And so; it begins

a girl, who finds a wheelchair, sits down in it, and never leaves

Greta and her dad had moved into the house a couple of days before, and now she was down in the basement for the first time. She had looked in all the corners, and was on her way back upstairs, when she spotted something hidden under some boxes. She went over to have a look, and saw it was an old wheelchair.

The tyres were of course flat and it was rusty, but otherwise it looked to be in fairly good condition, as did the leather belts that hung from the back-rest, at waist-level, on the armrests, and just above the foot-rest.

She sat down in it, and found it was a tad big for her, but not by much. Having inspected it as best she could in the dimly lit room, she made the decision that, in the end, would change her life forever.

“DAD,” she hollered,” CAN YOU COME DOWN HERE FOR A SECOND? THERE’S SOMETHING I’D LIKE TO SHOW YOU.”

When he came, she showed him the chair and asked if he could renovate it. He gave it a thorough once-over.

“Sure,” he said and shrugged, “no problem. Do you want me to change the straps too?”

His daughter nodded. “Yes please. You see, I’d like to start using it; maybe not all the time to begin with, but now and then. Just to see what it’s like, not being able to do anything.”

Her dad, Stig, whose job was to renovate old wheelchairs among other things, agreed to take it to work, and try to get it in working order.  “But I hope you realize,” he warned her,” what you’re getting in to? Because I’m guessing you want to be as close to the real deal as possible, and not just the feeling of being helpless?”

 

On Friday two weeks later, he returned home with the renovated chair. Greta sat down in it, and found she liked it just as much now, as she had done when she found it. She asked her father to strap her in; and now she liked it even more. She liked it so much in fact she remained in it for the rest of the evening.

When she lay in her bed that night, she sighed, and told her father she wished she could use it forever.

He looked down at her.

“You really do like it, don’t you?” he asked, and she nodded.

He seemed to make a decision. “Well, all right then: here’s what we’ll do. I’ll strap you in it from tomorrow morning till Sunday evening, but you let me put you in diapers, and I’m not going to allow you move a muscle, which means you will be totally dependent on me to go anywhere and do anything. Have I made myself completely clear?”

She looked up at him with a serious look on her face. “Yes, dad,” she replied.

He went to a store which was open 24/7, and returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a pack of adult, all-in-one diapers, and put one on her.

“My, it sure is bulky,” she gasped.

“Yes it is. It was the bulkiest brand they had, actually.” he agreed, “but it’s only for use at night. I’ve also bought another brand of diapers, which aren’t quite so bulky, for use during the day. And remember, from now on; when you’re in the wheelchair for any longer period, you’re in diapers; O.K?”

“O.K, dad,” his daughter agreed.

 

The next morning, Stig woke Greta up; put a new diaper on her, got her dressed in a pair of white woolly pantyhose, a pair of pink Velour sweat pants and a “My little Pony” motif, put her in the wheel-chair, and tightened all the straps, before wheeling her to the kitchen and feeding her breakfast, consisting of gruel and vegetable stock. When she said she wanted a sandwich, he told her that she would only be allowed liquids or mashed food for as long as she sat in the chair, something she accepted,  albeit reluctantly. He also told her he’d be changing her diaper every four hours, and that she’d better make sure it was used by then.

After breakfast, he put sneakers on her feet, and took her for the first walk of the day. Slowly, he walked down to the mall, where they began window-shopping. Finding nothing, they decided to at least buy another pack of daytime diapers.

“Stig; fancy meeting you here!” a voice behind them cried.

“Megan; what a surprise,” Stig answered. “Megan; May I introduce my daughter, Greta? Greta; this is Megan, a dear friend of mine.”

Megan stood in front of Greta, who said: “How do you do,” as politely as she could.

“I’m fine; thanks for asking.” Megan confused replied. Then she turned to Stig and, still visibly confused, said: “You’ve never told me you had a disabled daughter?”

“That’s because I haven’t. Greta found this wheel-chair in the basement, and thought it would be cool if I restored it so she could use it, to see what it was like. I agreed to let her use it for the week-end if she, in turn, agreed to let me treat her as if she was disabled; so here we are!”

Megan looked first at Greta, then at Stig, then back to Greta, and shook her head.

 

When Sunday evening came, Greta reluctantly stopped using the chair and put it away.  

 

The whole week passed, and Greta just couldn’t get the feeling she had had, sitting strapped and helpless out of her head. Her father of course saw her yearning, but as he was so busy at work, he wasn’t able to do anything about it.

He talked to Megan about it over lunch one day.

“It’s not that I don’t want to help her,” he sighed and threw out his arms in despair,” of course I do. It’s just that I don’t have time to help her as much as she probably wants me to!”

“So she still likes the feeling of being paralyzed, does she?” Megan, rather superfluously, observed. “Well, why doesn’t she move in with me, and I could take care of her, for a while? Through connections I have access to everything I would need, from diapers to food, and I can get it delivered to my doorstep within 24 hours. If you want to, I could get you a similar scheme. The best thing is; it never costs more than half as much as it would, if you went to the store and bought the stuff yourself, plus you don’t have to carry it all.”

“That sounds great,” Stig said, “but let’s wait a while; shall we? Greta might not want to continue.”

“Mm; let’s wait and see, shall we?” Megan said with a wry smile. “You just bring her over Sunday night, and I’ll have everything I need to give her the best time of her life; until now, that is.” Then, as an after-thought: “Do you have her measurements? I need them to get her a better fitting, more modern wheelchair.”

“No, I don’t think so, but I can get them for you by tomorrow.”

“You do that, and I’ll have everything ready for you, when you come.”

 

Initially, Greta wasn’t too happy about having to move in with a stranger, but when her father explained that Megan had more time to help her fulfil her dreams, she accepted the offer, for what it was worth.

Sunday afternoon, Stig put a diaper on his daughter. Heading towards the door, Greta caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She thought it made her bottom look huge in the pink sweatpants she was wearing.

“I hadn’t realized wearing a diaper was that bulky? I do hope no one takes any notice of it.”

They arrived at Megan’s house half an hour later, and rang the door bell. She opened the door and guided them to Greta’s bedroom. In there was a wheelchair not unlike the one she had found in their house, only this one was a bit smaller in size, and therefore was a better fit. Greta sat down in it, and Megan strapped her wrists and ankles.

“Are you sitting comfortably?” she then asked, and Greta said she was.

She then turned to Stig and said:” While your daughter is here, I would like to give her a drug which relaxes the muscles in her body. The effect will last about twelve hours, and will disappear completely, when she no longer takes it. It has no adverse effect on the alertness or any vital organs, if given for short period of time. Will you give me permission to use it? I don’t think she will be able to enjoy the experience half as much if I didn’t, to tell you the truth.”

Stig looked at Megan, and then at Greta, scratched his head, and then said: “I must be mad but; O.K, you have my permission, on condition you give me a call and tell me how she’s doing; agreed?”

“Agreed,” Megan solemnly said. Then she took out a small vial with a clear liquid and a small syringe. She filled it and injected it in Greta, who only grinned from ear to ear.

 

  Greta almost immediately felt the effect, as her body relaxed and went almost completely numb. 

Greta and her dad had moved into the house a couple of days before, and now she was down in the basement for the first time. She had looked in all the corners, and was on her way back upstairs, when she spotted something hidden under some boxes. She went over to have a look, and saw it was an old wheelchair.

The tyres were of course flat and it was rusty, but otherwise it looked to be in fairly good condition, as did the leather belts that hung from the back-rest, at waist-level, on the armrests, and just above the foot-rest.

She sat down in it, and found it was a tad big for her, but not by much. Having inspected it as best she could in the dimly lit room, she made the decision that, in the end, would change her life forever.

“DAD,” she hollered,” CAN YOU COME DOWN HERE FOR A SECOND? THERE’S SOMETHING I’D LIKE TO SHOW YOU.”

When he came, she showed him the chair and asked if he could renovate it. He gave it a thorough once-over.

“Sure,” he said and shrugged, “no problem. Do you want me to change the straps too?”

His daughter nodded. “Yes please. You see, I’d like to start using it; maybe not all the time to begin with, but now and then. Just to see what it’s like, not being able to do anything.”

Her dad, Stig, whose job was to renovate old wheelchairs among other things, agreed to take it to work, and try to get it in working order.  “But I hope you realize,” he warned her,” what you’re getting in to? Because I’m guessing you want to be as close to the real deal as possible, and not just the feeling of being helpless?”

 

On Friday two weeks later, he returned home with the renovated chair. Greta sat down in it, and found she liked it just as much now, as she had done when she found it. She asked her father to strap her in; and now she liked it even more. She liked it so much in fact she remained in it for the rest of the evening.

When she lay in her bed that night, she sighed, and told her father she wished she could use it forever.

He looked down at her.

“You really do like it, don’t you?” he asked, and she nodded.

He seemed to make a decision. “Well, all right then: here’s what we’ll do. I’ll strap you in it from tomorrow morning till Sunday evening, but you let me put you in diapers, and I’m not going to allow you move a muscle, which means you will be totally dependent on me to go anywhere and do anything. Have I made myself completely clear?”

She looked up at him with a serious look on her face. “Yes, dad,” she replied.

He went to a store which was open 24/7, and returned a couple of minutes later, carrying a pack of adult, all-in-one diapers, and put one on her.

“My, it sure is bulky,” she gasped.

“Yes it is. It was the bulkiest brand they had, actually.” he agreed, “but it’s only for use at night. I’ve also bought another brand of diapers, which aren’t quite so bulky, for use during the day. And remember, from now on; when you’re in the wheelchair for any longer period, you’re in diapers; O.K?”

“O.K, dad,” his daughter agreed.

 

The next morning, Stig woke Greta up; put a new diaper on her, got her dressed in a pair of white woolly pantyhose, a pair of pink Velour sweat pants and a “My little Pony” motif, put her in the wheel-chair, and tightened all the straps, before wheeling her to the kitchen and feeding her breakfast, consisting of gruel and vegetable stock. When she said she wanted a sandwich, he told her that she would only be allowed liquids or mashed food for as long as she sat in the chair, something she accepted,  albeit reluctantly. He also told her he’d be changing her diaper every four hours, and that she’d better make sure it was used by then.

After breakfast, he put sneakers on her feet, and took her for the first walk of the day. Slowly, he walked down to the mall, where they began window-shopping. Finding nothing, they decided to at least buy another pack of daytime diapers.

“Stig; fancy meeting you here!” a voice behind them cried.

“Megan; what a surprise,” Stig answered. “Megan; May I introduce my daughter, Greta? Greta; this is Megan, a dear friend of mine.”

Megan stood in front of Greta, who said: “How do you do,” as politely as she could.

“I’m fine; thanks for asking.” Megan confused replied. Then she turned to Stig and, still visibly confused, said: “You’ve never told me you had a disabled daughter?”

“That’s because I haven’t. Greta found this wheel-chair in the basement, and thought it would be cool if I restored it so she could use it, to see what it was like. I agreed to let her use it for the week-end if she, in turn, agreed to let me treat her as if she was disabled; so here we are!”

Megan looked first at Greta, then at Stig, then back to Greta, and shook her head.

 

When Sunday evening came, Greta reluctantly stopped using the chair and put it away.  

 

The whole week passed, and Greta just couldn’t get the feeling she had had, sitting strapped and helpless out of her head. Her father of course saw her yearning, but as he was so busy at work, he wasn’t able to do anything about it.

He talked to Megan about it over lunch one day.

“It’s not that I don’t want to help her,” he sighed and threw out his arms in despair,” of course I do. It’s just that I don’t have time to help her as much as she probably wants me to!”

“So she still likes the feeling of being paralyzed, does she?” Megan, rather superfluously, observed. “Well, why doesn’t she move in with me, and I could take care of her, for a while? Through connections I have access to everything I would need, from diapers to food, and I can get it delivered to my doorstep within 24 hours. If you want to, I could get you a similar scheme. The best thing is; it never costs more than half as much as it would, if you went to the store and bought the stuff yourself, plus you don’t have to carry it all.”

“That sounds great,” Stig said, “but let’s wait a while; shall we? Greta might not want to continue.”

“Mm; let’s wait and see, shall we?” Megan said with a wry smile. “You just bring her over Sunday night, and I’ll have everything I need to give her the best time of her life; until now, that is.” Then, as an after-thought: “Do you have her measurements? I need them to get her a better fitting, more modern wheelchair.”

“No, I don’t think so, but I can get them for you by tomorrow.”

“You do that, and I’ll have everything ready for you, when you come.”

 

Initially, Greta wasn’t too happy about having to move in with a stranger, but when her father explained that Megan had more time to help her fulfil her dreams, she accepted the offer, for what it was worth.

Sunday afternoon, Stig put a diaper on his daughter. Heading towards the door, Greta caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She thought it made her bottom look huge in the pink sweatpants she was wearing.

“I hadn’t realized wearing a diaper was that bulky? I do hope no one takes any notice of it.”

They arrived at Megan’s house half an hour later, and rang the door bell. She opened the door and guided them to Greta’s bedroom. In there was a wheelchair not unlike the one she had found in their house, only this one was a bit smaller in size, and therefore was a better fit. Greta sat down in it, and Megan strapped her wrists and ankles.

“Are you sitting comfortably?” she then asked, and Greta said she was.

She then turned to Stig and said:” While your daughter is here, I would like to give her a drug which relaxes the muscles in her body. The effect will last about twelve hours, and will disappear completely, when she no longer takes it. It has no adverse effect on the alertness or any vital organs, if given for short period of time. Will you give me permission to use it? I don’t think she will be able to enjoy the experience half as much if I didn’t, to tell you the truth.”

Stig looked at Megan, and then at Greta, scratched his head, and then said: “I must be mad but; O.K, you have my permission, on condition you give me a call and tell me how she’s doing; agreed?”

“Agreed,” Megan solemnly said. Then she took out a small vial with a clear liquid and a small syringe. She filled it and injected it in Greta, who only grinned from ear to ear.

 

  Greta almost immediately felt the effect, as her body relaxed and went almost completely numb. 

The End

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