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English => General => Topic started by: Braceface2015 on 19. January 2021, 12:35:08 PM

Title: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 19. January 2021, 12:35:08 PM
I don't know how long this story will be. I was chatting with MikeB and this story began to form from that chat. Enjoy and comment if you feel like it. Writers always like to know that people have read their stories, even if it is only to hear what didn't appeal to you. Polite comments are always welcome and help us all to improve our writing skills.

Reading A Story

By Braceface2015



It all started with an innocent comment by one of the guys that I work with. We are on the night crew and many of us wear headphones so that we can listen to audiobooks or music. His complaint was that he couldn’t find any good stories that he liked that were read by females. Since he had a massive collection of audiobooks, I felt that he was qualified to make the comment. I had my collection of stories, and he had given many more to add to it. He tended to be quiet and kept to himself, but was quite friendly once you got to know him.

Every break, he would sit near the back of the breakroom and frequently would spend his time writing on his tablet. Sometimes he would get up to get something and he would leave his tablet on the table, and a couple of times I was able to get a peek at it just long enough to see the web address of the site he was on. It turned out to be a chatroom, and it quickly became apparent that it was a fetish room. At first, I didn’t know what to think, but after using a guest account, found that it wasn’t what I first thought it was. Most of the people on it seemed to be nice, even if they had an odd fetish.

I expected the people to be creepy, but the conversations were more about what was happening in their regular lives. Sometimes a new person would get out of line, but they were warned about it once or twice and then they got removed. I noticed that some of them also wrote stories about their fetishes, and many of them had more than one, and the stories were quite good. I also noticed that one person would frequently post at night around the time that our breaks were. Sometimes it would be a comment or part of a story.

I started to use my phone to watch the chatroom when we were on break and created an online character for myself. I began to comment on some of the topics being discussed or on a chapter of a story that I found interesting. I made it clear that I was female and that I wasn’t looking to get involved in meeting anyone, I was only there to chat occasionally. I also wanted to read the stories, as I was finding them to be a nice diversion from my real life. There was also a section for people that were more into their fetish and were more mature. No kids allowed, and No newbies. You had to prove yourself to be qualified before you got in.

There were a few stories that I had enjoyed the latest chapters of, so I went back and read them from the beginning. I began to comment on how they were written and what parts in particular I liked. Over time, I began to compare things between the story and things that were happening in the real world, sometimes using myself to compare them to. Things about my job crept into my comments, and the late-night author took note of them.

One comment that I deliberately started to make was that it was a shame that none of the stories were available as audio. A few people suggested that someone should use a text-to-speech program to do that, but the overwhelming response was that the voices just weren’t that convincing, and that far too often the more unusual language was too garbled to understand.

An idea began to form in the back of my mind, but I wasn’t ready to suggest trying it, at least not yet. I began transferring the new story chapters to audio files using the free software available on my computer and found that the voices sounded too flat and there just wasn’t any expression in them. I listened to them at work a few times, then deleted them from my phone, unsatisfied with the quality of them.

As the idea began to take shape into a plan, I began to ask if anyone had any good stories that were written with a female character telling the story and a few people said that they had read one in the past, but nobody had a copy of the story. People began asking around and rumours began circulating about someone having a collection of stories, but nobody seemed to know where it was. I started searching for stories online, but the ones I did find weren’t what I was looking for. Far too many just used braces as a tool to show how dorky a character was and they weren’t mentioned again. Other stories were written by kids and just weren’t of very good quality.

The type of story I wanted was turning out to be almost impossible to find. I began to make suggestions that someone should write a story from the female perspective and gave a few ideas to be included in the story. There was a little interest in the idea, but nobody seemed to take up the idea. I kept pushing the idea and began to develop a character, using myself as a template for her features. The character I wanted in the story should be short and busty, have long wavy hair with some red in it and be reasonably intelligent. I didn’t want her to be too much like me because I didn’t want to be recognized. There was a little bit of interest, but nobody wanted to do it.

I started to send private messages to the writers who were currently doing stories, asking them if they would be willing to help me. I got a lot of polite reasons they wouldn’t or couldn’t do it. Then I worked my way through people who had written stories in the past. I didn’t get much of a response, mainly because lots of them were no longer active. I still wasn’t sure if my co-worker was one of the people posting stories to the chatroom, but he was kind of cute and I made an effort to get to know him a little better. I also made an effort to form a friendship with the person online who posted during our breaks. I gave him a few details about myself that I withheld from the rest of the chatroom. I took it slow with both the person online and my co-worker, keeping them as separate people until I could be sure that my suspicions were correct.

Because there was an underwhelming response to my requests for someone to write me a story, I began to try to do one of my own. I had plenty of time on my drive into and away from work, so I started using the speech-to-text function on my phone. I quickly found that it didn’t work that well with my accent and that it was taking me just as long, if not longer, than just typing it myself.

I started to just record my attempts and then transcribe them onto my computer when I got home. This worked a lot better and I found that I had more time to do other things. At first I just deleted them after transcribing them, but I noticed that I liked the way I sounded on the recordings and left them on my phone. Sometimes I would listen to them a few times, trying to think of ways that I could improve on the story.

The stories posted to the chatroom were better than what I had come up with, so I started to record them so that I could listen to them at work. The quality wasn’t very good because I just used the microphone on my wireless phones, but at least I had something. My collection of recordings began to grow, but the audio quality was poor.

I did a little online investigation into how to get good quality audio at a reasonable price, and found a couple of microphones were recommended. Our store had employee discount days from time to time, and one was coming up, so I kept an eye on what was available in the electronics department. A few days before the next sale, I noticed that there was one of the better microphones that had a damaged box sitting in the discount bin and the store hadn’t been able to sell it. It was easier for the store to mark it way down than it was to send it back and have it replaced. With my discount, they would almost be giving it to me. I stuck it under the counter with a note to hold it for me.

On the day of the sale, I couldn’t wait to get it home to try it. The software loaded into my computer and it came with a program that I could use to edit and adjust the quality of the recording. I went to the chatroom and read the newest chapter of one of the stories. First I listened to the audio with my headphones, then the desktop speakers hooked to my computer. Still not sure of the quality, I linked to the BlueTooth connection on my stereo and played it that way. I compared it to a professionally produced audiobook and couldn’t tell the difference in quality. The next part of my plan had just fallen into place.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 19. January 2021, 15:55:59 PM
Chapter 2

With me working nights, I didn’t have much of a social life. When I got off work, I would go home and relax for a while, then go to bed. After I bought the new microphone, I started to record the stories and develop a collection for myself. I played around with the settings and altered my voice so that it sounded a little different and disguised it. Some of the stories sounded better if they were read by a male voice, so I created one that sounded more masculine and saved it in the settings. For stories that had a male and a female character, I recorded separate tracks so that it sounded as if they were on opposite sides of the microphone. And my collection grew.

I kept working on my story, recording, changing, adjusting and trying again, but just couldn’t get anywhere with it. It wasn’t that I couldn’t write, it was just that I didn’t know what to put into it. I would have an idea and work on it, then it would just stop and I would have to try again. I quickly developed a respect for those people who could write a story. I couldn’t seem to.

The late-night online guy quickly became a friend and we started to develop a bit of a relationship. He was friendly and fun to talk to, and he shared a little bit about himself and his fetishes. Yes, he had more than one and liked to combine them in his stories. Just like me, he didn’t have much of a social life and had a hard time meeting and talking to girls face to face. He found that it was much easier to talk to them online, but never took it beyond that.

My co-worker, on the other hand, was friendly but I had to work at getting much out of him. I already knew that he had a large audiobook collection and that gave me a place to start. I told him that I had started to play around with my new microphone and that I was having fun recording with it. I didn’t tell him what I was recording and how big my collection was. I convinced him to stop for coffee after work a few times and he started to relax around me a little.

The conversation online about the story I wanted to write got a little bit of interest as I worked on developing it. My character description became more detailed and I asked for suggestions on what to do to make her more appealing. I paid particular attention to what my online friend had to say. Some of the things were a little strange, but overall, not unbelievable. I altered her appearance slightly to take into account his preferences.

He had a thing for hair. Long hair, the longer the better. And the color was a factor too. His thing was for red hair, natural-looking, not artificial. He already knew that I had red hair and that may have contributed to his interest. Just for the fun of it, I began to grow my hair longer without telling him about it.

My co-worker and I began to have a ‘coffee-date’ on the last morning of our workweek each week before heading home. One week I actually called it a ‘coffee-date’ when I asked him if we were going to go for coffee.

That weekend, my online friend posted a new chapter and he used the term ‘coffee-date’ in it. Right away, I went out and bought a package of red highlighter for my hair just one shade redder than my natural color. It wouldn’t be a big change to how I looked, just enough to bring out my natural reddish hair a little. Then I sat down and recorded the latest chapter of his story using my altered voices and emailed it to him with a note saying that I had found it while ‘surfing the web’. I didn’t respond to his requests for information about where I found it.

The highlights in my hair turned out better than I hoped. I only used half the bottle and saved the rest for another application. The first day back at work, I made a point of talking to my co-worker as often as I could and using my hands to fluff up my hair a little while talking to him. I was a little disappointed that he didn’t seem to notice my hair, so I pulled a little more of my long hair forward over my shoulders each time.

During our lunch break, I sat so that I could keep one eye on him and one eye glued to my phone, hoping that my online friend would be there. I was disappointed again, because my friend didn’t log on and my co-worker was busy typing on his tablet.

By the end of the week, I was feeling pretty frustrated. My online friend hadn’t been on much and my co-worker didn’t seem to be paying as much attention to me as I hoped. To make myself feel better, I decided that I would braid my hair before going into work. When I saw how the highlights stood out in the braid, I felt much better. It was a busy night and everyone’s breaks got staggered.

For the first time, my co-worker asked me if we were still going to have our ‘coffee-date’, and he put a little emphasis on ‘date’. I guess he had been looking at me after all. When we got to the coffee shop, he suggested that I get us seats while he ordered our coffee. We like to sit near the back where it is quiet and there is one table that is sort of tucked away behind a short wall away from the others. Nobody was using it and I got it for us.

He waited for our orders to be ready, then brought them to the table. He seemed to be a little withdrawn, so I started talking about audiobooks. It gave us something to talk about that we have in common and he loosened up a little. I could tell that he had something on his mind, so I began to talk about females reading stories, something that we have talked about before, and that I have been experimenting with my new microphone. This gave him the perfect opportunity to mention that he found a part of an audiobook with a female reading it.

This was just the opportunity I had been looking for and I took it. I asked him if he would give me a copy. To my surprise, he had it with him and transfered it to my phone. He blushed a little as he said, “It’s not your typical story. I don’t know if you will like it. Someone I know sent it to me, but they won’t tell me where they got it.” I smiled at him and played with my braid a little, pulling it over my shoulder. I was pleased when he looks at it and then commented, “I like what you have done with your hair.” His blush deepened a little.

I decided not to push him any further and eased his discomfort. The conversation moved on to other topics. We had a good time taking and our coffee-date extended longer than usual. By now, my suspicions had become stronger that he was the same person as my online friend, but I was not going to force the issue.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: MetallicTaste on 19. January 2021, 21:50:18 PM
Nice start!!!!!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: retained on 19. January 2021, 23:52:27 PM
A great start. This could go a long way.
We are probably all guessing how it goes from here!

I like the way it is written with just the right amount of description.
Also it is much easier to read than some because it is broken up into paragraphs.

(The one thing I dont like about the way some other writers write is strange way that they seem to almost use the present when describing something that happened in the past ie saying things like 'he goes to the store and buys a drink' instead of saying 'He went to the store and bought a drink')

Anyway, now waiting for next chapter.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: TimeandBrace on 19. January 2021, 23:58:07 PM
Heheh, not a bad start!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 20. January 2021, 11:31:19 AM
I agree that the way some people write is hard to read. I am trying to write this story in the past tense and still find myself switching to the present tense too often. I have gone back and corrected that several times already.

I hold my writing to a higher standard because I have commented on things like that in the past. I also have the largest collection of braces stories on the internet and have seen some very bad writing since I started my collection. I have to walk the walk if I want to talk the talk.

I use three spellcheckers when I write. Most of my writing is done on Google Docs with the Grammarly add-on. Then I transfer it to the Grammarly app itself and do a second check. The final check is done using OpenOffice. All of them are free for the basic program and they catch most of the errors I make. Even then, I usually find something that has to be fixed when I go back to a story and read it again.

If someone finds an error in my stories, I am always willing to hear about it. I try not to be too critical of other writers writing habits, but sometimes I do have to say something.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 20. January 2021, 13:01:02 PM
Chapter 3

Each time that a new chapter was posted, I recorded it and sent it to my online friend. I still refused to tell him where they were coming from, but that I hinted that he might be able to find out. I noticed that his female character had changed herself slightly to be more like my character. And as a consequence, more like me. Some of the situations that they were in began to sound familiar.

As my hair grew longer, I did more with it, sometimes adding curls, other times a ponytail or braids. Then I began to copy what she did with her hair. If a chapter had her with pigtails, so did I. Some of the other people at work commented on my hair and I liked their comments, but really enjoyed it when my co-worker said something about my appearance. Our coffee-dates became more frequent, and each time I sent my online friend a new recording, I got a copy from the guy at work. Some of the other people in the chatroom obtained copies as well, so I couldn’t be sure where my co-worker was getting them.

I decided that it was time to take a risk. The next time that a chapter was posted, I recorded it and kept it until our next coffee-date. At the last minute, I chickened out and sent it to my online friend just before the end of our shift. My co-worker stopped on the way out and said he was going to be a few minutes late and to get us our usual table if I could. He also said that he would pick up our coffees when he arrived.

After he had given me the first chapter of the audiobook, I had told him that I found it interesting and we had discussed some of the new chapters after I had a chance to listen to them. I hadn’t told him that I was changing my hairstyle to match the character in the story and he hadn’t mentioned it either, but I knew he had noticed it.

Each chapter was fairly short and didn’t take very long to listen to. When he arrived at our table, he was smiling a little and had more than just our coffee on the tray. In the latest chapter of the story, the female character had her hair braided with a red ribbon running through it and I had copied that before going to work. As he sat down, he said that he had received a copy of the latest chapter of the audiobook.

There was no way that he could have gotten that unless he received it from my online friend or was that friend. There was no way that I could have known to braid my hair with the red ribbon unless I had read the story or heard the audiobook. Since he was the one that always gave me the audiobook, I couldn’t have listened to it yet. I knew it was a risk to braid the ribbon into my hair, but I figured it was worth it. As we started to talk, I said, “I have to confess something to you. I have been reading the stories for a while already. I peeked at your tablet a long time ago and copied the website that you were on. You aren’t mad at me are you?”

I waited for him to process the information I had just dropped on him, not quite sure what was going to happen. He sipped at his coffee, his expression changing several times. Finally he smiled at me and said, “That explains how you knew to braid a ribbon into your hair. It’s very nice, by the way.” I was so relieved that I had gotten away with the ribbon, and that he wasn’t mad at me for invading his privacy the way that I had. He still transferred the audiobook to my phone as we were talking.

From time to time, he seemed to get distracted by his thoughts. Finally, he pushed the muffin in my direction and asked me, “Can I ask you something personal?” When I nod, he continues, “Do you think it would be okay if I asked you on a real date? I know that we have been having coffee together for quite a long time, but this isn’t really a date, is it?”

I did something that I had wanted to do for a long time but had hesitated to do. I placed my hand on top of his and wrapped my fingers around it. “‘Yes’ to your first question. You can ask me a personal question whenever you want to, but I might not answer it. ‘Yes’ to your second question. You can ask me out on a date anytime you want to. And as for your last almost question. I don’t know how to answer that. If two people go out for coffee and one pays for everything, wouldn’t that be a date?”

He nibbled on his muffin, then sipped at his coffee, thinking about what I had just said. “If you look at it that way, I guess it would be a date.” A big smile appeared on his face. “Wow, I’ve been dating a hot girl for quite a while. Wow.”

We sat there for a while, nibbling on the muffins and sipping our coffee. I wasn’t sure what to say. He called me hot, something that I was not prepared for. “How about I take you out for supper at a restaurant. Nothing expense, maybe pizza?” He waited for me to answer.

I smiled at him. “Sure, but can we wait a couple of days? I’m not quite ready for our relationship to change yet.” I noticed his eyes had shifted to my mouth. I was used to people’s eyes dropping to my chest, but not my mouth, especially when I have a couple of buttons undone. After a little more discussion, we agreed to wait a week before talking about our pizza-date.

By the time that I drove home and logged onto the chatroom, the latest audio version of the story was spreading through the group, thanks to one of the tech guys setting up a cloud-share account. One of the big topics of discussion was where the audio versions were coming from. Everyone knew who was writing the story and that the author was also one of the first to receive the audio copy, but he wasn’t telling, or didn’t know, who was making them. Just for the fun of it, I suggested that it was some old guy living in a basement somewhere, changing his voice to make it sound different. After I hit enter, I realized that much of it was actually not that far off from the truth. I wasn’t old and I didn’t live in a basement, but I was changing my voice to make it sound different.

One popular idea was that it was a couple who were making the audio copies. There were two voices and they were always the same two, so it made sense. There were other theories, some pretty wild. Just about everyone agreed that it was a human doing the recording, there was just too much emotion in it to be computer-generated.

I was too tired to stay awake, so I went to bed.

Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 20. January 2021, 13:06:26 PM
Chapter 4

When I woke up, I noticed that there was a new chapter posted. There was also an email from my online friend letting me know that he had posted a new chapter. This chapter was not what I had expected. It was about her getting ready for a date. As soon as I read the chapter, I knew that I had a decision to make. The chapter was very descriptive in what she was wearing, and I recognized the outfit from our store. He practically described which aisle each item was located in.

Doing my hair to match the female character was one thing, dressing like her was a whole different dimension. It also pretty much confirmed that my online friend and my co-worker were the same person. They were completely different when I talked to them. I wasn't ready to start thinking of him as my boyfriend yet, but the way things were going, it might not be long. Something else that was in the story was a scene with her standing in her bathroom looking at herself in the mirror. It described her smile as being pretty, but slightly imperfect.

While I was thinking about what to do about our date, I recorded the latest chapter and emailed it to my co-worker. After I sent it, I realized that I had made a mistake. I sent it to the wrong email address. I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then got up and went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. The person looking back looked scared, and her teeth weren't that bad were they?

When I am stressed, I shop. I grabbed my phone, keys and purse, and was out the door. I had no plan of where to go, instinct took over and I drove to work. I began to walk up and down the aisles. There was the dress described in the latest chapter. I had to admit, it was very pretty. It wouldn't hurt to try it on.

When I looked in the mirror, something didn't look right. The dress was fine, it was the shoes that weren't working. So I changed my shoes to the pair described in the story. That looked better, but something still wasn't right. My legs were bare. The story described stockings, and not just any stockings, a particular colour and style. They were right where the story said they would be. The style of stocking couldn't be worn without the right lingerie, and that was right across the aisle from the stockings.

I looked at the lingerie that I was holding. I was almost at the point of no return. If I went back to the dressing room and put everything on, I would be right on the edge. Did I want to step over the edge?

My mind said, "No, Don't do it." My body said, "You want to do this. You haven't been on a date in a long time." My body won.

I stepped out of the dressing room and looked at myself in the mirror. Was the person in the mirror with the smile on her face really me. I could see that the description of her teeth was accurate, they weren't perfect and the slight imperfections were perfectly right for her face. Then I stepped over the edge. I took out my phone and sent a text to my hopefully soon to be boyfriend. "Can you meet me at the restaurant for pizza? I think we need to talk."

"One hour," was the reply.

I got there early and ordered a glass of wine to have something to do while I waited. I still hadn't finished it when he walked in. He had showered and changed into a nice outfit, casual and comfortable, and nice. I liked how he looked. A lot.

At first he didn't see me, so I stood up and waved. I waited to see what his reaction would be. I hadn't done much with my hair other than to pull it back and clip it out of my face, and my nails could have used a new coat of polish. My makeup had been freshened, but I knew that I could do better if I took the time. I put a brave smile on my face and said, "Let's get a table at the back where we can talk without being disturbed."

I led the way so that I didn't have to see what his expression was. It turned out that it was a good move. It gave him the opportunity to see me in the dress that he had described in his story. Before I could sit down, he reached past me and pulled out my chair, then waited to push it in for me as I sat down. It wasn't what I was expecting and took me by surprise.

Neither of us said anything for a while as I sat there with my wine glass. Finally I said, "I don't know where to start. Maybe you could help me out a little? Ask me something. What do you want to know first?"

His eyes dropped slightly, but not to where I am used to. His eyes dropped to my mouth. His first question took me completely by surprise. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

My mouth opened slightly and I tried to form an answer, but my mind was struggling to catch up. I smiled and nodded. It was a good start.

Our waiter arrived and asked if we were ready to order. My boyfriend asked him to give us a few more minutes to decide. That was just enough to break the tension I was feeling and I was able to begin to relax. We decided on a half-and-half pizza with some mutual toppings and a pitcher of Coke.

When the pizza came, the real conversation began. It turned out that he asked one question, which I would answer, then I would ask a question to be answered by him.

Once we got started, I found that he was much like his online personality. We already knew quite a bit about each other, so that made it much easier. Even though it was our first official date, it didn't have the awkwardness of one.

I was the one who finally brought up the subject of the story. It turned out that he liked writing stories and found that it was a good way to deal with his insecurities. He could place himself in a situation he would like to be in and explore the possibilities without the risk of being hurt.

The story had started out as one of those scenarios, but it had changed when I had started to talk to him at work. Then he had made a friend online and things changed again. He began to write about what was happening and began to add little things that he would like to happen. The character that I had created for my story attempt had appealed to him and he had used it in his story. At the same time, he had started to pay a little more attention to how I looked and saw a resemblance to my character, but didn't connect the two.

He liked to add things he found turned him on, to his stories, and hair was one of those things. When I started to do my hair the way that he was describing in his stories, he began to experiment with that.

He talked about some of the other stories that he had written, and what had happened in them. There were some that he had never posted because of the content. When I asked about them, he blushed and said, "I can't show them to you. They are just too embarrassing. They aren't realistic and could never happen."

I had to smile at that comment. "I don't know about that. Look what happened with your latest story." I stood up and gestured to what I was wearing. "You didn't do too bad with that one." I did a slow spin, not wanting the hem of my dress to rise too far. "How about we get out of here. I have something I want to show you at my place."

Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: MetallicTaste on 20. January 2021, 20:59:13 PM
I like to where is going, keep up the good work.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 21. January 2021, 12:02:34 PM
Reading A Story - 5

I waited for him at the front while he paid for our meal, then took his hand as we walked to my car. After asking for his phone, I typed my address into the map application and handed it to him. I wanted to do more than hold his hand, but I wasn't quite ready yet. He seemed to be reluctant to release my hand when I handed him his phone. I was the one that pulled back first.

We arrived at my place at just about the same time, so I waited until he parked, then took his hand again for the walk to my apartment. What I really wanted to do was link my arm with his but wasn't quite sure if I could handle that. Still, walking hand in hand was more than I had experienced in longer than I liked to think about.

My apartment was tidy for a change, as long as you didn't look in my bedroom. After he had a brief look at my apartment, I led him into the living room where my computer was. It was linked to my flat screen tv so that I could sit on the couch in comfort and type. This proved to be very convenient for us. We sat side by side as I logged on, then opened the audio program. Rather than try to explain what I had done, I played the latest audio file for him using the female voice, then switched it to the male voice.

I didn't look at him, I just waited for him to say something. He shifted beside me and took my face in his hands, turning it so that I was facing him. "That is amazing. You did this all on your own? And why my story? There are so many other stories that are much better than mine."

I told him about trying to write my own story, and how I started recording my thoughts. Then I put my latest attempt at writing on the screen. He looked at it for a while, then said, "Part of your problem is that you are not putting yourself into the story. Can I show you how I would write that scene?"

I pushed the keyboard in front of him and leaned against the cushions behind me. I didn't realize just what I had done until his eyes dropped to my body and a smile appeared on his face. "Very nice, and very distracting. Especially in that dress." My couch was fairly wide and I had just sprawled out on it.

He turned back to the coffee table in front of us and began to type. My coffee table had a top that lifted up and towards us, at just the right height to be comfortable to type on. I watched as he opened a new page and the words began to flow across the screen. What had taken me hours of labour only took him minutes to do, and he made it seem so easy. I wasn't paying attention to what he was writing, just watching him work was fascinating.

"Okay, what do you think about this?" He waited as I focused on the screen. As I began to read, a smile spread across my face. He had placed the characters in a living room and described how she was using her fully clothed body to seduce him. The end of it was how she kissed him. "It isn't that hard to write when you have an idea of what you want to happen in your story."

I had another decision to make, and it wasn't that hard to make. I rolled my body towards him, pushed him back and did my best to copy what he had written. I think that I didn't quite manage to copy the kiss right, but I sure did my best.

"You might have to rewrite the kiss a little. I couldn't seem to match what you wrote."

His smile was enough to show me that he was more than satisfied with my attempt.

"How about you show me some of your other stories? I read a couple of the stories you posted in the chat room and thought they were good."

He turned to the keyboard and began to type. "I hope that you don't find them too strange. Some of them have some pretty unusual things in them. I've spent a lot of time alone, and sometimes my mind goes to some strange places." The screen began to fill with a list of stories, and then he scrolled down, and down, and down. "I have been collecting stories for a long time. Most of these are not mine. I also have a couple of names that I have used so that I can write different types of stories. This is that collection of stories that people are looking for and can never find. Sometimes I will send a person the story that they are looking for if I have it in my collection, but I use a different email address so that I can remain anonymous."

It was not what I was expecting. I had thought that he would show me a couple of stories, but there must have been over a hundred stories listed. "How many are yours?" He just shrugged. "Don't you know?" He shook his head. "Do you have a favourite story?"

He began to blush. "I have several. Some stories have parts I like, but not the whole story. Others take too long to get moving and then just end suddenly."

"Do you have a short one that you like? One that is only a couple of pages long?"

He thought about it for a while, then began to scroll through the stories, finally clicking on one. A new screen opened and a story appeared. It was only two pages long and after glancing at it, I knew what I was going to do.

It was written from a female point of view and was the type of story I had been looking for. I pulled the mic in front of me and told him to sit back, relax and stay quiet. Then I read the whole story while the mic and computer recorded it, using my natural voice. There were a couple of places that I stumbled a bit with how to pronounce the words and some of them came out a bit garbled, but I did my best.

When I was done, I stored it on my hard drive. Then I linked to my stereo and played it for him over my speakers.

The sound quality was good and I had done a good job of adding expression to it, but I noticed each time I mispronounced a word or a word was not understandable. When it ended, I turned to him and asked, "So, what do you think? If I had more time, I would go back and fix a few things that I didn't do right? It was hard to get the mispronounced words right, and the part with the lisp was awkward to do." I paused briefly, then said, "Her lithp ith thomethin vat I feed to thork ong."

He tried very hard not to start laughing, and once he calmed down, said, "You have the right idea, you just don't have the pronunciation right. It's easier if you put your tongue on the top of your mouth when you are speaking. Or keep your tongue against your front teeth. Both will give you a lithp and they will be different listhpth."

When I tried it, it worked, but when I tried to read the parts of the story with a lisp in them, it came out too garbled. He rewrote them so that I could read them as they would normally be pronounced and I tried again. This time it was much more understandable, but it didn't seem quite right.

Then I had an idea. The female character in the story had an Essix retainer that was affecting her speech. I went to my bathroom and took out an old whitening kit and inserted the tray into my mouth. It was only the top tray, but that was all I could find. It didn't fit very tight and I had to use my tongue to hold it in. This time, when I read the lisping parts, it sounded a lot better.

I had recorded each attempt and we listened to this one several times, talking about what we liked about it and what could be changed.

He had been fidgeting and shifting around as we played around with the last recording. He had that look that he had something on his mind. Finally he said, "I have something to ask you. Would it be okay if we reenacted the kissing scene again?" I realized that this was his way of asking me for a kiss.

I started to move my hand to my mouth to remove the tray but he took my hand and said, "Leave it in. I want to try it like that." I lowered my hand and it landed on his hip. This time it was him that initiated the kiss. This kiss was so different from the last one. I had to use my tongue to hold the tray in place, and I felt his tongue brush against mine. Then he was using his tongue to hold the tray, or more accurately, to press the tray against my teeth as he explored them. This kiss just seemed to get better as we went along. I didn't want it to end.

I held onto him when he started to pull back, prolonging it for a second longer. It was me who said, "Wow," this time. "Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

He smiled, "I wrote that kiss in one of my stories a long time ago."

“See. Another one of your stories came true.” We both smile at that. “Now that we have corrected the errors in the audio, how about we put all the parts together into a complete story.”

We sat side by side on the couch as we worked with the files and I kept inching closer until I was pressed against his arm, then I took his arm and put it over my shoulder. He took the hint and his arm moved from my shoulder to my side so that he could pull me closer. The closer I got, the more his hand moved around my body. I had no problem with where his hand was, and since I was doing most of the work on the computer, it didn’t matter if he was distracted.

It took me longer than usual to put the file together because, quite frankly, I was getting distracted too. After the last kiss, I had taken the tray from my mouth and put it on the table beside me. Just as I was patching the last file into place, I slipped it into my mouth again. “Oh hay, let’th gib thith a thry.”

His eyes snapped from where his hand was, to my mouth and the smile on his face got bigger. I started the file playing and we listened to the final result. As the part with the lisp played, his hand moved up a little and I moved my arm out of the way. “I thin you goh thinth wew in han, don you? I lil lake you a coffee of the file.” I smiled at him as the double meaning dawned on him.

I moved my arm back into place, trapping his hand where it was. If he wanted to move his hand he could, but he made no effort to move it. I found that I could use my lip to hold the tray in place and when I said, “I thin we thould pauth before thinths get outh of han,” he flexed his hand slightly to let me know he understood.

I turned my face towards his and shifted my body away from him slightly. He followed me until we were about to fall over and then our faces connected. His lips felt so good against mine. The kiss started out gently and continued that way all the way to the end. He took his time exploring my mouth with his tongue, and his hand stayed around my body the whole time. I didn’t want it to end and reluctantly moved my arm so that he could sit upright again.

He was the one that suggested that he leave. He did have one last important question as he left. He wanted to know just how accurate the description of his character's outfit was. I told him I wouldn’t answer his question, but was smiling as he left.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: MikeB on 21. January 2021, 19:44:28 PM
I seldom comment on stories, but I too am enjoying this one. I like how you're taking the time to tell a full story, not rushing anything. Sometimes the anticipation is nearly as good as the actual event!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 21. January 2021, 20:39:34 PM
Chapter 6

The next chapter of the story appeared in the morning. It began with the couple going on a date, and followed what happened on ours fairly closely with a few differences. The pitcher of Coke changed to a bottle of wine and the pizza became spaghetti, which we shared. None of what we talked about was included, which I was glad wasn't included.

It was written from the male character’s point of view and dealt with how he felt about having a date with such a gorgeous girl. He went into great detail about not recognizing her at the restaurant, even though he looked for her. He made it seem as if she had been to a beauty salon. His description of her outfit was accurate to what I had been wearing, but he made her seem more glamorous than I had been. There was one difference that stood out, she was wearing glasses, and he was very specific in his description of them.

The story shifted to her apartment and the way that she seduced him. Okay, maybe I had done that a little, but his portrayal of the seduction was way better than what I had done. His description made me want to be there. He left out the part about recording the audio, but he did put in a part about her leaving him on the couch and coming back wearing a dental appliance. Instead of it being a whitening tray, he made it much more interesting by making it a set of Invisalign braces. He put in the part about her having a lisp and wrote it in such a way that it would be easy to pronounce those lisped words when I recorded it.

I took my time recording the whole chapter using the male voice, then went back and recorded the female parts using my altered female voice. For the parts with the lisp, I used my whitening tray again and used my lip to hold it in. It turned out better than I expected.

My emotions were confused though. Our date had been very nice and I wanted to do it again, but I was scared of what I would do if I got him back to my place again. It all seemed to be happening so fast. The solution I came up with was to send my online friend a message along with the latest recording. It seemed that it would give me a way to deal with what was happening so suddenly in my life.

As soon as the latest audio spread through the group, the comments started to appear. Overwhelmingly, they were about how the emotion had changed. It seemed as if there was more passion, and the lisp was a nice touch. There was some speculation about if the lisp was real or fake. It appeared that I was becoming somewhat of an internet mystery.

I did get an email from my boyfriend, but I was glad that he didn't expect me to respond to it. My online friend wasn't quite that patient. He wanted me to talk about things a little more, but to take my time. He would be working on another chapter of the story and would try to respond when he had a chance.

To distract myself, I tried working on my story. Some of the things that I had seen my boyfriend do while he was writing seemed to work for me. For the first time, I had something that looked like a story rather than a bunch of disconnected thoughts. I made a couple of changes to my character description that I thought might work and then set the whole story aside.

When I am stressed, I shop, so that is what I did. Rather than shop at where I work, I went to the mall. I wandered for quite a while, not really looking for anything in particular. My mind wouldn't settle down and the latest chapter of the story kept circulating through my mind. Several times, I found myself wandering through the optometry department of the stores. When I figured out what I was doing, I decided that actually looking for a pair of frames I liked wouldn't hurt. I needed a new pair of sunglasses anyway.

Now that I had a purpose for my shopping trip, I began to feel better. The benefits plan at work would pay a certain amount each year for glasses as long as they came from certain stores, so I always bought my sunglasses there. Even though they weren't prescription glasses, I was still able to use the allowed amount.

There was one store in the mall that was on the list of providers and I headed there. I spent quite a while looking at the selection available, trying to narrow it down and find something that I would want to wear. It wasn't until the salesgirl offered to help that I was able to make some progress. I began to describe what I was looking for and she quickly came up with an acceptable option.

She told me that they had some old stock on a display in the back that they were trying to get rid of and that she would show them to me. As soon as I saw them I knew just what I was looking at. They were a perfect match to the glasses in the story, and the lenses had a coating that changed when the light changed. I could wear them indoors as well as outside.

The decision to buy them was easy. Because of the benefits plan and the discount, they wouldn't cost me anything. I even had enough left over to get a second pair with a different colour coating on the lenses.

Even though I hadn’t spent much, I still decided to go home. I was feeling hungry, so did a quick stop for groceries, and a few things from the pharmacy. It didn’t take me long to prepare a meal and pop it into the oven.

The food wouldn’t be ready for at least an hour, so, to fill the time, I figured, why not have a shower. I had picked up a can of shave gel and some new razor heads. Now was as good a time as any to shave my legs. I hadn’t shaved them in a while and they had been a little hairy when I was wearing the stockings on our date. I started spreading the gel at my ankle and worked upwards to my knee, then shaved that area. I alternated legs until I had removed more hair than I was used to removing.

Normally I would put on sweats and a hoodie when at home, but that just didn’t seem right after my shower. I dug through my dresser and closet, looking for something to wear. I found a pair of stretchy jeans that I hadn’t worn in a long time and a long T-shirt that stretched to my upper-thighs. I had put on a couple of pounds since I had worn them last, so they fit me a little more snuggly than I remembered. It didn’t look right wearing my battered slippers dressed like that, so I put on a pair of slip-on heels. When I looked in the mirror, my image looked pretty good, the extra two or three pounds had gone to the right places. I didn’t normally take selfies, but this was one time that I would be glad I did.

When I put on my new sunglasses, I took a second selfie because I liked how they looked. My bedroom floor was a mess after I had dug through it, so I started to clean it up. There were shoes all over the place, so I started lining them up along the wall. I hadn’t worn many of them in a long time, so I started to try them on with the intention of getting rid of the shoes that didn’t fit or I didn’t like. It just seemed natural to take a picture each time so that I could see myself from a different angle. I did something that I hadn’t tried before, I set my camera on a tripod and linked it to my laptop. Even though the screen on my laptop wasn’t that big, it still gave me the ability to see how I was posed and change it a little, and the camera program on the computer allowed me to take pictures without having to press a button. I could take a sequence of pictures and they would be stored on the computer without me touching a button.
 
I had only tried on a few pairs of shoes when the oven beeped. The pair that I had on had a platform sole and the heel was about three inches higher. I didn’t remember where I got them or why I bought them in the first place. Since I had them on, I just wore them to the kitchen to take my food out of the oven. It was a new experience bending over to reach into the oven. I had to bend over farther and my balance was different. It was a feeling that I could get to like. Even sitting at the table with the heels on had a different feel to it.

As I sat there eating, I began to think about what my boyfriend had said about putting myself into the story. This might be a good time to try it. By the time that I was done eating, I had the basic idea already worked out.


It would take me a while to write my story, so I made a pot of coffee and grabbed a box of cookies from the cupboard. For the first time that I could remember, I was able to reach the bottom shelf above the counter without having to use a stool. That would have to be included in my story. When the coffee was ready, I put everything onto a tray and carried it to the living room. Bending over to place it on the coffee table involved me having to bend with my knees together to get low enough. The next thing I encountered was that I couldn’t get my knees under the edge of the table to type on the keyboard, but that was easy enough to solve. I just bent my legs at the knee and sat with them beside me on the couch. Without the tv screen being on, it made a nice reflective surface and I could see that the way that I was sitting was a rather appealing sight.

It didn’t take me long to get lost in writing my story. I started with a scene about working in the kitchen to prepare a meal while wearing the heels that I had on. While most of that section was not something that I had experienced yet, I left it brief.

The good part started as I described sitting at the table while eating and cleaning up after. Then I moved on to being in the living room, and how it felt to be sitting the way that I was. Finally, I let my imagination take a turn and wrote a scene where her boyfriend showed up unannounced and she met him at the door wearing her new glasses. I relied on the three kisses that my boyfriend had already given me for the scene with the kiss.

It took me the rest of the day to write it, but I found that instead of writing something and deleting it, just to try again, I was changing words to make it sound the way I wanted it to. It only amounted to two pages, but it was more than I had managed so far.

I recorded it and before I could chicken out, put it on the cloud server. Then I went to the chatroom using a guest account and mentioned that there was a new story. It took a while for the comments to start, but I was relieved when they did. Just about all the comments were positive, with the negative comments being that the story was too short. I looked for comments from two accounts but neither one seemed to be saying anything.

It was just about dark outside when there was a knock on my balcony door. My apartment was on the third floor and the only way to get to my balcony from the outside was from the roof beside my apartment. My couch faced the glass doors which took up half the wall. I had found it comfortable the way that I was sitting with my legs tucked beside me, just the way that I had described in the story. As the sun was setting, I had put on my new sunglasses to reduce the glare.

I realized that I was sitting just like the character in my story, dressed like her, and my boyfriend had just arrived at my door unannounced. I even had the glasses on. I couldn't let him stand out there, so I carefully stood up and walked to the door. The door was unlocked and partially open to let the evening breeze in, so he could have opened it himself, but my story said that my character had let the boyfriend in, so he waited until I opened it all the way. There was no way that I could have possibly written the kiss that followed, I just hadn't ever experienced one like it before.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: retained on 22. January 2021, 21:02:56 PM
Enjoying reading. Keep it going.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: caster72401 on 23. January 2021, 22:30:38 PM
This is definitely a bit different of a story. But I’m really enjoying it, can’t wait to see where this goes!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Sparky on 24. January 2021, 01:26:16 AM
I agree that the way some people write is hard to read. I am trying to write this story in the past tense and still find myself switching to the present tense too often. I have gone back and corrected that several times already.

Usually I write a story in the past tense, but sometimes it's nice to make things different, by writing it in the present, kinda like an ongoing commentary.

But yes, if your story goes more than a couple of pages, you have to be so careful about things like the tense. Another one is getting names wrong.... in my latest posting I had to make a last minute edit when I got a character's name completely wrong! I have so much respect for people who write proper book-length stories!

As for this story.... I'm aware of the sort of the conversations that were happening with MikeB, so it makes this story so much more interesting!

Keep up the good work!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: m1090y on 27. January 2021, 14:27:34 PM
I ran this story through a text to speech app, using a premium, natural female voice, and enjoyed the story while doing some things that did not require much mental effort.  It was kind of strange listening to a story about forum stories getting used as audio books, which is what I was doing.  Unlike the main character, I sometimes get stresses in sentences being put on the wrong words, but it is easy to make the correction in one's head.

I really love the concept of the story.  It's written in a way that really keeps my attention.  I'm really looking forward to the next few chapters of the story.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 31. January 2021, 18:16:01 PM
Chapter 7

After the kiss ended, he had me pose for him on the couch just the way that I had been when he knocked on my patio door. He said that he wanted to remember that moment for the rest of his life and took several pictures of me posed like that.

I wanted him to stay and I could tell that he didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t trust myself not to take things further than either of us were prepared to go. My stop at the pharmacy had shown me that I was prepared to take it farther than was good at this point, so I reluctantly kissed him goodbye and gently pushed him out the door.

To distract myself from my urges, I cleaned up my bedroom, neatly arranging all my shoes against the wall and hanging my clothes in the closet. When that didn’t work, I sat down at my computer and tried to write either another chapter or a new story. No matter what I tried, I just couldn’t write anything that was any good.

I went to the chatroom and saw that my online friend was signed on, so I chatted with the group for a while and then we started a private chat. I explained what had happened and what I was feeling for my boyfriend. The advice he gave me was to write a story about it and see what I would come up with. He also suggested that I take some time to let my emotions cool down.

For the next week, I tried to work on my story and made a little progress, but I didn’t make as much progress as I would have liked. Each day, before I went to work, I choose a different pair of shoes from along the wall and paired them with an outfit. I had to change into my work clothes when I got to work, but I always arrived early and waited until my boyfriend showed up so that he could see what I was wearing. He started showing up early too, and we had time to relax before starting work. He also picked up coffee for us each day.

The schedule had shown that it would be a busy week, so I had brought my tablet and tried to work on my story during my breaks. The few times that we had managed to coordinate a break, we had sat at the same table across from each other with our tablets. He seemed to smile at me a lot as he was typing. He wouldn’t tell me what he was doing but he seemed to be enjoying it.

Then my online friend posted another chapter. It made reference to being inspired by what I had put in my story and described it from the male character’s point of view. It was posted just as I was getting ready for work and I didn’t have time to read it all. When I got to work, my boyfriend was waiting for me and asked if I had read the story yet. When I said ‘no’, he said that I should let him hang onto my tablet until after work so that I wouldn’t have a chance to read it and wouldn’t be tempted to. The shift seemed to drag and I couldn't wait for it to end.

The start of the chapter was so enticing. I had read as far as him being pushed out the door and him getting a look at the mess in her room. He detailed how the shoes were lined up against the wall and which pairs he had liked. The next part dealt with the way that she kissed him before pushing him out the door. I hadn't had the time to finish that part.

Our breaks lined up, so it was even more frustrating to watch him working on his tablet. He had me sit across from him and we played footsie as he smiled at me. We talked a little but kept it to work-related things. By the time that we walked out the door, I was desperate to get him into the coffee shop and get my tablet back. He refused to give it back until we had our coffees and were sitting down. This time he sat beside me and I snuggled up against him as I began to read the story. I started from the beginning, wanting to enjoy it all.

When I scrolled down to the part with the goodbye kiss, his arm went over my shoulder and he snuggled closer to me. After reading about the kiss, I turned to him and said, "Is that really how you feel that the kiss was?" His response was nonverbal. He kissed me.

The story moved on to her getting ready for a date. It was told from her perspective and included a very detailed description of what she chose to wear. Some of the things I knew he had never seen me wear and he hadn't been in my bedroom, but they were mentioned earlier in the story. The chapter ended with them going on a mystery date. He wouldn't tell her where they were going, only that it would be someplace unusual and she would need an open mind to get the most enjoyment from it.

I turned to my boyfriend with an uncertain look on my face. Up until now, I had done things to copy the story or had read about things that we had already done. This was the first time that he had really written about what could happen. When I turned to him, he had an expectant look on his face.

Rather than say anything, I logged onto the chat room. A few seconds later my online friend logged on as well. I glanced over at my boyfriend, then started typing. It felt comfortable talking to my online friend and being able to take the time to think about what I wanted to say. He took his time responding to what I wanted to know and in the end, I had a much better idea of what I wanted to do. My boyfriend had his arm around me the entire time and occasionally gave me a tender squeeze.

Then I turned to my boyfriend and said, “I have a problem that I need your help with. I keep trying to write more for my story, but I can’t seem to come up with anything that I am satisfied with. Can you help me?”

He looked into my eyes and then down to my mouth and teeth. “Show me what you have written so far.” A flick of my finger opened the story file and we sat there as he read my latest attempt. “I think I see a part of your problem. When you are writing about what your female character is thinking of doing, is that something that you would be willing or interested in doing? Have you ever done something like that?”

I had to think about that for a while before I could respond. “I don’t know. It’s been a while since I dated anyone and even then, we didn’t date for long and weren’t that close. I never found someone that I felt compatible with until now.”

That brought a smile to his face. “I have a suggestion for you. Write about your last shopping trip and describe what you felt, what you did and why. Place yourself in your character’s shoes, but describe it from her point of view. See what you can come up with. Try it now and I will help you if you get stuck.”

For the next hour, we sat side by side, my boyfriend’s arm around me as I typed. A few times he stopped me and had me add more detail to something that I had just written. The part about looking for the particular sunglasses brought a smile to his face when I went into detail about what prompted her to buy them. The story wasn’t very long, so I continued with what she did at home after shopping. The part about the shower was very brief, so he had me expand it and add more detail. His arm had gradually moved from my shoulder to my upper back and his hand rested on my side underneath my arm. He moved a little closer as my description became more detailed. I blushed a little as I described how much hair there was to remove and why she did it, but I kept right on writing until I felt that I was done.

When I started on describing what she decided to wear, he wanted me to give more detail, but I told him that it was more fun to leave some things to the reader’s imagination and left it a little vague, although I did write about how she felt getting dressed up a little and wearing the heels around her apartment. I literally put myself in her shoes, or maybe a better way to put it would be that I put her in my shoes, since that is what I had described. I decided to end the chapter there.

He surprised me by asking if he could have a copy of the chapter, as well as the file for the story that the audio file had come from, to add to his collection. I made him promise that he would not share it with anyone, as it had more detail than I was comfortable about people knowing. He promised me and sealed his promise with a rather nice kiss, which I gladly participated in.

Neither one of us had said anything about the date mentioned in the story. I wanted to think about it before saying anything. My online friend had given me some good advice by saying to wait until I was ready to do anything about it. I could tell that my boyfriend wanted to ask me about the date, but didn't quite know what to ask. We both had things to do, so went our separate ways after the kiss.

I was a little too wound up to sleep after the coffee date, so I sat down at my computer and began making lists of things I had done, things I would like to do and things I would be willing to do. A second list contained places. By the time I had temporarily finished with the second list, I was feeling tired, so I brushed my teeth. I took a close look at them, remembering how my boyfriend had looked at them at the coffee shop. They didn't look bad, but there were a few things that could be improved on.

It didn't take me long to fall asleep and I had a couple of pleasant dreams. When I woke up, fragments of my dreams remained in my mind, so I wrote them down before they faded completely.

As I was doing my grocery shopping for the weekend, I thought about trying to write another chapter for my story. By the time that I arrived home, the outline for my story was in place. I went through my outfits and carefully selected what I would have my character wear, then started to write my story. The idea was that she wanted to do something special for her boyfriend and decided that she would get her hair coloured to make it a little more appealing to him. Without her knowing it, her boyfriend found out where she was having it done and called them and changed the colour to one he liked better. The story ended with him showing up and taking her out for a romantic dinner.

When I was satisfied with the wording and structure of the story, I called my salon and booked an appointment for the next afternoon, telling them that I hadn't decided on the exact colour to do and that I might have my boyfriend call and let them know what I had decided. I gave them his name in case he did call. All of the details for the appointment were added to the story, and then I posted it to the group. I knew he saw it because he was logged in. Before any responses were posted about my story, I logged off.

I was committed now, the next step was up to my boyfriend. I slept well and spent the morning recording the last chapter of my friend’s story, using both the male and female voices, then uploaded it to the cloud server. There was still too much time before the afternoon appointment, so I played around with the male voice until it sounded similar to my boyfriends and used my natural voice to do a recording of my latest chapter and emailed it to my boyfriend, adding a note that it was for his ears only.

To kill a little more time, I had a long bath and removed the little bits of hair that had grown back before getting ready for my hair appointment. I timed my arrival so that I would walk through the doors just in time for my appointment, and as soon as I arrived, was escorted to the chair. The girl colouring my hair gave me an inquisitive look and asked if I was sure that I wanted to do this. I just smiled and nodded. I wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen but I had to trust that my boyfriend did.

When she was done colouring my hair, she started to roll my long hair onto a variety of different sized curlers. Before she put me under the dryer hood, she said, "Someone must really care for you, because your whole appointment has been paid for in advance. They left a message for you. 'Sit back and relax.' I wish I would be treated as well."

While my hair was drying, I was given a Mani/Pedi treatment, with the colour of the polish matching the new colour of my hair. She left my hair in the curlers as she did my makeup, again the shades working well with my new hair colour. She kept me facing away from the mirrors as much as possible until she was finished. The finishing touch was a hint of perfume after I put my shoes on. My online friend had suggested that I wear open-toed heels for my salon appointment, and I realized that it was a wise suggestion. My feet looked so nice with the shiny polish on my toes. Then she turned my chair to face the mirror and I gasped as I got my first look at myself. I looked beautiful.

Then a familiar face appeared in the mirror from behind me. I spun my chair around and stood up. "You did this for me? Why? What did I do to deserve this?"

"Yes. Because you talked to me. Because you were willing to let me, and because this is how I have always seen you, even if you didn't see yourself the way that I did."

This prompted me to kiss him and I used as many of the descriptions from the stories that I could remember. I must have done a pretty good job of it, because the people in the salon started to clap and whistle. He escorted me out of the salon on his arm and we drove off in his van.

So far, things had turned out better than what I had written. I could only wonder what the rest was going to be like.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 02. February 2021, 19:09:37 PM
Chapter 8

Before we drove off, he had opened my door for me, assisted me as I got in and then had buckled me in. He had made sure that the seatbelt had fit properly and comfortably across my body, his hands lingering briefly on my body as he had adjusted how the straps lay. The belt across my chest had a fuzzy sleeve surrounding it and he took his time positioning it so that it rested on my shoulder and down across my chest. The material of the sleeve felt very nice against the areas of exposed skin that my outfit didn't cover. Almost as nice as his hands did as he adjusted the belt.

While he was getting himself buckled in, I folded down the sun visor in front of me and looked at myself in the mirror. I couldn't believe that I looked like I did. I had always had some red in my hair, but this was a distinct change. It was still the same red, only more of it. There were still some hints of brown, but now they were highlights only.

There had always been a little bit of a wave in my hair and there had been more as it had grown longer. Now it was all waves and curls and there were a few tight curls that framed the sides of my face and draped over my shoulders. I had worn small hoop earrings to the salon and they peeked out between the curls, flashing gold among the red.

My makeup was flawless. Everything that had been done went with my new hair colour and made my eyes stand out. My lips looked spectacular and so kissable when I pursed them. I smiled at myself in the mirror and my eyes went to my slightly imperfect teeth. Even they looked better with the way my lipstick was done, somehow seeming as if they enhanced my look rather than detracting from it.

I looked over at my boyfriend and saw him watching me and trying not to laugh. I couldn’t blame him, I had been making faces in the mirror. I blew him a kiss as we drove off. I took the opportunity to look at the inside of the van. It seemed to be an expensive van for someone that worked where we did. Rather than bench seats, there were two high-backed bucket seats like the one I was seated in, and straps in the cargo area that looked as if they were custom-made to hold something specific. There were seatbelts where the rear bench normally would be.

We drove through the downtown area where most of the good restaurants were to the business district, mainly office buildings and commercial stores that sell to other businesses. We pulled up to a tall building and my boyfriend punched in a code on a keypad, then drove through the wide door into an underground parking area, parking beside an elevator. He opened my door, unbuckled my seatbelt for me and helped me out of the van. It was nice to have the hand helping me out because I was not used to wearing heels that tall and my jeggings were a little tighter than I remembered them being. I had dressed for a special date, not fancy but comfortable and showing off my assets more than I usually would. I had dressed the way that I had described my character dressing in my story, hoping that my boyfriend would show up at the salon.

He pulled out his wallet and swiped it over the elevator controls and the extra-wide door opened, not into a freight elevator as I had expected, but a wood-panelled passenger elevator. He didn’t even push any buttons when the doors closed and we began to ascend. The elevator took us all the way to the top floor without any stops. When the doors opened, there was a set of glass doors across the hall from us and they opened as we approached them. He led me, arms linked, to a raised wood-panelled counter, with a very nice looking woman a few years older than us, sitting behind it.

She looked up and smiled at him and said, “We have your table ready, and the food will be ready in about half an hour. You can help yourselves to whatever you would like to drink when I seat you.” The reason for the raised counter became apparent when she pushed herself back from the counter and rolled out from behind it and down a short ramp beside it. I didn’t realize it until we began to follow her, but the floor beside the counter had been sloped to meet the ramp.

As she rolled from behind the counter, her legs and feet came into view. My eyes were drawn to the shoes that she was wearing. They had to be custom-made because I had never seen a pair like them before. The left shoe had a built-up sole and heel and the sides of both shoes had metal supports worked into the design of the shoes and extended beneath the hem of her skirt. The sole of the right one was only about an inch thick and had a heel that looked taller because of the design, but was only a little bit higher. The chair that she was sitting in seemed to just be a part of her body the way that she moved it around.

We followed her through a set of doors and into a dining room, then out to a patio on the top floor of the building. She escorted us to a table, surrounded on three sides by plants, and indicated where we could get whatever we wanted to drink. It seemed a little odd that there didn’t seem to be anyone to serve us, but then I realized that it actually was nice that we wouldn’t be interrupted.

My boyfriend watched as the hostess spun her chair around and wheeled back towards her counter, then pulled out my chair and waited for me to sit before pushing it in for me and sitting down beside me. I looked at the view of the city from where we were sitting and had to admire the view. There was a basket of breadsticks and a pitcher of water with glasses beside it, in the middle of the table. After asking me if I would like something else to drink, he went to the counter and brought us a pitcher of Coke.

I had to admit, the date so far had been a little unusual, but in a very interesting way. And then it got better. We talked about whatever happened to interest us until our meal arrived. And what a meal it turned out to be. It seemed to had a little bit of everything. If he had taken me to a different restaurant, it would have been called a sample-platter, but there was nothing sample about this platter. Everything on the platter had something to either dip into or spread on it, and everything was cooked to perfection or laid on a bed of ice to chill it.

As we were eating, the sun went down and the lights in the city came on. There was always enough light around us for us to see what was on the table without being bright, and we seemed to be in our own little world.

I finally brought our conversation around to the stories that we were writing. I did most of the talking and he seemed content to let me do it. Some of what we talked about had been discussed before, but I went into deeper detail about what I had done and why. The parts about colouring my hair to match his story and wearing things that he had put into his story were expanded on, then I talked about how much fun it had been to write about our date and what I had expected, and what had actually happened.

Then I turned to my boyfriend and said, “I have given this a lot of thought and I have come to a decision. With everything that you have done so far, it has exceeded my expectations, so I want to enact your latest chapter. I want to go on the mystery date with you.” Then I leaned over and tried to copy all of the kisses that he had written about in his stories. I had to move to his chair because some of the kisses needed more bodily contact than I was able to get from my chair.

When I asked how much the supper had cost and how he could afford it, he just smiled and said, “Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that, it wasn’t as much as it appeared to be and I know people that are willing to help me. The hostess is someone that I have helped in the past.”

Our date didn’t end there. We went back to my place and I sprawled out on the couch just like I had when he surprised me at the balcony door, only this time I used him to lean against instead of the end of the couch. We spent some time on the computer working on our stories a little and playing around with the voices that I used to record the stories. Rather than use the old male voice, we created a new one using his voice and altered it a little so that no one would recognize it. We also stored a copy of his normal voice so that I could use it if I wanted to record a chapter for his ears only.

We didn’t discuss when we would enact his mystery date.

Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 02. February 2021, 19:14:50 PM
I always appreciate when people comment on my stories, even if I don't say anything about the comments. They help me to improve what I write and how I write. I write about what interests me and am happy when other people enjoy what I have written.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: MetallicTaste on 09. February 2021, 21:24:48 PM
I've been enjoying the story so far, keep up the good work!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: PlainJane on 10. February 2021, 21:18:29 PM
Also enjoying it, very well written.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: prahm on 10. February 2021, 23:10:13 PM
I have enjoyed the story
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 13. February 2021, 18:37:42 PM
Chapter 9

For the next week, I worked on the latest chapter of my story, making a little progress, but not really getting anywhere. My problem was that I  couldn't seem to be able to put myself into the story. Halfway through the week, a new story appeared, this one posted by my boyfriend. It was all about a student whose teacher was injured during the summer break and returned to class in a wheelchair while she was in rehab. She encouraged her students to volunteer at the hospital and he ended up volunteering in the rehab department with the hope that he might get to be around her. It didn't work out that way, but he enjoyed what he was doing and continued to volunteer after she recovered.

There was also an update on the previous chapter from my online friend. I read through it and found an update to her outfit for the “blind date”. My curls didn't last very long and I did take the time to add some, but it wasn't the same. The colour stayed and I was able to bring it out a little more by using a more expensive shampoo and conditioner. And of course, I still had the nail polish on my fingers and toes, which I added a clear topcoat to so that it would last longer.

I had worn all of my more practical shoes to work and had found several pairs that I really liked, so had worn those pairs in rotation. I had set aside the outfit and shoes described in the story about the blind date in anticipation of the opportunity to go on the date. The suspense was really getting to me, so I asked my boyfriend when we could go on it.

His smile at my question was so nice to see, and his response was even more welcome. "We can do it tomorrow morning if you want. I just have to make one call and everything will be ready. Are you sure that you are up for this? It may be more than you are ready for."

He looked at my eyes as he waited for my answer. It was a change from looking at my mouth. "I will just have to trust you, won't I. You haven't done anything that I haven't enjoyed so far, and have far exceeded my expectations most of the time. Is there anything special I need to do or bring?"

"Just dress like the character in the story, and be sure to bring your sunglasses, you will need them." The look on his face was one that I hadn't seen before. It was a mix of excitement, anticipation and uncertainty, combined with a few other emotions.

The rest of the shift seemed to fly by. I was so excited that I found it hard to get to sleep, so I had a long bath and got myself all cleaned up for the morning, including removing any hair that had grown back. The bath worked and I fell asleep easily when I lay down.

My boyfriend had let me know that he would pick me up mid-morning and that we would have a late lunch together at an unusual place. I had a late breakfast and was dressed and ready to go when he arrived. Once again, he took my hand and escorted me to the van, took his time fastening my seatbelt and adjusting it across my chest. Before we set off, he sent me a file from his phone and said, "Read this while we are driving. It will explain a little about what is going to happen on our blind date."

What he had transferred was another chapter from his story. It continued from where the last chapter stopped and detailed what some of the training was to be a volunteer at the hospital, then started on what advanced training had been provided to work in the rehab unit. I had only been able to read about halfway through when we arrived at our destination.

I had been grinning at some of the descriptions in the story and had laughed a few times. He had looked over at me more than once, and had a big smile on his face when he came around to my side and undid my seatbelt, then helped me out of the van. He took my hand and we walked through the underground parking lot to a set of doors that said, 'Authorized Personnel Only'.

I was beginning to think that his wallet was magical, because every time he waved it over something, a door opened. He led me down a hallway and into an office with an unusual chair. We had been talking as we walked and I had told him how far I had read and what I thought about the story so far.

As I sat in the chair, he asked me, "Are you sure that you are ready for this?"

I nodded my head even though I wasn't quite sure what I was getting myself into. "You haven't done anything to me that I haven't enjoyed. This will just be something else for me to experience, something that I will just have to trust that I will enjoy."

Then a lady dressed in a white lab coat with a hospital's name stitched on the pocket came into the room. She smiled at my boyfriend and said, "You're right on time." Then she turned to me and asked, "Are you ready to start? This is going to take a while, so sit back and relax. When was the last time that you had your eyes tested?"

I just shrugged, not sure when it was.

"Did they put the drops in your eyes and did you have any adverse reaction to it?" she asked.

I replied, "They did, and things were a little blurry for a while and I had to wear sunglasses for the rest of the day."

She smiled at me. "It's good that you have been through this exam before. It makes it easier if you know what to expect. I'm going to do an eye exam first, before we proceed with the rest of the training."

I looked at my boyfriend with a puzzled look. I didn't know quite what she was talking about, but he sat down beside me and took my hand. "You didn't read quite that far in the story. I've been through this as part of being trained as a volunteer. I quite enjoyed it and I think you will too. I'll be with you the whole time. We can stop anytime that you want to."

I turned back to her and said, "Okay, let's start."

She had me read from the chart on the wall, the top line first, then farther down until I couldn't make out what the letters were. She put a machine in front of my eyes and had me do it again, this time with different lenses in front of my eyes. She seemed pleased with the results. Then she moved the machine away and tilted the chair back. She placed a couple of drops in each of my eyes and things went blurry. "Try to look straight ahead at the black circle on the ceiling." She shone a light into my eyes. "Everything looks good. Your eyes are very healthy. Now for the interesting part. I am going to put contacts onto your eyes. You probably haven't worn contacts before, so it will take a little getting used to. Did you bring your sunglasses? You are going to want them for the rest of the day."

My boyfriend gave my hand a squeeze and said, "I made sure that she brought them." Then I felt him breathe on my ear as he quietly said, "Things are going to get dark now. Don't panic, it is all a part of what I planned for this date."

I felt her hands on my face as she spread my eyelids a little and she placed something over my eye. Suddenly it was completely black on one side. She repeated it on the other side and I was unable to see. "Blink a few times and see if they feel okay." I blinked several times, and even though it felt strange, the lenses were comfortable.

"They feel fine," I replied.

"I'll be here for the rest of the day. If you have any problems or they start to bother you, come see me right away. You two can stay here for a while until you get used to the contacts if you want. I'm going to go for lunch and then I have a couple of patients to see on the ward." I heard her heels tapping on the floor as she left the room.

I turned to where I thought my boyfriend was sitting and asked, "Now what? I can't see anything!"

I could hear him trying not to chuckle as he said, "Now we go for lunch."

"How? I can't see!" I squeezed his hand, and he caressed it gently.

He took my sunglasses and gently placed them on my face. "You'll just have to let me help you then." I moved my legs to the edge of the chair and put my feet on the floor, then tried to stand. I began to sway, so I sat again. "It is going to take your brain a little while to adjust to not having your eyes to help balance you. Use my arm to steady yourself." His voice seemed to be moving around me. He took my hand and placed it on the inside of his bent arm just below his elbow.

This time when I tried to stand, his arm gave me a point of reference and I was able to steady myself easier. "Ready to try walking?" I nodded and we took a few steps. It was a good thing that I was wearing low heels, because I found that I wasn't completely steady on my feet. After several hesitant steps, I found that having his arm guiding me was working, I could maintain my balance and began to take bigger steps. Even though he was in control of the direction we were going, I was the one setting the speed.

"Do you think that you are ready to go for lunch?" I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. We walked through the door and into the hallway. Even though I couldn't see, my ears seemed to be picking up sounds better and I could hear a change in the sounds around us as we left the room. My ears were compensating for my lack of sight. I became more confident and my stride became longer until we were walking at a more normal pace.

My nose also seemed to be compensating for my lack of sight and I guided us towards the smell of food. I could tell that I was the one guiding us because of the way I was putting pressure on different parts of his arm. The smell got stronger until we entered a large room and I heard other people talking. I lost all sense of direction and he took over again.

When we reached the serving line, he began to describe what was available to eat. I got the feeling that this wasn't the first time that he had done this from the way that he explained what was available. He took a tray and placed the food items that I selected onto it. I think that he must have waved his magic wallet over something, because we didn't stop moving until we reached a table. He set the tray on the table and then positioned me beside a chair and pulled it out for me, waited until I begin to sit and pushed it in for me. I heard him slide a chair close to me and sit.

"Do you want to try eating by yourself or would you like me to feed you?" That seemed like a rather odd question until I realized that I have no idea where my food was.

"This is going to sound a bit odd, but I don't know how to feed myself. I think it would be better if you feed me." That brought a chuckle from him. It was rather strange to have him feed me. He cut everything up as we ate and shared everything. He alternated between us, one bite for me and then one for himself. As our meal progressed, I found that I was enjoying having him serve me that way. It was actually kind of romantic in an odd way.

We didn't always manage to coordinate our movements and I ended up with food on my lips more than once. He took the time to wipe my mouth when it happened, and he seemed to spend more time than was necessary wiping my lips. A few times, I parted my lips and trapped his fingers between them.

When we were done eating, he left me sitting there while he took our dirty dishes away, and I began to panic a little. When he returned, he found me gripping the edge of the table. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you alone like that."

It felt so nice when he took my hand and placed it on his elbow again. We spent the next hour or so walking around the hospital. He described things everywhere we went. He took me to the flower garden in the center of the hospital and had me smell some of the flowers and plants. Without being able to see them, I had to use my other senses to experience them.

It seemed that very little time had passed when he said, "We need to return to the doctor's office soon. She has to remove the contacts and check your eyes again." We took our time walking back to the office and an idea kept building in my mind.

By the time that we got back, it had fully formed. She removed the contacts and checked my eyes, which had returned to normal by then. When she was done, I asked my boyfriend to get me something to drink from the machine down the hall. I wanted him out of the room for a little while when I'm asked her a few questions.

As soon as he left, I asked her, "Would it be okay if I kept those contacts? I had such an enjoyable time this afternoon, and I wouldn't mind doing it again sometime." She smiled at me and said that it would be fine, as long as I followed a set of instructions on how to take care of the contacts and my eyes correctly. By the time that he returned with my drink, she had prepared a kit for me to take home that included the contacts and sample bottles of everything that I would need. She also had me put the contacts back in and take them out so that she was confident that I would be able to do it myself.

As we were leaving the hospital, I stopped at the bathroom and put them back in. It was a struggle to get out of the bathroom, but I managed to do it. I couldn't see his face when I made it through the door, but the kiss that followed sure said a lot. I think that he took the long way back to the van, because it took us a while to walk there and I smelt the flowers a couple of times on the walk.

Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 13. February 2021, 18:41:55 PM
I appreciate the people who have commented on my stories. It shows me that there are people who are enjoying them. Even a comment about something that you didn't like is helpful. It may not change what I am going to write, but it does show me that my story has been read.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: PlainJane on 14. February 2021, 01:10:37 AM
It is definitely being read - it would make a great novel, I would binge-read it!  :)
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: napacaster on 14. February 2021, 05:39:33 AM
Great story! A very enjoyable read. Thanks!!!!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: caster72401 on 16. February 2021, 15:31:49 PM
I like where this is going, can’t wait for more!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: caster72401 on 10. March 2021, 15:21:44 PM
I really hope you will continue this!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 30. March 2021, 05:42:52 AM
Chapter 10

We finally arrived at the van and he assisted me into my seat. So many of the things that he did and how he moved began to make more sense now that I was unable to see. Everything that he did seemed to be to keep me relaxed as we had walked, especially how he guided me and yet let me set the pace. He buckled me in and took the time to adjust the belt around my body and over my chest, maybe more than was necessary, but still nice, since I was unsure how to do it without being able to see. I could probably have figured out how to do it myself, but it was so much more enjoyable having him do it. A better word might be 'stimulating'.

I was most definitely being stimulated. The first time that I had my sight taken away, it had been involuntary and a bit of a disorienting experience. This time I had done it deliberately and I had a better idea of what to expect. I was enjoying the experience of being temporarily blind this time, more than I expected to.

It was still a strange experience driving through the city to my place. I had no idea where we were. We talked the entire trip and I kept our conversation on other things so that he wouldn't have a chance to describe where we were driving.

When we arrived at my place, I waited for him to come around to my side of the van and unbuckle me, then took his hand and ran mine up his arm until I reached his elbow, after getting out of the van. When we reached the doors to my building, I fumbled with the keys until he asked if he could help. I gladly let him take them and told him which key to use. I did the same when we reached my apartment.

As soon as we were inside, I let go of his arm and started to feel my way along the wall of my apartment. I expected him to follow me, but he stopped moving as soon as the door closed and after a few seconds said, "Would you mind telling me where the light switch is? It would help if I could see. You may know where things are, but I don't have that advantage." That is when I realized just how late it was.

Rather than tell him where the light switch was, I followed his voice back to where he was and took his hand, placed it on my elbow the way that he had done with mine and headed for my bedroom. It became a case of the blind leading the blind. It isn't until we reached my bedroom that I finally turned on a light. I sat on the edge of my bed and held out my foot, then said, "pick out a pair of shoes for me to wear. It doesn't matter which pair you select, as long as you like how I look in them, and you have to put them on my feet for me."

I listened as he walked to my closet and began to open boxes. That told me that he was looking for my taller heels. All the shoes that I normally wore were in a rack against the wall. It wasn't long before I felt my foot being lifted and the shoe being removed to be replaced by another one. When my foot was returned to the floor, I smiled. My foot was significantly higher off the floor. He repeated the procedure on my other foot, then took my hand and gently pulled me to my feet, placing my hand on his elbow.

The difference in heel heights was evident as we walked to the living room and he guided me to the couch, where I positioned myself on the couch in what I hoped is a sexy pose. I could hear him moving around my living room, not quite sure what should happen next.

The part of his story that I read hadn’t had anything in it about what happened towards the end of the date, so I had used my discretion and prepared for what I wanted to happen and had stocked my fridge ahead of time. I wanted it to be casual, so I had prepared a platter with sandwiches, crackers and sliced fruit and vegetables, along with little bowls to dip the stuff into. It could be placed on the table between us and we could take what we wanted or it could be set on the coffee table near us and we could nibble whenever we wanted to. It also had the advantage that we could feed each other things from it if things went in that direction. I had also placed a couple of six-packs of wine-coolers on the bottom shelf so that we could have something to relax us a little if we felt we needed it.

I turned in the direction that I thought he was standing and said, “There’s some stuff in the fridge for us to eat. Could you get it out of the fridge for us? You can set it on the coffee table for now and we can nibble on it.” His reply came from a completely different place than I expected. I realized that I was looking in the wrong direction. Being blind, if only temporarily, was not as easy as it seemed.

I heard him moving around me as he brought everything into the living room and placed it on the coffee table, then sat down beside me. I shifted my body until I was leaning against him and asked, "How does a blind person eat? I don't know where anything is and if I start feeling around, all I will do is get my fingers dirty and end up touching everything, which isn't a very safe thing to do."

His reply was very detailed and revealed that he had much more knowledge of the subject than I was aware of. He explained that most blind people set up their plates like a clock so that they could find everything easily. He also explained that they relied on the people that they were with to assist them.

That brought a smile to my face. The stuff that I had prepared to eat was perfect for that. "I guess that I am going to have to rely on you to help me, won't I. Nobody has taught me how to cope with being blind yet."

He shifted slightly and put his arm around me, then asked, "Would you like me to teach you or would it be better if I took care of you instead?"

I didn't even try to stop the smile from crossing my face as I replied, "I think that you should take care of poor helpless, defenceless little me." I fully intended to take full advantage of this opportunity. I reached up and took the hand that was around me and moved it lower so that it was against my side. The next move was up to him.

He snuggled closer to me and I felt him lean forward a little. When he leant back, he set a plate on my lap. I felt the plate shift slightly as he picked something up, then something against my lips as he brought his hand to my mouth. When I opened my lips, he placed a piece of fruit between them. The flavour of the small piece of fruit seemed to be more intense as I bit into it. His hand returned to the plate and brought another piece to my mouth.

Each time that he picked up a piece, I felt his hand brush against my leg and the plate move slightly higher on my leg until his hand was brushing against the inside of my leg and the plate was resting almost at the top of my thighs. His hand began to linger a little longer each time and his fingers brushed against my leg a little more than was necessary.

His other hand shifted so that it was resting against my side just beneath the band of my bra, then slowly began to move around to the front of my chest. His hands weren't going anywhere they shouldn't be, but they were getting closer to that line. Then I felt his body shift slightly and he brushed a piece of fruit against my lips, leaving something sticky behind. Before I could lick it off, his mouth touched mine and he was kissing me. He pulled back slightly, licked the sticky stuff from my lips and kissed me again, this time running his tongue over my teeth and slipping it into my mouth. The taste on his tongue was more intense than I expected.

The kiss didn't last long, but it was very pleasant. I was a little disappointed when his mouth left mine, but it had still been an unexpected pleasure. I felt his breath on my ear and then he whispered, “Up until now, you have had me to help you. Now it is time for you to be on your own for a while. Leave the contacts in for a while and find out what it is like to be blind. As much as I would love to stay longer, I think that it would be better if I left before things go farther than they should. I’ll guide you to the door so that you can lock it when I leave, but I will kiss you one more time before I leave.”

He shifted beside me on the couch, stood up and took my hand to help me up. The angle between our bodies was slightly different than I remembered it being as we walked to the door, and when he kissed me at the door, I found that it felt as if I was taller than him. The kiss was pleasant but brief, and I found that I wasn't ready for him to leave just yet. As he turned away, I took his hand and pulled him to me again, bringing his hand between us, then trapping it there by keeping my arm outside his as I put my arm around his back and pulled him to me.

This time I was the one who was doing the kissing. I pressed myself against him and did my best to reproduce the kisses that I had enjoyed the most in the past. I could feel his hand between us and did my best to shift my body so that his hand would end up higher than it was, but the height of my heels worked against me. I felt his hand twitch a few times and it did move a little higher, but not to where I was hoping for. Even though I wanted the kiss to last longer, I finally pulled back and let him go, then opened the door and let him leave.

As the door latch clicked into place, I realized that I was all alone for the first time and I had nobody to come to my rescue if I needed help. I ran my hand up the door until I found the lock and turned it, locking myself in.

Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 19. April 2021, 20:57:00 PM
Chapter 11

I flicked the light switch down, then up and down again. There was no difference that I could detect. I blinked a few times, my eyelids sliding over the smooth surface of the contacts between my lids and my eyes. There was no difference in the amount of light. Everything was black, not just dimly lit like I was used to it being at night, but completely black.

I left my fingers against the wall as I stretched out my arm and took a step away from the door. Right away, things felt different. The tall heels on the shoes gave my body a more upright posture and my center of gravity was slightly more forward than I was used to, and the lingerie that I was wearing, while very comfortable, tended to exaggerate the amount that my center of gravity had moved forward.

I began to smile as a picture formed in my mind of how I must look. The picture in my mind changed slightly as my free hand moved to my chest and felt the weight projecting in front of me. I didn't usually wear lingerie like this because it tended to make me look too big, but I had felt like dressing up special for my boyfriend on our blind date. Our date hadn't gone quite as I had planned, but it had definitely been an unusual and exciting one. And it didn't have to be over just yet if I didn't want it to be. Just because my boyfriend wasn't here didn't mean that I couldn't enjoy the rest of my night.

As I began to feel my way through my apartment, the image of how I pictured myself looking stayed with me, especially as I thought about the way I had been kissed. There was something about the way that he had run his tongue over my teeth, both between my lips and inside my mouth. I licked my lips to moisten them, then ran my tongue over the outer surface just the way that he had.

For the first time in many years, I paid attention to how they felt against my tongue. I took care of them, brushed them a couple of times a day at least, and regularly saw my dentist. They aren't perfectly straight, but then nobody's teeth are unless they have been straightened by an orthodontist, and even then they aren't always perfect, just better than they were before. This time I paid attention to each gap or difference in height and alignment to the teeth beside each tooth. If I was really honest with myself, there was some room for improvement, but nothing that I felt was worth the money to change.

Suddenly the wall disappeared from my fingertips and I realized that I was lost in my apartment. Rather than panic, I stopped and took a small step backwards and in the direction that I thought the wall was. My fingertips brushed against the corner of the wall and I knew where I was again. If I turned the corner, I would be in the hall to the bathroom and my bedroom. If I went straight, I would have to walk across my living room, eventually ending up in the kitchen. I thought I knew where all my furniture was, but I had always been able to see where everything was, even with the lights off.

If I was barefoot, I could probably feel my way across the room by checking for the difference in the way the carpet felt, but the shoes are just too high to do that. Besides, I was having fun wearing them, particularly because my boyfriend picked them out for me and put them on me.

I closed my eyes and tried to picture how the area in front of me was laid out. I knew that if I went straight, I would end up in the kitchen. Off to one side would be the couch and the dining room table would be on the other side. I let go of the wall and started to walk forward with my hands extended in front of me, not quite sure what I would encounter first. There was a brief moment of panic as I became lost in my apartment again and my eyes snapped open to complete blackness, then I realized what had just happened and I began to chuckle. There was no reason to panic because I was safe in my apartment, I just couldn’t see where I was going, and having my eyes open or closed didn’t make a difference.

I moved my hands from side to side in front of me as I moved forward again, then my hand brushed against a fabric surface and I found myself behind the couch. My sense of direction had been off a little and I hadn’t gone quite in the direction I expected. The couch was as good a place as any to stop, and there was food and drink on the table in front of it, so I would have something to nibble on as I experienced the rest of my evening.

I moved around the couch until I reached the front, then sat down and slid along until I felt the coffee table in front of me. Being careful and taking it slow, I moved my hands over the top of it until I found the platter of food, then felt around for the drinks. My hands encountered a flat oblong object and I realized that my tablet was on the table. I moved it closer to the edge where it would be easy to locate again and finally my hand bumped against the carton of bottles, which I moved beside the platter of food.

I began to nibble on the food, undecided what to do for the rest of my evening. Watching TV didn't sound like something that would be fun and going on the computer was pointless, since I couldn't see the screen. Listening to music was an option, as long as I didn't care what I listened to, unless I wanted to spend time trying discs until I found what I wanted.

As I reached for another sandwich, my hand bumped my tablet and a smile appeared on my face. My tablet was already set up for voice access and all I had to do was turn it on and swipe, as long as I could find my headset. I always plugged it in beside my computer when I wasn't using it, now all I had to do was find my computer. I knew my computer was close to the TV, but I wasn't sure if I could find my computer. All I could do was try.

I maneuvered myself around the coffee table, carefully lined myself up in the direction that I thought the wall was and stepped away. I counted the steps I took and knew I was right when my hand contacted the wall. Finding my headset was easy. Getting back to the couch wasn't. When I counted the steps as I returned and reached for the coffee table, it wasn't there. I felt a tingle run through my body. This was more fun than I thought it would be. One more step and I bumped into the couch, just not at the place I was expecting. I felt around until I located the coffee table again and sat down.

As soon as I turned on my headset, it chirped and said, "connected" and I knew I was ready to go. I stated that I wanted a new file, titled it 'dream sequence' and began to write the new chapter for my story. I didn't know if I had set it up right and could only hope that I wouldn't lose all my work. I sat there in the dark for quite a long time and talked, taking occasional breaks to nibble on the snacks and sip at the liquid. The whole chapter centered on what I would have liked to happen before my boyfriend left, but didn't actually take place. It started out with us kissing and ended up being very adult.

I had no way of knowing what the time was and decided that I would have a shower before heading to bed. What I didn't think of doing was using my voice control to ask my tablet what time it currently was. I knew where I was in my apartment and I knew where I wanted to go. Getting between the two places proved to be more difficult than I expected. I made my way to the end of the couch and lined myself up in what I hoped was the right direction.

I thought I knew how many steps it was between the couch and the wall to the hallway and my bedroom. I let go of the couch and stretched my arms in front of me, hoping to feel the wall before I bumped into anything else. When I took as many steps as I figured I should need to reach the wall, I paused, then took one more step. Still no wall. I moved my arms to either side of me and felt my fingertips brush against the wall. Either I had lined myself up better than I thought or I wasn't where I wanted to be.

With one hand in front of me and the other touching the wall, I walked forward. After a few steps, I knew that I was where I wanted to be. I could smell the floral scent that emanated from my bathroom getting stronger. As soon as the wall vanished again, I stopped and turned so that I was facing the doorway, then moved into my bathroom. My clothes began to drop to the floor as I removed them and they would stay there until I picked them up in the morning.

Showering was an exciting experience. Without being able to see, I had to do everything by feel, including finding out what each bottle had in it. Some were easy to identify by their shape, but mostly it was by smell. I had different scents from the same company and changed which one I used depending on my mood. Everything seemed more intense without being able to see, especially how the water cascaded over me.

When I stepped out of the shower, I realized that I had a problem. I couldn't see where the towels were and finding my bathrobe would be just as difficult. The towel rack should be right beside me, but I wasn't sure if I was facing the right direction. I moved my arms in a circle around me until I found the towels, then dried myself off. I took the time to give my teeth a thorough cleaning, and it was an experience to do it.

The next challenge happened when I made my way to my bedroom. My dresser wasn't the most organized place I have and I could only guess at what I had selected to wear. Whatever it was, it felt very nice on my body. It seemed as if I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

I slept like a rock. I woke up a couple of times, but when I did, it was still dark, so I just went back to sleep. Eventually I got to the point where I was just laying there, half-awake, and it dawned on that I still had the contacts in and I didn’t have a clue what time it really was. It was actually kind of fun to wake up that way, but I did need to get up and use the bathroom.

I made sure that I washed my hands, then felt around until I located the supplies that I needed to use when I removed my contacts. Locating the supplies before removing the contacts wasn’t necessary, but it just felt right to do as much as possible without being able to see what I was doing. It was a good thing that I did that, because when I removed the contacts, my vision was blurry and the light seemed to be a bit too bright. I had been told that it would probably happen and that it wouldn’t last long. Putting on my sunglasses would help with the brightness.

I squinted at the blurry image in the mirror, then chuckled at what I was wearing. It was a shame that my boyfriend had left because he definitely would have enjoyed seeing what I was wearing. I decided to leave it on for a while longer, with the addition of a pair of platform heels to spice up the look a bit. The heels were what took the look from sexy to seductive.

I wandered around my apartment, closed the drapes to reduce the brightness, and located my sunglasses. I felt so much better with the apartment dimmed. I realized that I was a little hungover when I saw just how many empty bottles were on the coffee table and thought about putting the contacts back in just for the relief from the still to bright light.

As tempting as the idea was, I still had to clean up my apartment, and I also wanted to see if I was successful with recording and converting my latest chapter. The story would have to wait until my place was cleaned. I figured that the bathroom might be the best place to start as there were no windows there, then I would move to the bedroom. The living room and kitchen could be done last.

I put all the wet things into the washing machine, along with the other stuff from the laundry hamper, and let it run. The clothes went into the hamper in the bedroom to be done later. I smiled when I saw which shoes my boyfriend had chosen for me, he obviously had a kinky side, as the shoes were my 'stay at home and have fun' shoes. I had never had the courage to wear them outside my apartment because they needed a very risque outfit to do them justice. I had the outfit in my closet but never was brave enough to wear it.

My hangover had decreased significantly by the time I moved to the kitchen and cleaned up the dishes from the night before. The sun had moved far enough that it wasn't shining in my windows anymore, but I still wore my sunglasses. I plugged my tablet into my computer and logged onto both of them. I was pleasantly surprised to find that there was both an audio file and a print copy of the latest chapter. As soon as I put it into the spell checker program, I saw that there were quite a few errors to fix, partially because of how my accent was and the slur in my voice from the alcohol hadn't helped. As I read along, I found that some of the errors made the story sounded better when the female character was talking, so I left them in.

The audio file went through the voice alteration process and I listened to it a couple of times, liking how the accent and alcoholic slur sounded. The final step was to send my boyfriend a copy of both files before I posted the story to the chat room and added both files to the storage site.

I was feeling hungry, so I decided to make myself a meal. I didn't want to get what I was wearing dirty, so I went to change into something more appropriate, although what I changed into could not really be described as suitable for cooking. When I went to my bedroom to change, what I chose to wear was a short tight dress that was quite revealing. The dream sequence in the latest chapter, as well as the blind date with my boyfriend, had me quite worked up and I saw no reason I shouldn't keep the mood going. Just for the fun of it, I added a pair of patterned stockings that ended below the hem of the dress.

When I looked in the mirror and saw how I looked, it was an easy decision to take a few pictures of myself from different angles. It was also an easy decision to text my boyfriend a copy of one of the less revealing pictures. One that had me running my tongue over my slightly uneven teeth. I wasn’t worried about him showing it to anyone and wouldn’t mind if he did. I had nothing to be embarrassed about.

I decided on a simple pasta meal that involved boiling the noodles and opening a jar of sauce, then adding a few ingredients to add flavour and texture to the sauce. I left the sauce on low and went on the computer while I waited for the noodles to cook a little. The final step was to bake it in the oven with a crumb topping and cheese.

My latest chapter already had several responses, a couple of them from females saying how much they were enjoying having a female writing a story from her perspective. Even the negative comments were respectful when they said that my story was good, just not something that they were interested in. It didn't surprise me since they were from guys who liked stories about guys. I was a bit surprised by how fast people had responded.

I got responses from both my online friend and my boyfriend, and the responses were different from each other. Both made me smile at what they said. It was as if there were two people writing comments with my boyfriend's being the more suggestive of the two.

I was feeling creative, so I set up the computer to connect to my headset, opened files for both an audio recording and a print version the same way that I had the night before. Then I went to my bathroom and put the contacts in again, rendering myself blind for the evening. As soon as the second contact slipped into place, my whole body began to respond very pleasantly.

My other senses became more acute with my sight gone. I could smell the aroma remaining from my supper, hear the computer fan whirring and feel the different textures in the paint as I made my way back to the kitchen, where I took a six-pack from the fridge to enjoy in the living room.

I positioned myself on the couch the way that I would want my boyfriend to find me if he had been coming over, then began talking to my computer. The first part of my story was about how I remembered the date happening and about what I had felt during the date, then I wrote about being alone in my apartment after my boyfriend left and what I did. The final part of the story was about what I was wishing could happen as I was sitting on my couch writing a story. That part contained what I was wearing and feeling as the air in my apartment moved over the skin on my legs between the hem of my dress and the lace tops of my stockings and how I wished it was my boyfriend's breath instead.

By the time that I was finished audibly writing the chapter, I knew that I needed a shower to relieve the excitement. A bath would have been more relaxing, but I needed the effects of the shower spray on my body more. It was a good thing that there was almost unlimited hot water because it was a long shower.

After my shower, I left everything laying on the floor except for my shoes, which I wore to my bedroom. I had left what I wore to bed the night before on my bed, ready for me to put on again. As I crawled into bed, my mind went over how my life had changed in the last couple of days.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 22. June 2021, 09:32:20 AM
I haven't forgotten about this story, I've just been working on 'The Muffins' lately.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 28. August 2021, 18:49:09 PM
Here is another chapter. I have been working on other projects for a while and letting ideas percolate through my mind. This week, I felt like working on this one. So, here it is.


Chapter 12

I blinked my eyes as I woke up, this time enjoying the sensation of waking up blind. My hands rubbed over my body as I lay in bed, enjoying the feel of the fabrics covering my body. The thought of trying to describe the way that I was feeling being blind and the heightened touch, smell and hearing for the readers of my story gave me a thrill and I was tempted to have another shower to relieve the build-up of stimulation. The idea of writing about what I was experiencing was just as thrilling as actually feeling it.

I slipped my hand down to the floor and felt around for the shoes that I had left beside the bed, slipped them on and felt my way along the wall to the living room and my computer. The headset and mic were where I had left them and it just took a touch of the keyboard to wake up my computer. A few voice commands set up a new file for the next chapter and I began to dictate the chapter. The words seemed to just flow, and I didn’t realize just how much time had passed until I started to feel hungry and my throat felt a bit dry.

I was enjoying myself so much that I didn’t even consider taking out the contacts as I slowly walked to the kitchen to get something to eat and drink. The feelings of being lost in my apartment had disappeared, to be replaced by sensations that were kind of stimulating. The whole blind-date experience had become one that I was coming to really desire. After making a simple breakfast, I did my best to clean up the kitchen without being able to see what I was doing.

As much as I wanted to spend the day experiencing doing things while blind, I did have things that I wanted to do that required being able to see. But those things could wait for a while yet. First I had to brush my teeth and have a shower. I was getting better at walking around my apartment without being able to see. I used stationary objects to line myself up in the direction I wanted to go and held one hand in front as I walked. I had a picture in my mind of where I thought objects were and how I must look as I walked around my apartment.

The simple act of brushing my teeth took on a new meaning for me. I couldn’t see where the head of my toothbrush was, so I had to use my fingertips to guide the end of the toothpaste tube along the bristles. Then the action of brushing my teeth became a more sensual event. I’d never really paid that much attention to what I was doing when I brushed them before, but not being able to watch what I was brushing changed things. I never realized that seeing what I was doing while brushing mattered that much. It became an exploration of my mouth as the oscillations of the electric toothbrush began cleaning my teeth.

I brushed for a while, then used the tip of my tongue to check if there were any noticeable areas that I had missed. As I ran my tongue over my teeth, just how many imperfections there were became a bit more apparent. It could just have been that I was more aware of them because I couldn’t see, or it could be that I had never paid that much attention to them before. Either way, brushing my teeth would never be the same for me ever again. I spent more time brushing than I normally do, until I was satisfied that they were clean.

Finally, I slipped off my shoes and started the shower running, then found a clean bath towel by feel. I was about to slip out of my nighttime outfit, then the thought occurred to me to just wear it in the shower. I had worn it for a couple of days and it would be going into the laundry hamper, so getting it wet now wouldn’t matter. As soon as I felt the water cascade over me, I knew that it was a good decision. I also knew that all the shower would do was take the edge off, not completely satisfy me. That would only happen after I wrote another chapter for my story, one that would be just for myself, and maybe Robert, the name that I used for the character of my boyfriend in my story. It was the name that my boyfriend used when he was online in the chatroom.

The shower took longer than I had expected, and as expected, it didn't satisfy me completely. Slightly frustrated, I slipped out of my wet outfit and dried off, then located the supplies for my contacts and reluctantly removed them. They went into the cleaning solution, ready for the next time I needed them. It wasn't a question of if, but when I would put them in again.

The computer was asleep again, so I touched the keyboard, picked up my headset and began dictating the next chapter. The chapter was a dream sequence again and got very graphic very fast. I could feel myself blushing as I saw the words appearing on the screen, but that added to the excitement. The chapter flowed out fast and it was done in no time. Running it through the audio program to alter my voice went fast and then it was time to listen to it one last time. The urge to put my contacts in was strong, but I resisted, closing my eyes and putting my hands over them instead.

My hands were shaking as I sent a copy to my boyfriend's email account, adding that he should only listen when nobody else could hear it. As I sent it, my body began to shake and I had to lean against the back of the couch until my overstimulated body had the release that it so desperately needed. Finally, a smile crossed my face as my body was satisfied. Sending the email to my boyfriend and imagining his reaction had done what the shower hadn't been able to do.

I sat there until I felt able to move again. It was a shame that I hadn't worn my heels, but there was nothing that I could do about it. The bathroom needed to be cleaned up again and I hung my wet outfit over the towel rack to dry. As I finished cleaning up, I took a look at myself in the mirror. My hair had grown longer and the colour that I had added to it had faded a little and blended in with my natural colour. I made a mental note to pick up some more to do it again.

There were a few groceries that I needed to buy, so I dressed in clean soft clothes, just jeans and a T-shirt, and went out shopping. The place I typically went was a short distance, so I walked there. I was just about done shopping when my phone chirped with a text from ‘Robert’. When I opened it, I began to laugh when I saw “............pop…..pop…..pop” and a smiley face with crossed eyes. I knew what he meant.

My last stop in the store was near the hair care aisle and I saw that they had a sale on hair colour. My mental note from earlier popped into my mind and I decided that it would be a good time to pick up a new box. As I looked through the selection of colours trying to decide which one to get, an idea formed, and the more I looked at the colours, the more that I liked the idea. I picked out two boxes, one a couple of shades darker than my natural reddish hair, the second a copperish red a little lighter than my hair. The combination of the two would look nice if I just used them to add small streaks.

I spent the afternoon in my kitchen with a roll of tinfoil and the boxes of hair colour, dyeing small strands of hair. After I was finished drying my hair for the last time, I looked at it and couldn't see any difference as I ran the brush through it. Then I put it in a ponytail and hints of the added colour began to show through a little. Encouraged, I decided to braid it and that is when the true effect came through. As the last little bit of hair was put in place and I turned my head to tie off the end, the full extent of my efforts began to show. As the angle of the light changed, different shades were revealed.

I looked at my t-shirt and laughed. With all the water that had been sprayed on it while I had washed the dye out, it was plastered to my chest and it looked as if I had been involved in a paintball fight, with little patches of red dye all over it. I ran my hands over my chest before I pulled the shirt over my head, intending to throw it in the trash, then tossed it in the sink instead.

My stomach began to make noises, letting me know that it had been too long since I put food in it, so I put together a meal, still wearing just my bra and jeans. As I waited for it to finish cooking, I sat down at the computer and checked the chat room. My newest chapters had been read and listened to and the comments had been steadily coming in. Both of my boyfriend's accounts had sent me private messages complimenting me.

Robert had added a message that he hoped that I wouldn't be mad at him for sharing the private chapter with a friend of his. He went on to explain that she was someone that he had known for a long time and that he trusted her to not spread it around. She had really enjoyed it and had asked where he got it. He wanted to know if he could give her the name that I used in the chat room.

My body began to tingle at the thought of someone I didn't know listening to what I had recorded and enjoying it.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 05. September 2021, 01:48:49 AM
Chapter 13

Rather than send Robert a text and wait for a reply, I called him. He must have been waiting, because he answered right away. We talked about the newest chapters and I explained how I had been wearing the contacts since our 'blind date' and how it had resulted in me writing the chapters. Then I told him that it was okay that he had shared the private chapter with a friend, as long as he trusted her. I had used the altered voices to record it, so nobody would recognize my voice.

He explained that I had met her already. It was the hostess from the restaurant, the one in the wheelchair. As soon as I heard that, I gave him permission to let her have my chatroom name. She had been nice to us when she was taking care of us at the restaurant and I had felt comfortable talking to her. There was something about her that had appealed to me when I first met her, and I wouldn't mind getting to know her a little.

It wasn't long after we hung up that a new private message appeared, this time from 'HotWheels'. It was from a name that I had seen in the chat room before and she had made comments about my story a few times. I could tell that it was a female by how the comments were written. No guy would ever describe things that way.

I replied that I appreciated her comments and that I was having fun writing the story. When she said how much she enjoyed the private chapter, I asked that she not pass it on to anyone else. She assured me that she wouldn't and we moved on to other topics. We chatted for quite a while before she said that she had to get ready for work.

Feeling a bit mischievous, I asked her what she was going to wear in her wheelchair today and what kind of shoes she was going to wear with her legbraces. She hesitated quite a while before replying. She wanted to know how I knew that she was in a wheelchair and that she wore legbraces. I told her that we had met before and that I wouldn't tell her where, it would have to remain a mystery. I did promise that we would chat again.


When I got to work, 'Robert' saw what I had done to my hair and we had to sneak away for a few minutes so that he could show me what he thought of what I had done. I felt much better the rest of the day after being kissed that way.

We talked about when we could have the next date, but he was busy volunteering for the next few days that we were off work. I dropped a few hints and he picked up on them and, in a roundabout way, suggested that I might like to join him for part of the time. It took a little while to figure out what I should wear and then when I would join him.

We would be shuttling patients from their homes to various appointments in and around the hospital, and there would be times when we would be waiting for a patient to finish an appointment, so he suggested that I bring my tablet along and work on my story.

I chatted online with 'HotWheels' a few times and she told me her name, which I already knew from when Robert had taken me out for supper and she had been our hostess. Most of the time we talked about things that girls talk about, clothes, makeup and social media sites, among other things. When the subject of shoes came up, I learnt a little bit about her disability. When she bought new shoes, they had to be adapted to fit onto her braces so that she could walk in them.

She had been in a car accident and had injured her spine and upper legs. They had removed a chip from her spine to prevent it from damaging her spinal cord and had to put pins into the bones of her upper leg to allow it to heal. As a result, her left leg was slightly shorter than her right and she walked with a slight limp. One option had been for her to get the sole of all her shoes built up, but she had found that if she bought shoes with heels, that she could have the left heel built up and it didn't show the way that a thick sole would. She still found it hard to walk long distances and standing on her feet for long periods was painful, so she used her wheelchair quite a bit of the time.

I felt it was only fair to share a bit about myself, so I told her about how I got involved in writing the stories from a female point of view and creating the audio files. I left out the part about how I got to know Robert and that we were dating. After telling her that I wouldn't tell her where she had met me, it became a game. She would make a guess and I would tell her if she was getting warmer or colder. She had already figured out that it was through someone we both knew.

She had asked if I had a picture of the shoes that my character had worn, so I had sent her a couple pictures of them, and some of my other shoes had been in the pictures as well. She had sent me a few pictures of her shoes as well, explaining that she had two collections. One was for when she would be walking and had mainly low heels and sturdy sides to support her feet. The second collection was for when she was staying in her wheelchair, and was considerably more fashionable. We compared shoe sizes and found that we were similar, if not identical in many of the styles we wore.

When someone posted a new chapter to a story or a new story was started, people would comment on them, both positive and negative. HotWheels and I found that we liked much of the same type of story, so it wasn't unusual for comments from IrishMolly and HotWheels to appear in the same thread and close together. I had chosen my online name because of my accent. Chuckee also would frequently post comments, followed by a comment from Robert, usually with a contrasting viewpoint. What nobody except IrishMolly knew was that Robert and Chuckee were the same person.

Sometimes, just for the fun of it, the two of us would go online and Robert and Molly would start flirting with each other, and then Chuckee would try to butt in. It was fun to see how people took sides, advocating for either Robert or Chuckee.

Then, one day Chuckee asked if I wanted to spend the day riding in his van. I had been eagerly awaiting the invitation to ride along, but I didn't expect it to come from Chuckee. I replied that 'I would have to ask my boyfriend first, and that I didn't know if it would be appropriate for me to be alone with him for that long.' Before Chuckee could reply, HotWheels posted that I wouldn't be alone the entire time, since Chuckee was driving her to an appointment.

As soon as I saw that, I replied, "In that case, I think that I will accept the invitation. I'm sure that my boyfriend will be okay with it."

My phone chirped with a text from 'Robert'. "You're going to enjoy being in the van with me. I'm working on a surprise for you, so wear a calf-length skirt and a pair of low chunky heels. A pair of stockings would also be a good idea. Brace for a surprise, my Irish Molly."

I got that special tingle that happens when he treats me nice like that. I liked how he said 'Irish Molly' when we talked with each other and even having him use it in a text was enough to make me smile big. It also brought up pleasant memories of being kissed by him and I ran my tongue over my teeth and lips as I contemplated spending the day with him, even if there were other people with us part of the time.

What I didn't realize was that I had unwittingly provided several pieces of information about who I was and who we both knew and had in common. It also didn't help that I added a new chapter to my story about planning to go on a date and what I was planning on wearing on the date. After editing and recording the latest chapter, I emailed a copy to my boyfriend. Not long after I sent it, HotWheels posted a comment about liking the latest recording and I knew that he had sent it to her. Then I posted both the written copy and the audio version to the cloud storage account for everyone else to access.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 07. September 2021, 20:33:48 PM
Reading A Story - 14

The morning of my 'date' with Robert, I was awake early. It wasn't deliberate, but I was too excited to sleep longer, so I got up and had a shower. I had plenty of time to get ready, so I shaved my legs, and other parts as well. The feel of the water cascading over my freshly shaved skin had a rather pleasant effect and I took the time to enjoy it and relieve a little bit of tension.

HotWheels and I had been chatting the night before and she had made a few suggestions about what I should wear. Rather than sheer stockings, she had suggested I wear heavier opaque thigh-length stockings with a pair of block-heeled, open-toed shoes that laced over my feet and had a bit of a platform. She had seen them in one of my pictures and said she liked the look of them, and that she had a pair similar to them that she found comfortable when she was walking with her legbraces.

The rest of my outfit consisted of a below-the-knee length jean skirt and a button-front blouse that I could leave partially unbuttoned to show some cleavage if I wanted to. I chose lingerie that was perhaps a bit sexier than necessary, but fit my mood very well.

Robert arrived in time for breakfast, just like I asked him to, and I had the table ready when he did. When he saw how I was dressed and what I had made, he took me in his arms and kissed me the way that I like. It was a good thing that most of it was in the oven staying warm, because it would have gotten cold by the time that the kiss ended.

After we finished eating and cleaning up after the meal, I went to brush my teeth, and he joined me in the bathroom to do his at the same time. It was a fun thing to do together, even though he seemed to spend quite a bit of time watching me brush. Because I was feeling playful, I made more of a production of it, exposing my teeth quite a bit and checking to make sure that no food was left stuck between my teeth.

It turned out that HotWheels was our first passenger of the day. When we arrived, she was waiting for us on her porch, with what looked like a downhill-ski bag and a second wheelchair. As we pulled up, she rolled down the ramp and waited as 'Chuckee' lowered the lift for her so that she could get into the van. After strapping her chair into place, which meant that his head was near her face, he brought the bag and the spare chair to the van and secured them as well.

When I asked what she had said to him while he was securing her chair, she said that it was private. She had a big smile on her face, and I saw that she had retainers running across her beautifully straight teeth. When she saw me looking, she explained that her lower jaw had been broken in the accident and that they had put braces on her so that they could wire her jaws together while the bones healed.

When they were satisfied that her jaws had healed enough to remove them, the orthodontist had asked if she wanted to have her bite fixed and have a 'Hollywood smile' or just have them removed. The insurance would cover the cost because it was considered as part of the damage from the accident.

After scrolling through her phone a bit, she sent me a file over the blue-tooth connection with pictures of what her braces had looked like after the accident. Her face had been bruised for a while, and the braces had been quite heavy-duty metal brackets with hooks on all of them. She had worn a pink splint with a hole for a feeding tube and the wires holding her jaws together had looked as if she had metal fishing-line zigzagging across the front of her mouth.

When I commented that she must have kept them on and had her teeth fixed, she smiled and said, "By the time that they took off the wires for the last time, I was ready to get rid of them, but Chuckee convinced me that I should wait a little longer and take the time to think about it. If I left them on for a while, they would act like a retainer, which I would have to wear all the time anyway, and if I decided to improve my smile, the braces would be there already. Besides, it wouldn't cost me anything with the insurance paying for it. The downside was that the insurance wouldn't pay for a less visible form of treatment with ceramic brackets or Invisalign. In the end, with quite a lot of encouragement from Chuckee, I did keep them on and get my teeth fixed. As you can see, it was well worth it. I still wear my retainers when I am not at work, and sometimes I wear them at work too if I am in the mood." She winked as she said the last bit.

Then she smiled at me and said, "It took me a long time to figure out where we met. It wasn't until you mentioned my legbraces and wheelchair that things started to fall into place. When Chuckee asked if you wanted to join him in the van, the final pieces fit together. I tend to notice what people are wearing on their feet, since I am close to that level, and I recognized the pair of shoes that you were wearing at the restaurant, in the pictures of your shoes that you sent me. That, combined with you writing stories, formed the complete picture."

"How would you like to spend part of your day with me while I am travelling around the hospital? I asked Chuckee what he thought, and he was thrilled with the idea. I would like to get to know you better, and being able to talk to you without the screen between us would be nice."

I looked at my boyfriend, and the smile on his face said that there was a little bit more going on than I was aware of. I was also curious about how he knew HotWheels and what their relationship was. Being with her for the day might be a good way to scope out the competition for my boyfriend, if that was what she was. It would be an interesting day, either way, so I accepted her invitation.

The first stop was at the physical therapist. She was still healing from her injuries, even though it had been several years since the accident, and she still saw the therapist a couple of times a month for a checkup. My boyfriend unloaded the wheelchair and the bag after lowering HotWheels with the wheelchair lift. I figured that I should make myself useful by pushing the spare wheelchair, but found that it was awkward to push it, with the back being so low.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught my boyfriend gesture to HotWheels and saw her nod. She said, "It would be easier if you were in the chair and just pushed it the same way that I do, using the wheels on the side. I always carry a spare pair of gloves with me, if you want to try it."

I hesitated for a moment, thinking about it. It was awkward bending over the way I was, and being in the chair to maneuver it made sense. Besides, how hard could it be, HotWheels did it all the time. I smiled and nodded.

She turned to Chuckee and said, "Can you get the gloves from the pocket on the side?" Then she turned her chair to face me and said, "The gloves are adjustable. Don't make them too tight, and having them fit snug is important to keep them from snagging on things." She took the gloves from my boyfriend and rolled up beside me as I sat in the spare wheelchair. "Let me show you how to adjust them."

With the gloves on, I made my first attempt at maneuvering the wheelchair, only to discover that it wasn't quite as easy as it looked. They both tried not to laugh as I spun in a slow circle. HotWheels said, "You have to balance the amount of pressure so that you roll in a straight line. Watch what I do."

I watched as she used one hand to roll in a straight line down the hall, then spin around and return. She used her whole body, treating the chair as if it was part of her. "I've had considerably more practice, but take your time and you will get the hang of it in no time."

I used both hands to get the chair moving, and she was right, by the time that we reached the therapy room, I was feeling comfortable in the chair, and while still not a professional, was able to maneuver easily. Even getting through doors was easy with most of them having power door buttons at a convenient height.

When we rolled into the therapy room, the therapist greeted us and asked, "Do I have a new patient today?"

HotWheels grinned and said, "This is my friend Irish Molly. She's spending the day with me, and we figured it would be easier if she just rode along rather than pushing the chair around." I grinned when she called me her friend. "You already know Chuckee. He's been here longer than I have."

After a bit of a chat about how she was doing, the therapy session began. Her flexibility was tested, both with and without her legbraces on. I understood why she wore jean shorts under her skirt when I saw her taking off and putting on her legbraces. I also got a good look at how the metal braces fastened to her legs. And I saw the scars around her left thigh. She noticed me looking, but didn't say anything.

The next part of her checkup involved checking her ability to walk. She rolled over to a set of parallel bars and pulled herself up between them. As she stood up, I heard the knee locks click into place, then watched as she lifted herself between the bars, swinging her legs forwards together until she reached the end of the bars. Returning, she moved from side to side, swinging one leg forwards, then doing the same with the other leg. The therapist had her unlock her knees and try it again, but her legs didn't have enough strength in them to support her for more than a step or two.

As she sat in her wheelchair again, I saw her grinning and the wires across her teeth sparkled in the overhead lights. "That's the first time that I have been able to walk that far with my knees unlocked. It's a good sign. My legs are getting stronger and my back is improving. I'll probably need the wheelchair for the rest of my life, but I won't be restricted to it."

While the therapist had been giving HotWheels her checkup, I hadn't just been sitting there, I'd been rolling around the wheelchair area, trying out a few of the challenges set up there. The ramps had been fun, though I had to be careful on the steeper ramps. I almost went out of control a few times as I was rolling back down. Opening doors had been a challenge, especially the doors that shut on their own. I got stuck partway through a couple of times, and Chuckee had to give me a hand getting out. It never occurred to me that all I had to do was stand up to fix the situation.

There were some things that I didn’t bother to try, such as the stairs and the curbs without the dips in them. Once HotWheels was done with her session, she joined me and showed me how to navigate a few of the more difficult obstacles. I watched as she went up the stairs backwards on two wheels and popped a wheelie as she went over the curb to floor level. I could see that she really treated the chair as part of her body.

Another person arrived for a therapy session, so we left, with Chuckee carrying the bag again. We had a little time before her next appointment, so we did a short tour of the hospital. We passed by the cafeteria, and the smells coming through the door brought back some good memories, and the same thing happened as we passed through the atrium with all the plants. I stopped briefly and closed my eyes to let the smell of the flowers waft over me as I smiled at the memories that being there brought back.

Chuckee had been looking at his phone off and on for a while, and he finally said that he had another patient to transport. I watched as he glanced at HotWheels and she nodded again. Something was going on that I wasn’t aware of. He turned to me and asked, "If it's alright with you, can I leave you with HotWheels for a while? I'll be back later to pick her up for the ride to her place."

She gave me a sparkly smile and said, "I would like the company, and you seem to be enjoying being in the chair. My next appointment isn't for a while yet and we can talk while I have to wait. We can have lunch after that."

I looked between them, then nodded my agreement.

Chuckee said, "I'll drop off the bag before I leave. It'll be waiting for you when you get there."

He went one way and we went the other, rolling through the halls and across overhead walkways between the buildings until we reached the building she had her appointment in. It turned out that she was having her legbraces adjusted and some new shoes modified to fit her braces.

Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 08. September 2021, 23:54:56 PM
Chapter 15

When we rolled in, the technician greeted us and asked, "So what are we going to do first, HotWheels? It might be better if the adjustments are made to the legbraces, and then I can take the measurements for the shoes."

She grinned and replied, "I have to agree with you, Mr. Shoemacher. If you will bring me the bag, I'll get ready for the adjustments."

He set the bag on the bench beside her and she opened it to remove a set of crutches, obviously customized for her because of the fancy paint colours coating it. I expected him to give her a hand getting out of her wheelchair, but she leaned forward, balancing on one crutch and slowly stood up. As her legs straightened, the locks on her knees clicked into place, first the leg farthest away, then the leg closest to the crutch. She slipped the second crutch under her arm and balanced herself as she reached down and unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. The reason for wearing the shorts was even more obvious.

Mr. Shoemacher looked at the way the legbraces were fitting to her legs and made a few notes, then said, "All that needs to be done is to reline the thigh and knee bands. Now, let's take a look at the shoes that you brought me. Are they in the bag?"

When she nodded, he looked in the bag and removed a couple of boxes. I saw that there were still more objects in the bag, but couldn't see what they were.

"I think it would be faster if I stayed standing while you take the measurements for the shoes," she said, then shifted her balance so that he could remove her shoe. I watched as he pressed on the ankle joints and they separated from her legbraces, then he slipped her shoe off. He replaced it with one of the new shoes.

The process was repeated on her other leg and she stood there as he took measurements, including how much needed to be added to the heel to build it up. The second pair of shoes were more of a challenge. I could tell that she wasn't going to be walking in them much because of the height, but he still took the time to get the measurements right so that her left leg was properly supported when she was standing. She wobbled a few times without the support for her ankles, but remained standing while he worked.

When he was done, she said, "I'm going to need your assistance to get into my wheelchair."

I expected him to take her hands to assist her, but instead, he bent over slightly and placed one hand behind her knees and the other around her back, and when she put her arm around his neck, stood up and picked her up, then set her in her wheelchair with her legs sticking out in front of her.

I began to laugh at how she looked sitting there, and she looked at me and began to laugh too. She unlocked one leg and set it on the footpad, then did the other leg. Then she undid the legbraces and set them on the bench, bent over, and picked up her skirt. She raised her legs and stepped into her skirt while sitting, then pulled it up, and with one hand on the wheel beside her, lifted herself and slipped her skirt all the way into place.

Mr. Shoemacher smiled as she pulled a pair of heels from her bag and put them on. "I can have the braces and shoes ready in a couple of hours. What about that other project that you asked me about?"

HotWheels looked at me and turned back to him and said, "I haven't had a chance to talk about it yet." Then she turned to me again and asked, "I brought a pair of my old legbraces along. Chuckee wanted me to ask you if you would like to try them on. He thought that you might want to find out what it feels like to wear them. After reading your story, I think that you might enjoy it."

I felt myself blush a little at the thought of what she was offering. The look on my face must have answered for me, because she opened the bag and pulled out another set of crutches. "I also brought you a set of these to play with if you want." Before I could say anything, she had her old legbraces laying on the bench and was handing me the crutches.

Mr. Shoemacher grinned and said, "She didn't say no, yet." Then he turned to me and said, "If you don't mind, I would like to treat you like one of my new patients. With your consent, I will adjust the legbraces so that they fit you properly." My grin must have said enough, because he turned to HotWheels and asked, "Will you assist me with fitting them? She might be more comfortable having you help her put them on."

HotWheels looked at me and smiled, the wires of her retainers on full display. "What do you think? Are you up for an adventure?" All I could do was smile and nod. She draped the legbraces over her lap and headed for a door in the far wall. "Follow me then."

I rolled behind her to the room, which turned out to be a treatment room. "Lay down on the bench so that I can help you put them on. They won't fit right until they are adjusted properly." I began to stand up, but she stopped me. "Slide your butt out of the chair as if your legs are weak and don't work right." I let my legs go limp and dragged them with me as I slid onto the bench.

She pulled one of my feet onto her lap and unlaced my shoe, then did the other one as well. "I want you to stay sitting so that you can watch what I do." She laid out the legbrace for the leg closest to her, then picked up my leg and laid it between the metal struts. As she fastened the buckles holding the knee and thigh straps around my leg, she explained how to fasten them so that they would be snug enough to support my leg without moving and rubbing against my skin. As she slid my skirt up my leg to fasten the thigh straps, she said, "This is why I suggested the opaque stockings. They will protect your thighs better, and using the bathroom will be much easier this way."

When she started on my other leg, she had to shift her balance to reach it and it seemed as if she spent more time touching the inside of my leg than was required. Particularly when she was adjusting the straps on my upper thigh. I wasn't about to complain, I was enjoying the way that she was touching me, and was a little disappointed that she didn't go a little higher.

Getting back into my chair was more of a challenge. My legs didn't move the way that I was used to, and she hadn't put my shoes back on, so I felt the cold metal of the footrest through my stockings. My legs felt heavy and sort of stiff. By the time that I was seated in the chair again, my skirt was around my thighs and the clasps of my garterbelt were showing. I copied how she lifted herself with one hand and straightened out my skirt, pulling it down to cover my thighs.

Mr. Shoemacher was waiting for us outside the room, holding the crutches for me. When he asked, "Would you like a hand to stand up?" I readily accepted. He took my hands and gently pulled me towards him as I stood up until the knees locked into place. After handing me the crutches and adjusting them to the right height, he waited until I was balanced to let go completely.

I found that standing wearing the legbraces was different. I couldn't use my leg muscles to balance the way that I was used to, and had to use my upper body differently. I had to stand straighter and this had the effect of making my chest more prominent. Once I was stable on my feet, Mr. Shoemacher pulled out his notebook and tape measure and began taking measurements. He started at my feet and worked his way up. I noticed that he was doing a more thorough job than he had on HotWheels and making more notes. While he had only measured around her legs in a few places, with mine he took measurements between my joints too.

As he got higher on my legs, he had to lift my skirt more to take the measurements. I could see HotWheels grinning as she watched him working. As he got closer to the straps around my upper thigh, I realized just why she was grinning so much. She had deliberately had me wear stockings, knowing that he would be seeing what I was wearing. He tried to be professional as he took the measurements between my knees and the top of the legbraces, but I could feel his hands shake a little.

The final step to complete the measurements was for me to stand wearing my shoes. When he asked if I would be able to support myself on one foot while he slipped my shoe on, I decided that it would be better if I was sitting. He took my arm and put it around his neck before he picked me up the same way that he had done with HotWheels and set me in my chair. He left my legs sticking straight out while he slipped my shoes on and laced them to my feet. It felt strange having the metal plates between my foot and the inside of the shoe, but I soon was used to it. Standing was also a lot easier with the shoes providing support that I didn't realize was missing before.

After a quick check to make sure the measurements were the same, he asked if I wanted help removing the braces. Rather brazenly, I asked if he would help me, knowing that he would have to touch my upper legs again. I was actually looking forward to it this time. He put me back in my chair so that he could remove my shoes first, before unfastening the braces from my legs. I felt his hands shake a little as he put my shoes back on for me. I had left my skirt resting above my knees, and my knees weren't tight together.

HotWheels asked how long it would take to make all the adjustments and when her shoes would be ready. Mr. Shoemacher informed us that it would take a few hours for the legbraces and that we should come back after lunch to have my legbraces tested again. After I adjusted my skirt, HotWheels and I rolled out of there for the cafeteria.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: eddiestobbart on 09. September 2021, 01:51:04 AM
What a wonderful chapter - I love the detailed description of the bracing experience.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 09. September 2021, 08:35:13 AM
Thank you for your kind reply. Knowing what you like helps me to improve my story.

Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 10. September 2021, 01:37:09 AM
Chapter 16

As we got closer to the atrium, I noticed that there were more people around, many of them with lunchbags. We hadn't been rushing and we had paused a few times to look out the windows at the views, sometimes of the water, other times of the mountains in the distance. I noticed that her legs tended to flop around a little without the braces holding them in place.

Before we arrived at the atrium, she stopped and lifted her left leg with her hands and crossed it over her right leg. When she saw me watching, she explained, "I haven't regained the same level of muscle control that you have. When I am wearing a skirt, it can be a bit embarrassing if I'm not careful. This way, I don't accidentally flash someone, though it can be fun when I am in the mood and dressed for it."

I began to do the same, except I didn't use my hands. She stopped me and said, "You're sitting in a wheelchair, do it the way that I did." I put my leg down, then copied the way that she had used her hands to lift her leg and place it over the other knee. It felt different to not use my leg muscles. The new position also altered the angle of how my body contacted the chair.

As we rolled through the atrium, I noticed that quite a few guys would glance at us and then look away, then look back at us. When we passed a reflective surface, I noticed why. With my legs crossed, I tended to lean forward a little more, and I was displaying a fair amount of cleavage. Everything was still covered, but I still had an enticing amount of chest showing. I also noticed that some of the inside of my right leg was a bit more visible above the knee than before.

By the time that we reached the cafeteria, I had discovered another effect from the altered body position. My hips were tilted forward more, and that, combined with my thighs pressing together, was producing a rather pleasant sensation between my legs. When HotWheels saw me blushing, she grinned. She had deliberately set me up again.

The cafeteria was divided into two sections, the larger section having a self-serve buffet-style counter, and a separate section that food could be ordered at the cash register and it would be brought to the table when it was ready. After ordering, I followed her through the tables until she found a table she liked. It had chairs on two sides, leaving space for us to roll our chairs underneath. She had me take the side facing the main part of the restaurant and the entrance door where my crossed legs would be visible.

While we waited for our food, we started talking. She could see that I had some things that I wanted to ask, but hadn’t been able to. Finally she said, "I'm going to tell you a bit of a story that will explain quite a lot. The less you interrupt, the easier it will be to understand what has happened. Make notes of any questions you have and I will do my best to answer them later."

I had left my things in the van when we had arrived because I didn't know how to carry everything. She had paid for my meal after I had explained what had happened. She handed me a pad and pen for the notes.

"When I arrived at the hospital after my accident, they kept me heavily sedated while they operated on me. When I woke up, my jaws were wired shut and my legs were in braces. They couldn't put casts on because of the pins and the swelling. I was paralyzed from just below my shoulders to my feet. I spent my first week flat on my back, heavily sedated to control the pain, staring at the ceiling. Every time that I needed an MRI, CT scan, or some other test done, I had to be moved around the hospital in my bed. The hospital has a coded paging system that they use to direct staff and volunteers to where they are needed. One of those is for 'Charles' to go to a room to move a patient. All the males that move patients around are called 'Charles'. The females are called 'Charlotte'."

"It is a system that works better than everybody having phones and pagers. Your boyfriend was one of the volunteers who took care of me. We spent a lot of time talking and we found that we had some things in common. I had lots of time and nothing to do, so he brought an old laptop and Bluetooth keyboard and mouse, and hooked it up to the tv so that I could do more than watch tv all the time. He downloaded a couple of books for me, and all I had to do was scroll the ball on the mouse to read."

"One day I commented that I liked to read an unusual type of story, and that I couldn't find many books that fit into that category. My jaws were wired shut and I couldn't talk yet at that point, so he would hold the keyboard for me and I would type. When he saw what I wanted, he grinned and said that he would do what he could to help me. A few days later, he logged me onto a chat room with the nickname "HotWheels". Part of the chat room had stories for me to read."

After reading a few of the stories, I knew that he had made my days brighter and more bearable. I also noticed that one of the writers seemed to be writing stories that fit perfectly with what I was looking for. It took me quite a while to figure out that it was your boyfriend that was writing them. What finally exposed him was that too many of the things in the stories were just too similar to what I had said I was looking for, and some of them could only have been written by him because of what I had said."

"When I was having a bad night, I would lay there and think about the stories and what I would like to see in them. When he came in the next time, I would have a list of things for him, and a few days later, they would start to appear in the stories. I didn't ask him if he was writing them and let him keep his anonymity. I did leave very appreciative comments in the chat room, which I know he read. That is how I met your boyfriend."

"I spent a lot of time just laying in bed. My legs were both in braces and I had pins holding the bones in my left leg in place. My legs were swollen for quite a while, and they weren't a pretty sight, yet he never avoided looking at them, nor did he stare. He always treated me with respect, even when I was mean to him. And when I wasn't feeling good, that was quite often. Some of the other volunteers asked to not be assigned to me, so he became my assigned volunteer."

"Some of the stories he wrote had a dark side to them, and I started to call him 'Chuckee' when I was in a bad mood. The nickname spread around the hospital and they started paging 'Chuckee' when I needed to be moved. We both got a reputation from that."

"As my injuries healed and I was able to move around a little, he started to take me to different places around the hospital. He was also taking some training courses to expand his volunteer skills, so he included me in some of his training as a 'test dummy'. I got to see so much more of the hospital than most people ever do. And I got to see him experience some unusual things. I'm not going to tell you what they were, so don't ask."

I crossed out a couple of questions while she took a sip of her drink.

"My mobility slowly returned until I was able to move my toes again. I had the pins in my leg for a long time as they tried to lengthen it to match my good one. I had what is called an 'Ilizarov splint'. What it does is hold the ends of the bone just slightly apart as they regrow and fill in the gap. That is what the scars on my leg are from. I have a scar on my back from where they removed the bone chips from my spine. That one I have tattooed with a zipper. It only shows when I wear a bikini. And before you ask, I am not getting tattoos on my leg."

Our food had arrived, so we had been eating. Before she started, she had taken her retainers out and placed them on a napkin in front of her. She left them exposed where I could see them. They had wires that wrapped around the back of her teeth, along with a couple of wires that fit over her canines to support the retainer wires near the front. I also noticed that the wires had little bends in them that matched the contours of her teeth. They had an elegant look to them.

After our meal was finished, she continued her story.

"My first legbraces were assembled from parts off the shelf and didn't fit me properly, but they did what they were supposed to, which was keep my legs immobilized. It started above my waist and kept everything below that from moving. Once my back healed enough to be able to get around in a wheelchair, Chuckee included me in as much of his training as was safe for me. I had a lot of fun and learned a lot. By that time, he was driving one of the hospital vans and I got to ride along sometimes."

"When I was finally released from the hospital, I had a set of legbraces custom-made to fit me. I wasn't able to walk and they didn't know if I ever would, but I could get around in the wheelchair, as long as I took it easy."

"As my body got stronger and I was able to stand for short amounts of time, I got new legbraces and more comfortable wheelchairs. Before you ask, Mr. Shoemacher has built all my legbraces for me. That isn't actually his name, but that is what everyone in the hospital calls him."

HotWheels looked at her phone to check the time, then said, "How would you like to see another part of the hospital? We have plenty of time before Mr. Shoemacher will be ready for us. I need to brush my teeth before I put my retainers back in, and I have an extra toothbrush if you want to brush too. It's a habit I developed when I had my braces."

When I nodded, she led me to the washroom where we could clean our teeth. The counter was split into two levels, one of which was at a convenient height for us to roll the chairs under. I watched as she brushed her teeth, and after brushing her retainers as well, inserted them into her mouth again. She smiled at me and I saw up close just how well they fit against her teeth. “Okay, Miss Molly, ready for another adventure?"

When I nodded, she took off down the hall, leaving me to catch up. She never got far enough ahead of me to lose me, but never let me catch up to her. Eventually, she stopped outside a set of glass doors. When I rolled up next to her, she pushed the button and the doors opened for us. We rolled into a waiting room and she went up to the reception desk. The waiting room was empty except for us. After a brief conversation, HotWheels rolled over and said, "We're in luck, they can see me in a few minutes."



Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 10. September 2021, 02:48:19 AM
Chapter 17

I looked around the room, seeing that it looked just like a dentist's office. A few minutes later, the receptionist said that we could go in and led us down the hall to an exam room. HotWheels rolled up beside the dental chair and transferred herself into it. She used her hands to lift her legs onto the foot portion of the chair before leaning back.

I heard footsteps behind me, so I turned my chair to face in that direction. A handsome older man entered the room and asked, "Is something wrong? You don't have an appointment for a few months yet."

HotWheels smiled. "No. I was just in the hospital for a couple of appointments and had some free time, so I figured that I would come and see my favourite orthodontist. By the way, this is my friend IrishMolly. I've been giving her a tour of the hospital and introducing her to some of the people that have helped me get better after my accident. The tour wouldn't be complete without a stop here."

After looking at HotWheels, he turned to me and said, "Have you ever been to an orthodontist's office?" When I shake my head, he continues, "This office is a little different than most ortho offices. We deal with people who have been in accidents or who have problems with their jaws requiring surgery. We don't usually treat patients from start to finish. Your friend here is one of the exceptions."

"Her lower jaw was broken in a couple of places and some of her teeth were loose. The first thing we did was to place surgical brackets on all her teeth. They are heavier than normal brackets and have hooks on all of them." He turned to the side and opened a drawer, then removed a tray to show me the contents. "We weren't that concerned about getting a perfect alignment, our goal was to save as many teeth as possible and stabilize her lower jaw. Did she show you any pictures of what she looked like when she came in?"

HotWheels replies, "I showed her a few with my teeth wired together and the splint in place. The one that had the hole for the feeding tube. I don't think she needs to see the ones before that. Some of those are a little hard to handle."

He nodded in agreement. "Sometimes I forget that not everyone is used to seeing what we fix here. HotWheels was actually one of our less severe cases. Normally we pass the patients on to a regular orthodontist to treat, but she was in the hospital for quite a while with her other injuries, so we had to deal with her. Fortunately, Chuckee was around to help us with her."

Once again, my boyfriend was being mentioned. HotWheels put her hand on mine and said, "I told you that I had a reputation here."

He laughed at that. "She wasn't as bad as she claims to be, although I did threaten to wire her mouth shut again a few times." He looked at her laying in the chair. "Why don't I do a quick retainer check while you're in the chair? Do you have time?"

HotWheels looked at the clock, then said, "Mr. Shoemacher isn't expecting us back for a while yet. I left a couple pairs of shoes for him to work on, and he is doing some work on my legbraces too. Miss Molly doesn't have to be back for her fitting just yet, so let's do it." She opened her mouth as the light was adjusted to shine into her mouth.

I watched as he checked how the retainers fit against her teeth, both inside and outside. Then he checked how her teeth were meeting and I watched as she smiled, exposing the wire running across her teeth. Satisfied with how everything looked, he said, "Good to go for another thousand smiles. Now, back into your chair, Missy."

She sat up and slid her butt into her chair, moving her legs onto the footpads with her hands, then looked at me. "When is the last time you had your teeth looked at?" Before I can answer, she looks at her orthodontist and asks, "Do you have time to do a quick checkup? I'd appreciate it if you would, if you have the time." Then she gave a cheesy grin as she blinked her eyes a few times.

He laughed at her antics. "It is quiet today and I do have the time. Okay, Miss Molly, into the chair with you."

I rolled to the side of the chair and slid my butt over the way she had, then lifted my legs onto the footrest and leaned back. After adjusting the light, he began to check my teeth. I expected it to be just a quick look, but he took his time. I was glad that I had brushed my teeth thoroughly.

"Your teeth are in excellent shape. You take good care of them. If you were someone looking to be a patient of mine, I would suggest that you have braces for about a year or so to align them a little better, but overall, there is nothing that requires attention. The next step in the process would be to do impressions and then a digital scan."

Without even asking me, she said, "Why don't we do that? I've never seen it done from the other side of the chair. It's always been done to me."

He glanced at me and then asked, "Is that okay with you?"

Things were moving a lot faster than I could keep up with, so I just nodded. He opened another drawer and took out some metal tools, selected a couple and had me open my mouth so that he could check how they fit. Satisfied, he began to squeeze a bag of what looked like silly putty, then tore it open and spread it into one of the horseshoe-shaped trays. "Okay, Miss Molly, open wide." He slipped one side into my mouth, then gently pulled my cheek aside to slip the other end into my mouth. He pushed down and held it there for a while, pressing the part that squished out along the edge to check how hard it was. When he pulled up, it felt as if he was pulling on my teeth, until the suction broke. The top teeth went the same way.

"That wasn't bad at all, was it. Have a rinse and then we will do the scan." He handed me a paper cup with mouthwash and waited as I rinsed. I slid back into my chair again, positioned my feet with my hands, then followed them into another room. There were several machines around the sides of the room.

HotWheels pointed to one of them. "This is the scanner. What it does is take a digital scan of your mouth. They use the scan to decide how to move the teeth to get the best alignment. They can also use it when they make retainers and things. They have a machine that bends the wires to match the shape of the teeth. That is what they did with my retainers."

The orthodontist had me roll underneath the machine, then lowered it until I could bite a soft plastic tube comfortably. He stepped back and the head of the machine rotated around my face. "Okay, Miss Molly. All done. If you were my patient and it was an emergency, I could have you in braces in no time at all."
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: napacaster on 10. September 2021, 05:57:50 AM
Excellent story!!! Lots of different things involved in this story. I like it very much! Thanks!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: m1090y on 10. September 2021, 09:17:32 AM
Yes, Excellent.  It's a really great idea of how a person could be writing a story and then their own reality starts to be shaped by the story, yet there is nothing mystical actually going on -- it's just that people in your life happen to be following your story on-line.  I, though, would never have the courage to hang out with people from the forum.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: MikeB on 10. September 2021, 17:53:03 PM
I, though, would never have the courage to hang out with people from the forum.

Yeah man, those guys are definitely a bunch of weirdos. ;D
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 10. September 2021, 19:28:35 PM
I never said which chat room it was. >:D
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 12. September 2021, 18:24:07 PM
Chapter 18

HotWheels looked at the clock and said, "We have to get going. Mr. Shoemacher should be ready for us."

This time, when she raced ahead of me, I stopped and waited until she turned around, then lifted my leg and placed it over my knee again. Then I slowly pushed the wheelchair toward her, slowly rocking in my seat. She knew what I was doing and grinned at me, then waited until I caught up to her. By the time that we got back to Mr. Shoemacher, I had stopped once until my legs stopped shaking and I felt able to continue rolling.

He was waiting for us when we arrived, with the remains of his lunch on the table behind him. "Which of you ladies would like to go first?"

HotWheels looked at me, grinned and said, "I think Miss Molly should be first, and I think that she needs your help with putting them on."

I blushed a little as I shifted myself onto the bench after uncrossing my legs and waited for him to bring my legbraces over. He set them beside my legs, then lifted my foot and removed the shoe that I was wearing. As he placed my leg inside the legbraces, I pulled my skirt up so that my upper thigh was exposed and the material of my skirt was out of the way of the thigh band straps.

It felt different this time as he fastened the brace to my leg. This time it was supporting my leg in all the correct places and felt comfortably snug. He moved to the other side and did the same thing, removing my shoe and lifting my leg into the legbrace after waiting for me to adjust my skirt. Rather than pull my skirt down on the other side, I just pulled it up, leaving the extra material laying between my legs.

As he worked, he explained what he had done. When he had adjusted the struts for the ankle joints, he had replaced them with the same style of locking mechanism that HotWheels had on hers and the shoes that had been altered to fit her braces would fit on mine as well.

When he picked me up so that I could stand, I held onto him a little longer and gave him a hug, pressing my body against his. He was a little surprised by my actions and blushed a little as I let go. I held onto his shoulder until HotWheels brought the crutches over to me and I was able to use them to balance myself. After he did a check of my braces to verify that they fit properly, I said that I would stand for a while and that he should check HotWheels braces too.

She unfastened her skirt, then slid into the bench, slipping out of her skirt, leaving her in her shorts. She waited as he slipped her feet into her new heels and buckled them around her ankles. When he finished fastening the straps holding the braces to be legs, she used her hands to swing her legs off the bench and grasped her crutches. I watched as she leant forward and stood up, propping herself up on the crutches.

As soon as she was stable on her feet, he checked the fit of the knee and thigh bands and asked her how they felt. Before she answered, she crutched over to the full-length mirror. I noticed that her left foot lifted off the floor slightly before her right, and that her left heel was slightly higher when she was standing. She crutched back to Mr. Shoemacher and gave him a hug just a bit longer than the one that I had given him, and pressed her body against him as well, before kissing him on the cheek. This time his blush was a bit more evident.

To cover his reaction, he said, "I billed the alterations made to your old braces as repairs and the insurance company paid for it." Then he turned to me and said, "I should make sure that the alterations to the ankle locks are working right. Do you think that you can sit down on your own or would you like me to give you a hand?"

I shifted around a little, trying to figure out how to sit down, but after a few wobbles, decided I wasn't ready to try that yet. I smiled at him and said, "If you don't mind, I would appreciate your help getting into my wheelchair."

As he bent over to lift me, I put my arm around his neck and pulled his face against my chest. He hesitated briefly before picking me up and placing me into my chair with my feet sticking out in front of me. I didn’t remove my arm from behind his neck until I had squirmed a little, getting myself comfortable in the chair.

He did his best to act professionally, but I saw that he had to discreetly adjust himself before he brought the other pair of shoes over. He unlaced my shoes and removed them from my feet, then disconnected the locks holding the metal plates beneath my feet. As he slipped the new shoes into place on my feet, sliding the supports into the ankle joints, I knew that there was no way that I could walk in them. They felt very comfortable, but there was no support on the sides of my feet. When he released the knee locks on my braces and placed my feet on the footpads, I also noticed that my left leg rested just slightly higher than my right.

I rolled over to the mirror and looked at myself, then pulled my skirt above my knees to get an idea of how they would look with a shorter skirt. When I spun around in my wheelchair, I found that he had moved behind the counter. While I rolled over to HotWheels, I watched as she bent forward until it looked as if she was about to fall over and undid the knee locks on her braces, then sat down on the bench. It looked a little awkward, and she misjudged the height of the bench just a little, but she ended up where she was aiming. Then she slid herself into her wheelchair and positioned her feet on the footrest.

Mr. Shoemacher had placed everything but the crutches that HotWheels was using back into the canvas bag. She rolled over to the counter and placed them on top for him to add to the bag. I didn't know how we would be able to take it with us, but that was solved by the arrival of my boyfriend.

As soon as he saw us sitting there, side by side, a big smile spread across his face. I held my arms out to him so that I could give him a hug, and when he bent over, I pulled his face to mine and kissed him instead. The kiss lasted longer than he expected and not as long as I wanted.

Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 14. September 2021, 07:42:03 AM
Chapter 19

We left Mr. Shoemachers office for the van. I tried to cross my legs again, but the legbraces restricted my movements a little too much. I found that I was using my body differently as we rolled through the halls, using more of my upper body muscles. When we got to the van, Chuckee asked me, "Do you want to ride in the front with me or in the back with HotWheels just like a regular passenger?"

She didn't give me a chance to reply. "She's going to ride with me. Us girls are going to have a little talk about shoes and clothes while you drive to my place."

Chuckee just shrugged and lowered the lift for me, then helped me get into position in the van once I was inside. As he finished strapping my chair into place, I took his face into my hands again and kissed him the way that I had wanted to in Mr. Shoemachers office, with plenty of tongue.

The ride to HotWheels place didn't seem long enough to talk about everything that we had on our minds, but she did tell me that I could 'borrow' the wheelchair, crutches and legbraces for as long as I wanted, as long as I wrote her a story. She also insisted that she lend me a few pairs of shoes to wear with the legbraces. I waited in the van while Chuckee went with her to collect the extra shoes. While I waited, I made a few notes for the next chapters of my story and started a file for a new story.

When Chuckee returned, I had him move me to the front seat of the van so that I could sit beside him and talk easier. I also told him that he was going to have supper with me and that we needed to pick up some food and something to drink. He ordered a couple of pizzas and stopped at a liquor store for some wine coolers while we waited for the pizzas. It didn't really matter what we had, I just wanted his company for the evening.

As soon as we got into my apartment, I found that it wasn't exactly handicapped-friendly. I had a few too many small tables scattered around and I had to be careful how I maneuvered around them. The doorways were wide enough for the wheelchair to fit through, but I had to watch that I didn't accidentally pinch my fingers. He was carrying the pizzas and drinks, so I didn't notice that the kitchen counters were too high for me to reach on top of them from the wheelchair. While he went back to the van to get the bag with the crutches and shoes, I tried to set the table for us. Everything in my kitchen was placed out of reach for someone in a wheelchair.

Instead of trying to stand up in the heels I had on, I rolled into the living room and transferred onto the couch. By the time that he returned, I had the computer on and was working on another chapter of my story. Without me even asking, he set the table for us and moved one chair away from the table so that I could fit the wheelchair under it. When I saw what he had done, I smiled at him and transferred back into my wheelchair, letting my skirt slide up above my knees and exposing the leather straps around my knees. I was happy when I saw him watching how I moved.

As we ate, I told him about what HotWheels and I did while he was gone, including visiting her orthodontist. All I said was that she had her retainers checked, leaving out the part about having my teeth checked and the impressions and scan done. I did go into more detail about both of the visits to Mr. Shoemacher and having lunch in the cafeteria.

He wanted more information about the part where we were trying on the shoes, so I suggested that he pick out a pair of low-heeled shoes for me and try it for himself. Rather than transfer to the couch by myself, I described how Mr. Shoemacher had lifted us. When Chuckee did the same thing, I pulled his face into my chest and held it there until he started to kiss my skin. Giggling, I pushed his face away.

I kept my knees slightly bent so that the locks wouldn't engage, then told him how to change my shoes. He sat down by my feet and placed them on his lap and I shifted closer to him so that my knees were bent more. As he worked on the foot farther away from him, I rested my metal-encased knee against his chest and felt just how excited he was, against the side of my foot. So that I could see what he was doing and tell him what needed to be done, I pulled my skirt above my knees and let the material drape between them. Eventually, he figured out how to disengage the locks holding my shoe on and was able to remove it. Removing the second shoe didn't take long, and putting the new shoes on went fast.

I wanted to brush my teeth after eating, so I transferred into my wheelchair and rolled into the bathroom. I found that the sink was just a little too high to be able to brush my teeth from the wheelchair, so I grasped the edges of the counter, and following what I had seen HotWheels do, pulled myself upright until my knees locked into position. As long as I used one hand to steady myself it was easy to stay upright. Getting back into my wheelchair was a little more difficult, but I just bent over at the waist until I was almost falling forward and then disengaged the knee locks and sat down. Having the counter to hold onto really helped.

Before returning to the living room, I decided to change into something a little easier to maneuver in. The knee-length skirt was fine if I stayed in the chair, but it tended to bunch up and get in the way every time I transferred out of the chair. I looked through my closet, but everything was hanging out of reach, and I didn't want to try standing again without something solid to hang onto. My armoire was much more accessible and there were a few short dresses hanging alongside my skirts and blouses.

One caught my eye and I knew that it would be perfect for lounging around with my boyfriend. It had buttons running from the neck to the hem at the bottom and I could leave as many undone as I wanted. I slipped out of my skirt and took off my blouse, looked at what I still had on, then decided that all I needed was the garterbelt and stockings. Getting the dress on was easy, all I had to do was lift myself enough to slide it underneath me and slip my arms into the sleeves. It didn't take long to do up the buttons, because I left a fair amount undone.

When I returned to the living room, he was reading the latest chapters of the stories I had been working on, so I transferred to the couch and snuggled up against him and read along. I saw a few things that I wasn't happy with, so when he finished reading them, I took the keyboard and mouse and reworded and changed them. When I got to the end of the story I was working on for HotWheels, I began to add more to it. He didn't seem to mind that I was working on the story and put his arm over my shoulders, moving closer to me.

I was writing about the character getting ready for a date and what she was wearing, and not wearing, when he moved his hand to my leg and began to run his fingers along my braces. I found that it was easier for me to write about things that I knew, and HotWheels had asked for a few details to be used. My female character was disabled and used a wheelchair.

When I got to the part where they returned to her apartment after the date, I wrote about them sitting on the couch and what she wished would happen. I put a few lines on the screen, then removed them and changed them to be more descriptive. As my boyfriend read the new lines, his hands copied what was on the screen. I was getting a little thirsty, so I wrote that her boyfriend brought her a glass of juice to drink.

My Chuckee got up and went to the kitchen. While he was gone, I added several lines to the story and waited until he returned. When he set the glass where I could reach it easily, then read the new lines, he smiled and slid in behind me. When he was settled in place and I had adjusted my position against his chest, I resumed typing. His hands copied the actions of the story on the screen, massaging my shoulders, then moving down my sides. As he got farther down, his hands moved to my back, then underneath my arms.

It became a game, me writing and him matching the story with his actions. We eventually reached a point in the story where I had to stop writing. I reluctantly moved his hands away from my body and transferred to my wheelchair, then told him to join me in the bedroom so that I could do some research for the story.

I told him to lay on the bed and stay still, then transferred from my chair to the bed and got onto my knees after a bit of a struggle. I was able to get myself positioned with my braced legs on either side of his body and kiss him, but the braces restricted my movements too much to do more. Then I shifted my body to the side until I fell over and landed on the bed. After he moved to the far side of the bed, I moved so that I was laying in the middle of the bed with my braced legs bent to keep the knee locks from engaging.

I had already told him that I was basing many of my female character’s attributes on myself, and his hands had verified much of the information from the story already. I explained to him in detail just what kind of research I wanted to conduct, then I used my hands to move my left foot farther from my right and let my knees relax. The braces kept my legs from falling to the side and spreading apart like they would normally.

What I wanted was for 'Robert' to relieve the feelings that had been building all day. What I got was 'Chuckee' taking me to the edge, keeping me there, then backing off and letting the feelings ebb, only to take me back to the edge again. He started by using his tongue and lips to follow where his hands had been on my lower legs along the edges of the braces, before moving to my neck, shoulders and the edges of the dress over my chest. Some of the buttons had been left undone when I had changed into the dress, and more had been undone while I had been working on the story in the living room. More got undone as 'Chuckee's' tongue and lips explored the places that his hands had been. With the few remaining buttons still fastened, I was still decently covered and nothing was exposed.

That lasted until 'Chuckee' kissed behind my knee and my legs began to shake a little. After that, he visually verified that my description of how thorough my character's morning grooming had been was accurate. His tongue didn't touch any bare skin on my legs, staying along the metal struts of my braces and the stockings beneath them.

After a while, he moved up and spent some time kissing my neck and lips, before verifying just how little I had said my character was wearing. I did my best to get my braced legs around his back and pull him against me, but all I was capable of doing was hooking my ankles over the back of his spread legs. He did put his hands behind my knees and lift them, but didn't get them high enough to go over his shoulders. We spent quite a bit of time conducting research into what it was possible to do wearing legbraces. By the time that we were both satisfied by our research, it was early in the morning. I finally let him remove my legbraces before we both fell asleep with his arm holding me tight to his chest.

Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: eddiestobbart on 19. September 2021, 12:58:50 PM
Another really good chapter - I like the split personality between Robert and Chuckee.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 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.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 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.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 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.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: MetallicTaste on 16. January 2022, 17:17:53 PM
I'm really enjoying to where the story is heading. Hoping to read what happens next.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Lithpkith on 09. February 2022, 22:06:09 PM
Gweat thtowy tho faw! Love the detailed dethcwitionth and chawactew development. Pleath continue when you have time! Thank you tho much!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 09. February 2022, 22:57:48 PM
To everyone that has been commenting on TheArchive, Thank you for supporting me. Almost everyone who I have asked has given me permission to copy their stories. There is no requirement for me to ask for permission, since the stories are posted to public forums and sites.

I do it out of respect to the authors and ask that they send me any other stories that they write or that they have written that I don't have. Some have been very generous in helping me.

I have a read-me file that explains how to have stories removed and how to contribute to TheArchive. At this time, Dun is the only one who has asked to have any stories removed.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 09. February 2022, 23:11:27 PM
I am still working on more chapters of this story. I haven't had much urge to write lately, and don't like to post stuff that I am not happy with. I will add more to this story, just be patient. I am also working on a few other stories that I feel a need to continue adding to.

I go through periods where my creative juices decrease and my stories suffer as a consequence.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 16. February 2022, 15:54:10 PM
Chapter 23

I heard things being moved around on the tray and then Sheila said, "HotWheels asked for this device and one modification was made to it. I'm sure you've heard of a face-bow and maybe seen pictures of people wearing it. This one has an additional feature to hold it in place." She placed something in my hands and moved my right hand to the end of a wire. "There are clips on the ends of the inner wire to keep it from sliding out of the tubes on the molar bands. Just press down on the clip and it will release." She moved my finger to one of the clips and pressed on it. "After the face-bow is adjusted, I'll show you how to release it from the tubes. The neck-strap for the face-bow should be left as loose as possible and still look as if it is working, the clips will stop the face-bow from sliding out."

I felt her fingers slip between my lips and then I had a vague sensation of her doing something at the back of my mouth. I opened wider and waited as she moved my head from side to side. Her fingers slipped out and I heard her doing something beside me. Her fingers returned briefly and there was a click, and when she removed her fingers and pressed up on my chin, there was a wire between my lips. This was followed by her slipping a cloth strap around the back of my neck. There was a slight tug on the face-bow and just a little pressure on the back of my neck before she asked, "How does that feel?"

More sensation had returned to my tongue and gums, and I was able to feel that there were things in my mouth that hadn't been there before. The most noticeable was the wire between my lips. The wire was pushing up on my top lip slightly and I found that I had to bring my bottom lip up just a little to close my mouth completely. I tried to get my top lip behind the wire, but there wasn't enough space between the wire and my top teeth. Then I attempted to put my lips over the wire so that they would meet in front of the wire, but it just felt weird to have my lips stretched that far. When I let my lips relax and meet as naturally as possible, it felt as if I was smiling, so that's what I did. It was just barely a smile, but it was still a smile.

I was curious about what they had done in the back of my mouth, and with some feeling back in my tongue, I was finally able to explore a little. As the feeling had returned, I had felt something against the edges of my tongue, and I ran the tip over the inner surface of my teeth. When I got to my molars, I found the rings that had been placed around them. I was surprised to find that there were eight rings at the back, not four, and that the top and bottom molars all had rings. With a little more exploration, I noticed that they all had tubes on the inside and that the tubes on the front bands were closer to my gums than the back bands.

I spread my teeth slightly, keeping my lips together, and ran my tongue over the outer surface of my teeth. It felt strange to have my tongue between the wire and my teeth as I moved to the back of my mouth. I had to move my tongue to the outside of the wire as I got closer to the back because the space between my teeth and the wire decreased at the back. Just as on the inside, there were tubes on the outside, and the tubes were closer to the gums on the front tubes.

The creaking of the joints on HotWheels legbraces increased as she waited for my reply, and I could hear that Sheila was shifting beside me as well. There was also a new creaking from the
area of my feet and I realized that I was flexing my ankles and toes. I normally wouldn't have noticed the sounds, but my hearing seemed to be more acute, probably because my ears were trying to make up for the lack of sight.

I was curious about the wire that was on the outside of my mouth, so I brought my hands up to my face and ran them along the wire, starting at the front and moving to the back. My fingertips reached the ends of the wire and explored the way that the wire connected to the strap, then moved along the strap to my neck. A picture formed in my mind of what I must look like with my hands touching my face and the artificial smile created by the pressure of the face-bow on my top lip turned into a real one.

My tongue had been playing with the bands on my molars and the ends of the face-bow attached to them. I was still curious about how the inner and outer wires of the face-bow came together between my lips, so I opened my lips and ran my tongue to where the joint was. My tongue sent messages to my brain and a picture formed. My smile got bigger as ideas for my stories coalesced.

I was momentarily distracted from my thoughts as HotWheels said, "I think she likes it. At least she isn't trying to pull it out. And look at that smile on her face."

The next voice I heard was the doctors. "If you ladies don't mind, I'm going to go to my office and do some paperwork while you all are playing." His next comment was directed at me, "I'll keep my door open and I'll be listening for your scream. If they do anything that you don't like, just call for me."

I was too busy exploring my mouth to answer him, but I heard him walking away. As his footsteps faded away, I noticed a clicking sound, then I realized that it was coming from my knees. I was trying to rub my legs together, and the knee joints of the leg-braces were stopping my legs from bending. The clicking was coming from the locks on the knee joints. The girls heard it too and HotWheels said, "She IS enjoying it."

I wanted to know how to take off and put on the face-bow, so I fumbled with the strap until I disconnected it, then ran my fingers along the wire until I felt the joint between the inner and outer wires of the bow. My fingers paused to feel the joint and a better picture formed in my mind of what the face-bow looked like. I tugged on it a little just to see if it would move, but it was firmly locked to my molars, so I moved my fingers along the inner wire until I felt where the ends entered the tubes.

Sheila had said that there were clips on the ends to hold it in place, but I couldn't figure out how they worked, even though I tried. Sheila must have been watching me, because she said, "I'll do it this time and describe what I am doing, then I'll have you do it with me guiding you." I removed my fingers from my mouth, closed my lips and swallowed the saliva that had built up. Then I spread my lips again and waited for her. "The clips are facing downwards on the back molars and the face-bow fits into the bottom tubes. The top tubes are for something else. Run your fingers along the bottom of the face-bow, just like I am doing." I felt her fingers against the inside of my cheeks as they slid towards the back of my mouth. "The part you press on is just in front of the tube. Press up and pull forward on the face-bow. If you find it easier, do one side at a time and use your free hand to pull on the wire." There was a change to the pressure she was exerting on the face-bow and I closed my lips around her fingers.

I could hear the amusement in her voice as she chuckled and waited for me to open them again. When I didn't, she slowly pulled her fingers out, taking the face-bow along with them. "I'm going to get you to put it back in with my help. Most people use a mirror at first until they get used to inserting it, but I'm not going to allow you to do it that way. You're just going to have to do it as if you are blind."

I didn't know just how much she knew, but if she had read or listened to most of my stories, she had probably connected the dots. She put the face-bow in my hand and waited for me to bring it to my face. I explored the ends of the face-bow, forming a picture of what I thought the clips looked like and how I thought that they worked. When I felt that I had as much information as I was likely to have without seeing the face-bow, I slipped it between my cheeks and teeth, then followed the instructions that Sheila gave me. I found it quite easy to line up one side at a time and clip it into place. After taking it out and putting it back in a few times, the muscles in my cheeks were getting sore from smiling so much.

It wasn't until HotWheels asked me what I thought of the face-bow that I realized that I hadn't said anything yet. I closed my mouth, pressing my lips against the face-bow, then tried to talk. "It feelsh shtrange having the wire between my lipsh. I'm not ushed to it being there." Then I began to giggle at the way I sounded. “I have a lishp.” I inserted my fingers, pressed on the clips holding the face-bow in place and removed it. “What about now, do I still have a lisp?”

I heard the creak of HotWheels legbraces and the click of her crutches as she moved closer to me, then the sound of the knee joints on her legbraces releasing, followed by the squeak of the chair beside me. Her voice came from lower and closer to my head as I realized that she had sat down in the chair that the doctor had been in.

“That isn’t good enough. She needs to have more of a lisp than that. Let’s try something else.” I heard things moving around on the tray. “That will definitely affect her, but let’s save that for a while yet.” There was the sound of a plastic box being opened and then HotWheels gasped, “You did make them. Will they work? Will they stay in place without moving around?”

Sheila explained that the wire was heavy enough and stiff enough to not flex, and that the wires at the back would slip into the tubes on the outside of front and back bands to provide a stable anchor point. I had no idea what she was talking about, but Hotwheels obviously did. "Let's save that one. I don't want her to get those yet." There was a pause and then I heard Sheila say, "She won't be able to install and remove some of these by herself. These are all real appliances, they've just been modified so that they will fit into the tubes on her molar bands instead of being bonded directly to her teeth. She's going to need someone who can see into her mouth to put them in for her. Once they are adjusted to correctly fit her mouth, just about anybody can do it for her. Some of them have are going to be quite visible when they are in place."

I heard the sounds of plastic containers being opened and closed, and then Sheila laughed. “How about we give her these. Once they are installed, she can take them out herself. The guy who made them designed them with bands that fit over her lower canines and will stay in place using denture adhesive.”

I was getting the feeling that I was going to have little say in what was being done to me.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 03. March 2022, 12:46:43 PM
Chapter 24

Since they were not interested in my opinion, I stayed silent and let them discuss my fate. I still had the face-bow in my hand, and with my tongue not being numb anymore, I wanted to explore my mouth in greater detail. While they kept discussing the various options of what they could use on me, I used my tongue to explore the bands on my molars. All of the bands had tubes on them on the inside and outside of my teeth, with the bands nearer to the front having them closer to my gums. I already knew that the face-bow was supposed to go into the tubes on the top rear molars, but the reason for the rest of the tubes was a bit of a mystery to me, especially why I had so many of them.

I probably should have been paying more attention to what they were talking about, but I was more interested in what they had already done to me. There was only so much I could do with my tongue, so I used my fingertips to add to the picture that was forming in my mind of what my mouth probably looked like now. As that picture developed more, I found that it seemed to include the face-bow, so rather than just try and picture it in my mind, I slipped it back into my mouth.

Just like the glasses, contacts, and the legbraces and other accessories, I was finding that there was something fascinating about the molar bands and face-bow. Even though I had just been given the face-bow, and it wasn’t attached to the neck-strap yet, it felt comfortable having it in my mouth. That changed as soon as the strap started to pull against my neck. The joints on the ankles and knees of my legbraces creaked as I tried to rub my legs together. I was enjoying the feeling of the slight pressure on my molars from the face-bow and the changes to the pressure as I moved my head around, when I was interrupted by a hand on my shoulder.

"Open your mouth for me, it's time for us to fit the next device into your mouth." I realized just how distracted I had been as I opened my mouth so that Sheila could insert a plastic object that spread my lips in all directions, preventing me from closing my mouth. All I could do was sit there as her fingers went into my mouth and placed things around my lower canines, removed them and put them back into my mouth again, this time pressing them firmly into place, then scraping something from around them. I could feel her doing things inside my mouth, I just couldn't tell what she was doing. My lips weren't close to touching my teeth, and her fingers were in the way of my tongue. I felt her press something down over my lower teeth, then a similar item over my top teeth and something was resting behind my teeth when she was done.

When she removed the plastic device that had been holding my lips open, from my mouth, then said, "Close your mouth slowly and tell me if anything pinches," I found out that she had put more in than I had thought. The first thing my lips encountered were two rods fastened to my lower canines, running upwards to my top front molars. That was followed by my bottom lip slipping over what felt like a fairly thick wire with bends that matched the contours of my teeth. My top lip came to rest against the wire of my face-bow. My mouth felt strange as my teeth came together, as if something was restricting the side-to-side movement of my lower jaw. I was finally able to use my tongue again, and quickly discovered that there were thin pieces of what felt like smooth acrylic pressed against my gums on the back of my upper and lower teeth. As I ran my tongue along the bottom piece, it encountered two metal bands, one on each of my lower canines.

When I explored what had been placed on my upper jaw, I found that the upper device had something that the lower one didn’t, a piece of wire with bends that projected into my mouth, that ran from canine tooth to canine tooth behind my teeth. There was almost enough space between my upper palate and the wire to just about fit my tongue into it. When I tried, the acrylic stopped my tongue from slipping into the gap.

Both the top and bottom acrylic pieces stopped just in front of the forward molars and a heavy wire emerged from the back, wrapped around the back molars, becoming the contoured wires that ran along my front teeth. When I opened my mouth and ran my tongue behind my face-bow, I found a wire running along my upper teeth, matching the wire on my bottom teeth. I discovered that I had considerably more metal in my mouth than I had first thought.

After thoroughly running my tongue over everything on the outside of my teeth, paying special attention to the rods running between my lower canines and my upper molars, and feeling how the outer rods slid over the inner rods, a big smile spread over my face. I still didn’t know what I looked like with everything that had been added to my mouth, but the picture in my mind was probably more extreme than what it actually was. I needed more information about what had been done, so I brought my hands to my lips and used my fingertips to explore as much of my mouth as I could. The most fascinating parts were how the pistons moved on and out while restricting the side-to-side movement of my lower jaw, and how the face-bow just barely cleared the pistons as I opened and closed my mouth.

Without even being asked, I tried to tell Sheila that everything felt fine. As I tried to talk, I found that it wasn’t going to be quite as easy to speak as I thought. As soon as I opened my mouth and tried to say, “Other than feeling a bit weird, everything feels fine,” my tongue kept bouncing off of the wire behind my top teeth, distorting my speech. That, combined with the face-bow between my lips, caused the T’s in my speech to be distorted to ‘TH’ and the S’s to “SH’, so that it sounded more like, “Other than feeling a bith wierth, eferything feelth fife.” They both laughed as I added, “I hafe eden more of a lithf now.”

 I reached up to take off the blindfold covering my eyes, but HotWheels stopped me before I could loosen it. “Leave it on a while longer. We don’t want you to see what else we have on the tray just yet.” Then she spoke to Sheila. “That is the effect I was hoping for. Just enough to give her a lisp and still be able to understand her when she is reading her stories. How about we save the rest of the devices for another time.”

I could hear things being moved around on the tray beside me, then things became quiet again. The back of my chair began to move to an upright position and, when I was sitting upright, a pair of hands moved my head forward enough to remove the blindfold from my eyes. I blinked a few times, getting used to the light in the room. When I was able to focus clearly, I looked to my right, then my left. Both of them were grinning at me and Sheila was holding a mirror in her lap with it facing down.

Sheila asked me, "Are you ready to see what we did to you? Keep in mind that other than the bands on your molars, everything is easily removable." When I nodded that I was, she turned the reflective surface of the mirror towards me and held it so that I could see myself in it. After letting me look briefly, she said, "Let me explain how everything works, and then you can ask me any questions that you have."

Again I nodded, then waited as she started. "The most visible item is the face-bow. If you want to remove it for me now, I'll show you how the clips work." Removing it was relatively easy, though the additional hardware in my mouth gave me more to get my fingers around. It would have been easier if I had unfastened the strap first, but it didn't occur to me. As soon as the face-bow came loose and I tried to get it out, the strap around my neck tightened and I had to use one hand to hold the face-bow while I unfastened the strap. When I pulled it out of my mouth and looked at it, the wire of the face-bow didn't look as thick as it had felt between my lips, and the clips were much smaller than they had felt against my fingers.

Sheila waited as I examined the face-bow before saying, "You are already reasonably familiar with how to install and remove the face-bow. Just make sure that the clips are facing down and that you use the bottom tubes on the back molars."

"The next thing visible are the pistons connecting your jaws. The whole device is called a Herbst. Normally they would be connected to the bands on your molars on top and to bands cemented to your canines on the bottom. The bands on your canines are held in place by denture adhesive and will just slip off with a bit of pressure, and the residue will come off when you brush your teeth. The bottom of the pistons are connected directly to the bands and you don't have to worry about disconnecting them. The other end of the pistons are connected to heavy wires that fit into the top tubes on the bands on your front molars and are held in place with clips, just the same as the face-bow. Leave it in for now, you can experiment with it a little later. The Herbst can be worn by itself or with the face-bow, and can also be worn in combination with the next items."

“The wires running along your teeth are retainers. The acrylic has been moulded to match the back of your teeth as closely as possible so that they are providing support to stop your teeth from moving. The little bends in the wire against your teeth are doing the same thing. Normally the acrylic would extend to the molars, but these are designed so that other items can be added to the inside of your mouth without the retainers interfering. If you are wearing the Herbst appliance, the retainers go in after you install the Herbst. The retainers can be worn alone or in combination with the Herbst and headgear.”

“The top retainer has a tongue crib attached to it. The tongue crib is a totally unnecessary device, but I had it added just for the fun of it. Normally it would be used to stop you from pushing against your front teeth if you had teeth that were protruding, and it will serve the same purpose now, just that it will stop you from pushing against them and moving them when you are playing with the toys in your mouth.”

“You should be able to put in and remove everything by yourself, though installing the Herbst bands on your canines might be easier if you have some help. I’ll give you a couple of tubes of denture adhesive. This is stuff we use in the hospital and is stronger than what is sold in stores. Any questions so far?”

It seemed to me that she had covered everything so far, but I did have one question, so I asked her, “How long will I have thith lithp? Will it go away or ith it a permanent thing?” Without the face-bow between my lips, my pronunciation was much better.

They both grinned at me and HotWheels said, “That will depend on how much you wear the retainers. The more you wear them, the better your speech will become. Don’t worry about the lisp going away. We have other things that we can use to affect your speech. I remembered what you said about wishing that you had something to give you a lisp for when you are recording some of your stories and how you used a whitening tray before. When I asked Sheila about what could be done, she suggested giving you retainers."

Sheila handed me the mirror so that I could take a closer look at my mouth. While I examined what had been put into my mouth without my consent, they took turns explaining how they had come up with the idea to do this to me.

They had gone out for a drink and something to eat on the weekend, and HotWheels had played the latest chapter that I had sent her. As they had listened, a comment had been made about how different it would sound if it had been read with a lisp. They didn’t remember who made the original comment, but Sheila said that a simple retainer would do nicely to create the right amount of lisp. After a bit more conversation, HotWheels had said that she could probably do something about adding the lisp to the recording because she knew who was recording the stories. They had both had a couple of drinks before their food came and were feeling pretty relaxed, and they had begun to talk about other ways to create a lisp.

Sheila had been playing one of the stories over the office speakers at work the next week, and she remembered what they had talked about. The idea of making a retainer for the person reading the story kept coming back every time that she tried to dismiss it, until finally she had called HotWheels and asked what she thought about the idea of making a retainer.

After getting together for a meal after work, and a drink for both of them, they decided to give it a try. When Sheila asked how they were going to get a model of my teeth to make it, HotWheels said that they already had one. They had it at the hospital from when I had visited her orthodontist for her retainer check-up. The idea to make the rest of the appliances had happened as a result of too much to drink and Hotwheels letting slip that I had done some of the things described in the stories. By then, my audio recordings had already started to circulate among the hospital staff and were popular listening material.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Lithpkith on 03. March 2022, 23:35:25 PM
Gweat thtowy! I’m fully enjoying thith! Thankth fow wwighting!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 15. March 2022, 14:34:00 PM
Chapter 25

I kept looking at everything that had been placed in my mouth. It all looked so real. And I liked how I looked with everything. When they got to the part about deciding to have more than just a retainer made, I stopped them and said, "Is there a bigger mirror around, I want to have a better look at what you did to me."

Sheila just handed me my crutches and said, "Follow us, we'll show you where to go."

I still had the face-bow in my hand, so I slipped it back into my mouth, locking the clips in place and fastened the strap again. I moved my legs to the edge of the chair, unlocked the knee joints on my legbraces and lowered my feet to the floor, then stood up using the crutches that Sheila handed to me. HotWheels had lent them to me, after telling me that I could borrow them until I decided to get a pair of my own. As I adjusted my balance, I found that the legbraces felt different, that they were supporting more of my weight than I was used to and that my legs were a bit wobbly. I giggled a little as I realized just how much of an effect the whole experience was having on me.

I found that my swing-through gait was slightly different as I relied on the legbraces a little more to support me as I followed Sheila. HotWheels had been here many times before, so she already knew where to go and had crutched off ahead of us and was waiting for us by the sinks. Even though it was an orthodontist's office, it was still in a hospital and had been designed for patients with a variety of levels of mobility. One sink was at wheelchair level, one was at normal counter height, and a third was at the level for someone using crutches so that they wouldn’t have to bend over as far to rinse.

Beside each sink was a container holding single-use toothbrushes in a wide variety of colours. When Sheila saw me looking at them, she said, “Go ahead and brush your teeth. I know that you’re wondering what it is like and just can’t wait to try it.”

I’d done it before while wearing the legbraces, a couple of times while in the wheelchair, which didn’t work very well because I couldn’t get close enough to the sink and the counter was too high. Brushing while wearing crutches was easier, though it required a little accommodation to account for having an altered stance. The easiest way was to use one crutch for balance and lean against the counter with my legs for better stability. The counter in my bathroom came to about halfway between my knees and my thighs while wearing heels.

I positioned myself in front of the sink, rested one crutch against the wall and selected a pale-pink-handled toothbrush. As soon as I began to brush, I knew that I was in trouble. The counter was higher than the one in my bathroom and my upper thighs were resting against it. In order to maintain my balance while brushing, I had to spread my feet a bit to create a tripod stance. Every time that my arm moved to brush my teeth, my hips moved too, and they were pressed against the counter. I tried to ignore the movement of my hips against the counter by concentrating on watching the brush try to navigate around everything in my mouth.

They hadn't said anything to me about removing my face-bow first and it hadn't occurred to me, so by the time that I realized it, my mouth was full of toothpaste. What I was really having trouble getting around were the pistons of the Herbst. No matter what angle I tried, they were in the way. I found that opening my mouth fairly wide and moving my lips off of my teeth was the best way to get at my teeth to brush them. They were both laughing at me as I was attempting to brush my teeth. I knew how funny I looked because I was looking at myself in the mirror.

The more I tried to brush, the harder it became. The problem wasn't trying to get around all the metal in my mouth, it was the height of the counter and the way my hips were pressed against it. It was a good thing that I was wearing the legbraces, because the muscles in my upper thighs had been twitching for quite a while and the legbraces had taken more and more of my weight. I finally had to give up trying to brush my teeth, set the toothbrush on the edge of the sink, and tried to ride out the spasms enveloping my body, which was a problem in itself, because the spasms were part of what was causing my hips to rub against the counter.

I did my best to not show what was going on, but it was evident that I didn't do a good job from the looks on their faces. They just left me there, propped up against the counter, until I was able to regain enough control to push myself away from the counter.

HotWheels waited until I was rinsing the toothpaste from my mouth before she asked, "Do you want your wheelchair or do you think that you can make it back into the treatment room under your own power?" Her timing was perfect, and they laughed as I spat toothpaste all over the sink. I tried to give her a dirty look after I wiped my face, but I couldn't manage it.

I did make it back to the treatment chair, though I had to take my time because of how the legbraces rubbed against my stocking-clad thighs. As I settled myself into the chair, Sheila said, "I think that we've done enough to you for today. We'll save the rest for next time, because I assume there is going to be a next time. Now, if you lay back, I'll show you how to take everything out and clean it."

I just looked at her and tried to say, "Don't you dare. You can tell me what to do to clean everything, but I have other plans for later on." The tongue crib and face-bow got in the way and distorted my speech.

They both laughed, and then Sheila had me hold the mirror while she used one of the picks to point to the various parts in my mouth and explain what had to be done. When she was convinced that I had been paying attention to what she had told me and not just looking at all the metal in my mouth, she said, "We're all done here. There is nothing else on the schedule for today, so why don't we go for coffee. If there is an emergency, my beeper will go off and I'll have to leave, so it'll have to be at one of the places in the hospital."

HotWheels didn't give me a chance to respond, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway. It seemed that we had both agreed to spend some more time at the hospital. She was my ride home unless I wanted to have to deal with trying to arrange alternate transportation. It seemed that my plan to go home and enjoy my new toys had been altered.

Sheila took my crutches, clipped them to the back of my wheelchair and positioned the chair beside me, then lowered the treatment chair to the same height as the wheelchair for me to transfer. HotWheels was already in her chair by the time that I was settled in mine and they were both waiting for me. Sheila guided us through the halls, but not to where I expected.

The place we arrived at looked more like the food court in a mall than a cafeteria in a hospital. It even felt like one, right down to the smells and variety of places to buy food. I saw a Starbucks, a Subway, and several other big-name restaurants. We came out on the second level and most of the places on the level were dine-in, with the places on the main level being walk-up service. To one side was a glass-walled elevator.

I was the first one into the elevator, and as I rolled in, I felt as if everyone was looking at me. I realized that my hands were in front of my face, trying to hide the face-bow protruding from my lips when they both started laughing at me. It was HotWheels that said, “Relax, nobody cares that you are wearing it. This is part of the rehab building. Everything here is designed to get the patients ready to return to life outside the hospital. For some patients, it is to get them used to people seeing them with their injuries. Look around you.”

She was right. Quite a few of the people around me were in wheelchairs or on crutches. Others had visible injuries. Something else that I noticed was that many of the people working in the place had some form of injury.

HotWheels pointed to one of the upstairs restaurants and said, “I spent quite a lot of time there. At first, all I could do was welcome people to the restaurant, but as I got more mobility, I was able to guide them to their table, and eventually learnt how to waitress while using a wheelchair.” She pointed to one of the counters on the main floor. “I worked there for a while as well. Once I was able to stand using the legbraces, I took orders and worked the register.” She pointed to a guy with one arm clearing dishes and wiping down the tables on the main floor. “Sometimes it is just about teaching people how to do things differently than they are used to, other times it is about teaching people how to do things with the tools available to them now,” and she pointed to a young woman with prosthetic arms carrying a tray of food. Both had uniforms on for the restaurants they were working for.

Sheila added, “We also use this area to train our staff and volunteers how to work with patients. Sometimes the hardest thing is to learn when a patient needs to be left on their own to adapt to their injury. Not all injuries are outwardly visible.” She pointed to an older lady wearing wrap-around sunglasses working at a counter. “She lost her sight in an accident. Most people can’t tell that she is blind except that she doesn’t look at what she is doing. She teaches other people with vision difficulties how to adapt.”

I looked around at all the people. Nobody was looking at me. I forced myself to lower my hands. I felt my face warm up as I pushed my wheelchair towards a table sheltered by a plant where I could try and hide. HotWheels let me get settled before she said, “If you want something to drink, you’ll have to get it yourself. We aren’t your servants and there aren't any waiters and waitresses on the main floor. It is strictly self-serve.”

I reached up to remove the strap holding my face-bow, but Hotwheels said, “Leave it in, you need to learn how to talk with it in so that your lisp isn’t so bad, and it will be good for you to experience what it is like having to deal with a speech impediment. I didn’t have the option of just removing whatever was in my mouth after my accident. Besides, it will be a training opportunity for whoever takes your order.”

As much as I wanted to take the face-bow out, I had to agree with her. It was a good opportunity to get some experience that I could use in one of my stories, and it would be in an environment that I hoped I could feel safe in. I left the strap attached to my face-bow and rolled towards my first encounter with a stranger while learning how to talk and make myself understood with my new toys.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Lithpkith on 15. March 2022, 18:14:36 PM
Thweet! Thank you fow continuing with thith thtowy. I’m looking fowawd to the netht chaptew!
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 30. April 2022, 21:15:53 PM
I haven't forgotten about this story. It's just taken me a while to finish the next chapter. I needed to give myself a break from this one and get a few other stories out of my head.

Enjoy reading this chapter. Comments are always welcome and encouraged, even if it is just to say that you read it.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 30. April 2022, 21:16:44 PM
Chapter 26

As I rolled between the tables, I kept looking around because I felt people looking at me, yet every time that I turned to face where I felt the stares coming from, no one was looking in my direction. I saw plenty of patients, most of them busy talking with family and friends, and some medical staff, judging by their outfits. That didn't change the feeling of being stared at. When I angled my chair so that I could see HotWheels and Sheila, they were both watching me and trying not to laugh too much.

I was feeling a bit hungry and I saw a place that offered teriyaki beef noodle soup, so I rolled over to the counter and tried to order a combo-meal. The girl at the counter was very patient with me as I attempted to get my tongue around the impediments in my mouth, and finally handed me a piece of paper and a pen so that I could write it down. What really stung was that she had retainer wires running over both jaws and I could see the colour of the acrylic on her upper palate as she did her best to take my order. I got a closer look at both retainers when she came round the counter and set the tray on my lap.

She managed to maintain her composure when I said, "Shank you," before I turned to navigate my way back to the table. On the way back, I passed the young woman with the prosthetic arms. She stepped aside and gave me a nice smile while she waited for me to pass. I tried to maintain eye contact with her, but failed when I felt her looking at my face-bow. Her uniform had short sleeves and the skin-coloured material of her prosthetics was on display. I heard a faint whir as the fingers on one hand flexed. She wasn’t trying to hide them.

When I got back to the table, they both had food in front of them. There was no way that they could have made it to one of the main-floor restaurants while I was facing away from them. After I transferred my tray to the table, HotWheels slid a small plexiglass sign in front of me and turned it so that I could read it. I had been so focused on looking at everyone around me that I had failed to notice it. The sign explained that food could be ordered using a cell phone app, and that it could be delivered to the table.

HotWheels took a little pity on me and said, “It’s been so much fun watching how you’ve been reacting to the face-bow. It will be much easier if you remove it and the retainers before trying to eat that. Always remove the retainers when you eat, they could bend out of shape if you try to chew with them in your mouth. The face-bow is a much heavier wire and you can wear it if you want, though it can be challenging. I found that out when I had to wear one after my accident.”

After taking a look around, I tried to unhook the strap attached to my face-bow as discreetly as possible, then folded it neatly and laid it on the table. There was no way to discreetly remove my face-bow. If anyone other than HotWheels and Sheila had been watching, they would have seen me stick my fingers into my mouth and press on the release clips before pulling it from my mouth. Of course, that exposed the Herbst and the retainer wires. Removing the retainers proved to be a problem. Sheila had explained how to take them out and put them in, but I hadn't actually done it yet. I had difficulty getting my fingers in position around the Herbst so that the retainers would come loose. It involved opening my mouth wide enough to get the pistons away from the retainer wires before I could get enough leverage to pop them loose.

Neither of them offered any advice on how to remove them, and it wasn't until I was done and they were laying on a napkin that Sheila pulled a couple of plastic cases from her bag. Having the cases wasn't much better because it was still obvious that I had retainers, but at least they weren't visible anymore.

They had waited to start eating until I was done removing my orthodontic devices and didn't begin until I took my first bite of soup. I found out right away that soup with noodles was going to be a problem. The first spoonful went between my lips fine, then bumped against one of the Herbst pistons. Fortunately it was mostly noodles and beef and very little liquid. I managed to keep most of it in my mouth by hastily closing my lips. Sheila handed me a napkin, which she had ready.

I was more careful with the second spoonful, managing to get it in between the pistons of the Herbst without splashing the liquid on my chin. The problem was that the noodles were wide and they were wrapping around the pistons. The more that I ate, the more the noodles wrapped around the pistons. I tried to slip my tongue between my teeth, but I could only reach a small portion of the pistons and the noodles tended to slide closer to the ends. Some broke off and I was able to chew them.

Eventually I had to accept that there was no alternative but to stick my finger into my mouth and dislodge the noodles. It wasn't very dignified, but it got the job done. By the time I was finished eating, I had done it several times. Even after I had used my drink to try to get the last of the small bits of food off of my teeth, I could tell that my mouth needed to be brushed.

Sheila was way ahead of me. She pulled several toothbrushes from her bag and offered them to me, telling me to choose a colour. Any colour would have been fine, but I chose pink. Having brushed once in the office, I realized it would be easier to do it standing up, so I rolled back from the table and moved my feet to the floor, then grasped the edge of the table and used it to pull myself upright. When the knee locks clicked into place, I shuffled around until I could roll the chair underneath the table and take the crutches.

I was ready to crutch to the bathroom when Sheila said, "Take your retainers with you and brush them as well. Never leave them in the cases if they haven't been cleaned properly, and rinse out the cases as well if the retainers have been in them before being cleaned. All the face-bow needs is a quick rinse, though brushing the clips on the ends won't hurt."

The cases went into my purse, which I removed from my backpack, and I crutched my way to the bathroom. Without the face-bow protruding from between my lips, the feeling of being watched pretty much disappeared and I enjoyed the feeling of my legs swinging between my crutches.

The door to the bathroom swung open at the press of a button. To one side of the room were stalls, with all the doors open, and the sinks were opposite them, in counters at levels convenient for patients with varying degrees of mobility. I chose a counter I could prop myself against, set my purse on it and lay my retainer cases beside it, then rested my crutches against the counter. Then I started to brush my teeth.

The height of the counter was slightly different than the one in the orthodontist's office and I found that the rocking motion of my hips against the counter was having a much more pleasurable effect on me. I changed the speed that I was brushing my teeth, trying to find just the right rhythm. As I finally found it, the door opened and HotWheels rolled through it, interrupting the very pleasant act of brushing my teeth.

I groaned in frustration and considered using one of the stalls to find some relief, but decided against it. It wouldn't help reduce the level of excitement I was feeling, and I wanted to be able to take my time and enjoy exploring all my new toys at the same time as I released my pent-up desires. Maybe a better way of describing it would be to say that I needed to get laid, and soon.

I had to smile at the thought of what a night with Chuckee would be like as we explored my toys together. HotWheels gave me a puzzled look as I rinsed the toothpaste from my mouth, reinstalled the retainers and clipped the face-bow into the tubes on my molar bands, then crutched out of the washroom, all with a big smile on my face. This time, as I crutched between the tables, I was looking to see who was watching me and smiled at them, putting all my new toys on display. Once again, I was glad that I had the legbraces to support me because my legs were still wobbly at the thought of the surprise that Chuckee would be getting when he arrived at my place. All I would have to do is ask my boyfriend if Chuckee had any plans for later.

I took the long way back to our table, still feeling as if everyone was looking at me, and still self-conscious about the attention I felt I was drawing, but enjoying the experience all the same. HotWheels was already back at the table and both of them were laughing at me as I pulled out my chair and lowered myself into it, before storing the crutches behind the seat and rolling up to the table again.

I just grinned at them and said, “What? I’m not supposed to enjoy my toys? The two of you are the people who gave them to me, besides, my legs are so shaky that the legbraces are the only thing keeping me on my feet right now.” I didn’t realize it, but my lisp almost went away when I wasn’t concentrating on talking.

That just made them both laugh even harder. When they calmed down enough to talk again, HotWheels said, “I told her what I caught you doing in the bathroom. If I had waited a few minutes more, I probably would have caught you with your hand between your legs. I can’t wait to read the chapter where you describe what you did today. It will probably be even better when I hear it with the lisp as you read it.”

Sheila said, "When you give me a name in the story, can I be DocSilver? You give everybody in your stories such cool pseudonyms."

I smiled at the name and agreed. Just then, her phone beeped with a text message and she excused herself to attend to a non-emergency matter. I had already spent more time at the hospital than I had expected too and wanted to get home so that I could get ready for my evening with Chuckee.

As we rolled towards the glass elevator, HotWheels stopped to talk to the woman with the prosthetic arms and introduced me to her, then explained that she was one of the physical therapists working at the hospital. The one-armed guy wiping tables wandered over and said ‘Hi’ to us as well, and I found out that they worked at the food court so that they could keep an eye on the patients that they were teaching how to adapt to their changed bodies. It turned out that the patients responded much better to the therapy when they saw that the people who were treating them were willing to act on what they were telling the patients to do.

HotWheels didn’t tell them who I was other than a friend of hers, though she did mention that there would probably be some new additions to the audio stories soon. They both said how much they were enjoying listening to them and thanked HotWheels for finding the audio copies. It seemed that I was developing a bit of a fanbase outside of the chatroom.

After loading our chairs into the van, I made sure that Chuckee was available for the evening. I was already deep into planning what I was going to do by the time she dropped me off.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: foobar on 26. June 2022, 01:21:17 AM
I absolutely love this story. Usually I enjoy the fast-paced stories more, but this one offers such a unique different perspective. I really like the in-depth descriptions from all the different senses. I can only imagine how hard it must be to write those.
Title: Re: Reading a story
Post by: Braceface2015 on 26. June 2022, 03:23:03 AM
Believe it or not, the hardest part for me is to not get lost in the details. I want the reader to have a general picture in their mind of what is happening and fill in the fine details. There are many shades of red, and each reader will come up with their favorite shade for my character.

I also have a difficult time keeping my stories tame enough to post here. Sometimes i just have to write a chapter or two that gets added to TheArchive or DeviantArt.

I'm always glad when someone sends me a comment letting me know that they read my stories and they enjoyed it or thought that I might like to know what kind of stories they do like. I write stories for myself and hope that someone else will like them too.

Polite comments are always welcome and encouraged.