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Author Topic: Story - Full Bloom  (Read 3591 times)

Offline Tin_Grin8444

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Story - Full Bloom
« on: 19. August 2022, 08:36:45 AM »
Chapter 1

I'm startled awake by a sharp ring from the intercom next to the mattress. I take a second to steady myself, making sure I'm safe before regaining my senses for where I am, pressing the receiver on my end. It's Mr. Dan. We're approaching my destination about an hour earlier than expected, what with the good weather this place is known for. I tell him I'll be right up. I start by folding up my blanket and taking my shirt from around the pillow, folding them both back into my bag. I try to leave the room neater than I found it, Mr. Dan's been wonderful.

I stop by the bathroom on my way to the deck to wash my hands before putting my favorite blueberry hand lotion on. My hands have to be clean before I put it on, or it doesn't smell right. It has to smell right. I only use a dot from the large bottle, spreading it liberally around my hands and wrists til smooth. Closing my eyes, and bring my hands to gently cover my face, and take a slow, deep breath in. Much better. Opening my eyes I catch my reflection. The bags are still under my eyes. I still look like sh$t. I should be able to get more sleep once I'm there. Dad was nice enough to reserve a cute place on the edge of town away from the roads so it wouldn't be as noisy. The thought of anyone having cars on an island is funny enough, but I guess you gotta move big stuff sometimes. Mom's handwritten note details the directions for when we dock and where I'm supposed to pick up the rest of my luggage they're sending. The bottom has both their signatures and a few little stickers. A cupcake, a cartoon cat, a flower. I'm reminded of the habit I got into in high school turning in written assignments with stickers in the corners of certain pages. Nobody ever complained, but teachers did talk. I take one more deep breath with my hands close to my face before exiting the bathroom and starting up the stairs towards the deck.

Reaching the top I'm instantly met with a wet breeze flinging my hair in all directions. I rescue my hair with a pink scrunchy around my wrist and turn to meet Mr. Dan at the wheel. Well, really he's in his chair with the edge of his knee holding the wheel. He finishes a sip from a strange mug gifted from his second daughter and greets me with a warm smile.

"You look much better! Sleep good?"

I wish I did. I wish I could tell him I did.

"Yea I did. Thank you, really."

"No sweat! Whatever I can do! Listen, whenever your folks stop by, be sure to tell I said hello."

"I definitly will. You said we're getting there early?"

"Yep. Saved ya about an hour. I know they've got you on some kind of a schedule, so I figured it's the least I can do. Speaking of which, you can see it from here! Take a look."

Sure enough, I can make out the outlines of multicolored buildings with faded blue hills behind them. New home sweet home. I wish I could head straight for the house set aside for me and try to sleep, but the directions Mom and Dad sent were very specific, and I've followed everything to the letter so far. As soon as I set foot on the island, I have to go to an orthodontist.

Offline kelly-Marie

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #1 on: 19. August 2022, 15:27:54 PM »
Ooh this looks promising  am excited to read more

Offline bsma189

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #2 on: 19. August 2022, 23:09:44 PM »
Intriguing start!

Offline Tin_Grin8444

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #3 on: 21. August 2022, 09:22:08 AM »
Chapter 2

I leave Mr. Dan and his peculiar boat with a friendly goodbye, making a mental note to find a thank-you-gift of some kind for the next time he finds himself here, whenever that will be. With nothing but a hastily packed bookbag and the clothes on my back, I pull Mom and Dad's note from the back pocket of my shorts to find the address to the orthodontist. Assuming it's a clinic, I type the address into my phone's search engine, only to be confused when a poor signal shows me no clinics, not just in town, but not anywhere on the island. Sh$t, am I on the right island? The address only shows a house to the east side of town, and that's when my phone can manage a good enough signal to properly load the search result. I decide to walk to a small baby blue bakery next to a fountain. I'm a little hesitant to open the door, since touching looks to be enough to break the handle right off. Don't get me wrong, the door is beautiful and well painted with care, but it's clearly seen better days, and I don't want to be that girl that breaks a freaking door the second she sets foot on the island.

I muster the courage to grasp the doorknob, and gently twist it open to be greeted by an older woman with a smile so warm it could stall winter. She invites me in with a thick eastern accent native to the region and asks what she can get me. I decline her offer for bread, informing her I have to go to a specific address. Showing her my phone, she turns her head to an angle with a confused look for only a moment before a light flicks on behind her eyes. She exclaims that the orthodontist operates out of her home, and that address is to her house. She knows her, a resident on the island for the past 10 or so years, to be an oddly eccentric woman whose quirks are rivaled only by her supernatural ability to problem-solve. Odd thing to say to a girl who just walked into your bakery, but I'll take her word for it.

With concrete directions in hand, I exit the bakery, concluding my one and only detour from my parent's very specific instructions. The next entry on the list after arriving at the orthodontist is just "Do everything she says!" followed by "Check over everything in your new house after she's finished with you." You'd think making sure my living situation was in good shape would take priority here, but nothing about my situation is normal, so I should be expecting a little weird. So far so good.

I follow the path provided by the lovely baker woman, clearly a scenic route intended to show the cute town and all its colorful beauty. And picket fences. So. Many. Picket. Fences. Finally passing a soft green building I find to be a bike repair shop; I turn the corner to see the lovely home with what looks to be a tumorous garage inorganically mashed onto the original home in various spots where one half of the building's edge is clearly older. As I draw closer, I can make out a soft humming flowing from Frankenstein's garage. I decide it only polite to try the front door first, giving her a chance to pause whatever she must be doing. I press the doorbell, and a warm hum resonates throughout the house followed by a gleeful "Coming!"

The door flies open revealing a tall woman with frizzled black hair down to the middle of her back, a few streaks of gray among the large mass. The hand not holding the door is propped above the other side of the doorway, her posture like that of a musical theatre star drawing back the stage's curtain to reveal herself ahead of que. An eager smile swims across her face giving way to heartfelt "Hello!"

I can only wave meekly
"Hello. I'm Casey."

"Aren't you ever! A little early? I love that! Come on in!"

I'm ushered past a front hallway littered with umbrellas of different shapes and colors next to two stacks of books collecting an impressive armor made of dust. Once past the kitchen I can begin to get an idea of why she added the garage onto the house. The regular house is so small! That, and she's very tall. Not a good combo. She's able to stand with her back completely straight once in the living room. I'm dragged across a large, ornate brown, red and yellow carpet to a stand by a large cabinet next to a desk. The edges of the room are populated with comfy looking chairs, loveseats and stools. The far side of the room has a half-dome window stretching from knee height to the ceiling, with a section of the wall protruding into the space to form a well-proportioned bench to sit at the base of the large window. Pictures of what I assume are patients and family hang scattered across the walls among odd trophies such as a swordfish, a large catfish with large spines along its, well, spine, and next to them, a mangled backbrace? She excitedly seats me at the other side of the wooden desk before cheerfully sprinting off towards the garage to gather her supplies. She has a lot of energy. Looking at the desk, it has a cute floral design along the edge. It looks handmade. Did she make this? and the chairs too?

She returns with a clipboard and pen and seats herself across from me, still wearing that friendly smirk.

"So, welcome Casey! I'm Dr. Richardson. I'm sure you know I'm an orthodontist, but do you know what kind of orthodontics I specialize in?"

"Um... no?"

"That's okay! I specialize in therapeutic orthodontics. What that means is that, in addition to regular old braces cemented to your teeth, I use a variety of unique appliances and methods both inside and outside the mouth, to ease and aid in cases of extreme emotional stress. I do this while prioritizing not just the condition of your teeth, but also your emotional health."

"So, I won't just be getting braces."

"Correct, braces are guaranteed, along with a few other things for today."

Can't say I'm too surprised. She seems like a candidate for the nicest human on Earth, but definitely a little weird. Figures I can't get away with just braces.

"A relative of a patient of mine had recommended my practice to your parents last week. I received all your relevant information with instructions to begin your treatment upon your arrival. Your parents didn't divulge too many detail-"

"I had a stress attack and I haven't been sleeping."

Her expression softens.
"I see. I am truly sorry that's happening. Regarding your treatment, your parents have issued the full payment to me in its entirety. I received their signatures as well as yours already, and everything's been processed and set. I just have a few little questions before we begin installation."

"Okay."

"Favorite color?"

"Pink."

"Next, I understand your parents also arranged work for you on the island. Do you happen to have a bike?"

"I... don't think so?"

"That's okay! I'll help you get one once we've finished for today. First things first, we're going to have you change."

She stands to open the top drawer of the filing cabinet next to us, taking what looks to be a small bulky mass of folded denim. She hands this to me and directs me to a changing room past the kitchen, telling me I have to put everything on, and place my remaining clothes into one of the bags in the changing room that I'll be taking home with me. She then leaves the living room herself to retrieve equipment from her garage.

I stand from my chair and walk towards the kitchen, noticing the clothes she handed me have something in them. Once in the changing room, I can spot instructions that my bottoms and underwear go in one of the colored bags provided, and that my shirt can stay on. In front of the room's mirror, I unfold the mass to discover it's a pair of blue denim overalls shorts. A folded pink object wrapped in the overalls falls to the floor. I quickly pick it up, realizing it's a diaper.

What?

Is this a part of the treatment? Did she hand me the wrong bundle? The short overalls look sturdy and comfortable, and like they'd fit me just fine, but a diaper? Really? I'm 24! I realize I've been in the changing room for a little while when Dr. Richardson calls from the kitchen, asking if everything's okay. I respond, asking if I'm supposed to put on the diaper too. She says yes.

Just what did I sign up for?

After a few moments of thought, and awkwardly standing facing the mirror holding a pink diaper, I decide I've come this far. I'll be having some choice words for Mom and Dad once I get the chance to call them.

I reluctantly disrobe and put on the clothing presented to me. The diaper feels, weird. Bulky and kind of in the way. The overalls don't help this sensation at all, merely pressing it against me even more. I look over myself in the mirror. At least it sort of puffs my bottom out making it look bigger. I guess I do look pretty nice in overalls. Finding a guy to date isn't exactly a priority while I'm here, but I'm curious what your average man would think of this. With my luck, everyone on this island is probably so weird this wouldn't be unheard of. I place my shorts and underwear into the gray bag provided and zip it closed. I emerge from the changing room to find Dr. Richardson eating a sandwich she'd made in the time I took getting changed.

With her mouth half full, quickly brushing bread crumbs from her hands,
"Oh! You look lovely! Very cute."

"So... the diaper."

"Oh! Yes! That is a required part of the treatment. I understand it may be a little awkward for a woman your age to have to wear one, but let me put some of your worries to rest. Firstly, you only have to wear it. You don't have to use it, understand?"

"If I don't need to use it, then why do I have to wear it?"

"A few of the treatment techniques I use for stabilizing your jaws and easing emotional stressors have side effects. Some of the light medication you'll be taking while here can potentially weaken the strength of your bladder. Fun fact! Your diapers are actually chemically treated to neutralize the ammonia compounds in waste on contact, and they're also maximum absorbency, so no need to worry about smell or leaks! I only provide the best for my patients! Now, most patients simply tuff it out and never actually use them, but you are required to wear them. I promise, this isn't a punishment."

I gesture around the puffy bulge the overalls do little to mask
"This just... feels awkward is all."

"I understand. Trust me when I say that you get accustomed to this and the rest of your treatment very quickly. Are you ready for the installations?"

Looking at her, she's being really patient with me. Mom and Dad already paid her, and I already signed on for the treatment. I guess I'm in this for the long haul.
"Yea. Let's do it."

With a sympathetic smile, Dr. Richardson steps into the living room to wheel over a large dentist's chair, connecting it to a dock in the center of the living room. The chair is an off-white almost cream color with a number of teal Velcro straps bearing a logo with a yellow flower across the seat, back and legs. I hesitantly walk closer, very conscious of the odd sensation of the diaper between my legs. I'm invited to sit onto the chair, where Dr. Richardson starts by explaining the straps as she wheels over a small table with a cloth draped over it.

"So, these are mainly for patients with involuntary muscle movement issues, but after my first 6 patients told me they preferred having the straps on, I decided to do it with all of my patients. I know this is lot to experience all in one go, so I'll give you the option of straps."

She's gotta be joking, right? Right? People actually preferred this? Sh$t. I've come this far. Why not?
"Sure. Let's do the straps."

"You got it! If you want me to take them off at any point, just let me know. Once we start the installation, I won't be pausing. We'll be installing everything in one go."

She says that like I'll be taking part in putting the braces on myself. I hop onto the chair and swing my legs into position. She starts by having me raise my arms to allow her to pull a wide strap over my stomach stretching up to my chest from my left side, then pulling over a slightly longer strap just as wide from my right side, the Velcro connects, and I notice a number of flat loops along running horizontal along the center of the top strap. She then gently brings my left arm down to a small cuff that Velcros around my upper arm. She repeats the same for the right side, the cuffs level with the large strap across my chest. She then reaches behind the chair to bring a long strap over my right shoulder that threads through the flat loop on the strap across my chest, before gently pull it back up and folding it to attach the Velcro on itself. She repeats this for the lefts side. As the second shoulder strap is gently pulled up, the large horizontal strap is softly pulled upwards with it, sitting snug against my chest. With the upper half done she steps to the middle of the chair.

"Next up are the hands!"

She starts by softly taking my left hand and placing it through a thin loop of material, then pulls a strap through a small black folding buckle to tighten it snug to my wrist, securing it next to my outer thigh. As she walks to the right side of the chair, I realize my right hand has instinctively come to the center of my chest. She pauses with a sympathetic look.

"Are you okay? We can just do one hand if you'd like."

After a moment, I nod, letting her know to keep going. She reaches for the right side's wrist buckle and presses a gray clip on the underside of a larger black section closer to the side of the chair, allowing the strap to extend. She brings to cuff up to my hand, still touching the tarp-like teal material holding my chest, and gently threads my hand through the cuff, tightens it, then grabs a black strap connecting to the lower buckle, slowly pulling the strap, with my hand in it, down to the side of my thigh.

She then grabs a long, padded strap from the right side with a buckle on the end, gently drapes it across my thighs, and walks over to the other side to buckle it to its port before pulling the buckle's strap snug, pressing gently into my tights. The material almost reaches the ends of my overalls shorts, showing a line of skin between the two. Finally, she goes to the foot of the chair, and wraps both of my ankles in their respected straps, similar to the ones Velcro'd around my upper arms.

Finished at last, she proudly places her hands onto her hips and grins endearingly.
"See? Not so bad! Try wiggling around. I'll get the rest of the equipment."

After she leaves, I attempt to wiggle and squirm, but it's no use. It's... comfortable? The straps aren't too tight, and nothing feels loose enough that I'm worried I might fall out. It feels snug. It feels a little silly to be wriggling around like this. I actually feel safe strapped up like this. Secure.

Dr. Richardson returns with two other wheeled tables of equipment, bringing them over to a spot behind the chair. She presses a button, and the back of the chair begins to recline. I notice the straps around my wrists and the buckles they connect to are shifting along a track attached to the seat that allows them to move naturally with the chair. That's kind of a neat feature. Once I'm truly at the mercy of Dr. Richardson in that quintessential dental position, she hums to herself as she readies her tools.

"You know, there is a separate restraint system for your head and face! I don't generally use it with my patients, since it's rather... excessive..."

As if this isn't excessive...

"But for your next appointment I can certainly bring it out for you if you want! Completely up to you!"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Sounds good! Now, let's get started!"


Offline Tin_Grin8444

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #4 on: 21. August 2022, 10:00:12 AM »
Chapter 3

Dr. Richardson begins by having me drink multiple cups of odd tasting liquid, each tasting strange, but not bad. The last cup is noticeably larger, and tastes majority of water with a subtle sweetness. After that, she starts by pulling my cheeks around a large device that holds my lips and cheeks away from my teeth, even pressing my tongue into the back of my mouth. She then thoroughly cleans and polishes each and every tooth. Once she's through, she starts by taking numerous small flat metal rings, coating the inside with a strange smelling paste, and bringing them into my mouth before instructing me to bite down each time. I can feel these metal rings are going around each of my teeth, different shapes intended for different teeth. On occasion, she'll try to press a metal ring onto a tooth, only for it to not fit, prompting her to grab a different sized one of the same shape from a container. Just how many of these things does she have in her house?

After a few of the rings are in place, she brings a strange mass of metal above my mouth. I can make out a small hoop of metal, about the length of my pallet, and on either end of it there are these metal corners with springs leading to their edges, on the ends of the springs I can make out 4 of those thin metal rings, two on each side. the rings all have these little tubes on the outside of them, and the corners of the metal pieces, where the springs meet, and either end of the small hoop begins, another little tube on either side. 6 little tubes in total.

She coats the inside of all 4 thin metal rings in more of the paste and tells me to try to open wider. I do so obediently, not wanting to disappoint her. She manages the mass of metal into my mouth, and places multiple rods into my mouth after, once again instructing me to bite down. I do as she says, and I can feel all 4 of the rings slinking onto my teeth at once. It's an odd sensation.

With that done, she then brings out another "appliance" as she calls them. This one looks like a kind of rake. A mess of long curved bits of metal, on the outside of it are these small, rounded metal pieces, about 8 in total, all connected by tiny rods to the rake. The ends of the rake are more metal rings that she uses to put the device into my mouth before fiddling with it with what look like plyers. She starts pressing onto the rake appliance after it's in my mouth, producing a strange sensation in my top pallet. She sticks her finger behind the rake and pulls towards the front of my mouth and upwards. It feels... good?

She looks around once more and smiles. She then gets up to grab something else. I can hear the filing cabinet opening again. She grabs a few things from it and returns. She picks up two metal hoops she calls "facebows" and places them into my mouth, I feel her connect one to each jaw. I start to get a little nervous. This is a bit much.

She then brings a thicker, larger facebow above my mouth. What even is that? She brings it into my mouth held open, and I can just barely feel her attaching it to what feels like something between my open jaws in the back of my mouth. She smiles once again and gently lifts my head, placing straps beneath where I lay on the chair. She presses my head back down and begins fastening the straps to the ends of the facebows. As she does so, I can feel a gentle pressure creep through the backs of my jaws. She doesn't bother taking anything out, only once again picking up the plyers and reaching in to fiddle with the facebows while they're in my mouth. I feel some odd tugging sensations on each facebow, including the large one in between the smaller ones. It seems to jet out further than the other 2. She places the plyers on the table, uses a strange blue light wand to dry the resin on every one of my teeth, and begins to wheel over a large light with a strange pattern on the glass facing down at me.

"Alright Casey! We're in the home stretch now! Doing okay?"

I can't exactly answer with the cheek gadget still in my mouth, but other than my mouth feeling dry, I guess I'm okay. I nod to her.

"Okay! This next part I'm just going to have you look at the very center of this little pattern on the light here, and just relax. Take some deep breaths."

I do as she says and focus my eyes at the center black dot. The light begins flashing at random times. I keep my focus on the center dot. The shapes around the light towards the edge appear to move as the light continues flashing unpredictably. Dr. Richardson might be saying something? I can't tell. I keep focusing on the dot. Wait, there are glasses on me now? When did I put on glasses? I try to keep focus on the dot, it blurs for a few moments, but soon becomes clear again. The light keeps flashing, but it's getting harder to keep my eyes open. I'm trying to keep focusing on the dot for Dr. Richardson. I don't wanna disappoint her. My eyes are starting to close by themselves. I feel a hand gently brushing my forehead. Everything's fading to black.

Offline silver-moon-2000

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #5 on: 21. August 2022, 13:51:02 PM »
While the diaper and hypnosis (?) take us to the more uncommen and "uncharted" territories, I'm definitely looking forward to next next installment of your story (corny pun very much intended)

Offline kelly-Marie

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #6 on: 21. August 2022, 19:19:34 PM »
This is great I'm loving where this is going I almost wish I was Casey  please keep up the good work x

Offline panda777

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #7 on: 21. August 2022, 22:48:09 PM »
I'm excited to see where this goes! I love the detailed restraints, and I'm very curious about where the hypnosis is going!

Offline bracessd

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #8 on: 24. August 2022, 17:47:13 PM »
Wow, great story so far!

Offline Braceface2015

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #9 on: 25. August 2022, 00:04:49 AM »
I like how each writer has their own way of writing.

It will be interesting to see where you take us with this story.

Offline Milva

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #10 on: 29. August 2022, 11:20:53 AM »
Great story!!!
I do hope to read more!!!
Thanks for posting

Offline Tin_Grin8444

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #11 on: 03. September 2022, 09:24:21 AM »
Chapter 4

I can hear running water and soft humming. My mouth feels full, tight and constricted. I try to move my hands up to touch whatever's holding my lips apart, but something's holding them. After a bit of futile wiggling, I start to come to enough to remember where I am, realizing I'm still strapped to the chair. Dr. Richardson must've heard my ambient grunts and moans from the kitchen, since she quickly skips over to check on me.

"Ah! Haha! Finally awake!"

She pokes and prods around my mouth as my vision starts to come back. I can make out her standing above me tugging on the 3 facebows still sticking out of my mouth. I can see I'm also still wearing the glasses she put onto me. She glances down toward my diaper before looking back to me.

"Still dry?"

I nod to her.

"Wonderful! See? No problem."

She then brings a large hanging mirror above my face to begin explaining what all she's done to me.

I'm stunned at the complete nerd staring back at me. I went from a regular looking 24-year-old to a complete Braceface with glasses in a matter of a few hours. The thick framed glasses sit with their arms stretching under the headgear straps and above my ears. My lips are held apart by the top and bottom facebows, keeping them from covering my teeth, now bound in flashy metal. Dr. Richardson starts by having me open wider to showcase the severity of what she's installed. Each and every tooth is now wrapped in those shiny metal bands, a lot of them with gadgets, hooks and clasps attached to them. The rake-like appliance with its litany of small metal balls pressing into my palette are already coated in my own drool. As I open and close my jaw, I can make out the metal rods that the facebows are attached to flexing along the springs connecting them, producing embarrassingly audible squeaks and clicks. The tubes where the facebows have been inserted have these strange little clasps that have been closed and locked shut, ensuring I won't be able to remove any of my facebows, meaning I won't be able to take my headgear out at all. She explains that the tongue crib she's installed has a number of pressure contact points that will engage the sensitive spots along my palette whenever I swallow, making my tongue the mechanism that activates them. She instructs me to swallow a few times, each time my tongue pressing into the tongue crib, forcing the small metal balls to press against my palette in multiple spots, creating a tickling sensation in my mouth. A soft warmth spreads throughout my mouth, to the back of my neck and down my spine. It's... nice? She also informs me the glasses are a regular part of the treatment, and that she'll be giving me stronger prescriptions as time goes on.  The appliances, however, will remain locked into my mouth for the entirety of my treatment. This will also be true for future appliances she'll introduce on a need basis.

"How long will I haff thheesh for?" I try to say, lisping horribly, and ever conscious of the squeaks and clicks my appliances make.

"Well, that sort of depends on you. Most of my patients make the trip here about twice a year for checkups and adjustments, but since you're going to be living here on the island, I'll have ample opportunity to fine tune your treatment and ensure we're getting the desired effects on a near constant basis. You'll have regular appointments every month, and once your formal treatment has been completed, you'll be able to keep your braces and appliances on for as long as you want! Since I specialize in long term treatments, I'm perfectly prepared to maintain your oral hardware indefinitely!"

Figures I wouldn't be able to get a straight answer from her.

She leaves me still strapped into the chair as she wonders off into her garage to assemble a goody bag for caring for my braces. While she's away, I wriggle and writhe against the straps, deciding I like the sensation. I stare back at the mirror, still not use to the sudden and drastic change in my appearance. Lifting my head and glancing down to the rest of me, I can see the embarrassing bulge produced by the hot pink diaper is painfully obvious. I guess it is pretty soft and comfortable, but I have to hope that anyone who sees me will be too distracted by my braces to notice it.

Dr. Richardson returns with a medium sized duffle bag containing brushes, oral gels, a variety of overalls, both short and long for the colder months, along with numerous diapers to "keep me stocked". Embarrassing. She takes her time packing a few extra bits, such as shirts and a sweater with her orthodontic logo on them, and an umbrella. All this, and I'm still strapped in the chair.

FINALLY, she walks over and unstraps me. As my feet hit the floor, she catches me a little dizzy from that flashing light business, offering for me to stick around as long as I need to before leaving. I decide to sit at the bench next to her large half-dome window, watching the flowers and trees along the sidewalks sway in the afternoon breeze. As I sit, I feel the stark odd sensation of sitting with a diaper on, just in case there was any chance I could forget I was wearing it. This will take some getting used to.

After taking the time to regain myself, I take my bag, a few pamphlets of cleaning my braces, along with an embarrassing pamphlet on coping with wearing adult diapers, I'm set loose upon her front porch to begin walking towards my new house. Dr. Richardson promises to arrange for a bike to be delivered to my front door for me, so I start with Mom and Dad's directions.

Now having to walk back through the town to get the other side of it, it's just my luck that there are now way more people walking around than before. The local school seems to have just let out, as cadres of boys and girls walk about the paths around the buildings and fountains with their eyes glued to my oral hardware. A lot of them point, some giggle, some even take pictures. The worst part has to be trying to walk normally, knowing what I'm wearing, resisting the urge to pull at the ends of my overalls. The diaper just feels so bulky and awkward, and I'm afraid that trying to walk so normally might just clue people into the fact I'm wearing a diaper. I make a mental note to not walk around town at this time of day again. Passing by the bakery once again, I can spot through the window the older woman with her eyes practically falling out of their sockets as she sees me. Great.

Now on the other side of town, doing everything short of ducking through alleyways to avoid people, I make it into a pristine looking neighborhood with a litany of white picket fences lining the front yards of cute pastel-colored houses. Upon closer inspection, they each have names upon colorful signs on each of the fences, such as "Sea Breeze", "Thin Mint" and "Cold Coffee", clearly the names of each house. Some of the signs even have little designs relating to the house's name. Reaching the end of the neighborhood, I reach a path through trees at the end of a road leading to a soft pastel pink house with light green shutters along the windows. In front of it, a white picket fence gate with a sign reading "Full Bloom". The sign mirrors the house's pink and green color scheme, with a floral pattern adorning the letters. After enduring the traumatic experience of becoming a complete metal mouth, seeing this as my new house is a pretty sweet deal. Approaching it, I can see a number of empty, dust covered plant pots of varying shapes, sizes and patterns strewn about the yard. A pile of flat stones in one corner, and between the fence and the front door, the scaffolding of a hanging garden meant to hold vines to create a tunnel of flowers leading to the entrance. Reaching the door, I lift a small snail statue to the left of the door mat to find the key left for me. I attach it to my keyring I brought from home, well, old home, and join it to the small bee figurine I've lovingly carried for years. Unlocking the door, and opening it, I'm met with pastel colored furniture, a few tables, some empty bookshelves, and a few other odd bits of furniture, each with thin layers of dust. I figure while I'm waiting for the bike and the rest of my things to be delivered, I might as well start by rearranging the furniture to my liking and making sure my utilities are all in perfect order. On the way to the kitchen, I pass by a mirror hanging on the wall, once again stunned by my reflection.

I suck back saliva.

Yea, this is going to take some getting used to.

Offline Tin_Grin8444

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #12 on: 03. September 2022, 22:43:09 PM »
Thank you all very much for the positive comments and kind words! I truly appreciate it! Cant wait to continue and add more to this one ;D

Offline Tin_Grin8444

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #13 on: 22. September 2022, 08:20:18 AM »
Chapter 5

After verifying the functionality of my utilities and electricity, I spend the rest of the afternoon pushing chairs and tables across hallways to different rooms in an attempt to figure out the ideal configuration. So far, it's the most fun I've had in a while. With the lack of a TV anywhere in the house, I feel a unique freedom to decide which room will be the quintessential "living room".

 I decide to unhook the straps to my headgear to put my hair into two braids with pink scrunchies to keep it out of my facebows while I'm bent over moving the furniture, feeling that creeping pressure return to my jaws as soon as I unhook the straps. While the straps were off, I realized the ones Dr. Richardson chose for me were a gaudy mix of hot pink and neon green. I'm a little amused that the straps' colors sort of match the scheme of the house, but I can't help but feel a little embarrassed knowing now that I was walking through town with such an obvious "Hey, look at me I have braces and headgear" sign around my head.

 After a while, the only noises are the gurgles of wooden chair legs being moved across tile, and the occasional slurp of sucking back my own saliva. I decide on the mint-colored chairs and love seat around the coffee table in the larger room near the front hallway. It's got ample lighting and has a nice enough view of the front yard and the far side of the fence where the litany of empty pots are strewn about. I make a note to keep an eye out for flowers I could put into them once I get settled in. In front of the coffee table, I make space for where a TV will go in front of a wall outlet, planning to find a decent shelf to prop it onto. I don't think the TV will be anything big. Something a decent enough size that won't be too much to lift if I ever want to move it to another room. Realizing I'm now exhausted from pushing chairs and tables around, I realize I finally get to sleep! I waddle over to the stairs and slowly trudge to the top. Once to the end of the hallway, I swing the pristine door open to find the bedsheets match the theme of the house with a pink and green gingham check pattern with tiny flowers stitched along the edge of the comforter. I decide to sift through the duffle bag Dr. Richardson left me to see if there's anything more comfortable than denim overalls that I can change into to sleep. While I'm at it, I decide to unload its contents into the nearby closet. Taking inventory of what was left to me, I decide to go with a pair of stretchy overalls that are a much softer material with smaller clasps. I turn to a wall mirror to see how they look, and I don't hate it. The ever-present reminder of the diaper, AKA The Bulge TM, is still as visible as ever, but still gives my figure a decent look. Aside from the orthodontic train wreck, I don't look too bad. It's a shame I never tried experimenting with my fashion choices until now. Noticing the bags around my eyes once again, I decide it's finally time to try sleeping again. With no obligations, no cell service to get calls, and no other items on the schedule to stay awake for, I grab my favorite lotion from my bag to apply another drop to my hands, step over to the dormer on the right side of the room facing the front of the house to switch on the window's Air Conditioning unit to the coldest setting, switch off the lights, and crawl into bed.

The first thing I notice are my hips slightly elevated because of how thick the diaper is. I usually sleep on my stomach, but with 3 facebows now locked into my mouth, I don't think that's going to be possible anymore. I take off my glasses and place them onto the nightstand that sits just slightly above the top of the mattress, and I'm a little stunned at how blurry my vision is. She really did a number on me in one afternoon. I run my hands against my braids to bring them between my arms and my chest and pull the covers up to my neck. I'm grateful the AC is able to make it cold enough in here to sleep. I can't sleep if it's too hot. Finally, after what feels like 18 days, I can finally try to sleep.








An ethereal chime echoes throughout the house waking me. I jolt my head up to look around, realizing I'll need my glasses the see. I swing my arm to the nightstand and put them on to notice a soft blue light bleeding through the blinds of the window. Is it morning? The doorbell rings again. Oh God. I franticly untangle myself from the covers, finding difficulty with the material of my overalls forming a static charged hold to the sheets as I fight to free myself. I stumble to catch myself on one foot as I hop towards the stairs. Waddling down the stairs, I can make out a silhouette through the door's glass. Is it Dr. Richardson? I make it to the door and open it to be greeted by a surprised woman about my age. Her wide eyes shine a rich dark green brought out by the trees past the picket fence behind her. Her face is framed by chest length wavy black hair that almost hides endearingly large ears. She almost towers over me, her lips sat above a soft chin at my eye level. The edges of her eyes and lips begin to curl into a nervous smile as she realizes she's staring at my braces.

"H-hi I'm Cayshee.." I manage

She lightly shakes her head to bring herself to respond with an earnest smile "I'm Violet!"

After a terrifying stretch of time of her struggling to tear her eyes away from my braces and myself struggling to look her in the eyes at all, she manages to remember her reason for coming.

"Dr. Richardson said you were going to be our new delivery girl, so my dad wanted me to bring your bike to you here, and you also got some stuff from the mail boat!" She gestures to a few boxes bearing Mom and Dad's handwriting next to a soft baby blue three wheeled bike with a sizable basket atop the back 2 wheels.

"Oh. Uh- shank yew..."

"Dad says you'll need to come to this address for 1:00 today. You'll use the bike so you can make your first delivery. I'll see you there!"

She turns to leave, stopping after a few steps and turn around once more. "I like your braces!"

I can feel my face turn a stark red as a my facebows help to facilitate an involuntary smile. "Shthankshh!"
I forced to suck back saliva to prevent from drooling. After she's out of view along the path, I start moving the boxes and bike into the house. I find the note containing my parents' instructions for Day 2 and read that they've arranged for me to work for a flower company delivering their stock into town to be shipped out on the boats. The pay is more than enough to keep a fridge stocked, and since the house is paid for, I can set aside cash for things like decorations or a TV. Ya know, to not watch TV on since there's no cable on the island. Maybe I can at least hook up a DVD player and find some movies. I start to unpack the boxes of my things Mom and Dad packed lovingly, finding everything from shoes to cute sundresses, to a slow cooker, to an old cubic video game console, but no underwear. Not a single pair. Dammit, there goes that hope. I look over the map to the flower company and realize their store is located along a massive stretch of road that winds around the island past hills and a mountain. They want me to bike to and from THAT? I decide first things first, I need the bathroom, and I need to eat. Once that's all sorted, I guess I'll bike the path provided just to see what it's like. Somebody's gotta keep this plot moving.

Offline bracessd

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Re: Story - Full Bloom
« Reply #14 on: 23. September 2022, 17:44:37 PM »
Looking forward to seeing the friendship that develops between Casey and Violet!