A Gift From God

When I first woke up, I was unclear on where I was, how I got there, or how long I had been out. There was the beeping of machines, the walls of the room were sterile and white, and there was the smell of disinfectant. Even though my vision was blurry, I quickly figured out I was in a hospital. At least after whatever happened, I made it through and I was getting help.

I had to think back, but it almost hurt to try and think too hard. My head felt heavy, and it felt like sorting through my thoughts was like trying to walk through the water at the bottom of the ocean. I could remember who I was and details about my life, but the most recent things, the accident, was a blur of impressions.

I knew there was some kind of car accident. It was dark, I was driving home alone from work, and another car did something. It swerved at me, or was in the wrong lane, and I swerved to avoid it, and hit a street light. I remember lots of spinning lights, but I don't remember the impact, or getting out of the car, or being brought to a hospital, or anything.

What was clear was that I had an accident, my thoughts immediately went to my wife, Tara. Thank the lord above that she wasn't in the car with me! She's the love of my life, the center of my being, my everything.

We were childhood friends, and our love blossomed and it was like it was always meant to be. As if somehow we were designed to be together. We played together as kids, before we knew anything about love and sex. Then, when we became teenagers, she quickly became a beautiful woman. She developed early, and it was soon obvious she was going to be more than just an attractive woman. She was drop dead gorgeous. She always had the classic blond hair and deep blue eyes that people commented on. When she developed, though, she became curvaceous, yet strong and tall.

Of course, as her breasts got bigger and bigger, she got more and more attention from boys. Even though she was a couple years younger than me, she started dating before me at fifteen, and by the time she was seventeen had gone out with a few different boys. I also started dating a little, but deep down I only wanted Tara. I remained her best friend even when she was with other boys.

The happiest day of my life, though, was about two years after Tara graduated high school, and she confessed she loved me too. She wanted to try other boys first to be sure, but she said she found that none of them could provide her with the love she wanted. She was sure that what we had must be what she was looking for. I said I was always certain, and we have been together ever since. We got engaged three years ago, then married two years ago.

Tara was now in her early twenties, and only getting more beautiful. Her long straight blond hair reached down to the small of her back, she wore tight body hugging clothes with short skirts and tall boots with heels. She would be attention grabbing even if she didn't have enormous breasts. However, her tits, massive, round, firm yet soft, and perfectly shaped even if exaggerated in size, pulled in attention in that no man could resist.

I can't help but be proud of her beauty and talk about it, but if she were just beautiful, we might not have such a committed relationship. She's kind, and we can laugh together, and she's always there for me like I am for her.

I wasn't surprised to see her in the corner of the room, sleeping in a chair, waiting for me. That's how she was.

That's when I realized that I was in an unusually bad situation. I tried to say something to her, to wake her up. It was sometime in the night, so she might have been sleeping deeply. I tried to speak loudly, but my mouth wouldn't even move. So I tried to raise an arm, and it wouldn't move. Nothing would move. I could see, but that was about it. I could move my eyes, but even they moved slowly, and my eyelids were heavy.

It was like being in some kind of waking coma. I lay there in bed, propped up so that I was half sitting. I watched her for hours, trying to communicate with her, trying to will her to notice I was awake, but to no avail. It was torture, seeing my love right in front of me but not being able to reach out to her in any way.

At long last, she shifted, and then got up and came over to check on me. She noticed my eyes open and screamed out, "Oh my god! John! You're awake! Oh my god, John, I was so worried!" However, as I didn't respond, as my eyes didn't even focus clearly on her, she began to realize something was wrong. She ran out of the room to get a nurse.

A few minutes later, she returned. There was a nurse and a doctor with her. The nurse was very attractive. Brown eyes and brown hair, a nice body and big tits. She was quite beautiful, though of course not as beautiful as my wife. The doctor was older. A tall, square jawed man with grey around the temples that made him look distinguished. He came up and looked into my eyes with a small pen light, and then turned to talk to my wife.

"I'm afraid, Tara, that the situation is as we had feared," The doctor said. "His eyes have opened, but it's just an automatic, reflexive motion, he's no more awake now than when he was in the coma. In fact, he's essentially still in a coma." I tried to move, to shake, to do anything that would show the doctor that he was wrong, but I couldn't do anything. Tara began to cry. My heart sank watching her being so distraught. I wanted to scream out that I could see her, that I was conscious, that the doctor was wrong. Seeing her in pain was so much worse than anything I was experiencing myself!

"Tara," the doctor said with sympathy, "I need to do some checks on John, and I think it would be best for the moment if you didn't watch. I'm not going to do anything drastic, but I think it might be upsetting to watch your husband being treated medically while you're understandably distraught. In fact, I think you should perhaps take the night off. We now know his condition won't change for quite a while, and you'll be stronger if you resume a more normal schedule."

"But," Tara said, unsure of herself, "this is an improvement, isn't it? Shouldn't I stay and see if he gets any better?"

"Tara," the doctor said with a very patronizing tone, "we did discuss this possibility. I understand your desire to be here if something changes. However, I have to stress that you need to maintain your strength for what will most likely be a long process. Please, take my advice. Go home, get some rest, have something to eat. You can come back in the morning if you like, and we'll keep you informed the moment anything happens."

Tara hesitated, but eventually nodded her agreement. She got her purse and jacket, and the nurse escorted her out of the room. I wanted to convey something to her to say that I was doing better than the doctor was saying, but I couldn't. I had to just watch her leave. My heart sank as she walked out the room. I felt like nothing could heal me more than her presence.

"Now, John," the doctor said directly to me. He surprised me because he suddenly started talking as if I was awake and alert. "I know you're probably confused. I know that you're fully conscious and aware, but can't move or express yourself." I was actually glad for a moment, because the doctor knew I was doing better than he was just saying to Tara. It took me a moment to realize that meant he had just lied to my wife. Something was going on, but I assumed for the moment that he had lied to protect my wife from what might be some bad news.

"John, I have some good news and bad news for you," the doctor said, continuing. "The good news is that you had a clot in your brain that had put you in a coma, and we removed that clot, and you would actually recover in a matter of days. That's the good news."

"The bad news," the doctor continued, with a wicked smile, "is that I don't intend to let you come out of the catatonic state you are now in." Even if I had any ability to move, I don't know if I would have, I was so stunned. I couldn't understand what he was saying. "I can control and maintain chemically, through the intravenous going into your blood stream, the degree to which you can move. In other words, I can decide when, and if, you ever come out of the state you are in now."

I can't even begin to describe how shocked and confused I was. This insane doctor wasn't trying to cure me, he was keeping me captive! An instinctive urge in me wanted to jump up and attack him, but there wasn't a single movement in my body. Not even the slightest muscle response.

"You see, John," said the doctor, "Your wife is one of the most incredibly erotic, sexy, and statuesque women I have ever seen. It makes my cock hard just to look at her. And those tits! My god, those huge fucking tits! I have a particular fondness for large jugs, and your wife has huge, perfect, round breasts that are practically hypnotizing. They're bigger than volleyballs, firm, and yet soft. I can't wait to see them drenched in my cum."

"I don't know how a lesser man like you got her," the doctor continued, "but it's time to right that wrong. I am going to fuck your wife, John. I am going to seduce her, fuck her like you've never fucked her, and take her from you. Your accident and arrival here is possibly the worst thing that could have happened to you, but its one of the most fortunate accidents for me. Things just have a way of working out for me! Hah hah hah!" He laughed to express his satisfaction with his own life, and then continued with a casual tone of talking, which made it even more evil than if he had been speaking bombastically like a villian. "I could have let you just stay in a coma and be completely unaware while I slowly made your wife betray you, but I thought you might enjoy the show! Ha ha ha!"

At this point, I wanted to laugh myself. This doctor was clearly insane. The way he talked as if he could just snap his fingers and take another man's wife was obviously a delusion. In particular, though, he had no idea of my wife and I and our love for each other. He didn't know that she had tried dating other guys and decided on me. She could have been with any man she wanted, and she knew it, and she chose me. There was no way this man could take my wife, and I almost pitied him for thinking he could. He would end up just making a fool of himself. If I could have talked, I would have dared him to try.

The nurse came back in the room, and I was surprised yet again when she hurriedly walked up to the doctor and began kissing him passionately. He grabbed her big boobs and massaged them eagerly. He clearly did have a fetish for large breasts.

"Did you tell him?" the nurse asked, as if she was in on an exciting secret. "Yes I did," the doctor responded. The nurse then turned to me and said, "I almost feel sorry for you. You should see what he has done to all my boyfriends. He keeps finding new cruel twists." I could barely understand what she meant. All her boyfriends? Did that mean that she was in on it? She seemed to enjoy being with him and what he was planning with me.

"I wonder if he believes you?" the nurse said, as she walked around to see closer into my eyes, looking for some hint of how I felt despite my lack of response. "Maybe you think that it won't happen. If you do, you're wrong. Before I met him, I had a boyfriend that I loved for years. I wouldn't have believed I'd cheat on him, eventually break his heart. But I did. And I discovered I liked it. And I've liked doing it ever since. So will your wife." The nurse laughed and walked back to the doctor. She began stroking his cock with her hands over his pants, and kissing him while he unbuttoned her uniform. Her big tits cradled in her bra spilled out, and the doctor looked pleased.

As I watched helplessly, I felt a strange mix of anger and confusion. These people were obviously insane. They could never get away with this. Tara would never fall for a crazy pervert like this doctor, and surely the hospital would have ways of preventing a situation like this. There were other doctors.

As if he were reading my mind, the doctor spoke to me while continuing to look at the nurse's tits. "If you're thinking you might be able to get help from someone else in the hospital, then let me dispel that illusion for you right away. I was born into incredible wealth and privilege, and I only work as a doctor and psychiatrist because it creates amusing opportunities to find new wives of other men to fuck. I have a special arrangement here, people work for me, and I have a system in place. You are entirely at my mercy."

"No, there is no hope for you," the doctor said. "You have inadvertently fallen into my web, and from the moment you did, you became an amusement for my cock, and your wife another prize for me to take." He and the nurse laughed, a confident, satisfied laugh.

"Oh," the doctor said when he finally settled down. "I haven't properly introduced myself. My name is Dr. Castle. At least, that's how I'm known to many men, like you, who have lost their wives to me."

I blacked out as he began to laugh again. I think the nurse made an adjustment to the medicine that was slowly flowing into me through the intravenous tubes into the arm. The last thing I saw was the nurse sliding down to her knees in front of Dr Castle at the foot of my bed. As the scene in front of me faded out, I knew that I was helpless to stop this crazy man from trying to seduce my wife. At the same time, however, I knew that my wife was not just beautiful on the outside, she was beautiful on the inside. I could trust her completely. She would resist his advances for long enough for me to figure a way out of this situation.

Coming in and out of consciousness was how it was going to be for the days and weeks and months to come. I would fall in and out of sleep, not dreaming, and not remembering when I fell asleep.

When I was awake next, my bed had been cleaned with fresh sheets, and my wife was sitting in a chair beside me. She was reading a book, passing the time. It seemed like the room was lit by daylight, though I have no idea what time it was, or what day.

My wife looked so beautiful sitting there, casually reading her book. She was wearing a low scoop next shirt, so I had plenty of time to stare down her ample cleavage, which I didn't mind. Sometimes she would shift just a little, and her big boobs would wobble just a little. I wanted to be able to move so that I could fuck her. I wanted to exercise my right as her husband to touch her and fuck her like no other man could.

However, I was stuck there with no way to let her know I was awake. It was a sweet form of torture to be so close to her and so far.

Eventually, she looked up and saw my eyes open. She smiled, got up, and she kissed me on the forehead. Then she put her arms around my head and snuggled up against me so that my head and face were buried in her gargantuan tits, each breast bigger than my head. She were firm and soft like high quality pillows, and smelled like some soft, gentle, perfume. If I was to die here, this is how I would want it to be.

"John, darling," she said softly, "I know you can't really hear me, but maybe if I talk, in some way the message will get through. I just want you to know I love you and I'll stick by you for as long as it takes. You're strong and healthy, so I know that you'll pull through this."

I was so moved that I could feel my eyes get wet, though it seemed that even the involuntary act of crying was inhibited. It was only then that I remembered what the insane Dr Castle had said to me the night before. Now, though, instead of filling me with rage and murderous intent, here with my wife telling me of her devotion, his plans seemed simply ridiculous. He had no idea what he was up against. He must think that any woman as sexy as Tara is a simple minded slut, but she had a true heart of gold. The man was a fool, and as the soft touch of the skin in her cleavage lovingly smothered me, I was totally assured of how my marriage was stronger than anything he could do to try and get between us.

There was only one problem, which was that when Dr Castle finally came to realize that his plan would fail, he would have to kill me. After all, if I came out of my coma, surely he knew that I would come after him. If I could prove that he deliberately kept me in a coma, I would have him arrested. And if I couldn't, then I would go at him myself and not rest until I had vengeance. If he was able to fake my coma, he could probably fake the cause of my death. So I had to plan for that, and act quickly, because there was no telling when a crazy man like Dr Castle would get frustrated enough by my wife's refusals that he would abandon his plan to seduce her.

I had the start of a plan right away. Dr Castle assumed that he had cut off all communication from me, but that wasn't entirely true. I found that I could control my blinking, and if I the right person was looking at me, I could maybe get their attention. I could answer yes or no questions, and convey simple messages. My eyelids felt heavy and it was difficult to move them, but I knew over time I could practise more control.

It wasn't much, but it was what I had, and I knew that if I was patient and careful, I could make it work. Human ingenuity! Even when it seemed like I was completely helpless, I had found a small loophole I could exploit. Dr Castle was far too over confident in his ability to control other people.

The most difficult part of my plan was that I couldn't try to communicate to my wife, even though I so desperately wanted to. I knew, however, that if I did, she would definitely tell Dr Castle, innocently thinking that he was helping me. As far as I could tell, she had no idea that Dr Castle might be an evil madman, so she would report to him any progress I made as one would to any normal doctor.

I held back from making any communication, which was harder than you can imagine. That I could only blink may not seem like much, but you don't know the feeling of being trapped in your own body. It was my only outlet, my only way to reach out to other people, to the people I loved, and so I wanted to do it more than anything I have ever wanted in my life. I was in a life or death struggle, though, and that gave me the fortitude to stay disciplined.

Tara sat back down in the chair. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. I wasn't able to move my eyes much, but I could see more in my periphery than maybe a regular person could. I think just because I had no distractions at all, and could focus on it entirely.

"This book I'm reading," Tara said, "says that a person in a coma can sometimes still unconsciously understand things they hear even if they won't remember it and they don't have any conscious understanding of it. The book says it's good to talk to you, because it will help keep your brain active."

"You've been out for a few days since the accident. Your parents came to town for the first few days, but they had to go back because of your father's work. Some of your friends have been by, I'm sure they'll stop by again. I had to start back at work again yesterday. The gym where I work is short on staff, so I was teaching Yoga all day yesterday..."

Tara went on to tell me all about her day, and about people, and I loved every minute of it. Her soft, sweet voice painted pictures for me in my mind. I could see her in every situation she described, laughing and smiling and making everyone around her feel at ease as she always did.

She talked to me for what seemed like hours. She took breaks to read sometimes, and left to go eat, and went to the washroom, and I wished she would never stop. However, I knew it would be impossible for her to talk non stop.

It got darker in the room, and it was getting late. Lara started to tell me about more intimate things.