At first, Gary Boffman thought that he had fallen asleep and was having a wet dream when the gorgeous blonde nurse entered his room wearing a uniform tighter than most people's skin and showing enough cleavage to conceal several deadly weapons between her breasts. Hell, under the right circumstances, her breasts could BE deadly weapons -- he had had a few fantasies of being smothered by mammoth mammaries.

"Hi," Jayne said with a radiant smile as she pushed a cart into the room. "Have you been expecting me?"

"N-n-no," Boffman stammered. "I may have been hoping for someone like you to come along since I reached puberty, but I can't say I've been expecting you."

"Oh, I'm so glad that you have a sense of humor, considering." Jayne let the cart come to a stop on the right side of Boffman's bed. "Well, you may not have been expecting ME, in particular, but you have been told that a nurse would be coming in to see you, haven't you."

"Well, uh, yeah, sure, I guess." Boffman was not about to say anything that might make Jayne think she wasn't welcome.

Two more figures entered the room, one male and one female, and assumed unobtrusive positions by the door.. Both were clad in surgical gowns and masks.

"Oh, Gary -- pardon me, may I call you Gary? I do like to be on as friendly terms as possible with my, well, special patients." Jayne put an emphasis on the word "special."

"Sure, whatever you want. Uh, what should I call you?" Boffman asked.

"You can call me 'Jayne,' Gary. Now, I hope you don't mind, but we won't be entirely alone -- not for this visit, anyway. The two people who just came in are here to observe. One is a nursing student and the other has a very keen interest in my special techniques. I can't imagine that a big football star like you would be shy. You don't mind that they are here, do you?"

"Well, uh, no. But what are these special techniques?" Boffman's imagination was running wild with possibilities.

"I have a certain reputation," Jayne let that word hang pointedly before she continued, "of being very good with young men who are in your, em, condition." Jayne moved around to the other side of her cart and bent over it provocatively. "It seems that I am especially good at raising the, uh, morale of patients under your circumstances."

"Yeah, I can see that you would be. I mean, you've got a very pleasant manner about you." Boffman was, indeed, feeling better every moment.

"How, very, very kind of you. Well, shall we get started?" Jayne abruptly picked up a four-inch long straight-edged razor from the cart. The way the stainless steel caught the light somewhat startled Boffman. The glint of what could be either playfulness or wickedness in Jayne's eyes reinforced the threatening appearance of the blade.

"Wh-what are you going to do with that?" Boffman could not keep a quiver out of his voice.

"Why, I'm going to shave you, of course! What else would you expect?" Jayne laughed as she began to sharpen the razor on a belt attached to the cart.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Of course. I just haven't seen one of those outside of a movie," Boffman explained. "I didn't know they still made them."

"Well, I could use a safety razor if this makes you nervous. But I assure you, I am quite good with it. You do trust me, don't you?" Jayne pouted just a little for effect.

"Oh, absolutely," Boffman assured her. "And, well, I guess I'm going to have to get used to having people do things like this for me. I hate to be a burden for the rest of my life."

"Yes, but, of course, that won't be much of a nuisance." Jayne's phrasing could be taken as meaning that caring for him would be a pure pleasure -- or it could mean something else.

Having sharpened the razor, Jayne began to prepare the lather. She looked whistfully out the window at the setting sun and said, "Well, it's harvest time."

Taking her words as reference to the season of the year, Boffman said, "Yes. This always has been my favorite time of the year. The leaves will be turning soon. I've always liked fall colors. I guess, though, I probably won't be able to enjoy them as much this year."

"Oh, that's such a sad, lovely thought, dear." Jayne turned away for a moment and wiped her eye as though brushing away a tear.

Boffman tried hard to conceal his delight at such a nice show of sympathy from the beautiful nurse. He began to calculate all the many ways that he might be able to capitalize upon this.

Jayne seemed to have composed herself when she turned around as said, "No matter how many patients in your, uh, circumstances that I care for, I'm still surprised at the way sweet, simple things can mean so much at times like this." Jayne then put on an exaggeratedly broad warm smile that had a trace of what Boffman read as lasciviousness. "Well, the lather is ready. I guess it's time to do what I came here for."

"I did shave this morning, but I'm afraid I probably do have a pretty good case of five o'clock shadow. I hope you don't find my beard too tough," Boffman appologized.

"Oh, darling, your beard doesn't concern me at all. I'm not here to shave your face." With that statement, Jayne lifted the sheet and began to raise Boffman's hospital gown. "Now, if you're shy, I could ask my associates to leave. Or, if you would rather, I could ask a male nurse to come in and do this."

"I, uh, no...that is..." Boffman was torn between wanting to make it clear that he definitely preferred being touched by women and protesting against having his manly torso shaved. "Go ahead. I mean, I want you to, uh, do whatever...."

"Em, nice," Jayne murmured approvingly, her eyes fixed on Boffman's cock, which, functioning independently of its owner's ability to move or lack thereof, was behaving just as its nature dictated in the presence of a beautiful woman.

Flattered by Jayne's admiration, Boffman said, "I guess you must like what you see."

"Oh, yes," Jayne admitted. "And I'm sure that some of the other nurses on the staff will want to get a look at this." She leaned down and whispered with a leer, "Some of them may even want to do more than look, when they get the chance."

Although this was actually in accordance with Boffman's wishes, he decided that he should affect at least a bit of shock at Jayne's statement. "Well, uh, that would be fine, but I do think they should ask first before they just help themselves. I mean, a guy has a right to say 'No,' too."

Jayne laughed, straightened up, turned to pick up the shaving cream, and said, "Oh, don't be silly, Gary. A corpse doesn't have any rights!"

Boffman was startled. With a gasp, he exclaimed, "What do you mean, 'A corpse doesn't have any rights'?"

Turning had placed Jayne in a position to unobtrusively shoot a glance at the masked female standing by the door, who blinked her eyes and nodded.

Suddenly, Jayne put down the shaving cream, turned back to Boffman, and said, in a voice full of pity and concern, "Oh, Gary, you darling boy! You mean, you haven't been told?"

"Told what? That you're some kind of sadistic bitch?" Boffman was on the point of yelling for help.

"No, Gary, you poor lamb." Jayne laid a hand on Boffman's shoulder to reassure him. "You really don't know do you? Nobody, not even your doctor, has told you? Oh, no wonder you were in such a cheery mood. It wasn't that you were being brave, although I'm sure you're very brave; you haven't been told anything, have you?"

"No, I haven't. I don't know what this all about. I'm paralyzed -- I'm not dead!" Boffman wanted to be sure Jayne knew the difference.

"I'm so sorry." Jayne leaned toward him in earnestness, and also so that he have a better view of her cleavage. "I guess nobody has told you that there are substances in your blood identical to some found in the blood of a girl who died from a dose of a very unusual poison. Apparently, there is no known antidote, and there is no reason to believe that the same thing won't happen to you. I really shouldn't have to be the one to tell you."

Boffman gulped. He knew that what Jayne said was partly true, but he did not want to reveal why he was certain of a different prognosis. "I....I....Look, there's been a huge mistake. I'm sure. I mean, how can you be so sure that I've got the same stuff in me...and that it's going to kill me?"

"The police had the girl's body brought to our morgue, the hospital's morgue, that is," Jayne explained. "It was some kind of fluke that they discovered she had been poisoned and they haven't fully discovered just what the fatal substance is, but her blood was being analyzed at the same time as yours and, well, call it serendipity or something, but, sure enough, you have the very same chemicals in your system as that poor little thing did. Of course, nobody knows how those chemicals got into your system, but I understand there is a policeman who is eager to interview you before, uh, well, while he still can. I suppose he's looking for some link between you and the girl.

"Anyway," Jayne continued, "the likelihood is that you will wind up the same way as the girl in the morgue and, well, you have signed an organ donor card, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah, sure," Boffman answered. "The coach has all of us sign them as a sort of public relations thing. But I thought, well, don't I have to be dead first? I mean, aren't you rushing things?"

"Gary, the doctors won't take out anything truly vital, like your heart and lungs until you don't need them anymore, and nothing will be done without your consent," Jayne assured him. "However, this poison seems to mainly affect the central nervous system, causing it to shut down various systems and organs. I guess the doctors are thinking that if some organs, like your kidneys and spleen, are removed in time, they might usable. It might be possible to cleanse them of the poison."

Jayne leaned down very close to Boffman and said, in a warm, sympathetic voice, "What's happened to you is a real tragedy, Gary, but think of this as a way of mitigating the loss. I'm sure that your spirit will live on among your team mates. Why, I can almost hear the coach now, firing up the team with the words:

"Let's go out and win one for the Boffer!"

Both of Jayne's assistants seemed to feel the need to stifle a cough. Boffman, however, took her words quite seriously.

"Imagine, Gary," Jayne continued, "how thrilled somebody -- well, two somebodies even -- will be to be able to say, 'I've got Gary Boffman's kidney!' Think of that!"

Boffman gulped and said, "Yes, but...I'm not dying!"

"Well, Gary," Jayne said gently, stroking his shoulder, "no, not right now. Not right this minute, but I'm afraid, realistically, there is a kind of inevitability about your circumstances."

Jayne smiled warmly, invitingly. She had positioned herself so that Boffman could see her breasts straining against the stitches Mavis had sewn to hold the zipper together. She was showing him cleavage that he could get lost in. Completely lost.

Jayne kept her voice low, deeply seductive as she said, "You know, Gary, your death does not have to be a matter of fading into unconsciousness and then slipping over unaware. It could be something quite different, something, em, exciting."

Boffman's eyes widened as Jayne leaned nearer, touched his cheek with her fingers and said, "It would be possible for me to give you some medication that could put you to sleep and you might pass over on the operating table, never knowing what happened, but that would be awfully dull, a terrible waste of one of life's great moments. There are far, far more interesting, enjoyable ways to make the transition."

Were these Jayne's special techniques, Boffman wondered. Was she some sort of professional siren given the job of persuading men on their deathbeds to consent to speeding up the process a bit?

Jayne wet her lips with her tongue, glanced in the direction of Boffman's erect cock, then tilted her head slightly, as she continued. "It would be so sad to see a beautiful young man with such an, uh, obvious capacity for enjoyment of life's pleasures slip out of life like someone sneaking out a backdoor when he could exit with grand flourish."

Boffman was feeling flattered, appreciated. Jayne wanted him. She wanted to occupy a special place in his life. She wanted to seduce him in a way that no more than one woman could seduce him. He remembered that in mythology, a siren lured men to crash their ships on rocks. The protuberances he was threatened with were much softer.

With a bit of pride, Jayne went on. "I'm a thoroughly competent, experienced professional, Gary. Why wander solitary when you could have an expert guide? Trust me, Gary, you couldn't be in better hands."

Jayne saw Boffman's eyes darting from her breasts to her mouth to her breasts to her eyes to her breasts. "Gary, most things in life have to be earned, worked for, and then, when achieved, can be so disappointing. This is something you only have to ask for, and I guarantee you won't be disappointed. All you have to do is say 'yes.'"

Jayne's manner was sympathetic, warm. Her voice was almost hypnotic and certainly arousing. Her words had the form of a generous kind offer. Yet, Boffman found her invitation more menacing than any threat he had ever heard. This was not a deadly threat, but it was a deadly invitation,

And yet, it was so hard to resist. It was the fulfillment of a fantasy. It represented an opportunity that he could not expect to come along again. It was so tempting, so hard to refuse. Nearly impossible to refuse. This might never happen again. How many times would such a beautiful angel of mercy make an offer of this particular mercy?

Jayne saw that he was seriously considering her proposal and decided to quickly get him back into survival mode, saying, "Gary, I'll make it even easier for you. You don't even have to do say 'yes.' All you need to do, is just not say 'no' and let me take matters into my own hands. Trust me."

Boffman's hesitation caused Jayne realize that she might be doing her job a little TOO well and she quickly added, "You do realize, of course, that I wouldn't be talking like this if you weren't going to die anyway."

This snapped Boffman back to reality.

"But, but, I am NOT dying!" he protested.

"Gary, I wish I could offer you some hope, but," Jayne said, with a touch of sadness, "we can't deny the reality that you have exactly the same substances in you as the dead girl in our morgue."

"No, no, I don't! I don't!" Boffman was emphatic.

"Gary, please don't go into denial. Please, let me do my job," Jayne pleaded. "How can you be so positive that you haven't been poisoned just like that poor girl? Why, you don't even know who she was."

"Look, this girl, the one in your morgue, do you know anything about her? Do you know where she worked?" Getting a nod from Jayne, Boffman asked, "She worked in a massage parlor, didn't she?"

"Well, some have called it that." Jayne was thinking, like you and your partner, you prick!

"Okay, see, she and I have some of the same stuff in our systems, but she has something that I don't have. What I have won't kill me!" Gary really wanted to be believed. He wanted Jayne to stop her deadly seduction, which he was not sure he would not give into.

"Gary, how could you possibly know such a thing? You aren't saying that you poisoned that girl, are you?" Now that she had him in a talkative mood, Jayne wanted to make the most of it.

"No, I didn't. Dr. Klinghoffer did. I wouldn't know how to poison anyone. He's an expert!" Gary was making a defense.

"But Gary, then that means he's probably the one who poisoned you, too."

"No, he only gave me drugs to paralyze me, not kill me."

"Gary, your paralysis has nothing to do with this substance. It can't." Jayne was hoping to get an explanation for something that didn't make sense to her. "Any drug that would paralyze you would paralyze your whole body, head to toe. You're only paralyzed from the neck down, and that could only be the result of an injury."

"No. The way the doc describes it, when a person swallows a lot of the drug, it has the same effect over the whole body, if you give them enough. He gave me shots. When you get little doses in shots, its effect is only local," Gary explained.

"Gary, I know the doctor gave you an injection in the neck on the football field, but that was only one shot. He didn't have time to give you more. No matter how good he is, he can't tell medicine go only down instead and not up. Your voluntary nervous system is basically the same throughout your body." This puzzle, in fact, had almost caused Jayne to doubt some of her own theory about the case.

"Well, it doesn't work on the nervous system itself. The doc said it was more like a super muscle relaxant. We've been working on this for a long time. For over a month, he's been giving me little shots in my arms, my legs, my abs, but he didn't give me any in my head. Today's shot was a lot bigger than the others and it went right into a major artery," Boffman explained as best he could.

"You mean, the drug works at the site where the nerve connects to the muscle and he brought the level of toxin in most of your muscle tissues up to the point where one large injection would spread throughout your body and render you incapable of movement wherever you have had previous injections." Jayne found this to be an explanation that made sense to her.

"Something like that," Boffman agreed.

Still wanting to know more, Jayne continued to be the seductive vamp. "But, Gary, why would anybody want to put a marvelous, gorgeous body like yours out of commission? I mean, why would you want to be paralyzed."

"So I won't have to play college football anymore," Boffman snapped.

"But Gary, you're a superstar on campus. People idolize you. I'm sure that you have coeds lined up at your door," Jayne flattered him. "Why would you want to give all that up?"

"Because I don't want to wind up like my grandfather -- knocked out of a sure-thing pro career by some silly-shit injury he got playing football practically for free!" There was bitterness in Boffman's voice.

"Well, Gary, why didn't you just drop out of college and sign a pro contract, then? You could have everything that goes with that life: cars, clothes, and, of course," Jayne said with a definite tease in her voice, "women."

"I'm Grandpa's favorite grandkid right now. He wants me to live out his dream for him, and he's got me in his will for practically the whole enchilada. I'm a cinch to have some kind of pro career, but I don't know how long it will last," Boffman explained. "If I just dumped on Gramps' dear old alma mater that taught him all about competition and sportsmanship, I'd be s.o.l. when it came to his will."

Jayne tried to conceal the contempt in her voice as she asked, "But how can a man, even if he is a great big handsome hunk like you, expect to get a pro contract if he's paralyzed?"

"Well, this isn't permanent," Boffman laughed. "After about six months, the doc will quit giving me shots and I will be on my way to a 'miraculous' recovery. In the meantime, my eligiblity to play college ball will have run out and I'll be off the hook with Gramps."

"Why that's the cleverest thing I've ever heard of!" Jayne gushed. "But I don't still don't see how you would know anything about that poor girl in the morgue. What does she have to do with this?"

Boffman gulped. "Oh, well, yeah, her...uh..."

Jayne decided to encourage Boffman by reminding him that he had already placed the blame for the girl's death on his partner. "You said that Dr. Klinghoffer killed her. Why? Was it like an experiment or something?"

Boffman looked at her and seemed to relax a little, as though he had remembered something. "Well, she walked in on a meeting we were having about this. It's not that she overheard anything, but Doc figured that just to be on the safe side, she ought to be put out of the way, so that she wouldn't start adding things up after today's game and figure out that this isn't what it's supposed to look like."

"But, if she didn't hear anything, why should she think there's anything odd about the star quarterback talking with the team doctor?" Jayne wasn't really sure she would get an answer to this question.

Boffman surprised her a little by saying, "Well, we weren't the only two at the meeting. There was a third guy there, Augusto Coramunga -- I think they call him Auggie the Corpsman. Somebody I shouldn't even be seen talking to."

"You mean, somebody from organized crime? Why would they be interested this? Or why would you need them? It sounds like you and the doctor had a very, very good plan." Jayne hoped that her flattery was still working.

"Oh, it's a great plan," Boffman said with a smirk. "But it wouldn't have any payoff for at least a year. The doc wanted something right now, and so did I, for that matter. We figured -- I mean, the doc figured, that if we could set up my so-called injury partway into the season and in a way that affected the outcome of a game, it would be of big-time interest to certain people. I mean, long odds, well-placed bets, a surprise outcome -- that can add up to some big dollars."

"I'm sure it would," Jayne agreed, forcing a smile.

"See, Doc got this idea years ago for how to cover up fixing the outcome of a game with a phony injury that would be so terrible that it would be the focus of all the media attention. Nobody would look real careful at how the game was lost or what an upset it was, while everybody was talking about the 'great tragedy.' He was just waiting for the right boy to come along to make it work. I was the right boy." Boffman seemed very, very pleased with himself.

It occurred to Jayne that the quarterback was talking pretty freely, but she didn't worry about that and pressed on. "So, you say that killing the girl was the doctor's idea?"

"Oh, yeah, him and that Auggie guy." Boffman tried to present the face of innocense. "When he told me about it, I was shocked. I didn't want any part of it and I begged them not to, but they wouldn't listen. They said she was a loose end that needed to be tied up."

"So, you didn't have anything to with the plan to kill the girl?" Jayne asked.

"No. I guess Doc supplied the poison. For all I know, he gave it to her himself. Maybe he had some help from Auggie and his boys."

"You did, however, know about the plan?"

"Well, I can't deny that, Miss," Boffman confessed. "I think in telling me about it, they were making a kind of veiled threat to insure my cooperation. I mean, I did suggest -- just once -- that I wanted to call the whole thing off, and they said that wouldn't be a good idea. They had shown me that they were willing to kill to make sure the plan came off. I guess I was just scared. Whoever that poor girl was, I just feel sorry for her."

"You mean, you didn't know her name?" Jayne asked.

"No."

"But you knew she worked in a massage parlor or something like that?"

"Uh, they told me that." Boffman covered himself.

"Well, thank you for the interesting story, Gary." Jayne stood up straight, dropping all her seductiveness. "I'm sure my associates also enjoyed it."

Boffman had been so captivated by Jayne that he had almost forgotten about the two people standing by the door. Nevertheless, he didn't evidence any panic when the male figure stepped forward and removed his mask and spoke.

"Mr. Boffman, I'm Lieutenant Christopho of the homicide squad. I'm placing you under arrest. At the moment, the charge is conspiracy to commit murder. Now, you have the right to remain silent...."

Boffman remained calm as Christopho gave him his rights.

At the end of the recitation, Boffman said, with trace of the smart aleck in his voice, "You don't intend to take me to jail, do you. I really can't walk."

"No, but I will have an officer stationed either in this room or outside the door," the Lieutenant told him.

"You know, Gary," said Jayne, "you don't seem terribly upset that you've been caught. I wonder why that is."

"What have I been caught at? I was seduced, led astray. Doc got me terrified with stories of injuries. He convinced me that he knew of a way to have a pro career, stay in my grandfather's will, and not have to play out my college career. I'm a total innocent corrupted my elders. I may have some trouble convincing people that I can be trusted, but I do think a pro team will still take a chance with me." After a moment's reflection, Boffman added, "I think that after hearing my side of the story, even my grandfather will understand how I'm really almost as much of a victim as that poor dead girl."

"I had a feeling that you were pretty quick to tell your story," Jayne commented.

"Well, as soon as you mentioned poison and a dead girl, I knew something was up. And, then, when we got to talking and you turned on the charm, I really was worried that you might, well, talk me into letting you, uh, suffocate me with your hooters. You do have a very nice set and I have had fantasies along those lines." Boffman seemed both embarrassed and aroused by the memory. "Anyway, once I started to talk, I realized that, really, I'm not in very much trouble. The serious crime here is the murder of that poor girl, and, while I maybe knew about it, I did try to talk them out of it. I mean, I hoped right up to the last minute that they wouldn't do it."

Seeing that Jayne and Christopho were not entirely believing him, Boffman went on, "Look, I have no idea how they poisoned the girl. For all I know, they may have, like, grabbed her and forced it down her throat. I'm sure that the girl, if she were alive and able to, would tell you herself that I had nothing to do with her death."

"I doubt that very much," said the masked woman, who had remained by the door but now stepped forward and removed her mask.

"Oh, shit!" Boffman recognized Katie.

"Now, Gary, is that any way to talk to the girl you got a piece of ass from on your last day of freedom?" Katie asked, with a mock pout. "And, oh, by the way, Mr. Stud Quarterback, after we get done with you, it's going to be a lot longer than six months before you get your next piece."

Boffman remained silent, contemplating the truth of Katie's prediction.

"Well, Lieutenant," said Jayne, "Katie and and I have to do a fast costume change for the second act."

"On your way out, would you ladies please ask the officer outside to come in and babysit Mr. Boffman, in case he becomes even more talkative?" Christopho asked. "As soon as I introduce the two of them, I'll be on my way to round up the audience for that second act."

Jayne nodded and she and Katie turned towards the door.

On her way out, Katie couldn't resist the temptation to turn, blow Boffman a kiss, wave bye-bye to him, and say, "Treasure the memory of our encounter, because you can be sure I won't, asshole."