where wheelchair users unite!

Diary of an Orthopaedic Slave XXX

I awoke feeling very woozy. Something was definitely different, definitely not the same. First of all I noticed that something was filling my mouth, and seemed to be making my throat sore. As my eyes regained their focus (as much as a nearsighted person can), I saw some tubes snaking away from the mouth. One was pale blue, about an inch in diameter, and made of transparent, corrugated plastic. Another one appeared to be made of red rubber, about half an inch in diameter. I tried moving my lower jaw around some, and was rewarded with a plastic taste. Also, as I used my jaw to shift around whatever was in my mouth, I felt it move all the way down my throat. I was surprised it didn’t make me gag or choke. And, whatever was in my mouth, a part of it was inside both my nostrils, too. I had no trouble breathing; in fact, it seemed as if air were being forced into and out of my lungs without any effort on my part. I realized then that the large blue tube was a breathing tube, and that I was hooked up to a ventilator. I also realized that speech would be impossible while the thing was in my throat.

My eyes followed the red tube upwards to a plastic bag suspended over my head on an IV stand. Okay, I was in the hospital that much was certain. The bag contained a milky white liquid that was slowly dripping into the red rubber tube. Feeding tube, I realized. The red rubber tube somehow ended up in my stomach. Made sense – it was obvious I wouldn’t be chewing on any steaks with my mouth filled up. Probably some kind of bite block, I reasoned, designed to hold the breathing and feeding tubes in place, and preventing me from accidentally pinching them off with my teeth. Mom had been a nurse, and I’d known someday that reading all her nurse’s magazines would come in handy.

I tried to raise my head, and noticed then that my chin was resting on a pad of some kind, and that pressure on the pad from my chin was being transmitted to my chest and shoulders. Efforts to raise my head revealed a pad against the back of my head, and pressure on it transferred to my shoulders and my back, down between the shoulder blades. Neck brace, my mind told me. I didn’t need to remember my mother’s long-gone magazines to know that – I had been experimenting with recreational orthopedics for some time, and had a small collection of neck orthosis. I relaxed my head, and tried to look around as best I could. I was definitely in a hospital room, as the fracture frame attached to the bed seemed to indicate. From what I could see, I was in a private room, with a television mounted on the wall and a small sink over to one side. The drapes on the window were closed.

For the life of me, I couldn’t remember coming here. In fact, I didn’t remember what might have happened to send me here. Thinking back through clouded memories, that last thing I remembered was being at Linda’s house, eating dinner – spaghetti, as I remember, because I liked it so much. We’d spent the evening love-making, cuddling, and talking about our favorite things. Yet, I could not remember anything after the dinner. Puzzled, I decided to ring the nurse, and maybe with sign language or a pencil and paper I could find out what was going on. That’s when I got my next surprise.

I could not raise my arms. Something was preventing me from raising them. Furthermore, my hands were being held flat, and my fingers separated. It didn’t hurt – on the contrary, what I felt against my skin felt like fur. It was soft and warm, yet my skin felt cool. I felt this material from my fingertips to just above my wrist. I could bend my wrists just a little, but the bulk of the material kept me from moving them more than an inch or two up or down. I also found I could lift my arms just an inch or two, and that whatever was holding my arms down seemed to be attached at the wrists. Out of curiosity, I also tried to move my feet. They were also incased in something soft, from my calves to below my toes, and were apparently tied down also. An attempt to scoot my butt to one side revealed a padded belt around my waist, preventing me from moving. It also made apparent something else. When I tried to shift my waist to one side, I felt something pull at my penis. Not from the outside, but rather, from the *inside*. Flexing that particular muscle revealed something was inside my urethra. I laid back and tried to relax, and to take stock of my situation.

Sometime after eating at Linda’s, something happened that put me in the hospital. I was intubated, attached to a ventilator, and being fed by stomach tube, and I had a catheter in me to empty my bladder. My limbs and torso were tied down with padded restraint, and I was wearing some kind of neck brace. Had I broken my neck? I didn’t seem to have any paralysis, and my neck didn’t hurt – in fact, nothing hurt, not even the tubes in my throat, or the catheter going into my bladder. It seemed to me that if those tubes didn’t hurt, they must have been in for some time, long enough for my body to get used to the irritation of them being in, long enough that even my hyper gag reflex was no longer in play. I was thoroughly puzzled. That’s when the door opened, and in walked Linda.

As she drew close enough for my eyes to focus on her, I would have gasped for breath, had I been breathing on my own. Her head was encased in a black rubber helmet with an open face. Her long, blond hair was pulled into a pony tail that cascaded down her back from the short tube at the top of the helmet. A black leather collar hid the bottom edge of the helmet, and provided a foundation for several leather straps that dropped down to connect to a black leather corset firmly laced around her waist. Emerging from the bottom of the corset was more black latex, in the form of pants which themselves disappeared into a pair of black leather, thigh-high boots. I wondered how tall the heels were, but couldn’t see that far down. A pair of shoulder-length, black latex gloves completed her ensemble. She walked over to the bed, sat down, and began to stroke my forehead.

“My dear, dear Mike, how are you?” There was as much teasing in that voice as concern.

“I’m glad you’re finally awake. It seems I gave you a little too much sedative at dinner the other night. I didn’t mean for you to be asleep for a whole week.” I wondered if that was the truth. “I’ll bet you’re wondering just exactly why you’re here.” Terrific – she was a mind- reader, too. “Do you remember our date before that dinner, where you and I discussed our ‘most secret fantasies’? Well, it seems I wasn’t really truthful with you. You see, I have been interested in ‘recreational orthopedics’ for a long time, too. Of course, my interests also include other things,” she said, tracing her finger along the line of her corset’s bust- cups. “When you told me about your interest in casts, braces and such, I realized that I could provide for your fantasies, while at the same time fulfilling my own. There was just one small problem. I wanted to be spontaneous, not follow some script that my partner had decided upon. And, I wanted it to last longer than a day, a weekend, or even a week. Most of all, I wanted to be in charge. That’s why you’re here. To be my subject, my slave, to do with as I please. In exchange, you’ll get to experience some of the things that you’ve always wanted to, although I admit that a lot of other stuff is going to happen to you. Stuff you probably won’t like, but then, that’s the way I want it.”

“This hospital is a private facility, one run by myself and four other Doms”, she went on. “We all have an interest in ortho-slavery, and the others all have their own slaves. Some have more than one. As for myself,” and here she looked me in the eye and smiled widely, “you are my first. Everything I’m going to do to you, I’ve never done to anyone else. It will be a learning experience for us both.”

“As you’ve noticed, you are attached to a respirator. Your diaphragm muscles have been deliberately paralyzed, so that you are dependant on this machine to breath. That way, should you manage to get out of your restraints at some time, you cannot leave these premises. Indeed, you will be restricted to whatever room this machine happens to be plugged in at. You will forever more be fed through a tube that goes into your stomach, and will, most of the time, wear a catheter to allow the elimination of liquid waste. While your diet will be in liquid form from now on, there is a solid component to it, which will have to be eliminated. Every three days you will be administered an rather large enema, after which your butt will be plugged, so as to prevent any accidents. You may have noticed that you have not yet had a plug inserted – that is because it is necessary for you to be awake during the enemas, so that you can expel the solution. Also, you will be subjected to training sessions where you anus will be slowly stretch, so that you may accommodate larger butt plugs as time goes on. Eventually, you will be unable to close your rectum, requiring you to either wear a butt plug or diapers for the rest of your life. In addition, a special chastity harness will be fitted to you. This harness will constantly measure the size of your penis, and will administer electric shocks to an area below your scrotum when it falls below a certain size. The reason for this is that, as my slave, I want to train your cock to be erect and ready to please me whenever I desire. You will wear this device twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, even with your catheter in.”

I was trying to shake my head as much as my neck brace would let me. All of this sounded terribly painful, and terribly humiliating.

Linda saw my movements. “Trust me, darling, this is the easy way. In eight weeks, hopefully, you will be trained to provide me with a huge cock whenever I want. The alternative is worse.” This got my attention, and I stopped shaking my head. “While I am treated as an equal amongst my fellow doms, in fact there is one who is considered to be above us in rank. She actually owns this facility, and she makes the rules that we must all abide by, and one of her rules is that a slave must be sex-trained within eight weeks; otherwise she takes the matter into her own hands. If it goes that far, then you are subjected to surgery in which penile prosthesis are used – some of the erectile tissue is removed from your penis, and is replaced with two semi-rigid pieces of silicon foam. The result is a permanent erection, and probably somewhat larger than what you would otherwise experience. The down side to this is that, between the surgical procedure and the scar tissue that forms afterward, chances are only about fifty-fifty that you would ever be able to achieve orgasm again, unless through intense electrical stimulation. By doing it my way, you can have that permanent-pleaser and enjoy it too!”

My head was swimming. I had been yanked out of my world and thrown into another which from what I was hearing, was going to be a life bereft of liberty and choice. I was also wondering what my disappearance would mean to those I knew. Linda apparently read my mind on that count.

She reached over to the table next to my bed, and picked up a remote. The television immediately came on, and its attached VCR started playing. What showed on the screen was a news report on an explosion at a service station. According to the report, the fire was so intense that there were few body fragments left of the victims. As the victims’ names were played across the screen, I saw mine go by, along with my address. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, I was dead. My heart sank. There would be no one from the outside world looking for me, no one to rescue me from this nightmare. Once again I started shaking my head as far as the neck brace would allow, slower this time. Tears started falling from my eyes as the weight of my predicament sank in.

Linda saw this, and leaned over me. “I’ll have none of that. Stop feeling sorry for yourself right now.” Her words failed to inspire me to stop. “Very well. It’s time you learned what happens when you fail to obey.” With that, she reached over to the bedside table, and lifted from one of the drawers a squeezebulb with an attached tube. This she connected to a fitting somewhere on the bite block that filled my mouth, and closing the valve, she started slowly pumping the squeezebulb. With every squeeze, I felt the block in my mouth and the tube in my throat expand. As my cheeks puffed out like a chipmunks, she continued pumping. Just as I thought my jaw was going to be unhinged, she stopped, and disconnected the bulb and tube. My mouth and throat stayed filled. “There now. That should hold your attention. Also, this.” She removed a blindfold from the drawer, and fitted the squeezebulb to it. Fastening it around my head, she again started slowly pumping, pressurizing the blindfold and forcing it against my eyes. When she stopped, the pressure against my eyes caused them to hurt. I wondered if this was going to have an adverse affect on my vision, but realized there was nothing I could do about it at the time. Linda spoke again. “Perhaps that will teach you to obey me. Perhaps not.” I felt a rubber-gloved hand pick up my penis and start fondling it. Suddenly, the catheter was being moved back and forth within my urethra. The feeling was incredible, but also somewhat uncomfortable. “We have been changing your catheter every forty-eight hours, but I think, just so that you realized your station here, we are going to start changing it every twelve hours. And, when they next change it, I will have them start using a larger catheter. You’ll feel it more.” With a finale tug on the catheter, my penis was dropped.

“Time for you to get some shut-eye”, Linda announced. “Tomorrow is your big day. First, you are going to get something you told me you always wanted – we are going to put you in a body cast, head to toe, arms and legs, everything, just so it will be easier to move you around without the problem of restraining you. Then, once that dries, you get your first enema and ass-training session. Pleasant dreams!” With that, the ventilator’s volume was increased, and something must have been administered to me through it, because I quickly found myself groggy, though not yet asleep. Apparently Linda wanted me to experience some discipline from the blindfold and bite block before I drifted off. A few minutes later someone came in my room and, without saying a word, removed my catheter, and replaced it with another. It was definitely larger, and somewhat more uncomfortable. Some unknown amount of time later I drifted off to sleep.

This entry was posted in NBAK Stories. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

Why ask?