Annas bedtime

Postby lasse672000 » Wed Jul 24, 2013 7:24 am

“Come on, Anna! Time for bed,” Charlie hollered.
“Coming, dad.” Anna appeared in the doorway, dressed in her newly bought, pink footy onesie, and jumped into bed. Her father fastened the belts around her waist and ankles, and pulled the pink, frilly, satin sleeping-mask over her eyes, before pulling the duvet up under her chin.
“Are you comfortable? Everything’s tight enough; nothing hurts?” he asked; as always.
“Yes dad; I’m comfortable and everything is tight enough and nothing hurts,” his daughter replied, after having tried to move her arms and legs; as always. “Could you read me a story?” she asked, as always.
He looked at her and smiled. “Of course I can,” he softly replied. “What kind of a story do you want to hear; one about a little princess, who is captured by evil persons, put in a cage, and rescued by a handsome prince; or one about an ordinary little girl living in an ordinary little town?”
It was a silly question really; he knew as well as she what kind of a story she wanted to hear, but it was as much a part of their nightly ritual, as her being strapped to the bed and having a mask put over her eyes.
“One about a princess, of course!” she replied and giggled.
“A princess, of course; silly me!” he said, and giggled too. “Well, let’s see then;” Charlie thought for a minute. He knew the heroine’s name had to be Anna, and the hero’s Charlie, no surprises there. As usual, he made the story up as he went along.

“Once upon a time in a land far, far away, lived a young princess, called Anna,” he began the story in a slow, soft voice, “she had her blonde hair in corkscrew curls, and was as pretty as a picture. She looked kind of like you, in fact. She always wore the finest silk dresses, and had just about everything a girl her age could want. In short, she was the apple of her parents’ eyes.
One day, however, there was a riot in the city where she lived, and she was dragged down to the dungeon. She was put against the wall; her silky-smooth hands were put in rough cuffs above her head. This was done ‘to protect her’ they said, but when she wanted to know how putting her in chains in the dungeon would protect her, they just laughed and closed the door.

Some time went by and she had to stand there all alone, but suddenly the door opened. It was the jester, Charlie, who carefully peered in.
“Princess, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, Charlie!” she moaned. “There was a riot, and I was put down here by some men, who said it was for my own protection. I’ve been here for ages, but no one has come to check if I’m still alive! I’m cold, my arms hurt, I’m hungry, and I want to get out of here! Can you please help me?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have the key on me, but I will think of a way to get it; don’t you worry, princess. In the meantime, let me see if I can’t get you some food!” He closed the door and slipped away, leaving her all alone, once again.

When he came back, he had a loaf of bread and a jug of water, which he gave her. Then he told her the person, who was now holding the keys to her shackles, was away on a trip, and wouldn’t be back for a couple of days.
“People can tell you a lot, when they don’t even notice your presence!” he said, with a wry smile.
Charlie came to visit her every day, bringing her food and water, and news of what went on in the castle. To her relief, she learned her father had managed to escape, and was now hiding in the mountains, and that he had managed to gather enough people to try to take back his throne.

One day, about two weeks later, there was a commotion outside the cell-door. When it opened it was her father who had come to rescue her. Beside him Charlie stood, with a broad smile on his face.
“Told you, sire;” he whined, “she’s alive and relatively well; Charlie’s seen to that, he has!”
The king broke the shackles with one mighty cut of his battle-axe, and father and daughter hugged each other for a long time. Then they went out of the dungeon, and were greeted by the cheering crowds.”

Charlie stopped talking, and looked at his daughter.
“She sure is a strange kid!” he thought. Ever since Anna was a little girl, she had had a strange phobia against her own bare hands and arms. She became hysteric every time she saw them, and her parents had taken her to numerous shrinks, who all told them to give it time, and that she’d grow out of it, eventually.
However, she hadn’t and now it had come to the point where she barely could stand using her arms, much less her hands.
She read and wrote, but that was all the use she made of her arms and hands, everything else she had taught herself to do with the mouth or feet.
She had nagged them until they bought the waist- and ankle-belts to put in her bed. All her onesie-pyjamas, as well as all her sweaters and t-shirts, had their sleeves cut off, and the holes sewn shut. Instead she had her wrists put in cuffs in front of her by Charlie. He wasn’t entirely sure why she wanted them, and she had once again become hysteric, when he asked her about it. The sleeping-mask was there to stop her seeing her arms move, in case she woke up during the night.

Out of bed, she wore a modified prison transport-belt, and the hands were covered by pouches. Now, Charlie feared she would start asking for ankle-cuffs, as the ankle-straps in her bed had been a relatively recent addition.
“Oh, well,” he thought, “as long as she’s happy, I’m happy!”
Whazzzz up!.

Re: Annas bedtime

Postby Plueschbabycd » Wed Jul 24, 2013 8:33 am

hallo nice little story. I wonder what children in neighbourhood and she get phobia her legs also. :)
"Don´t dream it, be it." Dr. Frank N. Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show