Chapter One - The Happening

By James published May 20, 2017
Summary
Rory has a car accident after seeing a bright light on his late night drive home, which he does't realise will change him forever. He acquires the power to 'take' men's knowledge through touch, causing them to revert to piss loving, cock worshipping himbos.

Okay, this is my first attempt at posting a story, there’s no actual sex, but if it receives positive feedback….there will be in the next chapter….

Brain Drain

Chapter One – The Happening

Rory Mannion was tired, very tired, the kind of tired that makes it hard to even keep your eyes open. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, trying to maintain some focus on the road ahead. It was always hard driving home after another 14 hour day. He couldn’t really remember the last time he had an actual day off. There were the occasional family related days, when he would be visiting somewhere with the kids or seeing some distant relative who was over for a visit, but even on those days, at some point he’d be in the office, and even when not there, when he could catch a wi-fi signal, he’d be on his smart phone checking emails.

But tonight he seemed especially tired. At 44 years old, and having been running his own business for some seven or eight years now, since giving up a secure government post in the civil service, the worry of providing for his family, and keeping the orders coming in to keep his staff able to provide for their families was beginning to take its toll. And with the tax people after him for overdue corporate payments against his companies, the stress was mounting. As well as being mentally and emotionally exhausted, and clearly physically tired, he hated the fact that his middle age tummy was spreading and his head of hair was thinning, but he didn’t have the time, energy or money to do anything about either. Not an ugly man, he was certainly no spring chicken, and whilst he had married a trophy wife, who had the looks, she focused more on spending what money he could afford to pay himself, and doing little else! As for sex, the occasional wank in the shower was the most action he’d had for sometime. His wife might look like a sex bomb, but the fuse was well and truly unlit.

Thankfully it was late, the road was nearly empty. Living in a large metropolitan city was great, but he enjoyed the fact that East and West of the city was divided by an expanse of wooded park land, several acres across and with very few houses, meaning that on his drive home he could take a tree lined woody road through the centre of the park, that twisted, and turned, with small hills and little valleys. He enjoyed this more than the flyover which was located to the south of the parkland, this concert monster was a dull grey straight road, quicker but boring, and Rory found when he was tired, like this tonight, the park road forced him to focus, changing gears up and down with the road incline and turns, and be weary of vehicles coming from the opposite direction around blind corners.

But tonight, even that challenge was not enough to keep him alert. He wound down his drivers side window to let in a chill night air, and turned the volume knob up on the radio, trying to force himself to sing (tunelessly) along with the retro disco classic playing on the local radio station, but it was hard to deliver the lyrics between yawns. He could feel his eye lids getting heavy, and slowly starting to shut, just a few seconds his sub-conscious teased, just a wee rest…..

He snapped too as the front nearside wheel hit the grass verge that lined the roadway, and instinctively he grabbed the wheel and turned the opposite way as his foot slammed hard on the brake pedal. But as quick as he came to his senses, he was also blinded by a piercing white light and low frequency humming that seemed to appear as if from nowhere between the tress to the side of the road, and charge at his car, flooding the cabin with an intensity of light and frequency, like a flash that assaulted all his senses at the same time, and then….black, and darkness.

Kelvin took the call whilst his colleague collected the much needed coffees from the 24/7 dinner. Road Traffic Collision (RTC) on the Parkland, single vehicle, number of casualties unknown, police on route, ambulance required. He wound down his window and his colleague emerged with two hot take away cups of coffee:

“Glad you got lids for them Steve, cause we have a shout, RTC, Parkland. I called it in, said ETA 8 minutes”

“That’s pushing it, even with the two’s and blues” replied his colleague, Paramedic Steve Burns, as he climbed into the front passenger seat of the ambulance.

“Yeah, well, with a caffeine hit, lets put the foot to the floor “ grinned Kelvin, as he sipped his fresh coffee and put the ambulance into gear, as the siren and flashing lights came to life at the flick of a switch.

They arrived on the scene just as the traffic cops had set up the flashing yellow warning beacons and started to tape off the road. As the two paramedics exited their vehicle, a police officer approached them through the light rain that had started to fall.

“Just one casualty, white male, looks early 40s, was wandering around in the middle of the road holding a nasty gash to the head when we arrived. He collapsed as we pulled up, steady pulse and breathing, so we applied a pressure dressing to the head wound and placed him in the recovery position waiting your arrival. My colleague is with him now.”

“Good work” Kelvin said in a patronising manner (he had little time for cops) “but we will take it from here.” He grabbed a medical kit from the rear of the ambulance and nodded across to Steve.

“Probably need the collar and board for this one mate,” Kelvin barked, “unless of course PC plod he has already severed the spinal cord with his ‘recovery position’, in which case the blokes a gona!”

Kelvin approached the collapsed body of Rory lying prone in the road and slipping on his protective latex gloves began his preliminary assessment, whilst Steve fletched the scoop board and neck collar from the back of the ambulance.

As Steve approached, Kelvin advised that the neck felt clear and suggested they roll the casualty onto his back, which the two men did, then Kelvin checked along each arm for signs of brake or displacement and Steve did likewise with the legs, starting in each groin and patting down to the feet.

“All clear” both men reported to each other in unison.

“I’ll get the neck collar on just to be safe,” stated Kelvin, “can you hook him up to the monitors mate.”

Steve retrieved his blunt ended scissors from his utility belt around the waist of his paramedic uniform and started to cut away along the front of Rory’s shirt and vest to expose a slightly hairy pigeon chest, then proceeded to place three cardiac monitoring pads in place, connecting the trace wires to the mobile cardiac monitor, and slipping an oxygen saturation monitor finger probe over the index finger of Rory’s right hand. Once done he flicked the power on buttons, and with a flash and whine, the monitors flickered into life and began to pulse and bleep.

“Vitals stable, stats 98%, sinus rhythm.”

Replacing his scissors he withdrew a small flash light, and pulling back each of Rory’s eyelids in turn, flashed a bright white beam into each eye.

“Pupils equal and reacting, GCS 10” Steve reported.

“Great stuff, lets get a line in, start some fluids and get him into the wagon” responded Kelvin, who by now had completed securing the elastic straps of the neck collar.

Using his scissors again, Steve cut up the inside left shelve of Rory’s suit jacket and shirt, to just behind the elbow, and taking a venflon, pierced the skin to access a vein with the needle. This caused Rory to stir slightly and mumble something, flicking his eyes briefly but not enough to fully arouse him.

“Better add some diamorphine to that saline drip mate, seems he is feeling painful stimuli” observed Kelvin.

Once the fluids were running, and the pain relief had been administered, the two professional paramedics used the specialist scoop stretcher to literally ‘scoop’ Rory’s battered body off the wet road surface and wheel him to the back of the ambulance, where Steve remained to tend to the patient, whilst Kelvin secured the rear doors and climbed back into the drivers seat.

Turning the key in the ignition, he gently pulled the ambulance away, lights flashing and headed towards the nearest Emergency Room (ER).

In the back of the ambulance, separated from the drivers cab by a sliding door, currently closed, Steve removed his gloves and taking a pen started to chart down the patients vital signs, ready to hand over when they arrived at the ER. They still had no idea who the patient was, so instinctively Steve reached inside the inner pocket of the patients jacket and felt for a wallet. The left was empty, but success with the right, and removing the wallet, he opened it and found a photo ID drivers licence, belonging to a Mr Rory Mannion, born 1970. Okay, so now they had a name and age, which Steve jotted on his report card.

As the fast moving emergency vehicle hit a bump in the road, a sudden jolt and caused Kelvin to shout “sorry’ from the front cab, the patient groaned and opened his eyes, coming to briefly and grabbing the side of the stretcher, his eyes fixing a powerful lock onto Steve’s. Steve instinctively reach across to steady the patient, and as the skin of his now exposed hands touched the flesh of the patient, he felt an electric twang and tingle, like a static shock, but feeling hot and cold at the same time. His eyes meet the now open eyes of the patient;

“It’s okay mate, you were in an accident. I’m Steve a paramedic, we are taking you to the ER in…..”

Strangely Steve felt funny, like his mind had gone fuzzy, and he was finding it difficult to focus.

“ER in…..er….somewhere, anyway a hospital”

Steve couldn’t remember or think where the nearest ER was now, but somehow it didn’t seem important anyway. He looked into the eyes of Rory more and felt a sudden urge to want to kiss him, which was odd, cause he like girls, tits were hot, not man stubble, but….

“You are cute mate” he grinned, kinda dumb like, “Like I mean really hot man”

Rory was confused, last thing he remembered was feeling tired driving home, then a bright light, a thud and blackness. Now a white clinical light was breaking through this blackness and he could make out the features of a man, grinning and trying to say something to him. He felt pain, all over, like someone had done twelve rounds with him in a boxing ring and he most have had his hands behind his back. He felt the need sudden need to urinate, but then the darkness came and he fell back into unconsciousness.

“Alright in the back there?” Kelvin shouted through, “nearly there now, but if he’s groaning in pain and his sats are okay, give another 5mg of diamorph.”

Steve came out of his trance. “Er, yeah, right. Sats?”

“His oxygen saturation levels” Kelvin shouted back, “get with the programme mate” he laughed.

Steve looked confused, what were oxygen saturation levels? He just knew the man on the stretcher thing was cute and it was giving him a hard on, he could feel his dick pressing on the fabric of his uniform trousers. He moved a hand to start rubbing himself through his uniform, fuck that felt nice, touching and while looking at this hot hunk in front of him.

He knew somehow this was wrong, he should be doing something important, but he couldn’t remember what, and touching himself just felt good, it can’t be bad if it feels good he rationalised. He felt a lust for this man in front of him, a lust he had never felt before, he wanted to see his man’s cock, cock seemed to be a focus for him now. With one hand still rubbing himself pleasurably through his trousers, with his free hand he reached across and started to undo the buckle on Rory’s belt, but as he felt around the groin area of his Adonis like creature in front of him, Steve felt wet on his fingers and brought them swiftly to his nostrils. He inhaled deeply and recognised the distinctive aroma of uric acid - piss.

Some part of his distant mind remembered it was not uncommon for patients to loose bladder and/or bowel control when they experienced trauma or were knocked unconscious, but the animalistic instincts that now drove his behaviours, were highly excited and aroused by this scent of man piss. Steve giggled and said to himself “pee pee” as he licked his fingers and savoured the bitter taste of this golden fluid.

“I want pee pee too” he said, and without thinking he forced what urine he had stored in his bladder out through his now semi-hard cock. He grinned as he felt the warm fluid trickle through the fabric of his underwear and uniform trousers and run between his fingers of his still self groping hand.

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