Nicole lay on her back with her thighs apart, and her knees pointing at the ceiling. Her bare feet were hanging limply, almost touching the bedclothes. The cast wasn’t heavy, but surely was very restrictive. With her hips completely immobilized, she was helpless as a baby. She was able to turn on her side, and even to pull herself up into a sitting position, but that was all she could do. In these moments of activity, she was so painfully clumsy that I feared she might hurt herself.

I felt content that she was comfortable with me. There was no shyness in her demeanor. That was a bit strange, considering the fact that we met only a couple of days ago.

I had to prepare a special diet for her, to dress her, to bathe her, to carry her to the bathroom if she needed to use the toilet. She wasn’t a burden to me though. I was glad to assist her in every possible way. And she knew it.

She spent most of the time in bed. She had a fully automated wheelchair but with her legs wide spread, she could not sit comfortably in it. When she needed to go out for a breather, I just carried her to the window. She enjoyed these moments. Me too. My hands supporting her casted hips, her breasts pressed against my chest, her hands resting calmly on my shoulders, her breath tickling my neck. She watched the traffic, the people on the streets, the mountain in then distance. Her childish curiosity was impressive to me. But sometimes her eyes became sad and she sighed. She envied these “normal” people outside.

“Peter, I have to tell you something,” she said and turned on one side to look at me. Her shirt twisted around her waist, giving me a view of her private parts. She quickly covered herself and continued:” I think our relations must change.”

“What do you mean?” I asked worriedly.

“I turned you into a …nurse. You have to go out, have fun, date normal girls, and have sex. I can’t …”

“Nicole, just stop talking like that!” I snapped.

“You know that I am right. I will always be a problem.”

“Nicole, I love you!”

“Oh, come on! We have no future together.”

I jumped on my feet and started pacing up and down. She turned on her other side, with her back to me. Then I sat on the bed beside her and caressed her neck. Her shoulders started to shake violently.

“I love you,” I said calmly.

She stopped sobbing, but didn’t look at me.
***
A week after Nicole’s cast was applied, Nadja paid us a visit. She didn’t seem to be well-disposed to me, nor did she try to hide it. Her displeasure was obvious. She perceived me as a potential threat, and I had to admit she was right.

Nicole pulled herself into a sitting position and waited to be examined. Nadja made sure that the cast was intact, then scanned her pelvic area, using the same device as before.

“Everything seems to be fine,” the doctor announced hesitatingly.

Nicole blinked. I blinked too. Without blinking, Nadia took something out of her bag. It turned out to be a cast saw.

“Great!” Nicole exclaimed and wiggled her toes impatiently.

“Don’t halloo till you are… I’ll have to do some further examinations.”

“Out of the wood,” I interjected.

Nadja’s stare could have frozen me if I wasn’t ready to defend myself with a smile. Her stare softened, but not before my smile evaporated completely.

After the cast was removed, Nicole stretched in the bed and tried to move her stiffened legs. They barely responded to her will.

“You need to do some exercises,” Nadja said and checked the flexibility of Nicole’s hip joints. Then she did some other tests.

“Is everything OK?” Nicole asked tentatively.

“Considering the condition of your body, I could hardly say that everything OK.”

“Sure.”

“And…,” Nadja added,”No sex or any objects in your vagina for at least a week.”

This remark was obviously aimed at me, so I nodded.

“He is very kind to me,” Nicole said.

Nadja snorted and started packing her things.

Before leaving she said,”Use the wheelchair!”

“Please, fill the tub!” Nicole chirruped, after I locked the front door.

“OK,” I said, trying not to look at her perfect (at least from outside), half-naked body.

I was in the bathroom, when I heard the sound of her crutches scraping the floor.

“I’m coming,” I said loudly, and hurried to help her.

She was moving very slowly, struggling with her crutches, wincing at every step.

“You have to use the wheelchair,” I said and supported her back with my hand.

“I can walk by myself,” she said with a tinge of irritability in her voice.

“But…”

“Well, I need to do that!”

She managed to get to the bathroom, then she let me help her out of her shirt, and got into the tub.

“Am I dismissed?” I asked.

She tossed her head back and smiled, revealing a charming dimple.

“You can wipe me dry after that.”

“Is that all?”

“I might need a hand getting dressed …,” she said and winked.

“Sounds good to me!”

“It could be much better if I were not...”

I traced the line of her heel, then pinched her big toe.

She giggled, shaking off whatever was troubling her. At least, it looked like that to me.