The Restoration of Gideon Hoder

by: GM

It was a little after eleven a.m. at the Yatfans Srakem Clinic of Last Restorations, a medical facility known and respected (though begrudgingly in some circles) for achieving seemingly impossible
accomplishments in the physical, mental, and emotional well-being of its patients. Their motto was "If we cannot find some way to cure your affliction, you obviously do not have an affliction in the
first place."

The Yatfans Srakem Clinic's reputation was well-known to one Gideon Hoder. He had dismissed it out-of-hand, not for any true dislike of the clinic or its staff, but simply because he had been trained by-the-book, and well-conditioned to dismiss most unorthodox things, particularly health care.

Recently, Hoder had become afflicted with a mysterious ailment that his doctors could not identify. It had left him blind, and while he could scarcely feel normal sensation, he was incapable of all but the most delicate of movement without excruciating pain. His doctors could not cure him, since they had no idea of the name or origin of his affliction. They were finally forced to give up and tell him to simply "live with it!"

Hoder had just about resigned himself to doing just that, when his assistant brought him an advertisement for the services of the Yatfans Srakem Clinic. The assistant himself had once been treated there, and, aware of the acuteness of Hoder's suffering, insisted that he check the place out. The assistant being as assertive as he was well-meaning, Hoder decided to give this strange place a try.

So there he was at the clinic, having just checked in, flanked by two nurses who assisted him into the examination room. He could not see them, but by their efforts he could tell that he was in the hands of two strong and quite shapely women.

The intense light hurt his eyes, and he was given a blindfold to shield them, but so far nothing weird had happened, so he allowed himself to be seated on the table.

"Well, there you are, Mr. Hoder," Racquel, one of the nurses, said. "You're all ready for your examination."

"Thank goodness," Hoder replied. "So painful...just to move a little. One would think I'd be used to it by now, but I'm really not."

"Don't you worry," said Tatiana, the other nurse, "about getting used to the pain. After we're done, there won't be any left."

"Now," Racquel remarked, "let's test your reflexes." With that, she removed his pants, then raised her dress, exposing a bare knee, which she jammed into his crotch. "Now, Mr. Hoder, how did that feel?"

Hoder shook his head. "Nothing."

"Nothing...?" Racquel repeated, a little incredulous, then added, "Let's try again." She jammed her knee into Hoder's crotch harder. "Anything...?"

Hoder shook his head again. Racquel motioned ti Tatiana, who removed Hoder's underpants, then grabbed his penis and scrotum first in a fondle, then in a vise-like grip whose strength Hoder realized
was uncanny, yet he still did not feel much of anything. Realizing her efforts were no more successful than Racquel's had been, Tatiana could only shake her head in disbelief.

"This IS a tough one," she sighed. She pulled out a thin white rope, and, as Racquel spread out Hoder's legs, Tatiana bound his genitals with it, then began to squeeze tightly, causing them
to become quite reddish, but ultimately failed to achieve any significant result.

"Might as well release them, Tatiana," Racquel said sympathetically to her partner. "We'll burst them before getting any life out of them. This requires something most unorthodox."

After Tatiana released Hoder's genitals, Racquel moved around his body, encircling him until she was standing by the other side of his head. She grasped his head and yanked it to a position where his ear was right next to her mouth, and forcing him to face her slightly, she blew into his ear.

"Perceive anything?"

"A...little bit."

"So what's the verdict?" Tatiana inquired.

"Appears to be normal," Racquel replied, "but there is a blockage of sorts. Not of intelligence, or even of nerve function, but..." She moved to her partner and whispered something in her ear.

Tatiana nodded in agreement. "Hmmm...thought so." She turned to Hoder. "Mr. Hoder, my partner and I have come to a consensus about you. And, by extension, a solution. But first, the consensus: THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU PHYSICALLY."

"NOTHING!" Hoder cried. "Nothing...? I still can't see and I can't feel much and can barely move---and you tell me nothing's wrong. Excuse me, nurses, but I must demand to see a doctor---"

"What doctor?" Racquel chuckled. "You don't need a doctor for your trouble, they'd laugh you right out of the clinic! We can take care of you ourselves."

"Oh no-no-no," Hoder spluttered, frantically feeling his way around so as to find his way off the table and find his way to freedom. "Look, you two did your best, but I really think this is a little too---too OFFBEAT---for me---thank you very much but no thanks---!" He found his way to his feet and was about to run but was intercepted by both nurses before he could even go forward. No match for their combined strength, he felt himself forced back on the table, where Racquel leaned over him and pinioned his arms, making sure he did not get up again. Hoder could not believe the ease with which she held him.

"We did say we had a solution," she said to him, a little angrily, "and we intend to keep our word to you."

"Whether you wish us to or not," Tatiana added with equal annoyance. She had broken off to close a nearby curtain. Now at the table again, she kicked a switch and the table began to sink, until the table top was level with the floor. "Now, your little escape attempt actually made this transition a little easier to begin." She smiled wickedly as she got down on her knees to face Hoder, whom Racquel rolled toward her (but still tightly restrained) so Tatiana could more easily look at him.

"Now I'm a captive," Hoder grumbled.

"You're the one who tried to run," Racquel replied. "But on to the solution. What we're about to administer, Mr. Hoder, is called a Sandwich Maneuver. The first half is in the putting together of
the sandwich."

Before Hoder could inquire as to what she meant by that, he felt himself being poked, as in a tickle, by Tatiana, who, by the time he turned, was already on him with a jab, a nudge, a playful kick, a small lick, a mock-bite or scratch, or a bump, as Racquel held and rolled him, pressing her body on his, keeping Hoder completely confused. After a while, they abruptly switched and Tatiana held, rolled, and pressed on Hoder as Racquel jabbed and nudged and bumped and kicked, licked and scratched and bit. It was all the more confusing and frustrating to Hoder that he could not even see who was doing what to him; he had only the lines of each nurse's body to guess from. Still, he could not help but feel the beginnings of sensation in his body, becoming aroused by the female flesh, breathing in warmth and perfume and sensation. An erection was rising up within him, new invigorating life restoring his once-dead extremity to such a living crescendo that Hoder began to fear that his penis would explode.

When the treatment stopped and his erection began to calm, it was a real relief to Hoder. He was very spent, though his exhaustion was one of life, rather than his customary conformist death.

"All done...I presume..." he gasped.

"Oh no," Tatiana replied seriously. "That was just part one. Now the sandwich must be put together."

Hoder had no time even to gasp in disbelief. Tatiana and Racquel pounced on him, pinning him tightly between their gyrating bodies, forcing him to feel their heaving flesh. The pressure of their muscular bodies was incredible, but strangely, he felt himself at ease; he felt his own muscles and tendons and energies being released from their constrictions. Finally both nurses sprawled over his own limp form,
apparently as spent as he was.

"You see, Mr. Hoder," Racquel remarked, "my partner and I are the slices of bread. You are the filling."

And then, their faces over his, each kissed one of his eyes, giving him a strange, icy sensation. Not painful, but---as if a cold breeze had suddenly passed through them.

Responding purely to instinct, Hoder managed to get an arm and hand free. He ripped off the blindfold and opened his eyelids...to see two nurses' faces smiling serenely over him. His eyes watered with relief at the sight...he lifted his head and kissed each nurse on the cheek. He was cured!

And never again did Gideon Hoder dismiss any alternative medical procedure (or any unusual idea) out of hand; instead he would examine everything about it that he could find, and only then, with an educated and open mind, would he come to a decision. That would be the legacy of his visit to the Yatfans Srakem Clinic of Last Restorations, a place that had earned itself a remarkable reputation—with yet one more client released from the bondage of a narrow mind.

Or, in other words, once lost but now found.