Otherworld

by MCC

Chapter Four

The walk back to my room was mostly in silence. We passed Sarah again on our way in, and she shot me a smile from behind a rather large stack of coins – it seemed that she was a good player, and I decided that I would have to try and spend some time with her learning the game. (I loved playing poker. I wasn’t any good at it, but I loved playing it.) People I passed smiled and nodded their heads at me – I apparently had managed to make a good impression on the locals.

Entering my room, Lorie and Violet were there, just finishing making up my bed. They’d not only changed the sheets, but had placed large pads of sheerling sheepskin on top of them – it looked very soft and comfortable. Done with the bed-making, they turned towards me, and without so much as a word began helping me out of my clothes. I looked at a clock, and saw that it was near noon – I guess it was time. I lifted each leg in succession so they could remove my boots and pants, then again as my underwear was lowered. While they were working, I caught Lorie looking at Teresa, and Teresa responding with the slightest nod. Lorie looked down, apparently not wanting me to see the smile on her face. She then gathered my clothes and turned to place them on the dresser next to my bed.

When she turned back around, she was holding those rigid mittens again. "Hold out your hands." It wasn’t a soft request, and it wasn’t a hard demand, but was delivered somewhere in between; a firm order, I guessed. I complied without reacting, and Lorie slipped them onto my hands, and secured them around my wrists. "In bed" - delivered with the same tone. I complied in the same way. I suspected the sheepskin pads on top of the bed sheets were soft, yet I was surprised to find out just how soft they were – I couldn’t remember laying on anything so comfortable. The three nurses eased me up in the bed, getting me situated as they wanted me. I didn’t resist a bit. Once in place, Lorie stepped around the corner, and came back with another pair of sheepskin boots (they really liked sheepskin on this world. I had to admit that, so far, it had made my stay very comfortable.). These boots, however, were very rigid, had several sets of straps on each, and had a "D" ring attached to the outside. "Spread your legs apart." I complied, Lorie handed one boot to Teresa, and together they applied them to my feet. Once in place, straps were tightened, and I found my lower legs in the same predicament as my hands – encased in a rigid prison of unbelievable softness. Straps were attached to the "D" rings, and tied off to the sides of the bed, holding my legs apart. The mitts were likewise secured.

While I was being tied into bed, Violet had wandered around the corner of the room, and came back with a tray covered by a towel. She rolled it up next to the bed, and removed the towel to display what was underneath – instruments, syringes, small bowls, and some sealed packages. "The initial casting for your brace is going to take some time, and so it was suggested that you be catheterized prior to the procedure." She turned over the packages, revealing the yellow catheter and the large bag it was going to be attached to. Looking at it, I hadn’t noticed that Teresa had walked away. She was suddenly standing over my head, holding that nasal anesthesia hood. She lowered it onto my face, and secured it with a strap behind my head. I breathed the cool gasses flowing out of it, and immediately started to relax. Violet spoke again. "You will need to keep your mouth closed and breathe through your nose, otherwise we will have to place a gag in your mouth." It hit me then that the three of them had been talking about me, and my reactions to my surroundings, and had apparently been making plans together. Their efforts were rewarded, as my penis suddenly arose to the occasion. Violet looked at it, and shook her head. "I can’t catheterize it like that." She reached under the bed and produced a large, clear plastic tube. It had a hose coming out of the top, and an inner sheath of what appeared to be translucent latex. Lorie, who was now on the opposite side of the bed, reached over and smeared some lubricant on my member, followed by Violet placing the tube on it. With a loud sucking sound, it pulled itself down into place, then started pulsating. I looked at Lorie, who smiled.

"It’s a version of the device we use for harvesting from donors. It is not as efficient as the one used on you when you first got here, but it is a great deal more comfortable, from what we’ve been told." With that, she and the other two nurses placed the top frame on the bed and secured it, sandwiching me in between rigid layers of velvet softness. They then stepped back and watched.

It didn’t take long, only five or six minutes, before I exploded in an orgasm the likes of which I had seldom experienced. I found that the more I tried to move in the bed, and found that I couldn’t, the more it enhanced the experience – being restrained definitely enhanced the situation. As my bucking against the bed frame subsided, the nurses moved in. Violet removed the tube (not easily, as my member was still a little swollen, and she didn’t bother to shut off the vacuum), and Lorie produced a warm, damp washcloth to clean me with. The pneumatic syringe was taken from the tray, and I was given a shot in my hip (the muscle relaxant, no doubt). Violet then proceeded to install the catheter. I wondered if I would be sensitive, having something introduced into my urethra so soon after ejaculating, but when the lubricant was introduced, I felt the numbing sensation immediately, and relaxed. Violet slowly introduced the tube into me, and took her time sliding it in. As it reached the base of my penis, it put pressure on my prostate as it curved around and upwards into my bladder. I closed my eyes, and a groan escaped from my throat. Violet stopped, waited a second, then withdrew the catheter a couple of inches. She slowly reinserted it , again hitting that sensitive spot. Another groan. She backed the tube out again, and this time placed her finger at the base of my scrotum, feeling the catheter as it slid back inside for the third time. I obliged by groaning yet again when it hit that spot, and she reciprocated by slowly moving the tip of the tube back and forth across the area. I thought I might have another orgasm, but she stopped and finished inserting the tube. I felt the urine drain from my bladder, and felt that satisfying sensation that men feel when they’ve peed after holding it in for a very long time. I smiled, and blew Violet a kiss. She responded by kissing my abdomen about halfway between my penis and my bellybutton. The muscle relaxant then starting taking effect, and I closed my eyes in blissful slumber.

I was awakened by people removing the top frame from my bed, and the boots and mitts from my hands and feet. I thought about opening my eyes, but it just seemed to take too much energy, so I kept them closed. Teresa’s voice was then in my left ear.

"We need you to stand up if you can, so that we may put some clothes on you. Once you’re dressed, we can sit you down in the wheelchair."

It seemed reasonable, so I rolled towards that side of the bed, feeling several pairs of hands helping me along the way. I still didn’t open my eyes, but managed to stand up with a minimum of teetering. At least two people held me steady, while others lifted my legs one at a time and helped me into some pajama bottoms. Secured around my waist, I was eased down into a chair, and a shirt was slid onto first one arm, and then the other, and finally wrapped around my torso. When it was tied off (huh? No buttons?) I was eased back into the chair, which had a high, reclined back. My legs were lifted up, and settled into raised rests. I felt motion as I was wheeled out of the room. I tried to keep track of where I was without opening my eyes, and did pretty well until we were in the elevator. It started down, and I finally relented to curiosity and forced my eyelids wide. Teresa, Lorie and Violet were in the cab with me, along with two others whom I had not yet met. They looked down, and smiled at me. I noted the one with blond hair was in a Milwaukee Brace – no, correction, a Long Bar Brace. I reminded myself that I needed to learn the customs and names of this world, and so should start right now.

The elevator door opened, and I was wheeled out to the same floor I’d been on the day before. We passed the physical therapy area, and went straight to the brace shop, where I was met by the same woman I’d talked to the previous day, Marcia Sturgis. She smiled down at me.

"Are you ready to begin?"

My mouth reminded me of trips I’d been on to the dentist – it was sort of numb, and felt full of cotton. Yet, I managed to mumble a coherent reply in the affirmative, after which Marcia took control of the wheelchair, guiding back towards one of the private rooms. As I was wheeled through the shop, I noticed lots of patients there – a lot more than what was there the day before. I nodded towards a group of them. "What’s the occasion?", I mumbled.

Marcia smiled sweetly. "We’re just very busy. Trying to get caught up on a six-year backlog, in a manner of speaking. But don’t worry, we’re going to give yours top priority. You’ll have your brace in a jiffy."

What she said made a knot form in my stomach. I realized I was a VIP, but I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep well knowing that I’d caused even one day’s delay in treating any of those women. I decided to test the limits of my new powers.

"No."

Marcia slowed quickly, then leaned over me. "Excuse me?"

I licked my lips, trying to form coherent words in a brain numbed by drugs. "No. You will not give my brace priority."

Marcia seemed truly puzzled. I think maybe she thought she’d said something to offend me, or perhaps had violated some form of protocol. She looked up at Lorie and Teresa, who were equally dumbfounded, then turned back to me. "I thought you wanted this brace?"

Again I carefully considered my words before I spoke them. I knew that what next came out of my mouth could have serious ramifications concerning my visit here. I nodded towards the nearest group of patients. "They have more to lose, will suffer more if their treatment is delayed. What I want a brace for is not nearly as important as what they need a brace for - they come first. You may work on mine when you don’t have any others to work on, but under no circumstances – under no circumstances – is the construction of my brace to delay by a single minute the treatment of anybody else. And you may consider that a direct order from me." I looked straight into her eyes, feeling as if I’d probably overstepped my bounds, but I was committed to my course of action, so I followed it through. "Is that clearly understood?"

Marcia stepped back for a moment and looked at the floor. She then looked up at the other nurses and technicians there, who each slowly nodded. She then looked around the room at all the patients who’d heard the exchange – apparently my voice had carried. Many of them were nodding, some smiling, others crying. She then turned back to me.

"You have my word, that not one moment of any time will be spent in this shop putting your brace before that of anyone else who comes here seeking treatment. But, since you are here and prepped, can we at least go ahead and cast you?"

I felt somewhat stupid. I should have realized from my previous visit that they’d be extremely busy for some time to come re-fitting a great percentage of the population with appliances, and that accepting their offer of fitting me with a brace would have cut into the time they had to do it. I felt a little guilty for having already caused delays, but knew that less time would be wasted by going through with the casting now, as opposed to leaving and starting all over later on. I nodded, and Marcia again took control of the wheelchair, guiding me into the nearest room.

As we entered, I saw the middle of the room was filled with a huge stainless steel frame, attached to which were several windlasses and straps. A casting frame. I was a little perplexed, as everyone I had seen so far had been casted in a vertical, standing (or semi-standing) position. I mentioned this to Marcia.

"Yes, usually molds are made with the patient in a standing position, and we will make one of you that way, too. But, I also want to have a mold made of you in the horizontal position. When we finally start working on your brace, I want to make two of them for you – one for daytime use, and one for use at night, for those times when you don’t want to sleep in traction. I think I can engineer a sleeping brace that will help your back and neck much better than traction can."

After last night, I wasn’t sure how much better sleeping could be – I’d awoken this morning completely relaxed and with very little discomfort. However, Marcia seemed to know what she was doing, so I nodded at her, smiling as I did so. She turned to the others in the room, who went quickly to work.

I was lifted up from the wheelchair, and my pajamas deftly removed – leaving only my bare skin and a catheter plugged into a collection bag. These same hands quickly applied two layers of stockinet to my body, a fitted suit that rolled down my arms and legs, and up over my head. There was even an appendage for my penis, with the yellow catheter sticking out of the end. Once all this was in place, I was lifted up into the frame, and set down on a wide webbing strap that ran the length of the frame. A stockinet head halter and pelvic traction harness were applied, and more strips were applied to my arms and legs. Once finished, I was pretty much in the same physical position as I was in while sleeping in traction, with my arms out to the side, and my legs raised up and slightly apart. I then heard some clanking, and slowly windlasses tightened the head halter and pelvic harness, stretching my spine. They stopped, and Marcia spent considerable time walking around, looking at my position, making minute adjustments here and here, until she was satisfied. A black rubber oxygen mask was placed over my face, and a large pad over my eyes, then Marcia and her assistants immediately started wrapping me in wet plaster bandages. I wondered about the mask and the pad over my eyes, until I realized that they were encasing my head as well as every other part of my body. I lay there, as plaster, started from four different locations, ended up converging on my chest. They then worked back outwards, applying a second layer over the first. From start to finish, I doubt it took more than eight minutes to encase me in plaster.

I was grateful for the cool oxygen flowing out of the mask, as all that plaster started setting up at once. I tried to count the passing of time by counting my breaths, but gave up after two hundred. It seemed a stupid thing to do, anyway. Here I was in a predicament I’d always dreamed about, and I found myself anticipating getting out of it. No, I said to myself, I’m going to enjoy this for as long as it lasts. I cleared my mind, and tried to feel every sensation I was feeling at the moment (except for that rivulet of sweat that just trickled down between my butt cheeks – I didn’t care for that).

I’d never done meditation before, but started thinking I’d stumbled upon it, so serene and peaceful was what I felt, when my serenity was interrupted by someone tapping on the outside of the cast. They started at the foot, and worked their way up to my head. They must have decided it was sufficiently set, for almost immediately I heard – and felt – a saw cutting into it. I made a note to ask for earplugs before they did the next cast.

It took many minutes of cutting, the saw noisily vibrating the cast against my body, before the saw was shut of, and with a popping noise the top half of the cast was lifted from the bottom half. Out of the way, willing sets of hands rolled my over onto my stomach, and the bottom half was lifted from my back. One down, one to go.

The standing cast was not nearly so involved. I sat against a horizontal bar, just enough to tilt my pelvis the way Marcia wanted, and encased from my hips to the top of my head. My arms and legs were spared this time, and in short order this cast too was cut from me. As Teresa and blond nurse with the Tall Bar brace (I found out here name was Camilla) helped me back into my pajamas, I removed the plugs from my ears (they’d made a big difference. I mentioned this to Marcia, who apparently had never considered it, and she promised to start supplying them to all her patients undergoing casting), and allowed myself to be eased into the wheelchair. Between the muscle relaxants and the exertion of the casting session, I was about ready to fall asleep. Before I did, I turned to Marcia and thanked her, and reminded her of what I’d said.

"I remember, and I promise that no work will be done in this shop on your brace while there is any other work to be done." There was a tone to her voice that told me she was up to something, that I needed to consider exactly what she’d just said, but frankly I was too tired to key onto it. I remember passing lots of people while heading out the door, but was fast asleep before we got to the elevator.