Lila

Why should I have a bathing suit? The only water I experience is washing and showering here, of course, without the need for a bathing suit.

"Uhh"

"I'll bring a nice bikini for you. You'll be amazed. And let me look for some nice clothes that Alice can put on you tomorrow morning."

Shannon searches in my wardrobe and finally finds a pair of shorts that are way too big and a baggy T-shirt. But I do not have anything nicer. Nobody ever bothered about my appearance.

"I'll put it on the table. Now it's time to sleep, my darling. I'll see you again tomorrow."

I try to smile, but once again, it is just a grimace. But I'm sure Shannon understands me.

Yes, she smiled and kissed me again before she leaves.

"I'm so glad we met, Lila. Sleep well, dearest. And I'll see you tomorrow."

Chapter 3 - Pool Party

I could hardly wait for the afternoon. Honestly, I cannot remember ever being this excited. Alice wanted to put away what Shannon prepared for me to wear today, but I was able to protest. Then I wanted her to shave me, my arms, my legs, and my crotch. This was harder, but she finally did it. And for today, I do not want to wear any underwear or diapers, of course. There will always be someone with me to help me with the toilet.

I'm waiting for Shannon after lunch, getting more and more excited. My arms start to wriggle around. Alice put my hands in thick wool socks so I could not hurt myself. You cannot put gloves on my hands because I cannot open my spastically clenched fists. Eventually, the nurse straps my arms to the wheelchair because they are flailing about more and more.

Finally, the door opens and Shannon comes in. Today she does not wear a gown, just a light cloak, shorts and a top, both summery and breezy and complementing Shannon's long, tanned legs perfectly. A beach bag hangs over her shoulder. Lime green sunglasses are tucked into her curly brown hair. The flip-flops on her bare feet clatter across the floor.

"Hello Lila, everything OK? Are you looking forward?"

"Uhh, uh, uhh" and "Hello Shannon, yes. Nice to have you here," I answer in my monotone, emotionless, artificial voice.

As Alice finally left, Shannon kisses me first. She smiles at me and caresses my face. Her hands are soft and gentle, tender. For a moment, we look deep into each other's eyes, and we both know that there is more between us now, that Shannon is more than just my afternoon nurse.

"Let me look at you. Beautiful, much better than yesterday. But look what I brought to put on you for the pool."

Shannon searches for something in her bag and pulls out a red string bikini.

"For you. It looks great, doesn't it? A little more than nothing. It will show off your beautiful legs and breasts perfectly. You are beautiful; believe in me!"

"Uhh uhh" I moan excitedly.

Shannon searches her bag again and pulls out a pair of cutoff jeans and a crop top.

"Look, for you. I'll put it on you for the way to the pool party. I bet you'll look stunning in it. Shameless tantalizing. Do you know how beautiful you are? How you shine when you smile?

At first, I think, "Bullshit, how can someone in a wheelchair be beautiful? And how can my grimace shine when I try to smile?" I'm severely handicapped, so I cannot be beautiful, can I? But it is exciting to think that Shannon may be right, and that is why people are staring at me, and not just because of my disability.

"I changed it for you. The front and back parts are not sewn but only tied together. I can easily put it on you. I just need to lay you on the back piece, pull the front piece up between your legs and tie everything together. It will definitely fit because I cut off plenty of fabric on the sides, and that certainly leaves enough open to see all of your bare legs. I'm sure your beautiful legs will look great."

I get aroused thinking of Shannon undressing me and fumbling between my legs to get the shorts sorted, and I feel that I'm getting wet.

"Uhh, uhh," I moan. My arms and legs are going crazy, wriggling and twisting in the harness. Luckily, I'm strapped in tight as my body fidgets around. I feel spittle running out of my mouth and dropping from my chin.

"Uhh, uhh, uhh" I stammer excitedly and with my artificial monotone voice, "Hurry!"

"Ok, let's get you changed. At first, shorts and a top. I'll put the bikini on you later at the swimming pool."

Shannon opens all the straps that fix me to my wheelchair, lifts me up, and puts me on the nursing table. I cannot lie still; my arms and legs are wriggling around from excitement and anticipation. But Shannon holds me tight as she undresses me, so I do not fall off. Her eyes widen as she sees my freshly shaved pussy. She runs her fingers over the smooth skin at my crotch, bends down and kisses me gently between my legs. Feeling her warm, soft lips on my pussy drives me crazy. My body reacts violently; my fists clench inward and my arms spin. I moan loudly, and spit runs out of my mouth again.

Shannon goes on, caressing me between my legs, her fingers slowly finding their way to me, inside me, gently and tenderly, finally finding my clit. She kisses my breasts, suckles on my nipples, caresses them with her tongue, her fingers between my legs again, at my crotch, slowly finding their way inside me, to my clit again, gently and tenderly, caressing my clit until my orgasm takes me away.

Shannon holds me tight, smiles at me, and kisses me again. I would love to do something for her too; caress her, feel her soft skin, explore her body, maybe even feel her pussy, her clit, and play with it. But I know that is nonsense, that I will never be able to do so, that I will never be able to open my fists and use my hands. And I'm unable to control my arms, get my hands anywhere, or touch anything. Shannon knows that, of course, and also knows that I would like to touch her and caress her. She takes my clenched hands, kisses my fists, pulls one hand to her pussy, the other to her breasts, to her nipples, caresses them with my hands, and kisses me. Of course, she cannot get my fist into her pussy, but finally pushes her own fingers into it, and, without unhanding my fist, I can feel everything. I feel her wetness and her orgasm.

We are both out of breath. Shannon holds me tight for a while before cleaning me up and getting me dressed.

"Lila, there isn't that much room for your big wheelchair at the swimming pool. I'll take your talker with me. We can do it like this: one "uhh" for yes, two for no, and with three 'uhh' I'll get the talker. All right?"

"Uhh"

"Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh"

"I didn't get it. What is four times 'uhh'?"

"Kiss me, urgent!" I answer with my talker and smiled at her.

She kisses me, puts me in my small manual wheelchair, straps me in, and pushes me in front of the mirror to let me see myself. Yes, Shannon is right. She made me aware that I'm beautiful. I'm not beautiful besides being disabled, but I'm beautiful as a person overall. My disability is a part of me in the same way as the color of my hair or the shape of my nose, indivisible, but it does not define me and I do not want to be seen as Lila, the disabled girl. I'm Lila, and that is it. I'm beautiful, and it is time to show it. I look gorgeous in Shannon's jeans and top. The skinny, high cut off jeans leave no doubt that I am naked underneath and emphasize my beautiful legs. I have long, slender legs that look elegant even though they like to flail about uselessly and have to be strapped into the wheelchair. My feet are slender too, spastically twisted but also elegant. And my breasts and nipples are clearly visible under the cropped tight top. I have never been dressed that shamelessly, and I'm sure I look stunningly sexy and attractive. I'd like to stand in front of the mirror to have a look at myself, standing on my own straight legs, but this is impossible. I cannot keep my legs straight and stand on them, not even with help. Two nurses tried it once. They undressed me, lifted me out of my wheelchair and carried me in front of a mirror, holding me up by my shoulders between them. I caught a glimpse of myself, but then my head liked to tilt forward and turn sideways. I tried to get it straight and up again, but in vain. It was impossible.

"Wow, you look great. You are outrageously sexy and shameless. I'm proud of you. And is this all for me?" Shannon asks and smiles.

"Uhh"

The swimming pool is not that far away. Everything is accessible, and there is a changing room with a toilet for disabled guests, a fixed shower on the wall for people who can stand or at least sit on a bathroom chair, and a lounger under a hand-held shower head for guests who cannot. There are Velcros on the lounger to strap guests like me, who cannot even lie without help. It's a large room with enough space for my wheelchair and for both of us to change.

"Uhh, uhh, uhh"

Shannon retrieves my talker and holds it in front of me, watching me as I type the text with my eyes.

"Need toilet"

Shannon lifts me onto the lounger and undresses me. The toilet is accessible to people with disabilities, with bars and securing straps for both shoulders. Shannon adjusts everything to my measurements, sits me down, and secures the straps around my shoulders. The support under my shoulders keeps me upright, and I can sit alone. My arms and legs can wriggle as they want, but nothing can happen; my legs cannot push me up, and I cannot topple over or fall down.

It takes me quite a long time now. I can't influence that, but it does not matter. I can watch Shannon as she puts on her bikini.

Shannon wants me to watch her. She is undressing slowly in front of me, lustfully showing her body as she showers. And she dries off herself just in front of me, slowly and lascivious, enjoying my gaze.

"Do you like me?"

"Uhh"

Shannon continues, putting on a beautiful strapless bikini that fits her perfectly, showing nothing but giving a hunch of everything.

"Are you ready?"

"Uhh" yeah, I did not realize it, but I'm done and Shannon puts me on the lounger, fixes the straps around my arms and legs, so she does not have to hold me, cleans my butt and gives me a shower. At least she put my new bikini on me. The thong is very simple. Shannon does not have to untie my legs; she just has to pull the strings of the thong under my back and between my legs, and tie them again. The top is more difficult as my arms have to go through the loops. Shannon has to untie me and fumble my wriggling arms through them. But it seems to be worth it, as Shannon's eyes widen.

Of course, at the hot tub, people stare at us. Shannon, a beautiful woman, and me, obviously disabled, but also beautiful and attractive. My string bikini is shamelessly teasing. I'm proud of myself. I like my body and I want to show it off.

Most of the time, it is the men who stare at me. I'm used to it and I know exactly what they are thinking. A woman is either beautiful and attractive or disabled. I'm disabled and therefore sexless in their view. Beauty and attractiveness do not matter. I hate people staring at me only because of my disability. Sometimes I think they are handicapped too; you just do not see it as they are mentally handicapped. My head is OK. I'm intelligent, even more intelligent than most of you. I took a test once.

Shannon wants to put me next to her on the bench in the hot pool, but that does not work. My legs are splashing around, and Shannon can barely hold me. Eventually, Shannon turns me over and puts me on her lap. That's much nicer, much closer. She has a better grip on me now, and I can't slip away.

A guy in the hot tub is still staring at me. An ugly guy, with a big belly and flabby fat everywhere, disgusting. I do not understand that. Doesn't he have a mirror? Can't he take better care of himself? Does he believe a woman might be interested in him? Does he think that he has a chance at me just because I'm disabled? Shannon dressed me provocatively sexy, but not for him!

"Uhh, uhh, uhh"

Shannon gives me a deep kiss here in public. Everybody should see it. Then we both stare at him until he leaves.

We are not the only ones glad that he is gone. Now we can enjoy the warm water, the sun, and our closeness. Shannon holds me tight in her arms.

Some time later, we go to the pool. The pool party is running. Lots of people are listening to the music and dancing. There is a bar and small trays for drinks everywhere. There are a lot of loungers on the lawn, including larger ones for two. Of course, these loungers do not have the capability to strap me in. Shannon lays me on my stomach so that she can get drinks for us without hurrying. Lying on my stomach, my arms and legs can only wriggle a little, and my legs are less active. This way, I can be alone for a short time. Shannon turns my head aside and puts it on a towel, so I do not wet the blanket if my mouth likes to open. Then she leaves to get drinks for us.

A lot of people are waiting at the bar. I can see the line. Shannon will need some time. But even if I lie on my stomach, it does not go well for long. My arms start to wriggle, pushing me up again and again, moving me slowly to the edge of the lounger. I try to stop this, to keep my arms still, but as always, there is nothing I can do about it. Then my legs join in too, pushing me further and further.

"Hello, I'm Tom. Do you need some help? Is there anything I can do? May I hold you?" I hear a voice at my back, calm and firm, trust-inspiring. Tom goes to the side of the lounger where I can see him.

"Uhh"

"Ok, I guess 'uhh' means yes. What is 'no'?"

"Uhh uhh"

"Ok, I'll hold you tight for now. Shall I turn you around?"

"Uhh uhh", no, I'd like to sit and look at you, Tom.

"Just hold you tight?"

"Uhh uhh"

"Just sit?"

"Uhh"

"Shall I put you in your wheelchair or do you want to sit next to me?"

"Uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh, uhh"

"Sorry, wrong question. You cannot answer that. Do you want to sit next to me?"

"Uhh," of course. This is what I want. Feeling Tom's hands holding me is much better than being strapped into my wheelchair.

Tom lifts me up and sits me down next to him, holding my arms and legs.

I like Tom holding me; I like feeling his strong arms and the firm grip of his hands on me. Tom is doing well. I feel safe and protected in his arms. He tells me that he has a sister who is also disabled, and he accompanied her to a holiday camp for disabled people. So, that is why Tom knows how to help me, that he has to hold me securely all the time and how to talk to me even if 'Uhh' is all I can say.

But there was that word again: disabled. Yes, I'm disabled. Of course, I know it. After all, there is absolutely nothing I can do myself and I always need help, everywhere and for everything. But above all, I'm a woman, and I want to be perceived as a woman and not as a disabled person.

As my head topples down, I see the big bulge in Tom's swim trunks. I did not expect that now. No doubt, I am a real woman to Tom, attractive and desirable, and not just a poor disabled girl who cannot even sit on her own and has to be strapped in her wheelchair so she does not fall out. It is a good feeling to be perceived as a full-fledged woman; it makes me proud and self-confident. I want to look at Tom, but I can't. My head does not do what I want but turns to the side and keeps down, and I cannot get it up without Tom's help. Of course, he has seen where I was looking, blushes, and looks at me embarrassed. Sweet Tom.

"Uhh, uhh, uhh"

"I do not understand. What do you want to say?"

"Uhh, uhh, uhh"

"Do you have a talker? In your pocket? Should I get it?"

"Uhh"

"OK, can you sit alone for a moment?"

"Uhh, uhh"

Tom searches through the bag without unhanding me.

"Do you operate it with your eyes? Just turn it on, that's all?"

"Uhh"

Tom holds my talker in front of my face and watches me.

"Thank you," I say in my artificial voice. "Thank you, Tom. This means much more to me than you can imagine. You make me proud and happy, and more importantly, you make me feel like a woman, a real woman, beautiful and desirable, and not just a disabled woman. Thank you, Tom."

"What's your name actually?"

"Lila"

"Lila, of course you are a woman. What else? A beautiful woman. Do you know how beautiful you are? You look stunning, beautiful, attractive, desirable, and excitingly sexy. Don't you have a mirror?"

"No," I say, using the talker. Who is supposed to dress me up this way and then carry me in front of a mirror?

"Look, I'll show you. But I have to unhand you for a second."

Tom lays me on my back and arranges my arms and legs. Then he takes his mobile, unhands me and takes a picture. I'm able to keep my arms and legs still for the photo, but now I'm excited and I start to fidget again. Tom has just enough time to put his mobile away and hold me tight again before I fall off the lounger.

Tom sits me down next to him and shows me the photo.

"Do you like it?"

"Uhh"

I look really great. I am slim but not skinny, with nice feminine curves in the right places. My string bikini can barely cover my full, firm breasts; everything is clearly visible and makes me look stunningly sexy. I have never seen myself like this before. But who is going to dress me that way and carry me in front of a mirror? Nobody has time for that. And why? So that the nurses see me like this?

This was a good moment for a photo. My legs are nicely straightened, one arm is stretched out at my side, and the other is on my stomach covering the feeding tube. My arms and legs look quite natural, not spastically twisted and fidgeting around senselessly. Except for my twisted hands and feet, you can hardly see that I'm disabled.

Tom holds me tight again until Shannon is back with our cocktails.

"Hi Tom," Shannon says, and then to me, "I know Tom's sister."

"Thank you, Tom, for taking care of Lila," Shannon says, and kisses me. This time I get my mouth open all the way so she can give me a deep kiss.

"Tom, I saw you from the bar. Will you have a cocktail with us? Will you hold Lila while I give her a drink?"

"Lila, there are no straws. Do you think you can manage it without it? "

"Uhh"

I drink everything with a straw because I can hardly open and close my mouth. I always need someone to help me keep my mouth closed when I eat or drink. Now Tom holds me tight and keeps my head up, and Shannon runs the cocktail into my mouth, slowly and in small sips. It takes me ages to swallow, and Shannon makes sure I do not drool, but it works this way.

Then it's time for the pool party. Tom gets up with me and we dance. Of course, I cannot dance, but Tom carries me and I try to make my arms and legs wriggle in time to the music. Shannon dances too and takes my hands. Tom is dancing well, and we can even do a few spins. I enjoy it and I feel free and lighthearted. It does not matter anymore that I am disabled; there is only the music and our dancing.

"Should we go swimming?" asks Shannon after some time, and "Tom, will you carry Lila to the pool, and I'll get a floating collar for her?"

"Uhh"

"Should we go into the water already?" Tom asks me at the pool.

"Uhh"

"Do you want me to unhand you and just make sure that your head stays up?"

"Uhh"

I like warm water, the feeling of floating in the water, and the weightlessness. Of course, I can not swim. My arms and legs try to kick and fidget as usual, but nothing can happen. The water makes my uncontrollable motions much slower and smoother, and I do not have spastic cramps either. Tom carefully lets go of me in the water and only holds my head up. My arms and legs splash around, all by themselves. I'm unable to control or direct them.

Shannon is back and brings a floating collar, puts it around my neck and closes the straps. Then she puts bathing shoes on me and thick socks over my hands so that I can not hurt myself by splashing around. Now I can stay alone in the water. The floating collar is thick enough to keep my head up no matter what my arms and legs are doing.