Emergence

"Fuuuuck," the other performer groans. She's pressed herself down on her partner, holding him in her slick depths. "Yeahhh, fuck! Oh."

Verified female orgasm: 25 points!

A wave of fan voting, evenly split between the two performers, pours in, creating a reverse snowfall of emojis floating up the screen. There are hearts, tongues, evil grins, wide eyes, and a dozen other compact expressions of lust and admiration. For a moment I wonder if Markus will vote for his favorite, but he just stays glued to the screen.

Once the pair of women have trembled through their orgasms, the announcer calls out the next instruction. "Deep throat!" Soon two mouths are stretching around their partners' cocks.

The second performer doesn't hesitate, immediately slamming her mouth down to the base.

Deep throat: 10 points, the display verifies.

The first performer, however, makes a show of licking and teasing her man's shaft. "My pussy tastes so good on you," she coos, making a slow lick from the balls up. "I want you to fill my throat, fill it like you did my pussy."

Dirty talk: 5 points.

I'm hard, really hard. This is noteworthy, as it has only been a week since Stephanie collected my semen. Most months I have no interest in sex for at least two weeks after an orgasm, sometimes longer. The show is good and the performers are hot, but I still shouldn't be responding like this, should I?

The show is nearing the end. Both performers collect waves of points for everything from how much cock they can swallow, how long they can hold it without gagging, etc. The woman with the streaked hair gets a special bonus for somehow slipping her tongue from her mouth at full penetration and licking her partner's balls. Both get points for coaxing forth heavy loads, and for how hot they look with their faces dripping with cum. When it's over the athletic blonde has lost by fewer than one hundred points.

"It's rigged," Markus grumbles, but he immediately leaves, no doubt to masturbate somewhere more private than my pod.

*

The garden, lovely as it is, has begun to feel cramped. I have an unfamiliar, restless energy that drives me on one loop after another around the little path. While I'm fairly sure I did at most five loops in an hour previously, I now count seven, then nine. Less than one week after cutting myself off from medicines number three and four the circuit is no longer a peaceful amble, it's a training course. I find myself cutting corners by leaping over them, ducking under branches without breaking my stride, and quickening my pace on the few straight stretches. I can do fifteen circuits and still not tire, so I take to grabbing a pair of rocks and carrying them in my fists, pumping my soft arms as I go.

And my libido is definitely increasing. I don't even make it another week before I decide to masturbate. When I ask, a touch of nervous energy spiking, the carepod's AI obligingly presents a porn video for me. It isn't a contest like the one that Markus had access to, but it's still quite hot. It's from a man's point of view. Two pretty young women are kneeling before him. They pull the actor's cock from his pants, gasp at the size, then start sucking and licking him.

My penis surprises me with an almost instant response. It looks bigger somehow, but that's probably just because of how hard it is. I stroke myself and a wave of pleasure shoots through me. In the video one of the models starts to lick the actor's balls, so I use my free hand to tug my sack, too. A touch of shame finds me. I can't remember masturbating before, can't remember even wanting to. Fourth Thursdays have always been enough of a release for me.

"He's so big, Jasmine," one of the models says, "think you can swallow it all?" The one named Jasmine opens her mouth and the man's cock plunges in. It's too big for her to engulf, but no one seems to care. Both of the models giggle and play with the strings of drool that escape their mouths. They pass his cock back and forth, sometimes tonguing his sack in between.

"Goddamn," I find myself muttering. From the timer in the video I can tell that I've already lasted longer than I do when my semen is collected, but I'm getting close. The tightening behind my balls is relentless, and I barely have to stroke the end of my cock to keep me on edge.

"I can't wait to taste his cum, Olivia," Jasmine giggles, and a groan from the porn actor says she won't have to wait long. His breath is getting rough, and soon he pulls his cock from Olivia's mouth and strokes it. The two young women begin making out, sliding their tongues together sloppily, their chins already slick. The actor groans, squeezes his dick, and shoots a rope of cum onto Jasmine's cheek. She jerks back involuntarily, but Olivia is there to lick the cum. Another rope of cum slaps perfectly against Olivia's mouth and now it's Jasmine's turn to clean it up. Soon the two are covered in cum, swapping it back and forth, kissing, and moaning.

I ejaculate too, shooting a glob of cum onto my stomach as I'm rewarded with a powerful orgasm. The pleasure of release even reaches my feet, trembling my thighs and calves along the way. When at last it subsides I just lay there for a few minutes, catching my breath. Why don't I do this every day?

*

Doctor Kapp is suspicious. I suppose it's my fault for asking him about going home the last time he checked up on me. And perhaps someone told him about my running in the garden. Or jerking off. Do they have cameras on me?

"Would you say your energy levels were higher than usual?" He's staring at my chart like he always does. I realize with a clarity that escaped me before that he's intimidated by me. I can't imagine why.

"Sure, a little," I say. Then I add, "I feel good."

"Mmm." He taps a button on his holo display. "Current on all your medications?"

"Oh yes. Markus is quite diligent." Markus is probably the least diligent person in the hospital.

He closes his holo display. "High energy levels aren't good for your condition," he explains. "I'll speak with my peers about your medication." He's looking over my head as if the wall holds greater interest than his patient. "Stephanie is timely on the collections?"

Temptation rises within me. I want to say "No, she needs to come more often," but I doubt this will play well with Kapp. He's already suspicious. Instead I say, "Very timely, thank you for asking."

Kapp raises himself with a labored sigh and leaves. He's the leader of my care team, so if he wants to increase my meds I doubt the other doctors will object. On the other hand, if the extra meds simply spill on to the floor then I don't see a problem.

My alertness and energy may become a problem. The very next afternoon Markus comes to deliver my meds as usual, and as usual jerks my arm into position to attach the cuff. His barely restrained aggression bothers me more with each visit, and today I can't take it. When he yanks on my upper arm I push him back. "It'll reach as-is," I say. There's more of an edge to my voice than is prudent.

Markus flicks me a startled glare, but eventually just mutters something puerile, the sort of insult a fifth grader would hesitate to recycle. The cuff reaches just fine and he attaches it before returning to his holo display. Again the medicine from the two damaged pads drips onto the towel I already have laid out.

*

I've been struggling with how much I should tell Stephanie, but when our appointment time finally arrives I can tell she already has something on her mind. She closes the carepod door, secures it, and switches on the 'Private: Medical Treatment in Progress' sign. She doesn't want to be interrupted.

"Mr. Simms," she says, but then hesitates a moment to glance at my chart. "Or may I call you Jasper?"

It's like standing up too soon. My head swims with the word, which is both a dim memory and immediately familiar. I can't recall anyone using my first name at the hospital, but I'm hit with a wave of recognition nonetheless. "Y-yes," I say. "You can call me that. Stephanie."

She's still a touch nervous, but smiles at the mention of her name. "Good," she says, "I like being on a first name basis with you. Now, Jasper, I think I already know your preference for before or after."

"After," I say with a smile. She'll collect my semen after doing the other tests. Despite having masturbated just a week earlier, I'm eager for release.

Businesslike, but still with a faint smile, Stephanie collects the samples she needs. She draws several tubes of blood, twirls the nasal swab, and collects other readings from the wristband that she attaches. The carepod itself records my weight and reports it for collection.

"Now," she says, "there's something else we need to discuss."

Stephanie hasn't brought out a semen collection dish, which worries me. "Okay," I say, trying not to let my concern show.

"I'd like to give you a really, really special semen collection today. An extra pleasurable one. Does that sound nice?"

My mind runs wild with the possibilities and my penis immediately responds. "Very nice," I assure her.

But instead of tearing off her clothes, or whatever else my fantasy mind had hoped for, Stephanie sits back. "Do you like it here, Jasper?"

Four weeks ago I probably wouldn't have had an opinion. The hospital is the only 'here' I can remember, and only as far back as six months or so. But the place is definitely annoying me more and more. "No," I say, "I don't."

Stephanie must have known what my answer would be because she continues in the same tone. "What if I told you I could get you out?"

Out? I had just asked Kapp this question and been denied. "Out, like, 'go home' out?"

"Not home. Not yet. But somewhere that you can get better. To rediscover who you are."

That resonates. I started rediscovering who I am as soon as two of my meds were cut off. "Of course, yeah. Get me out of here. Can we go now?"

She chuckles. "You'll have to wait a little while. Jasper, you have to understand that Kapp and the others don't want you to leave. They'll never let you. To leave, you'll have to escape."

"They'll discharge me when I get better, though."

"No," she says solemnly, "you'll never get better. The meds you're on-"

"Are keeping me sick, right?"

"In a way, yes."

This isn't exactly a shock. "So how do I escape?"

"I'll tell you," Stephanie promises, and I can see that there's a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "But first the semen collection."

In the discussion about escaping I had almost forgotten about the highlight of my day. To make up for it, I hastily clutch at the waistband of my flimsy hospital pants.

"Not just those," Stephanie laughs, "everything."

"What?"

"Undress all the way."

I just gape at her and repeat, "What?"

"Unless you don't want to fuck me," Stephanie clarifies. She's teasing at the top button of her blouse.

My fantasy mind is back in full gear. I finish tugging off my pants, the socks with the little traction strips on the bottom, and my shirt. It's the first time that Stephanie has seen me naked, and I can't help but feel a touch of body shame. I'm fairly tall, but my body is soft, lacking definition. If I see someone naked or partially undressed it's usually on a show, and actors tend to be fairly buff.

But Stephanie must be okay with it, because she begins undressing in earnest. She pops the buttons on her blouse slowly enough that it's a bit of a tease, then slips it over her shoulders. She's slender, with a delicate build which becomes more evident as she frees herself from her pants.

"You're beautiful."

"I bet you say that to all of the nurses." She pops off her lace bra to reveal small, high breasts.

My instinct is to protest, to say that no, she really is uniquely beautiful. Then I realize I have no idea. I've been told that I'm twenty-seven. Surely before I was hospitalized I had girlfriends, or at least flings. Try as I might, I can't recall a single face, a gentle touch. A kiss.

"I don't say that to Markus."

Stephanie snorts. "I don't even think he qualifies as a nurse." She tugs off her panties. "I am a nurse, and it's my duty to collect your semen."

"You don't have a collection dish," I say with a wink. "Or lube."

"Oh, I have a place to store the semen alright. And the lube?" Here she slips a finger to her bare slit, pulling it back to reveal a glistening coating. "I don't think we need it."

I'm ready, too. Without me even being aware of it, I've started to stroke my cock. Stephanie lowers the back of the bed to the full horizontal position, then vaults on top of me. She brushes my hand away, finds my organ, and slips it in.

Surely nothing should feel so heavenly! Stephanie's vagina wraps me in its impossibly sweet embrace. She goes tentatively at first as she works herself fully onto me, but soon relaxes against my body. "Yes," she moans, "this is so much better than jerking you off."

I'm so overwhelmed with pleasure that I can only mutter an almost incomprehensible "Fuck yeah it is!"

She begins to slide along me, pulling mostly off before pushing back down. I relax and let her do as she pleases, but there's a question which has been bothering me. "Why?"

"Why?" she giggles. "Do I need a reason to fuck you?" Her face is angelic, haloed by her fine, brown hair.

"No, I mean," my brain is half scrambled with pleasure, "why help me?"

"Mmm," she says. "I see." She lays fully on top of me now, our bodies connected from thighs to where her mouth reaches my ear. Her warm breath is against me. "Someone asked me to."

That wasn't what I expected to hear. "Someone who? Family?"

"No, not family." She's doing her best to distract me, licking and nuzzling my neck, rising up for her nipples to tease my chest. "Someone who cares about you."

"But why are you helping?" My cock is drenched with her desire.

"Jasper! Don't you want to fuck?"

"Yeah yeah. Don't stop."

"I won't," she says, her angelic smile returning, "but I want to cum and I can't do that with you asking so many questions. So shut up and give me what I want."

I clamp my mouth shut with exaggerated compliance.

"That's good," Stephanie says, and for several minutes she does nothing more than slide and grind against me. Her breath gets rough, her skin flushes, and her eyes slide shut. Soon she starts to tremble. "Yeah," she says softly, then a moment later adds, "yeah, right there." I'm not sure if she's talking to me or to herself, but she's close.

I stroke her hair, cheeks, and arms, marveling at her softness. Part of me can't believe this is happening to me - the first sexual experience in my tattered memory. But somewhere deeper there's an ease and familiarity that tells me I've been here before plenty.

"Jasper," Stephanie moans, "Jasper, fuck." With no warning she digs her fingers into my chest as her pussy clamps down. She's cumming, a wordless but intense rapture seizing her delicate body. She collapses against me and I hold her, sharing the aftershocks of her orgasm.

I'm still hard, and after cradling Stephanie for a minute I find myself pushing into her, seeking my own release. She notices.

"That was a keeper," she says. "I'm amazed you didn't cum, although I suppose I shouldn't be."

"Why?"

"Most guys pop when I ride them like that."

"Okay, so why shouldn't you be surprised?"

Stephanie pushes herself up, eyeing me carefully. "Okay," she says, "this is the part where I tell you why I'm going to help you."

"Okay." I push into her and this time she pushes forward to meet me.

"I kind of knew who you were when they assigned me to you. They give us notes."

"You knew I was Jasper Simms."

"Oh, I knew your name for sure. But only I only knew a little about who you really were."

I can't imagine what more there could be about me than my name, so I stay silent.

"Then someone approached me, someone who knew who you had been. I mean, before you were brought to this hospital." She's grinding against me faster now.

The tantalizing hint of my past is just hanging there. "He told you about me? My past?"

"She," Stephanie explains. "She asked for my help getting you out."

"Why did you help, though? Why take the risk?"

Stepanie's smile is a touch more wicked this time. "For this."

"For this what?"

"No, for this." Stephanie raises herself until she's almost perpendicular, her hands resting on my abs, pumping faster. "I helped her out because I wanted to fuck you."

I can't imagine what possible response makes sense here. "What? Why me?"

"Because, Jasper, you're faaaaaamous!" She flops forward once again, her lips inches from my ear. I can't take much more; we've been fucking for at least fifteen minutes and I'm about to pop. Stephanie whispers into my ear. "I wanted to fuck a celebrity."

There's a question on my lips but I'm too consumed with lust to voice it. I arch my back, scratch my fingers against the linens, and cum. "Fuuuck!" This is ten times better than masturbating, better even than I had imagined when watching porn videos. My cock is buried in the ultimate semen extraction device, wet, tight, and hot. The first shot is followed by a series of pulses, each weaker but no less pleasurable than the one before it. Stephanie and I are a tangle of sweaty, panting bodies. It's incredible.

Only much later, when we've lain together for so long that I'm cool from my perspiration, I ask Stephanie the natural question. "I'm famous? Jasper Simms is famous?"

She rolls off of me to lay as comfortably as possible on the narrow carepod bed. "Jasper, you have no idea."

*

Stephanie has explained to me that my opportunity for escape will come in one week, so of course that week crawls by. To make matters even more difficult to bear, she's warned me against any uncharacteristic behaviors. I ease up on my circuits through the garden, still moving faster than I used to, but no longer running with the rocks in my fists. And I don't jerk off again, even though my session with Stephanie seems to have stoked my simmering libido.

Doctor Kapp does boost my dosage of whatever medicine number three is. I can see more of the runny goop in the cartridge when Markus brings it in. Stephanie's eyes went wide when I told her that I was no longer getting those meds, but then laughed and said, "Well, that explains a few things." She wants me to repair the damage to the cuff so I don't get caught in these last few days, but I refuse. I'm afraid if I start getting number three again I'll lose the will to escape.

Here's how the plan goes. We'll have another celebrity visitor next week. Not like the first guy, who I'm sure was a politician, but a senior executive in the hospital system. Our local chief wants to impress her so he's rolling out as many ambulatory patients as possible. The crowd and a planned disruption should give me an opportunity to flee.

Until then, I have plenty of time to consider the revelation that I'm some sort of celebrity.

The idea strikes me as ludicrous. The celebrities that come to mind are actors, and most of them are in better shape than I am. I'm tall enough, but I'm soft, not at all like the hunks that populate shows. Plus, why kidnap a celebrity? Stephanie wouldn't say who I am, merely that I'd find out soon enough once I was free. So I keep to myself, not running, not jerking off, and not searching for porn. Great.

The day of the planned escape Markus once again leads me toward the atrium. It's intimidating, the soaring roof, walls of glass with sunlight pouring through, and a hundred or more people all out in the open. My scant memories all involve my carepod, one or two corridors, and the walled garden.

I try a strategy suggested by Stephanie, and which I agree will work. As we're walking toward the atrium I ask Markus if we can stand near the front so I have a good view of the visitor. Predictably he instead steers me to the farthest corner possible. Perfect. I can still catch glimpses of the little procession as it weaves its way across the polished marble floor and toward the central stairs. Halfway up they pause so the visiting executive can deliver what I'm sure will be an inspiring speech.