Bens Wet Sheet Treatment Part 2

Author: symbiot
Title: Ben's Wet Sheet Treatment Part 2
Date: 19 May 2009

Each end of the frame has a stubby axle at its center which slots into a corresponding teflon-lined bearing socket inside the tank. This arrangement allows the frame, and Ben with it, to be rotated about the long axis like a barbecue spit. They disconnect the hoist. The frame is now free to rotate beneath the surface of the water. They ensure Ben is breathing properly through the tubes provided and that they will remain kink-free and open during the next procedure.

Through the rippling water, Ben sees Bud looking down at him. He’s speaking to someone, but if he’s good he’ll be able to lip read: "Voluntary . . . Crazy . . . Maximum severity . . . Who knows?"

There are several more nurses here now. Fresh faces, in white trouser outfits, masks. A more purposeful crowd than the reception committee. They take folded sheets from the soak tub and refold them to match their purpose. Each sheet goes through rollers to expel any trapped air.
The idea of preparing the sheets in this way, and applying the pack with Ben submerged is to see all air is excluded from the pack: Air acts as an insulator.

Applying the pack in the tank is easier because Ben is relatively buoyant. They carefully wrap the sheets around each limb as tightly and smoothly as possible. Cloth tapes tightly tie each sheet in place prior to bandaging. Bandaging the thickest part of the limb first tends to force the flesh to the thinner parts and make the limb more uniform in thickness . Each turn of the bandage overlaps the preceding one.

Pressure is applied as evenly as possible to reduce the probability of pressure sores. A lot of bandages are used, too. It seems extravagant, but no amount of wriggling can loosen this binding.

It may seem like a lot of work but, face it, Ben isn’t going to be unpacked for a while. To aid the wrapping operation, they rotate the frame and Ben like a spit. A great improvement over manhandling the enormous combined weight of Ben and his wet pack on a table.

They include his hands and feet in the wrapping process, removing and replacing the cuffs one at a time. To help speed the process several hydro attendants work at the same time on different body areas. The supervising nurse ensures that all the bindings are tight enough and that the pressure is uniform. When binding the head, they use pads over the eyes to minimize any gaps in the packing.

After a couple of sheets have been wrapped around the torso, a short corset compresses the waist and controls respiration. He’s getting the harshest treatment they carry out here, known as a Code Eight. They have folded his penis back toward his buttocks and holding it in position with pack sheets applied in the style of a diaper. They hold the sheets in place with a tightly strapped canvas waist belt and attached crotch straps designed to prevent erection.

He feels them fitting his butt with short stubs of plastic tube, over an inch in diameter, to hold the orifice wide open. Various extra electrodes are attached to his nipples, armpits, penis, butt. Once his limbs, trunk, crotch, neck and head are satisfactorily wrapped, then the next stage begins.

They hoist the support-frame from the bottom of the tank so that Ben is supported by it. They remove the ankle cuffs and place sheets between his legs to fill any gaps. Securely, they wrap additional sheets around the legs and the trunk and fasten them in place with bandages. At this stage stronger bandages are used, made out of cotton sheeting.

As the thickness increase, it is no longer necessary to bandage after every sheet. They splint his legs and body. The splint is an off-white canvas corset-like device, with stainless steel stays. It laces up the back and extends from the ankles to beneath the armpits with adjustable shoulder straps. Fittings are provided for a head-harness and shoulder brace to be attached. They lace up the splint as tightly as possible, using heavy-duty buttonhook devices and temporary straps.

Once properly applied, Ben is held in absolute rigidity. His feet are going to be held en pointe, but for now, the splint is anchored by a strap across the soles of the feet.

They release the wrist cuffs and remove the original frame altogether, leaving a waterlogged Ben bobbing, nearly all of him underwater.

They put each arm into a splint. Each splint has a mitt for the hand. They tightly lace each arm splint from wrist to armpit. They strap the arms securely to the side of the body using the special canvas straps built into the side of the body splint, passing the straps through the loops in the arm splints. Then, extra-large sheets wrap his entire body, from the crown of the head to the tips of the toes, as a single unit. As with any other wrapping operation, they pass each sheet at least 3 complete times around Ben to ensure that it cannot be unwrapped. After the last sheets are added they again bandage Ben from head to toe. The sheets are 100% cotton, they absorb and retain the maximum amount of water and provide the minimum insulation.

Now, Ben is bound with canvas cinch straps and slid into a heavy canvas security-bag.

Remember, Ben is still immersed in the tank. The staff fiddle around to make sure there is no air trapped in the bag. They tightly lace and strap the security bag and then perform a final heavy bandaging to prevent any possibility of air entering the bag when Ben is raised out of the tank. Ben is then securely refastened to the support frame with a number of canvas straps. His feet are forced into an exaggerated en pointe position using a ballet strap.

Ben and his frame are hoisted out of the tank, and the excess body-heated water drains off. As the water drains out of the pack no air can pass back through the pack-sheets to fill the voids previously filled by the water. Ben not only feels the oppressive weight of the wet sheets, but also feels the pack draw tighter as the sheets ‘shrink’ to fill gaps previously filled with water. It is rather similar to being vacuum packed, Bud has told Matt. The canvas straps used to secure Ben to the frame are retightened as any excess water drains from the pack.

Now they lift the hoisted frame and Ben clear of the tank. Slowly, it’s moved to the cold tank.
It’s right alongside, but this one has just been filled with cold water, and will be kept that way by a continuous stream of ice from a dispenser, and a recycle through a refrigeration loop. In winter, it just gets fed from melt water off the roof, but now they need a little help. There’s ice on the surface, which breaks as they gradually lower Ben into the tank.

So all the warm water is removed from the pack, they hoist him out and allow the pack to drain again, before re-immersing. This is done several times in quick succession. As the freezing water gradually passes through the pack they hear Ben desperately trying to inhale more air through the breathing tubes. The seeping cold water is making his oxygen requirement shoot up.
He’s making a pitiful moaning sound, but Bud shrugs off Matt’s worried glance.

"We could give him a little shot of anaesthetic in the neck and stop that noise you know, numb his vocal cords," a beefy male nurse suggests cruelly.

"No, let him sing." Ben is trying to inhale all the air he can as his metabolism increases to combat the cold. Seeing this, and aiming to make him suffer, Bud has a nurse fiddle with the air tubes, attaching a clamp squeezing them partly shut. As his air supply is reduced, it forces him to stop wasting effort on making a sound, and reduces his breathing to an asthmatic wheeze.

"He’ll think he’s asphyxiating," he says.

After the initial immersion, Ben is left to soak in the tank.

"Now the auto-immersion cycle starts," Bud explains. "We use a timer to determine when Ben will be hoisted out of the tank or immersed. It’s automatic. The timer has a random setting so he cannot anticipate the next hoisting or immersion."

"That’s mean," Matt says with a little smile.

"The period between immersions may be long enough for Ben to become uncomfortably hot," he adds. "But, maybe not. The various sensors will tell us everything we need to know. We can make sure he doesn’t die, but I think he’ll come close a few times."

Matt is pleased, because Ben will be too. They can make him suffer more this way. Ben will be left without any contact with the outside world. How long? Maybe for as much as a week. They’ve left it vague with the hospital so no one will be asking questions.

The hell endured by Ben is hard to imagine. Itching, cramps and fear of immersion are his only companions. The timer switch also activates the white-noise speakers in the hydro room, which effectively masks any outside noise that Ben might otherwise hear. Since the white noise is very loud, the staff wear hearing protectors while in the room. Ben is protected by the ear plugs and layers of pack.

The next day. Bud is talking to a group of German students, Matt is there too. He’s shown a video, explained the wrapping process.

He says: "A wet-sheet-pack is clearly a fearsome method of discipline. Our patient, Ben, has been transformed into an absolutely helpless and rigid worm, without even the slightest hope of escape. Even his fingers, toes, jaw and eyelids are immobilized. Even shivering is reduced to a minimal level. I’m sure he has been reduced to a state of blind panic, but is of course not able to communicate that panic to anyone or get any form of comfort."

"Why?" a young male student asks, wide-eyed.

"Because he longs to endure the extremes of human sensation. This man has been locked into a gimp suit for 46 hours. Mummified and tubed for 72. He loves it!"

"Oh." The man is stunned, but licks his lips, and looks around to see if anyone can tell that this excites him. They don’t, but Bud does. He makes a mental note to get his name.

"Eventually all he’ll feel here is the intense restriction, and his thoughts. This is the torture that breaks the strongest, and produces religious visions, acid trip nightmares, and even normality in loonies."

The students chuckle uneasily. Many know that their governments want them to learn this technique.

Ben is alone! He is being crushed and needs to move to relieve the screaming cramps in his limbs and body. Ben cannot possibly lie still any longer - but will! Ben has no idea when he will be released or how much time has passed. Ben knows beyond doubt that he has entered a living hell - if this can be called living. Ben is not catheterized, so the question of urination soon arises, since they are keeping his fluids in balance.

He’s thinking, "Can I hold back until I am released?"

"How long will I have to wait - just a few minutes, more?"

Eventually Ben succumbs to the urge and is forced to urinate.

"See all the yellow in the water? Check the monitor. Yeah, he’s pissing. Okay, I guess we need to turn up the recycle," an operator says, looking up from an X-Men comic book.

Later the issue will become defecation. They gave him some glycerin suppositories. Oh, Ben will eventually be forced to succumb to this, too, though he’ll merely be leaking after all the enemas, the earlier low-solids regime, and the saline and liquid drips. In addition to the shame of fouling himself—he’ll have visions of lying in his own waste, even if he isn’t—he’ll be concerned about what "treatment" may be meted out to him if he messes the tank so horribly. Something to worry about.

"How much longer?" Matt asks.

"Up to you."

"Well, it could be days, you know. He’d want that."

"Um. But I’m new to this and I want to avoid the possibility of serious mental imbalance. Watch those dials. See how he’s REMing? And watch the heart rate, see how it’s been zooming up and down. The temperature, skin, deep body? He’ll have some vivid memories of things that never even happened, his dreams will be so real."

"You sound like you’ve overcome your dislike of this technique, doctor." Matt observes. "In fact, you’re almost enthusiastic."

"Well, under certain circumstances it might have its uses, yes . . ."

"Such as?"

"Oh, training a submissive men for his master. With the right subliminal messages masked in the white noise in the tank, kind of post hypnotic stuff. Yes, this could have potential . . ."

"Wasn’t there a lot of trouble the last time doctors liked playing games with cold and helpless people?"

"Ahem, yes, so I’m not going to make a big thing of it. I don’t think I’ll publish this."

"Ah, don’t panic. You’re safe with me, doc, I’m as unethical as you, and just as self-centered as him, so don’t worry."

"But if either of you have any patients you’d like to refer. People who call you about the film? Well hey, a dollar is a dollar . . ."

"When is this going to end?"

"I must have been here for hours!"

"Is it night or is it day?"

"Have I been in here for 6 hours or 24 hours or 2 days or a week?"

"Nobody told me how long this treatment would last - they implied it would only be a couple of hours, but I know it s been longer than that!"

"Are they ever going to release me?"

"The cramps keep getting worse and my muscles feel as if they are being torn apart."

"Are my arms turning blue?"

"Oh god, please let me out."

But Ben is not released—the treatment continues. Life remains a living hell of alternating heat, cold, immersion, fear of drowning, claustrophobia, suffocation, cramps and unimaginable boredom. Nothing to do but lie there, nothing to hear, smell, control or feel except the cycles of immense cold. And every now and then, piercing pain in his penis or ass. Hell, on earth. There is no way to know when the next immersion will come, or if it will come, and no way to judge the passing of time.

Ben dreams on, his visions and fantasies becoming more bizarre with each minute. It’s late on the third day, but he doesn’t know that. In the control room, Matt dumps his takeout Vietnamese food in a wastebasket, drops his pants, and begins to gently stroke himself, reading a novel as he samples the wetness of his dick. Bud is down on the floor of the room, fiddling with leads, administering shocks, his erect prick in his hand. They wave to each other. He’ll be up soon, and in the mood for Matt.

And Ben? He dreams on.