(F/f) teen girl helpless in medical restraints

[chuckie]

[note from Chuckie]: An early draft of this story had been posted, but it was deleted due to controversy over its appropriateness. We decided to get together virtually to do a major edit that should be suitable. To be safe, we are posting it in the "adult" section.

[note from your anonymous storyteller]: This happened to me way back in the early 1960s, in a remote small town in Europe where I grew up. We are relaxed about nudity in my culture; on any hot day you can expect to see people of all ages, genders, and body shapes, all swimming and sunbathing together completely naked. In this story there are descriptions of nudity of a girl in her early teens (me). They are not explicit and there is no sex in this story. Still, if this disturbs you please stop reading now. That said, here is my story...

I was a thirteen year old teenage girl when this happened. We were in the middle of an summer heat wave, and my parents and I were in the town park on a Sunday afternoon. We were sunbathing nude, along with dozens of other families, plus many who had come alone, adults, teens and some younger kids too. I was just lying on my back with my eyes closed enjoying the warm feeling from the sun, but I made the mistake of rolling over without opening my eyes, and I landed right on some kind of biting or stinging insect, and it got me good, in the middle of my upper chest, below my chin, almost perfectly centered between the tops of my small but growing breasts. I jumped up screaming, and it took a fair amount of comforting from my parents to calm me down. The pain didn't last too long, but then later it started itching worse and worse, and this lasted for days. I scratched until I broke the skin, and I got a nasty infection.

My parents took me to the doctor (the only doctor in our little town), and he decided I should be in the hospital until my infection got better. His home and his attached small office were next door to the hospital, so it was a very short walk for us. It was more of a small infirmary, but it was the only medical facility in our fairly remote area. It was just a single story building with some medical facilities like a small pharmacy, lab, and X-ray room at the center, and then two wings off to the two sides, one for adult patients and one for kids. Anyone school age or younger (like me) counted as a kid. The nurses ran this tiny hospital, and they worked long shifts. The doctor came through a couple of times a day to check on the patients. Hospital culture was pretty strict; visiting hours were limited, and patients, both adults and kids, were expected to follow orders from the doctor and the nurses without question.

At the hospital a young woman greeted us warmly. I was delighted to find out she would be the nurse in charge of my care. I took an instant liking to her. She brought us all to a nearby examining area. The nurse gave me a small basket to put all my clothes into. I slipped off my flip-flops and put them at the bottom of my basket, followed by my shorts, my panties, and my tank top T-shirt. It was our custom for patients to be completely nude for physical exams, and this was all very normal and comfortable. The nurse had me sit on an examining table. She asked me about my bug bite, then she asked my parents about my general health. She took my blood pressure, and she put a stethoscope on my chest and back to listen to my breathing. She also took my temperature, using an old fashioned mercury filled glass thermometer.

The nurse was definitely concerned about my bug bite. It itched, so I scratched, which made the itch worse, which made me scratch even more in a vicious cycle. It was bloody and it was infected. She said they would have to do something to get me to stop scratching. She called for the hospital pharmacist, and he came to the examining area. He looked at my bite and asked about how my itching was. I told him it was the worst itch I had ever had. He said he would try to help me, and he went back to the pharmacy to prepare some kind of cream for me to put on the bite to try to make it itch less.

At this point, my parents said their good-byes for the time being. I was doing just fine, and the nurse had made me feel very comfortable and at ease, and my parents and I were all feeling confident I would be well taken care of. They would come back for the evening visiting hour right after the evening meal. So my parents and I exchanged hugs and kisses and they headed on out.

The pharmacist soon returned with a small dark brown glass jar with some cream in it. He had me put a little bit on my finger and rub it into my bite. It felt cool, and at least it turned the itch from horrible to just pretty annoying. He closed up the jar and added it to the basket holding all my clothes, and he headed back to the pharmacy. I mentioned to the nurse how cute the pharmacist was and I was surprised at how young he was, and also at how young she was. She explained that remote areas like this one had a desperate shortage of health care professionals, especially in the summers, so the government set up emergency rules where honors students who were within a year of completing pharmacy, nursing, medical, or dental degrees could apply for permission to take on more responsibilities than normal. Both she and the pharmacist had these arrangements.

The nurse tried to get a hospital gown for me, but there were none even close to my size. There were some in the kid's wing, and she could go get me one or I could put my clothes back on for now. I told her we didn't need to make extra work, and I just picked up the basket with my clothes and my prescription cream and walked naked with her to the kid's wing. It was empty; the kids were all healthy, so the only current patients in the hospital were several very elderly adults. She decided to give me the last bed at the far end of the wing, so that noise from the adult wing wouldn't disturb my sleep. She got me a gown in my size. It was really just a thin white cotton nightshirt, and that was just fine with me. It was really hot, and air conditioning was unheard of at the time.

It was getting late in the afternoon, and the nurse suggested I get some sun on my skin. She got me a big towel, and we went to a nice little garden behind the hospital. I took off my gown, spread the towel on the lawn, and lay in the hot sun, while the nurse went to see other patients. Unfortunately, my itching flared up, and I scratched like crazy. At the start of the evening, the nurse came for me. I put my gown back on and went to my bed, and she brought my dinner.

After dinner my parents came, and the doctor and nurse joined them at my bed. I removed my gown for an exam and hung it on a wall hook. The doctor and nurse looked me over; they were really unhappy about all my new scratches. The doctor had my parents step out to talk to him, and I figured I was in big trouble. The doctor returned and to my surprise he spoke gently and said he understood how bad my itching was, and he and the nurse and my parents all wanted to help me get better. He said that they were going to have me wear some nice soft safety straps. He assured me they would be comfortable and they weren't a punishment, they were just a way to help me stop scratching so my skin would heal, and then he left to see other patients. Visiting hour was ending so my parents assured me that the nurse would take good care of me and they hugged and kissed me and left too.

The nurse gently offered to answer any questions, and I had lots of them. "How will the straps help me get better?" "They'll keep your hands away from your chest, so you won't scratch." "Will the straps hurt?" "No, they're soft and comfortable." "What are they made of?" "The parts that touch your skin are nice padded cloth. They feel very soft, like a stuffed animal. There are also some parts made of leather, but they don't touch you; they just help keep everything in the right places to be comfortable." "How long will I have to wear them?" "The doctor and I want you to try them for one full day, starting at bedtime tonight. We'll see if they help you, and then we'll talk about it again."

"Can I take them off if I really don't like them?" "They are designed so that they are hard to take off. This is important because otherwise they wouldn't be much help at stopping your scratching. And we really need to do this, so please be patient about wearing them." I thought about it; my scratching was hurting me badly, and I knew I probably didn't have a choice. The idea of straps that limited the movement of my hands sounded a little weird, but I kind of liked new experiences, even weird and scary ones, and I really liked my nurse, and I wanted to please her.

The nurse got a strange pile of straps from a closet and she dropped them on my bed. She let me examine everything; I was very curious. Some of the straps were covered in soft padding that felt nice to touch, while some were made of sturdy leather. They were all attached together. It looked a little scary, but that gave me a big thrill. First we stretched the thing out so that the biggest canvas strap ran across the full width of my bed, and it hung down the sides. The ends reached under the bed, and there were leather straps with buckles to attach it to the underside of the bed frame. She had me pull those very tight so it was smooth and taut on the bed. The nurse said we should take a bathroom break before we went further. I brushed my teeth and used the toilet, and I took a shower to clean up and cool off. After I had dried off, we went back to my bed and I put my gown back on.

The nurse had me lie down so my waist was lined up on the main strap that ran across my bed. There was a big padded strap covered in nice soft cloth. She said it was like a car safety belt and she put it around my waist. The free end of this strap had a row of slots on it, all parallel and spaced fairly closely. There was a little square metal loop on the main strap that she pushed up through one of the slots, so the belt would stay in place around me.

Next she took a leather strap that was smooth, with no holes or buckles or anything. It was attached to the main strap near the start of the row of slots. She pushed the free end up this strap through the metal loop where it poked through the slot. She told me that the leather strap was called a security strap, and it was to make sure that the loop wouldn't pop out of the slot. That was so the safety belt on my waist wouldn't come loose, so I wouldn't fall out of bed. She had made the belt on my waist just snug, but not too tight. It felt comforting, like a gentle hug, and not harsh or scary.

The nurse was very gentle with me, and I knew she wouldn't hurt me, but I had a guess of what was coming, and I was really nervous, in a weird, giggly sort of way. The nurse took my left wrist, and she put it by my left side, on a small strap that was attached to the main strap. This strap was short, and it had was covered in really soft padding that felt nice. It had the same kind of small square metal loop at one end, and a row of slots at the other end. She made it snug around my wrist, and she pushed the loop though the slot that it lined up with. She checked it with her finger, and it was snug against my wrist but not squeezing it. It had a leather security strap too.

She let me reach over with my right hand, and slide the security strap into place through the loop myself. She tucked the end of the security strap under another little cloth loop so it wouldn't flop around. The nurse came around to the other side of my bed, and she put my right wrist into the other soft, padded strap, and she did it up with the slot and the metal loop and the leather security strap. The straps on my wrists were attached to the main straps with short straps that let me change the angle of my hands or move them an inch or two, but I couldn't raise them up, not even to my waist, so I certainly wouldn't be scratching my chest as long as I was wearing them.

The nurse told me that to make it into a fun game, there was a challenge for any kid who needed to wear the safety straps. The prize was a big ice cream treat for dessert tomorrow, and there were three requirements to win it. The first was to not scratch at all. The second was to be a good patient and not make a fuss during the night. It would be OK to call for her for a good reason, like if I needed to use the toilet, but no yelling or arguing about wearing them. The third was to not take the straps off until the doctor said it was time for them to come off. I told her I was sure I could win the challenge, and I would be looking forward to my ice cream tomorrow.

She asked me to take a minute and get used to the way it felt to wear the straps. Of course I couldn't move my hands much, but I was comfortable enough, and I was fine. She said she was really proud of me for being such a good patient. She said I might find wearing the safety straps a tiny bit frustrating, but they wouldn't hurt me, and I would be completely safe. She said they would really help me to stop scratching my chest so much; that way I would be able to get better and go home from the hospital. I certainly wanted to get better. She asked me if I wanted her to stay with me a little longer while I got used to the feel of wearing them. I told her that I knew she was very busy with the other patients, and I would be just fine by myself. She encouraged me to go to sleep, and she said she would come back later and check on me, but she wouldn't wake me up if I was sleeping.

I wanted to explore this new experience by myself, with nobody watching. I had gotten one of my scary but excited thrills when my nurse said that the straps were designed to be hard to take off. I wondered just how hard. The rule against taking them off intrigued me; if that wasn't a possibility then why was there even a rule? Once the nurse was safely down the corridor, I thought about ways to get the straps undone. I knew all three straps holding me in place wouldn't come loose without first sliding out their leather security straps.

The big problem was that with both my wrists stuck in the padded cuffs, and the security straps way up on my wrists, there was no way that I could reach them. And the one for my waist belt was even further from my fingers. I tried reaching my hands toward each other, but they were pinned down near my sides; I couldn't reach either hand across my front to release the other hand. I tried wiggling my wrists around in different ways, to see if the security straps might slip a little bit. They didn't move at all.

I considered using my teeth on the security straps, but the waist belt kept me from sliding down the bed, so I couldn't get my mouth anywhere near the straps. I tried scrunching up my hands just as small and as tight as I could to see if I could slip out, but the straps were way too snug around my wrists for that. I struggled with all my might to see I sheer brute force would break me free. They were much too strong for that. To make matters worse, the itching on my chest was coming back. I wanted to scratch so bad, but I absolutely couldn't move my hands.

It was sinking in just how much I had underestimated my situation. I had some vague expectation that I'd have less motion of my hands somehow, but that was about it. Now it was sinking in that I was completely immobilized and completely helpless. I couldn't scratch myself, I couldn't brush my hair out of my eyes, I couldn't get out of bed. I was completely stuck, and there was absolutely nothing I could do until somebody felt like coming to release me. I was feeling like the straps had been designed just to tease me as much as possible. They were right there in plain sight, they weren't locked, and I knew exactly how they worked. Anyone who came to my bed could easily just slide a couple of straps and let me out in seconds. At least anyone except me, the poor helpless girl who was wearing those straps. I could stare at them all I wanted, but there was absolutely no way I could get out of them without help.

Although it was very frustrating, it was also kind of a relief. I really wanted to get better, and I could tell my parents and my doctor and nurse were worried about my skin infection. I had tried so hard before to gather enough willpower to stop scratching. I could hold myself off for a few minutes, but the itching was too bad; I just couldn't control myself. Now I didn't have to fight with myself in my head. I didn't have to keep telling myself to hold off and stop scratching. It didn't matter any more what I thought. Instead of fighting with myself in my head, and losing to the urge to scratch, I could only fight with the straps, and they would win. And I was starting to figure I wouldn't be released until my bite had healed.

I'm guessing about a half hour or so had gone by. I can't be sure, since there were no clocks in sight from my bed, and I certainly was in no position to go find one. It had gotten quite dark outside. I heard the footsteps of someone approaching softly down the corridor, and my nurse appeared. She whispered to me to see if I was still awake. I whispered back. She turned on the light we and looked at each other. She was glad to see that I smiled back when she smiled. She took my hands in hers and held them both. She gave them a little squeeze and I squeezed back.

We traded questions and answers: "Have you been able to fall asleep." "Not yet." "How are you feeling?" "I'm fine, but it's frustrating that I can't use my hands." "Do you need to go to the bathroom?" "No." "Have you been scratching?" "Very funny. What do you think?" "I'm glad you haven't taken off your straps." "Do you have a lot of problems with patients taking them off?" "Once in a while, but so far it hasn't happened when I've helped put them on. Of course there always is a first. You seem like a very clever, very mischievous girl, and you have me a little worried. Have you been trying to get them off the whole time I've been gone?" "What makes you think I would do something like that?"

The nurse and I both started giggling. She told me I looked so cute in my bed, in my hospital gown and my straps. She said I might be the cutest patient she ever put into them. I told her I had the kind of giggle you get when you are doing something that is really exciting but also really scary. Like when you got on the biggest roller coaster at an amusement park, and they strapped you in and locked the safety bar. Now you're stuck and you have to just ride it to the end before they'll unlock it and let you off.

I told her I liked to play games where there was a rule that you couldn't do something, like pin the tail on the donkey, where you're not allowed to see. You can just shut your eyes, but it's way more fun when they put a great big thick dark blindfold on you so you can't cheat by peeking. Or cops and robbers; that game is the most fun if you're the robber and you get caught and the cop has real handcuffs, so once they're locked on you, you're stuck with your hands behind your back and there is no way to cheat and get out by yourself.

So I made this into a game too; the rule is that you aren't allowed to scratch. If you get caught scratching, then the penalty is that you aren't allowed to use your hands anymore, and to enforce it they put in straps so you can't. At first you think you might be able to get out of them, but you try and try and finally you realize you are so stuck. You are completely helpless, and you just have to wait until they decide to let you out. The frustration and the helplessness are what make the game exciting. I smiled at her, and I told her "I guess I'm your prisoner now. But I like being your prisoner. I might as well have fun with this game." The nurse said she loved having me as her prisoner, and she kissed me on the forehead and she hugged me and squeezed me and made me feel good. She told me I should get some sleep, and she headed back to the adult patients.

In the morning, I woke up slowly, and I found myself a bit disoriented in my strange surroundings and with the unfamiliar condition I found myself in. I went to rub my eyes but I couldn't move my hands. It slowly came back to me, where I was, and why my hands had been strapped down. A different nurse soon came to my bed. She was older and she had a little more of a stern, no-nonsense demeanor. She said she would be the morning nurse, and it would be visiting time soon, and she cranked my bed up to a sitting position.

The nurse asked me if I needed to use the toilet but I didn't. So she just left me there, propped up sitting in my bed, helpless with my hands securely strapped down, wearing only my thin little hospital gown. My parents showed up soon after that, and the older nurse and the doctor were just behind them. The pharmacist came back too. So at this point I had five people gathered around my bed. The bed was still propped up so there I was in a sitting position, with my wrists still securely in the straps.

I was getting sort of stiff and I was pretty tired of having my hands all tied up, so I turned to the nurse. "Could the straps be taken off? Just for a few minutes?" The nurse said it would be up to the doctor. The doctor said it would be OK as long as my parents were with me to make sure I didn't scratch. The nurse slipped out the security strap from my waist belt, popped the loop out of the slot, and unwrapped it from my waist. She repeated the procedure for my left wrist and for my right wrist. What I had been unable to do for myself since nightfall the previous night she had just accomplished in a few seconds.

It was time for another exam, so I got out of bed, took off my gown, and hung it back on the hook. The doctor, the nurse, and the pharmacist all looked over my bite. The doctor felt that I had made good progress at healing. I asked him if that meant we could be done with the straps. He said the plan was to start with one full day, and I had a long way to go to be fully healed. I was disappointed but I fully expected this. I would need to come up with more ways to fight the boredom.

The nurse told my dad there was an old TV set available, so Dad and the pharmacist lugged it over and put it where I could see it from my bed. The TV was a big heavy old black and white beast, but it was much better than no entertainment at all. My dad turned it on and waited for it to warm up. We only had a couple of channels, but one of them was playing some cartoons, so he tuned that one in, but he kept the volume way down while we finished our visit. I put my gown back on and sat on my bed. Someone brought breakfast for me. The doctor, nurse, and pharmacist all left, and I ate my breakfast while my parents continued the visit.

Eventually, the nurse came back and said visiting hours were ending. She asked my mom to escort me to the bathroom. Mom watched me closely so I didn't scratch. When we returned to my bed, I could see the nurse coming back. I went to the TV and turned up the volume some, while I still could. I hopped back into my bed and I centered myself as the nurse came over. The nurse made no comments and I made no protest as she securely strapped up both my hands. Then she did up the belt on my waist. Obviously she was experienced at this, it all took just a few seconds, and once again I found myself completely helpless. The nurse left, and my parents gave me kisses, along with hugs that I was unable to return, and they headed out. I turned my attention to the cartoons on TV to pass the time.

In the middle of the afternoon, the older nurse left and the young nurse came back on duty. She decided to release me from the straps and let me come with her as she did her work. She would introduce me to the adult patients as her helper and ask if they were OK with my being there. It seemed like all of them were happy to get a little more company and attention; they all greeted my presence warmly. So that was a pretty positive afternoon. The itching was bothering me, and a couple of times I started to reach up to my chest to scratch, but the nurse had eagle eyes and lightning hands, and she always stopped me before I even got in one scratch.

My parents came back during and after my evening meal. As promised, I got my big ice cream treat for dessert, since I had kept the straps on all night. Of course that was a challenge I couldn't possibly have lost, since there was no way I was getting out of those straps without help. Right after dinner, it was normal for the doctor to do an evening round to check on the patients before they went to sleep, but he was delayed dealing with a seriously sick adult patient down the other hall of the hospital. The nurse had to go help him too.

My parents were able to stay with me and make sure I didn't scratch, so I didn't have to be strapped up again. My parents were concerned about whether the whole hospital experience was hard on me, and they encouraged me to be strong, but I really wasn't doing badly with the experience. The itching was certainly the worst part, and being helpless in the straps when I was sleeping or watching TV was frustrating, but I was curious about how things worked in the hospital, and I was interested in eventually going into some kind of health sciences profession.

Finally, right around when it was time to go to sleep, the doctor, the nurse and the pharmacist all showed up and joined my parents at my bedside. I took off my gown for the exam. Like the day before, the nurse checked my temperature and took my blood pressure. The doctor listed to my chest and back with his stethoscope. All of them looked carefully at my bug bite. It was still red and angry, but not nearly as bad as when I first came to the hospital. The doctor asked how the itching was. I told him it was still pretty bad, but not as bad as it was yesterday. The pharmacist had me put on some more of the cream. The doctor said I was making good progress, but it would need more time to heal.

I guessed what that meant. "Does that mean I have to wear the straps again tonight?" The doctor answered my question with one of his. "How did you do with them last night? Were you comfortable enough?" I answered as best I could. "They weren't uncomfortable; they actually felt kind of nice. But when I figured out that I couldn't take them off by myself, no matter what I did or how hard I tried, then I felt so completely helpless. But I guess you're going to make me wear them again tonight anyhow, right?" This time I got my answer. "We all want you to heal up and get better. I know it's frustrating for you, but I know you can't control the scratching without help, and this way you can heal. So let's have you wear them again for one more night, and we can see how you are doing tomorrow."

I resigned myself to spending another night strapped up and helpless, and I flopped down on my bed, put my wrists into the open padded cuffs, and just said to nobody in particular, "OK, I'm ready." The doctor suggested I might want to put my hospital gown back on. I had forgotten I was completely naked, but I didn't particularly care either. I got up and put my gown back on, and I flopped back into the bed and offered my wrists again. The nurse came to the bedside and did me up again. She was gentle and firm at the same time, and she was certainly efficient. In less than a minute all the straps were back on me and I found myself quite helpless once again. My parents gave me the usual hugs and kisses goodnight and they headed out into the hot summer evening for the fairly short walk back home.

My second morning in the hospital was about the same as my first. I work up slowly, and once again discovered I couldn't move my hands. It wasn't long after I woke up that the older and more serious nurse came to check on me. My parents soon showed up too; they had come early so they could be with me when I ate breakfast. I was a little surprised that the nurse didn't undo the straps right away when my parents showed up. "Could you please take the straps off me now?" The nurse turned to my parents and she made sure they would watch me very closely so I didn't scratch. After they agreed to that, she slid out the security straps and released me.

I spent several days in the hospital. I got more freedom to move around during the day as long as I was with someone who could watch me, but they strapped me in every night at bedtime and didn't release me until breakfast. It was frustrating, but it was also good that my bite healed just fine once I couldn't scratch it.

I know some of this wouldn't be acceptable these days, but this was a long time ago, in a different culture with far less resources. All in all, I felt like I was treated kindly, I got good care, and I know in the end I was definitely much stronger from the experience. I learned that I could endure difficult and frustrating situations, and still get through them and come out better on the other side.

I think I've told you all the most interesting parts of my experience now, so I'll stop here. I hope you liked my story!

[LatexLover]

I remember this one. What was the other one that got deleted about? I remember I had just read it the other day but can’t jog my memory on which one it was.

[kdencorgys]

yeah I guess the last one was deleted, with the brother tickling her and her flirting with the doctor while naked lol, those parts got edited out. The story and idea is great though, I would love for there to be more stories like this! maybe one with itching powder or something, the medial restraint setting + itching is fun