Author Topic: Reading a story  (Read 8371 times)

Offline eddiestobbart

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Re: Reading a story
« Reply #45 on: 19. September 2021, 12:58:50 PM »
Another really good chapter - I like the split personality between Robert and Chuckee.

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Reading a story
« Reply #46 on: 13. January 2022, 16:04:15 PM »
It's been a while since I posted a new chapter, so here it is.

Chapter 20

In the morning, we left the legbraces in the bedroom and I transferred into the wheelchair, lifting my legs to place them on the footpads. Robert had to get the bowls from the cupboard while I carried the jug of milk on my lap. Then he had to rub my legs to warm them up again, something that we both enjoyed.

After breakfast was cleaned up, he sat on the couch and I transferred so that I was sitting between his legs, resting against his chest. Together, we worked on the story, putting in the details from our research the night before. It took a little longer than normal, because he insisted that he follow some of the things described on the screen, just so that I had something to compare being in legbraces and not having them on. It was actually a good idea, because there were some significant differences that I hadn't taken into account. That led to adding the morning-after to the story.

Just before lunch, I told him that he had to leave, but I didn't let him go until he kissed me properly. I did tell him that he would be coming back very soon so that we could record the latest chapters and post them to the storage site.

After he left, I had a shower and attended to a little bit of grooming of a few patches of stubble. It was just a quick shower so that I was clean, not one that was used to relieve my frustration, Chuckee had well and truly satisfied those the night before. Even though my body was satisfied, my mind wasn't, and I dressed in an underwire bra with a little padding, stockings and garterbelt, then added a pair of medium-height slim heels.

Then I spent the afternoon in and out of my wheelchair, starting to make my place wheelchair-friendly. The first place I worked on was the kitchen. Starting with the cupboards, I moved half of my dishes from above the counter to below the counter where I could easily reach them, then did the same with the pre-packaged food and cans. I would make a change, then get into the wheelchair and check to make sure that it was convenient to access what I had done. It didn't take very long to do the kitchen, and there were a few changes that would be done after I did some shopping.

Then I started to rearrange the furniture so that I didn't have to maneuver around things as much. The couch, coffee table and tv-stereo stayed where they were, but smaller tables were moved to places that were more convenient. I spent plenty of time in and out of the wheelchair, and found that the short dress that I was wearing was comfortable and didn't bunch up around my legs the way that the skirt had.

In the evening, it was time for me to test out if my work rearranging the apartment was adequate. I transferred from the wheelchair onto the bed and strapped on the legbraces, then transferred back into the wheelchair. There were a few things that I would have to learn to do while standing in the legbraces, like cooking and washing the dishes, but that would come with practice, and I intended to get advice from HotWheels on how to manage. I had moved the microwave to the front of the counter so that I could reach it and planned to get a stand so that it would be at a more convenient height, so I heated some leftover pizza for supper.

It had been a busy and productive day, so I transferred from the wheelchair to the couch and worked on my stories, adding details based on the research that Chuckee and I had done the night before. Some of the descriptions were very detailed, and more than once I had to stop and run my hands over my legs and along the metal struts supporting them. I had learnt something from how Chuckee had teased me, and my hands stayed away from the bare skin below my waist, just touching where the stockings covered my legs.

I went to bed gloriously frustrated, not allowing myself to have a shower to relieve the built-up feelings, mainly because I couldn't figure out how to have a shower without getting the legbraces and wheelchair wet. Having a shower while disabled went onto the list of things that I needed to research.

For the rest of the week, when I got home from work, I had a shower or bath to clean up, then dressed in a different outfit each day so that I could learn what worked and what didn't while wearing legbraces and using a wheelchair. I also bought some things to make life easier. The microwave went onto a stand that was wheelchair accessible and I bought some rods for the closets so that I could hang my clothes within reach. I rearranged my drawers so that all my lingerie was easy to get at.

The most significant thing that I did was practice using the crutches. I started by learning how to maneuver around my apartment with just the crutches, and learnt that rugs were a problem, so I rolled up the loose ones and stored them away. I started out wearing shoes with no heels and worked my way to wearing medium-height heels. Learning how to go from sitting on the couch to standing using the crutches took a bit of research, but Google helped with that. Getting out of and into the wheelchair took more time to learn, but I managed that too.

Then came the real challenge, learning how to do it wearing legbraces. After changing to the metal shoe insert, I tried the legbraces with a pair of shoes with no heel. No matter what I tried, I couldn't get up from the couch using just the crutches. The wheelchair was no better. Sitting down on the couch was more of a controlled crash, and I didn't bother trying to do it into the wheelchair.

I realized that I needed some professional help learning how to do it. HotWheels and I had been chatting online every day and I had sent her a few samples of the story that I was working on for her. I had told her that I had rearranged my apartment so that it was more wheelchair-friendly, but I had kept my learning how to walk in the legbraces a secret…. I wanted to surprise her with how good I had become.

Finally, I had to admit defeat. So I invited her over, telling her that I needed her help with some research I was doing for the story. I had expected her to say that she could come over in a day or two, but she surprised me by saying she would be right over. What I didn't know was that she had her own van with hand controls and drove wherever she needed to go.

I was still trying to figure out how to get up from the couch while wearing legbraces when my phone buzzed. She was at the front door, so I buzzed her in and told her just to open the door to my apartment and come in. As soon as she saw what I was trying to do, she laughed and said, "You're doing it all wrong, you can't use your legs the way that you're used to, you have to coordinate your whole body to get you up." Then she took my crutches and demonstrated what I was supposed to do, standing up and crutching in place until she was lined up with the couch, then bent over until it looked as if she was going to fall over, released the locks behind her knees and sat down.

She smiled at me, and I saw that she was wearing her retainers again. "You're not the only one that has been practicing. I realized that I needed to work on it too after how clumsy I was at the hospital." She looked around at my apartment and said, "How about you show me around. I'd like to see what changes you made to accommodate using a wheelchair. I can probably give you a few suggestions to make it easier to live this way."

I still hadn't tried walking while wearing the legbraces, so I transferred into my wheelchair and waited for her to do the same. Then we started the tour in the kitchen. She made a few suggestions about how to make cooking in my kitchen easier while wearing legbraces, but my kitchen wasn't really that wheelchair-usable for cooking. She liked what I had done in the bedroom with the extra rods in the closet and rearranging my drawers. As she looked through my drawers, she picked up a few pieces and said that she wouldn't mind seeing me in them sometime.

When we went through the bathrooms, I finally got the answers to many of my questions about how she showered and used the bathtub. Her place had been modified to accommodate her limitations with a longer hose on the shower and a water-powered hydraulic seat in the tub, which she invited me to use sometime.

We sat and talked for a while, discussing what I needed to adjust to make my place more 'handicapped-accessible' so that I could experience some of what she did every day. She frowned at the terms I was using and said that she wasn't handicapped, she was capable of doing everything that I could, she just had to do some things differently.

She took me into the kitchen and said, "Make us a pot of coffee and I will show you what I mean." I tried to reach over the counter to grab the coffee pot so that I could fill it to make the coffee, but the counter was too high. "Let me show you how I do it. Move back and watch me." After I rolled back, she took her crutches from behind her chair and, leaning forwards until she looked like she would fall over, stood up. She positioned herself between the sink and the coffee pot, set one crutch to the side, and used her free hand to fill the pot, pour it into the coffeemaker and start it running. "I just did something that you can't do right now. I just did it differently than you usually do."

While we sipped our cups of coffee at the table, she asked me, "Have you gone outside of your apartment in the wheelchair or the leg-braces yet?" When I shook my head, she asked, "Why not? How do you expect to write about things that you don't know about? The stuff that you have been writing lately seems so realistic and I have been really enjoying it."

When I explained that 'Chuckee' and I had actually done the things that I described, she smiled and said, "Then I think that it is time we had a girls-day-out. Let's get you ready to go out." I rolled behind her as we went to my bedroom. She began going through my closet and dresser, selecting things for me to wear. She seemed to have more than one change of clothes when she finished.

My curiosity got the better of me and I asked, "What are all those for?"

She just smiled, the wires across her teeth shining, and said, "We are going to make more than one stop, and you are going to have to change your clothes at least twice. Now, get over here and change." When I looked at her questioningly, she said, "You can either do it in the chair or on the bed, the choice is yours. I recommend the bed, it's much easier to move around on."

I followed her suggestion and changed on the bed, then transferred to the chair again. While I was changing, she packed the rest of her clothing selections in my backpack.

By the time I was done, she was laughing at me. "Stop trying to act like a cripple, it looks fake. Use the muscles you have to do what you want to do. All you have to do is relearn how to move using the devices you have. Let the wheelchair, leg-braces and crutches become a part of you. I'm still learning how to use mine, and that changes as I recover from my injuries." Placing the backpack on my lap, she said, "Now, let's get out of here."

She stopped me before we could leave, telling me that I needed to take the crutches with me and showing me how to stow them in the clips behind me on the chair. When we got to her van, she explained how to transfer into it from the wheelchair and how to use the crutches to transfer instead. Her explanation included how she found it easier to get in and out of the van with her leg-braces and that it made it easier to load and unload the wheelchairs with the power sliding doors.

It turned out that our first stop wasn't a store or restaurant, it was a building that looked like a warehouse, except that the interior had been turned into a gym. She had me use my wheelchair to give me a tour of the building and introduce me to the staff on duty. The owners were a group of disabled veterans who had wanted a place to regain and maintain their health away from the eyes of the general public. The place was by referral only by members of the gym. She told me that she was a member and that I should watch how the different people used their bodies as they exercised. She also told me that I would be coming back to exercise with her.

Then she took me to the mall. As soon as we started rolling through the mall, I became aware of the different ways that people were looking at us. Some would glance at us, then it would seem as if we became invisible to them. Others would turn and stare at us as we rolled by them. To many of them, we were just a couple of females out shopping. I noticed that guys tended to pay more attention to us than the women. It shouldn't have surprised me that much, since we were both wearing knee-length skirts, blouses that showed a bit of cleavage and heels. The fact that we were also wearing leg-braces and in wheelchairs definitely drew a lot of attention as well.

By the end of the afternoon, I had a better idea of what she was talking about when she said that I needed to 'stop pretending to be crippled' and to learn how to use my body differently to accomplish what I wanted to do.

Before she took me back to my place, we stopped at a restaurant for something to eat and to just sit and talk. Other than eating in the hospital cafeteria, this was the first time that I had been in a public environment in the wheelchair to eat, and it was an eye-opener for me. It felt as if everyone was watching us, yet when I looked around, there were only a couple of guys our age looking in our direction, and it wasn’t really the wheelchairs they seemed interested in. When HotWheels saw where I was looking, she glanced at them, smiled and then turned her attention back to me.

“You’ll have to get used to that if you're with me. Being a good-looking female in a wheelchair isn’t much different than without the chair, it just takes a while to get used to the attention you draw.” Then we went back to chatting.

The conversation moved to the latest chapters of the stories I was working on. She hadn't seen the last few chapters of the story that I was writing for her, so I transferred them to her phone and she read them. When I commented that the one female character had a lisp and I didn't know how I was going to record it convincingly, she asked, "How did you do it when you recorded the other story?"

I explained that I had used the whitening tray and that I was a bit drunk when I did it, so I was slurring the words more than lisping. My accent had also been stronger and that added to the impression of the lisp. "While it was kind of fun to do it that way, especially with who it was for, I don't want to make it a habit of getting drunk while working on my stories."

HotWheels looked at me for a while, then began to grin. "Let me think about it for a while. I may have a solution to your problem, and I think you will enjoy what I come up with." She took a couple more sips of her coffee, then asked, "How would you like to go to the gym with me? I haven't been going enough and need to work on building strength in my legs. You can sit at the side and watch the other people there and see how each person uses different methods to accommodate their injuries."

I probably could have said 'no', but the opportunity to be able to gain information for my stories was too good to pass up, so I agreed.

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Reading a story
« Reply #47 on: 13. January 2022, 16:05:14 PM »
Chapter 21

When we arrived at the gym, she suggested that I bring in the backpack and get changed so that I would fit in with the rest of the people there. There were no large changing rooms. The owners had thought of what would be best for their clients and had built several private changing rooms, each with an adapted shower. Even the washrooms were adapted so that they were convenient to use. Their changing rooms were large enough that we both were able to fit in at the same time, as long as we were careful how we maneuvered our chairs.

HotWheels made more room by transferring to the bench and folding her chair before changing into her workout clothes. I expected her to wear yoga pants so that her legs would be covered, but she slipped on a pair of sheer leggings and a pair of short-shorts, then put on her leg-braces again. When she saw my puzzled look, she said, "The leggings are so that the cuffs on my leg-braces don't stick to my skin. The shorts are so that I look good. I may have a few scars, but my legs still look good and I like to show them off. I'm not going to be the only one with scars out there and mine aren't that noticeable. Now hurry up and get changed."

We switched places and I began to get undressed. She stopped me and said, "Stop trying to act disabled. Use your muscles to do the things you need to do, just learn how to use them differently." I followed her advice and was soon changed. She had packed yoga pants for me and a skin-tight sleeveless top. The leg-braces felt a little different with the yoga pants between them and my legs, but not much.

We put our backpacks in the lockers, then rolled into the main workout area. It wasn't busy and HotWheels was soon warmed up and ready to go. I wasn't sure what to expect her to do, but it didn't turn out to be a normal workout. She grabbed her crutches and stood up, crutched to the counter and talked to the girl there, then crutched back to me with a grin on her face. "My favourite instructor is here today and is going to work with both of us. Don't worry, I told her about you writing a story for me and that you need some experience before you write more of the story. She knows that you just got the legbraces and need to learn how to use them. She'll take it easy on you and concentrate on teaching you the basics of how to walk and get in and out of your wheelchair."

A few minutes later, a door opened and a tall blonde girl walked through the door. HotWheels had been right, her scars weren't that visible. The girl walked, or rather strolled, over to us. She was dressed similar to HotWheels in shorts and a tight top, though her shorts weren't as short. She shook hands with HotWheels, then introduced herself to me as "Sarge" and said, "You must be IrishMolly. I've read your stories and really like how you write things from the women's point of view. HotWheels told me that you just got the braces and are learning how to live with them. I'm surprised that your therapist didn't spend more time working with you, but I'm sure that I can help you out. As you can see, I have some experience with learning how to walk again."

It was pretty obvious what she was talking about. Her left leg had scars from the ankle to her knee and her right leg ended above the knee, with a metal and plastic prosthesis below that. If she had been wearing street clothes, I wouldn't have been able to tell that she was injured,  even with her slight limp.

"Okay, HotWheels, let's get you started, then I'll work with IrishMolly for a while." Sarge took us over to the wall where a set of rails were located and lines were taped on the floor, along with several obstacles such as stairs and ramps. After watching HotWheels for a while, she turned to me and said, "Okay, Molly, your turn. We'll start you with the basics. Grab the rails and stand up, then we'll practise swinging your legs together as you move around. If you are okay moving between the rails, we'll try the crutches next. Hopefully, by the time we are done today, you'll be walking by yourself."

I remembered what HotWheels kept telling me and used my muscles to stand up. Swinging between the rails was easy because they didn't move the way crutches do. Before long, Sarge had me to the point where I could get in and out of the wheelchair and swing between the bars, turn around and swing back, then sit in the chair again. Then she had me try it using the crutches and I found out that it wasn't that easy to do. I had to relearn how to stand up without being able to pull on the rails.

It wasn't until Sarge took off her leg and showed me how she shifted her balance around when she got into and out of my wheelchair that I finally figured out how to do it. She obviously could do it without removing her leg, but it was a much more educational experience for me to see her do it with one leg. She wouldn't let me stop practicing until I was able to get out of my wheelchair and crutch beside the rails and return to my wheelchair. By the time she was satisfied with my progress, I was starting to feel sore all over.

HotWheels had been sitting in her chair for a while, watching Sarge torture me and trying not to laugh. More than once, I heard her stifle a laugh as I learnt how to walk all over again. Sarge finally took pity on me and said, "That's enough for today. Join me for a drink and let's talk for a while."

HotWheels and I rolled after her as she led us to the juice bar. After Sarge brought us all drinks, we talked about the stories that I was writing. She suggested that I should come back again and that she would like to work with me more to improve my skills with the wheelchair, leg-braces and crutches, then she said something that surprised me. "You move pretty well in those leg-braces for someone who isn't disabled. With a little more practice, nobody will know that you don't need them." After I recovered a little, she added, "I'm actually impressed that you are willing to learn what it is like to have to do things differently than most people are able to. What I don't understand is why you would go to all the trouble."

It took me a while to explain that it all started when I couldn't find stories that were written from a female point of view, and that I found it easier to write about things that I knew about, including how things felt. When I explained about my boyfriend temporarily blinding me and everything that had happened since, she grinned and asked, "So, you've done everything that you wrote about?"

I blushed a little as I replied, "I didn't write about everything I did. Some of it is just going to stay unwritten, though I will tell you that I very much enjoyed everything that I did. If you don't mind, I'd like to use some of what we did today in my stories. Can I use you in my stories?"

She grinned as she said, "You can, but there is a condition attached. You have to come back again so that I can torture you some more. And I want to tell you a few stories of how I ended up this way. Maybe you can write about them, though I don't want you to have to go through what I did."

I happily agreed with her conditions, and after exchanging emails and phone numbers, HotWheels and I headed back to my place.

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Reading a story
« Reply #48 on: 16. January 2022, 06:42:56 AM »
Chapter 22

For the next week, I practiced what I had learnt at the gym and improved to the point that I felt pretty confident in my ability to walk in the legbraces. I worked on both of the current stories, adding a couple of chapters to each story. Sarge had given me an idea for a new story and I had started on an outline for it.

HotWheels and I had talked about the story that I was working on for her, among other things, and one of the things she had asked was if I would be available on Friday afternoon to go with her to an appointment. She wouldn't tell me where we were going, though she said that I needed to use the wheelchair. The leg-braces were optional, but I would enjoy it more if I wore them, and heels would be appropriate. I was to dress comfortably in a knee-length or longer dress or skirt, though pants would be fine.

When she picked me up in her van on Friday, I chose to wear the leg-braces, and after a bit of experimentation with pants, decided that a dress was more comfortable. I chose dark-grey stockings, without a garterbelt, and mid-height heels that I had practiced wearing while crutching around my apartment. As long as I didn't have far to go, I was comfortable wearing them, and I thought they looked good with my outfit.

All during the drive, we talked about the progress I was making on the stories, though she avoided any mention of my recording them for the storage site. Before I realized where we were, she had parked at the hospital, in a disabled parking stall near the entrance doors. I surprised her by using my crutches to support myself while I unloaded my wheelchair, then stowing the crutches behind me after I had seated myself.

It was still a mystery as to where we were going, but at least the building was a little familiar. The time spent practicing in the wheelchair paid off as I was able to keep up with her as she set a brisk pace through the hospital. Some of the corridors we took looked familiar and then she turned a corner and we were outside her orthodontist's office.

As soon as we rolled inside, I knew that I was in for an interesting afternoon. The assistant at the front desk greeted me by name and said, “You’re a bit early for your appointment, Miss Molly, but that’s okay. It gives me a chance to tell you that I have been enjoying listening to your stories and I think that I have read most of the others. HotWheels said that you write about things that you have experienced and that you were having a bit of an issue with recording what you wrote, and that she hoped we could help you.”

When I turned to look at Hotwheels, she had her finger against her lips, trying to get the assistant to not say anything more. “Miss Molly has no idea about what I asked for, and I want to keep it that way a little longer.” The smile on the assistant's face got bigger as she realized just how much fun I was in for. “Why don’t I take you in and get you ready. I see that you have your crutches with you. Do you want to leave the wheelchairs here so that the room isn’t quite so crowded?”

Now I knew why Hotwheels had been so specific in what I should wear and what options I had. All the practice wearing the leg-braces and learning how to use them properly paid off as I parked my chair out of the way, leaned forward and stood up using the crutches. I used the swing-through gait to move down the hall and into the treatment room, then sat down in the treatment chair when she directed me to it and adjusted the level for me. Instead of being a controlled crash, I was actually pretty graceful as I sat down.

The assistant left to get the doctor, and she must have said something to him, because he had a broad smile on his face when he walked in. “So, Miss Molly, this is your second appointment with me. I don’t usually have patients that are in as good shape as you, but I was asked if I could help you out a little. I told HotWheels that I would have to think about what she asked, but she said that you would be okay with being my patient. Now I was told that you have no idea about what is going on, so I have to ask you. Are you okay with being here today? What I am doing is a bit unusual, to say the least.”

Before I had a chance to reply, HotWheels said, “She’ll be fine. I told her that I had an appointment. I didn’t tell her that the appointment was for her. She’s been fine with everything that I have done to her so far and this is going to be the easiest experience yet.”

He looked at me for confirmation and I just shrugged and nodded. He took that to mean that I was agreeing to what was happening and said, “Let’s get started then. I want to have one more look at your teeth before I do anything, just to be sure that everything is okay.”

HotWheels pulled a sleep mask out of her pocket and said, “I don’t want her to be able to see what is going on. It would have been so much more fun if she could have worn her contacts, but this will have to do.”

Just as he was about to ask what she meant, his assistant leaned over and whispered something in his ear. His smile got bigger when she turned to Hotwheels and took the mask, then slipped it over my eyes. The chair reclined and I opened my mouth as he adjusted the light to shine onto my teeth. The check didn’t take long and then I heard things being placed on the tray beside me.

I wasn’t really surprised when the doctor said, “I don’t exactly know what is going on here, but I suspect that some of my employees are involved in it. I know that you have no idea, so before I do anything else, I think that I need proof that you are agreeing to what is going on, so I'm going to have HotWheels record you saying that you agree. I’ve always been able to trust her and she’s always been honest with me, and I think that you trust her as well. If you agree to let whatever is going on continue, I’ll still let you stop me at any time that you want.” He paused until I heard Hotwheels say, “Okay, ready to record.” Then he asked me, “Do you agree to become my patient and let me treat you?”

I wasn’t too sure about how he was phrasing the question, but I responded, “Yes, I consent to being your patient.”

With a chuckle, he said, “Now that the formalities are over, I’ll get started. I’m going to be describing what I am going to do so that you know what is happening. You can ask any questions you want and I’ll stop any time you want me to. Most of what my assistant has scheduled you for won’t be visible and almost everything can be removed by you whenever you want. I have a feeling that HotWheels has spent quite a bit of time talking to her about what is happening, because almost everything can be used separately and will still fit together with many of the other pieces.”

I heard some chuckling coming from both of them, and the assistant said, “I felt that it was my responsibility to provide professional advice in the matter. If I didn’t have an answer to a question, I asked someone who did. When I explained why I was asking and who it was for, almost everyone was happy to help. I may have made a few suggestions along the way as well. Miss Molly has quite a few fans around the hospital.”

I could hear the amusement in his voice as the doctor replied, "That would explain some of what is on the tray." Then he directed his next comments to me. "Okay, Miss Molly, we're going to start on your molars. You’re going to taste a sour chemical as we get them ready to put bands on them. You won’t need spacers, since there are already small gaps. Nobody will see them because they are at the back. They will be used to anchor some of the other things that are on the list for you to wear. Any questions about the molar bands?”

I had about a thousand questions that I could ask, but not about the bands. He had been thorough enough in his explanation of what would happen. I knew people that had worn braces and they told me that they didn’t have a problem with their molar bands, except for the spacers that were used at the start. I just shrugged, opened my mouth and waited for them to start working. It felt strange to have my lips spread so far apart and not be able to close my mouth when they stuck the retractor in place. I felt them brush something along my gums in the back, and a little while later, my gums went numb.

His warning had been accurate. The chemical smell was kind of strong, but it didn't last long and the suction hose did a good job of removing the water that was used to rinse the chemical off. The next part felt even stranger. They put a ring around a molar, then they took it out, did something to it and put it in again. Then they took it out and did it all over again. I could feel the pressure change when they moved from one side to the other and top to bottom, but the back of my mouth was numb.

I didn't realize that I hadn't been listening to them until Sheila tapped my shoulder to get my attention and asked me to bite down. When I bit down, I felt something between my jaws that felt like the handle of a toothbrush and that it was pushing something around my molar. She had me do it several times on each side, and then there was a buzzing noise for a while. When the buzzing stopped, the retractor was removed.

Without being able to see what was going on, I was using my other senses to try to compensate. My imagination was in overdrive as I listened to the noises around me, inhaled the scents around me and felt the air moving around me. The noises were the most fascinating. Every time HotWheels shifted her position, I could hear the joints on her leg-braces creak a little. I could also hear things being moved around on the tray, and in the background, just loud enough to recognize, was a recording of my first story. I hadn't used any real names and the locations had been left vague, and very few people knew how much of it had actually happened. Whoever had put it on had started at the beginning and it was still about shoes, clothes and coloured hair, and about the coffee-dates.

I felt the back of the chair moving upright and Sheila asked, "Would you like to rinse before we continue? It's always nice to get rid of that chemical taste. A little mouthwash will clear it out." When I nodded, she placed a paper cup against my fingers and held it until I grasped it. "There's a hospital pan in front of your mouth, just lean forward and spit gently." It seemed as if she had thought ahead about how to make things as convenient as possible, but then working in a hospital probably meant doing things a little different than in a normal orthodontist's office. After I swished the mouthwash around a little, then spit, she wiped my lips with a damp cloth.

After I settled into the chair again, Sheila said, “We’re going to test fit a few things that you can put in and remove by yourself. You may need a little practice with some of them, and I am sure that HotWheels will be glad to help with that. Some of them she had herself, so she is familiar with them. For the devices that are a little more complicated, I am more than willing to teach you how to use them. I’ll tell you what each device is and if you need information about what it does, just ask. Is that okay?”

I nodded and smiled, then waited for her to continue. Whatever they had used to numb my gums had gotten onto my tongue and numbed it as well. It had acted very fast, but it didn’t seem as if it lasted long, because the feeling was starting to return to the tip. I ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth, but didn't have enough sensation yet to feel what they had done.

Offline MetallicTaste

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Re: Reading a story
« Reply #49 on: 16. January 2022, 17:17:53 PM »
I'm really enjoying to where the story is heading. Hoping to read what happens next.