Magician 04: Apprentice

Magician 04: Apprentice

He's a Ventriloquist, but she's no dummy

I'm one of the invisible people. You know, handicapped. I'm paralyzed from the waist down. Yeah, that sucks, but over the years, I've learned to deal with it. Now, I'm back in rehab because of another car accident. At least I was parked this time, so the paperwork wasn't as bad. Funny things happen in parking lots.

I am currently living at the rehab place, as I need a lot of work, and getting my replacement van and wheelchair is taking a while. At least it is all paid for by my insurance. The other driver's got problems, as the cops learned his blood alcohol was way too high. The insurance company was all, "Yes, ma'am," and, "Of course, Miss Helen." They knew he was in the wrong, and smelled big money. I don't blame them, but sometimes, I think they forget I can hear them when they talk to each other.

I don't know when I first noticed, but I've been able to overhear quite a lot I shouldn't be able to. I don't know if I have super hearing, or what, but little escapes me. Maybe that's why I heard about a therapist at the center, Jack. He does a weekend magic show for the kids. Not much, but the kids enjoy it. The center of his act is when he has a scene with his dummy. You see, he is a ventriloquist. At least, when he is not not being a therapist. The kids love the act, because he could make the dummy so lifelike. And they were always fooled into thinking the dummy actually speaks.

But I heard the rumors. Some of the old-timers said things about him, and how unnatural his act was. The dummy moved in ways that it shouldn't be able to. They would stop talking if someone else showed up, but somehow, they never noticed me.

Well, I had been there two months, when I was informed that my current therapist found work elsewhere, for more money. They needed to assign another to me. Well, I had seen Jack's show a few times by now, and even talked to him. I thought he was nice, kind of cute, and so I asked if he could be my therapist. Turned out, I got my wish. I would see him three times a week, for two hours at a time. He was always kind, and I could see he looked down my shirt whenever he thought he could get away with it. I also had a lesser workout, where I had a safety watcher, but it was otherwise on my own.

Since I worked from home four out of five days, I had little reason to get dressed up every day. So I was in the habit of comfortable clothes. I didn't bother with shoes, as they were a pain to get on, and no one would know. I usually wore a wraparound skirt that went to the knees, but I didn't bother with underwear. This avoided pulling clothes up my legs. Fortunately, I could work half days here, with a phone, a headset, and a tablet. Still, it was tiring, what with all the other rehab work I had to do. Yet, I could see the rehab was improving me all the time.

I also didn't wear a bra. I found it to be more bother than it was worth. Sitting all day long, my tits didn't bother me, even though they were above average size. Sometimes, I would need to video conference, but that only needed me to look nice from the waist up. Company policy was a white shirt, and I had no problem with that, but in good lighting, you could see the coloration of my nipples through the shirt. At home, the light was dim enough, that they never showed, so I never worried. Here, where it is brighter, with the work shirts my brother grabbed, it was a small problem. While I could be offended, I actually liked the attention. So much so, that at night, I would play with my nipples under the covers, and sometimes come.

In addition to not bothering with underwear, I only wore a top to sleep. I had tried pajamas, but they were difficult to put on, and just got all caught up in the covers. I even tried sleeping in a skirt, but that was worse. Eventually, I settled on a sexy teddy. Now it was an old one, small and worn, since I had had it for years. It barely covered my breasts. You could clearly see the shape of my nipples, and when the room lights were on, it was kind of translucent. This way, I could sit up in bed, and be decent, as long as I kept the covers on and the lights low. That's how I spent my nights here, since the only people that might see me exposed were female medical personnel when they helped me dress and undress.

Well, one day, I was watching Jack do his act for the kids. I was to the side, so I was able to see what he did with his hands in the back of the dummy. I don't know why, but today I really wanted to understand how he brought the dummy to life. But try as I might, his hand was in the wrong place, or too many things were happening to the dummy at once. It seemed impossible. So, after the show, instead of wheeling myself back to the common area, I stayed and watched him pack up. That's when I saw his secret, or rather, that he had a secret. Because what I saw was a nearly solid back on the dummy under its shirt. There was no place for his hand to go inside and control it, only a pair of finger holes.

So I quietly rolled up to him, and cleared my throat. Jack jumped, startled, turned around, and said, "Ack, I didn't see you there."

"I can tell."

"What can I do for you, Helen."

"Well, Jack, I was watching your act from the side, and thought it was great. There's just one problem."

"Oh? Did I offend you, or make a mistake?"

"Mistake, maybe. Something strange, definitely. You see, just now I saw you put the dummy away, and saw its back. There's no place to put your hand."

He looked anxious, and finally asked, "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"I have no reason to, but it seems rather odd, don't you think?"

"Well, while I can do it the traditional way, I found some years ago, that I could place my hand in the center of the back, and will the action I wanted through my hand. It took a few months to perfect it, and learn how to hide it, but apparently, I need more work on the latter."

"Perhaps I can help."

"How so?"

"You can practice, with me watching. I can give you pointers, where I see you not fully hiding your 'talent'." I used my fingers to air quote the last word.

"Maybe so."

Over the next month, after my therapy session, while I recovered my breath, I watched him with the dummy. I watched critically, and advised him where he slipped up. Soon, he was doing a lot better, but we realized he was still too vulnerable to the back or side. So he agreed that it would be best to not have people to the side or behind him, if he could help it.

One day, after a particularly hard new exercise, I said in my frustration, "Why not just stick your hand up the back of my shirt and make my body do the exercise?"

I was too angry with myself to see the confused look on his face. I also missed the thoughtful look. I didn't even realize what he was about to do, until I felt him pull the back of my shirt up. "Huh?"

He didn't say anything, but slipped his hand up my shirt, and I could feel him spread his fingers. Then, suddenly, I felt something below the waist, even as my right arm was starting to do the exercise. It didn't do it very well, but as I sputtered, he tried again. I calmed down, as I realized what he was trying, so I focused on doing it with him. I could almost hear his encouragement. His hand got the exercise to work a lot better, but the tingling in my lower right leg was distracting me.

After at least a dozen tries, I finally did the exercise. I thought I heard him say something, but I didn't quite catch it. That's when he pulled his hand back out. Just then, the feeling left my lower body.

"Um, Jack?"

"Yes?"

"When you did that... whatever, something happened."

"Yeah, I saw."

"No, not that, or rather, not just that. Something else."

"What do you mean?"

"For a brief while, I could feel my legs."

"WHAT?"

"Yeah, I felt a tingling on my lower right leg. Somehow, whatever you do, it seems to affect my nervous system."

"I never expected that."

"I wonder, could you make me stand up?"

"I don't know. It might be dangerous. What if you fall? I don't know that I could keep you from hurting yourself, and explaining it would be even harder."

"I see your point. What do you think we could do, to try?"

"I don't know, but what say we think about it? Come back to it in a few days?"

"Yeah, let's."

The next few days I was so distracted by the possibility, that my boss asked if I was okay. I just told him I was having trouble at therapy, with a new exercise that was giving me headaches. He suggested I take some vacation, perhaps work every other half-day, so I could focus better. I did as suggested, and my work improved, since I had more time to get it done.

Finally, I came to a decision. During the next rehab session, I said, "Jack, I've made a decision. I want to try and walk, with your help."

"That's a risky decision, Helen. Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want you to come to my room after I am in bed. Then we can have privacy, and the bed is an easy place to catch a fall safely."

"Well, there is that. Can you ask for a fall mat, just in case?"

"Sure. What day?"

"I'm here late on Thursday, so that would work."

"Yes! I'll expect you then."

We then focused on the rehab, and at times, he would place his hand on my back to help. We learned that it worked through my shirt. I did my best to ignore the growing feelings in my lower limbs, and instead focus on the exercises. Later that day, I expressed a worry that I might fall out of bed due to my tossing and turning, and I asked for a fall mat. They put them down on Wednesday. Our plan was ready.

Thursday was a morning-rehab day, but not with Jack. Basically, it was me working by myself, with a fall watcher. So, that meant I would take a shower that afternoon, to get all the sweat off. Until then, I remained in the common area, and socialized with the other residents. I saw Jack arrive just after I had lunch. After the shower, I decided to head to my bed, and have dinner in my room. With dinner over, I watched television to pass the time.

I fell asleep before Jack came. He woke me with a little shake of his shoulder. Opening my eyes, I realized it was Jack, and immediately sat up. I was still too groggy to notice him staring at my tits through my top. By the time I was fully awake, his eyes were on my face.

"Um, Helen? I have to ask, do you really want to do this?"

Although I was almost desperate to try, I couldn't fault him. "Yes. I have thought long and hard about this, and I have to try. Even if I fail, and fall. Even if I hurt myself, I must try. To not try is to give up. So let's do it." I then whipped the covers off my legs, and pulled them to the side, so I could turn to face him.

He immediately got a funny look on his face, and I couldn't tell why. "Jack? Is something wrong?"

"... Your... outfit?"

"What about it? This teddy covers sufficiently." I was actually turned on knowing my tits were a little bit more exposed than normal.

"Yes, it covers the top."

It took me a moment to understand what he meant. Then I looked down, and realized he could see everything below my waist. My mind went blank, and for at least ten seconds, I just sat there, frozen and exposed. Then I realized I liked the attention there as well. Now what do I do? It was another ten seconds while I thought about how to handle the situation.

Suddenly, he spoke, "Helen?"

I had just made my decision, so said, "Ignore it. I have no feeling down there, and the aides routinely touch me down there when they dress me. I stopped worrying about being seen a while ago."

That was a total lie, but I hoped he believed it. Now I had to pretend it was true, and ignore it also. Damn.

Jack was clearly embarrassed, but tried to be a gentleman and ignore it, for my sake. "Okay, Helen, I'll try. Let me stand to the side and reach around the back."

He did so, and I said, "I'll hang on to the lamp, and you try to straighten my legs beneath me. I'll do the same."

We made many attempts, some better than others. Sometimes, I could almost hear him give me encouragement. It must be an unconscious thing, as he denied saying anything. But what encouraged us both was that my legs were actually moving, using my own muscles. It wasn't until we heard the PA announce, "Lights out," that we realized we had been doing this for nearly two hours. So we called it a night, and he helped put me back in bed.

I dreamed. It was a nightmare, or an erotic fantasy. I dreamed I was back in college, on an ordinary day. I got up, showered, and dried off. I shaved my legs, all the way up, even shaving my pubic hair. I liked being smooth. Pulling out a shirt and skirt, I started to dress. I put on my shirt, added a bow around my collar. Thinking about my afternoon job, I put on some no-show socks, and then some nice flats, as I would be waiting tables. I grabbed my purse and backpack, and proceeded to head to the bus stop.

The bus ride seemed odd, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I saw quite a few guys staring at me, but they kept dropping their eyes. At least they didn't seem to be staring at my tits. Likewise, classes were a little off with that same feeling of being watched. Finally, I finished classes and headed to the diner I worked at. I went in the back, and grabbed my uniform shirt, and put my backpack in my cubbyhole. I headed to the restroom, where I swapped my shirt for the uniform. I thought the uniform was sexy, with the way it stopped halfway down my breast, just below my nipples. This meant I was showing a bit of underboob and all my stomach. I returned to my cubbyhole, and hung up my shirt.

Next, I grabbed my order pad, and checked to see what section I was in. Today, I was in the front, where everyone would see me. The fourth table I waited on was a bit rowdier, with some of my classmates.

"Hey, guys, settle down please. Now, have you had enough time to decide what you would like?"

"Sure have, Helen. I want you."

"Sorry, You know I'm not on the menu."

"You're not? You sure look delicious." He then placed a hand on my leg, and began rubbing up and down.

I tried to ignore him as best I could. "Again, I am not on the menu. So, please, what would you like to order?"

He started rubbing my leg a bit higher. "Well... I guess I'll have some coffee. Oh, and some wheat toast."

His hand was continuing to get higher, and I wasn't sure how much longer I could ignore it. "What would you like on your toast? Butter, jam, cream cheese?"

His hand rose some more. "Well, I think I'll have jam. Not grape, or strawberry. How about... peach?" At the word, "peach", his hand finally moved up and he began rubbing my vaginal lips.

I immediately looked down, and saw that I wasn't wearing the skirt I had planned to wear today. Since I threw away my panties years ago, that meant that I was naked from the bottom of my breasts all the way down. Even as I was in shock, he moved further, and began to finger me.

I was in such shock, I retreated into the job, and said, "Sorry, we don't have peach jam. We have grape, strawberry, and mint. What do you want on your toast?"

He continued to finger me, and said, "Nothing. I found some jam." He then put another finger into me.

"Right." I pulled back, causing his fingers to exit, and then moved over to the next guy. "And for you?"

Almost immediately, he placed a hand between my legs, and as he ordered, his hand slid up, and he started to finger me. "I'll have the house special breakfast, with pancakes, sausage, and orange juice."

I was getting quite wet, and trying hard not to lose it. I pulled back, and walked around the table. Before I even opened my mouth, the third guy was fingering me.

"Uh... What would you like to order, sir?"

He was going at it fast and hard. But he spoke slowly. "Well, Ms. Helen, I'm not sure what I want. What's today's specials?"

"..." I had trouble speaking. I could feel an orgasm building. So I did my best to ignore it, and took a deep breath. "Well, today's soup special is Wedding soup. The sandwich special is BLT on rye. And the dinner special is baked cod with lemon. Would you like one of these?"

"I'll go for the sandwich special. Tell me, Helen. Do you recommend any dessert?" With that, he reached in and pinched my clit.

That sent me over the edge. I had no idea how I remained on my feet. I was having an orgasm in front of everyone. I even squirted all over his hand. He just smiled. Eventually, my orgasm stopped, and I was able to focus on him. "Uh... what was your, I mean, would you like to have any dessert?"

"I just did."

"Okay. In that case, I'll put your order in." I walked away, and I felt his fingers get pulled out of my vagina. I put the order in, and then headed to the restroom. I went into a stall, sat, and played with myself, to get it all out of my system. After coming a second time, I wiped myself down, then headed to the sink. There, I wet some paper towels, to give myself a better wipe-down, and get all cleaned up. Walking up to the hand drier, I put my waist close, and let it dry me off. It took three cycles to complete the job.

Now, I had to leave the restroom. Half-naked. It must have taken several minutes before I gathered my courage. I went to the manager, and apologized. "Mr. Jackson, I'm really sorry about that. It was an accident that I forgot to dress completely."

As he responded, I suddenly felt his hand between my legs, as he began to finger me. "No problem, honey. The customers don't mind, so go on and do your job. I'm sure your tips will be better today." With that, he turned me around, and gave me a tiny shove back out to the floor. Stumbling a bit, I steadied myself, and went back to work. It seemed that from that point on, every customer I had would finger me, even the girls. I must have come several times. Eventually, my break came.

I spent some more time in the restroom, coming, cleaning and drying myself. Returning to work, the next table I went to had several guys. The first one fingered me, and I tried to ignore it. But then another guy reached up and started playing with my nipple. At first, I thought he had slipped his hand up under my shirt. But when I looked, I was no longer wearing a shirt. I was naked. Oddly, my name tag was pinned to the upper part of my breast, maybe two inches above the nipple.

I don't have piercings, let alone pierced nipples. So why was this tag piercing my breast? When I got their orders, and put them in, I took a moment to see the boss.

"Mr. Jackson? How did this name tag get here?"

Again, he started to finger me. What he said next surprised me. "Helen, when you decided to be a nudist, you tried putting it through your nipple, but that kept people from playing with that nipple. So you started putting it higher. See?" At that point, he started playing with both nipples. "You said you like the attention, and this way, you can get it. Also, you can even pull a nipple up and suck it." I did just that, and he then spun me around, and gave me a little shove.

At that point, I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder. Groggily, I sat up. Then I noticed that something was in my mouth. I focused, and then realized I was sucking on my nipple. I opened my mouth in shock, and then looked to the orderly. It was Adam. He was here to get me into my wheelchair. I went to pull my nightshirt down over my nipples, but for some reason I couldn't find it.

"Don't worry about that, Helen. Residents often get tangled in their clothing when they sleep, and it is not uncommon for them to simply remove the constricting clothing." At that point, he uncovered my legs so he could get me out of bed.

"Oh my! Looks like you had an accident." He then used a finger to feel the bed, and brought it up to his nose. "Oh! Make that a seriously wet dream." He smiled. "Let's get you cleaned up." He then headed into the bathroom, and came back with stuff to clean me with. He laid down some paper towels, and moved my legs over one at a time. As he did so, he used a washcloth to wipe me down, then paper towels to dry me. He even washed and dried between my legs.