Brian, Part 3

Brian awoke from a drugged sleep to see Ingrid standing over his bed. He rubbed his eyes and her wide face came into focus. “Ingrid…” he muttered.

“You’re awake,” she observed with a smile.

“I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

“You were screaming,” Ingrid told him. “They gave you a shot.”

“Oh, yeah,” Brian said. He sighed. “I, uh…I don’t think I’m adjusting too well to the situation.”

“Maybe I can help you,” Ingrid offered.

Brian watched as she slid her hand behind his neck and undid the string holding his hospital gown together. She pulled it off and ran her soft hand down his chest. He felt a shiver go through his body as she touched the area of his stomach that he could no longer feel. She pulled back the covers and placed her hand on his diapers.

“Don’t do that,” he said.

She began to remove the strap holding the diaper on and Brian grabbed her hand. “I said don’t do that,” he repeated.

“Why not?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I can’t feel anything down there.”

“I know,” Ingrid told him. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t get an erection. I bet you’re real hard now.”

“No, I can’t,” Brian said in a choked voice. “I can’t get hard anymore. Please, Ingrid. I don’t want to…I’m afraid I’ll piss all over you.”

A look of disgust passed over Ingrid’s face and Brian turned his head away. She would leave now, he was sure of it. He was useless now that he couldn’t fuck her.

“Okay,” Ingrid agreed. “We’ll just cover it up.”

Brian held back tears as she pulled the covers over his lower body and lay down on top of him. She pressed her full lips against his and their tongues danced together. Then her tongue was all over him, his nose, his eyelids, his neck, his nipples, everywhere. It felt wonderful and he cried out in the silence of the hospital room. He couldn’t remember feeling this happy since Ivan had shot himself.


Ingrid felt like she was walking on clouds as she went back to the nurse’s station. She still felt Brian’s touch on every part of her body and her clit tingled delightfully. Ingrid had been out with several men in her short lifetime, but she had never felt so deeply attracted to any of them as she was to Brian. She had been working with spinal cord injured men for several years now, and she had always felt too overcome with pity for them to feel any emotions. Their motionless legs and penis had always dampened any sexual feelings she might have had for them.

But Brian was different. There was something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on. He was good looking, that was for sure, but it was something else as well. She felt somehow drawn to him and she wanted nothing more than to press her body against his.

Then again, he was paralyzed from the chest down. The doctors had nearly guaranteed that he would never be able to walk again. Ingrid could see that this diagnosis had crushed Brian, maybe more than she had ever seen in a patient before. He didn’t feel sorry for himself so much as he seemed to mourning a loss. Maybe not the loss of his legs, but something else. Perhaps the loss of his independence. Ingrid couldn’t say.

When Ingrid got to the nurse’s station, Andrea was already there drinking coffee. Ingrid knew that Andrea had fucked several of her patients, although none of the affairs had lasted past their time in the hospital. “Why do you look so happy?” Andrea demanded.

“Um…no reason,” Ingrid replied.

Andrea squinted at her. “Shit! You fucked one of your patients, didn’t you?”

“Keep your voice down!” Ingrid scolded.

“Holy shit,” Andrea muttered. “Miss Morals herself fucked a patient. Well, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Ingrid said softly, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting down near Andrea.

“So who was the lucky guy?” Andrea wanted to know.

Ingrid’s face flushed. “Brian. The T6 gunshot wound on the third floor.”

Andrea’s eyes widened. “Brian?”

“Yes,” Ingrid replied hesitantly.

“Oh, boy,” Andrea muttered. “You sure know how to pick ‘em…”

“Why? What’s wrong with Brian?”

Andrea shook her head. “I don’t want to be the one to tell you.”


“All right, all right,” Andrea said. “Do you know how he got shot?”


Andrea lowered her voice. “He was fucking his professor at college. His name was Ivan Petrova and he was about fifty years old. Apparently, the two of them were real hot and heavy for a while, smooching out in public and shit. Anyway, the prof’s wife found out about it and shot them both. Brian denied the whole thing, probably to avoid the publicity, so they had to let the wife out of jail, but everyone knows what really happened.”

“I don’t believe a word of it,” Ingrid declared, with more conviction than she felt.

“Believe it or not, it’s true,” Andrea said. “Brian is a fag…and if that weren’t bad enough, he likes old men.”

“That’s not true,” Ingrid said. “You never met him. You don’t know how ridiculous this is.”

“At least five other professors swore that Brian and that old guy were fucking each other,” Andrea told her. “I did meet Brian and frankly, I believe the whole thing.”

“So if he’s gay, how come he likes me?” Ingrid challenged.

“Likes you?” Andrea repeated with a laugh. “I doubt he likes you. He probably just feels bad about himself right now and wants to see if he can still seduce a girl. Seems like he can.”

“You’re wrong,” Ingrid said, but she had no confidence in her words.


Brian’s eyes blinked open and he saw a pretty girl dressed in white seated beside his bed. As his vision cleared, he could see she was dressed in a nurse’s uniform. He recognized her as one of the nurses who had changed his diaper a few times. Her nametag read “Andrea.”

“Good evening,” Andrea said.

“What time is it?” Brian asked her.


He yawned. “Jesus. I can’t even sleep through the night anymore.”

“Perhaps a sponge bath would help,” Andrea suggested.

Brian stared at her. For a second, a small smile played across his lips. “No, that’s okay. Thanks.”

Andrea slid her soft hand against his chest. “Are you sure?”

“Aren’t there any other paraplegics on this floor that you can seduce?”

Andrea’s jaw dropped open. “I…I’m not…”

“Please,” Brian muttered. “I’m fucking paralyzed. This is pathetic.”

“I don’t think you’re in any situation to be calling me pathetic,” Andrea commented.

“Fuck off.”

Andrea’s mouth tightened. “I know you’re not a fag. I know what you did with Ingrid.”

“So what?”

Andrea unbuttoned her blouse to reveal two perfect breasts. “So I know this turns you on.”

“I’m not in the mood,” Brian muttered. “Why don’t you go fuck a guy whose dick can respond to you?”

“You think you can find someone better than me?” Andrea spat. “Baby, I’m the hottest thing you’re ever going to get from that chair. Especially now that your lovely washboard stomach is turning to mush.”

Brian turned his head away. He didn’t want to think about the muscles of his lower body that were slowly deteriorating. Soon his legs would be like sticks. “Really. Get out.”

Glaring at him hatefully, Andrea buttoned her blouse. Brian watched her and he was suddenly overcome with the urge to reach over and kiss her.

“You’ll be sorry for this,” Andrea hissed. “You limp-dick son of a bitch.”

“Maybe you’ll be sorry for this,” Brian replied in a cold, calm voice.

Andrea’s brow furrowed. “What did you say to me?”

“I don’t think you want to fuck with me,” Brian said quietly.

Andrea opened her mouth, ready with an angry reply, but her blood grew cold when she saw the look in Brian’s eyes. Her hands dropped to her sides, and her legs nearly gave way beneath her. She swallowed hard, gathered up her strength, then ran out of the room never to return.


Brian heard his father’s voice outside and his breath caught in his throat. The day had come sooner than he had hoped. There had not been a word from Anna since their talk and now Paul would take him home and that would be the end of his life. He would only be allowed to lie in bed all day until his brain and body turned to mush.

When Paul entered the room with Ingrid, Brian realized he had never seen his father look so happy. Paul was beaming, happy to put on the good father act this one last time.

“Brian!” Paul cried. “Are you ready to come back home with your mom and dad?”

Ingrid was beaming too. “Brian’s made a lot of progress since he’s been here. We’ll miss him, but I’m sure he’s better off with his family.” Ingrid looked a little sad when she said that. Regretful maybe. She had fallen in love with Brian, but she knew she had no choice but to let him go.

She wheeled his chair over to the bed. “Look, sir. Brian can get in the chair himself now.”

“Really?” Paul said in an amused voice. “Well, I’d sure like to see that!”

Brian glared at him. God, he wished he could get out of this chair and slit that man’s throat. But instead, he reached out and grabbed the handles of his chair, then hoisted his body inside. He immediately began slipping in the chair, so he tied to seatbelt around his waist. His motionless legs remained on the bed, and Brian lifted each one into the chair and positioned them. His face was red by the time he was done.

“Wow,” Paul commented. “It’s really amazing what you can do with half a body.”

“Seems like he’s all set,” Ingrid said cheerfully. She glanced at Brian anxiously. There was something in her look that betrayed her somehow. Brian saw the change in Paul’s expression as he figured it all out. Brian was sorry. He didn’t want Paul to know any more than necessary.

“Hang on,” Paul said, a smile curling his lips. “I have a few questions before we embark on this journey.”

Brian closed his eyes. “Let’s just go.”

Paul held up a finger. “It’ll just be a minute.”

“Go ahead,” Ingrid said in that same cheerful voice.

“We’re going to be in that car for several hours. Is there any chance of…” Paul lowered his voice. “Brian wetting his pants?”

Ingrid’s mouth opened. “Oh…I don’t think so.”

“So what is he wearing? A diaper?”

“No, no,” Ingrid said, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. “He has on a condom catheter.”

“Condom catheter?” Paul asked in a slightly mocking tone. “What’s that?”

“It’s a tube,” Ingrid explained. “We put it up the penis to collect urine.”

“Really?” Paul sounded fascinated. “How does that work? I’d like to see that.” He turned to Brian. “Could I take a look?”

Brian was too angry to speak. He just stared at his father.

“Maybe you should show it to me, Nurse,” Paul said. “After all, I’ll probably spend my fair share of time changing it, so I’d like to see how it works.”

“Um, of course,” Ingrid agreed.

“Dad, we can do this later,” Brian said in a hard voice. It would have chilled anyone else, but Paul was not to be intimidated.

“I’d like to see now,” Paul said. “After all, Brian, it’s a new car. I really don’t want piss all over it, since you can’t control yourself.”

Brian wanted to Paul to try to unzip his pants. He wasn’t sure what he would do, but if Paul got close enough, he would make him pay. But it was Ingrid who unzipped him. She pulled out his limp penis and showed Paul the tube sticking out of it. At Paul’s insistence, she changed the tube for him. Paul’s eyes were lit up as the small tube slid in and out of Brian’s penis. Brian’s was ready to rip Paul’s face off by the time Ingrid was done.

“Thank you, Nurse,” Paul said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

Ingrid smiled. She bent down and gave Brian a hesitant hug. “We’ll miss you,” she told him. Her eyes were filled with water.

“I’ll miss you too, Ingrid,” Brian said gently.

Paul was smirking as he wheeled Brian out of the room. He bent down and put his lips close to his son’s ear. “You couldn’t fuck her, so what did you do, huh?” he asked.

“Fuck you,” Brian said.

“Ate her out, I guess,” Paul laughed. “I bet she liked that. You really get around, don’t you? I never thought you’d seduce a girl from a wheelchair, really. It’s a good thing I came when I did.”

“What do you want?” Brian demanded. “What will it take to get you to leave me alone?”

Paul’s eyes widened. “The only thing I want, Brian, is to see you suffer.”

Brian nearly choked. He was afraid to imagine what his father had in store for him. In a sudden fit of panic, he grasped the wheels of his chair and tried to prevent Paul from pushing him any farther.

Paul eased his hand onto Brian’s shoulder with an iron-hard grip. “Calm down, Brian,” he said. “We’re leaving here no matter what. The question is, do we have to pump you full of sedatives first?”

Brian slumped down in his seat. He had lost. The second Anna’s bullet had severed his spine, he had lost. All he could do now was resign himself to enduring a lifetime of suffering and humiliation.

“I do have a new car,” Paul went on. “I’ve been doing quite well since you left for college. As they say, things have been looking up. And now…well, this is far better than anything I could have expected. Why do you look so unhappy, Brian? Smile a little.”

“Excuse me, sir?” a voice spoke from behind them. Brian’s ears perked up at the familiar voice.

Paul slowed. “Yes?”

Anna Petrova stepped in front of Brian’s wheelchair. She was smiling broadly. “My name is Anna,” she introduced herself.

Paul frowned. “Nice to meet you, Anna. I’m in a bit of a hurry, so…”

“Anna Petrova.”

That stopped Paul in his tracks. He looked Anna up and down, taking in her plump features, the bags under her eyes, the pleasant smile. “You’re the woman who shot my son.”

Anna glanced down at Brian nervously. “No, Dad,” Brian said. “She didn’t shoot me.”

“What kind of bullshit is this?” Paul demanded. “Do you want to finish off the job you started? Be my guest, Mrs. Petrova.”

Anna cleared her throat. “I’ve decided to take care of Brian, so that he can continue attending school. I feel it’s only fair, since my husband was somewhat responsible for his condition.”

“That’s very nice of you,” Paul said in a low voice. “But I’m bringing Brian home so his mother can take care of him.”

“Well,” Anna smiled politely. “Since Brian is eighteen, I believe it’s his decision, isn’t it?”

Paul’s hands clenched into fists. He glared at Brian and then at Anna. “I don’t think you understand what you’re doing, Mrs. Petrova,” he spat. “I know what happened. Brian was fucking your husband. Now you want to take care of him? Are you insane?”

“No,” Anna’s jaw quivered slightly. “I am not insane. I’ve put a great deal of thought into this and I don’t appreciate your tone. I think you should please leave.”

Paul’s mouth fell open. He took a moment to collect himself. “Fine,” he hissed at Anna. “You take care of him. I guarantee you’ll be sorry. He’ll make you sorry.” Paul looked down at Brian. “Enjoy your life as a cripple.”

Paul stormed out, his face bright red. Brian watched him leave and his heart began to slow. “Anna,” he murmured. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I’m sorry for what I did,” Anna said tearfully. “I wanted to let you go, to not think about you anymore, but…I kept thinking about you stuck in that chair for the rest of your life because of what I did. You don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry, Brian, and I’ll do anything I can to make it up to you.”

Yeah, how big of you, Brian thought. I’m crippled forever, the only person I ever cared about is dead, and you want to make it up to me. Good fucking deal. “You have room in your house?” Brian asked her.

“Yes, of course,” Anna replied. She hesitated. “The house isn’t wheelchair accessible. I’ll have to make a few adjustments. But if you don’t mind having a bedroom on the first floor…”

“That’s fine,” Brian told her. “When can I move in?”

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