There doesn't seem to be a better way of knowing that you are not-in-control than really wanting to get out, and not being able to do a thing about it. A cattle prod is good motivation to try to get out. I expect that I will get a lot more than just the three promised and undelivered cattle prods from Harold on my next visit.
I don't remember all of the transitions from one restraint to another, but I liked the attention to detail. I never felt I was given an opportunity to escape. Twice, between the cell and the cage, the strap around my arms was so tight that they were partially numb by arrival. But given a choice of tighter or looser, I would go for tighter.
One of my "disappointments" is also related to the transition between play and work on the addition. I liked the work. I don't ever get as hot and sweaty at my desk job. I enjoyed being physically exhausted. But working on the addition in orange clothes with a very dangerous pick in-hand isn't the same as being chained with leg irons in a dark basement cell. I don't think there is a smooth way to make the transition between a useful physical laborer and a "dangerous prisoner". It seemed as if I was "free" too much. This is just part of the Pushy Bottom Syndrome, no reason to take it too seriously. I am well aware that I was involved in the longest, most intense, and best play of my life. And what do I want? More.
The other "disappointment" was finding keys and weapons within grasp. I really liked their "maximum security" mode. I was tempted to try to "switch roles" or hide the keys, but I decided that I didn't want to be the top or to get out. As cuffs go, Hyatt's are very comfortable. I figured if the "guards" found me with a key, they might switch to hinged handcuffs.
I certainly thought about being belligerent, challenging, and difficult. I believe that both Bob and Harold could have handled this very well. I suspect that they would enjoy it. Perhaps next time. I was trying to keep a low profile. I am confident that they can dish out more than I want, or perhaps that I can handle. Most of my visit seemed rough enough.
I don't remember ever being as intensely happy before. I know now that this is an aspect of my life that I have put aside for too long. It is important for me to play and play hard. Not all of the time, but sometimes.
I had considered getting in touch with Harold for about five years before our common friend John picked up the phone and connected us. I felt some intense sorrow because I had waited. It was as if I had put half of my life on hold without a good reason. Which is, of course, hogwash. I have had some really great times with other tops too!
I don't think Harold and Bob's play is for everybody. Their play is certainly one of control; they have it, you don't. My ideas and fantasies aren't so much top/bottom master/slave dom/sub as they are warden/prisoner. Think of six military police in full body armor extracting a sleepy, tear-gassed prisoner from a super-max prison cell at 0300 hours. I want to know that I have no control of the situation. I want to know I am safe too. I certainly didn't ask to leave MCF early. I hope that if I had, I would have gotten a resounding "NO! You're here for the duration". I would be remiss if I failed to point out that the possibility of getting a "If you don't want to be here, get the hell out" scares me a LOT more.
I would like to go back now, but my next visit is scheduled for 10 days in the spring of 2000. My second visit is likely to be different, very different. The addition will be done, so there will be no work. The "unfriendly" cell will be completed. It will have complete light and sound control, and a flush floor-mounted toilet/drain. There will be few, if any, clues to the time of day. Long-term, quality "care" there will be easier for Bob and Harold.
Some additional thoughts about MCF:
I had concerns about not having a pillow. It wasn't a problem. I always had one. I have sometimes tried to sleep without a pillow, but I haven't actually slept without a pillow for years.
Two other sleep depriving strategies never happened. One, was spending the night with my hands cuffed behind my back, but free to move about. The other, far more uncomfortable and dangerous, would be having my hands cuffed through the cell's bars.
Perhaps it's just not as much fun to play with a sleepy bottom.
The food could have been a lot worse. I was expecting the food to be a lot worse. I was hoping it was going to be worse.