Renewal

The light, what little there was grew dim. This was it, I thought, as the world faded at the periphery. I hear a loud pounding, my heart aching to satisfy my weakening muscles as they begin to fail. My breathing has slowed, stopped even, as I wait for the finale.

The pounding grows louder, deafening really, to my ringing ears. No, it's the door. The door's open. My cock...

I awoke some time later in a dark hospital room. There's a woman on my arm, naked, I can feel her body pressed against mine as I delicately try to slip my nude arm out from under her. My arm is half-asleep, but I notice the new watch on it. 1:43:15, it says, counting down. A large LED display on the wall displays the same time stamp.

It's an EDP room, a specialized luxury room in select hospitals to treat those like me. I look at the door, and there's a keypad preventing me from exiting. I walk over to the large window, and pull the blinds open. Light shines in, as it's daytime. I wince at the intrusion and look back, as the woman groggily yawns. "Good morning," she says.

"Let me out."

"I'm not allowed. Not until nine. Shift change." She smiled. She rolled out of the hospital bed, and put on a pair of nearby stockings. "The floor's cold," she said, to my unasked question as I looked at her curiously. She walked over seductively, as I examined her body. My cock was erect once more, but I attempted to will it down with thoughts of the last couple days.

"Where am I? Is this prison?" I had a sneaking suspicion this wasn't just a hospital room.

"Not exactly. But you are under a suicide watch. Why don't you have a seat over here?" she gestured towards a group of lazy chairs.

"Why did you turn down sex? You know that can kill you, right?"

"I killed her."

"Lacey Greer. It says here she was struck by a driver, Juan Martinez, with Intercontinental Trucking. He had a blood **** level of 0.25. He's going away for manslaughter, no doubt, and DUI."

"Yeah, but she was only there because I had her jeep impounded and told her to walk home."

"She probably should've gotten off the interstate. Martinez might get killed in jail. The guy who kills him might get sentenced to life, and get killed himself. You're not responsible for the ravages of time."

"Who are you?"

"Oh, sorry, Janet Reeves. I'm a psychiatrist with a specialty in Erection Dependents. We've fucked about three times since they brought you here, so I sometimes forget that we haven't formally met. You don't remember talking earlier?"

"No."

"Memory loss is a symptom of the early onset of phalarsenesthenic shutdown. The five or six fucks you've had should get your body on track, since there was no other physical injuries involved. We got in early. If we got there any later, you might've been in a coma for 30 years instead of 30 minutes."

"Who brought me here?"

"The girls. We have them in the harem lobby. We can bring them in, at shift change, if you want to fuck them."

"I dismissed them."

"They didn't listen. You were clearly out of your mind, not wanting to have sex."

"It's not that," I said, frustrated at the whole thing, "I took them from their lives. I have done horrible things."

"You fucked them. **** a couple. But you didn't kill Lacey Greer. We've reviewed your entire sexual history these last three days, Mr. Doe, and aside from a couple violent gang rapes and a **** orgy, there's nothing I would consider the least bit immoral about your activities."

I lashed out at her. "What the fuck are you talking about?!" I screamed, grabbing her shoulders as I spit venom. "I am the monster, here. I killed Lacey Greer. I **** her daughter. I **** my sister. I- I..."

"You're hurting my arm..." she said, simply, and I let go, breathing heavily. She looked down at my more erect cock and smiled, walking towards a large flatscreen.

She turned on the screen and a familiar looking bald teenager appeared onscreen, in a blurry black-and-white photo. "This is James Dover, although he went by Ben," she laughed at an old joke while showcasing the worst serial killer in world history. "In 1950, he contracted Erection Dependence." She clicked a button. "This is the Apartment of ****, in sunny Kissimmee, Florida." She showcased blurry black-and-white photos of an old apartment complex, clicking it to show the insides, with colorized photos now showing the walls stained with blood.

"Dover killed an estimated 3000 women before he died of starvation, but not through the efforts of his last attempted victims, who did everything they could to save him. He gained everything he ever wanted, and lost the will to live, it seems."

She kept clicking, showing me grisly **** photos, as I attempted to look away, focus on her naked body, or the sunny outside, but to no avail.

"He would kill them five at a time, and had an agreement with the Kissimmee City Council to procure more victims and to dispose of the bodies. The things he did, even after their deaths." She kept clicking. Apparently he had a love for photography as well.

I was entranced, but disturbed. "Why are you showing me this?" I ask, as she finally puts down the clicker after reaching a photo of a clearly strangled, deceased, teenage girl. She walked up to me and reached to my groin.

"Because," she said, wrapping her hand around my cock, "your erection's gone."

I looked down, but into the older lady's eyes, not to confirm what I already knew. "You're not the worst one with this disease. Not even in the top five."

"I want to see Everly," I asked, in demanding tones.

"At shift change," she reiterated. "Now let's see about getting that erection going again. She knelt down and got to work, easier said than done as I stared at the grisly photo for all to see.

"Relax," said the bald man as my mother paced in a large room with the other girls. They had all been given pink bathrobes to wear that exposed their private parts when sitting down, but none really cared. My mother, sweet as could be, was so worked up, that she didn't even bother to close the robe after putting it on, pretty much remaining naked within the room.

"Is he going to be okay?!" she asked the suited man who was not even a doctor, as he glanced down and smiled while ogling her body, but she did not care about that.

"My wife said he was only **** for about a half hour. We've had a steady run of nurses, and my wife of course, fucking him since he got here. As expected, his metabolism has gone into overdrive, and he's getting a full recovery."

My mother was so relieved, she hugged the short man who reciprocated. Cheers erupted amongst the other five at the good news. Everly was crying, not only at her mother's recent passing, but at fear of causing my ****, and a hand-hold from Cindy calmed her down.

Jana called her husband to report the good news. My mother wanted to get in there and fuck me right that instant, but the man reported that it wasn't possible until shift change. Janice stood up and started asking very specific questions about this situation, and the man smiled to have someone more knowledgeable to explain things to.

"Sorry, if I haven't introduced myself before. I'm actually a major donor to Los Angeles EDP prevention and preservation center, and I have a long history in both the political arena and business world, so I sometimes forget when you little people don't recognize me," he laughed, trying to pretend he was joking with that phrase. "I'm Charles Reeves VII, former Solicitor General." He reached out his hand for Janice to shake, and she vaguely recognized the name.

Well, anyway, time for shift change.