Part 6 - The Face-bow
I walk over to the cabinet that I store the face-bows in and select a few sizes that I think should fit. The surface of the cabinet has a glossy finish to it and I can partially see her reflection in it. It looks to me as if her legs are slightly spread, but when I turn back, she has her knees tight to each other. The smile on her face shows me that she knows what she is doing and that she knows that I couldn't clearly see what she did.
I pull a stool up beside the chair and she gives me a smile, revealing all the metal in her mouth. The first face-bow that I try is too wide and sticks out too far from her lips. The next one is a better fit, slipping into the tubes on her molar bands with only a minor adjustment. I run my fingers over the bands on her back teeth as I give the face-bow a gentle squeeze to fit it into her molar bands, then trace my fingers along the archwire until I reach her canine teeth. They still haven't retracted and I know that she will need another dose of the virus to complete her transformation. I slip the face-bow in and out of the tubes a few times, making sure that it doesn't stick. When I am satisfied with the way that fits, I say to Sharlene, "Open and close your mouth a few times and let me know how it feels."
She closes her mouth, opens it again and does it a few more times. At first she has a slightly puzzled look on her face as she gets used to the feeling of the wire that is sticking out between her lips, then she begins to smile, keeping her lips tightly closed against the wire. This face-bow rests in line with the bottom of her upper lip when she has her mouth closed. She rubs her lower lip over the bottom of the face-bow, then her upper lip over the top. And then the pink tip of her tongue comes out and begins to run over first the top, then the bottom. The way that she is using her mouth and tongue is so child-like, especially with the way she is dressed and how she is sitting in the chair with her knees just barely together and her hands resting daintily on the hem of her skirt.
"Can I see what I look like? Do you have a mirror? It feels so weird having this in my mouth." Her child-like voice, along with the stream of questions, fits so well with the image she is presenting. She looks up at me with an innocent look and smiles so prettily, letting me see the bands on her teeth. When I hand her the mirror, she starts to move her head around, looking at her smile from different angles. It isn't very long before she reaches up with her free hand and starts to run her finger over the front of the face-bow and along the wire over her cheek towards the hook just below her ear. "Something is missing. It doesn't look quite right."
I look at her laying back in the chair, looking up at me with that innocent on her face, and then I smile in understanding. I turn around to the cabinet again and pull out another drawer. This time I make sure to watch her in the glossy surface of the door. "What color of neck-strap would you like, Sharlene? I have white like your blouse, light blue similar to your skirt and several other colours." I can see her knees parting slightly in the gloss of the door, but it is not reflective enough to see her clearly. I remove the drawer from the cabinet and turn so that I am facing her again.
From the corner of my eye I can see her knees come together again. I place the drawer of straps on the table beside the chair where she can see them and begin to lay them out.
She reaches to the collar of her blouse, slips her hand inside to her shoulder and takes the strap of her bra between her fingers. Then she pulls it so that it is exposed and asks me "Do you have a pink one that will match this colour?" The gap in the front of her blouse widens slightly, revealing just a hint of lace at the top where her bra strap and her bra cup meet. My eyes have been following her hand and they are looking exactly where she wants them to be looking, at her small, blouse covered, barely-there breasts. Even though they are covered by her blouse and bra, there are two small bumps showing through the material. "Well, do you have a strap in this colour?" she asks me again.
I look up at her face and see that innocent-looking smile again. The gleam in her eyes says that she is having fun playing with me. I look into the drawer to see if I have anything that is close to that shade. I know that I have all the typical bright colours, but down at the bottom of the drawer is a hint of pink. It is a close match to the strap that is still showing through the gap between her neck and the collar of her blouse. I remove the strap from the drawer and move my hand to her shoulder, placing it next to her bra strap. She looks into the mirror and compares the colours, then she smiles a big smile, letting all of the metal covering her teeth show along with the wires of the face-bow.
"It is an almost perfect match to my bra-strap. Will you show me how to put it on now, pleeease," she says, drawing out the last word just as a young girl might while excited.
I give her a grin, my own metal-clad teeth showing and say, "You need to sit up to do that. Let me adjust the chair for you." The chair whirs as the back of it moves up until she is sitting upright. I remove the strap from the plastic that it has been stored in and straighten it out, getting it ready to be attached to the ends of the face-bow.
As I am just about the reach out to put it around the back of her head, she swings her legs over the side of the chair, keeping her knees tight together as her skirt slides up her legs to close to the top of her thighs. Her hands are in her lap, preventing the skirt from sliding all the way to the top of her legs and keeping her crotch hidden from my gaze. Then she slides forward to the edge of the treatment chair, the back of her skirt slipping from underneath her bare butt-cheeks and giving me a glimpse of the skin on the outside of her leg and cheek, before her high-heels touch the floor with a tap-click and her skirt drops back into place and covers her again.
She just smiles at me and says, "I think it would be easier if we used the mirror on the wall, that way I won't be distracted by having to hold a mirror and can devote more attention to watching what you are doing."
I go to stand up and she says, "I want you to slide the stool over there so that I can sit on your lap while you are showing me how to put on and take off everything. I also want to practice doing it for a while just so that I know that I am doing it right." She gives me a child-like innocent look and begins walking across the floor towards the mirror, watching my reflection in the mirror.
I lay the strap over my shoulder and crab-walk the stool across the floor behind her, enjoying the view from behind of how the shoes she is wearing are affecting how her legs and feet look, and how long and slim her legs look as they disappear under her skirt. I catch up to her just as she reaches the mirror on the wall. I have also been looking at the unattached ends of the face-bow and watching as they bobbed up and down slightly as she walked across the room. Her braided pigtails with the pink ribbons at the ends are just brushing against the hooks at the ends of the face-bow and there is no hair laying against the back of her neck to get in the way of the strap.