“Yes.  I’d probably panic too.  Once those doors are sealed, we’re going to leave you here, honey, helplessly plugged into my wonderful machine’s diligent attentions, all alone.”

“You will become a permanent enema victim, trapped in here, helpless and stringently bound while the machine fills and drains you in an endless and excruciating cycle. Think of it, my boy, during each of your 72 hours of uncomfortable wakefulness, you’ll receive about 48 gallons of agonizing horror stuffed into your bowels…then a short nap, a nice meal and you get to face it all again.  Every.  Single.  Day…  for the rest of your life!  Oh you will squirm and writhe against your bonds, no doubt, but it will do you no good.

Outside, you’ll still be able to gaze out that window, struggling to survive whatever monstrous fluid my wonderful little machine has stuffed you with, your bowels screaming for a release you will never, ever get, you can watch people coming and going to work.  They’ll be living normal lives, eating, sleeping, laughing, fucking …totally oblivious to the fact that you’re alone up here, strapped oh so tightly into my machine and endlessly suffering hour after hour after hour, day after day, week after week…for years, and years and YEARS!  You’ll scream and beg no doubt but that new gag of yours is permanent my boy.  No one will ever hear a word from you ever again my poor dear…just your muffled screams, squeals and groans!”

“You’re just a cute little piece of plumbing my dear…from now on and forever! Oh. Oh.  Stop that crying now, hon.  It won’t do you any good and besides, it’s not as if you’ve had enough experiences to really know what you’ll be missing!  Just try and be happy with your lot…as a helpless enema victim, daily stuffed and filled.  A wee bit uncomfortable sure but you’ll get used to it.  You hope! .....least you will be after a few…years!”