Chapter 12
How long had it been? Days, weeks, months? Peter couldn't tell for sure. He wasn't always sure he was Peter for that matter, although the doctors and nurses kept telling him that was who he was. He-even that seemed strange. For much of the time he felt more like a woman. Peter was the name they all called him, but there seemed to be some other name... P... something with a P, but he wasn't quite sure.
But the people here tried to keep him from being so confused all the time. The nurses and doctors in their soothing white uniforms would give him nice pills to make him sleep and forget. Sometimes they would talk to him in quiet voices, but he couldn't really understand what it was they were saying. He just smiled back at them, trying to be as polite as possible, feeling placid as he looked past them to the pale green walls.
Sometimes he would become very frightened at night, and he would wake up screaming, twisting and turning in his sweat-soaked sheets. Then the people would come and stick a needle in his arm and he would drift off to a mellow dream where there were no faces and harsh voices to taunt him.
Madison Le Grande sat up in his king-sized bed, resting his thin back against the velvet headboard, smoothing the yellow satin sheets over him. There had been a knock on the door of his huge bedroom, and he had propped himself up before calling out for the person to enter the room.
A thin sliver of light came streaming in from the window where the heavy drapes had been drawn slightly to let the late morning sunshine from the harbor enter his room. After the terrible experience of the kidnapping, the senior Le Grande having closed his summer home in France earlier than usual this year, having returned to his Newport, Rhode Island mansion.
The door opened and in stepped a trim blonde, carrying a silver tray on which a tea service rested.
"Your morning tea, sir," the girl smiled, setting the tray on a bedside table.
Old Madison showed hardly a trace of life as he took the morning paper from the girl and opened it to the financial section, while the pretty wench poured hot water into the teacup, dropped in two cubes of sugar and a teabag and began to stir.
Heather had been in the Le Grande employ for only a couple of months, having joined at the time Madison returned from Europe just after the kidnapping tragedy. After serving the tea, she looked expectantly at the old man, waiting to see if there would be further orders.
"Sit down," the old man motioned to a chair by the window, "Just let me finish the stock market."
The girl did as she was told, settling herself in the straight backed chair, crossing a shapely thigh over her other leg as Madison continued to pore over the paper, taking an occasional sip of tea.
This girl had been a real help to him, he realized, and he treated her with more respect than he had shown to anyone in his employ in years. Perhaps it was due to the guilt he'd felt over his mistakes in handling the kidnapping of his grandson. But more than that, it was due to the fact that this pretty young girl of nineteen had done more to rescue his flagging sexual drive than anyone during the past decade or so.
Madison truly needed someone who could take his mind off the events of the past couple of months. He had seen to it that Peter was placed in one of the finest private sanitariums in the country as Peter's mind had really fallen apart from the terrible ordeal he had been subjected to. Yet there still had been little progress over the more than two months of treatment he had undergone.
As for his daughter-in-law, it looked very much like she would receive a life sentence for her part in the scheme, and Madison was sorry that capital punishment was not in favor at the time. As for Julia, who had been captured a week after Paula's arrest in Acapulco, it looked like she would receive the same. The two other girls could probably look forward to lighter sentences, and the doctor who had performed the cruel operation upon Peter had saved the state the trouble of trying him by committing suicide.
Madison folded the paper and called to the attractive young girl, a slight smile creasing the corners of his ancient mouth. This girl had brought about some change in the old man, and at times he would actually break into a full grin, a feat that many observers had previously thought would cause Madison's face to break.
But if anyone could bring joy to the old geezer it would be such a girl as Heather. Measuring barely five feet, the girl packed as many curves into her short frame as humanly possible. Despite the fact that she only weighed a bit over a hundred pounds, she had a pair of breasts that measured thirty- eight inches, the orbs taking up nearly all of her frontside above the waist. Her face had the constant expression of innocence, featuring large blue eyes and a pair of full lips that were a cocksucker's dream.
As she moved over to the bed, it was evident that her full hips and curved thighs weren't bad either. Knowing what it was the old man wanted, she reached behind her and unfastened her yellow minidress, letting it fall to the floor.
"Good morning," Madison wheezed as he sat up further to take in her charms.
"And a good morning to you, sir," Heather smiled, pulling the clinging white slip off, revealing her white bikini panties and flimsy bra that scarcely held in the bulging mounds of flesh on her chest.
As the girl unhooked the bra and tossed it aside, old Le Grande, breathing heavily, pushed away the sheets and slipped off his silk pajamas. His thin, weather-beaten cock stood straight up in anticipation, a testiment to the attractiveness to the girl. His other maids had had to work hard to get the old man's meat to stand, but this girl's looks alone were enough to get the blood flowing to his skinny prick. The flesh of his genitals even flushed a slight pink in comparison to the gray hue it usually assumed.
"I'm gonna do it to you, Daddy," Heather teased, running her tongue seductively over her full lips as she tossed aside her panties and hopped atop the bed.
Arranging herself on the old man's spindly thighs, she sat on her haunches and bent down over his throbbing cock. Taking hold of the narrow shaft with one hand, she bent down and touched her lips to the head, her full breasts pillowing against the man's thighs as she did so.
"Eat it all up," Madison intoned, the words not being so unusual except for the fact that he spoke them at all.
Even his face took on an attitude of excitement as she moved her lips further down his shaft, quite a feat when one remembers how unmoved he had been when similar ministrations were given by his French maids. His eyes twinkled and his pulse throbbed at the temples as he laid his head back on the thick pillows to receive the blowjob.
Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead as the girl continued to peruse his dick, her mouth taking more and more of the cock into her mouth as she alternately sucked and blew at the shaft, her right hand jacking off the meat from the base. , Madison reached out with his clawlike hands and grabbed her shoulders as she blew him, his eyes marveling at the way her voluminous breastflesh heaved and wobbled as she ate him, the large pink nipples surrounded in a sea of jello.
If the girl was faking it, it would be hard to tell from the way she went about the headgiving to her employer. She breathed deeply and moaned as she sucked and blew, sending deep vibrations through the man's organs as she worked. Her little fingers snagged at the man's testicles and gray pubic hair, adding further excitement to the situation.
"Now," the old man managed to choke out.
The girl pulled her lips away from his bulging cock, a thin string of saliva popping between her lips and his cock as she did so, taking the cue to change her mode of operation. For the old man loved to finish off the job by burying his thin cock in her pussyflesh, _ an activity he seldom participated in... until Heather that is. This girl could bring new life to his old skin, and he loved to feel his cock as it went in and out of her moist folds.
She moved her firm ass up and positioned herself over the cock and gently lowered herself over his pole, guiding it in with the use of one hand. Madison's body shivered as he felt his cock being captured in the hot pussy, and his hips pumped feebly off the bed as she began to fuck him.
He really couldn't do much moving around in this time of his life, but it was more than he'd been able to manage for a long time, longer than he cared to remember. Not that he had to do much moving at all in this prearranged meeting, the girl sitting atop him and doing most of the work. She planted her hands on his knifelike shoulders and bounced her ass up and down the narrow cock, a gleam in her eyes and a smile on her face as she screwed him.
Old Madison reached up and played with her bouncing boobs as she worked on him, marveling at how large and pliant they were. They jounced about wildly as the girl bounced up and down on his shaft, and Maddy was like a kid at his first circus. Heather reached down with one hand and began to diddle with her clit to increase her own enjoyment, sensing from the look on the old man's face that he was about to come. After working him up with her mouth, the old man usually could only go at it for a couple of minutes, so she didn't want to be left hanging herself. But for a man of his age, this was quite a performance, and it took his mind away from all the problems that had arisen as a result of the kidnapping.
A thin smile spread across the man's features as he felt his load about to be dumped. He let a soft moan of pleasure escape from his lips as he shot a hot load into Heather's twitching snatch. If only he had met this girl a few years back. Then maybe he wouldn't have to worry about a male heir... he could have married this beautiful blonde. But now it was much too late for him to sire an heir. He had to hope against all hopes that the staff at the sanitarium could come up with some miracle to bring his grandson back to life.
Peter was having another of those dreams. He tossed about on his dampened sheets, not sure what was real and what was not. He was in some kind of basement and was surrounded by evil- looking women dressed in black leather costumes. He was strapped down to a table. There were fish floating about in the room, but instead of being in water, they were floating around in the air. Somehow this was the only thing that didn't bother him about the scene, the only thing that seemed normal.
"Petite!" A woman commanded, and he responded, for this seemed to be his name. A tall, dark woman with an evil smile advanced towards him, a whip in her hand. Somehow, he sensed the woman was his mother, although she didn't look exactly as he remembered her. His mother had lighter hair, this woman had black hair. At least her eyebrows were dark. He couldn't see much of her hair, as the cold face was topped off by a leather helmet that looked like a bathing cap. The rest of her body was encased in black leather too, a tight fitting outfit that looked like a skindiving suit. The other girls and the fish seemed to disappear as this woman took over his senses. All he could see was the background, a dark sort of cave, except that it had windows.
"Mother has to teach you how to be a good girl, Petite," the woman said as she brought the riding whip down across his chest, causing a red weal to rise. But he felt no pain. It all seemed natural.
"My little girl needs a lesson," the woman went on, bringing the whip down across his bare thighs.
The woman's face kept changing from one person to the other, faces that Peter thought he could recognize, but he wasn't sure. After the whip came down again, he jumped up, the straps that had been holding him down giving way easily. He ran out through the hall, which turned out to be a hallway similar to those in an office building. He could hear footsteps behind him, but he didn't look around, realizing that to do so would only slow him down.
He tried the doors in the hall, but none of them would open. Finally, he came to the end of the hall where there was an open elevator door. The door closed behind him just as the woman, along with several vicious dogs came up, shutting them out. The door was glass and he could watch them as they crashed against it, threatening his life. But instead of going up or down, the car took off sideways. When he turned around, he realized he was in a helicopter. He turned around to see who was flying it, but realized he was alone. He looked down at the panel, but couldn't figure out how to operate it as it flew above the city.
He finally realized that the chopper was controlling itself, so he just looked down at the view as the machine took him out past the suburbs. It finally flew over a large golf course and somehow he was transferred down to the course itself, just how he couldn't understand.
He was playing golf with a very old man who said nothing. The man had a type of wheelchair from which he could play golf, a mechanical contraption hitting the ball for him. Peter saw that it was his grandfather. After hitting his drive, the old man winked at him and asked him for a kiss, so Peter ran away. Finally he found himself alone on a putting green, leaning over a putt. But when he struck the ball, it would just roll to the middle of the green and stay there. After going through this frustrating motion several times, Peter realized there were no holes in the putting green, so he threw down the club and began walking over towards an old building that appeared to be the clubhouse.
But as he left the green and walked down into a sandtrap, he was pulled down by a couple of men dressed in the costume of Arabs. They had a machine gun in the bunker and were firing it at some other men on the ther side of the green who also had entrenched themselves in a sandtrap. As the bullets flew, Peter bent down to avoid them. After this went on for several minutes, an explosion in the bunker killed the other men. Just as he got up, the woman from the cave came up and pointed a gun down at him as she stood on the green, several other women, also armed with him.
They were all dressed in Nazi uniforms and ordered him to march over to a rundown looking house several feet away.
"You can't hurt me," Peter dared them, "because this is just a dream."
At that moment he was trying desperately to awake from the dream, but the women would have nothing of it, forcing him in the old house. The inside of the house looked like an old French farmhouse that had been pretty well destroyed by warfare. The woman, gun in hand, ordered him to take off his clothes and lay down on an army cot.
After doing so, he looked up and saw that she had put away her gun and taken off her clothing, all except a black bra and matching panties.
"I have you at last, Petite," the woman smiled, pulling off her bra and exposing a set of pointed white tits.
"But I'm Peter," he exclaimed, but was silenced by a sharp slap from the woman.
"We shall see," the tall women told him as she stripped off her panties, causing Peter to gasp. For she had a cock, a big cock that was erect and menacing. She threw herself down on top of him and held her cock between his legs. She began to kiss him, but he thrashed his head back and forth, not wanting this woman/man to enter him. But with a mighty shove the woman put the cock inside him... inside his ass or pussy, he wasn't sure just what, and began to ream him, causing him sharp pains.
"No, no!" he screamed... "No... "
And he was awake. As he looked around the room, he realized he was back in his private room at the sanitarium. The room was sparsely furnished-just the bed he was lying upon, an armchair, a bedside desk and lamp. Sun was streaming through the barred windows so morning had come at last.
He noticed that the doctor was in the room, along with the pretty new girl who had started there the last week. He had opened up to her somewhat, at least more than he had with any of the other therapists. She was a cute redhead in her early twenties named Peggy. What he didn't know was that Dr. Melcher, the head of the sanitarium who now stood with Peggy in Peter's room, had recruited her in a special attempt to break through to the boy.
Peggy had volunteered for the work, having broken in her technique at a new lab in San Francisco. The new therapy called for the therapist to act as a sexual surrogate, to engage in sex with an individual who was having sexual problems. As Peter's case was extreme, brought on by the identity crisis of his enslavement, Peggy had yet to make any sexual advances on Peter. Rather, the doctor had wished her to break through to Peter si- owly, gaining his confidence through conversation, attempting to establish the boy's masculine role. As it was until recently, the lad had wavered so between his masculine and feminine identifications, he had withdrawn from the world. Gradually, with the aid of various depressant drugs and patient therapy, they were beginning to get through to the boy. The difficulties, the doctor realized, were primarily mental, the severe shock of his ordeal having caused his identity problems. The loss of one testicle could hardly keep him from functioning as a male. They had removed the metal ring and the wound had healed weeks ago. No, Peter's problems were strictly mental, and the way he resisted therapy had caused the doctor to go to new methods in an attempt to break through to the young man.
"Feeling better, Peter?" the good doctor smiled.
Peter blinked, then nodded his head in the affirmative. Somehow it seemed reassuring to be called Peter. So often in his dreams he was that girl . the girl with the name that also started with a P... Petite, that was it. It was all so confusing. But this new girl, this cute redhead had called him Peter so often, that now whenever any of the other staff members used the name, he responded to it.
The sheets felt sticky to him, so he tried to pull them away from his body. The doctor said goodby, closing the door behind him, leaving only Peggy in the room. She approached the bed, sitting a pan of warm water on the bedside.
"Don't worry," she smiled at him, "it was only a bad dream. My, you certainly worked up a sweat. I'll give you a nice sponge bath to cool you off."
Peggy began to strip off her starched white uniform, an unusual procedure in nursing, but one that Peter certainly didn't object to. For the doctor had decided that the time was ripe to try and break through to Peter and that Peggy should go ahead and begin to attempt a sexual breakthrough now that the boy was responding so well to her.
Peter watched with mouth agape as the shapely woman stripped down to white bra and panties, a long-forgotten surge of pleasure coming to him. He was particularly excited at the way her freckles contrasted with the white skin of her sleek young body.
He lay passively as she began to sponge him off, applying the washcloth to his sticky skin. He wore no clothing as his nightmares had caused him to nearly strangle himself in his pajamas once, so his body was completely open to the ministrations of the nurse.
He felt reassured with this woman as she spoke softly to him, running the rough cloth gently over his arms. He raised his arm at her direction so that she could bathe off his underarm, laughing a little as it tickled.
"I see we're breaking through to you, Peter," she smiled as she washed off his chest.
It was true. He seemed to respond much better to her than to anyone else, and now that she had taken off her dress, he was responding even better. Still, she realized, the real test was yet to come.
She dipped the cloth into the basin of water and began to wash off his chest.
"My you're quite a man," she smiled as she worked, trying as best as she could to reinforce the masculine identity to him.
"I am?" he puzzled.
"Oh, yes. Any woman in her right mind would be crazy about you. It's all I can do to keep from jumping right in bed with you."
"Really?" he smiled.
For he was getting turned on in a way that seemed quite foreign to him. It ad been some time since he'd responded that way. In fact, the whole experience was new to him... or so he thought.
Pulling the sheets off his genitals, Peggy gave a big smile, seeing that Peter had a big erection.
"Why, Peter," she smiled. "What a big cock you have."
"I do?" he stammered, not sure just what she meant.
Running the cloth down to his stiff cock, she cooed at him, making no mention that he lacked one ball, not wanting to blow it now. She grasped his cock with her hand, the rough washrag making thrilling contact. This could be the big moment, she realized as she pumped away at his cock in a masturbatory fashion.
"Show me how much you like me, you big hunk of man!" she encouraged him, increasing the tempo of the masturbation.
Peter was thrilled at the sensation, feeling the hot bubbling come grow in his belly. She kept pumping at his cock faster and faster, and Peter smiled as the good feelings grew. Finally, his whole body stiffened and the room began swirling around in front of his eyes. Hot gushes of jizz spilled out into the washrag as the smiling nurse kept pumping away at his tool.
"There, wasn't that nice?" Peggy said as she wiped him off, pleased at how well the therapy had gone.
"Yes, Mother," the boy answered, his eyes staring off beyond her.