Chapter 2: Darkness Falling

Almost exactly two months later, Dr. Winnie wanting to see if the serum's effects held for a decent amount of time, she was ready for her first client, Jess, a lifelong wheelchair wannabe who has always dreamed of being completely paralyzed from the waist down. But Jess was more than just their first client, unable to afford the procedure, Dr. Winnie approved her as their first pro bono client, making Wes unhappy and Dr. Winnie delighted.

“It's perfect Wes, come on, think about it, out first client will basically be a guinea pig, who shouldn't be charged anyway.” Winnie argued, making sense to Wes, who frowned, though then nodded in agreement a few seconds after.

Time was a factor as well for Jess, who had an eye disease that was degenerative. In time, she would go completely blind and wanted to enjoy herself as a para as much as possible until then. She didn't know exactly how long she had, but her eyesight was already bad enough that she couldn't drive and had to read regular print using a 5x magnifying glass. “I guess I have about twenty or so years left, maybe thirty, or at least I hope.” the soft spoken Jess explained frankly, over Skype, unable to get a ride to see Dr. Winnie in person for the first consult. But she was very matter-of-fact about it all, not getting upset. “When I was a kid, I didn't think it would last this long. I'm 'lucky' in that it seems to be a very slow degeneration for me. Others like me aren't so lucky.”

Wes and Dr. Winnie were impressed, and curious.

“How old were you?” The curious Dr. Winnie asked, on the phone, Wes listening on speaker.

“About five, and I've since met people with the same thing who are totally blind, who were diagnosed at my age but quickly lost their eyesight.” She explained, and seeing Dr. Winnie's face, added. “Oh I know, terrible huh? So I feel fortunate, well, some of the time.” Jess smiled to make sure Dr. Winnie knew it was Okay to smile too, at her little verbal wink. “I once chatted online with a guy who lived almost thirty years with no sign of it, then, boom, tunnel vision. He had to quite being a firefighter. So I guess I'm in the middle, diagnosed young but with a slow degeneration. Time is running out. I need this.”

“What about when you do, you know,” Dr. Winnie asked, not wanting to say it out loud.

“Go blind?” Jess finished.

“Yes, and you're also a para?”

“There's no reversal.” Wes added.

“You might not want to hear this, but I think I'll just worry about that when the time comes. I need this now. I need to be me, please, don't change your minds because I'm already disabled.”

On the other side of the Skype call, Dr. Winnie and Wes gave each other a look of agreement, then Dr. Winnie said. “Don't you worry, you deserve to be you, just like any other wannabe.” And with this, tears streamed from Jess's eyes, unseen by Dr. Winnie and Wes.

A few days later, it was finally time, and Wes picked her up at the train station, Dr. Winnie paying for her ticket as well, and took her to The Clinic, what Dr. Winnie wanted her house to be called. “Will everything be ready?” Jess nervously and impatiently asked, after some silence in the car, on the way.

“Dr. Winnie has already prepared the serum, knowing that you want plenty of muscle atrophy still?”

“Oh yes, I want to look as disabled I will feel.” She simply and softly said, staring out the window at the beautiful Northern California scenery.

“Great, and it won't take long for me to prepare the rest. Don't worry, you'll get your dream in no time.” Wes said, giving the nervous Jess a smile, reassuring her.

“I'm so sorry, I just never thought I'd see, well, I guess literally see the day when this dream would come true. And I'm so fortunate that this is happening at such a young age.” The twenty-three year old Jess said softly, again, but looking at Wes for once. Jess was a very shy young woman, a petite 5'4”, with short blonde hair.

Wes had noted, when he first saw her in the doorway, that she looked like a cross between a young Mia Farrow, but just a little rounder cheeked.

Back at the clinic, Jess' eyes wide and mouth open after seeing inside, then saw the chair, a Quickie Ori, one the decided standard chairs Dr. Winnie and Wes had agreed to offer as a for their pro bono clients. Jess, who liked the tubular footrest, then walked up to it hesitantly, drawn to it and without permission. She felt the wheelchair's back, and next bent down and felt the seat and ran her fingers around the push ring.

“You'll look great in it. It's much nicer than the one you have, huh?” Wes said, having seen her plain hospital chair in the corner, at her place. She then understood that it was her new chair and that she was perfectly welcome to touch it, or even sit in it.

“I got mine from an online friend to play with, though I don't really wanna tell what I had to do to get that chair.” Jess curiously confessed. “But at least it had leg rests that lifted. it was fun after he put me in in two long leg casts.” Jess further explained, bluntly, revealing just enough for Wes to get the idea. But she didn't look sad, she looked excited while explaining this, still admiring her future chair. “I can't wait to get into this one, and get rid of that old thing, and as a real para – I just can't believe...”

“Well believe.” Dr. Winnie said, smiling, turning her chair towards Jess, having been busy with some calculations.

“We don't have a nurse yet, so I'll be doing those duties, if you don't mind a male nurse?” Wes asked nervously, feeling Jess out, though knowing she might like him.

“That would be nice.” She politely said.

Wes continued. “I'll need to cath you and put you in a diaper once I've injected you.”

“I look forward to that.” Jess simply said, with a sweet smile.

“Ready?” Wes then asked, Jess nodded, and seeming to know what to do next, stripped off her simple flowery dress that conservatively ended just below the knees, revealing a simple white bra, then a small, but cute and perky pair of small B cups. Wes then noted her cute pair of matching cotton white bikini panties, which she slipped right off with no prompting, her panties at her ankles.

“Yes.” Wes said, as Jess undressed, Dr. Winnie still doing calculations in her chair, not paying attention. Dr. Winnie and Wes had not discussed the clothing situation. Only an injection to whatever part of the back was necessary, and Dr. Winnie had told Wes to order hospital gowns, one of which Wes had in his hand, staring at the cute naked pixie girl in front of him.

Jess took the gown, but didn't bother to fasten it at the back, so it just hung loose on her, and Wes could still see her cute, round cheeks. Jess sat on the massage table, and Dr. Winnie was back in charge, putting her calculations down, though the calculations were just busy work. She was nervous too.

“So,” Dr. Winnie said, taking over, “tell me the details, What do you want to feel, not feel? Where's the injury, so to speak?”

“I want to feel my belly button.” Jess said, not seeming to know the exact location say.

“Okay, so first, lie on your back for me Okay?” Wes requested. Jess did so, once on her back, on the massage table. “Now, tell me where to stop where you don't want to feel.” Wes instructed, Dr. Winnie spinning back around to type in her notes, not paying attention to Wes, who knew what to do, soon moving his fingers from the nape of her neck, slowly down her body, between her nipples, her chest flat, and finally over her soft, but flat tummy, and belly button.

“Stop.” She simply said, his fingers just above her pubic hair, unshaven and matching her blonde eyebrows.

“Where?” the bedside manner lacking Dr. Winnie asked Wes, not paying attention, not bothering to turn her chair. Though if she had, she wouldn't have been able to see far over the massage table anyway. This is what Wes was for and what a new nurse would eventually be hired to do.

“L5, as you wish.” Wes said, both informing Jess and Dr. Winnie.

“That will mean I can't walk, but can feel my belly button?” The ethereal pixie girl asked.

“Yes.” Dr. Winnie said, turning around with the syringe in her hand, handing it to Wes.

“Will it hurt?” Jess daintily asked, moving on from the details.

“Yes.” Wes came clean. “You'll feel a quick, sharp pain in your back as I inject you, but remember, this means that soon you'll be feeling nothing below that sharp pain. And you are sure about this? Once I give you the shot, you'll be paralyzed from here,” Wes asked, putting his fingers in her pubic hair and running them down passed her sex, then across her thighs, her knees, shins and over the top of her feet, taking the opportunity to touch her nude body, not caring much about being inappropriate, noticing Winnie was not looking again. But he also saw that Jess seemed to like it. “Now, turn over onto your stomach for me.” Wes ordered. She did so, excitedly, then Wes moved his fingers back up to the spot where he was going to inject her. “Should be about right here, L5”

“Very good Wes.” Dr. Winnie announced, back around again just in time, ready, eager to watch their first client, pushing her bottom off her chair slightly, her arms on the tires of her chair, straining to look over the massage table. She held that position until after Jess was injected, watching intently, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. Jess then closed her eyes, unseen by anyone, only opening them after the needle pricked into, then pierced through her skin, and deep into her back – just enough.

Like it did for Winnie, the serum took a little time to do its work, until Wes finally asked. “How do you feel, any headache or nausea?”

“I guess I feel fine, just... different.” She said, her voice muffled a bit by her face and cheeks in the massage table.

“Well, let's see how different.” Wes tested her back side first, with Dr. Winnie, though not straining anymore, giving her arms a rest, watching intently.

“Our first,” she said, “you're a very special girl,” she added curiously.

“I am.” Jess answered proudly.

Next, Wes helped her on her back to test her after the preliminary test while on her stomach revealed a good result so far. Jess had difficulty getting herself turned over, needing help, which also boded well for her results. Jess, along with Dr. Winnie, then watched intensely as Wes ran his fingers across various points, asking the question, soon finding out that the procedure was a success. Jess especially liked watching Wes use the pin to poke the bottoms of her once very ticklish, unfeeling, feet. He then tested the tops of her feet, her ankles and up her legs, Jess watching as he manipulated those unfeeling legs for the first time. Dr. Winnie delighted in watching this too, remembering her procedure and not feeling for the first time.

Wes got nervous as he moved higher, not sure how far he should go. He slowly moved up her thighs, starting on the outside to be safe, looking at Winnie, who didn't seem to care, then moved to her inner thighs – higher and higher up.

“We haven't hired a nurse yet,” Dr. Winnie suddenly interrupted, “but when we do, she'll give you a thorough gyno exam,” making Wes stop his exam just below where he wanted to go next.

But Jess, seeming much more confident, intervened for Wes. “Nurse Wes can do it,” she said, with a coy grin, no longer seeming the shy, demure girl she was when Wes first met her. “I don't mind. I want to see that I can't feel at all down there, is that Okay?”

Dr. Winnie looked at Wes, who looked back wanting, though trying to hide his excitement at the possibility of being the gyno again. Dr. Winnie wasn't happy about this, not wanting Wes, a non-medical professional to do their first medical exam so thoroughly, but this wasn't a normal medical procedure either. Dr. Winnie nodded, giving Wes permission, deciding that the customer, or client rather, was always right.

With the go ahead from his boss, Wes proceeded to give Jess an amateur gyno exam, though he made sure Jess and Dr. Winnie could see all he was doing, and touching, so she could control it. “Now, what do you want to test?” he asked, wanting to gain Dr. Winnie's trust too.

“Touch it, spread it, I don't know.” She blushed, her shy self returning. She watched, her head supported by a foam wedge, as Wes, wearing latex gloves, moved his fingers across her lips, then spread them apart. Jess delighted in not being able to feel this, Wes soon revealing and rubbing her clitoris, and fingering her, with one, then two fingers, inside. Jess seemed like a new woman.

“I couldn't feel that.” Jess said excited, after the gyno exam. “I really couldn't feel any of it.”

“That's good.” Dr. Winnie said, proud of her serum. She had two successes.

“Can you test my feet again?” Jess confidently asked. “And ask me to wiggle my toes.” She sort of ordered.

“Of course.” Dr. Winnie and Wes liked this and Wes then got the pin again and poked the bottom of her feet, actually drawing a little spot of blood. Jess smiled wide as he swabbed it away with a square of gauze. “I couldn't feel that.” She just simply said.

“Good again, now can you try and wiggle your toes for me?” He asked as requested. Jess tried, but her toes did nothing her brain told them to do. She tried harder, but nothing and continued to smile. Dr. Winnie was also secretly trying to wiggle her toes, knowing they weren't doing so, inside her pumps, either.

“Good, now can you feel this now? Any feeling here?” He asked, continuing the exam redux, lifting her legs one by one, testing the back of her upper thighs.

“I'm really paralyzed!” She suddenly said again. Dr. Winnie then wheeled closer to Jess and held her hand, both let out tears of joy.

“Do you want to get dressed?” Dr. Winnie asked, ending Wes' extended exam, jumping ahead a little too far.

“Yes, but I might need help.”

“In a little bit, but first you'll need this.” Wes interrupted, soon holding a diaper. “We don't won't you having any messy accidents like the doc over here had.”

“I almost forgot again!” Dr. Winnie squealed. “I was so excited about my new-found paralysis, I forgot to put on a diaper and peed myself while wheeling around celebrating!” Dr. Winnie added, giggling, Jess joining her, like two schoolgirls.

“Oh my, I don't want to mess the clinic up.” She said, calling Dr. Winnie's place a clinic. Dr. Winnie liked this.

“The diaper is only for now, but once we hire a nurse, she can insert a catheter and then teach you how to insert it yourself. I just don't feel confident enough, don't wanna give a UTI or anything.”

“Okay, a diaper is fine. I wear them, or wore them,” Jess corrected herself, smiling at the fact that she had to correct the tense, “when I would pretend. I even used them.” She added, looking down, a bit ashamed.

“Me too.” Dr. Winnie added, wanting Jess to know she wasn't alone. Wes didn't understand all this entirely, as a devotee only, but liked hearing about it, liking this aspect of his fetish, also liking pretenders, not just real para's.

“Anyway, she'll also teach you a bowel routine too, so you won't need use the diaper most of the time, but until then, you'll definitely have accidents, and I'll be your nurse and will clean you, if that's Okay?” But he knew the answer and she confirmed it by mumbling “yes”, more focused on watching as he diapered her, as she had only ever diapered herself, the caster friend of hers, the one that 'gave' her the chair, not liking them. “Don't worry, we'll make sure the nurse is nice.” He assured her.

“You're nice.” She said.

“Thanks, that's sweet.” He said, thinking that if she only knew. “I like the idea of taking care of you.” Dr. Winnie rolled her eyes, unseen, but then smiled slightly.

Finally, after being helped into her clothes, Jess was finally in her new wheelchair, and immediately started to experience real para life for the first time. “Can I have a beer or something?”

“Sure, I take it you want to christen that diaper as soon as possible huh?” Wes asked boldly, but felt comfortable doing so at that point.

“Yes, I can't wait to pee myself while wheeling around paralyzed. I just can't believe it!”

“I can't get over your transformation. You are not the shy girl I met just days ago.” Wes said, then retrieved a six pack from the kitchen, thinking she might want more than one. “I'll be watching, just ask if you need any help.” Wes said, after Jess gulped down half the first beer, then continued her wheeling, maneuvering around all the furniture like it was an obstacle course.

Soon, she had finished two beers as Wes and Dr. Winnie nursed their one, Wes more intent on watching Jess. The beer had given her fewer inhibitions, and she touched her own body, lifting her legs up to cross them, to manipulate her dead feet. She lifted a foot as far as it would turn inward, then let go and watched it flop back into place. Jess was unable to control it, physics taking over. She then lifted her nightie, which she brought and was wearing, having struggled to put it on, having to shift her weight back and forth to get it under her cute ass. She then touched her revealed diaper. She seemed, to Wes, to love the crinkling sound it made and the way it felt on her hand, which rubbed her crotch. Dr. Winnie understood perfectly. Next, she felt her exposed stomach, stopping when she could feel it again. “Perfect.” She simply said.

“That's nice to hear.” Dr. Winnie said, a bit turned on, hearing a stream filling the diaper, her nightie still up a bit, exposing it's expansion. “Look.” she said, watching it, and when the stream ended, she fixed her nightie, covering it.

“Guess my work isn't done, those beers sure worked.” Wes said, looking forward to changing her wet diaper, but Jess seemed to want to wheel while wet for awhile. Wes then left the room, leaving Dr. Winnie and Jess alone. Jess, however, still had a bit of shyness left in her, and both were quiet for awhile, sitting in their chairs, in front of one another, just smiling, delighting in both their new conditions.

“Okay, I have something more for you.” Wes said, returning to the room, in front of Jess, holding something behind his back. He then showed her a small, for her petite frame, TLSO brace. “Sorry, I had this hidden as a surprise. I thought I'd give it to you as a gift, you know, to make the 'injury' seem more real. I know you like back braces, and I found this one on eBay. It should be about your size.”

“Great idea! Oh, I love it so much! I could never afford one.”

“Yes, nicely done Wes.” Dr. Winnie said, surprised at his thoughtfulness and charity, but then thinking that it was because he liked her more than just as a client. She didn't mind, and smiled, happy for Wes. This was not an ordinary clinic after all.

“When we have the time, we could do a cast.” Wes then added.

“I'd like that. I do love casts too.” Jess responded. She then scooted her body to the front of her chair and in the next motion took off her nightie. It was fun for Dr. Winnie and Wes to watch the new para adjusting her new body unlike she'd ever had to do while pretending. As Dr. Winnie had found out, pretending wasn't anything like the real thing.

Jess struggled, but reveled in it, smiling the entire time, poising her lifeless legs out of their footrest onto the floor, using her arms to move her useless lower body forward. She then adjusted her hips, by shifting her weight in her chair, so that she could take off the nightie. Wes then helped put her in the back brace, which was a bit too small, fitting her more like a corset. Jess had to suck in some, then Jess wanted to wheel in the brace minus the nightie, only it and her diaper as clothing.

“Wait, wanna go out for a bit?” Wes asked, also looking at Winnie to see if she was up to it. She was.

Jess was finally a real para, completely paralyzed from the waist down, courtesy of 'The Clinic', and followed by Wes, Jess back in her flowery dress, the brace taken off and put back on over it, so Jess could show the world she was badly broken, both ladies then wheeled outside happy, Wes following. They were both quite the sight, with many people staring at them, Jess, the newbie, still braced, Dr. Winnie, the apparent veteran to the layperson, 'the mentor' perhaps, her legs thin enough that even a pro could have been fooled, thinking she was 'injured' for longer than she was.

Jess then suddenly suggested they go to the mall. It wasn't far and Wes and Dr. Winnie, just Winnie to Jess at that point, agreed. Winnie was buzzed with excitement too. At the mall, they wheeled across every inch they could, Jess tiring a bit, not used to wheeling as much as Winnie, who had gained the upper body strength by pretending for most of her young life. Wes even treated both ladies to a new pair of shoes, cute sandals for Winnie, but Jess insisted on a harder pair to try on, a pair of Converse All Stars for the quirky pixie. Wes insisted on being the shoe salesman, but Winnie insisted on Jess putting them on herself, saying, “She needs to learn.” Jess liked this and struggled, again, pretending much easier and almost nothing like the real experience.

The shoe salesman, seeing her back brace, nodded, happy he was off the hook, nervous about dealing with a 'cripple'. But he quite enjoyed watching Jess struggle, her previous pretending not quite preparing for how difficult it was, both Wes and Winnie amused by this. Wes noticed the salesman watching had a bulge in his khakis and smiled.

Winnie would later wish she'd picked a pair of knee high boots for herself so she had to struggle. “The sandals were too easy. I felt like a wuss. Jess might always be my favorite client, no matter what.”

Year 1: Trials & Tribulations: Chapter 1: Heal Thyself

Late Christmas Eve, a twenty-six year old, and early medical school grad, Dr. Winnie, wearing glasses and a new lab coat, a gift to herself, though she didn't really celebrate the religious holiday, along with her devotee assistant, engineer, and former fellow undergrad student Wes, finally made the announcement.

“I finally have it Wes. It's ready.” She announced, holding up a vile with clear substance in it.

“You've had it for days Win.” Wes yawned, admiring, but also frustrated with her perfectionism.

“I'm test subject zero Wes, so it's pretty important that I make sure everything is perfect.” She reminded him.

“Of course, I'm just tired.” Wes yawned again.

“I'm wired.”

Wes was older, almost thirty-five, having been a fellow undergrad receiving his second degree, in chemistry, like Winnie, his first in mechanical engineering. Wes was brilliant in his own right, but new that Winnie was way ahead of him at her young age, and always would be. But he didn't envy young Winnie, he worshiped her, and after he caught her studying in her wheelchair one night, Winnie forgetting that he was coming over, she confessed to him her desires, and he his. They were match for the ages, happenstance, serendipity, or fate, at its best, the wannabe and devotee finding each other, and at the perfect time.

Wes was of average height, just under six feet, and average build, with a little bit of a belly most of the time, but he had a confidence about him that Winnie admired. He was also a very dedicated devotee, and jumped at the chance, once confessed, to join Winnie in her quest,

Well, If this works Win, you can sell it to wannabes the world over, for a premium.” Wes said, excited suddenly, a new cup of coffee in his hand. As Winnie was ready to be her true self, Wes was ready to be rich.

“Yes,” Winnie responded, looking at Wes, disapprovingly of his blatant greed, “though there will be some pro bono cases as well.”

“Of course.” Wes reluctantly agreed.

She was confident, very confident, that it would work, and in exactly a week, Dr. Winnie wanting to wait for the new year, acting as the first guinea pig, not wanting some poor wannabe to be maimed or worse – to not get their dream. She was cute, with long brown curly hair, and light brown eyes. She was often described as 'adorable', or with her glasses on, 'adorkable', two words, especially the latter, that annoyed her to no end. Dr. Winnie wanted to be sultry, sexy, but had no choice but to accept, as a scientist, the actual truth.

The week after Christmas slowly passed, but New Year's Day finally arrived, Wes staying sober for the first time in his adult life, wanting to be fresh for the big day, and when it was time, Dr. Winnie nervously and quickly removed the lab coat off her already skinny 5'6” frame, then slipped out of her 'adorable' navy sleeveless flare dress. Wes watched as she undressed, trying to remain professional as she finally stood there in only set of white cotton bra and panties, soon taking those off too. She was thin and fairly small chested, a 32B, though a smalls B, with puffy nipples, and she was all natural. Wes preferred busty and shaved, but took note of her 'cute little ass' and already nice thin legs. Future muscle atrophy wouldn't make much visible difference, he thought.

But whether or not it would show very much, Dr. Winnie couldn't wait until her legs wasted away into sticks, and she had gathered enough evidence about wannabes, via a secret message forum for those with BIID, that told her this was also true for most of her kind.

It was a usual cold New Year's Day, her nipples hard, either from the chill in the air, her excitement, or both, and Winnie hoped this was going to be her best year ever as she sat on the massage table. She then lay face down on her stomach, and Wes got to work, both having meticulously planned her 'injury' months in advance, in anticipation of her inevitable success with the serum. Wes soon felt down her bare back, down her spine until he reached the right spot, though she stopped him to be sure. “There, T10,” she said confidently, having wanted this since she was six years old.

He then prepared the syringe, sticking the needle in a small bottle, then pulling up the plunger to fill it with exactly the right amount of serum. The syringe was ready. “Okay, it's time.” He announced, the long needle, like one used for a spinal tap, though modified, then pierced her flesh. Her face scrunched in pain as it entered her, and soon, his thumb pushed the plunger down, and the liquid entered her body. Winnie then waited, as if her masseur were late for her massage, nothing happening immediately. She wiggled her, and Wes loved watching this, waiting for them to stop, and soon, her legs slowly started to tingle, go numb, her toes soon wiggling no more.

Her lower body was dead, and it was time for Wes to test her. He started with her right wrist and forearm, knowing that if she couldn't feel this, something had gone terribly wrong, as only someone with a C7 or higher injury wouldn't be able to feel. She did and he moved all the way down to her right foot, using a combo of his fingers as a light touch and a pin, poking her skin to test more deep feeling, doing so at S1. Now if she felt this, the procedure had also gone terribly wrong, just the other way, as anyone with an injury above S2 shouldn't be able to feel it. She didn't, so it was going as planned so far. He then continued up her foot, as she still lay on her stomach. She felt nothing here, as she surely would have reacted, her feet very ticklish. He then continued up over her heel and across her Achilles going all the way to just below her right buttocks, on her upper right thigh. “Now, again, anything?” He asked, wanting to hear “no”. This meant no feeling at S2. She felt nothing.

Next, he took at little advantage, not remaining quite as professional as he should have. She couldn't see him, and he gambled on her not feeling him as he moved his fingers across her tight, exposed cheeks. Though not busty, her tight buttocks, in his opinion, made up for it. “I'm testing your butt cheeks now.” he said, embarrassed at what he just said.

“That the technical term?” She asked dryly.

“Sorry, buttocks, and I'm guessing you can't feel this either?” He asked, suspiciously.

“No, and I'm guessing you aren't feeling my ass more than you should.” She hoped, not really thinking he would. But he was, massaging her cheeks, then spreading them apart and rubbing a finger over, then around her anus. "Can you feel that?" He asked, hoping for another "no". He got it and was relieve, getting away with his naughty behavior.

Now it was time to turn her over, and she managed to lift her upper body like doing a push up, easier with no actually pain from an injury, and Wes did the rest, helping her turn over, getting to hold her nude body. Once turned over, he started back at the top, on her right shoulder (C5), knowing she would feel it, but having to start somewhere, having memorized the spots, not wanting to mess up. He continued down her arm and tested her right wrist, then moved to her left forearm and wrist, and she had normal feeling once again, as expected. But it was time to rest what mattered, both suddenly knowing anything above the thoracic area would be felt.

He then ran his fingers, starting at her upper chest, down to her breasts, testing at T4. She could feel the touch of his fingers going across her perky breasts. It was cold in the room and her nipples her hard and Wes made sure he touched them too, making sure it was seen as legit. “Can you feel your nipples?” He asked, his voice almost breaking. She then swallowed before answering a simple “yes”. Next, he continued, his fingers testing below the same, right breast, testing T6, her feeling this too, the goal being his next test. If she didn't feel this, the procedure was a complete success.

Wes headed straight or it, her belly button, sticking a finger inside. “Okay, let's see if this truly worked a hundred percent. Can you feel that?”

“NO.” She said, excited, knowing what this meant. Wes then continued to her right waist, then down to her lower right abdomen, nothing. The rest was just icing for Wes, wanting to continue, Winnie wanting him to as well, wanting to see his fingers feel the rest of her body, the rest she couldn't feel. He then ran his fingers, flattening out his hands a bit to feel more, down where her pubic hair would have been, she felt nothing again, but he did, suddenly erect, hoping she wouldn't notice. He skipped past her vagina, Winnie having not mentioned a gyno test at all, but she spoke up. “Have you tested me down there yet, my pubic area?” This gave Wes a reason to smile, and soon his fingers were moving her lips apart, asking the question, with “no” the answer every time, his fingers rubbing her clitoris and feeling inside. He then moved onto the top of her thighs, then down to her knees and shins, and finally, to the top of her feet, with the same results as the bottoms, when she was on her stomach.

“Well, just the results I wanted.” She reported, not giving Wes a chance to give the report, but doing so unable to hide the big smile on her face. “Now, my wheelchair, I can't wait any longer.”

Wes brought her new midnight blue Colours Zephyr. She had bought it for this purpose only, having him put it together, then keep it away from her. She didn't want to pretend in it, only wanting to use it as a para. And it was finally time to break it in, but not yet. “Wait, carry me to my bedroom, put me in my bed. I want to transfer from my bed to my chair. Oh my goodness, my chair.” she finished, the fact that she was a para finally, about to use her new wheelchair, actually needing it, was suddenly hitting her. “But I wish I could have faked an injury, had the hospital experience, back brace... I should stop complaining huh?” She asked, suddenly stopping herself from rambling.

Wes nodded.“Yes, be satisfied for once you crazy perfectionist person.” Wes said, making Dr. Winnie smile as she was carried in his arms to her bedroom. She had a bed that was high, a nice bed, but she had traded it in for one closer to the floor, easier for transferring, keeping her mattress though. He lay her on the new bed and she moved her half useless body to her pillow, having Wes move her covers down, her manipulating her legs to allow him to pull the covers down so she could wake up. He gathered her, getting a pair of sweat pants and a tank top, already laid out and helped her in them. She didn't want to think about dressing at the moment, just wanting to get on with it.

She then closed her eyes, having pulled the covers over her, as if she were sleeping, wanting to “wake up”, move her body to the edge of the bed and transfer to her new chair, like a new beginning. She pulled the covers off of herself, struggling to move her limp legs and her disabled 110lb body to the edge of the bed, and though she was anything but heavy, her lower body not cooperating had made it difficult nonetheless. Finally, she was transferring herself to her new chair, the brand new cushion letting out air as her toned, but most likely soon to be not toned, ass sat in it.

In her wheelchair, she wheeled around like she always had done when she would pretend as a kid, but she didn't have to worry about cheating any longer, moving her legs, and especially getting caught. She could make no mistakes when transferring either, because she couldn't correct herself out of instinct. this was what she wanted. There was no more pretending anymore; she was truly disabled.

Too excited to notice, she kept wheeling around, until Wes noticed her sweat pants getting wetter and wetter. “Shit!” Wes suddenly said, startling Winnie, making her stop and spin her chair around like a pro. “In all that preparation, we forgot the diaper!” Wes continued, pointing down at her lap and the wet spot on the hardwood floor.

“Oh shoot, accidents are part of being a para, so I guess I better go clean myself up and put myself in a diaper.” She said, not asking him to be her caretaker. He frowned a little, wanting this job, but knowing, from her plans, that she wanted a real nurse to be hired.

“Can I?” Wes sheepishly asked, swallowing his pride, in almost a begging tone.

“Sure, be my nurse for the night.” Wes smiled, relieved, then elated. “But just for tonight. I'm hiring a female nurse tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

She continued her wheeling, as he followed her back into the bedroom then into the bathroom, which already had the amenities a disabled girl would need, including a transfer bench, shower chair, even an area for her to transfer to in order to change, catheterize herself, eventually, etc. All this having been put in months ago, teasing her until her triumphant experiment.

After transferring to the padded bench, Wes removed her wet sweat pants, tossing them on the floor, then took wet wipes and cleaned her off, finally touching her down there, though not exactly in the way he'd fantasized, at least not the first way. He then powdered her privates next, all this giving him an erection. “Sorry.” He had to say, knowing she'd see this.

“Don't worry, I know you're a devotee, so it's expected.” She said kindly, and was soon in a new diaper, adding, “I'll learn to catheterize myself in due time, but for now, I'll just have to settle for wet diapers.”

“Settle?”

“I'm sort of teasing, I like diapers too, but I never really wet them when I pretended as a kid.”

“You didn't use them at all?” Wes asked, not realizing the answer he was about to get.

“Oh, I used them.”

“Oh...” Wes responded, knowing exactly what she meant, but not knowing how to respond further, though not judging, thinking that it was quite an advanced way to pretend, especially for a kid, knowing she started very young, having been told her history. “I know how, or at least I researched how.” He continued, finally finding words, wanting to catheterize her at some pint.

“I researched how as well, but reading about it wasn't exactly doing it.”

“True, so for now the diaper is good enough I guess.”

“Yes.” Winnie said. “I think I need to learn how first hand, from a pro. Now, I hate to do this, and thank you, but I'd like to be left alone to enjoy this.”

“Oh, off course, I'll see you tomorrow and we'll test and see if it's still working, or if you're still not working.”

She smiled. “Don't jinx it! See you tomorrow.” He then bent down to hug her, but kissed her on the cheek instead and she returned it, kissing him on his cheek, tenderly. “Thank you, seriously, I couldn't have done this without you.”

“Thanks, I mean, it's still so amazing. I doubt I'll sleep at all tonight.”

“Me either, good night.”

Later that night, she readied for bed, having to change her diaper again after evacuating her bowels, hungry, having a big meal. She tried cleaning herself thoroughly, but had a bit of trouble. She'd done this as a kid, had a lot of practice, but it was different actually not being able to move your lower body. She had realized, even so early in her new adventure, her new life, how much she had actually cheated while pretending, not even realizing it.

Once clean enough, and in a new diaper, she transferred to her chair again and was off to bed, transferring again, loving it more and more each time, watching her useless legs in front of her, dangling off the bed, then pulled up the bed and manipulated to go under the sheets.

But in bed, still too excited to sleep, as Wes predicted, Winnie decided to test herself a little more, pulling the sheets back down to reveal her diaper, only in a t-shirt other than that. She then unfastened her diaper and pulled the front down, exposing her pussy. With Wes gone, it was time, and though she had planned this, the day was so crazy she had forgotten, so used to her routine she automatically had gone to bed.

She fingered herself, lightly touching herself, then soon, fingering herself further, she took internal notes, acting the scientist again. “No vaginal feeling; no, not there, nope, not the clitoris or inside.” She said, sticking two fingers inside herself, the best she could. No anal feeling either...” she announced to herself, as she fingered her anus, lifting one of her useless legs to get to it, Wes not having the chance to test it himself, though she wouldn't have known the results from him. “I can't wait to hire a female nurse to teach me my bowel routine, though I already know how. Wes will be disappointed he won't be helping too I bet, but sorry Wes, I like the ladies.”

The next day Wes came over as planned and tested her. Everything was the same, and even six months later, she was still a para. “For now, we at least know six months is viable.” Winnie said to Wes, who was sitting at a table, with Winnie in her chair, also at the table, both with papers and a calculator.

“Yes, I think wannabes will pay top dollar for at least 6 months, then we'll up the price the longer it lasts, of course hoping it will last forever. Maybe a subscription type model. As long as it's working, you pay monthly. It stops, no more payments, or a re-up for another dose.” Wes said, excited about the money he would make.

“Yes, except for upping the price. Let's not rip of the people who are like us, Okay?”

“Fine, so a flat down payment, then monthly fee, as long as it's working, or until they pay it off?”

“Sounds good, though with some pro bono jobs.”

Wes had a sour look on his face, not liking the term pro bono. “Fine, or alternate payments.”

“Like bartering?” Winnie asked.

“Sort of, or like a photo shoot or videos shot to sell to devotees like me, and me as the photographer and director of course.”

“Sounds good, great idea. We'll create a website for devotees if enough clients agree to model, perhaps as a discount to the down payment, or for the first month free.” Winnie suggested, excited, wanting to give wannabes any break she could, while at the same time, keeping Wes satisfied as a devotee, not wanting to see his sour capitalist face. And he seemed to like this.

A few weeks later, it was time for their first client. Dr. Winnie woke up early to dress for the day, earlier than normal, though she had to wake up earlier than she did before the procedure in order to get ready in time for the day ahead. It was a chore and she loved every tedious, sometimes grueling minute of it.

And as Wes arranged everything they needed, there was a knock at the door. Dr. Winnie sped past Wes, her chair a blur, to answer the door, not giving Wes a chance to stop his arranging, though they had discussed that greeting the clients could be his job.

“Hello, please come in.” Dr. Winnie said, a big welcoming smile on her face, showing Wes, no, this was her job.

First Story - Paralyzed by Science: Prologue

Dr. Winnie, as she liked to be called, was a born genius. She quickly mastered her first chemistry set, setting her off on a path to medical school, graduating from high school and college early, and medical school soon after, like a real life Doogie Howser. Winnie liked people, and was plenty personable, but, she didn't have her sights set on treating patients. She preferred research.

The real beginning, however, started when she was six, after her Aunt Winifred, who she was named after, was in a terrible car accident, breaking her pelvis, leg, and worst of all, her back, an injury resulting in paralysis from the waist down. Young Winnie then soon became fascinated with her aunt's condition, her traction in the hospital, her cast, her spinal braces, and especially her wheelchair. Young Winnie immediately became jealous of Aunt Fred, as she called her, wanting to be in the hospital bed, wanting her leg in the cool device, the subsequent casts, the back brace, though not realizing what it really meant, the pain that came with it all. Winnie would close her eyes at night, her aunt still in the hospital, dreaming of being in her place, her leg up on two pillows, lifted up like the traction device. She would later, after Aunt Fred left the hospital, sit in her desk chair, in her room, and put her legs together. She played with each one, as if they didn't work, like her aunt's. Before sleeping, in bed, she continued to manipulate them, getting out of bed first, after her mother would tuck her in. After moving the desk chair besides the bed, she would then transfer to her bed, like she had seen her aunt do to the sofa, and would scoot her body up the bed, to her pillow, dragging her “useless” legs behind it.


Then, at twelve, just after a nice growth spurt, she was sent to her Aunt Fred's while her mother went on her second honeymoon with her father. Her aunt was physically well enough to take care of young Winnie, but what Winnie's mother didn't know, was that her sister liked a few glasses of wine with her pain meds every night. Winnie soon figured out what this meant, that she had time to herself, and that her aunt wouldn't be easily awakened. She also knew that she could never tell her mother about it. Winnie was fine, able to take care of herself, and even better, she was finally as tall as her petite, barely five foot aunt. She' was finally big enough to sit in her aunt's Quickie 2, and actually feel like she fit in it.

She first sat in it, at age six, not long after her aunt's accident, while her aunt was napping, after taking some of her “medication”. But she was too scared to wheel anywhere, and her feet dangled off the chair. It engulfed her, and didn't feel like it was hers, though it excited her nonetheless. At age eleven, however, it was perfect, and Winnie enjoyed every moment of it. She felt safe, her aunt out cold, and unlocked the brakes and wheeled around the house. Winnie was in heaven those nights, which were many, that she could play the paraplegic. She had been doing this, in one form or another, since her aunt's accident -- sitting in chairs, moving her legs with her hands, like they didn't work, manipulating each part of her little legs, turning her ankles inward to make herself look more crippled, manipulating them and letting them flop back, and practicing not using her muscles. The quick learner and dedicated, driven student that eventually would make her a doctor so young, had made her the best pretender too.

In her teen years, she still visited her favorite Aunt Fred, telling her mother that staying with her was the best experience. Her mother, and especially her father, who didn't care too much for Aunt Fred, didn't understand, but didn't protest, using this fact to have summers to themselves, sending Winnie to her aunt's every year for an entire month.

During her thirteenth year, Winnie grew five inches, and had outgrown her aunt's chair, or at least her chair height settings. That summer was her least favorite at her aunt's, the chair just too small for realism, Winnie already a stickler for realism while pretending, but the next summer, Aunt Fred revealed to Winnie her aunt's brand new chair, telling fourteen year old Winnie that she left the old one in the guest room, where Winnie stayed.

“It's okay if you take it for a spin.” Her aunt simply said, and Winnie wondered if her lush of an aunt wasn't so clueless after all.

That night, after her aunt had “fallen asleep”, Winnie still shy about her pretending, not at all liking that her aunt seemed to know about it, she adjusted the footplate, lowering it to fit her longer legs. It wasn't perfect, but believable. Winnie was back to pretending, and her summer vacation with her Aunt Fred, was again, her favorite time of the year.

The 5'8” Winnie had not inherited her mother and aunt's petite frames, but she had inherited their thin frames, which included thin legs and arms. She was a healthy a hundred and twelve pounds, only skipping meals sometimes when preoccupied by research. Even before her accident, Aunt Fred's legs were like sticks, like her mothers, and like her aunt's, making Winnie's legs were the perfect legs to pretend. She also made sure her arms were strong enough, just in case, and they were strong enough to make her good at wheeling around in her aunt's chair.

Every summer, and almost every night of the entire month, Winnie took control of her aunt's chair after her “medicine.” She then became bolder, when one night, at fifteen, she stole a diaper, put it on, wheeled in it, and finally, becoming even bolder, and peed herself as if she couldn't control it, as if she were a real paralyzed girl. She then put it in the bin with her aunt's other, though dirty, diapers after cleaning herself in the shower, her soiled privates reminding her of how serious being a paraplegic was. She only wished she could have a catheter, wanting one day to mess the diaper. “Maybe next summer.” She told herself, the night of her soiled diaper being the last night at her aunt's that summer. Her aunt didn't use it for that, she knew, having smelled it one night while her aunt was passed out, confirming this after opening the bin that night. She still wanted to be just like her favorite aunt, and knew, at the least, that she could go to these extremes, even just as a pretender.

Outside of pretending, her teen years focused on reading all about neurology, spinal injuries, and orthopedics. So, in college, she breezed through her studies, graduating Summa Cum Laude, graduating early. There was no time to waste, and she got into the best medical school, and graduated with highest honors again.



This is when another big step in her journey as a pretender and wannabe happened. She continued to visit her aunt during summers, though only for a week at a time, during college, and it was the same routine the summer after graduating. But her aunt had a surprise for her. Aunt Fred had purchased a new wheelchair, to keep up with the times, and Winnie suddenly, after congratulating her, wondered where the old one was. But Aunt Fred had also stopped drinking, she announced proudly, and was months sober, she told Winnie, who was disappointed, and happy for her favorite aunt at the same time, thinking that the previous summer had been her last to pretend without her own chair. Winnie then followed her aunt to the guest bedroom, which she thought was odd, until she saw it – Aunt Fred's old wheelchair.

“Give it charity or keep it for yourself sweetie.” Her aunt simply said, then wheeled out, leaving her niece alone with it. Winnie found this curious, her stomach fluttering again, and later that night, sitting in the chair, she wondered if Aunt Fred somehow knew.

Residency, however, wasn't as easy as studying, though she found comfort and security every night studying, and relaxing after a long day and often night, sitting in her inherited wheelchair. She also found that she quite enjoyed the care fetish aspect of being a resident, and not quite doctor. She often volunteered for the bathroom related duties, over taking blood talking with patients.

But she preferred research most of all, having known this from a young age, and that was her focus, researching better anesthesia and spinal blocks, and succeeding. Right out of med school, she was hired by a big pharma company. The success of her formulas, Winnie getting a percentage of their salves, let her “retire” early and she was happy to be out of the corporate game, and was looking forward to working for herself. She had plans, and on her own, was soon ready to perfect her formulas, despite not having the rights to do so anymore. But she knew that her new products, her hopefully new serum, wouldn't be sold on the mainstream market anyway, and she knew that she would likely not be found out. Her serum idea was different enough too, Dr. Winnie having modified her research to block the spinal cord below the injection site, paralyzing the patient, or client as she thought she preferred – and permanently.

It was brilliant, and it was soon time to test her theories, and serum, out. She was over pretending, and like so many fellow wannabes, ones that she had met on a new forum dedicated to such people, she was ready for the real thing.