Beth's story

Postby lasse672000 » Mon Nov 05, 2012 1:22 pm

This is a spin-off of: viewtopic.php?f=37&t=19327

Hello everyone. My name is Beth Gallagher, and this is my story.
As you might know, I got brutally kicked out of Tam and Tom’s gang and sent back home. Not that I was the least bit sorry about that, but I did have a great time while I was there. I’ve since heard from a ‘reliable source’, that they got rid of the other four not long after I had been forced to leave. Oh, well! They seem to like their own company a bit too much, if you ask me.

Anyway, a couple of days after I had been forced to return home, my mum came and told me she had managed to secure a place for me at a boarding-school, in the opposite end of the country. There they would help me with ’my problems’.
“Oh? And which ‘problems’ are you referring to?” I asked in a frosty voice.
“You know! Your desire for being tied up or wrapped in blankets, and wearing diapers.” she blurted out.
“Ah, those ‘problems’. So you think that by going there, I would be ‘cured’?”
“Well, yes. I certainly hope so, because they charge an awful lot of money.” To which I replied with a very rude sound through my nose.

I arrived at the school, which still looked like the medieval castle it once must have been.
When the door opened, on well-oiled hinges I might add, I was asked, by a very strict-looking woman with a crackly voice if my name was Elisabeth Gallagher. When I said it was, I was told to step inside, put my suitcases on the floor, and put my hands behind my back. She took me on a whirl-wind tour of the castle, ending in the girls’ dormitory, more specifically in front of the bed where I was supposed to sleep. On it where some blankets, (maybe five or six) and in a box on the bed-side table some bandages, safety-pins and a pink satin ribbon. In a closet beside the bed, I saw stacks of diapers.
“My name ms. Grant, and I will personally wrap you in every one of those blankets every night at seven o’clock, and unwrap you every morning at seven o’clock.” she remarked. “After you have dressed, I will tie your hands together behind your back, and your personal servant will take you down to the refectory, and feed you your breakfast. She will then retie your hands in front of you, before the first lesson of the day start, and will be with you all day long, tending to your every corporeal need; such as feeding you, and changing your diapers. Now, let us get you into a school uniform. By the way, are you wearing a diaper now?”
When I told her I wasn’t, she just snorted, and muttered something rude about irresponsible parents.

Half an hour later, I was dressed in the schools’ uniform. For girls, it consisted of white pantyhose, and a very thin, navy-blue dress, with a black and white sailor collar and a red satin tie. I was also wearing the first of many of the schools’ diapers. It was an “all-in-one” and was held together by pieces of tape in two of the corners. My hands were tied together in front of me by my “shadow” as I like to call her, an elderly, frail-looking woman.
She grabbed my arm with a vice-like grip, and led me to my first lesson. She pushed me inside, and into a chair. From somewhere, she produced another length of rope. She bent down with a degree of flexibility that surprised me, given her apparent age, and used it to tie my legs together, from just below my knees to just above my ankles. A third rope was used to secure me to the chair. I looked around, and saw that every girl in the room wore the same type of thin, navy-blue dress and white pantyhose as I.
The boys are dressed in white shorts, ending just above their knees, and what appear to be thick white socks. (I’ve since learned, they wear pantyhose as well). Above the waist, they are required to wear a sailors’ blouse, sailors’ collar and a red tie.

The first morning, I had real trouble learning how to use a pen with my hands tied together. Just as I thought I had got the hang of it, it was time to go back to the refectory for lunch. When the bell rang, my “shadow”, and her colleagues, came in to the classroom. She untied my legs and retied my hands behind my back, grabbed my arm and almost dragged me out of the room.
The lunch was some kind of unidentifiable mash. In fact, every meal since I arrived, except breakfast, has consisted of one unidentifiable mash or another. The breakfast consists of a small bottle of baby-formula.

Looking at the schedule, I see there’s an hour of exercise. It will be real interesting to see, how we’re supposed to manage that, with our hands and feet tied together!
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Beth's story

Postby Plueschbabycd » Mon Nov 05, 2012 1:55 pm

Hallo I hop Beth's, will never again back normal Person. What is with punishment? Perhaps she found that this treatment what she like or try kick out of it.
Andrew :blindfold: :twisted:
"Don´t dream it, be it." Dr. Frank N. Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show

Re: Beth's story

Postby lasse672000 » Tue Nov 06, 2012 7:09 am

Looking at the schedule, I see there’s an hour of exercise. It will be real interesting to see, how we’re supposed to manage that, with our hands and feet tied together!

Later: Well that was, as I predicted, a very interesting hour of exercise, to say the least. I was wrong about one thing, though. My feet weren’t tied together, thank God.
First of all, it was for the whole school. The way it works, is apparently this:
7-12 year olds have only pouches tied over their hands, and get their very first diaper put on, on the first day of school, and can therefore run around pretty much as they please.
12-16 year olds have like me, their hands tied behind their backs. When you’re 15-16 you have your knees tied together as well.
16 and above: if you’re a girl, you get gagged and strapped into a wheelchair on your 16th birthday, preferably never to leave it again. If you’re a boy you can choose, whether to stay tied or not.

The exercises were apparently custom-made for the different age-groups. In my group, (hands tied behind back) we were required to walk up and down stairs, with a heavy book on our heads. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? The difficulty lies in doing it without the book falling off your head. The better you are, the more books they will put on your head. The best ones can balance four or even five books on their head.
Novice as I am, I found it VERY difficult, even with one book. But I have promised myself that I will succeed, and I’ve set myself a time-limit of three weeks in which to do it. To make things even worse, the little ones run around my feet, so I have to divide my concentration between the book on my head, and not tripping over one of them!
After that, I’m already looking forward to the day, when I get strapped in a wheelchair, never to get out of it again!

Two days later: I walked past a girl in the corridor a few moments ago. That’s nothing out of the ordinary, right? I mean, the school’s full of them!
The unusual thing about her was the she didn’t have her hands tied in pouches, nor were her hands tied, nor was she strapped in a wheelchair, but obviously a student here because she was wearing a school-uniform. She was balling her eyes out, because she was so ashamed, being unrestrained like that. It turned out she had called one of the teachers something rude (which is never a good idea) and this was her punishment.
“I’m so embarrassed! And I feel so naked, without any restraints!” she sobbed. “My big mouth’s once again given me big trouble! And I bet they’ll write home to my folks, and tell them all about what a rude daughter they’ve got! Then they’ll probably want to punish me too!” And she started crying loudly.
I so wanted to stay and console her, but my “shadow” grabbed my arm and dragged me away. I’ve not seen her since.
Whatever happened to her, I wonder? Will her parents give her the rough time she so feared? Did she have to be like that for long? Where is she now? Those questions probably have no answers.

Anyway, back to the present: it’s now shortly before 7 p.m. Ms. Grant will soon arrive to get me ready for bed, and wrap me in blankets. It’s always the same routine: she comes in and gets me out of my dress and pantyhose. I let my arms hang by my sides, and she ties a ribbon loosely around my waist, trapping my wrists.
I lie down on my back on the bed, and she changes my diaper, whether it is necessary or not (nowadays, it usually is). She wraps me tightly in 3 or 4 blankets, and winds a couple of layers of bandages tightly around me. She finishes it off with the satin ribbon, before my “shadow” carries me to a cart (she may be small, but she is mighty strong). I lie on my back on the cart, and because there is no mattress or anything on the bottom of it, it is very uncomfortable.

My cart is then dragged to the refectory, and she feeds me my evening mash. When she thinks I’ve eaten enough, (which I almost never have) she wheels me back to my room, and puts me to bed. By then, it’s usually around 8 o’clock. She puts on the TV-set which hangs above my head, so I can watch TV for a couple of hours.

She then comes in twice every night, to change my diaper. She always ties my wrists and ankles to the bed-frame, so I’m still unable to get out of bed.
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Beth's story

Postby lasse672000 » Tue Nov 06, 2012 8:27 am

This is just a short one, I wrote because I was bored
Today, it is Sunday.
Last night, my “shadow” told me she wasn’t going to let me out of bed today, which means I have to stay wrapped up and stare at the ceiling. She will only come in every four hours to change my diapers, and feed me.

At 9 this morning, she came in the first time, changed my diaper and fed me. She then turned on the TV. She was about to leave, when I asked her how I was supposed to change channels (my arms are, as you might remember, trapped against my body). She looked at me as if I was daft, and said:
”Just tell the TV what channel you want to watch and it goes there automatically. It’s not magic; it’s done with sensors or something. I don’t know, do I?” She slammed the door shut.
“Wow, you’re a happy fellow today, aren’t you? You have a nice day, too!” I muttered, and started flicking through the channels; all five of them. As I did, I happened to look down and see a bit of one of the blankets I was wrapped in. I saw he had used a pale-pink blanket, and from that deduced that the rest were blue, red and a couple of green ones. You notice; although not having been here all that long, I’ve already learned all the colours of my blankets.
Being able to see the blankets is unusual, because I’m normally completely tightly covered in a layer of white and/or pale-beige bandages from neck to toe, after being wrapped. It makes moving almost, if not completely, impossible; which is fine with me.
I started hollering to get any ones attention, and after quite some time, my “shadow” came in and asked, quite rudely I might add, what I wanted. I told her, and although rewrapping the section I was talking about, she kept muttering something about me somehow having done it myself, which I found quite ridiculous. She must have too, because she blushed, finished her duties and left as soon as she could.

The day has been very peaceful. All I’ve done is lie here and flick through the channels, have my diaper changed at regular intervals, and drinking formula. Tomorrow, it will be business as usual, and it will be great to get out of bed!
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Beth's story

Postby Plueschbabycd » Tue Nov 06, 2012 9:19 am

Hallo nice parts like them. That she can´t wait tile she become 16 I understand. That will stay in this school tile graduation. Perhaps can she ask her Shadow if there is way for get at least a day in the wheelchair or she had on a Sunday birthday and her Shadow surprise with it. Because she was very good schoolgirl and used not swearword against the teacher or other persons.
Andrew
"Don´t dream it, be it." Dr. Frank N. Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show

Re: Beth's story

Postby lasse672000 » Tue Nov 06, 2012 9:52 am

Its early in the story yet, Andrew. Anything can, and probably will, happen to her. I haven't worked out what, but something will happen quite soon!
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Beth's story

Postby lasse672000 » Thu Nov 08, 2012 11:11 am

My old “shadow” has apparently hastily retired “due to old age”. Why she hasn’t done it before I don’t know, because in my opinion she’s not that much younger than the castle itself! Apparently, she left after she changed my diaper around 4 am.
Anyway, I’ve got a new one. She’s much younger, and much more talkative. I like her! She came into my room, ‘unpacked’ me, changed my diaper and helped me get dressed and tied my hands behind my back, just as the old one did. The only difference, and that is a huge one, is that whereas the old one did her duties in almost complete silence, this one likes to chit-chat and gossip, almost as if we were the same age. That is really a nice change! I think her presence can even make the omnipresent mash they call food around here a bit less revolting.

It’s now early evening, and she’s been my”shadow”, all day. One thing I’ve learned pretty quickly, is that although she’s much younger than the one I had before, she can be every bit as strict. Let’s see what happens tomorrow. She promised me a surprise. Oh, I love surprises! Good ones, anyway.

Today is Saturday, and school ended after ‘lunch’. I thought my “shadow” was taking me back to my room, so I could have a nap. I needed one since I didn’t get much sleep last night. The girl next door screamed and moaned most of the night.
But my “shadow” didn’t take me to my room at all. Instead, she took me to a small room in the basement, and told me to wait outside. When she came back, she was pushing a wheel-chair! She told me to sit down in it, because I was old enough to start getting used to being in one.
I sat down, and after having busied herself with the straps on the arm-rests and just above the foot-rests for a couple of minutes, I was strapped in and could finally get a feel for what it really was like. Sure, I was strapped to a wheel-chair while I was with Tam and Tom, but this time around it felt very different somehow. Then I understood why; they had been reluctant to do it, while here they were happy to do it.

“From now on and ‘till you turn 16 in a couple of months time, I will strap you to this chair for a couple of hours a day, before I let you go to bed. Don’t worry, I’ve got ms. Grant’s, and your parents’ blessing, in fact they all but ordered me to do it.”

I sat back and really enjoyed the feeling. Then, from nowhere: “I’m also required to gag you. And don’t you start arguing with me, young lady!” she said. When she saw me opening my mouth, she simply shoved a ball inside and buckled it in place behind my head. “Thank you for doing my job easier!” she smiled.
“NNNGGGHHH!” I growled.
My “dear shadow” took no notice of my protests what so ever, as she forced my head backwards until it rested firmly in the head-rest. She fastened a strap real hard over my forehead. Then she went over the other straps, making sure they were tight, but not so tight it hurt.
She wheeled me to an elevator, and we went upstairs.

Now, I noticed something strange, something I hadn’t thought about before: me, being strapped in a wheel-chair like this seems to have made me invisible somehow. People I knew, people in my class even, passed me by without taking any notice of me, what so ever. It was as if I had turned into thin air! Not even when she accidentally bumped into someone, they took any notice. He or she just moved and went doing whatever that person was doing. Furthermore, no one talked directly to me, they instead talked to her ABOUT me, as if I wasn’t there or was deaf, which I thought was kind of annoying. Surely, I didn’t do anything like that. Did I? When I examined the thought a bit closer, I arrived at the sad conclusion I probably did. Or rather; I definitely did.

Later, when she had put me to bed, she said: “From now on, I will take you directly here after school and strap you to the chair, where you will remain for the rest of the day. Weekends you will be put in the chair, just as soon as you are dressed. No exceptions will be made, unless you are very ill indeed, then you will of course remain in bed all day, tightly wrapped in blankets, as before.

A couple of months later: I have almost left school and met the man, or should I say boy, whom I am supposed to marry. He seems to be a nice enough boy, and I think, no I know, I can make him bend the rules a (huge) bit.
He’s about my age, nondescript, with brown hair and horn-rimmed, thick glasses. We’ve been allowed, by the headmaster, to move in together, and, strangely enough, I kind of like him. I can see him as a very good and dear friend, but as a husband? I don’t know, only time will tell.
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Beth's story

Postby Plueschbabycd » Thu Nov 08, 2012 11:34 am

Nice part thank you.
But this show me it only fiction:
Not even when she accidentally bumped into someone, they took any notice.

I can say self your are for some air, if this happen you become very fast visible for them and can only wish that give not bad comment or even excuse for it. :)
Andrew
"Don´t dream it, be it." Dr. Frank N. Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show