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Description

Story Guide -- Story List
Length (rounded up): 1850 words, 7 min 30 sec.
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Meeting Tiffany, Part 1

Mr Petrovsky showed great interest in the first-time client, however, the feeling wasn’t shared by the woman. The guest, a black-haired girl in her early thirties, paid little attention to him, but she was absorbed in the catalogue whose content left her speechless.

She curiously leafed through the book that the host had given her ten minutes ago. The limited edition was indeed aimed to serve a certain segment of an adult audience, although it didn’t contain any sexually explicit content.

‘Why do you need casts, Mrs Renier?’ he asked to end the long pause.

Michelle snapped her head up, but she let the book open. Disturbed, she glanced around the cosy room of the private Club C. She didn’t find any unnecessary ears there.

Michelle sighed. ‘I feel so neglected, Mr Petrovsky.’

‘Do you think wearing a cast is the right solution to your problem?’

Michelle didn’t answer, because her gaze was lost in the stunning pictures and description in the publication before her.

DSSC: Double shoulder spica casts. Catalogue No.: 059. Available in white, blue, green or red colour.

Photographed exquisitely, the two pictures portrayed a female and a male model. The symmetrically constructed, gigantic-sized medical dressings fully imprisoned the whole torsos and both of the arms. The cast-captured limbs seemingly floated horizontally at shoulder height, with the elbows bent so that the hands pointed temptingly towards the readers. A pair of sturdy bars united the elbows with the rigid shells around the abdomen to support the heavy bandages. The woman’s DSSC was red, while the other one worn by the man was white-coloured.

Michelle untangled herself from the ‘magical’ power of the book. She turned her head up to look at the host, and she apologised:
‘I’m sorry. I’m lost. Did you ask a question? This book is very... unique.’

‘Thank you.’ Her compliment brought a wide smile to Mr Petrovsky’s face. ‘It was born from my idea, and it is a figurative foundation stone of our little society. Mrs Renier, I’m here to help you, and please listen to my advice. Are you interested in a double shoulder spica cast? Well, you’re a first-timer caster. That’s why I don’t recommend having something so big for the first occasion.’

‘Confined this way?’ Michelle smiled and glanced at the pictures. The solid array of the unified body casts and arm casts froze the whole upper body. ‘Oh, no, thanks, really. And I don’t want to have a Minerva cast, either.’

‘What a definitive answer! Have you already seen the last chapters?’

‘I’ve already skimmed through your whole catalogue, Mr Petrovsky. It’s full of fascinating casts, but I think that most of them aren’t made for me. I don’t like to have anything that completely confines most of my body.’

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Then let’s start with something small. But sooner or later, you should try out being in a full body cast for a weekend. I bet it would be a life-changing experience both for you and your partner.’

Michelle giggled and shook her head.

‘Are you sure?’ Mr Petrovsky asked. ‘Mrs Renier, I wouldn’t like to persuade you to have any casts if you are not fully committed to having them. Perhaps, there can be many other ways to resolve the challenges in your marriage, and you need a marriage counsellor and not me.’

‘Do you think I did nothing to save my marriage? We went on holiday three times a year. Those times are like heaven when David and I care about only each other. But when we got home, he falls in love with his job all over again. I figured out that I need something that lasts longer than two or three weeks, and... it’s a bit difficult to explain... I’d like David to take care of me all the time. I hope you can get what I mean.’

Mr Petrovsky leant back in his chair. ‘Mrs Renier, do you assume that your husband would spend more time with you if you would be confined in casts for a few months?’

‘It can sound silly, but it’s worth a try, right?’ Michelle seemed uncertain. ‘He’s a senior building engineer, and soon, he’ll be promoted to project manager. His favourite job these days is a skyscraper project. He spends at least fourteen hours a day on the construction site. It’s unbearable. If I’d have casts, he would surely notice me.’

‘And what if your plan fails? For example, your husband doesn’t quit the job, but he hires a nurse to care about you?’ Mr Petrovsky asked.

She giggled. ‘David would do it easily. Of course, I was prepared for almost everything, so I can prevent this outcome, too. Well, his boss has got a strong, family-oriented attitude. As soon as he learns that I’m “broken”, he sends David home to be with me.’

‘And the boss will hear about what happened to you, anyway.’ Mr Petrovsky guessed how Michelle's conspiracy would work.

‘For sure, he will be informed anyway.’ Michelle laughed. ‘For David, the endless working hours would be over. His boss will offer him a part-time job that he can’t reject. David will be allowed to be at the work site four or six hours a day. And he will be with me in the rest of the time.’

‘Please, let me express my compliment on your meticulously made plan.’ Mr Petrovsky noticed that the cast catalogue was opened at the pages depicting a male and a female model wearing DLLCs. ‘And what kind of cast would you like to get? For example, two long leg casts would be ideal for you to regain his attention. This type of cast is so impressive and makes you so helpless! Especially, when supplemented with crutches or a wheelchair.’

DLLC: Dual long leg cast. Catalogue No: 037. Available in white, blue, green or red colour.

The models were seated in generously upholstered chairs. Their outstretched legs were wrapped in straight casts that started at the highest part of the thighs, and covering everything, they solidly spiralled down to the feet. The heels, finely casted, rested on footstools.

Although the dimension and the posture of the leg casts were identical, their material wasn’t. Bulky plaster shells shackled the girl’s legs, while the guy was pinned to his chair by two magnificently streamlined, blue fibreglass casts.

Michelle imagined herself having shells that bound both of her legs. Her lower limbs would be held firmly in place by inflexible dressings that would extend between the pelvis and the feet. They would be so enormous that they would conceal even her ‘broken’ big toes, and only the four toes would be free, laying on balcony-like platforms.

Restricted in two long leg casts... That means she would need a wheelchair or a pair of crutches... or both of them. She wouldn’t be able to bend her knees, she would constantly fight with the casts, dragging and pulling the dead weights, unable to flex the knees and the ankles. Even standing up would be hellishly hard.

Michelle shook the story out of her head. ‘Mr Petrovsky, you’re right. I’m not ready for big casts. I need something smaller that makes me...’ She paused, not finding the fitting word.

‘...that makes David understand that you are reliant on his devoted help all day and all night?’

Michelle nodded. ‘Exactly. Is it possible for me to get it?’

‘Put another way: is there a cast that is not too huge yet it makes you utterly helpless?’ Mr Petrovsky summarised the required features. ‘I think there is something for you on Page 5.’

Michelle instantly found the mentioned passage in the book, and blew a breath in amazement. ‘Wow... It’s so... out of ordinary.’

‘Do you like it?’

The pictures mesmerised her. ‘Oh, my goodness. It’s so small, but it makes your life extremely complicated.’

‘Do you want to have them?’ Mr Petrovsky asked.

Michelle grinned. ‘Absolutely.’

‘However, it’ll demand a great commitment on your part,’ he said as a final warning. ‘It’ll have an influence on every minute of your life. If you think it’s too confining, we can apply a reduced version.’

Michelle firmly put her finger on the picture. ‘No, I want to have it. It is perfect this way. I can survive four weeks with it. Especially, if David supports me.’

‘For six weeks, Mrs Rainer. If you pretend to have real medical casts, you'll have to wear them for one and a half months at least.’

‘Excellent. Six weeks with my husband is a way better than four weeks with him.’

‘And which colour do you prefer? White, black, green, red, blue, yellow, pink, orange?’

Michelle closed her eyes to visualise her future casts. Orange... is too orange. Pink is too girlish. Yellow is too flashy. Blue, moreover dark blue... might be good and suit her black hair and black eyes. Maybe, red... but it’s too hot. Green? If she would be a hard-core environmentalist... Black... is too Goth.

‘Keep it as simple as possible. It's not about fashion. Pure white, please,’ she said.

‘Okay.’ Mr Petrovsky wrote the catalogue number on a sheet of paper. ‘And the material? Plaster or fibreglass?’

‘What is the difference?’

‘Fibreglass is more modern, and it’s lighter than...’

‘Oh, no! David must see how heavy casts I must wear,’ she said quickly.

‘Then we should make up a credible story for your casts. Everybody’s first question would be “Oh, my God, what happened to you?” And you would need to have a good explanation.’

‘Do you have any good idea?’ she asked.

‘We’ve already drafted several story templates,’ Mr Petrovsky said. ‘They are mostly about accidents. If you would say that you were attacked or robbed, that would be a crime, and you would need documents from the police, too. That would make your and our life more difficult. What if your husband calls the cops to ask some questions about the investigation? This is why we insist on accident stories.’

‘So, I should tell everyone that I had an accident...,’ Michelle said.

‘It’s simple and credible, and everybody will feel sorry for you. Just one more thing! If anyone is interested in your X-rays or medical records, please don’t hesitate to call me. We’ve got an embedded junior assistant in a surgery department. He can produce any kind of medical document if needed.’

‘You seem to have thought of everything.’

‘We have to serve our well-established clientele,’ Mr Petrovsky said proudly.

Michelle beamed. ‘Thank you so much in advance for making these hilarious casts for me.’

‘Hopefully, they'll improve your marriage. However, you can still change your mind, if....’

Michelle shook her head firmly.

Mr Petrovsky stood up and gestured at the door. ‘Then please, follow me to our private cast room.’

to be continued

Next (Part 2) -- Contents -- Gallery Folder

Story Guide -- Story List

Description

Story Guide -- Story List
Length (rounded up): 1850 words, 7 min 30 sec.
Next (Part 2) -- Contents -- Gallery Folder

Meeting Tiffany, Part 1

Mr Petrovsky showed great interest in the first-time client, however, the feeling wasn’t shared by the woman. The guest, a black-haired girl in her early thirties, paid little attention to him, but she was absorbed in the catalogue whose content left her speechless.

She curiously leafed through the book that the host had given her ten minutes ago. The limited edition was indeed aimed to serve a certain segment of an adult audience, although it didn’t contain any sexually explicit content.

‘Why do you need casts, Mrs Renier?’ he asked to end the long pause.

Michelle snapped her head up, but she let the book open. Disturbed, she glanced around the cosy room of the private Club C. She didn’t find any unnecessary ears there.

Michelle sighed. ‘I feel so neglected, Mr Petrovsky.’

‘Do you think wearing a cast is the right solution to your problem?’

Michelle didn’t answer, because her gaze was lost in the stunning pictures and description in the publication before her.

DSSC: Double shoulder spica casts. Catalogue No.: 059. Available in white, blue, green or red colour.

Photographed exquisitely, the two pictures portrayed a female and a male model. The symmetrically constructed, gigantic-sized medical dressings fully imprisoned the whole torsos and both of the arms. The cast-captured limbs seemingly floated horizontally at shoulder height, with the elbows bent so that the hands pointed temptingly towards the readers. A pair of sturdy bars united the elbows with the rigid shells around the abdomen to support the heavy bandages. The woman’s DSSC was red, while the other one worn by the man was white-coloured.

Michelle untangled herself from the ‘magical’ power of the book. She turned her head up to look at the host, and she apologised:
‘I’m sorry. I’m lost. Did you ask a question? This book is very... unique.’

‘Thank you.’ Her compliment brought a wide smile to Mr Petrovsky’s face. ‘It was born from my idea, and it is a figurative foundation stone of our little society. Mrs Renier, I’m here to help you, and please listen to my advice. Are you interested in a double shoulder spica cast? Well, you’re a first-timer caster. That’s why I don’t recommend having something so big for the first occasion.’

‘Confined this way?’ Michelle smiled and glanced at the pictures. The solid array of the unified body casts and arm casts froze the whole upper body. ‘Oh, no, thanks, really. And I don’t want to have a Minerva cast, either.’

‘What a definitive answer! Have you already seen the last chapters?’

‘I’ve already skimmed through your whole catalogue, Mr Petrovsky. It’s full of fascinating casts, but I think that most of them aren’t made for me. I don’t like to have anything that completely confines most of my body.’

‘All right,’ he said. ‘Then let’s start with something small. But sooner or later, you should try out being in a full body cast for a weekend. I bet it would be a life-changing experience both for you and your partner.’

Michelle giggled and shook her head.

‘Are you sure?’ Mr Petrovsky asked. ‘Mrs Renier, I wouldn’t like to persuade you to have any casts if you are not fully committed to having them. Perhaps, there can be many other ways to resolve the challenges in your marriage, and you need a marriage counsellor and not me.’

‘Do you think I did nothing to save my marriage? We went on holiday three times a year. Those times are like heaven when David and I care about only each other. But when we got home, he falls in love with his job all over again. I figured out that I need something that lasts longer than two or three weeks, and... it’s a bit difficult to explain... I’d like David to take care of me all the time. I hope you can get what I mean.’

Mr Petrovsky leant back in his chair. ‘Mrs Renier, do you assume that your husband would spend more time with you if you would be confined in casts for a few months?’

‘It can sound silly, but it’s worth a try, right?’ Michelle seemed uncertain. ‘He’s a senior building engineer, and soon, he’ll be promoted to project manager. His favourite job these days is a skyscraper project. He spends at least fourteen hours a day on the construction site. It’s unbearable. If I’d have casts, he would surely notice me.’

‘And what if your plan fails? For example, your husband doesn’t quit the job, but he hires a nurse to care about you?’ Mr Petrovsky asked.

She giggled. ‘David would do it easily. Of course, I was prepared for almost everything, so I can prevent this outcome, too. Well, his boss has got a strong, family-oriented attitude. As soon as he learns that I’m “broken”, he sends David home to be with me.’

‘And the boss will hear about what happened to you, anyway.’ Mr Petrovsky guessed how Michelle's conspiracy would work.

‘For sure, he will be informed anyway.’ Michelle laughed. ‘For David, the endless working hours would be over. His boss will offer him a part-time job that he can’t reject. David will be allowed to be at the work site four or six hours a day. And he will be with me in the rest of the time.’

‘Please, let me express my compliment on your meticulously made plan.’ Mr Petrovsky noticed that the cast catalogue was opened at the pages depicting a male and a female model wearing DLLCs. ‘And what kind of cast would you like to get? For example, two long leg casts would be ideal for you to regain his attention. This type of cast is so impressive and makes you so helpless! Especially, when supplemented with crutches or a wheelchair.’

DLLC: Dual long leg cast. Catalogue No: 037. Available in white, blue, green or red colour.

The models were seated in generously upholstered chairs. Their outstretched legs were wrapped in straight casts that started at the highest part of the thighs, and covering everything, they solidly spiralled down to the feet. The heels, finely casted, rested on footstools.

Although the dimension and the posture of the leg casts were identical, their material wasn’t. Bulky plaster shells shackled the girl’s legs, while the guy was pinned to his chair by two magnificently streamlined, blue fibreglass casts.

Michelle imagined herself having shells that bound both of her legs. Her lower limbs would be held firmly in place by inflexible dressings that would extend between the pelvis and the feet. They would be so enormous that they would conceal even her ‘broken’ big toes, and only the four toes would be free, laying on balcony-like platforms.

Restricted in two long leg casts... That means she would need a wheelchair or a pair of crutches... or both of them. She wouldn’t be able to bend her knees, she would constantly fight with the casts, dragging and pulling the dead weights, unable to flex the knees and the ankles. Even standing up would be hellishly hard.

Michelle shook the story out of her head. ‘Mr Petrovsky, you’re right. I’m not ready for big casts. I need something smaller that makes me...’ She paused, not finding the fitting word.

‘...that makes David understand that you are reliant on his devoted help all day and all night?’

Michelle nodded. ‘Exactly. Is it possible for me to get it?’

‘Put another way: is there a cast that is not too huge yet it makes you utterly helpless?’ Mr Petrovsky summarised the required features. ‘I think there is something for you on Page 5.’

Michelle instantly found the mentioned passage in the book, and blew a breath in amazement. ‘Wow... It’s so... out of ordinary.’

‘Do you like it?’

The pictures mesmerised her. ‘Oh, my goodness. It’s so small, but it makes your life extremely complicated.’

‘Do you want to have them?’ Mr Petrovsky asked.

Michelle grinned. ‘Absolutely.’

‘However, it’ll demand a great commitment on your part,’ he said as a final warning. ‘It’ll have an influence on every minute of your life. If you think it’s too confining, we can apply a reduced version.’

Michelle firmly put her finger on the picture. ‘No, I want to have it. It is perfect this way. I can survive four weeks with it. Especially, if David supports me.’

‘For six weeks, Mrs Rainer. If you pretend to have real medical casts, you'll have to wear them for one and a half months at least.’

‘Excellent. Six weeks with my husband is a way better than four weeks with him.’

‘And which colour do you prefer? White, black, green, red, blue, yellow, pink, orange?’

Michelle closed her eyes to visualise her future casts. Orange... is too orange. Pink is too girlish. Yellow is too flashy. Blue, moreover dark blue... might be good and suit her black hair and black eyes. Maybe, red... but it’s too hot. Green? If she would be a hard-core environmentalist... Black... is too Goth.

‘Keep it as simple as possible. It's not about fashion. Pure white, please,’ she said.

‘Okay.’ Mr Petrovsky wrote the catalogue number on a sheet of paper. ‘And the material? Plaster or fibreglass?’

‘What is the difference?’

‘Fibreglass is more modern, and it’s lighter than...’

‘Oh, no! David must see how heavy casts I must wear,’ she said quickly.

‘Then we should make up a credible story for your casts. Everybody’s first question would be “Oh, my God, what happened to you?” And you would need to have a good explanation.’

‘Do you have any good idea?’ she asked.

‘We’ve already drafted several story templates,’ Mr Petrovsky said. ‘They are mostly about accidents. If you would say that you were attacked or robbed, that would be a crime, and you would need documents from the police, too. That would make your and our life more difficult. What if your husband calls the cops to ask some questions about the investigation? This is why we insist on accident stories.’

‘So, I should tell everyone that I had an accident...,’ Michelle said.

‘It’s simple and credible, and everybody will feel sorry for you. Just one more thing! If anyone is interested in your X-rays or medical records, please don’t hesitate to call me. We’ve got an embedded junior assistant in a surgery department. He can produce any kind of medical document if needed.’

‘You seem to have thought of everything.’

‘We have to serve our well-established clientele,’ Mr Petrovsky said proudly.

Michelle beamed. ‘Thank you so much in advance for making these hilarious casts for me.’

‘Hopefully, they'll improve your marriage. However, you can still change your mind, if....’

Michelle shook her head firmly.

Mr Petrovsky stood up and gestured at the door. ‘Then please, follow me to our private cast room.’

to be continued

Next (Part 2) -- Contents -- Gallery Folder

Story Guide -- Story List