He sat across from me in the conversation room, his white knuckled hands clenching a printed copy of all the things he wanted to say, wanted to share with me, but doubted he’d have the courage to do so. I’ve seen that time and again…he must have spent all night typing it out, editing it and editing again to make sure it didn’t come off demanding or too specific but yet, entirely thorough.

He slid the paper in my direction, I knew he hoped I would just take it and read it, but there’s no satisfaction in that for me. I handed it back to him, moving a candle to light his own words, he was instructed to read.

He continued with an unexpected confidence, focusing his entire self on simply reading back typed words on the paper, until about half way though, his pupils dilated wide as he formed the words that had likely haunted him for years. I want to be totally helpless…. I want to be immobile…

“Show me what’s in your bag”, I taunted, abruptly ruining his perfect concentration.

He pulled out the supplies I requested him to bring, covering my table in large bags of plaster powder. Truly, the only way to COMPLETELY immobilize him, would be to wrap him in a full body plaster casting.

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I walked him to my medical room, appropriately covered in plastic tarps and helped him onto the table. For over an hour he held still, waiting patiently in near breathless anticipation as each layer was applied. I was happy to see how quickly it hardened into an ever expanding prison of white. As the minutes ticked by, more and more of him became enveloped and secured, he was stiffened, no movement in his feet or legs, his torso, arms or fingers…. just stillness. All that was left was his neck and his head, and he was SO eager for me to finish the job.

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It was my intention to make plenty of eye contact as I covered all but his mouth and nose. I looked away as little as I could, sealing in the feeling that I was watching him, observing his every breath, and very soon, everything about him would be under my control. The final strips were laid gently over his eyes, sealing him off from everything but the passage of air I left for him.

The next 3 hours would be quite a test for him….

His senses began to heighten as he was forced to lay in silence. His ears straining to hear, his eyes lusting to see; unaware of my proximity, his surroundings or anything else aside from the sound of his breathing. I shut off the music. I dimmed the lights so only blackness poured in through his air passage…. until of course, I covered even that with my hand.

At first, it was only for a brief second but I could sense his rush of panic. Though we’d talked about what I’d be doing to him once he was immobile, he was at the mercy of his instincts. That fight or flight urge that overtakes us in such moments of pure helplessness.

Over and over, I placed my hand over his only way to breath. Sometimes for only a second but more often, a more lingering pause. I wanted him to feel how overwhelmingly dependent he was on me in this moment.

Never once did he utter his safe word as we pressed on, his grip on things blurring as I replaced his thoughts with anticipation. Even when so thoroughly protected by this thick cocoon, I was able to rattle him from the outside.

It was such a disappointment when his alarm chimed and I had to cut him out….