Nights of Paralysis

"This could be awkward at the trial, couldn't it, Martin? You weren't just a normal passer-by. You were a former member of Special Forces..."

"Now I am able to talk, I'll have to tell the Police some of it. I hope I can keep it quiet. I have enough to worry about with potential assassins linked to London without my former enemies from Borneo."

"OK, Martin, I'll try to forget what you told me. But you will have to tell the Police otherwise the trial could be jeopardised."

"I know."

Doctor Mary called the nurses back in. They sat me up in bed and started to feed me the slop recommended for patients who are just starting to eat again. The way they did it was pleasant. I was lying back against Chloe's breasts as Marie straddled me while she spoon-fed me. Once I had finished Marie's pantied pussy lowered on to my erection, teasing me.

"What would you boyfriend think, Marie?" I asked.

"Him!" Marie snorted. "He's an ex-boyfriend. If he could be jealous of you with no reason, he would be jealous if we married. I've dumped him."

"You should have done that months ago," Chloe said.

"But now I have..." Marie produced a condom. "I want to..."

"I have no objection, Marie, if you are sure?"

"I'm sure. The monitors are off and Carol's not here. Even if she were, she'd probably join in."

"She wouldn't, Marie," Chloe said. "She's too senior. We might get told off if someone found out. She'd be fired. But she'll have Martin all to herself soon."

My face must have showed that I didn't follow the last statement.

"You don't know?" Chloe asked. "You will be discharged in a couple of days. You have to go somewhere where you can be looked after, and somewhere that is not previously connected to you. Carol has claimed you, and will be taking you to her flat. It is above a bank so the security is good. The Police are happy with that. Are you?"

I had to wait to answer. Marie had fitted the condom and had impaled herself on me. She was bouncing up and down so effectively that I came quickly.

Chloe asked again.

"Happy to be with Carol?"

"Yes, Chloe. I'm happy to be with you two, too."

Marie started bouncing again.

"Hang about, Marie," Chloe protested. "He can't be ready again so soon. Give him time."

"But I want..."

"Fuck what you want, Marie. We are supposed to be healers, not succubae draining him hollow. We need to treat him gently."

Marie stopped bouncing. She leant forward and stroked my cheeks gently before pushing my head further back between Chloe's breasts.

"That's an idea," Chloe said. She pulled back, unfastened the top of her uniform, unclasped her bra and raised it. She put my head back into her cleavage. Marie's hands squeezed Chloe's breasts around me. They were warm, soft and comfortable. Marie's lips met mine and I began to stir below.

Marie and Chloe tried to keep my head in place as Marie rode me again. Marie had to let go, but Chloe's hands took over, clamping her breasts again. I came into Marie again. Reluctantly she climbed off. She made a production of removing the condom and cleaning me up, but I was too exhausted to respond.

When they left they had covered me with a sheet, ending my enforced nakedness.

CAROL

Carol brought my evening meal. She fed me one-handed, holding me against a breast. When I had finished she asked:

"Did Marie and Chloe tell you what is to happen next?"

"Yes, Carol. But surely you can't..."

"I can. I rarely take all my holidays so I'm taking some days off when you are discharged into my care. You don't object, do you?"

"Of course I don't object."

"Good. Because while I'm on leave, I can fuck you, and not let others do the fucking. You have had more sexual encounters than most of our patients manage. And I've got help. Madeleine and Janis are going to relieve me as Martin-minders when I need to go shopping or something. I'm sure they'll find something to do to keep you amused..."

"...and you won't object?"

"Why should I? I've claimed you. I'll keep you. But they are your friends and they want part of you too. So do many others. You're still a hero and you'll be in the media again tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Why?"

Carol looked at her watch.

"I'll let the Chief Superintendent explain. He'll be here in five minutes. I'll just clean you up, and I'll see you again tomorrow when Doctor Mary will decide when you can come home with me."

Carol wiped around my face, tidied my pillows and smoothed the sheet now covering my nakedness. She bent over to kiss me.

"See you tomorrow."

A few minutes later the Chief Inspector entered alone. He looked embarrassed.

"Martin," He said. "There won't be a trial, at least not of the man you stopped."

"There won't? Why not?"

"He managed to commit suicide in prison. There will be an enquiry, of course, but it looks genuine. He left a suicide note. He had been cooperating with our investigations into the group that radicalised him and he said he felt he had betrayed them..."

"No trial? That's a relief."

"Why a relief?"

"I hadn't been able to tell you earlier because I had only just started to speak again, but you don't know about my past. It could have been awkward, possibly even dangerous, for me if it had been revealed in court."

"Why? Aren't you Martin Thomas?" He laughed but stopped suddenly as he saw the expression on my face.

"Oh shit!" He said. "You aren't Martin Thomas, are you? I thought there was something about the way you acted. It didn't seem in character with the persona we found. You seemed to appear as an adult with no educational records and no birth certificate, yet got a PhD here -- but you have a genuine passport and driving licence. We suspected witness protection but there were no records of that either. And then there were the old bullet scars, long healed, but you had no military service. Are you going to tell me now?"

"That depends on your security clearance, Chief Inspector," I said.

"Clearance? I'm counter-terrorism. I have the highest clearance."

"OK."

I told him about my service in the Australian Special Services, some of my actions in Borneo, and the price placed on my head.

"Why such a high price? What the hell did you do?"

"An enemy force had crossed the border and ambushed some of my mates. A few died. That was the fortune of war, even if it was an undeclared war. But that enemy patrol then attached a village for helping us. The village hadn't, but the patrol didn't care. They killed all the males after torturing them, raped everything female and then killed the females and the children. I was the next person to go to that village and I found the bodies."

"Then what?"

"I went berserk. I went off on my own carrying a suppressed weapon, crossed the border, something we were never supposed to do, tracked that patrol and found them celebrating at their base. Even their sentries were drunk. I slit the sentries' throats, found their ammunition store and set a fused timer in it. That would have been acceptable but I killed their commanding officer in a shoot-out. I didn't kill everyone. I had to escape, injured, when the rest were aroused by the commander's shots. I might not have got away except that the ammunition store blew up. That damaged their night vision -- but I had been recognised."

"Recognised, Martin?"

"Yes. I was the Australian force commander and the enemy had photos of me. Even so, the reward for my death would have been reasonable except that the officer I had killed was one of their President's cousins. My superiors felt that I was a danger to my troops. While I was being hunted the enemy would use more resources than they had done before.

I was also facing a court-martial for abandoning my troops; ignoring orders not to cross the border; not to undertake revenge attacks and not to go it alone. That court-martial would have been embarrassing for the Australians, nearly as embarrassing as having one of their officers on a wanted poster, unjustly accused of war crimes. The solution was that I had to disappear. If I resigned, the Australian government would announce that I had died of the wounds I had received in the action, and would give an empty coffin a full military funeral.

That Australian Special Services officer is dead. He can't come alive again without unfortunate diplomatic consequences..."

"I have to agree, Martin. If all that had come out at a trial it could have been very unfortunate, but..."

"But?"

"I have a few questions. First, how did you get to Australia and back without appearing on the records?"

"That was easy. I went out under my birth name, with my parents, and my father's surname. I came back with that same name and a renewed British passport, obtained with Australian government help. While in Australia, and while in their forces, I was using my mother's surname. That persona is dead and buried."

"And the name you use now?"

"I took my step-father's maternal surname and used my second name, Martin. I changed that by deed poll and I have a passport in those names, and have had for years."

"So that's why we couldn't find your parents. Your father is in Australia, remarried. Your mother, now dead, was in the UK, remarried, but your surname doesn't match either father. Next question. Do any of your girlfriends know any of this?"

"No. Two know that I have bullet scars but haven't pressed me about them. Janis knew but assumed I'd been in the British forces. Carol knew and recognised what they were immediately because she had worked in a hospital in Belfast. She didn't ask questions. The nursing staff here probably recognise the scars but so what? I'm just a patient."

"Not just a patient, Martin. You are famous, a hero, and some of the staff have gone above and beyond the call of duty for you."

I actually blushed.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed. My officers have been jealous of you. The male ones admire your girlfriends. The female ones might want to join them. Back to business. There will still be a trial, but for the attempted murder of you. You wouldn't even be a witness. Janis and my female protection officers will be. You'll be mentioned, of course, but you won't be called to the witness stand. "

We continued to talk for some time. He was interested in my actions in Borneo and it was pleasant to be able to talk about them without restraint.

Later that day Doctor Mary examined me and announced that I could go to Carol's flat tomorrow if I could walk a few paces. I tried, with her help. I was unsteady at first but within half an hour I could walk across the room even if I was exhausted afterwards.

The next day I was taken by ambulance to Carol's flat. I was put in a wheelchair for the transit. The flat was accessed through the bank, either by stairs, or by a lift. We had to pass through the bank's security door first. Once upstairs Carol insisted that I lie down on her bed for a while. I was asleep within seconds.

The next couple of weeks were bliss. I was regaining my strength, frequently massaged by Janis, and exercising gradually to recover my muscle tone.

I'm not sure whether the exercises or the sex were more draining. I had to satisfy Carol, Madeleine and Janis. Even Chloe and Marie made a couple of visits 'to see how I was' which ended only one way. Between us we used a large quantity of condoms.

The trial of the young man Janis had tackled started. He claimed his name was 'Death To Infidels' and insisted on pleading 'Not Guilty' in that name. The judge decided he should be referred to as 'Mr Dee Tee'. The first couple of days were just legal argument. When Janis was due to take the witness stand I thought I should be there in the public gallery. I was fit enough to take runs around the local park, to cycle miles, and to do a number of press-ups, not as many as I'd like to, but a satisfying number.

Mr Dee Tee's defence barrister started questioning Janis. I was listening but I wasn't wholly concentrating. There were a couple of young men in the public gallery who looked out of place and nervous. After a recess, in which I bought a newspaper, I made a point of sitting behind them.

Janis was describing how she became suspicious of the scarfed woman in the foyer. As she did one of the men in front of me put his hand inside his shirt. It came out with a large ceramic kitchen knife. He started to stand up. He didn't get far. I chopped hard at his forearm with the tightly rolled newspaper. He dropped the knife which cut through his shoe into his foot.

The other man turned towards me, also pulling a knife. I banged the end of the rolled newspaper hard up under his jaw. He started choking but his hand was still holding the knife and waving it towards me. I swept it aside. Was it my fault that it meant he badly cut the first man?

I punched the second man hard on the nose with my left fist. It broke very loudly. The first man was clutching his side. Blood was gushing through his fingers.

The armed police guards from the floor of the court arrived, pointing their weapons at the two men. I noticed that the safeties were still on. The two men were handcuffed and dragged away. The judge ordered the courtroom cleared.

I met the Chief Superintendent just outside the court.

"Thank you again, Martin. We expected them to shout protests, not to produce knives. We had been watching them carefully but you reacted first."

"Why were your weapons on safety?" I asked suspiciously.

"They weren't loaded. We were afraid to trust our officers with live ammunition in such a crowded room. We did have loaded weapons out here but..."

"I'm worried. There will be another trial of those two and I'll be a witness."

"We will make sure you aren't asked anything about your past. If you are, the judge will direct you not to answer. We hope he won't have to. We have been in touch with the Australian Security Services. They confirmed your story and added that you have a posthumous bravery award -- which you can't claim."

"Of course I can't. It's posthumous. I can't even wear the medals I had before that. I'm dead and buried."

"So you are. Or that part of your life is. The trial is starting again. I've got to go back in. Are you?"

"Yes. I'm there for Janis."

Mr Dee Tee had been bundled out of the dock and downstairs as soon as the two men had drawn their knives. He was back but the front bench of lawyers were in a huddle. The judge announced that Mr Dee Tee had pleaded guilty to attempted bodily harm and possession of an illegal firearm. The prosecution had accepted that plea and sentence would be given in a couple of days. The jury was discharged.

Janis joined me outside the court. We went for a coffee.

"Thank you for stopping them," she said. "I suppose they were after me?"

"I don't know, Janis. They might have been trying to give Dee Tee a chance to escape, or just cause mayhem. Whatever they were trying to do, they failed."

"Why did you talk so long with that senior policeman? I wanted to talk to you, but your discussions seemed serious. Why?"

"I can't tell you, except that it was about my past life."

"Oh! Those old bullet scars? I wondered about them when we first made love. They have faded now but then they were what? A couple of years old?"

"About that. But I can't talk about them. It might have been awkward at Dee Tee's brother's trial. The two today? Now that the UK security services know about my past, it won't be mentioned at the next trial."

"It's that important?"

"Not so important, but could be embarrassing or a diversion from the trial."

"You realise that you looked very scary when you tackled them? Two men armed with large knives and you disabled them with a rolled newspaper?"

I laughed.

"I'm less scary than a ballet teacher who wears steel toe-capped boots. They'll recover quicker than your victim. Did you notice? Weeks later, and he is still walking as if his balls are sore."

Janis took a taxi back to her flat. I went to Carol's flat by underground. I would be in the news again. I'd have to hide out to avoid the media for a few days.

The two men pleaded guilty. They and Dee Tee were sentenced to a few years each and deportation at the end of their sentences. That was a relief because my fame gradually eroded and I could resume a normal life.

But one thing wasn't normal. I was still shy with women except Carol, Madeleine, Janis, Marie and Chloe. Over the next few months I had protected sex with all of them, sometimes one to one, sometimes with two at once, but gradually all of them except Carol found new men.

Carol said didn't mind sharing me but she insisted that I was hers. Any of them might me as long as I came back to her afterwards.

Eighteen months later I married Carol. As she came down the aisle, she was followed by four bridesmaids. It was a great feeling to know that shy as I still was, I had fucked the bride and all four of her bridesmaids.

Our wedding night was in the massive bridal suite in a country hotel close to the church. Somehow our large bridal bed held a naked bridegroom, a naked bride, and four naked bridesmaids.

The next morning I felt that I had been well fucked. Carol had to drive us to our honeymoon destination in the West Country while I snored in the passenger seat.

During the next fortnight I tried to take the lead in our love making, but even Carol on her own was enough to wear me out.

I'm still shy with women, but well fucked.