The Lady of Chadwick Manor (part 2)

part 1

Left alone in the dark, I finally had a chance to assimilate my situation. The plaster had cured and was now stiff and unyielding. I could breathe if I took slow shallow breaths. Anything else left me dizzy and panting. My chest and stomach were held immobile. I tried to move my fingers, which were somewhat free. That little bit of movement helped me to focus on the fact that I could at least have some control over my body.

Soon, I felt a rumbling, the machinery started turning me over. I was soon hanging face down. My body was so well supported that I hardly felt any strain. I even started to doze off in that contrived position. Soon the rumbling began and I was put in a face up position again. The throbbing in my teeth was the only thing that was keeping me company.

Soon the door to my chamber opened, and I was blinded by the light coming in. Barbara and one of the assistants came into focus.

"How are you feeling?"

"I... I'm... I'm ok."

"Ok dear, we're going to give you something to drink."

"What time is it?"

"Don't worry about that. Just try to relax."

They have me a thick milky drink out of a plastic bottle, using a straw.

"We need you to keep your strength."

Meanwhile one of the assistants was changing my diaper. It felt good, it was one of the few exposed areas of my body. One of the few areas in which I could feel anything.

I drank up to the last drop of the liquid. I was thirsty after sweating profusely inside the hot curing cast.

"Can I have some more to drink?"

"Not right now my dear. You need to drink little by little. Your stomach doesn't have much space to expand. You don't want a tummy ache inside a tight cast, believe me."

The machine started rumbling, and I was soon inside the chamber, back in the dark and quiet solitude of the chamber.

The hours or days passed by. It was hard to keep track of time. It was hard to keep calm. Every now or then the urge to move came, but there was nothing I could do, I was held fast by the cast. I could feel my muscles twitch within the tight confines of the cast. The machine would rumble every so often and would turn me over, but I had no sense of direction, no sense of time. Eventually I didn't know if I was hanging upside down or right side up. Only when Barbara came to feed me my liquid sustenance did I know that I was facing up.

The time passed, I tried to keep track of time by counting the number of times I was fed or the number of times I was flipped, but it was useless, things were hazy and I couldn't keep track after five or less. In the boring slumber of my prison I started to become more aware of my body. First I noticed that my muscles started to twitch less. Then I noticed that I could squirm a little. Was the rigid cast giving away? Was I going mad or was my body getting accustomed to it's new form fitting shell? I could not really tell. Barbara kept refusing to tell me how long I had been in the cast, out how long I had left.

It came as I surprise when the machine pulled me out and instead of feeling the now familiar sensation of having my diaper changed, I was yanked out and placed on a gurney.

"Good morning, dear. Today we're removing your cast to get your measurements! You've done very well so far," said Mistress Barbara.

I could feel my eyes tearing with joy. I would have jumped with joy if I could move at all.

They moved my immobile body to the casting table, and began to saw off the cast with an electric saw. It tingled as it cut open the different pieces of my cast. As my limbs we freed, they were left limp, too weak to move after their imprisonment. I tried to move them but I had little control over my body. They washed off my body with wet sponges, removing all of the muck that had accumulated over my skin. Even though my skin felt significantly more sensitive, it felt amazing to feel the cool air blow over my body. I tried moving my weak arms, and little by little I started to regain control over them. 

Two of the assistants helped me to my feet. My weak legs were trembling with every step. Wearing nothing but a loose bathrobe, I was taken with to a room with no windows, and a small platform in the middle. A middle aged seamstress stood to the side, wearing a similar uniform to the one the nurses were wearing. A measuring tape slung around her neck gave her occupation away. She introduced herself as Joanna.

I was helped onto the platform, where the seamstress took every possible measurement around my body.

After the measurements were taken, double checked, and entered into a clipboard, I was led to the dentist chair. The dentist was already there. I ploped on the dentist chair after the nurses let go of me. I was so weak I wasn't going anywhere!

Quickly, Dr. Garrett placed a lip retractor, exposing all of the metal work in my mouth. The doctor quickly cut the elastics holding the arch wires on my top teeth. With a soft pull he removed the wire. Dr. Garrett took a new wire and fixed it to the back brackets. With small pliers, one by one the doctor installed new elastics, fixing the new wire to my brackets. He repeated the same procedure with my lower jaw.

"You will feel some pressure as you get used to the new wire." By now both my upper and lower jaw were hurting with a dull ache. I brought my weak fingers up to my mouth and began to explore the foreign material in my mouth. It was the first time I had the chance to pay attention to my metal mouth, now that I was free from the cast.

Mistress Barbara slowly walked into the room and put her hand on my shoulder.

"It's time to put you back in your cast..."

"Wha... What do you mean?"

"Dear, you've only completed half of your procedure... But don't worry, you're doing great, it will be over in no time at all."

My mind knew exactly what was happening, but was repressing it. "How long are you going to put me back in the cast?"

"Don't worry about that. You're almost there, dear. You must be brave."

They carried me to the casting table where mistress Barbara and two other assistants repeated the same procedure, wrapping my body limb by limb in heavy plaster. This time around, my arms and legs were too weak to even shudder as I was being mummified inside my cast. This time around, the cast felt much more snug. Not tight, but almost. And there was nothing I could do. I was left on the casting table for a while why the fans blew away the some the heat generated by the curing plaster. It was hot inside, but there was nothing I could do, I was could only anticipate with great apprehension being put back into the box.

After the cast was cured, it was time to put me back in the box. So sad must have I looked as I was being placed back inside my dark prison that in the last glimpse I had of Mistress Barbara, I could see her eyes sightly tearing up. But I knew that even that slight sign of empathy or compassion would not ease the strict regime to which she was subjecting me. I had become resigned to enduring two more weeks of imprisonment in my cast.

The next two weeks, or what I thought was two weeks, seemed to go faster than the first stint in the body cast. Maybe it was because I was resigned to my fate, maybe because I just felt too weak to fruitlessly fight the unyielding plaster. But at least I did not have the urge to move around I had the first time I was imprisoned in the cast. The only thing that occupied my mind was the throbbing in my mouth from recently tightened braces, but even that subsided eventually, leaving me in limbo.

I don't know how long I was in the cast for the second time, I felt so defeated I didn't even try to keep track of time. But I do remember that every time the door to my dark compartment opened, I hoped that I would be released. And invariably disappointment invaded me as soon as the last sliver of light dissapered as the heavy door was closed. I would sometimes sob, but I felt too weak to even cry. I even stopped talking when the nurses came to change my diapers. What could I possibly talk about? The boredom? The restriction? The muscle twitching that you can't do anything about? The panic of being woken from an uneasy slumber by loud machinery at random times to be turned over? Yet, in my catatonic hopelessness, release did come. I did not realize I was getting out of the cast until I was placed in the table and felt the buzzing of the saw cutting the rigid plaster. The feeling of air on my free skin was as glorious as the first time I had the cast removed. I was too weak to try to move, so I just lay there, taking in the sensations that most people take for granted, but had been denied to me. The sweet feeling of fresh air on my skin.

"The seamstress is here. She will take your measurements and verify that they reached the targets we have for your wedding dress. Hopefully two casting sessions have been enough and we won't need a third one."

_________________

Two of the nurses had to carry me to the platform to be measured. I could not stand on my own. I tried to cooperate, but inside my mind I was in panic. "A third session inside that dreadful cast? I can't, I just couldn't take it."

Once on the platform, Joanna approached and repeated the measurements. She took the clipboard and showed it to mistress Barbara. I dared not look.

I heard steps and mistress Barbara stepped in front of the platform, were the two nurses were still holding me up.

"You've done great. Your progress was amazing. We can start fitting you now." She smiled, and I let out a sigh in relief. I was not going back inside a cast!

Joanna came around and took out the contents of an elongated box. It seemed familiar, but I couldn't make it out. Meanwhile, the assistants were removing the bathrobe and having me step into very loose and long bloomers. On top they were buttoning a short sleeveless top. It was fitted, but there was no way the flimsy material could support my bust without a brassiere underneath.

Joanna approached me and wrapped the contraption around my mid section, clasping it closed in front. And soon as she hooked the studs running down the front I could feel how stiff it was.

"Now let me make sure you're chemise it's nice and smooth underneath your corset before we start lacing it."

A corset? An old fashion boned corset? I couldn't imagine. It was in a diferent level than even my most strict girdle, a boned and zippered longline girdle that pinches me everywhere and makes me malhumored after wearing it for just a couple of hours (but mother still insisted I wear it on Sundays despite my protests).

"I won't be able to move in this thing." I protested.

"A real lady doesn't need to move much, my dear. Men move, they go places and do things. Ladies just 'are'. And it's your role as a lady if society to 'be' the most delicate, graceful, composed, and disciplined. A corset is a wonderful aid in achieving this ideal." Mistress Barbara said.

"And I even would add indispensable. I cannot imagine how it could be otherwise." Mistress Joanna chimed in as she was adjusting my chemise and my corset, making it snug.

Meanwhile the two assistants were guiding my hands to a metal bar that hung overhead, connected with a chain to a pulley attached to the ceiling. They lashed my hands to the bar using thickly padded leather straps, making sure I would not go anywhere until released. I did not know then, but this was a lacing bar, and we were going to become regular acquaintances.

I heard a clicking sound, and I felt my arms being pulled taunt until I was standing in tip toes.

They kept lacing my corset. Every pull would knock out the air out of my lungs.

 "Please take me out of this thing! It's already hurting me!"

"Hush dear, a corset takes a lot of time to do its job. As your body settles into the shape of the corset you'll be a little bit more comfortable."

As I was concentrating on breathing against the lacing of the corset, one of the maids was raising my right foot, which were already on tip toes, and pulling up long woolen tights. Next she fitted knee length leather boots with high thin heels. She started lacing the boots, having to redo the lacing several times as the stiff leather began to conform to the shape of my legs. Once the boot was tight enough she tied the boot laces and proceed to do the same with my left foot. Given my predicament I was glad to have some support, even if my feet were now held in a forced arched position in the highest heels I had ever worn.

"We'll let you take a break to get accostumed to the corset. We'll be back in a few minutes to continue lacing you."

I was left alone standing in the platform, standing in my high heels, my wrists still strapped to the lacing bar. I was panting and felt lightheaded from all the recent activity.

... To be continued