However, since I have been a teenager, my real dad and I have been close. Mom finally relented when he, and I would sneak off to just be guys. My step father Ronald Preston was a milk-toast city dweller and knew nothing of country life. I was raised inside the Austin metro area, well actually first it was West Lake Hills and then Lakeway, which are ritzy bedroom communities for the rich and famous of the Austin area. My sister could go with my father when the split came about when I was two, and she was twelve.
However, once I was about 14; I rebelled and really got to know my father. He was a great guy; he made a mistake, but my mother couldn't forgive him and tried her damnest to turn me away from him. I was two when she divorced dad, and I never knew him until I started rebelling. My step-dad Ronald (not Ron or Ronnie, just Ronald) was some rich investment banker whom my mom fell head over heels for, and since he was of the hoity-toity set, she became just like him. Ronald tried to have me call him father, but that never took. So you can see what kind of childhood I had. However, to both their chagrin, I ended up looking more like my father as I grew older. This was another slap in the face for my mother as she had really loved my father. I became a constant reminder of what she gave up, so I was shipped off to prep schools, academies and such to learn how to be a gentleman and maybe take over my step father's job when he retired.
Even at a young age this did not appeal to me, but I really wanted a first-rate education so my rebelling was not against school, but the discipline at home and the total lack of respect that I was shown there.
During my summer vacation when I was 14, my mother had taken a trip to San Francisco to look at some art that she and Ronald wanted to buy. I was left alone at home with instructions to clean up the attic. I went up there and found all kinds of things, among which was a file folder of Mom's divorce papers. I found out who my real father was and his last-known address was in Taylor. I did a little research on the computer and found that he still lived in Taylor at the same address, and I even got his phone number. I also found out about his company CRS. When Ronald came home, I had straightened up the attic and was playing like a good little boy, and nothing was said. That night I called my father, and we had a long talk. He asked if I liked the outdoors, you know hunting and fishing. I said I had no idea as I was always cooped up in school or at home. We lived in West Lake Hills at the time and not that far from Zilker Park in southwest Austin. My dad asked if I could meet him at the park train depot at ten the next morning. I jumped at the chance and said yes.
One of my classmates at Belfour Academy, Jeffery Broadhead, had an older brother Brian, who could drive. So we asked him if he could drive us to Zilker, so we could have a little fun. He agreed and drove us to the park.
Belfour is a non-religious, non military four-year high school for gifted students. It is located in McKinney, Texas northeast of Dallas. It is a very strict male-only school, in grades 8 through 12 that show promise in the disciplines of the business world. Coming out of Belfour almost guarantees acceptance at any college in a business program. Most students come out of Belfour with the equivalent of an associate's degree in business and well on their way to a bachelor's or masters in business in short order when going to college. Enough of my blowing my own horn.
We waited in the park at the little depot for my father. The park train was a narrow gage one that rode around the whole park. It was probably a sixteenth or maybe smaller than the size of a real steam train. You could fit two people to a side in the cars that were open so you could enjoy the view of the park and all its wonders. Each car could hold four adults or probably six kids.
It was unreal when I looked around the depot. There was this man who looked like an older me. He was tall and very fit with a small picture in his big hand. I walked up to him and said, "You must be Stanton Evans; I'm Robert Stanton Preston." I stuck out my hand, and he just stared at me. At 14, I was about 5'-8" and 115 pounds. At that height, I was as tall as Ronald, but he outweighed me by a good forty-five pounds.
"My God, you've grown so big. I would have hardly recognized you. However, you do look a lot like I did when I was younger. It really is you, my son." He said and then hugged me to him. My dad was about 6'-3" and 210, and he about squeezed me to death. He had two tickets for the train, but quickly bought another for Jeff. We were soon whisked away for a train ride. My father and I talked the whole ride. Jeff talked too, but it was mostly just us two. After the ride, we sat at a picnic table, and my father bought us lunch from the concession stand. We talked for hours and finally about 4:30 he drove us both home. That was my first encounter with my real father, but it was not my last. Not by a long shot.
As time went on we became very close. He did ask once what I wanted to do for a living, and I said I wanted to be like him. Ronald and Mother wanted me to go into the banking and investment industry; however, that seemed too lame to me at the time. Dad said he would help me as much as he could. I suddenly had a bank account, well he was a signer on it, but it was mine. He also deposited money into it every month, and he said it was my allowance and when I asked why so much, he said, "It's to make up for all the years I wasn't able to give you anything. I lost track of you and your mother after the divorce, this was at your mother's insistence. However, next we started the company and were very busy getting it going. By that time, I didn't have a clue where you were, or if you were even still around here. I sure missed a lot by not seeing you grow up, but I don't plan on missing anymore." I felt more love coming from my estranged dad than I did from either my mother or my step-father.
You know there is a world of difference between a father and a dad. I know the words are supposed to be synonymous, but there really is a world of difference in the emotions that are attached to each of those words. A father is a man who exercises fatherly care over other persons; a patriarchal protector or provider. However, a dad is an informal word for father, but there is so much more than that. A father is someone who either provides one-half of the genetic material for the birth of a child, or someone who cares, nurtures, is responsible for, or protects one's progeny or adopted progeny. A dad is someone who becomes almost one with a child; he protects them; he nurtures them just like a father, but he is also someone whom the child can relate to, someone they can go to when they are troubled, someone who the child can depend on through right or wrong. Fathers normally can't handle the latter. A father to me doesn't become that interested in their children on a personal level. Yes, they are their children, but that is where the connection ends. There is a kind of love there, but not the total commitment that a Dad has. I know this is all semantics, but stop and think about the male head of your home: was he a father to you, or was he a dad? Shortly after I became greatly more acquainted with my dad, we moved from Westlake Hills to Lakeway out on Lake Travis, so without wheels I was much further from my dad. I sometimes think that my mother had a great deal to do with that move.
That doesn't get us to the horrific part does it? Oh well, fast forward a few years and I am enrolled in Texas State in their business management program down in San Marcos. My mother and step-father wanted me to go to UT, but I wasn't going to live at home, and be confined to their rules and their lives. My dad gave me a car at graduation from high school, against my mother and step-father's wishes, but I told them he was my father too so live with it.
There I met Jimmy Conner. Jimmy was my roommate all through college. We met the first day and became fast friends. He went more toward the sales and marketing end of the business courses, and I tended more towards the management end, so I had most of the preliminary courses he had as well. When we graduated, I applied for a job at CRS; Jimmy applied at a marketing firm in Dallas. We both were accepted and I promised if I was ever in Dallas, I would look him up, and he promised if he came to Austin, he would look me up.
A few years later Jimmy came down for a presentation to a firm in Austin and was going to be here for a few days, so he called me as we made a date to catch up at a local watering hole in north Austin near his hotel. We had been talking for a while catching up and drinking long necks, and I needed to recycle some of my beer. I went into the bathroom and was tapping my kidney when two guys came in and stood on each side of me and were using the facilities just like me when unexpectedly one says to the other, "Stay away from my wife." And I hear a hell of a loud bang and suddenly instant horrendous pain, and after that everything was black.
The next thing I know I see a white ceiling and a subdued light on the wall behind me and two lights in the ceiling that are off. I am feeling no pain at the moment, but then too I can tell that I am drugged pretty heavy as my mouth is all cottony and my head is pounding. My mother is standing by the bed and so is my dad, on the other side. I look pleadingly at my dad and try to talk, but nothing comes out; just a kind of weak croak.
"Son, I hate to be the one to tell you, but you were shot in the dick. Some ass hole on the left side of the urinal from you shot the ass hole on the right side of you. Shrapnel from the divider tore into your dick and damn near tore it off. You have had one surgery, and you will need a couple more before you can even think of using it for something to pee out of, let alone for anything else."
I faded to black once more. When I once again awoke, it was just my mother there holding my hand. I looked at her and raised my eyebrows, and she said, "I told the old fart he had to leave; telling you something like that, how could he?"
I croaked out, "True?"
"Yes it's true, but he didn't have to be so crude about it. Yes, you do have a somewhat mangled member now, but it will be fixed right; I can promise you that."
All I could do was groan and try to just will my own death. It was not to be, and shortly Ronald came in and said that he had contacted the finest plastic surgeon in the world, and he would be here in a couple of days. "Once Dr. Pierre de Bonier knew what the problem was he said he would have his team gathered and arrive in two days, and he guaranteed that you would have a working member when his team was complete."
[That Doctor de Bonier is actually pronounced as de Bonay like Count de Money from 'History of the World Part: Part I' by Mel Brooks. However, de Boner is how it looks, right?] BR
I nodded my head and went back to sleep. I drifted in and out of consciousness several times over the next day and a half. Then Dr. de Bonier came in when I was awake, and he examined me and said he would be able to reconstruct a new and better penis from what I had left. He said that he had brought some stem cells with him from Europe to assist in healing, growth, and to help with tissue rejection.
He said, "I vill fix dis organe to be comme neuf. Ah like baby new."
I hoped he was right; I could just see me pissing through a tube for the rest of my life and never having sex again. I nodded my head and said, "I thank you for any help you can give me."
"Oui, you young man, need organe for to be happy, I make so you be happy long time."
From what I could see from his examination, I would need all the help I could get. I saw a stubby piece of flesh; all bandaged up with a tube coming out of it going to a bag at the side of my bed. My once proud six and a half inches was barely even an inch and a half long, with no discernible head. I almost passed out again when I saw what was left of me. I also had a chunk out of the back of my right hand, but that looked better after skin grafts from my ankle and butt. When I was first informed about where they got some of the skin for my hand, I had to laugh as I would now be shaking people's hands with my ass.
I was scheduled for my next surgery in two days. They needed time to allow the stem cells to get used to my cells. They took a flap of skin from what was left of my dick to add to the stem cells and then activated them somehow and let it grow more penis skin for the doctor to use. I didn't understand a third of what was said by the doctors, but I figured these guys were the best in the business, so I had confidence in them. It seemed that there were pieces parts of what was left of my dick that had dropped into the urinal and some on the floor. All the pieces were immediately put on ice until they could be used to stitch together my dick.
Two weeks later I came out of the induced coma to see a new doctor standing at the side of the bed and an older blond bombshell with tits like torpedoes standing at the foot of my bed. She leaned over showing lots of cleavage, and I could feel something stirring inside all the bandages surrounding my dick. Then it hit; the instant, excruciating pain again, and I passed out.
Sometime later I awoke again, and few hours afterward there was another doctor there.
"Mr. Preston. We think that you were awakened too soon, and we had to go back and repair some damage, but you have been in a coma for six weeks now and from what we can tell everything should be healed up quite nicely. I have asked Nurse Helga to come back in order to see your reaction this time. She was so apologetic for what happened last time and said that she would only come at your request."
"Well if we are going to see if everything is healed, then we need for her to come in."
I could see the nurse who I saw once before, come peeking around the door jamb. I waved her on into the room.
"Mr. Preston, I am so sorry about last time; I really am remorseful that I caused you all that pain. I hope that this time is much more pleasant for you."
I could feel the stirring again, but it felt different from any time before. I could feel more sensations; I looked down, and my sheet was rising slowly. I was trying to stay calm but as the sheet rose so did my anxiety, but then no pain, but the sheet kept rising until it looked to be about seven or eight inches above my body. I pulled the sheet up, so I could look down, and I saw a beautiful sight. I beheld a perfect penis; it really looked to be about seven inches long and at least an inch and a half or more across. The head was a dark red, almost a purple color, and it looked like a magnificent specimen. Nurse Helga swooned a bit, I think as her face was quite red, and she was fanning herself with her hand. The doctor peeked under the sheet and exclaimed, "Well done!"
"I think that we can safely say that the operation was a success. You have achieved a painless erection, and I'm sure that everything else will take care of itself. Congratulations Mr. Preston, I declare you healed. Now to get you weaned off the meds and liquid, and once more on solid food again so you can go back home and get on with your life."
I next got an awful frown on my face as I really looked at that appendage waving in the air. I saw a slight bulge at about the one, and a half-inch mark where I remember seeing the end of my dick before, following that there was another ridge about two-inches up from that and another one, about one and a half-inches more and then a two-inch head that was much greater than any I had seen in the past. Now I think most men that are circumcised have a head that is about a quarter-inch larger all around than the shaft. Well, my brand-new head was at close to a half an inch bigger. It looked like they had sewn on chunks of skin to my dick to make me a new one.
I screamed and flipped the sheet back and said, "You think this is perfect; you ruined me for life. I'll never have sex again; no woman will ever want that monstrosity near them. I wish you had left me the way I was, because this is a grotesque monster. I wish that frog asshole was still around so I could whack his dick off and see how he feels. Get the fuck out of here and leave me alone you quack."
All during this tirade, Nurse Helga at first only stared and then suddenly she got this uncontrollable urge to touch that marvelous piece of male equipment. She moved from the foot of the bed to around on Rob's right side and was staring at this magnificent golden dick that had been created just for a woman's pleasure. She had to have it and by the time Rob finished his tirade her hand was just inches away from that perfect cock. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen; it was like those condoms that had the ridges on them, but this one didn't need a condom. She finally grasped her hand around the shaft, and gave it a couple of tentative strokes. Then she couldn't help but continue with longer strokes. She was staring at the tip as her right hand moved up and down the shaft marveling at how the ridges were stiff, yet soft. Oh my GOD the pleasure that this boy could give a woman would be incredible.
Rob looked from the local doctor, Dr. Schwartz, to Nurse Helga and the exquisite sensations he was feeling from her lovely stroking of his dick. He had not realized that Helga had moved while he was yelling at Dr. Schwartz. His whole being was now concentrating on what the nurse was doing with her hands.
Dr. Schwartz was stunned into silence to take in the scene of his Nurse stroking the patient's member, as he too finally saw the results of all the operations that Dr. de Bonier, and his team performed. He had assisted, well actually observed, but he never would have thought that the scars produced by the surgeries would result in these ridges. Yes, the French doctor had grafted four sections of tissue that was grown from the patient's own tissue with the help of some revolutionary new growth medium and the stem cells that he brought from Europe, but my god it turned out fantastic. They had always worked with non erectile tissue and at a normal flaccid six inches; there was no way that the scars looked like anything other than just wrinkles. His other concern was Nurse Helga. He could see her being mesmerized by this miracle of modern medical science, but to be acting in the way she was that was just totally unprofessional. He reached over to remove her hand from the organ, and his hand was stopped by some invisible source. He couldn't get any closer than about three inches to the patient's member. He was finally able to reach higher and grab the nurse's pistoning arm, but not before the rock-hard prick began to spit semen all over the bed, Nurse Helga's arm and Dr. Schwartz's arm as well. Once he touched her arm, it was as though a spell had been broken and Helga opened her hand, and stepped away from the bed and gasped. She collapsed on the floor and cried in shame at what she had done.
The doctor grabbed the sheet, and pulled it over the offending organ and saw that it slowly lost its tumescence, and the patient fell back on the bed exhausted. Rob was asleep in seconds after his head hit the pillow. Now that the whole eerie affair was over the doctor was unsure of what had just happened. He knew that the patient had gotten an erection, and then everything else was kind of fuzzy in his brain. He could see what appeared to be ejaculate on the bed, his arm and quite a bit on Nurse Helga, but how it got there was a complete mystery.
Dr. Schwartz quickly went around the end of the bed and assisted the groggy nurse up as she mumbled something like, "My God what a man." Then she came out of her stupor and whispered, "My God what have I done?"
Dr. Schwartz said, "I think we have seen a miracle today, but we must keep what happened here a secret. No one must ever know about this. We would both be terminated with prejudice immediately."
"Yes, I need to clean up some, thank you Doctor. I'll go get changed."
The longer the doctor was away from the patient and the further his distance from the patient, the knowledge of what had transpired in that room became fuzzier until there was a blank spot in his memory. He remembered that the patient could achieve an erection, and that it went down after direct line-of-sight exposure to the buxom nurse was broken. Other than that, nothing else transpired as far as he could remember.
Rob, on the other hand, had no idea what had happened consciously. He only knew that his dick worked, and it was kind of weird-looking with the scars, but it worked.
However, in Rob's subconscious, his mind was very alert and churning data at a fantastic rate. His subconscious mind knew every single detail as to what had happened and was ecstatic. In another section of his brain, an awakening was occurring, and a part of his mind began to be quite active. This is the part that is sometimes called the hind brain; this is where abilities of old are stored, and now they were being unleashed. Only time will tell if this is a good thing or not. Whatever the outcome it will be a real adventure for Robert S. Preston, one that his mind will never forget.
Nurse Helga Sorenson was a very confused lady. First, she was so flattered when she was asked to see if she could tempt a young patient due to her statuesque physique. Oh let's face it; she has great big hooters, and she is tall at 6'-2 and 44DD tits that really stick out even for a 42-year-old woman. The bra she wore is heavy-duty, but she has never really needed the support until maybe the last six months to a year. Her husband did notice a slight sagging a while ago, but for the most part, her upper chest is still as magnificent as it was when she was a teenager.
The first time she met the young Mr. Preston, she was worried that she had caused him so much pain, that he would never want to see her again. Even so, he had more surgeries and allowed to remain in a coma for another six weeks and from what Doctor Schwartz has said he has healed beautifully, inside and out. Now is the final test to see if all of their work has been successful. That nice foreign doctor and his team spent almost a month and several surgeries to help that poor man be able to have a working penis. Now would be the latest test. She hoped that Mr. Preston would allow her the honor to be present for this final test.
Dr. Schwartz was preparing the patient, and she was just outside the room and peeked around the corner when she was asked to enter. The patient waved her into the room with a smile on his face, so she knew he didn't blame her for his first painful episode. She unbuttoned a couple of buttons on her uniform to help the young man see some real cleavage and bent over the front of the hospital bed to give him a good view of her charms.
Wonder of wonders she could see something rising under the sheet. The young patient had a sly smile on his face, and then she felt this uncontrollable urge to get closer. She maneuvered around to the patient's right side still giving him as much of a view of her cleavage as possible as the tent in the sheet kept rising. Then somehow and she's not quite sure how or by whom; the sheet was cast aside, and she gazed upon this miracle of modern science. She saw an erect penis that glowed and pulsed with light and energy. She could not keep her hand from reaching out to it; she had to grasp that magnificent member.
Once her hand touched the skin, her mind said she had to grasp it and stroke it so that it could fulfill its purpose. Her fingers wrapped around the burgeoning stalk, and her hand naturally began to stroke it up and down. The scar ridges felt so wonderful on her palm and somehow those sensations were transferred directly to her vagina. She could actually feel the sensations inside her. She could feel the ridges teasing her opening with each stroke. The ridges, once inside her brought intense pleasure to her whole body, and she could feel an immense orgasm building inside her. She could not believe that she had become, aroused and built to such a high plateau in such a short time, and then she noticed Dr. Schwartz's hand reaching for hers. She had to move faster so that the ultimate explosive orgasm for each of them could occur. Just as the good doctor's fingers touched her hand everything turned gray, and she felt the explosion. Her orgasm was the most intense one she had ever experienced, and she slumped to the floor in a swoon. Her pussy was fluttering with the aftershocks of that orgasm. She also noticed that somehow the magnificent organ had an explosion of its own and she, the good doctor, the patient and the bed was almost covered in ejaculate. There were several globs of it on her uniform, and she could feel a couple of drops on her arm and one on her cheek. The semen on her skin burned with the cold heat of dry ice, and yet she did not feel alarmed. Somehow she knew that it would not harm her. How did she know that and why would it matter?
Later as she was changing in the locker room in the basement, she remembered hearing something in her mind. It was like someone was speaking in her mind saying, 'Thank you, you will not be harmed, but you will want to experience this again. Please feel free to come to me another time.' Now why would she think that? She was happily married to Sven Sorenson and had been for almost 21 years. They had five children ranging in age of 8 to 20 together and Sven was the love of her life, why would she want to return to experiencing that exquisite feeling again? But then too there was something in the back of her mind that wanted her to return repeatedly, just to feel that euphoria once more.
Edited by WSV; proofread by prissy_35503