Mrs. O'Malley's Golden Juices Ch. 16

Susan O'Malley grimly watched the nurse work, wincing in pain as he lathered her entire lower arm with plaster.

"Dammit, how the hell could I have been so clumsy?" she growled, sitting in an ill-fitting johnny on a gurney at the hospital where she'd been taken hours earlier.

"It happens, ma'am," the young nurse said, trying to help. "We see these injuries a lot this time of year, and in summer with kids mostly, skateboarding accidents."

"Well, I'm no kid, kid," Susan said glumly. "And damn old enough to know better."

"It's too late to say this, but you really have to make sure your steps are clear, or at least salted and sanded," the young man said, finishing up his work, looking at Susan's arms swaddled in the light pink casts, a color choice she was offered. "Personally, I always check on my grandparents this time of year, gotta keep an eye on..."

He stopped, realizing what he was saying and the age of the woman he was saying it to. Susan looked at him with a slight sneer on her pretty face.

"Go on, say it," she sighed. "Old people, right? Kid, how old are your grandparents?"

"Uh, you know, grandparent ages," he said awkwardly. "I dunno, 60 something I guess..."

"I'm 65...Walter," she said, leaning forward to squint at his name tag and then sitting back on the gurney. "Forget it, I know you didn't mean anything by it. Just doing your job."

"No problem, Mrs. O'Malley," he said, gathering his stuff. "Dr. Evans will be back in a few minutes to check you out, probably give you a painkiller prescription and guidelines and stuff."

She sat, hands on her thighs, feet dangling below, looking down at them in those ugly, ineffectual hospital socks.

"Crap," she said. "I gotta pee..."

She looked at her fingers, which were mercifully exposed in the cast. She wiggled them - and yelped in pain.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" she cried.

"Is everything all right?"

Dr. Evans walked in, another young member of the ER staff, making Susan feel older still. She shook her head.

"Sorry, I was just thinking I had to pee, and I wiggled my fingers to see how that would work our to...well, you know," she said. "And it hurt, so I just kinda swore...sorry about that."

Dr. Evans smiled.

"Not the first time I heard a patient in pain cuss, won't be the last," he said.

"I can't believe I did that, just slipped on the ice and fell like that, on my hands," she grumbled, looking at her casts.

"Could've been worse, Mrs. O'Malley, at least you didn't land so you hit your head," he said. "And you didn't hit your backside very hard, a broken tailbone is something that hurts quite a bit as well."

"Yeah, thank God for small favors, I guess," she growled, wincing again as she moved her fingers.

"Now, about that pain: You do have use of your fingers, as you can see, but as you just found out, you have somewhat limited mobility, and when you do move them, it hurts," he said.

"No shit," she thought to herself, annoyed by his literalness.

He scribbled on a pad and tore it off, looking around for Susan's purse and putting it inside.

"This is for Percocet, a pretty powerful painkiller, so use it sparingly, but don't be afraid of it for the first few days when you need it most" he said. "You'll be able to get more use out of your fingers in a few days or a week. And those casts will be on four to six weeks."

"Shit," she snarled. "But how...I mean, I really have to pee, and when I go to the bathroom..."

"Well, you'll need help, it's that simple," he said. "Do you have any friends or relatives nearby who wouldn't mind helping you?"

She smiled - inwardly. She thought of all the victims of her sexual slavery, which always made her smile.

Susan was a piss freak, plain and simple, enjoying nothing more than enslaving men and/or women, preferably young and meek and willing, with her deliciously deviant ways, forcing them to drink her golden juices and more. Force was only necessary for a little while for they would soon enjoy her dominant ways and be eager for more.

And if they weren't, that made dominating them all the more rewarding.

"Yeah, I guess there are some who wouldn't be averse to you know, wiping me," she said with a slight laugh.

"Or you could hire a personal care assistant," Dr. Evans said. "You have good insurance, it probably would be covered."

Susan's mood lightened.

"Really?" she asked. "You mean someone who would come in when I needed them?"

"Yes, but for the first week or so, I'd recommend someone living with you," he said. "You never know when you need to use the bathroom, so having someone there all the time is helpful. And, of course, to help you make meals, clean up, give you baths..."

"Baths?" Susan said, clearly liking this idea, wondering just what kind of assistant she could get and how she'd love a young one to bend to her will. "Oh my..."

"Now, now, don't be embarrassed, it's what they do, they're trained for it," Dr. Evans said soothingly. "After a week or so, your finger movement won't cause you pain and you'll be able to fend for yourself quite nicely."

"Hmm," she said. "I guess that could work. Where do I find them?"

"Here's a list of ones in our area," he said, plucking a paper out of a sheaf of them in Susan's files and putting it in her bag. "Now, we have an area here just for this, you can go to that office, they'll check them out online for you, you find one who is immediately available and you're good to go."

She smiled.

"I can't thank you enough, Doc," she said, holding her hands up and smiling. "I'd shake your hand, but..."

It was that easy. After she peed, of course, availing the wiping services of a helpful female nurse who dabbed her hairy pussy dry after escorting her to a ladies room. Susan smiled watching the friendly, chubby little nurse's hand work between her shapely old thighs as she sat on the toilet.

"That's very nice of you," Susan said, perhaps a little too affectionately, making the nurse blush.

"Quite all right, ma'am, that's why we're here," the nurse said nervously.

The process went smoothly, after Susan got dressed and was taken to the office to pick an assistant. The woman in charge, Charlene, showed her some sites, what was offered, and rosters of who was available - which included photos. One in particular appealed to Susan: It was a young woman with a bright smile, huge green eyes, and short-cropped red hair.

"She looks like a dyke," she mused to herself. "One can only hope..."

The call was made and the girl, Rebecca, was available, and immediately.

"Would you like to talk to her?" Charlene asked. "Sometimes it helps to make voice contact first, feel each other out and see if it's a good fit."

"Yes, feeling each other out is important," Susan said, stifling a giggle. "So's a good fit."

The girl was called, and Charlene made introduction before offering the phone to Susan. She looked at her with a cocked head, then lifted her hands in the air.

"Really Charlene?" she said sarcastically.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Charlene said, holding it up to Susan's ear.

"Rebecca, hello, this is Mrs. O'Malley," Susan said.

"Mrs. O'Malley, I'm so sorry to hear about your accident, and I'll do whatever I can to make your recovery, at least for the first week, a little easier."

Susan liked the voice. It was light and bright, silky and warm. It matched her photo, it seemed.

"Yes, that would be lovely," Susan said. "I have a nice spare room for you, and after the first week...well, what happens then?"

"Then I can come by whenever you need it, once or twice or more a day, to help with food, cleaning, bathing of course..."

"Of course," Susan said, thinking about this delicious young waif sponging her body, cleaning her pussy and ass, and having to shake the thoughts away to continue. "That sounds perfect. Can you start now, this afternoon?"

"Yes, of course, I just finished up one case, and am actually free this entire coming week," Rebecca said. "I'm all yours, Mrs. O'Malley!"

"Yes, yes you are," Susan laughed despite the mounting pain in her broken wrists. "All mine!"

Plans were made, papers signed, somewhat painfully, and arrangements made to get Susan home. Rebecca would come get her, which was perfect since she could bring her to the pharmacy to get her painkillers.

Susan waited in a wheelchair in front of the hospital, accompanied by a nurse, sitting in the waning warming rays of the summer sun. A car pulled up and out stepped the loveliest of possibilities.

Rebecca was gorgeous, a sturdy-looking young woman of 24, according to her bio at the site. Susan mentally calculated the age difference at a very sexy 41 years. Her pussy immediately tingled despite the pain in her arms.

She was of average height, appearing to be five-foot-six or so, wearing a fitting light-blue sleeveless top and tight jeans with sneakers, her countenance athletic and assured as she bounded up to Susan in the chair, beaming brightly, that smile irradiant, those big green eyes flashing.

"Mrs. O'Malley?" she said, squatting by the chair to ever-so-gently place her hands on Susan's.

"Yes, child, it is me," Susan said with a lilting laugh, drinking in the sight of this beautiful young thing who would live with her for the next several days.

The wheels spun in her head, clouded a bit by the throbbing in her wrists. Rebecca got her into her car and they drove off.

"Drug store first," Susan said. "I gotta get something to cut this pain."

"Of course, Mrs. O'Malley, of course," Rebecca said.

Susan watched her as they chatted, mostly about Rebecca, Susan's questions pleasing her, questions about her training, schooling before that, her life in general, easy and breezy, setting the tone of familiarity. She looked at the young woman's legs encased in tight denim, fantasizing about how smooth and strong they must be.

They got the Percocet and Rebecca immediately took one out as they sat in the parking lot, cracking open a bottle of water. Susan downed it appreciatively, waiting for the warm relief to spread. It didn't take long, and by the time they got to Susan's house, the pill had dutifully numbed the throbbing in her wrists.

Rebecca settled Susan on the couch, and stowed her bag in the room down the hall, the one adjacent to Susan's bedroom. Susan liked her attitude, watching her bounce around the house, getting used to the lay of the land. Moments later, she returned to the living room and sat next to her on the couch as the news played on TV.

"Now, how are we feeling?" she asked earnestly.

"Feeling good, Rebecca, quite good," Susan said, meaning it in ways more than pharmacological.

"Hungry, Mrs. O'Malley?" Rebecca asked. "I'm quite a good cook, I can have a look at what you have and whip something up?"

"Certainly, I could use a bite," Susan said. "Let's make it easy on ourselves, some pasta maybe, there are jars of sauce and pasta in the cupboard."

"Not a problem, I love pasta," Rebecca said, pushing off the couch and standing before Susan, that athletic young body silhouetted by the TV screen. "I'll do that right now."

"Oh, but first," Susan said, relishing the thought of what was to come, "I have to pee. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, of course not, that's my job, Mrs. O'Malley, let's go!"

She gently escorted Susan to the bathroom, positioning her near the toilet and kneeling to unsnap her pants and gently shuck them down her legs.

Susan hoped the young girl wouldn't notice how her hairy pussy instantly moistened at the sight and thought of her kneeling before her. And at the same time, she hoped it would.

"Down you go!" Rebecca said brightly, pulling down Susan's panties and turning her head, standing to guide Susan to the seat.

"Why thank you, my dear," Susan cooed.

The piss flowed hotly from her, her clit tingling, her pussy alive and wet and dripping with juices other than urinary as the flow blasted into the bowl and water below. Susan watched Rebecca, who turned away politely, standing at the sink. Her ass was spectacular, Susan noted with pleasure, firmly pressed against her tight jeans, perfectly round, muscular seeming, tight and shapely. She finished her piss and coughed. Rebecca turned back, smiling.

"All set?"

"You bet," Susan smiled.

Rebecca tore off some toilet paper and had Susan stand up, again kneeling before her and noticing for the first time the hirsuteness of her new client's vagina. She'd seen her share in her young career as a personal care assistant, but none quite as alluring as this one.

"Keep it together, girl," she thought to herself. "Business is business."

She dabbed Susan's glistening fur with the toilet paper, then dug gently inside to wipe clean her lips. Susan looked down at her hand between her thighs, shivering and letting out a slight, imperceptible moan.

At least she thought it was.

"What?" Rebecca asked. "Are you OK, did I hurt you?"

"No, no, of course not," Susan said softly, thinking quite the opposite was true. "It's just that..."

"Yes, yes, having someone else wipe you is different, I know, I know," Rebecca said soothingly, finishing her work, trying to ignore the pungent smell of pee and pussy inches from her face.

"Oh, I don't mind," Susan said with a hint of seduction in the saying. "If you don't."

Rebecca looked up to the smiling, incredibly sexy older blonde looking down at her.

Rebecca was a lesbian, and had her share of encounters in her young life, a girlfriend of note here and there, nothing lasting. Each was satisfying in its own way. But each had been with a woman her own age. Thoughts inappropriate and unprofessional flashed through her mind about this most attractive senior citizen that she had to force away.

She took too long to answer, she knew, as she finally smiled, and slowly pulled up Susan's panties and pants, snapping them closed.

"No, no, of course not, this is what I do, Mrs. O'Malley," she said, hoping her nerves weren't showing.

She looked into Mrs. O'Malley's face. The old woman's smile was warm and reassuring and more, she sensed. Susan sensed it, too, and let the silence linger for a moment longer than it should have. This part of her seduction process was one of her favorites, the reeling-them-in-slowly part, and it was firmly underway. She felt her pussy tremble from the cat-and-mouse quality of it all.

"Yes, and it's what you do so VERY well, my child, very, very well," she smiled with just the right amount of purposeful emphasis. "Oh, don't forget to flush!"

"No, no, of course not," Rebecca said nervously, her tension pleasing Susan no end as the girl reached behind her to flush, looking inside at the golden juices swirling away.

Dinner was easy and quick and the two of them sat at the kitchen table. The Percocet was numbing Susan enough to eat on her own, but it was clumsy, so Rebecca dutifully forked the past to her mouth, wiping her lips with a napkin in between bites of her own meal.

"I really could use a glass of wine, be a dear, would you and by all means, help yourself," Susan said.

"Oh, Mrs. O'Malley, drinking while on a narcotic like that isn't good," Rebecca said with professional tone.

"Nonsense, I only want one glass, for heaven's sake, and I'm not going to be operating heavy machinery, as they always warn you about," she laughed. "Now. My wine, Rebecca."

There it was, that tension again, created by a command, not a question. They both felt it, Rebecca nervously, Susan happily, emboldened perhaps by the numbing warmth of the painkiller. It was the give and take, dominance and submission game Susan loved playing. And winning.

And as Rebecca shrugged and went to the 'fridge, Susan knew winning was on her side. As always.

"What about you?" Susan asked as Rebecca returned with a glass brimming with chardonnay.

"No, I can't, I'm working, it's against the rules," Rebecca said, sitting down.

Susan put her hands on hers, her fingers sticking out of the cast and resting on Rebecca's. She leaned over to her, smiling.

"I won't tell a soul," she whispered. "Promise."

"Well," Rebecca said, averting her gaze from Susan's that threatened to overcome her. "I guess just one..."

One led to two, and much easier conversation as Rebecca cleaned up while Susan sat at the table, watching, devouring the sight of that beautiful ass. Dishes done, the girl returned to sit and talk and reveal more of herself than she realized.

Susan noted the glaring lack of boyfriends in the story of Rebecca's life, and how she talked about girls more than boys, and of her experience in college and high school as an athlete, and being a standout in soccer, lacrosse and track.

"I figured as much, Rebecca, you have a darling figure, really strong, muscular," Susan said with that purposeful over-touch of enthusiasm as she looked into the green eyes of her assistant. "You take care of yourself, and it shows. Really. Quite nicely."

"Oh, thanks, I do, I do," Rebecca said blushing. "And you...you're very...you have..."

"A nice body for an old broad?" Susan laughed, motioning to her wine glass for Rebecca to hold to her lips to swig the rest down, feeling the buzz, blissful and liquid.

"No, not old, Mrs. O'Malley, heavens, 65 isn't old anymore!" Rebecca said. "You're...well, you're gorgeous and very well...well, well built yourself!"

They both laughed, the laughter easing, morphing into awkwardness, at least on Rebecca's part. Susan let it fester a bit more, playing this string for all it was worth.

"Might I have one more pill before bedtime?" she asked.

"Are you in pain?"

"Yes, a little, and this is the first night and all, I just want to sleep," Susan said.

"Yes, of course," Rebecca answered. "Let's get you ready for bed first."

She helped Susan undress, fully, trying hard not to notice the delicious fleshiness of this sexy older woman, a woman of an age she never imagined having sex with and now being all she could think of. She let her professionalism seep back into her as she retrieved Susan's panties and nightgown from a drawer, turning to face her, trying not to let her gaze linger on those wonderfully saggy breasts, the slightly puffy belly, the superbly wrinkled and slightly sagging thighs, those long, freckled calves and shins and sexy old feet and toes. And that big bush.

"My feet are rather chilly," Susan said, after a long silence spent watching the girl dress her, feeling a slight but noticeable shaking of her hands as she did. "Get some socks, would you?"

Rebecca did, fishing out a pair of mid-calf wooly gray ones from a drawer. Susan sat on the bed, her short nightie riding high on those thighs Rebecca couldn't keep her eyes off as she knelt, pulling the socks on, noting as well the delicious wrinkles and veins of Susan's feet, the long, gnarly toes over which she pulled the socks. She tugged them up Susan's calves, looking at them, her fingers around them. The muscles were tight beneath the saggy flesh, making her fingers tremble.

She let them go rather reluctantly and stood, fishing out another pill for Susan to swallow down with a glass of water she'd brought to her beside table.

"Does your work include massaging?" Susan asked, a darker tone in her voice, putting down the glass.

"Yes, of course," Rebecca said. "Are you tense somewhere?"

Susan swung her feet up on the bed, wiggling her toes in her socks.

"Yes, here, so be a dear, and give me a foot rub," Susan said. "It will help me sleep."

"Certainly...Mrs. O'Malley..." Rebecca said with quavering voice.

"Oh, don't be nervous girl, I don't bite," Susan giggled as Rebecca sat at the end of the bed and started rubbing both of her feet through her socks. "At least my feet don't..."

She was good, her hands strong and sure, and Susan delighted in watching her work her tired old feet, Rebecca leaning to the task, her face inches from the objects of her massage. Susan felt that unmistakable tingle connecting her soles to her pussy, the way she always did when having her feet serviced.