Indulgence by Tony Thorne MBE (books to read for self improvement .txt) 📖
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- Author: Tony Thorne MBE
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Their hostess beckoned them to follow her through the same doorway. Roger led the way and glanced at the others. He was slightly alarmed to notice that Lucy still had the same fixed grin on her face. Turning to the other two, he noticed the same thing. Strange, he thought, I don't feel any different, why are those three looking like that? Suddenly, he felt his face muscles begin to go slack. His jaw dropped, and then his face muscles abruptly tightened up into what he could only assume was the same fixed grin as the others. Without a word, the four apprehensive, eerily smiling patients followed the elderly lady along a long corridor and into a large open plan room that was filled with a row of beds on each side, mostly empty.
She stopped at the second vacant bed on the left side of the room and indicated to Lucy that this was to be hers. Then, she turned and walked further down the room to where three more vacant beds were waiting. Roger and his two companions followed her over to them and sat down in turn. Abruptly, she turned and snapped her fingers. Two large nurses appeared. The female one attended to Lucy, and the male one dealt with Roger and the others, one after the other, helping them to undress and swiftly replace their clothes with white operating gowns. Then they departed, taking the clothes with them. Madame Wyceka left, too, once she was satisfied that all four of the new patients were safely in bed. Less than a few minutes later, the four patients were sound asleep.
Roger woke up at dawn the next morning. He had to because the big female nurse from the night before was leaning over his bed and shaking him. He gave her a welcoming groan, then sat up and began rubbing his eyes. As she moved away from him and went over to the next bed, he noticed the trolley she had brought into the room with her…with a tray of more hypodermic needles on it. He realised suddenly that somehow he felt different. Slowly, the realisation came to him thathe didn't feel hungry at all. This was most unusual, but exactly as the doctor had promised.
He watched the nurse give Fred an injection, then Charlie, both of whom seemed still asleep. With a start, he realised that he must have had his injection already. Perhaps that was what had made him wake up so early. He decided that must be it, because the others sat up, too, and began rubbing their eyes. However, just as he was thinking about turning around to see how Lucy was doing, the ceiling fell in on him; or rather that was the impression he received as the new injection took effect and neatly blacked him out.
He came awake again slowly and, opening one eye, he realised that he was still in the same bed; and flat out on his back. There was what seemed to be a heavy weight on his chest. He tried to raise his head to look down at what it might be, but he couldn't tilt his head forward enough. He tried turning his head sideways, and that was more successful. He could see a drip-feed unit standing by the side of him, presumably attached to his left arm.
Focusing his eyes with dificulty, he became aware of Fred in the bed next to him. There was definitely something big on his chest, under the single clear plastic sheet that covered him. A large, round object with a curved top was strapped to his body. It was shaped like a huge bowler hat, but with a short length of pipe coming out of it. Roger tried to feel around his chest, but he couldn't move his hands. He found he couldn't move anything except his head.
There came a whimper of fright from somewhere across the room. He guessed it came from Lucy, but he couldn't see her no matter much he strained to turn his head. He suddenly became aware that Madame Wyceka was on the other side of his bed. He gazed up at her as she began to speak. "You will get used to the attachment in no time, and you will be grateful for what it has done for you. The operating procedure has been most successful, all of it; you will be able to return home in about ten days, all being well. Thereafter, you will be able to lead a normal life, with the added advantage of being able to eat as much as you like."
Roger turned his head again and regarded Fred and the lump on his chest, which looked enormous. "How … how can you expect me, us, to go around wearing that enormous thing, whatever it is, all the time?" he stuttered, weakly.
"Don't worry, that device is only temporary. It's a local sterile environment cover, sealed down to your chest area. After a few days, my husband will replace it with a new and permanent slim prosthetic unit. Meanwhile, you will stay here to recover from the operation."
Roger slowly became aware of several other things that he could now feel were attached to him. While he was trying to work out what they might be for, Nurse Olga appeared, together with another trolley full of hypodermic syringes. He closed his eyes with a sigh and waited for the inevitable thrust.
Chapter Four – The Aftermath
Roger woke up at dawn the next morning. He had to because the big nurse, he remembered her name was Olga, from the night before was leaning over the bed and shaking him. He gave her a welcoming groan, then began rubbing his eyes, with his one free hand. As she moved away from him and went over to the next bed, he noticed the trolley she had brought into the room with her…with more hypodermic needles on top of it. Then he realised that he felt different somehow. Slowly, the realisation came to him…he didn't feel hungry. This was most unusual, but exactly as the doctor had promised.
His eyes wouldn't focus properly, but he thought he saw the nurse give Charlie an injection, then Fred. With a start he realised that he and Lucy could have had the injections already. Perhaps that was what had made him wake up so early. He decided that must be it, because the others now seemed to be rubbing their eyes, too.
However, before he could think about getting out of bed, assuming it was possible, the ceiling fell in on him, or that's the impression he received as the injection took effect and neatly blacked him out.
He came awake again slowly, and opening one eye he saw that he was still in the same bed, flat out on his back. There was a drip-feed gadget fitted to his left wrist and what seemed to be a heavy weight on his chest. He tried to raise his head to look down at what it might be, but he couldn't move. He tried turning his head again, and that was more successful.
Focusing his eyes carefully, he could see more of Fred and Charlie in the beds next to him. There was definitely something on their chests under the single clear plastic sheet that covered them. A large, boxlike object with a curved top was strapped to each of them. It was shaped like a bowler hat, but with a short length of pipe coming out of it. Roger tried to feel around his chest, but for some reason his free hand wouldn't move that far. He found he couldn't move anything else except his head. Then he saw Nurse Olga with her trolley again, brandishing an even larger syringe than last time. He watched her do something with it to the drip feed unit.
There came a whimper of fright from across the room. He guessed it was Lucy, but he couldn't see her, no matter how much he strained to turn his head. He was about to try to call out to her, when the ceiling fell in on him again. That's how it felt when the injection took hold and blacked him out for the second time.
The following seven days were similar. Roger kept careful count of them. A brief waking up period, the feeling of bodily contentment, and then the blackout again.
The next day, though, was different. When Roger he awoke, he could see that the thing on his chest was now lighter and smaller. The sterile environment cover had been removed, revealing a pink plastic lightweight unit firmly attached to his chest. Nurse Olga was there, but no trolley. She was soon joined by the Doctor himself, wearing his usual slightly sinister smile
"Can you all hear me?" he asked, in a loud, penetrating voice.
The four volunteers were awake and they nodded weakly; Roger and Fred even managed a shaky "Yes, Doctor."
"I have good news for you. The operations were all successful, and you will be able to leave in about eleven more days. Your travel tickets are ready, and all the necessary arrangements have been made for you to return home. This afternoon, we will begin your daily weight check, which should please you, and meanwhile, I think we can let you have your first meal since the operations. After that, Nurse Olga will show you how to dispose of the waste products from your attachments."
He snapped his fingers and the large male nurse appeared, together with another smaller one, each trailing two wheelchairs behind them.
Half-an-hour later, the four eager patients were being wheeled along a corridor and into a pleasant catering area, fitted with tables in the centre, but no chairs. A kitchen unit and serving bar were on the right hand wall, and there was a large panoramic window on the opposite side. The view was spectacular. Snowcapped mountains and valleys with conifers, with the sun shining brilliantly through them. An appetising odour was coming from a large saucepan bubbling in the kitchen. Madame Wyceka was stirring it carefully and still wearing her stern look.
As soon as their wheelchairs were up against the middle table, one on each side, the nurses served them large bowls containing what appeared to be a thick brown soup. Their hostess explained that it was goulasch, and they would enjoy it, after having nothing but drip-fed nutrients for a week. They all did enjoy it, and left nothing, but no second helpings were offered.
The Doctor, who had been watching them in silence through their meal, then announced that it was time for the demonstration.
“You will get used to your attachments in no time,“ he assured them, “And you will be grateful for what they will do for you. The operating procedures have been most successful, and you will all be able to return home in about a week. Thereafter, you will be able to lead a normal life, with the added advantage of being able to eat as much as you like. Now, it`s time to show you the waste disposal procedure.“
Nurse Olga took out a small clear plastic bag from a
She stopped at the second vacant bed on the left side of the room and indicated to Lucy that this was to be hers. Then, she turned and walked further down the room to where three more vacant beds were waiting. Roger and his two companions followed her over to them and sat down in turn. Abruptly, she turned and snapped her fingers. Two large nurses appeared. The female one attended to Lucy, and the male one dealt with Roger and the others, one after the other, helping them to undress and swiftly replace their clothes with white operating gowns. Then they departed, taking the clothes with them. Madame Wyceka left, too, once she was satisfied that all four of the new patients were safely in bed. Less than a few minutes later, the four patients were sound asleep.
Roger woke up at dawn the next morning. He had to because the big female nurse from the night before was leaning over his bed and shaking him. He gave her a welcoming groan, then sat up and began rubbing his eyes. As she moved away from him and went over to the next bed, he noticed the trolley she had brought into the room with her…with a tray of more hypodermic needles on it. He realised suddenly that somehow he felt different. Slowly, the realisation came to him thathe didn't feel hungry at all. This was most unusual, but exactly as the doctor had promised.
He watched the nurse give Fred an injection, then Charlie, both of whom seemed still asleep. With a start, he realised that he must have had his injection already. Perhaps that was what had made him wake up so early. He decided that must be it, because the others sat up, too, and began rubbing their eyes. However, just as he was thinking about turning around to see how Lucy was doing, the ceiling fell in on him; or rather that was the impression he received as the new injection took effect and neatly blacked him out.
He came awake again slowly and, opening one eye, he realised that he was still in the same bed; and flat out on his back. There was what seemed to be a heavy weight on his chest. He tried to raise his head to look down at what it might be, but he couldn't tilt his head forward enough. He tried turning his head sideways, and that was more successful. He could see a drip-feed unit standing by the side of him, presumably attached to his left arm.
Focusing his eyes with dificulty, he became aware of Fred in the bed next to him. There was definitely something big on his chest, under the single clear plastic sheet that covered him. A large, round object with a curved top was strapped to his body. It was shaped like a huge bowler hat, but with a short length of pipe coming out of it. Roger tried to feel around his chest, but he couldn't move his hands. He found he couldn't move anything except his head.
There came a whimper of fright from somewhere across the room. He guessed it came from Lucy, but he couldn't see her no matter much he strained to turn his head. He suddenly became aware that Madame Wyceka was on the other side of his bed. He gazed up at her as she began to speak. "You will get used to the attachment in no time, and you will be grateful for what it has done for you. The operating procedure has been most successful, all of it; you will be able to return home in about ten days, all being well. Thereafter, you will be able to lead a normal life, with the added advantage of being able to eat as much as you like."
Roger turned his head again and regarded Fred and the lump on his chest, which looked enormous. "How … how can you expect me, us, to go around wearing that enormous thing, whatever it is, all the time?" he stuttered, weakly.
"Don't worry, that device is only temporary. It's a local sterile environment cover, sealed down to your chest area. After a few days, my husband will replace it with a new and permanent slim prosthetic unit. Meanwhile, you will stay here to recover from the operation."
Roger slowly became aware of several other things that he could now feel were attached to him. While he was trying to work out what they might be for, Nurse Olga appeared, together with another trolley full of hypodermic syringes. He closed his eyes with a sigh and waited for the inevitable thrust.
Chapter Four – The Aftermath
Roger woke up at dawn the next morning. He had to because the big nurse, he remembered her name was Olga, from the night before was leaning over the bed and shaking him. He gave her a welcoming groan, then began rubbing his eyes, with his one free hand. As she moved away from him and went over to the next bed, he noticed the trolley she had brought into the room with her…with more hypodermic needles on top of it. Then he realised that he felt different somehow. Slowly, the realisation came to him…he didn't feel hungry. This was most unusual, but exactly as the doctor had promised.
His eyes wouldn't focus properly, but he thought he saw the nurse give Charlie an injection, then Fred. With a start he realised that he and Lucy could have had the injections already. Perhaps that was what had made him wake up so early. He decided that must be it, because the others now seemed to be rubbing their eyes, too.
However, before he could think about getting out of bed, assuming it was possible, the ceiling fell in on him, or that's the impression he received as the injection took effect and neatly blacked him out.
He came awake again slowly, and opening one eye he saw that he was still in the same bed, flat out on his back. There was a drip-feed gadget fitted to his left wrist and what seemed to be a heavy weight on his chest. He tried to raise his head to look down at what it might be, but he couldn't move. He tried turning his head again, and that was more successful.
Focusing his eyes carefully, he could see more of Fred and Charlie in the beds next to him. There was definitely something on their chests under the single clear plastic sheet that covered them. A large, boxlike object with a curved top was strapped to each of them. It was shaped like a bowler hat, but with a short length of pipe coming out of it. Roger tried to feel around his chest, but for some reason his free hand wouldn't move that far. He found he couldn't move anything else except his head. Then he saw Nurse Olga with her trolley again, brandishing an even larger syringe than last time. He watched her do something with it to the drip feed unit.
There came a whimper of fright from across the room. He guessed it was Lucy, but he couldn't see her, no matter how much he strained to turn his head. He was about to try to call out to her, when the ceiling fell in on him again. That's how it felt when the injection took hold and blacked him out for the second time.
The following seven days were similar. Roger kept careful count of them. A brief waking up period, the feeling of bodily contentment, and then the blackout again.
The next day, though, was different. When Roger he awoke, he could see that the thing on his chest was now lighter and smaller. The sterile environment cover had been removed, revealing a pink plastic lightweight unit firmly attached to his chest. Nurse Olga was there, but no trolley. She was soon joined by the Doctor himself, wearing his usual slightly sinister smile
"Can you all hear me?" he asked, in a loud, penetrating voice.
The four volunteers were awake and they nodded weakly; Roger and Fred even managed a shaky "Yes, Doctor."
"I have good news for you. The operations were all successful, and you will be able to leave in about eleven more days. Your travel tickets are ready, and all the necessary arrangements have been made for you to return home. This afternoon, we will begin your daily weight check, which should please you, and meanwhile, I think we can let you have your first meal since the operations. After that, Nurse Olga will show you how to dispose of the waste products from your attachments."
He snapped his fingers and the large male nurse appeared, together with another smaller one, each trailing two wheelchairs behind them.
Half-an-hour later, the four eager patients were being wheeled along a corridor and into a pleasant catering area, fitted with tables in the centre, but no chairs. A kitchen unit and serving bar were on the right hand wall, and there was a large panoramic window on the opposite side. The view was spectacular. Snowcapped mountains and valleys with conifers, with the sun shining brilliantly through them. An appetising odour was coming from a large saucepan bubbling in the kitchen. Madame Wyceka was stirring it carefully and still wearing her stern look.
As soon as their wheelchairs were up against the middle table, one on each side, the nurses served them large bowls containing what appeared to be a thick brown soup. Their hostess explained that it was goulasch, and they would enjoy it, after having nothing but drip-fed nutrients for a week. They all did enjoy it, and left nothing, but no second helpings were offered.
The Doctor, who had been watching them in silence through their meal, then announced that it was time for the demonstration.
“You will get used to your attachments in no time,“ he assured them, “And you will be grateful for what they will do for you. The operating procedures have been most successful, and you will all be able to return home in about a week. Thereafter, you will be able to lead a normal life, with the added advantage of being able to eat as much as you like. Now, it`s time to show you the waste disposal procedure.“
Nurse Olga took out a small clear plastic bag from a
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