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Part one of two. Grace was driving through an unfamiliar neighborhood - her attention more on a lively phone-conversation she was having with her girlfriend than on the road ahead. Suddenly an animal raced out in front of her. She swerved to avoid it, and ended up veering off the road and down a steep embankment instead. Over and over her car rolled, until it eventually came to settle as a battered mess in an out-of-the-way spot that hardly anyone visited. Although Grace survived the crash, she suffered a serious head-injury and blacked-out. The next time she opened her eyes, she found that she was lying in a narrow bed in a small room. She wore a gown, her head was bandaged, and a uniformed young man was stood at her side. Grace could barely think for grogginess, but she saw enough to assume that she was in a hospital. She took the young man to be an intern. Despite her poorly condition, she immediately asked him to explain what was going on. The young man filled her in on the car crash. He then revealed that she had been in a coma for nearly three months. It was his responsibility, he said, to nurse her back to health. Grace was horrified on hearing how much time she had missed. She tried to sit up. She wanted to get dressed and to go see her home, her friends, her loved ones. The young man told her to relax, and gently but firmly made her lay back down on the bed. He then produced a needle and injected some sedative into her arm. He explained that it was for her own good: to help ease her anxiety. Sometime later, Grace started to come round. As she slowly grew more wakeful, she realized that something was very wrong. She had been stripped naked, her bandage had been removed, and her hands had been tied down to a bed-frame on either side of her. The young man was leaning close, and he was greedily groping her big tits. Grace gave a distressed moan. She offered feeble words of protest, but could manage nothing more. The combination of her injury, her bindings, and the effects of the injection had rendered her virtually helpless. Through it all she was struggling to think. It was clear enough to her that she wasn't in any hospital, and that the young man was no benevolent intern. But she could not tell whether her predicament was real or nightmare. In a way, it did not matter. She found it equally disturbing, whichever it was. Presently, it only got worse as the young man pulled her bed sheets aside, and started fingering her pussy. Grace felt outright XXXX now. In a desperate tone she asked the young man what he thought he was doing, and once again tried to sit up. This time, with harsh impatience, he ordered to lie back.