tagBDSMHer Best Worst Day

Her Best Worst Day

bymaryself©

Mary had been fascinated by casts since elementary school. Bracing came later, in Jr. High when the first of her classmates showed up for school in a Milwaukee. Sadly (from her perspective), while she has scoliosis and to her a noticeable hunchback, the curve developed too late and was of insufficient magnitude to require being fitted for her own.

Some years ago, she took advantage of her first partner's absence on a business trip to cast her left arm in white plaster and go for a full six week "recovery". On another occasion, she also found a ladderback TLS brace at a flea market, and managed to convince all questioners that, ill-fitting as she knew it to be, it was required for her health and comfort. She managed to carry that off for nearly a year. But, these subterfuges, brazen as they might have been, only worked because her partner was not the bill payer and was also uninsured. Thus, they never noted the absence of checks to doctors or explanation of benefit letters. When the relationship ended, Mary moved out of state, found the BDSM community local to her new home and managed to keep her fetish fed with leather and latex for many years.

In April of 16, when Mary arrived at the location for the day's filming of "Becky's Bad Day", an independent film her production team had been asked to shoot for a local writer, she had no Idea that the title was prophetic. The set was a riverbank, not far from a bridge over the Cape Fear that had the very convenient attribute of also being a takeout point for a float trail and thus equipped with a small gravel parking lot and outhouse about halfway down the steep road embankment. Mary's role in this production was script supervisor, responsible for shot continuity, and, since this was a freebie for a friend, she also acted as production assistant, "Hollywooding" the actors, setting up awnings, and keeping people and expensive equipment from falling into the shallow grave or the river. The last shot of the day, saved for the golden hour just before sunset after a long day's shoot, was up on the roadway. As soon as everything seemed ready, Mary gave the set a quick review. Something seemed off, but It wasn't actually until after the first shot had been spoiled by a passing pickup truck that she thought to check the actor exit note from the previous shot.

"Dammit, hang on y'all", Mary told the rest of the crew, "She's supposed to be wearing the sweater."

The director told everyone to take 5 and reset, then asked Mary where the missing sweater had been packed when they moved up from the riverbank.

"It's in the costume box, in the back of my truck, I'll run get it."

Mary hadn't meant it literally, but the embankment from the roadway down to the little parking lot was very steep and her gravity-assisted hurry had just turned into a run for her life when, about half way down, her foot caught on a hidden sapling stump that the DOT had chopped off right at mower height. She didn't even have time to scream before she threw her arms in front of her body in what turned out to be a successful attempt to keep her face from being the first thing to hit the gravel parking lot. Her first thought was to hope the resulting crunch/thump had been captured by the sound department, since her script had a shot they could really use that on. Her second was, "Holy fuck that hurts."

She wanted to get up. Somehow, she had ended up on her back and gravel made a shitty pillow, but when she tried to move her arms to lift herself, the pain was incredible. They were clearly both broken. The cast and crew were soon there and they eventually helped her sit up. Ice was fetched, and they plunged her forearms right into coolers set on either side of her. Her right arm hurt from shoulder to fingertips, her left from elbow down, and she wasn't entirely sure about her hip either. But she encouraged the crew to get the shot completed and wrap for the day before taking her to hospital.

In the ER, the first thing they did was give her some very strong painkillers and probably some valium. Still, getting the x-rays hurt enough that she almost threw up. But soon, the doctor arrived back to her bed with a pile of boxes and a basin. It was no surprise when he pulled the x-rays up on the monitor and described the radius fractures they showed. He injected powerful numbing agents, waited a bit for them to kick in while he fussed with the splinting materials, and then set the bones. Next came warm, wet sandwiches of plaster impregnated splinting material wrapped with elastic bandages that encased both of her arms from pits to knuckles. The day finally ended at about 1 in the morning, when Carol, the sound person who had driven Mary to hospital and stayed with her throughout the medical ordeals, helped her back into the passenger seat of the truck and took her back to her place, declaring that Mary was in no condition to be alone.

Exhausted, Mary gratefully accepted being tucked into Carol and Nancy's guest bed.

Somewhere around dawn, Mary awoke with a powerful urge to pee. As she struggled just to escape from the blankets, the first of hundreds of times over the course of the next few weeks that she felt the real gravity of losing most of the use of her arms, the feeling of overwhelming helplessness was followed rapidly by powerful arousal. Her dream of being casted was now her reality. She could hardly wait for the splints to be removed and her arms to be bound away in brilliant hot pink fiberglass.

She was lucky that she had close friends that she could rely on. The sorts of friends that will help a girl figure out some way to wipe her ass when neither arm has sufficient flexibility to reach it (with a wet nap wrapped around the handle of the bathroom brush), to open the fridge door when your fingers lack the strength to grip the handle (with a wooden spoon wedged into the gap for leverage), and to arrange your closet so all the clothes with no fasteners are at the reachable height. She was also lucky in having friends that she could talk into leaving her alone, so she could ride Hitachi-san three or four times a day for the ten long days between the best worst day of her life, and when she was gifted with her matching long arm casts for six full weeks.

Mary's boyfriend Matt had previously been perfectly happy to hold her down occasionally, but she had never dared to ask him to bind her. She asked him to come over often while casted "to help her" because sex was incredible without arms and she had never enjoyed it so much. All she had to do was think for about 10 seconds about her situation, unable to move her elbows or wrists, and her vagina would begin leaking. Giving in to her helplessness and immobility took her immediately into orthowhore space; insatiable in her lust to have Matt cum in or on her.

It wasn't until nearly the end of the fifth week in fiberglass that Matt confessed that he found her irresistible in her casts. He got hard just thinking about coming over to take her out. Did he mention the tending to her? Cutting her meal into bite size chunks and feeding her, doing her seatbelt, and holding her drink so she could sip from the straw... and OMG changing her diaper! Maty had decided to always wear one on the days he was coming over so she could fill it before he got there. Matt seemed to enjoy smoothing a dress over her freshly padded rump. It always made him rock hard. Feeling him spring to fullness, Mary would drop to her knees to nuzzle his jeans. Matt could not resist peeling the dress off over her head, pinning the casts behind her, seeing her helplessly diapered, before he dropped his fly so she could take him into her mouth for an appetizer.

Mary found life in her casts so enjoyable that when her orthopedist removed the casts, the standard 6 weeks having come to a close, she immediately went home so Matt could duplicate them with supplies purchased on Amazon. On her Facebook posts, she "lamented" about slow healing and that she was looking at living with hardly useful arms. She actually made it a further 10 weeks before she finally had to have Matt cut her out.

By the end of the first six weeks, it had become clear that the fall had done something to her spine as well. She began visiting her chiropractor 3 times a week, riding the bus because she was still unable to drive. As you can imagine, she got plenty of looks and even a few questions from bold souls. She had to wear a diaper on those days too, since she couldn't manage without her wet naps and brush handle and she was away from home for far too long. As she found the first time she rode the bus and peed on herself on the bus home. The nearly unbearable humiliation, having to walk the ¼ mile back to her house from the bus stop, with the evidence of her accident on display to her neighbors, was almost matched by the regulars on her bus hearing the plastic pants crinkle whenever she moved. Three times a week, she held it as long as she could, bouncing a little on the seat of the bus despite the telltale noises she was making. Inevitably however, she had to release it. The warm flood of urine pouring into her pants was the final humiliation, as it was clear from the way she looked and the smell, exactly what she was going through. But it was almost as humiliating as having to ask the chiropractor if she could use his restroom to change it.

Her boyfriend asked if perhaps a brace would make her comfortable? Something like this TLS clamshell he found for her on Amazon? Of course, the answer was an emphatic yes, despite the fact it meant she was forced into diapers more of the time and she was getting rashy. So Mary got to add the firm embrace and further restriction of a hips to breast brace to her confinement on days her boyfriend was there to put it on her after he changed her wet diaper. Neither of them thought was possible for the sex to get better, but when the chiropractor started focusing on her neck, adding the finishing touch to her confinement in the form of a strict, hard cervical collar was a no brainer.

A few months later, Mary had to have surgery to repair the crushed disks in her neck. The real pain that precipitated this was not fun or sexy in the slightest. But, being confined in a SOMI brace by the orthopedist, in an effort to make her life a bit less miserable while she waited for her surgery date certainly was. Mary opted for the disk replacement, rather than the old-fashioned fusion surgery, but she didn't tell her boss that. Instead she did what any good recreational caster might do. That is, to return to the SOMI, which Matt cleverly attached to the jacket to give her a full CTLSO as soon as she was out of the clutches of genuine medicos and wear it continuously through the end of the advertised 6 month recovery period from the fusion. Mary and her master Matt are now waiting for a good excuse to cast or brace her up again.

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