V.R. Orthos
Recreational Orthopedics Resort
Installment 3

As Stan headed towards the curb carrying out a weeks worth of garbage he mumbled to
himself "good Lord but how did I ever get into this rut? I swear it's been a millennium since I had
any time to myself."
He really wasn't paying a lot of attention to his surroundings, so when the neighbor kid
yelled and startled him back to reality, the trash was already on it's way to wherever it is trash
goes when thrown into the air in a random fashion. The bags hadn't been tied closed so trash
flew from the main openings. That and the fact that there happened to be a low tree limb directly
in the path of a swung bag...well, you get the idea.
"I gotta get a life or I'm gonna go nuts." he groaned as he flipped of the bicycle terrorist
and started picking up the mess. In the background his wife was yelling at him or at something.
He was too burned off to be paying much attention. He jammed the milk cartons, cans and
everything else vengefully into the bags cursing under his breath.
Later, he couldn't really remember why the newspaper classified ad caught his attention
but it did. It read "Have you ever had fantasies that were unfulfilled in real life? Of course you
have. Be it sensual pleasure, recreational orthopedics, adventure or anything else you can
imagine, I can help make it come true. My name is Vernon Roger Orthos and I can help you
fulfill your fantasy. How you ask? A very good question. And one that I am more than willing
to answer. Call VR Orthos and Co. at (xxx)xxx-xxxx.
"Yeah, sure, adventures, all kinds of gimmicks out there I guess." For some reason
though he tore out that ad and stuffed it in his pants pocket.
After he got the trash rearranged in a manner that met his requirements, and the trash
pickup people's, he trudged back towards the house his hands instinctively going into his pockets.
His right hand hit the newspaper ad. After reading it again he started thinking "Fantasies huh.
Sexual huh. Recreational what?"
You see Stan Dierdorf was a middle aged victim of society. He'd been on the same job
for 20 odd years and was bored to tears. Married, 3 kids all grown and gone and a mortgage.
He'd married young and his third child left the nest just after he turned 45. That was 2 years ago.
The kids were doing fine and he was happy for them. They couldn't wait to get out of the house.
As soon as each one graduated they were gone. The boys, Tom and Joe, decided the military
would be easier than living at home. Milissa decided school would be good for her and 3 years
ago, she was the middle child, she graduated from a two year community college and off she went
to places far away from home.
"Can't blame the kids for getting away." he rationalized. Doris, his wife, was not the
most patient or tolerant individual he could name. But, he did still love her. He only wished
she'd back off a little bit and let him breathe. He'd lost count of how many times he'd tried to
find out what was bothering her. Sometimes he just wanted to tie her up, toss her into the closet
and go get a beer with the boys. How long since he'd had a beer with the boys? Too long he
figured. But some things he could just not bring himself to do. Something was always nagging at
Doris. Anything from the lawn needed mowed to the lawn mower was to noisy.
He tried to remember when it started, she'd been great up until about six years ago, but he
couldn't think of what caused it.
The paper in his pocket touched his hand again. What in God's name was recreational
orthopedics. He knew what recreation was, albeit from long ago, and he knew what orthopedics
was, something to do with bones. "Yeah, those are the guys who cast broken bones and put
braces on backs and things like that. But combined?" His mind went back to high school,
football and a broken leg. He really didn't like the broken leg but loved the attention, especially
the girls, when he showed up back in school with a full leg cast. He got help from girls he didn't
even know. He remembered the regret when the cast came off and his popularity dropped back to
where it had been. "Damn, but those were good times. Wait a minute. It's been six years since
the accident that had broken Doris' back." he thought. Those times were scary. He thought he'd
lose her then. She was in a cast from her knees to her chin and wasn't allowed to move for 3
months. When the cast came off she was paralyzed. She had feeling but no motor control. She
also was wearing a brace on her back and neck between therapy sessions till the muscles
recovered some. That was firs,t then came the leg braces and wheelchairs and more therapy until
Stan thought he'd have a permanent paraplegic on his hands along with 3 kids. Whooo boy, that
would have really been fun.

Well, she recovered and life started to return to normal, almost. Occasionally she'd have
setbacks and need to wear either the leg, back or neck brace for a while, typically only a week or
two. Once, she even had to use a wheelchair again for about three months. Two years later they
finally got rid of all the braces and the wheelchair. Then she really started turning cranky. Come
to think of it, the best times in the last six years were when she was either casted or braced. She
somehow seemed more secure with that stuff on.
"No way." he thought. Could it be that she actually enjoyed wearing that stuff. Couldn't
be. That was sick. Then again, he remembered how he'd felt in the leg cast and could almost
understand it. But to wear that kind of stuff and do it just for the pleasure? How, why, it seemed
more than he could understand. Again, his high school days said to him "Hey man, this is great."
He gripped the paper and headed for the house. Doris was calling him in to see one of his
favorite shows anyway.
About halfway through the show there was an accident and the star victim was a woman
and she broke her back. It went a little fuzzy for him, like going back in time to Doris' accident.
The scene showed them putting her into the same type of cast Doris had. This was weird. He
looked over at Doris and she was literally rivited to the TV. Stan continued to watch and saw
basically what had happened to his wife, although it only took a half an hour instead of nearly a
year. The whole way through Doris was enthralled and enraptured by the show. Stan hadn't seen
her this locked onto something for years.
The show finally ended, happily of course. Stan looked at his wife and he could see the
glistening of unshed tears in her eyes. "Doris?" he called.
"Yes?" she questioned.
"That show reminded me of your accident and how close we were then, what happened?"
"I don't know." she replied. "But something, I don't know what, seemed to be mine and
then it was gone and I tried for a long time to get the feeling back but couldn't tell for sure what it
was I'd lost."
"Doris, this is going to sound crazy and it probably is, but do you suppose that you miss
the attention you received after your accident?.
"I..I don't know, maybe. But why do you think that?" she asked.
"Well, like I said this may sound crazy, but watching you watching that show, the look in
your eyes. Well, it seemed like you were living the experience again through the show and it
made you feel, well, good again at least for a short while. And I was thinking how when you'd
have the relapses and have to wear the braces or use the wheelchair again how much more
content and happy you seemed, that's all."
Well, Doris seemed on the verge of an another explosive outburst of anger, when her eyes
softened and tears just rolled out in a deluge. I was by her side in an instant and she put her face
into my shoulder and just bawled. I'd never seen her like this in all the time we'd been married. I
didn't think she could show her emotions like this. In a flash I loved her as much as ever and I
got the feeling that things were about to change.
She finally calmed down some and said "Stan, can I tell you a secret? Don't go and
lecture me, just listen till I'm done and then you can talk. OK?" I nodded and she continued
"You're right, I was reliving my accident through the movie. Yes, I think you hit the nail on the
head. I've tried for years to banish such thoughts from my head without success. Because of
this, this, craving of mine I've just about destroyed our family. Your mentioning, and I hope
understanding, will help me come to grips with this. The kids are gone, I love them dearly and
hope I haven't destroyed their, or your, love for me." She paused and wiped her eyes and nose.
"You see, Stan, the braces and wheelchair are still stored in the garage in the rafters. I just
couldn't for some reason get rid of them and I lied to you and myself and have just made a mess
of everything."
"You know, I've always wondered what those boxes were up there. I didn't remember
putting them there but just hadn't gotten around to seeing what was in them. Maybe I should go
get them down and see what's there."
"Are you trying to tell me that you don't think I'm crazy and need mental help because of
this? I'll come to." she said wiping her eyes.
Hand in hand, which hadn't happened for a while, we went to the garage. The car was
outside, so I had plenty of room to put up the ladder and get the boxes down. We hauled them all
to the kitchen and proceeded to open them up. The large box produced the wheelchair. I could
see that sparkle in her eyes again. We cleaned and set it up, then just looked at it.
"Well," I said, "have a seat."
"I...I'm not sure. I know I must be crazy but...".
"SIT!"
"Yes sir." she said in a tiny voice.
As she sat down and wriggled a little to get more comfortable the chair almost seemed to
sigh in delight.
I'm crazy, we all know that, but that's how it seemed to me.
She and the chair became almost one. I could see the tension drain from her entire frame
as she nestled into the soft leather of the seat. I could see the pleasure in her face as it seemed to
enfold and give her the security she desired.
With a sigh that was almost like an answered prayer she just seemed to melt into the chair
as she said "I feel like I've been reunited with a long lost friend, actually two." and she reached
out her hand to me.

Well, what can I say, I'm really kind of a patsy so I kissed her. I didn't need to inquire
how she felt, it was really obvious.
I still didn't understand just was happening but didn't want to break the spell that seemed
to have been cast. "Sooo," I said as I picked up another box and set it in her lap. "No reason to
move, you look quite comfortable right where you are. What have we got in this box?"
The box was taped shut and her hands were trembling so I pulled out my trusty pocket
knife and cut the tape for her. She opened it and again I saw more tension drain from her. It
reminded me of when a person is carrying a whole bunch of packages that are heavy, they are
really getting tired and someone comes along and starts removing them one by one. As the load
lightens you can see the person actually feel better as each package is removed. That was how
Doris looked.
This box contained some kind of brace. Doris told me it was a CTLSO with a SOMI. I
remembered seeing it from after the accident but had no idea what it was called and took her
word for it. To me it looked like a turtle shell held by straps with some stuff coming out the top,
kinda like antenna. She immediately rolled over to the table and cleaned it up.
"I doubt it will even fit, Stan, but, will you help me like you used to?"
What could I say or do except to help her. She leaned forward and I slipped it down over
her shoulders after removing the antenna things. A little wriggling and the two pieces fit together
like a glove. Velcro held it together. Again, more stress went out of her. Next, and I was
beginning to remember how, we placed the piece that went behind her head first and then the
piece under her chin. The straps were snapped on and again she sighed. Wish I'd figured this out
years ago, life sure would have been easier. All these years of frustration and taking it out on me
and the kids only added to it. Sometimes I wonder how I've survived this long. She was settled
into the chair and the brace and just sat there with her eyes closed breathing softly.
I just left her alone for a while and went into the living room. Several minutes later she
rolled into the room and again I saw the woman I'd married, except for the chair and braces I
mean. Years of frustration and tension had melted off her. She was content, comfortable and at
peace. Boy, was I jealous. She rolled the chair up to me, motioned me closer, took my head in
her hands and gave me a kiss that melted any doubt about having done the right thing. There was
so much love and caring and thanks in that kiss that I think I'll taste it for the rest of my life and
beyond.
She said the rest could wait and that she was drained and wanted to go to bed. She
started to get up and, I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped her, got up off of the
couch, picked her up and carried her up to the bedroom just like I did many years before. I
helped her remove the brace, get ready for bed and then on impulse asked if she'd like to sleep in
it. She just nodded. We put the brace back on and she laid back on the bed, again sighing
contentedly. I pulled the covers up over her, turned out the light and went back down stairs. It
was getting late, but tomorrow was Saturday and so I could sleep in.
Doris called from upstairs and asked if I was coming to bed. I said, "In a minute.". I
turned out the lights made sure the doors were locked and went upstairs. I undressed and climbed
into bed. Doris reached out, took my hand and said "good night". We both slept like babies.
Since Saturday started out raining, so much for mowing the lawn and all the other outside
stuff I'd been working so hard not to do anyway. Doris was still asleep when I got up, made
coffee and had some cereal and toast. I was cleaning up when I heard a yell from upstairs. A
mad dash and I was in the bedroom. Doris' eyes were wide, shocked and somewhat unfocused. I
got her attention and asked what was wrong.
"Oh, Stan." she said "for just a moment as I woke up It felt like the last six years were a
dream. I was still injured, in pain and worried about you and the kids. What would happen if I
died from this. It scared me something awful."
"It's all right." I said "You're at home, all is well and maybe getting this stuff down wasn't
such a good idea."
"No." she said "This was the best idea. It's helped me come to better grips with myself I
think. I believe you were right about my feeling safe and secure in the braces and the chair is
comfortable. But if I keep using them and the kid's come home and find out...what then. They
won't understand at all. I'm still not sure I do, but I need to keep this feeling. You do
understand don't you Stan?"
I said, "I'm not sure if I do totally but yesterday evening my wife came back, at least in
part, and I really, really want her all the way back. If that means you have to pretend to be
disabled, I can live with that. What's this?" As I'd been standing there my hand went into my
pocket and touched the piece of paper. I don't normally keep paper in my pocket and so it
startled me.
"What's wrong? "Doris asked.
"Maybe some help for us both." And I read her the ad and told her what I thought it
meant. "Well, maybe someone there would understand what's going on and could help us.
Dollars to donuts a normal doctor or even shrink would probably say we're looney tunes. She
agreed to that and also said she could call them. "Thank you, I probably couldn't do it."
So, she called and talked to someone. When she hung up the phone she said we had an
appointment in an hour. And they had asked her to wear the back and neck brace. When I asked
her why, she said it had something to do with understanding what was going on. I was scared,
she seemed calm, we went.
Margaret Orthos was a little older than we were and very composed. Both Doris and
myself were, well, insecure, unsure, scared and more than a bit confused. We were moving pretty
fast for both of us and coming to terms with Doris' new feelings were enough to stagger any one.
Margaret put us at ease, at least somewhat.
She had us fill out some questionnaires and then gave us a kind of preliminary interview
before having us go in and see Mr. Orthos.
"Well Mrs Dierdorf I must say that you do look quite at home in your brace. I see on
your questionnaire that the accident was about 6 years ago and that, at least physically, you have
fully recovered. Correct?" Mrs. Orthos asked.
Doris answered, "Yes."
"So you made some discoveries about yourself recently with the help of your husband.
You found you do like wearing the brace and using your old wheelchair? And now you would
like to know if you're "losing it" or not. Am I right?"

"Yes." Doris answered. "This doesn't seem natural or real to me on one hand but on the
other it seems perfectly natural and not aberrant at all. I mean, maybe the accident did change
something in me to where I had a means of being the center of attention then or maybe being in
the cast and then the braces gave me physical sense of security, but could it actually be that it's
the attention or is it just that I enjoy wearing the brace and being "crippled". I and my husband
are both confused. Until last night I doubt if he had ever even thought of things like this, let alone
possibly enjoying it or that I had ever even had thoughts along those lines. As I said, we are both
mightily confused and could use some help in making sense out of it all. I noticed as we came in
that you wear leg braces. Was it do to some accident, disease or are you like we are and you just
enjoy and feel better wearing them and where did you get them and why do you feel that way
and... Please stop me fast, I'm beginning to ramble."
"It's all right Doris. May I call you Doris? Thank you, wearing these braces makes me
feel more comfortable myself. No, the braces are not from an accident or disease. They are by
choice. I feel secure, comfortable and somehow happier when I'm wearing them. It was hard at
first and took a while to get used to the looks and comments from people. In general, if asked, I
say that the braces are necessary because of leg and knee problems and I am not the type to use a
wheelchair. All of which is possibly true and could be true, so it answered their questions. V.R.
and I have many friends who participate in recreational orthopedics and are as sane as can be. It
is something we enjoy doing, we don't hurt anyone by doing it and it gives us a certain
satisfaction. You see, everyone has some type of fantasy that they feel comfortable with. I will
also say that in many ways to many people, our hobby is also considered a fetish. Now, don't go
off the deep end. A fetish is an excess, be it something you do or how you feel about things.
Some people have a cleaning fetish, in other words, it will never be clean and always requires
cleaning. Some people have sexual fetishes in that they project a sexual aura around an object. In
the case of recreational orthopedics there is some sexual fetishness involved in some, but
definitely not all, cases. Why? Well, it may be that the partners themselves feel more secure in
their sexual surroundings if there is some object to blame for a dysfunction. It may also involve a
certain amount of a bondage type of need either for themselves or their partners. At the lodge
we've recently retained a psychologist who, I can't really say specializes, has a good feel and
understanding of our hobby and why we do the things we do. She says there are many reasons
why, but no clear understanding of how the need came about. For myself, it started as curiosity,
I'd always been a healthy person and so had no personal knowledge of braces or casts. But I was
curious to see what it would be like. Why? I don't honestly know, it wasn't sexually arousing or
anything like that, I just wanted to see, to feel and to know what the restraints were like. It has
only bee about 2 years since I found out. I've tried casts and other braces but I always liked the
leg braces best. They feel comfortable, almost necessary to my all around happiness. I am not
ashamed to wear them and so I do. But let's get on here, we don't have all day. I must say
though that I am impressed with you Stan to bring Doris here. I can tell that you are
uncomfortable and hope my explanations have helped you relax at least a little. We are not "out
to get you" here at V.R. Orthos. What we try to do is to provide a service to an elite group of
people by fulfilling a need that most likely cannot be satisfied anywhere else. I see that V.R. is
ready, so if you will follow me."
With that she reached for her crutches, stood up and Doris and I followed. She walked
into another office and we were introduced to Vernon Roger Orthos. A very distinguished
looking gentleman not much older than me.
"Hello Doris, Stan. I am Vernon Roger Orthos, V.R. to my friends, and I do hope we will
be friends."
"Uh oh." I said to myself, here comes the sales pitch.
"I'm sure Margaret has explained much of what is going on. I'm here to fill in any blanks,
so feel free to ask any question you like."
"Uh, well, you're wife put us at ease some by basically saying we're not ready to check
into club nut, but didn't really explain what you do. So, let's start there. What is it you do
anyway."
V.R. started, "What we do is provide a place where people like yourselves can indulge in
what you enjoy. We have a resort, The Recreational Orthopedic Resort, which is there to help
people in their search for fulfillment in this particular recreational ambition. You are not alone.
We have guests who will go for weeks in full body casts from forehead to fingers to toes to
people who just want to wear an AFO, that's an ankle foot orthosis or a brace on their ankle.
They want to wear what they want in a place where, if not fully understood, is fully acceptable
and accepted. Most of the people working at the ROR also enjoy the recreational opportunities
available. Stan, you look like a man who played sports in his younger days. Did you ever get
hurt. A broken leg? Well, didn't you enjoy the attention from your suffering. Was the attention
because of your suffering or because people are attracted to the opposite sex especially when it
appears that they are needy. The cast is attractive to people who have a "mothering instinct' or
like the looks of them. The same goes for braces or combinations of casts and braces. I know
what your thinking, casts and braces...like the looks. That's weird. Why? Society has placed a
certain acceptability for certain things. Even if you like the looks of the object and would like to
obtain and use the object, certain "taboos" are in place. These "taboos" tell us that such things
are not for enjoyment and must only be used a certain way at certain times. Garbage! As far as
I'm concerned we are a club. There are fishing clubs, chess clubs, paint ball clubs, hunting clubs
... the list is endless. How are we different? Paint ballers have their dress code. Fishing clubs
have a sort of dress code. Fencing clubs have a pretty strict dress code. Our "club" also has a
dress code. Leather and steel, fiberglass and plaster. Sounds strange? How about having a
pierced nipple? Ouch!!! Never in my lifetime on my body. I'm not into hunting and don't enjoy
killing. Yes, I'm guilty of enjoying the results of others but I'm no hypocrite. I won't tell them
that they are wrong in what they are doing, only that I am not interested in doing it. I accept the
fact that they have something they enjoy doing. They can't do it all the time and so must do it
when the opportunity arises. Some treat hunting like it's a fetish. They somehow derive a certain
level of sexual satisfaction from it. A common joke I've heard people say about the
accomplishment, be it hunting, fishing, fencing or whatever, is "It's better'n sex.". Are these
people joking or deep inside does it satisfy a need!"
I'll tell you now that that little speech of V.R.'s surely made me think. But in another way
it was frightening. I mean I see what it is he's pointing towards and it is obvious, once it's shown
to you anyway, but it opens up more doors than I'd care to look at. He calmed down a bit and
got red in the face.
"I apologize." He said. "I guess I got up on my soap box again and it appears that I may
have frightened you. Again, I deeply apologize. It's just that people like things clean and
straight forward and acceptable by most everyone. Our hobby is just not as accepted, yet. I'm
hoping that at some point it will be more acceptable because I'll bet that there a lot of "closet"
recreational orthopedics people who are just hiding out, waiting, hoping...who knows?"
"Anyway," he continued, "at the resort we cater to your requests. We are fully staffed for
just about anything. Full orthopedic facilities are available and supervised by registered, licensed
and practicing orthopedists. Whatever your needs, we can handle them. Our entire staff from
chef to facilities are all there for your needs and desires. Of course there are some things, such as
sexual arrangements or things like that, that are your department. But as far as facilities,
capabilities and your best interests, you will not find a better resort. If you will tell me your
desires we can start planning a vacation adventure of a lifetime, until your next visit."
Well, what can I say? He was good. We asked a few other questions like where it was,
was it seasonal, what else was available, was the food good...etc. He answered our questions and
made us feel at home. As I said earlier a very distinguished looking gentleman and ,I'll add, a
very disarming gentlemen. He make us fee comfortable and everything. At this point we were
interrupted by a young man and woman, apparently his wife. They were introduced as Tom and
Sue Johnson. A nice young couple who worked at the resort. V.R. asked them to give us their
opinion of the resort and they did. If I had to say one thing about these two was that they were
enthusiastic about everything. They explained how they had read the same ad as me and were just
as sceptical, but tried it anyway. These two really sold us. They were so open and honest
appearing that we went ahead and made reservations for later that summer.
We left then and went home to think about what we wanted to do while we were there.
Getting some rest was high on my list. Doris said she wanted to be in a cast again. I tried to talk
her out of it explaining the care that would be necessary and the inconvenience and... I might as
well have talked to a wall and waited for the paint to peel off. She was adamant. I gave in. Then
we really got into it. She wanted me to do something. What? This really wasn't my thing, I
needed time to get used to the idea, it was all happening too fast...back to the wall.
It wasn't that I really wasn't interested, it was just that all those "taboos" that V.R. talked
about seemed to be in the room with me, telling to stand by convention and that change was
impossible. I had been brainwashed by society and I should accept it! Like h...!!!
It wasn't till the next day I told Doris that I guess that I'd decided on a long leg cast like
the one I'd had in high school.
Tears came to her eyes and she said "I was hoping you'd do something you old stick-in-
the-mud conservative." Then she gave me a big kiss and I felt better about my decision. Now for
the waiting, I hate waiting.

Like I've said in the past this type of writing is fun and I've enjoyed the feedback from the other
stories of the ROR. So keep letting me know how you like it and I'll try to keep it going.