Preface: Damn you, George Sanders!

“Am I really doing this?”  I silently ask myself as the team rolls cotton batting over my eyes, followed by the fiberglass casting tape. Two unseen hands smooth and pat the tape until it molds to the contour of my face. Only a thin line of light is visible at the very bottom of my range of vision, limiting my sight to a sliver of anything directly below me– which is the concrete floor of the garage. The voices of all five individuals encasing me in the fiberglass are muffled, thanks to the foam earplugs inserted “as a precaution”, and the cast around my head and chin made speaking difficult but not impossible.

Three minutes later, the crew applies the final strips of casting tape into place, and I’m fully encased in sixty rolls of ridged, medical-grade fiberglass.

The cast application took about 75 minutes.

Gathering the materials and team to use them took about 2 years.

The idea of becoming a living statue was born much earlier. On Wednesday, February 2, 1966, at approximately 7:52PM, to be exact.

Birth of a Kink.

That night, ABC -TV aired the “Instant Freeze” episode of Batman (Season 1, Episode 7), in which Batman and Robin were victims of an ice ray created by the dastardly Mr. Freeze (guest villain George Sanders), which turned our heroes into life-sized statues! (Okay, I guess technically they were ice cubes, but I was only a toddler so give me a break).

My younger brothers were terrified that the dynamic duo were finished. My older sister was worried that they would suffocate or shatter while in ice form– although her main concern was for Robin, since he was “dreamy” and Batman “was kind of a drag.”

It was obvious that I was the only member of my family experiencing what I now think of as a case of prepubescent FOMO, which I kept to myself since even at an early age I knew rooting for the bad guy wasn’t cool (no pun intended).

That episode stayed with me for many years and formed the basis for two key elements of my sexual chemistry: one was that bondage, especially extreme encasement bondage, would become a core kink in later life, and the second was that I could never again watch George Sanders in any film or TV show without getting an erection.

Fast Forward 50 Years

While I had realized I was gay back when I was in sixth grade, it took me another decade to fully accept and embrace my sexually (thank you, Catholicism). However,  it wasn’t until I moved to San Francisco that I understood the full range and diversity of kink that was readily available thanks to the internet and erectile dysfunction medication.

Visiting sites like AOL Online Chat Rooms and Craigslist taught me the “where’s” and “when’s” of finding men who shared my interests, and later sites like FetLife, NKP and BBRT provided the gateway to meet individuals who shared even my most fantastic fetishes.

That’s how I met four of the five people who agreed to encase me in my personal prison, each of whom have extensive experience in bondage using everything from steel and rope to insulation foam and medical supplies. In fact, they have been part of the team at  Serious Male Bondage  (www.seriousmalebondage.com)  which I encourage anyone  to bookmark and subscribe to. When I approached them about doing a full-body cast, they agreed immediately and enthusiastically.

The fifth member of the casting crew is the youngest and least experienced in casting bondage but is well-known in the SF leather scene. I’m so happy he was on the crew – he brought a lot of energy and enthusiasm to the day!

The Full-Body Casting Experience

Over the years, I’ve been mummified about two dozen times- usually in cling wrap followed by duct tape. I find mummification to be incredibly relaxing: the swaddling nature is somehow both comforting and isolating. I tend to carry a lot of stress, and the theory is that mummification pulls you out of that “control” mindset and says, “There’s nothing you can do until someone unwraps you, so relax and accept it.”  I’ve spent hours mummified (including  the entirety of Super Bowl 47, pre- and post-game coverage included). I usually drop easily into subspace subsequently drop off to sleep.

Full-body casting was a completely distinct experience. First, it’s a team sport. Fiberglass tape is soaked in water and applied to the “castee”  while wet. It hardens as it dries and it dries quickly. That meant a lot of verbal communication between the casters as they applied the tape, especially since they were doing a two-color cast.

When we started, I was sitting on the edge of a low , round coffee table and my legs extended. The casting started at my feet and rolled upward, so I was sitting when the crew cast my feet. Unfortunately, the fiberglass tape on the bottom of my feet bowed outward as it dried, so when I stood it felt like I was standing on two large rubber balls.

I also didn’t keep my knees as bent as I should have, which threw off my balance once they were casted. Picture it:  I’m now a 230-pound piece of fiberglass rock standing on two bubbles and unable to find my center of gravity. If not for the incredible casting crew, who kept me physically and emotionally balanced, I ‘d have needed a ”real” cast.

Another thing I wasn’t prepared for was the weight of the cast – which is substantial. I could feel that weight – that density – everywhere around me, cutting me off from people that were standing only a few feet away. Of course, being blind and somewhat deaf also added to that feeling, but it was an oddly isolating feeling. It felt like I was no longer in the room, replaced by the world’s largest and least useful paperweight.

Don’t misunderstand: the body cast was awesome. It’s uncomfortable, of course, and I had a moment of claustrophobia which I was able to tamp down. But it’s very isolating. And unlike mummification wraps, this cast is utterly unyielding. The wearer is immobile and helpless.

I spent the first half of my fiberglass interment lying face up on a small wooden coffee table  with chairs supporting my feet and legs, and the second half in a standing position with ceiling chains  under my arms supporting me. Standing was a better position for me since it took pressure off my back, and my body slid down into the cast by about half an inch, providing me with slightly more light.

Time passed. Slowly. I had lost track of how long it had taken to apply the tape, and I had no idea how long it might take to get me out of my custom sarcophagus. I was also aware that some of my casting crew needed to leave by a certain time and I wanted to be sure they had a chance to participate in the extraction. So, after being in the cast for two hours, we began that process of getting me out.

For Whom the Saw Whirls

Maybe the biggest rookie mistake I made was not understanding how the casting saws worked. In my mind, I pictured chainsaws or gore-covered circular saws wielded by experts who apprenticed for years with some of the greatest casting saw maestros of our generation before ever picking up a saw on their own. Imagine my surprise when I heard the casting crew telling the youngest and least experienced crewmate to “grab a saw and start working around the toes”.

As it happens, the team used multi-tool oscillating saws with durable plastic blades. Those little puppies cut cleanly through the fiberglass, and the team had a vacuum hose following the blade to suck up the particles immediately. Was it still terrifying? Yes, although it also tickled at times since the sawblades vibrated the cast and, by extension, me. I was especially appreciative of having the earplugs in when the saws came up around my head, since that sounded like my head was in a woodchipper.

I should note that I’d requested that they cut the cast so that I could put it back together as either a Halloween decoration or the world largest, ugliest, and most frustrating pinata. They did an excellent job salvaging the pieces!

The least expected and most surprising feeling I experienced that day was when the cast was cut open and I felt the pressure lift from my body. My first thought was that this is what it must feel like when the soul leaves the body and the weight of being a human being  falls away  (to be clear, I have no firsthand knowledge of how a soul departure might feel). It was a spiritual feeling of release and one that I’ve never experienced before. Quite remarkable.

And forty- five minutes later, I returned to the world of the ambulatory.

Takeaways

This was one of the coolest and most surprising experiences I’ve ever had – which I guess happens when to cross a 50+ year old item off your bucket list. The casting crew (as I call them) was incredible and worked their ass off to allow me to fulfill a constant (albeit it unusual) childhood fantasy. There aren’t many people that I’d trust to encase me in fiberglass, and even fewer who would enjoy doing it as much as these five individuals did, and I can’t thank them enough.

A full-body casting turned out not to be what I expected. It’s now three days after the casting and I’m still sore (and having the weirdest dreams). But it was extraordinary. I can’t describe why I feel more grounded and self-aware than I did before the casting (attempting to put these feelings into words would only diminish them), but I’m hopeful I can retain this sensation  for a long time.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off on my next bucket-list adventure. Does anyone know where I can find some quicksand?