Chapter 2

Originally the plan had been to discharge Peter after a couple of days, but the doctor was so worried about a suspected brain clot that he ordered Peter to stay one more week.

The next day Vicky announced a visit.

“Who?” he asked. Vicky only smiled and opened the door.

“Hi, Mr. Robinson!” Minnie Olsen greeted him with a bright smile.

“Hello, Minnie!” Peter replied, surprised to see her. “What brings you here?”

“I’ve come to take care of you, of course!” she exclaimed with enthusiasm.

Peter had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realized what type of “care” she was referring to. He also noticed that Vicky had discreetly closed the door when leaving the room.

“Minnie, I don’t think-” he started to protest, but just like Penelope yesterday, she simply smiled and silenced him with a finger on his lips. Resigned, Peter just relaxed and closed his eyes.

Resigned, Peter closed his eyes and let himself relax as Minnie’s hands began to caress his penis.

He couldn’t prevent to become excited. Her hands moved with delicate precision, gently stroking and caressing his member. “You see, Mr. Robinson,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his earlobe as she spoke. “When Miss Dickinson asked for volunteers, all the girls eagerly raised their hands.” Peter couldn’t help but smile at her words, feeling a surge of pleasure as Minnie’s skilled hands worked their magic on him. “I was one of the lucky ones,” she added with a playful wink, increasing the intensity of her strokes. As his cock grew fully erect under her touch, he could feel himself losing control to the sensations coursing through his body.

“Mmm,” Minnie hummed in approval, her warm breath teasing against his skin. “You taste so delicious.” She lowered her head and peppered small kisses along his shaft, each one eliciting a gasp of pleasure from Peter.

“Minnie,” he managed to say, his voice strained with effort, “you’re amazing.”

With a confident smile, she took him into her mouth and began to suck with an expert touch. The warmth and wetness of her mouth sent electric shocks of pleasure through Peter’s body, intensifying with each movement. He could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, his body responding eagerly to Minnie’s skilled ministrations.

“Let yourself go,” she whispered, her voice seductive and encouraging. And in that moment, he did just that - letting all inhibitions and control slip away as he surrendered to the waves of ecstasy coursing through his body. Within seconds, he climaxed, giving himself fully to the pleasure that consumed him under Minnie’s skilled touch.

“Mission accomplished!” Minnie exclaimed, releasing his penis with a satisfied smile. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Peter couldn’t help but look at her with affection as he sank his head on the pillow. “Thank you, Minnie,” he sighed gratefully. “I really needed that.”

“It was my pleasure,” she replied, a grin still plastered on her face. “You know, I’d love to feel your penis inside me, but...” she nodded to his bandaged chest. Broken ribs were not a good match with lovemaking.

After that, they talked about everything from school to teenage drama. Peter found himself grateful for this unexpected distraction from his own troubled thoughts. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm hues onto their faces and filling the room with a sense of peace and contentment.

As the clock struck the designated hour, they heard Vicky’s voice announcing “Visit time is over” with a gentle but firm tone. Mr. Robinson nodded in understanding, and Minnie gave him a warm smile before planting a kiss on his cheek. She whispered a hopeful “get well soon” before following Vicky out the door. Vicky lingered for a moment and looked at him with a mischievous smile, before finally stepping out and closing the door behind her.

Each one of the following days he received a visit from one of the students and also from Angela. One week later, the doctor finally deemed Peter ready to leave the hospital and continue his recuperation at home. Under the watchful eye of his bodyguard, Vicky, Peter was wheeled out to the hospital’s main gate in a borrowed wheelchair being pushed by Angela. The sun was shining, casting a warm glow on the concrete walls of the building, and Peter couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief and gratitude for the fresh air that awaited him outside those doors.

As they reached the gate, a sleek black limousine pulled up next to them. Angela had arranged for its services to take them to Mr. Hughes’ place, knowing that Peter would need the extra space and comfort during the ride. The driver opened the back door for them, gesturing for Peter to enter first. Vicky was looking around and would enter the last.

“VIP treatment?” he asked.

“Of course, Peter.” Angela smiled.

Once inside, Angela thanked the driver and settled next to Peter, who was marveling at the soft leather seats and the car’s luxurious interior. As she leaned in to buckle his seatbelt, Angel whispered in his ear, “We’re going to Mr. Hughes’ home. Are you ready to meet him?” she asked.

Peter couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves at the thought of meeting Mr. Hughes, his long-last grandfather. He was both excited and apprehensive, wondering what this meeting could mean for him.

As the limousine drove through the bustling city streets, Peter couldn’t help but think about the stark contrast between the opulence of the car’s interior and the poverty he had grown accustomed to in the orphanage. It made him feel even more out of place, sitting there in his hospital gown with bandages still covering his wounds.

Angela seemed to sense his discomfort and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Peter,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Mr. Hughes is a good man.”

Peter nodded, taking comfort in her words as they arrived at their destination – a grand mansion on the outskirts of town. The gate opened automatically as they approached, revealing a long driveway lined with lush gardens and fountains.

The limousine pulled up to the front entrance and Angela helped Peter out of the car. Vicky followed closely behind them, keeping an eye out for any potential threats.

As they entered the mansion, Peter couldn’t help but gape at its grandeur. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, marble floors gleamed underfoot, and priceless works of art adorned every wall.

A well-dressed maid greeted them at the door and led them to a well-equipped bedroom, where Mr. Hughes was laying on a bed.

“Welcome,” he said with a warm smile as they approached him. “It’s wonderful to have you here.”

Peter was struck by Mr. Hughes’ kind eyes and gentle demeanor. He suddenly felt more at ease in this foreign environment.

“Hello, Mr. Hughes,” he said.

“I suppose it’s too early for you to call me ‘Grandpa’,” Mr. Hughes said.

“Well, yes!” Peter responded. Mr. Hughes’ smile didn’t falter. “I suppose you have a lot of questions,” he added.

Peter nodded. “Yes, and the first one is: who was my mother?”

Peter’s question hung in the air, the silence stretching on as Mr. Hughes’ smile faltered. Angela and Vicky exchanged concerned glances, knowing how sensitive this topic was for Peter.

Mr. Hughes took a deep breath before speaking. “Your mother was my daughter,” he said softly. “Her name was Elizabeth, but she went by Lizzie.”

“Is she ... is she still alive?” Peter asked with a hopeful tone.

Mr. Hughes’ expression turned even more pained. “I’m sorry, Peter,” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t know.”

Peter felt a pang of sadness at the news, realizing he would never have the chance to meet his own mother.

“I ... I see,” he said with a heavy sigh.

“She was always a rebel, but not in a good way,” Mr. Hughes continued, his voice filled with emotion. “She craved for something we couldn’t give her, and unfortunately she found it in a bad place.”

Peter nodded. He has already been told about the cult and his mother’s disappearance.

“Why did she leave me?” he asked hesitantly.

A moment of silence passed before Mr. Hughes responded with a heavy heart. “We don’t know. In fact, we only became aware of your existence a couple of years ago when the records of that accursed guru were found and studied. Unfortunately there was no mention of your mother beyond a certain point, and we were unable to find her despite pouring a lot of resources into it,” he explained. “As soon as we learned that she got pregnant with you, we followed every clue until we found you.”

Peter nodded, trying to process everything that was being revealed to him.

“I understand if you’re angry or upset with me,” Mr. Hughes said, his voice full of remorse. “I’d wish to have more information to give you, but unfortunately there’s none to have.”

“It’s okay,” Peter reassured him.

“But now that you’re here with me,” Mr. Hughes continued, “I promise to take care of you and make sure you have everything you need.”

“Thank you,” Peter said quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Mr. Hughes smiled warmly at him before turning to Angela and Vicky. “Thank you both for bringing him here safely,” he said gratefully.

“It was our pleasure,” Angela replied with a smile.

The old man looked at Peter again. “Your grandmother passed away ten years ago,” Mr. Hughes added with a tear in his eye. “She died without ever knowing what happened to her daughter or that she had a grandchild. Maybe if she had known, she would have had enough strength to continue.”