Dying Wish

"Despite all of this Edgar completed Timothy's treatment, away from the hospital, and my son no longer shows any of the signs that he had when he was given just months to live and no chance of a cure. I believe he has been totally cured. This hospital had the opportunity to be part of a miracle and instead chose to resort to petty bureaucratic harassment. We will be following the developments closely and keeping you updated."

Anton resumed the show after a commercial break in which Andrew and I went backstage.

We were both very pleased with how the show had gone, and we chatted quietly about how we expected things to develop until the show was over and Anton came into the waiting room.

"If this is a hoax I am taking both of you down," Anton growled.

"You're welcome," Andrew replied with a grin, and Anton stomped out. It was just more proof that even though the claims were out there, it would take a lot of evidence, and a lot of time, before people started actually believing it.

I began the treatments the following day, and with the increase of treatments I suddenly needed to have sex with a much greater frequency. Lozza was fantastic, and she was a regular and enthusiastic participant but she also organised a group that came to be known as 'Edgar's Angels'. They were mainly nurses, but also a few of her friends who made themselves available and who were rostered on as my sex partners. They were all very attractive and quite experienced sexually. I learned so much in that period of time, and I set myself a goal of becoming a skilful and considerate lover. With the help of my angels I was well on the way within days.

Mum, Sally and Lozza all had their reviews postponed, and they were all left on suspension for another week, but on full pay, and the account the hospital had given me was quietly withdrawn. Due entirely to the Coverup story the hospital was pulling back slightly, but they were still carefully covering their bets until further proof was obtained.

On the Tuesday my mother's results came back, and they were exactly what I had predicted. My father went ballistic, and he blamed me for causing her cancer. He then announced that I was not allowed to go anywhere near her with what he called my 'cancer con act', and said that if I did he would kick me out of home. Apparently he was copping a lot of ribbing at work after my television appearance, and the general opinion was that the show was rigged to get ratings and there was no possible chance that my gift was real.

I have to admit it, I was getting pretty down by then, and I was wondering if all of this was really worth it. On the plus side over that Tuesday I had cured one man's quite severe lung cancer in three treatments, and had got about half way through another man's testicular cancer. Yes, I had actually faced the reality of my situation, and that was that if I wanted to cure cancer then I needed to touch the red spot to cure it. Yes, I had actually made contact with another man's balls. I was totally grossed out and worse yet, I was due to do it again the next morning. It was, however, very satisfying to me to see the reduction in the red spot, and I took some comfort from that. Of course, even though I knew I had been successful there was no medical proof of that yet, because the test results were still pending.

On Wednesday morning Andrew got in touch with me and said we urgently needed to talk. So we squeezed in half an hour between me touching some guy's balls and a very embarrassed young mother's breast.

The discussion was going to entirely change the course of my work, and of my life.

David Donald Darinsky (widely known as Triple D) was by far the richest man in the state, and he was a billionaire many times over from his self-made international property development business. He was also a notorious playboy, and he was never seen without five or six stunningly attractive women hanging off him.

Andrew sat me down and explained that Triple D had contacted the show with a very serious proposition. He had been diagnosed with prostate cancer quite some time ago, and he had now reached the point where if he didn't have his prostate removed immediately the cancer would be untreatable. Having the prostate removed almost always has the negative side effect of totally stopping a man from getting an erection ever again. So, according to the best doctors that money could buy, Triple D would either have to give up his bimbos or his life.

Then he was told about my Coverup appearance by one of his aides, and he developed a proposal.

Triple D wanted to be my first 'commercial' patient, but it had to be immediately, as in the same day. He was offering an extremely substantial payment as well. He owned a recently completed upmarket aged care facility in a highly desirable seaside suburb, which was currently on the market for fifty million dollars. It was state of the art with high care, low care and detached assisted residential living areas. It had a very well equipped commercial kitchen, various recreation areas including a movie theatre, library, gym, sports room and an Olympic sized swimming pool. If I could cure his cancer that day he would give me the entire facility and another twenty million to cover the costs of establishing it as my base of operations.

It went totally against my politics, and my attempt to make my work primarily for the good of the people who couldn't afford to pay for treatment, but it exactly matched my business plan and of course I accepted the offer without any significant hesitation.

I did the first treatment on the young woman's breast cancer in the mid-morning slot, and delayed the second and final one for Thursday at the same time.

Triple D had booked a suite in the best hotel in town, and I went there to meet him after rest, sex and lunch. His first words to me were,

"Kid, is this real or is this all just bullshit?"

"It's real Sir," I stammered.

"If it isn't I will destroy you."

"I understand, but it is real," I said with conviction. He stared at me for a moment, and then nodded.

"Tell me how it works," he said in a much friendlier tone.

"I see your cancer as red dot," I explained, "and I just have to touch the red dot and the cancer is reduced. It usually takes two to three treatments to get rid of it totally, but that depends on how bad it is."

"Through clothes or bare skin?" he asked.

"I'm afraid it has to be bare skin," I explained, "I don't feel real comfortable about that myself Sir, but that is how I get the result."

"There was something about you only being able to do four treatments a day, what is that shit?" he asked, but there was a twinkle in his eye as if he was being abrupt now just to maintain his image.

"After a full treatment I pass out and I usually sleep for an hour or so," I explained, "and then I need to, er, recharge, to be able to do another treatment." I knew he was going to ask, but I didn't want to just blurt it out.

"Recharge, what the fuck does that mean?" He shot back, and I grinned ruefully.

"Exactly that Sir, I need to er... fuck." He stared at me for what felt like half an hour and I just held his gaze.

"How long does a treatment last?" He asked.

"Usually only five or ten minutes before I pass out," I replied. He stared at me again, and then he laughed.

"You lucky little prick," he said between guffaws, "you get paid to fuck four times a day, you get to sleep a lot and you only actually work for between twenty and forty minutes over the entire day. That has got to be the best fucking job in the world." I grinned.

"It does have its good points," I admitted, and he just laughed more.

"How many treatments will I need?" he asked.

"Probably two, but worst case three I expect," I answered.

"So how will you recharge in between if you do two treatments today?" he asked.

"I will need a bed for recovery, and then I will call one of my angels to come and, er, assist."

"Angels?"

"I have a group of ladies who er... all look after my needs as required," I explained, "They are sort of known as Edgar's Angels."

Triple D looked impressed, and then he grinned, turned and shouted.

"Cecilia, come in here," he called, and one of the doors in the suite opened and a walking wet dream sauntered out. The best description of Cecelia that I can give you is this was Jessica Rabbit in the flesh. Long flowing red hair that cascaded in front of one eye, pouty red lips, a clinging long sparkling red dress that barely covered her incredibly large bust, and which was slit right up one side exposing a spectacular leg, the full length mauve gloves and some tall red stilettos. It all combined to make Cecilia totally stunning. I was half hard after just watching her walk in, but I stood up anyway.

"Yes sweetie," she purred to Triple D, and he grinned proudly.

"This is Edgar," he said, and Cecelia locked her one visible sparkling half closed green eye on me.

"Well, helooo Edgar", she cooed, and suddenly I was fully hard. Triple D noticed of course.

"I think he likes you," he said.

"Um... pleased to meet you," I croaked, and Cecilia just grinned.

"I can tell," she said, staring hungrily at the bulge in my pants.

"Will Cecilia be a suitable angel for today?" Triple D asked, and I almost melted.

Twenty minutes later both Triple D and I were in the second bedroom in the suite, and he was naked from the waist down and was in a position where I could touch his prostate. The only positive thing I can say about that experience is that I was able to treat it externally. Enough said.

When I woke up on the bed I looked up to one languid green eye, and a gleaming curtain of red hair.

"Oh goody," Cecelia purred, "you're awake. Can we fuck now?"

Suddenly I was ready.

As soon as I smiled Cecelia peeled off that clinging dress to expose her perfect naked body. Everything about her was just right. She had those stunning huge breasts, which were not only natural, but which also seemed to defy gravity, pointing her hard nipples slightly upwards. She had a beautiful pussy with a small tuft of matching red hair above pouty bare and glistening lips. She was perfectly toned, with a flat stomach and no fat anywhere, but she was also not overly muscular. Her ass was to die for, with a sensational feminine rounded shape.

But it wasn't just the physical aspects of Cecelia that was good. She had just the best attitude and made it easy for me to believe that at that moment there was nothing in the world that she would rather be doing than having sex, and there was nobody in the world who she would rather be having sex with.

And skills? She was amazing. She kissed me passionately, while gently touching and stroking me all over before she took my full and very erect length into her mouth. In one easy move she swallowed me right down to my balls engulfing my hard shaft in her gloriously warm and wet mouth.

Her tongue was active, her hands were active, her whole body just seemed to be dedicated to giving me pleasure. When she moved above me, preparing to impale herself on my erection it took all of my control to protest.

"Condom?" I gasped, and she just grinned and pointed. I had one on. I had no idea when she did that, I never saw or felt anything. I smiled and she slowly lowered herself onto me, moaning seductively as she did.

It would be totally impossible for me to describe the experience of having sex with Cecelia, It was just amazing. Let it suffice for me to say that less than ten minutes into the experience I was hoping that Triple D would need three treatments. Or four. How about five?

It was amazing. I know I have already said that, but it really needed saying twice. Or three times... or...

I felt that I finished way too soon, I would have liked to have taken hours not minutes, but she was just too good at getting everything exactly right and I had no hope. After we were done Cecelia smiled, thanked me and then she cleaned up and went out. I got dressed, and soon after that Triple D came in and he cocked an eyebrow.

"Wow," I said in answer to his unasked question.

"I Know," he replied, and then he really smiled.

"Doc says the prostate is half the size it was," he said, and I nodded.

"I think I got about sixty percent," I said.

"So just one more treatment?" he asked eagerly, and I looked at the door through which Cecelia had gone earlier.

"Sadly, I think so," I said, and he grinned again.

"I know exactly what you mean."

I did the second treatment, and I got the lot without passing out, but I was very weak, so I rested for a while anyway. Then Cecelia came in and this time we took it slow, and heaven lasted for just over two hours. Amazing, amazing, amazing, amazing, amazing...

This time it was me who walked out of the room when we were done, and I found Triple D at his desk in the main room.

"You did it," he said with a huge grin.

"Yes," I agreed. I knew that.

"Biopsy came back negative, blood tests are clear, it's all good," he said.

"Wow," I responded, "how did you get that all done so quickly?"

"No point in having money if you don't use it son, and speaking of which, here you go."

The Coverup lawyer was summoned from another room and under his watchful eye I signed countless legal documents. Then Triple D transferred the title of the aged care facility to me and he gave me a cheque for twenty million dollars. TWENTY MILLION DOLLARS!! I was stunned; it hadn't seemed real until then.

"Son, you just got paid in excess of four and a half million dollars per minute," Triple D said, "and for me it was worth every damn cent."

"And I got to... er... be with Cecilia twice as well," I stammered.

"That's right, and on that topic I came up with a bit of a bonus for you too." Triple D said with a grin, "For as long as I keep up my collection of lady friends I am going to send one to you for a day each week, as a temporary angel. Will that help?" It was my turn to grin.

"Definitely," I replied, and then my conscience kicked in.

"But it has to be voluntary," I insisted. I had serious issues with using sex workers, and I had no idea of what the arrangements were between Triple D and his ladies.

"Why?" Triple D asked, and I explained that my concerns were all about making sure my gift didn't force any girls into any form of prostitution.

Triple D grinned.

"You know kid," he said with a smile, "with my girls I don't think that is a risk any more. But even though our beliefs are about as far apart as they could be, I really do admire how you stick to what you believe. Voluntary it is."

Then we shook hands and then I left.

I had expected that the prime number one example of a capitalist would be a total prick, but instead I had found a man who I could really like. It was awfully confusing.

By the end of that day I had turned a massive corner. Triple D did a cameo on Coverup that night, and he raved about how fantastic my work was and how it really did work. Also the official results were back for the man with lung cancer, and that too was shown to be totally gone. Suddenly people were beginning to understand that my incredible claim was actually true.

But with belief came the crackpots. Fortunately for me Coverup was dealing with them as most people didn't know how to contact me. In the beginning there were only a few. There were people who claimed they had the gift too, and they should be working with me in my brand new facility, which came to be known as the 'Edgar Clinic', or just EC which I thought should really stand for 'Eradicate Cancer'. There were some who claimed that, for the right price, they would be able to teach me to cure more, and even a religious group who claimed that God had given me this gift, and God had given them the rights to employ it as they saw fit. There were a lot of women, and a few men, who decided I was their soul mate and that we would fall madly in love as soon as we met. And as time went past there more and more of these, with even weirder and more elaborate cons and schemes aimed at separating me from my money or sharing my fame.

At one point even the government wanted to get involved, and started talking about medical licencing and the required level of qualifications. I just sent back a message saying that I would be happy to relocate to a country with lower tax rates that may appreciate more what I was doing, and they went quiet.

But the hasty and lucrative deal with Triple D had taught me a huge lesson in pragmatism. I found it easy to rationalise because I was able to utilise the benefits I received from letting a rich person 'jump the queue' as it were, to benefit the more downtrodden and less fortunate. I was no modern day Robin Hood, but I did in effect, take from the rich and give to the poor.

By the end of the week I had the EC up and running. Lozza was one of my first employees, and she was responsible for organising the roster of angels. That task alone was loaded with dangerous moral, legal and ethical issues and it had to be handled carefully. Because prostitution is legal in Victoria we knew we were able to use licenced sex workers if there was a necessity to do so, but my rule was that this was to be a last resort only. Fortunately we have never had to use that option so far. Now I should point out that I don't have anything against sex workers, they are people trying to earn a living just like everyone else, but the decision not to employ them largely came down to economics.

Most of our income for the week is generated on a single day, and it has always been a very significant amount. From that income we need to cover the running costs of the EC, the wages bill, including my modest wages allowance and the costs of transporting patients to and from our facility. Any income that is left over goes straight into funding of research on treatments for cancer. Within twelve months the EC was contributing into cancer research at about the same level as all of the combined state and federal governments. We try to cut any unnecessary cost overheads to ensure this donation figure is as high as it can be, and that means the roster of angels should be on a voluntary basis only, wherever possible.

We also have a complete ban on any of the angels getting preferential treatment for themselves or their families. This was very hard call to make, but in the end we do not want to force a girl into the situation where having sex with me is the best, or even only, option to cure a loved one. In my mind that situation could force women into a form of prostitution, and I will not tolerate that.

We do have another source of income, and that is donations made to us. We have a strict rule that the EC does not accept any donations from the no charge patients who I have cured, or from their immediate families, but we will recommend some really good research plans that could do with some extra funds. (Are there any that couldn't?) Once again this is to ensure that the poor who I cure do not feel morally obligated to pay in any way for their treatments. My suggestion to them is to use their health to go out and do some good in the world. In a way I am trying to create a legacy by using my gift to 'pay it forward' and to make sure that what I am doing now continues to benefit people long after I am gone.

I had to make the stipulation that we only refuse donations from no charge patients because Triple D came in recently and gave me a donation cheque for one million dollars. He said he will do this every year. I asked him how he rationalised the fact that this money would be going to charity and he grinned that semi evil smile that we often see on him in the media.

"You're not just saving communists son, you are saving capitalists too," he replied, and I knew he was right.