To Have And To Hold

Chapter 3

M.C.C.

Normally, when I awaken, I do so gradually. Slowly displacing the cobwebs of unconsciousness and dreams with gentle rays of morning reality, my mind is more at ease when it has time to adjust to the state of awakeness. That's not what happened.

The sleep that was induced into me by the inhaling of nitrous oxide was one of the deepest, most restful sleeps I had ever known. The gas, along with my plaster coccoon, relaxed me in a manner which I'd never experienced before. Yet, when I awakened, it was as though a pail of ice water had been thrown on me, so much so that, were I not artificially paralyzed, I would have started shivering right then and there. Of course, it wasn't ice water that had pulled me from my slumber. I later learned that, when chilled to somewhere around 45 degrees, pure oxygen will bring anyone to instant awareness from the deepest of sleep. Such was the alarm that brought me around.

The lights were on in the room, and I saw a clock on one of the carts indicting 11:00 pm. If I had been put under at sunset (I remember the red and yellow light coming through the west-facing window), then I had just enjoyed four wonderful hours of sleep. Or twenty-eight. I wasn't sure which, but I was almost certain the three women looking after me wouldn't let that much time be wasted, when we all had only a week or so to play. Mrs. Davis appeared at the respirator, and, seeing I was awake, adjusted some control. The temperature of the oxygen must have been changed, for I suddenly felt warm again.

"Sorry to wake you like this, but Carol has just arrived, and we all thought you'd like to meet her." Mrs. Davis had removed her hood and mask, and the face that grinned at me didn't look like a "Mrs" at all. She looked more like a "Ms", or even that old-fashioned moniker, "Miss". "I hope you're not too modest, because Carol is going to have to sleep in here tonight. I think you'll like her." With that, Mrs. Davis left the room. A few moments later, Christy came in, beaming like a kid on Christmas morning. She was followed by Mrs. Rogers, then by a woman I assumed was Carol. Mrs. Davis brought up the rear.

Carol was about five-foot-ten, and seemed very slender and shapely. Brownish-blonde hair fell onto her shoulders and almost down to her waist. The blue dress she wore was almost western in style, with puffy shoulders and tight wrists. It stopped almost at her ankles, where one could see black patent boots with three-inch heels. She walked somewhat stiffly, but I could understand why. Jutting up from the top of her dress was a metal bar two inches wide. It ended at a metal ring that encircled her neck, disappering into her hair. On top of the intersection of the bar and the ring was a thick pad upon which her chin rested. The pad curved up on either side of her chin, effectively preventing her from turning her head. There must have been some upward pressure on the pad, for her head was held erect. I recognized the superstructure of the Milwaukee brace, and guessed at what was under her clothing. If it was uncomfortable, she didn't show it. Her smile was warm and genuine, and her eyes, as blue as the dress she was wearing, were sparkling. She took a moment to examine the situation I was in, then smiled at me. She mouthed the word "Hello", but instead of hearing her voice, I heard a strange sound, almost like she was inhaling sharply. She turned back to the other women, and the smile faded, though only slightly. I recognized willing obedience.

"Time to show you off", Mrs. Rogers said. With that, she and Mrs. Davis pulled out a chair, which Carol immediately sat down in. Producing two brushes, they started working on her hair, first pulling it into a ponytail on top of her head, then braiding it. As they did I could see the back of the neck ring, and the thick occipital pads that cradled the back of her head. While they worked, Carol sat there looking straight ahead, the pleasant little smile never leaving her face. Christy sat down on my bed, snuggling against my arm casts, watching. The two women must have been well practised, for without uttering a word between them they had Carol's hair into a braid almost three feet long within minutes. Finished, they stepped back, and Carol stood up. Moving the chair aside, they unzipped the back of her dress and let it fall to the floor. Christy gasped. I would have too, if I were able.

A normal Milwaukee brace is anchored to the patient's pelvis by means of a form-fitted girdle, usually made from plastic. Carol's wasn't. The front upright of her brace (and the two back uprights, too) were attached to a monster of a corset. Made of thick leather, and polished like a prized saddle, it started halfway between her knees and her hips, and went up to stop just above her bustline. In between were what seemed like miles of lacing in the back, with some in the front, too. The front of the stay pockets were exsposed, showing stays made of heavy steel bars. That, with the superstructure of the brace, ensured that her hips moved only a little, and above there nothing moved at all. I wondered why she walked so stiffly into the room. Now I wondered how she was able to walk at all, especially in the heeled boots, and sit and stand with such graceful fluidity. Carol had obviously worn this rig for quite some time.

Mrs. Rogers and Mrs. Davis started untying the lacing at the rear of the corset, explaining things as they did. "Carol came to our clinic four years ago, just divorced, jobless, and in pain. She has a congenital defect of her spine which causes inflamation of the nerve roots, brought on by repetative motion. We got her into a brace, which alleviated the pain, and gave her a place to stay while she got back on her feet. It didn't take long for us to find out she had interests similar to ours'. And yours, I might add." Mrs. Rogers looked squarely at me. "We combined our interests with her treatment, and the result is what you see here. Carol wears this brace twenty-three hours a day, as she has for the past three years. In addition to ridding her of the pain, the shaping qualities of the corset provide her with an added boost to her self-esteem. It seems she always thought of herself as chubby. Not any more! And, since we have been so supportive of her and her desires, Carol has reciprocated by willingly submitting to whatever Mrs. Davis and I wish to do to her." With that the lacings were removed, the rear of the neck ring was opened, and the brace was lifted off of Carol. I then understood why she had no voice.

In the front Carol's throat, just above the top edge of her sternum, a silver metal tube emerged from her windpipe. A tracheotomy tube. It allowed her to breath without the air going through either her mouth or her nose. It also rendered her without a voice, unless it were plugged. Christy saw it also, and knew what it was. Her hand tightened around my fingers. I think she approved.

"Time for you to get into bed, Carol", Mrs. Davis said. Carol removed her boots and stockings, and sat naked in the chair. Mrs. Rogers then produced a leather hood from one of the carts, and stood behind Carol, holding the hood in front of her face. I could see the inside of the hood was heavily padded around the eyes and ears, and had three plugs - two small ones at the nostrils, and one large one at the mouth. Carol obediently raised her head and opened her mouth, and Mrs. Rogers deftly fit the hood onto her head. All three plugs were quickly inserted, and the hood was pulled tight around her head. An opening in the top provided an exit for her ponytail. A tube exited the front of the hood at the mouth, and ended in a squeeze bulb with a small valve. The hood was laced on as deftly and quickly as the corset was unlaced, and though it covered her neck down to her shoulders, there was an opening in front for the trach tube. You could hear Carol's breathing becoming faster. Mrs. Davis then produced a plastic vest, looking for all the world like a woman's ski vest, complete with breast cups. This one was lined with sheepskin, and I started to wonder if they were going to apply a halo brace to Carol. The vest was tightened around her upper torso, then an occipital bar and a chin bar were attached to a Y-shaped plate on the front of the vest. I recognized the chin and occipital pieces as being from a SOMI brace. Once secured to the vest, they effectively immobilized Carol's leather-encased head and neck. I noted that the chin bar had a hole built into it in front of Carol's trach tube.

Once her head and neck were immobilized, Carol was lead to the other hospital bed and laid down on it. I saw it also had a sheepskin pad on it. Settled in place, her wrists amd ankles were secured into sheepskin-lined leather manicles, which were fastened securely to the bed. Another set were attached to her upper arms and legs, and these, too, were tied off. Carol was unable to move an inch. Mrs. Davis then reached to one of the carts, and withdrew a long tube which she attached to Carol's trach tube. The other end was connected to the respirator, and, after a few adjustments, it was pushing air into and out of Carol's lungs as regularly as mine were being exercised. Mrs. Davis then made an adjustment on one of the gas bottles next to the cart. Nitrous, no doubt. As she did that, Mrs. Rogers sprinkled what smelled like baby powder onto Carol's crotch area, and deftly fitted her with an adult diaper. That done, she picked up the bulb at the end of the tube coming from the mouth area of Carol's hood. Closing the valve, she leaned down next to Carol and said, "Because you were so good, and because you're with company tonight, only six." With that, she slowly squeezed the bulb, completely collapsing it before letting it refill with air. With each squeeze, I saw Carol's cheeks bulge against the leather of her hood. I had heard of pump-gags before, but had never seen one in use. I had heard that they could be dangerous, because if pumped up too much, they cut off a person's ability to breath. I supposed that with her trach tube, Carol didn't have that problem. After the sixth squeeze, Mrs. Rogers gently laid the bulb down next to Carol's head, then bent down and kissed her forehead. Mrs. Davis did the same, then stepped over to my side of the room.

"We were sure you would have wanted to be awake to see that." she reached down and squeezed my penis through the ace bandage and padding that helped support the catheter. There was no hiding the erection I sported. "Good. I was right. This is going to be week you'll never forget. I promise." With that she adjusted my respirator once more, and sleep found me as quickly as it had left me.