No acceleration.
I made the decision at dawn and locked it into his treatment protocol with a single command.
The regenerative serum would continue at its current glacial pace. No increases. No shortcuts. No mercy.
Justin’s recovery would remain deliberately, strategically slow.
I entered his room carrying the updated dosage tray. He was awake, of course. He was always awake now whenever I approached, as if his body had been conditioned to sense my presence.
His condition had become breathtakingly beautiful in its helplessness.
Skin pale and glistening with fever-sweat. Muscles soft from prolonged restricted use. c**k still rigidly hard, flushed deep red, and leaking in slow, heavy drops that slid down his shaft and pooled on his lower abdomen. His breathing was shallow, every inhale
