DISCLAIMER: WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
THIS STORY DEALS WITH EXPLICIT SEXUAL SUBJECTS. SPECIFICALLY WITH RAPE. IF THIS MAKES YOU SICK TO YOUR STOMACH, OR IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, DO NOT READ. THE AUTHOR REJECTS ALL RESPONSIBILITY FOR SEXUAL ABUSE (INCLUDING RAPE) BROUGHT ON BY THE AROUSING NATURE OF THIS MATERIAL. THIS IS STRICTLY FANTASY. NOT REAL LIFE. IF YOU CAN'T TELL THE DIFFERENCE, SEEK PROFESSIONAL HELP IMMEDIATELY.
James noticed Ethan the first week of medical school, and he fell in love at first sight. Ethan was tall, muscular, and brimming with charm and confidence. Unfortunately for James, he was also very obviously very straight; he had no problems bedding a new girl every Saturday night. James resigned himself to the friend zone and Ethan seemed oblivious to his romantic feelings towards him. Classmates had their suspicions. Some used to joke that James followed Ethan around like a helpless little puppy follows its owner. But really, James wasn't helpless with Ethan so much as helpFUL, and Ethan clearly enjoyed the arrangement. James would lend his class notes to Ethan. He would make up study cards for Ethan. James would feign interest in Ethan's endless descriptions of the tight pussy he fucked last weekend. James would pretend to laugh when Ethan cracked his jokes about AIDS-infected faggots.
When classes ended and rotations began, Ethan stopped talking to him. Somehow it wasn't such a big surprise to James. He knew it was because Ethan just didn't need him anymore. But he still cried when it happened. He couldn't help it.
Dr. James Levine was right; he didn't go back to sleep that night. He couldn't help but think about Ethan. The tragedy of his accident; how he still felt a twinge of arousal when he first saw Ethan again; and how that arrogant fucker didn't even remember him after all the time they spent together! Anyway, the morning was extremely busy and he didn't have time to dwell on these things. He went about his rounds, same as usual, save for the patient in room 104 screaming for 5-star hotel room service from the poor nurses.
By evening things calmed down. James was tired. He should have gone home to sleep, but something was drawing him to Ethan's room. Curiosity? Schadenfreude? Desire? James shuddered. He approached Ethan's room cautiously. Ethan was such a difficult, angry patient that the nursing staff was thrilled when James put him on a mild sedative that afternoon. Now he was sleeping in his bed quietly. With the staff avoiding his room like the plague, nobody would notice James standing in the doorway, quietly studying Ethan from afar. He couldn't help but admire Ethan's handsome face. If only it weren't connected to such a world-class asshole, James thought. Remembering his examination this morning, James felt a twinge of arousal as he thought about how he had laid hands on Ethan's bare chest and legs.
As James stared, Ethan's legs began to spasm, his body flailing to and fro. As he flopped about helplessly, he slid from his bed onto the floor. James needed to rush in to help him, or call for help. But... he didn't. He stood at the doorway, just wondering what would happen next. His leg bag must have been damaged by the fall; James noticed the puddle of urine slowly expanding underneath Ethan's body. As the urine soaked into Ethan's gown, James stared, transfixed. Ethan's eyes were still closed. He was asleep in his own pee.
About two minutes passed, and James knew he couldn't just leave Ethan on the floor like that; he had to do something. He entered the room slowly and walked up to him. Standing over him, Ethan looked like a helpless little puppy, James thought. He bent down and gently lifted Ethan back onto the bed. The urine-soaked gown had to go, and James easily peeled it off. Ethan, now naked, continued to sleep. Next, the damaged leg bag and catheter had to go. Normally Jolene would take care of this kind of thing, but James wanted to give her a break and do it himself this time. James firmly grasped Ethan's penis and pulled.
The catheter out, James' hand lingered on Ethan's penis, slowly tracing the length of the shaft down to his balls. He had fantasized about this cock so many times. He desperately needed it, and he just couldn't pass up his chance. It was late; staff was minimal, and in no hurry to visit their obnoxious new patient. Ethan was sedated, sleeping peacefully, and had no sensation below his neck. Nobody would know. James was rock-hard as he slowly moved his face down to Ethan's crotch and took Ethan's cock into his mouth. As he licked and sucked, Ethan's cock began to grow. James knew this was just a reflex response-- Ethan still couldn't feel a thing down there-- but finally having Ethan's long, hard cock in his mouth had stoked his lust even further. Staring up at Ethan's sleeping face, he took his hungry mouth off of Ethan's cock and switched to jerking it with his hand instead. Caught up in his fantasy and unable to control himself, he leaned in and kissed Ethan, on the lips, with tongue. That was a mistake.
Ethan slowly woke to the pleasant sensation of a wet french kiss. For a moment he passionately reciprocated; his dumb cunt of an ex-girlfriend must have finally come to her senses. But as his head began to clear, he realized with much distress that the stubble of a two day old beard was brushing against his lips. He mustered all his strength and tried to push James away, but it was a futile, pathetic attempt. He was being kissed and fondled by another man, and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. But when James finally broke off the kiss, Ethan gasped in redoubled terror at what he now saw. His cock was in a man's hand; wet with a man's saliva. And it was as hard as a fucking ROCK! Tears welled in his eyes. He sputtered defiantly, as much to himself as to James, "No! I am NOT a fucking faggot!".
With Ethan awake, James' mind was racing. He knew he didn't have much time, and he knew what he wanted and needed to do. He grabbed a ball of leftover gauze, stuffed it into Ethan's mouth, and taped it in place. In a flash his pants were down and his cock was ready for business. He effortlessly flipped Ethan onto his stomach with his ass pointed up; Ethan was in no condition to put up a fight. James reluctantly grabbed a container of vaseline and lubed up; he knew he couldn't take the risk of leaving evidence for the nurses to find later during bath time. Pinned helplessly under James' able body, Ethan let out a muffled cry as James fucked him in the ass, hard, again and again. By the fourth or fifth thrust Ethan was quiet-- either resigned to his fate, or too mortified to speak. It didn't really matter which. The accident had taken Ethan’s body away from him; Now James was claiming that body for himself.
James neared orgasm, but he knew he needed to do something first. He grabbed his cellphone and grunted "Smile!" to Ethan as he snapped a picture of his cock deep in Ethan's ass. James was smiling; Ethan wasn't. Satisfied, James came quickly, all over Ethan's ass and back. He took one last photo, then he carefully cleaned up. He carefully wiped down Ethan, redressed him, and gave him a new catheter and leg bag. He wiped up the puddle on the floor, changed the bedding, and tucked Ethan in securely. Finally, he gently removed the makeshift gag on Ethan's mouth. He held up his cellphone and whispered, "If you make any trouble for me, I'll make sure everyone from med school sees how much of a little faggot cripple you really are." He gave Ethan a quick peck on the lips, and left. Ethan wasn't going to be telling anyone anything.
It had been a really long day. Dr. James Levine drove home and went straight to bed for some well-earned rest, a contented smile on his face as he drifted to sleep, dreaming of his newest patient.