To Have And To Hold

M.C.C.

Christy and I have had an interesting relationship over the years. She tends to be the dominant one, while I have tended to be somewhat submissive. That's not to say that I roll over and do whatever she says; in fact, we frequently switch roles. It's just that I spend more time giving in to her than she does to me.

Several months ago she noticed me looking at another woman in the mall. After we got home and assumed our "roles", she started to give me hell for it, insinuating that I didn't think she was good enough. I explained that no, I had no intentions of seeing another woman, it was just that the woman in the mall was wearing a neck brace (a Philidelphia collar, to be exact). It was at that point that I explained to Chris my fascination with "recreational" orthopedics, especially neck and back immobilization. Figuring that I was "in for a penny, in for a pound", I proceeded to show her my collection of collars and braces. I explained that I would frequently wear them around the house, and on those occasions when I drove to some nearby town to explore pawn shops and thrift stores. She asked what kind of brace the woman at the mall was wearing, and I pointed out my Philly. Asking how it was applied, she placed it firmly around my neck, and announced that I could not remove it before 5 p.m. the next evening (Sunday). She also announced that we would be spending the day perusing antique stores on the west side of town. That evening I experienced sex with her as I had never before, and the next day, as she had said, we went around various antique stores with me wearing the collar, and her holding my arm as if I had been recently injured and needed the support. Fortunately we encountered no one that I knew.

In the months since then I have worn all of my collection for Christy, most of it out in public. And, after obtaining some examples properly sized for her, I have dressed Christy in a few implements and taken her out to movies, dinner, and just general moseying around. I think she likes to wear them almost as much as I do, if for nothing else the fact that I frequently nibble on her ears while she's in them.

In addition to showing Christy my personal collection of orthopedic accrutraments, I also showed her my library of mostly older medical books. I pointed out the items I had, the items I would like to get someday, and the items I figured I'd never get (I wouldn't mind 2 or 3 weeks in a halo, but the thought of 12-18 weeks in one is a bit much). Among other things I pointed out the casts, and stated how much I'd like to have one put on me, and how much I'd like to put one on her. She seemed taken aback by that one, and when she left early that evening I thought I'd taken matters too far. Much to my surprise she showed up a week later with a birthday present for me - a genuine cast saw with vacuum attachment. She said she figured it was the first thing I'd need in my quest to cast - a way to get the cast off. She then led me out to her car, and had me help unload the cases of plaster rolls, stockinette and padding she'd purchased. She allowed that I could apply the first cast on her, but that I'd better be careful, because the second one was being put on me by her, and she took payback very seriously.

I was in heaven. After placing a dropcloth on the floor, I hung a traction pully from where the dining room light was supposed to be, and set her in a chair under it. Utilizing a good deal of the cast padding she'd gotten (as well as some foam rubber I had for other projects) I placed her in a modified Risser cast. It extended from her hips to just below her lips, under her ears, and sweeping upwards in back to completely cradle her head. I used some extra foam padding under and around her chin, so that there was lots of "give" in that area, allowing her to chew food without much effort. I didn't apply much weight on the cervical traction (only four pounds), so that the cast didn't push up on her head when the weight was released. After it was finished and setup, I helped her into a pair of sweat pants, then helped her stand up and walk to the mirror to look at herself. She didn't say anything for a long time, instead moving around, sitting, getting up, turning, getting a feel for how much the cast was going to limit her motion. After about 20 minutes, she walked up to me, kissed me passionately, and asked, "So, what do you have in mind for us this weekend?" I knew then that she approved. We spent the weekend going to movies, sitting in the park, swinging on the swingset (not a good idea in a bodycast - motion sickness sets in real quick), strolling through the mall, and making passionate love like two newlyweds. When the time came to cut it off on Sunday evening, she asked if there was any way to make it so that it could be put back on. I said I'd do what I could, and the by the next weekend large Velcro straps were securely fastened to the shell.

Over the next few weeks I put casts on both of Christy's arms and one of her legs, insisting that she wear a collar also (I tend to have a single-track mind). I noticed that she very carefully watched what I did, even asking questions about the procedure. I figured she was trying to learn enough to feel confident about switching rolls. I was right.

One Friday I came home and was surprised to see Christy's car in the driveway. Normally she got off work after I did, and got over to my place much later in the evening. Having a key, she was able to let herself in. I walked in the house, calling out as I shut the door. "Lock it", I heard her say from the dining room. The tone was one she used when she assumed authority. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I trusted her. The deadbolt slid into place with an audible "thunk". "Come here", she commanded. I walked into the dining room, and my heart skipped a beat.

The dining room table was gone. In it's place, resting on top of what looked like very thick plastic sheeting, was a contraption I recognised from some of my old medical books. A casting frame. My briefcase and jacket landed on the floor. Then I saw Christy, and my jaw landed on the floor beside the briefcase. She was dressed in white surgical garb, not the "scrubs" that are so common today, but an old-time gown that dropped all the way to the floor, and was tied at the waist. Heavy, biege rubber gloves extended up to almost her elbows, pulled over the cuffs of her sleeves. A white cotton hood was pulled down onto her head, and held her long, brown hair. A white cotton surgical mask covered her face, leaving exposed only cold, green eyes.

"Remove your clothing and we can start your treatment", she said. "Just place everything on that chair." She pointed to one of the dining room chairs set against the wall. I said nothing, and proceeded to undress rapidly, but not hurridly. I had an idea of what was in store, and I was going to savor every minute of it. Stripping down to my briefs, I stood there waiting for directions. Christy pointed to them and said, "everything". The BVD's landed in the pile on the chair. "Put this on", she commanded, and handed me a large wad of stockinette. Unravelling it, I found myself staring at a body stocking made of two layers of stockinette. There were fingers in the hand sections, and even a small 'sock' for the part between my legs. I quickly slipped into it, smoothing out all the wrinkles as best I could. A long section that obviously went over my head I left rolled up ay my neck. I turned to Christy, and she pointed to the frame.

There was a canvas strap, about 10 inches wide, that ran from the head to just beyond the middle of the frame. I laid down on it, and Chris guided my legs to waiting slings at the foot of the frame. Looking at me with those green eyes, she reached under the frame, and produced a pair of leather wrist restraints, the heavy institutional type. When she held them up, I obediently raised my arms and allowed them to be locked on (we'd played with such things before, and I knew what she wanted to do with these things). My arms were then fastened to the sides of the frame. A similar pair went around my ankles, and attached to the foot of the frame. Christy then leaned over me.

"I have something in mind for you for this long weekend." (Long weekend? Oh yeah, I forgot this was a holiday weekend that I'd attached some vacation-time to - a week, to be precise.) "For the past few weeks you've had a pretty good time keeping my plastered up, and I must admit, I have really enjoyed it. So much, in fact, that I think I prefer being plastered to the other way around. However, we cannot have it one way all the time, and lately I've been feeling a bit repressed." (I knew what that meant - she was feeling the need to be dominant.) "I know how much you really want to be casted, and I know of a way to satify both of our urges, but", and here she leaned close to my face," you may not like all of the things I have in mind for you. You see, I've been doing a little research of my own at that medical bookstore down by the hospital, and I've found a few things that I think I'd like to try out on you, but as I said, you may not like them. So...." her eyes turned even colder than before ".... here's the deal. You let me, er, 'treat' you for the next seven days, after which the remaining two days I'm all yours, to do with as you please."
"And if I decide this is a little too scary?" My voice sounded somewhat tiny.
"I undo this get-up, and we never play with plaster again."

Well, fair's fair, I thought, I'd tolerated lots of stuff she'd done to me, and while some of it really didn't strike my fancy, I'd survived, and our relationship and grown stronger because of it. After so much time together, I figured I could trust her. There was just one thing I wanted to know. "Anything permanent?" I didn't want to end this weekend (week?) with a tattoo on my butt.

"No"

"Okay", I said.

The smile that was obviously under the mask caused her eyes to squint. "Excellent. Oh, and by the way, I found someone to assist me." With that the bedroom door opened, and in walked another woman, also clad in old-time surgical garb, pushing a large cart, followed by another woman similarly dressed. "What I have planned I could not do alone, and besides, it required some expertise that I did not have. I want you to meet Ms. Rogers. She is a registered nurse, and will be here to help me take care of you during your 'treatment'. The other woman is Ms. Davis. She is an anesthesiologist. I thought her skills in particular would come in handy."

With that a syringe was jabbed into my hip, and as the plunger was pushed, the room started spinning.......

I woke up a short time later (it was still light outside), to find myself still on the frame, but unable to move. Trying to say something, I found my mouth filled with something soft yet firm, and something scratching the back of my throat. Something else made my nose hurt, and crossing my eyes, I saw a pair of plastic tubes, one large, and one small, snaking away from my face. The large tube culd only be an endotrachial tube, something used to help patients breath when they cannot do it on their own. There was now one going into my mouth, down my throat, and into my windpipe. Whatever was filling my mouth was apparently there to prevent me from biting down on this tube. The second tube, I was guessing, went through my nostril, down my esophogus, and into my stomach. Feeding tube. I was going to be on a liquid diet for a while. It made sense, since I wasn't going to be able to eat via my mouth.

The stockinette had been pulled up over my head, and an area for my face had been cut out, but there was nothing else done yet. I tried to turn my head to look around, only to find that it wasn't responding. I could feel that the leather restraints had been removed, yet I could not move my arms or legs, either. About that time Christy walked into my field of view.

"How are you feeling?", she asked, gently running her gloved finger over my forehead. I raised my eyebrows in my best 'Eh, it's okay' response. I wasn't really frightened by what was going on, just a little bewildered. "I know you've been wanting to be casted for a long time, and I figured you'd want to be treated as a real patient at the same time. So, I enlisted the help of my two new friends." About this time the other two women came into view. One had red hair, with eyes greener than Christy's, the other had blond hair with blue eyes - that was all that could be seen because of the surgical garb. "Ms. Davis here", Christy said, indicating the blond," has administered a drug normally given to patients who have undergone heart surgery. The drug tends to parylize only the voluntary muscles, so that there is less stress on the heart during recovery. The only problem is", and here she fingered the endotrachial tube,"that breathing is affected. That's why we had to intubate you, and hook you up to a respirator. Also, you're going to be tube-fed during the duration of this little 'episode'. But don't worry - the paralysis is temporary, there'll be no adverse side-effects once it wears off, and you'll have at least one of us here at all times to take care of you. Oh, and the paralysis only extends to the muscles - as I'm sure you've discovered, your sense of feeling has not been affected." And with that she gently squeezed my private parts. Another one of those grins. "And now, my sweet, on with the show...."

With that a plastic mask was fitted over the two tubes, and was fitted against my face. I noticed it was thickly padded around the edges. My head was then lifted, and a disposable head halter was fitted first behind my head, the under my chin. I felt something else being fastened around my waist - a traction belt, no doubt. My suspicions were confirmed when I felt a simultanious pulling on my waist and my head. As it increased, I heard a clicking sound at both ends of the casting frame - ratchets. When it seemed as if my spine was being lifted off the canvas strap it had been resting on, the racheting stopped. Someone appeared at my head and started wrapping padding around my forehead, working down. With three sets of hands it went quickly, and before I know it I was in a thick layer of padding over the stockinette. Large pieces of felt were placed over my shoulders, behind my head, under my chin, around my ribs, and on my hips, then another layer of padding held them in place. As I was taking all this in, I heard water being wrung out of something. They were already applying the plaster! This was going very quickly. They started at my waist and worked up, quickly encompassing my neck. As they proceeded over my chin, they wrapped the plaster over the facemask! I was truly being encased in plaster. The first layer finished, wide plaster splints were then placed over my shoulders, around my hips, behind my head to my lower back, under my chin to my chest, and around my neck. A second layer of plaster rolls was used to tie all this together.

As this was being finished, I felt my legs being lifted up, and spread apart. Padding was then being wrapped around both legs, starting at the groin, and extending to my toes. Felt padding was placed at my ankle and knees, and another layer of padding held that in place. Soon the wet feeling of the plaster was on my legs, starting where the body cast stopped and working down. My hips and knees were flexed at ninety degrees, just as if I were sitting in a chair, only with my legs spread apart about forty-five degrees. It seemed as if a lot of plaster was applied there, almost as much as the rest of the cast.

Almost as soon as I thought that, they started working on my arms. My shoulders and elbows were held at ninety degrees, just like the old airplane splints that some of my medical books showed. First the padding, then the felt, then more padding, then the plaster. I noticed that both of my thumbs and all of my fingers were encased in plaster, with each digit individually wrapped in padding. They were all held in a curving position, like I was holding a baseball. One layer of plaster, some splints, and then some more plaster finished off the casts, incorporating them into the rest of the body cast. Short sections of wood poling were then attached from wrist to waist, and these covered in plaster. All the edges of the cast were finished then. There was an opening for my eyes, the tops of my toes were exposed, though there was a rigid shelf under them, the cast was likewise cut away from the back of my fingers, leaving a padded, curving shelf for them to rest upon, and, most importantly, the area around my genitals was finished and left open.

With the cast finished, the traction ropes were cut loose, and the canvas strap I had been lying on was removed. One of the women went into the bedroom, and returned with a patient hoist and a large, high-back wheelchair. The canvas sling of the hoist was placed around me, and I was lifted off the casting table, and into the pillows on the wheelchair. "I want you to see what you've gotten yourself into", said Christy, a slightly evil tone in her voice. With that, I was wheeled into the master bathroom, the one with the mirrors.

I was in a monster of a cast. I couldn't have moved an inch, even if I were able. As I said previously, only my eyes, fingers, toes and crotch were visible - the rest of me was buried somewhere inside a large, very thick plaster cast. In addition to the bars supporting my arms, another bar connected my legs just below the knees.

About this time I noticed something that the drug they had given me did not affect - and Christy noticed it too. "Time to get you to bed," she said, grinning again.