The Freedom of Being Helpless

The flash of the blue and red lights reflected in the glass of the emergency room doors as the ambulance stopped backing up and the doors flew open. The paramedics jumped out, sliding the gurney out of the emergency vehicle, and rushed their patient into the open hospital doors. Bic Randall followed close behind the scurrying medics. He was not going to be even an arm's length away from the man who lay bleeding on the gurney, for the man was wearing Bic's handcuffs, and that made him item number one as far as the Texas Ranger was concerned.

The paramedics rolled the bleeding patient into one of the cubicles of the emergency room, and began to spit out medical stats to a waiting nurse who wrote furiously on a clipboard filled with papers and called out for the resident in a flat medical voice, which was devoid of anything but urgency. Randall stepped inside the cubicle just as the young resident entered the room. He looked at the gurney and the handcuffs, which secured the bleeding patient to its steel rails and turned back to face Randall.

"I take it he belongs to you?"

Randall nodded and extended his hand.

"Bic Randall, Sergeant, Texas Rangers."

The young resident motioned Randall farther inside the cubicle and then shut the door behind them. He pointed to the bloody handcuffs and quietly asked, "Are those really necessary?" Randall looked at the young doctor without a hint of a smile and simply nodded again.

"alright, you're the law, but we have to get him off the ambulance stretcher. Can you unlock him so we can do that?"

Randall stepped over to the stretcher and slipped his key into the lock of the bloodstained cuffs. With a quick turn of his wrist, the cuffs sprang open and the prostrate man with the hole in his chest was whisked onto the emergency room table. Randall's hands never lost their grip on the patient during the transfer.

As the paramedics retrieved their gurney and opened the door of the cubicle to leave, Randall attached the open cuff to a corner of the steel table and stood back as the emergency room crew flew into action. They began cutting clothing from the bleeding patient and typing and cross matching blood for transfusions. They stuck needles in one arm while checking blood pressure on the other. Randall stood back against the wall, watching closely as the medics tried to save the life of his prisoner. At the steady orders of the young resident, the nurses moved with silent precision to stop the bleeding from a concise bullet hole, two inches to the left of the man's sternum. It was decided that whole blood was needed and a bag was placed on the IV stand and readied for use, when a stern female voice turned everyone in the room to stone.

"What is going on in here?"

Randall's eyes followed those of everyone else in the room to discover a tall, austere looking woman standing in the doorway. Randall was almost six foot three, and the first thing he noticed was that this corporate Amazon almost looked him in the eye. That could have been helped by the extreme high heels she was wearing, but there was no getting around the fact that she was just plain tall. As she began to question the young resident in tones of unmistakable authority, Randall was overwhelmed by her presence. She was stern and even fierce in her demeanor, a quality which was only enriched by the cold beauty of her features. She wore a blue business suit with a high collar, which was set off by a scarf. The suit was custom tailored, but could not hide the fact that her breasts were nothing short of enormous. In fact, on some women such voluptuous bounty would appear almost grotesque, but as Randall's eyes traced the lines of her to discover a trim waist and long legs, he had to admit that the swell of her breasts made her undeniably lovely. She wore her abundant dark hair in a matronly bun on the back of her neck. It was an affectation that would put off most men, and seemed calculated to do just that. The hairdo fit with the steel in her voice as she interrogated the young Doctor, who stood silent and fidgeting by the bleeding patient. When all eyes in the room seemed to turn to the Texas Ranger, Randall realized that the woman's icy tones were being directed at him.

"Are you responsible for this, Sheriff?"

Randall grimaced and swallowed hard before answering.

"Ranger, Ma'am."

"What?"

"Sgt. Bic Randall, Texas Rangers, and no ma'am. He's responsible for that hole in his chest."

The tall, busty vision strode into the cubicle to stand next to the patient, her high heels making staccato taps as she crossed the tile floor. With every movement she made, Randall found her more and more enticing. She stood looking down at the bloody handcuffs which bound the patient to the steel table.

"Are these yours?"

Her voice seemed somewhat husky for a moment. She looked at the bloodstained steel with an almost hungry curiosity and reached toward the manacles, running her fingers just above the spattered chain, without really touching it.

"We can't have this, you know."

Randall turned in her direction and started to answer, but she spun to face him, cutting him off before he could speak.

"This is a place of healing, not a prison. The Doctors and nurses cannot do their jobs with him trussed up like that. You'll have to unlock him."

Randall leaned back against the wall and shook his head.

"I'm sorry ma'am. I can't do that."

The fire that boiled up behind the dark eyes of the tall one, made her seem even more desirable to Randall. He smiled slightly and shook his head again, which only served to anger her more.

"Can you give me one good reason why I should let you keep this poor man chained up like an antebellum slave?"

Randall started to open his mouth and do just that, when he noticed a movement from the prone figure lying on the table. The Ranger lunged across the floor, grabbing the voluptuous vixen by the arm and swinging her out of the way, just as the handcuffed patient reached out to the instrument table next to him and grasped a scalpel. He swung the blade in an arc across his body, catching Randall with a slicing blow across his left arm. The blade then circled and sliced toward the nurse by the bedside, missing her and cutting in half the bag of whole blood on the IV stand. The red fluid flew across the bed in a huge liquid ball, drenching the tall one as she tried to recover from Randall's grasp. The Ranger stepped over the bed and grasped the free wrist of the thrashing patient, pulling the scalpel from his hand. With a long slow gasp, the man on the table lost consciousness. The young resident leaped to begin CPR on the patient, as nurses rushed in with a crash cart. There was a fury of activity which came to no avail. In a few minutes, the patient was pronounced dead and Randall reached over to retrieve his handcuffs from the man's bloody wrist.

As he walked from the cubicle, Randall found a blood soaked, but still steely eyed tall one, awaiting him. "I suppose you will use that as a reason," she said in flat authoritarian tones. "I might," Randall retorted and then was surprised that the tall one took his bloody arm in her hands and began to dress his wound with skill and a remarkably gentle touch.

"This is not too bad. Have the nurse finish dressing it and then come up to my office."

She turned and walked haughtily away, the strident taps of her high heels ringing down the hallway with a decidedly confident cadence. Randall turned and walked back into the cubicle, where one of the nurses began to bandage his arm.

" What's the story on her?"

The nurse looked up and smiled sardonically.

"You mean Dr. Ice Queen?"

"Doctor? --- She's a Doctor here."

The young nurse frowned and finished securing the bandage.

"I'm afraid it's worse than that. She's the hospital administrator."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. No sir, Mr. Ranger. Around here she's the tallest hog at the trough."

Randall squeezed his hand into a fist several times and nodded his head in approval. He winked at her in thanks and started out the door, then turned back.

"What do you know about this Ice Queen?"

The nurse looked back at Randall and shook her head.

"Oh no you don't cowboy. You're not getting me mixed up in this."

"In what?"

"I saw the way your pulse rate jumped when you got a look at that mountain range on her chest."

Randall looked at the floor and stammered a little.

"I'm that obvious, huh?"

"Not any more than any other man who catches sight of her for the first time. They all want to get up to bat and not one ever got to first base." ----- Like I said, she's the ice queen."

Randall picked up his hat from the counter and started out the door. The nurse stuck her head out the door and whispered after him, "Don't feel too bad when you strike out. Her husband doesn't do any better."

Randall stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn't figured on a husband. He turned and looked back at the nurse, who leaned against the doorpost and smiled at him.

"Don't worry. She froze him out a long time ago, right along with everybody else. Look on the bright side. Maybe you've got something that she wants. Somebody has to."

Randall winked again and turned back down the hall, wondering what it was the tall one had asked him to come and see her about. As he walked past the elevator doors and turned down the corridor which led to the administration offices, he noticed that the whole place seemed almost deserted. He took his watch out of his pocket, where he had placed it while the nurse was working on his arm, and was a little surprised to note that it was after midnight. No wonder the halls were so empty.

The Administrator's office was the last one down the last hall, which was filled with locked doors, since the day staff had all gone home hours ago. When he reached the last door, the sign there announced that it was the office of Dr. Beverly Stiller, M.D., PhD.,J.D., and Hospital Administrator. Randall thought to himself that this lady had covered all the bases, including Doctor, Lawyer, and Indian Chief. He took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock upon the smooth surface of the door.

As his knuckles touched the dark wood, the door swung slightly ajar. Randall pushed the door open and looked inside. The office was austere, in a manner that suited the tall administrator. There was a huge desk with a polished surface which was strewn with very neatly stacked documents. The walls were a dark plumb color and were accented with photographs of the hospital building, taken through the passing years, and diplomas of all shapes and sizes. There was a long leather couch and a leather chair with a matching foot stool in the center of the room, and a complicated looking weight machine for intense workouts in the corner.

Randall knocked again on the open door but got no response. The sounds of water running came from behind a closed door which he could only assume was the bathroom.

"Hello. --- Dr. Stiller."

The water shut off in the bathroom and the stern voice of the tall one came from behind the oak door.

"Put the reports on the left corner of my desk and shut the door on your way out."

Randall looked to see a short stack of reports already on the left corner of the desk. The expected delivery boy had already come and gone. All that seemed left to do was shut the door. As he swung the huge oak panel closed, the click of the lock told him that this office was equipped with strong hardware that locked automatically unless set to do otherwise. Once closed off, the rooms were completely secure, with thick walls surrounded by heavy masonry on the outside and no windows at all. The place was probably even soundproof.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened and the tall one stepped in. She carried the bloodstained business suit, which she had been wearing in the emergency room. She crossed the floor and hung it on the chromed crossbar of the weight machine in the corner. She was wearing a white terry cloth robe which was tied tightly around her waist, accentuating the heavenly swell of her breasts in a new and enchanting way. Her dark hair was no longer in the austere bun, but flowed down her back like a heavy, dark waterfall, reaching almost to her bottom and enhancing the picture of her beauty by its gentle movements. She was barefoot and stood on tiptoe to reach the top rail of the weight machine. Randall was surprised at how small and delicately formed her bare feet were as she dug her toes into the carpet, stretching to drape the arms of her dripping suit out to dry.

"Dr. Stiller."

Randall's voice cut the silence and caused the tall on to start and then spin to face him. Her eyes were ablaze and there was no hint of retreat in her manner. On the contrary, she squared herself to what she thought might be a danger and held herself in readiness to react in kind.

"It's alright, Ma'am. It's Sergeant Randall. ---- You asked me to come see you."

The dark brown eyes of the tall one seemed searching for a moment, then recognition became evident in the dusky pupils and her body seemed to relax from attack mode. Her distant and haughty air returned once more, as she turned back toward the bloodstained suit and examined it. The action placed her back to Randall. A move he was certain she did on purpose.

"How did you get in here, Sergeant Randall?"

"The door was open when I got here and you didn't seem to hear my knock. What was it you wanted to see me about?"

She looked at him over her shoulder, letting her eyes drop to the .45 pistol on his hip and wander to the still bloodstained handcuffs in the leather case at his waist. Her nostrils flared slightly and Randall could detect a rise of her ample bosom as her breathing changed and she turned to walk barefoot across the soft carpet and stand by her desk, pretending to go over the reports there.

"Would you like a drink, a beer perhaps?"

Her eyes never left the papers on the desk top, but Randall felt her attention riveted on him in a way that made him tingle all over, as he did when a stake out was about to come to fruition.

"I might take a beer, if you'll join me."

Randall watched as she shifted through some of the papers in the stack. He was amazed to discover that her hands were as tiny and delicately formed as her little bare feet. It was something he had not expected with someone so tall and amazingly endowed. The more he saw of this woman the more he wanted her.

She turned to the credenza behind the huge desk and bent to open a small refrigerator, nestled there among the files and drawers. She took out a longneck bottle of beer and set it on the desk before Randall, bringing out a cold bottle of spring water for herself. Randall reached for the beer and twisted the cap, watching her every movement as she placed a coaster in front of him. She twisted open the water bottle, taking a generous sip. The water moistened her lips and caused them to glisten in the subtle office lighting.

"You not having a beer?"

The question was serious, but Randall asked it partially so he could observe her response. It was a policeman's habit. She placed her lips to the water bottle once again and regarded him with cold scrutiny.

"I rarely drink alcohol."

"Don't like the taste?"

"I don't like the loss of control."

Randall took a sip from the cold, amber bottle and allowed his curiosity to show in his voice.

"Do you lose control?"

"Never."

Randall reacted with interest as she slid her sculpted bottom onto the smooth surface of the desk, sitting on a corner of the polished surface and beginning to swing one bare foot slightly, as if irritated by the question.

"Medicine is still principally a man's world, Mr. Randall."

"Bic."

"What?"

"My name's Bic. --- And yours would be ..."

She looked steadily into his eyes without a hint of waver.

"Dr. Stiller."

Randall thumbed back the Stetson onto the back of his head and said, "Oh. I see."

"No. I don't think you do."

She reached up and took his hat from his head and walked around behind the desk to place it on a shelf.

"There are many female Doctors in the world, today. Many of them are respected in their field, but when it comes to being the boss in a doctor's world, it either takes a penis or an iron will and rock solid control at all times. ----- Please, Sit down, but take that off first. I don't need you marking up my new couch."

Randall looked down to see her pointing at the gun belt around his waist. Her eyes seemed riveted on the cold steel and she walked around the desk and opened her tiny hand in a commanding gesture that Randall simply could not resist. He unbuckled the belt and placed the heavy leather in her small hands. He strode to the center of the room, plopping down into the comfortable leather cushions and he watched as the lovely Doctor placed his equipment gingerly on the surface of the desk and allowed her fingertips to play gently across the cold steel of first his weapon, and then his handcuffs.

"Being in such complete control all the time must be pretty difficult. I'm not sure anyone can do that without a break now and then."

Randall's question was pointedly accurate, and he knew it, but her attention seemed riveted on the blood spattered steel of the handcuffs. She opened the case and slid them out, caressing them in her fingers as if they were a rare treasure.

"It's a way of life, Mr. Randall. Surely you, of all people know what it feels like to be in complete control."

She reached across the desk to the box of sanitary wipes which stood near a box of surgical rubber gloves, and took one of the small wet towels. She began gently cleaning the steel manacles until the metal shone in the subtle light of the office. Her eyes glowed with a new fire, something different and completely fetching, as she traced her steps to the center of the room to stand before Randall, who was completely mesmerized by the glow of her beauty.

"Haven't you had to use these to completely restrain a prisoner, forcing him to give up any pretense of his own will, binding him until he is completely subjected to your desire, your commands. ---- Helpless, with no excuse, with no possible way to reject what is happening, only accepting what you wish to do to him."

Randall stared at her with a growing hunger as her tiny fingers caressed the cold steel of the handcuffs and the banked fires in her eyes glowed with the strength of pure fascination."Is that what helpless is to you," he asked as she stepped closer to where he sat on the leather cushions of the couch.

"Yes. It is, but it's more than that. To be completely helpless, to be unable to resist in any way, so that no one can blame you for what happens, for what you become, for what you want, ------"

Randall stood suddenly and grasped her slim wrist, wresting the handcuffs from her and snapping them securely onto her arm. Her dark eyes grew wide and she drew back, trying desperately to pull away. "Helpless like this," Randall asked, as she twisted and tried to pull her handcuffed wrist from his grasp.

"No! No! What do you think you're doing?" she screamed as she fought violently to pull away. Randall jerked her in tight against his chest, feeling the firm softness of her immense breasts spread against him. The touch of her caused a definite swelling between his legs and made him determined to conquer this delightful vision.

"I thought you wanted to be helpless?"

At this statement, the tall one pushed herself back from his chest and looked at the steel encircling her wrist. She sneered at him and spat out a retort.

"This is not helpless."

With that she curled her free hand into a tiny fist and swung hard at Randall's jaw. The Ranger turned his head and took the blow on the side of his face, then twisted the chain of the handcuff which was in his right hand, causing the spitting and swearing Doctor to her knees, in pain. "Not helpless, huh," he asked, as she glared up at him from her kneeling position on the carpet. "No," was her sharp retort, and she grabbed his leg and sunk her teeth into the flesh of his thigh. Randall grimaced and reached down to jerk her to her feet and drag her across the carpet to the weight machine in the corner, where he clicked the open end of the handcuffs to the top rail of the heavy machine. The rail was high enough that the lovely Doctor was forced to stand on her bare toes in the carpet.