Emergency sex help
Episode 17
November 2007 — May 2008
Cast:
Irina — me, Alexey's girlfriend
Yurka — "Loser!", my ex-boyfriend
Alexey — my boyfriend
Ekaterina Guseva — nurse
Konstantin Khabensky — surgeon
Dmitry Dyuzhev — guard for Alexey
Sergey Bezrukov — guard for me
Vladislav Galkin — ambulance doctor
Yaroslav Boyko — surgeon
Slightly opening his eyes, Alexey saw all the objects in the room begin to regain their colors. He gently pressed against my body and pulled up the blanket. It was a bit cool, as a cool morning freshness was blowing from the open window, but Lyoshka stubbornly didn't want to get up. He watched me sleeping sweetly and understood that he was happy. He had everything he wanted: a good job, an apartment in Angarsk, and a girl he loved more than life.
After morning sex, we were getting ready to visit our friends — Lyuda and Andrey on Sredny. It was a July day off. We took the elevator down. I was wearing pink pants, a thin pink silk blouse, and of course black sunglasses, and Lyoshka was in light blue jeans and a white shirt. Our car — a white Honda — was parked outside. We left around 10:00. As they say, those who visit in the morning act wisely! There was heavy fog outside.
"Wow, what fog. Visibility 100 meters," Lyoshka said, peering intently at the road.
As we drove, we talked about something cheerful and listened to music. We had already passed Usolye-Sibirskoye. We were driving at about 160 km/h, and suddenly it happened that a KAMAZ truck coming out from behind a turn didn't notice our car due to poor visibility and drove into the oncoming lane. Our Honda crashed with tremendous force into the side of the KAMAZ. A couple of seconds later, Alexey was already getting out of the car; his left arm was injured, and his white shirt was already covered in blood. He came over to me, but I was unconscious. Glancing at the car, he realized it clearly couldn't drive; shattered headlight fragments were scattered around. He was simply in shock and didn't know what to do. Checking my pulse, he picked me up in his arms and walked along the road, hoping someone would help. From shock and agitation, he completely forgot that he could have called an ambulance. But as if on cue, an ambulance arrived and took us.
I woke up already in the hospital. My head hurt terribly, and I could barely remember how the morning had begun. Alexey wasn't next to me; there were two doctors, as they introduced themselves: Vladislav and Yaroslav. After taking my blood pressure, Vlad prepared an injection. I felt disgusted, but also simultaneously pleased when he gave the shot. Then they talked among themselves, and I saw again how Yaroslav was now preparing an injection — mixing different medicines in a syringe.
"No, no more," I said with fear and disgust.
"Calm down. This is necessary. It's quick. You have to endure," Yaroslav tried to convince me. But I just got very angry and wouldn't let him near me. Then Vlad came to his aid and held me down by force. The sensation I experienced was pleasant, but mixed with hatred and disgust; perhaps it's comparable to mixing white paint with black. After that, they took my cell phone and took me to a ward (as it would turn out later, they also left Lyoshka without communication).
Ekaterina Guseva took Alexey to a completely different place; they walked down the corridor for a long time, took the elevator up, and walked again. They entered an office. Katya, putting on rubber gloves, said sternly:
"Take off your shirt."
With bloodied hands, he took off the shirt already stained with blood. The wound hurt, but Alexey wasn't afraid of anything; he was only thinking about me and worrying about me. He was serious and spoke only to the point. Katya unceremoniously and coldly bandaged the wound on his left arm. She found no other injuries on him. He sat calmly on the couch, still in a state of shock, remembering the accident — everything was like in slow motion; it seemed to him that time stretched on endlessly. Alexey was only half in reality. And when he heard the familiar sound of the top of an ampoule being snapped off, he snapped out of his memories and looked around with different feelings: the setting evoked fear, and when he realized he was about to get an injection, he panicked:
"Why is this?" — his eyes, with a wild fear like a child's, looked at the approaching Katya, and he awaited his fate. He understood she was a doctor and was doing what was necessary, after all saving people was her job, but at that moment he was very scared, as if he were alone and on his own.
She saw him as cute and defenseless; Katya liked this immensely, and she involuntarily changed: her rudeness and cruelty of character instantly vanished. She took his hand and, leaning in, gently whispered in his ear:
"Shh, don't be afraid. This is a painkiller. I won't hurt you," — understanding that he wasn't in his right mind — the accident had affected him psychologically.
From her words and touch, Alexey felt a burning warmth suddenly appear in his heart, mixed with fear, and spread in instant pulses throughout his body, and in his lower abdomen he felt inexplicable pleasant sensations. With a calm and relaxed gaze, drifting far into his subconscious, he looked into Katya's eyes. He squeezed her hand in the rubber glove in his hand — these sensations reminded him again that he was in a hospital.
"If you behave well, you'll return to Irina faster," — she looked into his eyes and smiled. — "You better lie down."
He obediently did so, trusting Katya, but couldn't have imagined then that she would betray his trust. And he realized this when he was being pulled into sleep with terrible force, but it was too late.
Again, a silhouette in a white coat entered my ward — it was Yaroslav. I shuddered from a premonition of unpleasant sensations.
"What's the matter? Calm down, I won't hurt you," — he smiled sweetly, approaching me. His words instantly dissolved my inexplicable fear. He gently unbuttoned my blouse, undressed himself. I understood that sex was about to happen, and resisting, I said rudely:
"I don't want to."
"Shh. Don't be afraid of anything, everything will be gentle. I'll be careful, trust me," — he whispered in my ear. I felt his warm breath. His words calmed me. Just words, but they meant a lot to me. But they still weren't enough for me to agree with him, and I became capricious again:
"No, I won't, get away from me. Ugh, that's disgusting."
He hugged me and tried to get his hands under my blouse.
"I'll enter you slowly, stay inside you for about five minutes, and that's it. Relax," — he calmed me. His voice sounded monotonous and quiet, without emotion, as if lulling.
"No, no sex," — I got out of bed and went to the window. — "You understand, nothing will happen," — I said decisively and confidently, with irritation in my words.
He came up to me and hugged me from behind.
"Shh, shh, shh, quiet, calm down," — he said this with a very tender and heartfelt feeling, as if he himself liked what he was doing. Maybe he had fear, but only for me.
Instantly, an explosion occurred in my heart, containing different incompatible feelings: inner heat, a chill of fear, a bit of excitement, and everything in my head was swimming and drifting somewhere, strange noise and buzzing sounded in my head. I turned sharply to him; it was important for me to catch his gaze at that moment, to see and decipher something new and mysterious in his blue eyes.
"Everything will be fine. Shh," — he spoke tenderly and again as if lulling. He looked into my eyes, and his gaze was serious and simultaneously tender, penetrating the depths of my soul, and already under the high of pleasure, like a drunken gaze. Just his gaze enchanted me; his gaze was seriously mysterious, like that of a real doctor when you only see the eyes. His words finally calmed me, relaxed me to a state of weak control over my actions, clouded my mind, and even aroused me.
He kissed me on the lips — gently touching his lips to mine. I gently scratched his back, and he, getting aroused, moaned. From this, I felt a pleasant chill that descended into my lower abdomen, and I felt good. He kissed my shoulders and then caressed my breasts.
"I'm already hot. I can't take it anymore," — he was barely holding back his beastly desires. He pulled down my pink pants, gently ran his hand over my panties and felt my wet clitoris with his fingers, from which his member swelled more and more and was ready for action at any minute. He closed his eyes and imagined entering me. I obediently took everything off, only my mind was still fighting the fog of the high. As promised, he entered me first just a little, creating an even wilder desire for both of us, and then deeper and deeper. I felt pleasure.
During sex, I started resisting again and said:
"I don't want anything, I changed my mind."
He leaned towards me, we looked into each other's eyes. He gently and affectionately said:
"Calm down, shh," — he ran his finger over my lips. A pleasantly piercing warmth suddenly flared up in my heart and sharply went down to my abdomen, my body involuntarily relaxed and became heavy. And then he kissed me on the lips and continued. From excitement, I bit my lips.
When it was all over and Yaroslav got dressed, two more people came in: Vladislav and Sergey — my guard. They quickly undressed. I didn't want anything and so resisted, but Yaroslav held me, and Vlad entered me roughly, and I felt pain. This whole nightmare lasted a long time. I screamed and cried, but it was useless; they raped me like wild animals. I felt terribly disgusted, but I couldn't do anything; the men's hands held me so tightly it seemed there would be bruises.
Alexey woke up here, but in just his underwear and handcuffed to the bed with steel handcuffs. Still in a sleepy state, he thought: "Another one of Irka's stories, no different from the others." But then he realized he wasn't reading, but was here, and then he became terrified. He didn't know how long he had been asleep, but clearly it was getting towards evening. He tried to free himself, but couldn't. And suddenly, unexpectedly, Ekaterina entered — white high-heeled shoes, black stockings hugging her slender legs, a short white robe emphasizing her slim figure, and a black lace bra visible through it on her fragile body, beautiful makeup. Simply a beauty! Alexey looked motionlessly at her, breathing rapidly, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead after the unsuccessful attempt to free himself. But when he saw a small metal tray in her hands, with a syringe and an ampoule on it, his heart beat even faster, a sharp adrenaline rush into his blood. She walked towards him slowly across the entire office. He didn't know what to do and first politely asked:
"What are you going to do with me? Where's Ira?"
She stood nearby and coldly prepared the injection, as if not hearing him. Then he asked with agitation and very seriously:
"What's going on here? Explain to me, why am I handcuffed?"
Katya turned to Alexey, but he wouldn't let her inject the medicine — he resisted.
"Show me the ampoule, I want to know what it is," — he was afraid for himself. Anger glinted in his eyes, but he remained calm and didn't shout.
And then she, getting angry, roughly yelled at him with an angry, insensitive look:
"Enough. If you keep struggling, I'll call the guards," — her eyes flashed angrily.
He abruptly fell silent and froze, as if cowering in a corner like a little child punished by his parents. He saw only cruelty in her, and he so lacked simple understanding from her. His eyes were full of tears, quiet resentment, and heartache. With a sad gaze, he watched Katya as she gave the injection, and he remained impassive, but he was very troubled by what was now flowing in his blood. In Katya, feelings of cruelty quickly changed again to tender feelings of love; she liked seeing him try to resist, seeing weakness in him — it turned her on. She felt his worries with her heart. Taking off the rubber gloves, she gently cupped his face with her hands and said sympathetically:
"What's the matter? My little one, everything's fine, calm down."
"Why are you tormenting me like this?" he asked in a dead voice.
"Well, everything's quiet, quiet," — she whispered tenderly, and she felt so good in her soul that she couldn't restrain herself and began to kiss him very gently and carefully on the lips. Lyoshka melted in her tender kiss. And again, the sharply appearing warmth warmed his body from within — her words strongly relaxed him. He felt protected. Now she was her opposite, and this version of her liked Alexey more and more. She freed him, and he didn't even try to run away; he was gentle and fluffy, and they merged in an embrace. Alexey stopped himself on thoughts of what and why he was doing, remembered me, but vaguely. His mind was under the influence of drugs and a terrible desire for sex; he even thought it was me.
Early in the morning of the second day, Lyoshka was awakened by a man's rough voice, most likely belonging to a guard on duty near Alexey's room. He was talking to a girl, and then the door opened, and the serious Dmitry Dyuzhev entered. He was wearing a white shirt, tie, black pants, and a black pistol gleamed in a holster. He only lacked black sunglasses to look like a cool guard in an action movie. In a businesslike tone, he ordered:
"Get dressed."
Lyoshka, slowly pulling on his jeans, thought about what was happening here.
"Hurry up. They're waiting for you," — the guard said discontentedly, glancing at the sad Alexey.
Putting on the watch his grandfather gave him, Lyoshka looked at the display — the time was 7:00 AM. He put on the slippers Katya had given him the night before and put on another new white shirt, but didn't have time to button it — the guard's stern voice sounded again:
"Let's go."
Leaving the room, they went down to the first floor. He was being led in an unknown direction. He thought anxiously about me; there were a sea of questions, but he didn't dare ask this man because he didn't want to invite trouble, seeing how serious the guard was. And he continued to patiently wait for the right moment. Accompanied by Dmitry, Alexey stepped towards a door. Dima knocked on it and, letting Lyoshka in, closed the door behind him.
In a small square office opposite the door were two windows covering the entire wall, with bars on the windows. Near the windows stood a large medical chair with a bunch of equipment. To the right of the door was a medicine cabinet, and to the left stood a desk with a computer and a liquid crystal monitor. Behind the desk in a white coat sat a young girl — it was Katya. She looked very serious, as it seemed to him, but still raised a kind look at him and said in a businesslike manner:
"Have a seat," — she indicated with her eyes to a chair.
"Why the formal 'you'?" he asked, but she remained silent. Maybe she wanted to forget they were acquainted, or what had happened between them? He sat down opposite Katya. He felt calm, but inside agitation appeared, as the setting