Sunday, December 31, 2023
Saturday, December 30, 2023
Romance on a train part 3
Romance on a train
Part 3
June 4, night
The night hung heavy as I lay in bed, unable to shake the weight of concern for Alison and her injured ankle. The image of her on crutches, facing weeks of non-weight-bearing recovery, lingered in my mind, and a wave of additional sexual attraction swept over me.
On one hand, empathy for her discomfort and the challenges ahead filled me with a sense of responsibility and care. The tenderness with which I had arranged the pillows to support her injured foot and ankle replayed in my thoughts.
Yet, as I gently lifted Allison's injured ankle to rest upon the pillows, I couldn't help but appreciate the delicate texture of the ace bandages under my fingers. The act of offering comfort became a tactile and sexual connection, a reminder of the intricate dance between care and sensuality that often overlap when caring for somebody.
Yet, amidst my genuine concern, I had conflicting feelings since she came so close to breaking her ankle. The beautifully wrapped ankle and foot, could have been a lovely short leg cast. Either way I was so turned on and fascinated by the vulnerability she now showed with her non weight bearing ankle.
Her well-being always came first but the delicate image of her on crutches came very close second.
***
I lay in bed, tormented by the unintended consequences of my playful charade. The image of Jay's concern, the gentle support he provided as he arranged pillows to cradle my wrapped ankle and foot, weighed heavily on my conscience. What began as a lighthearted sexual tease had evolved into a situation I couldn't easily back down from.
The reality of my exaggerated sprained ankle loomed, the weight of the bandages felt both physically and emotionally binding and his instant full erection that I noticed yesterday closed the loop. As the night wore on, my inability to retreat from the charade intensified. I tossed and turned, grappling with a mix of guilt for the genuine worry I'd caused Jay and an acknowledgement that admitting the truth now would only compound the complexity of the situation.
We were both awake when I "unintentionally" slid my sprained ankle along the inside of his calf. The simple touch of my bandaged foot and ankle was enough. He slid closer behind me, his hand on my thigh spooning against me.
Within seconds the toes at the end of my bandage could feel his hard penis, he tried to touch my sprained ankle but I took him by the wrist and moved his hand on my small breasts. Jay teased my nipples slowly so I bent my knee even more to rub his penis with my bandaged foot. He was so hard I was afraid he would cum right on my sprained ankle.
He carefully turned me to face him and within seconds he was in me. I let out a moan from the lovely stimulation. He was pushing in and out while my injured ankle was on his shoulder. It was amazing the sensations I felt through my body.
He touched the ace bandages and I howled at the same time, not from pain in my ankle obviously but from the orgasm, I couldn't feel anything except the warm simulation and the hot cum into my vagina. He was so loud as he came into me like never before.
***
June 5
As I prepared to leave for the office and catch the train, my attention was drawn to Alison, gracefully navigating the morning on her crutches. I wasn't sure but I swear she was wearing our daughter's shorts. They were barely covering her bottom and a snug-fitting t-shirt, no bra that hinted at the incredible sex we had the night before.
Her injured ankle, carefully elevated in bandages. Despite the casual and new style of her outfit, there was an undeniable beauty in the way she moved on her crutches. She looked like a mother who faced challenges with both grace and a touch of sensuality.
Before I left, I pressed a gentle kiss to Alison's lips, silently appreciating the beauty of my injured woman I cherished. Stepping into the day, the image of Alison, standing on her crutches lingered, casting a warm glow on the routine of my morning commute.
To my surprise, as I entered the train, my eyes were drawn to the familiar presence of the elegant woman from the previous day. A free seat faced her, inviting me to join her in the shared space, but a flash of my wife on her crutches guided me to choose a spot towards the back of the train instead.
As I settled into the seat, I had a strategic vantage point that allowed me to catch a glimpse of the back of her head and her lowered heel under the seat. I could only see one high heel shoe, it was a lower heel than the one she had on yesterday. I imagined her pantyhose covered legs and the subtle curve of her crossed legs.
While I was day-dreaming of Allison's image on crutches, there was a moment when the sexy lady in my mind seemed to transform, and the figure on crutches became the mysterious stranger and at the same time Allison took on the role of the elegantly dressed woman seated just a few rows ahead.
While turning her head in my direction. Our eyes met, and for a brief moment, a spark of recognition and curiosity passed between us. As our eyes met for only a few seconds, she graced me with a beautiful smile that seemed to light up the train car.
To my total surprise and excitement, she rocked my world when she gracefully shifted in her seat and re-positioned her crutches... why crutches?
***
Navigating the bustling train station on crutches, my right lower leg in a cast, presented some challenges. The pencil skirt and blouse combination draped elegantly and was a striking contrast to a business woman on crutches with a leg cast. But the reality was more challenging. Each step in the tight confine of the pencil skirt was a test.
The sound of my crutches against the station floor echoed around me, drawing occasional glances from passersby. Despite the attention, my focus remained fixed on the platform, careful not to fall plus the train would arrive soon.
Upon reaching the platform, I sought out a suitable seat holding on to my crutches, my cast resting on top of my left foot and my exposed toes in full display.
I was approached by another businesswoman. "Your skirt is absolutely stunning! Where did you get it?" she exclaimed with a friendly smile.
I returned the smile, grateful for the compliment. "Thank you! I actually found it at a boutique downtown. They have some unique pieces. Allison's treasures."
She nodded approvingly. "And those pantyhose! They complete the look perfectly. You've got such a great sense of style."
As we chatted about fashion, she couldn't help but stare at the cast on my lower leg inside my pantyhose. She was clearly curious, and she asked,
"What happened to your leg? A broken leg can't be part of your fashion statement, can it?" She asked while rubbing her wrist as if she had recently injured it. I move up my lower right leg to give her a better view.
"Well, I actually broke my leg during a daring skiing adventure on breathtaking slopes in Canada. Picture this, it was a crisp winter day in Quebec, and the powdery snow beckoned for an exhilarating run down the slopes. However, one unexpected twist, a miscalculated turn, and there I was losing control and flipping over, legs twisted with a broken leg in the midst of the snowy wilderness. Quite the unexpected turn, but I suppose it adds a unique flair to my style, doesn't it?"
She gasped, "A skiing crash, wow. How adventurous! You're taking it all in stride, though. I must say, it certainly does add a unique touch to your overall look. You are beautiful"
As we continued chatting about my supposed skiing misadventure, I couldn't help but discreetly examine the shoes and legs of the beautiful lady in front of me. From the elegant cut of her skirt to the sophistication of her heels. But my attention was on her wrist that she kept rubbing.
"Well, here's my train. Have a great day!"
"Thank you! And good luck with that broken leg. Take care!" she responded, her gaze briefly fixed on my cast.
I stood, positioned my crutches, and struggled up the stairs, my pencil skirt presenting a small challenge to the steep steps. As I looked around for him, he seemed elusive. Crossing the train and taking a seat, I began to wonder if our brief encounter had come to an end.
About four minutes later, it was like I could feel him staring behind my neck. I turned and saw him. A smile naturally spread across my face. Wanting to ensure he noticed, I subtly re-positioned my crutches so that he could see them, creating a silent invitation for him to join me.
Romance on a train
Part 4 to come
K
Friday, December 29, 2023
Thursday, December 28, 2023
Romance on a train part 2
Romance on a train
Part 2
June 4, evening
As the train doors closed with a gentle hiss, I couldn't wait to see her again since we locked eyes on the platform. Her black dress and the black high heel pumps had left an incredible mark on me.
Walking through the train, I searched for the mysterious woman. However, each empty seat and vacant space only deepened the realization that she wasn't on the train. The air seemed to lose its charged electricity, replaced by a sense of sadness.
Settling into a seat alone, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to the beautiful lady. The memories of the cat and mouse dance played like a silent movie in my mind. The train rattled on, but my thoughts were anchored in the moments we shared that morning.
As the landscape blurred outside the window, I found myself caught in a reverie of what might have been. She had vanished or worked late and missed the last train back. The clicking of her high heel was now just an echo in my memory. The train became just a vessel carrying me home.
The train pulled into the familiar station in New York, and as the doors opened, I stepped out onto the platform. The city's hustle and bustle surrounded me, but my thoughts were anchored in the memories of a mysterious lady one last time for the day.
Exiting the station, I made my way to the parking lot, where my BMW patiently awaited. The evening lights reflected off the sleek surface of the car, casting a warm glow in the dimming city-scape. I was just sitting behind the wheel, before getting home.
The engine purred to life, I sat in the comfortable cocoon of my car, the city sounds muted by the well-insulated interior. The leather seats cradled me comfortably. The city's skyline served as a backdrop, a silent witness. The glow of streetlights and the distant hum of traffic created a contemplative atmosphere.
***
As the evening settled in I was waiting for my husband. My name is Alison, I'm a 41-year-old stay-at-home mom, who decided to add a touch of surprise to Jay's day. With our daughter away at college, it seemed like the perfect time for a little playful teasing.
Wearing my comfortable jeans and a casual t-shirt, I hatched a mischievous plan. Jay had always had an appreciation for ladies' feet and sometimes women on crutches, and tonight, I thought, why not indulge in a bit of fun?
In the comfort of our home, I quietly removed my right shoe and sock, carefully elevating my foot to create the illusion of an injury. Positioned nearby, the crutches patiently awaited, ready to be the props in my playful charade. A mischievous grin adorned my face at the mere thought of Jay's forthcoming reaction.
Earlier that day, I had ventured to our local pharmacy on a mission to acquire a pair of crutches and ace bandages for my impromptu act. Back home I decided to wrap my right foot and ankle. The task unfolded with care, two rolls of Ace bandages becoming tools.
Each turn of the bandage was securing my foot and ankle in a snug embrace. I was surprised how nice it felt. The challenge ahead was evident: to gracefully navigate and move, all the while maintaining a stance that spared my right foot from bearing any weight.
In anticipation, I stood and leaned on the crutches, fully embracing the role of an injured mom, with a pretended injury. The thrill of the impromptu act was amplified by the knowledge that it would undoubtedly catch Jay off guard.
I don't think he ever saw me as a sexy injured MILF on crutches.
As I practised this newfound skill, the click-clack of the crutches against the floor became a playful prelude to the surprise awaiting my husband. The house, a silent witness to my antics, transforming an ordinary evening into something totally surprising for Jay but also me.
As the minutes ticked by, I got scared and wondered how he'd react to my little surprise. Would he be puzzled, concerned, or perhaps even amused?
The sound of the front door opening signalled Jay's arrival. I held my breath, suppressing a giggle as I prepared for the unveiling of my little act. The element of surprise was a gift, and I couldn't wait to see the look on his face.
With a playful twinkle in my eye, I greeted him, "Hey there, hope you had a better day than me?"
I pretended to moan lightly as I observed his expression, eagerly anticipating the moment when he would notice my crutches, and the one exposed wrapped foot and ankle.
***
As I stepped through the front door, a sense of familiarity greeted me. The comforting ambiance of home and I expected the usual evening routine. Little did I know that a surprise awaited me, from my poor injured wife.
In our living room, the atmosphere seemed charged with a subtle anticipation. Alison stood before me, pain in her eye as she casually leaned on a brand new pair of crutches. The surprise instantly caught my attention, and I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and look at her right foot wrapped and off the floor.
"OMG, honey, what's going on?" I inquired, my gaze flickering from her face to the crutches, then down to her exposed and delicate toes.
Alison moved forward to greet me, "Nothing serious, just a bad sprain Jay. How was your day?" I couldn't quite decipher the seriousness of her injury.
As my eyes took in the scene again, I couldn't help but notice that her right foot was totally non weight bearing. A playful scenario unfolded in my mind, and the realization slowly dawned, Alison was so beautiful on her crutches but I needed to know more about that sprained ankle.
"I'm sorry, Alison. I hope you're not in too much pain," I said with genuine concern etched on my face.
The unexpected surprise injected a twist into our evening, the next few days or weeks possibly. Then, the memory of the sexy stranger in her tight fitting dress and high heel stiletto flashed in my mind but this time she was moving through the train on my wife's crutches.
OMG what a sight.
In sync with my sexual vision, Alison leaned over on her crutches and kissed my lips. The walls of our home echoed with the sexual tension I felt, the tension I created in my mind. I should be worried about Alison's injury, not the stranger on the train or how sexy my wife was on crutches.
As she navigated on crutches, the weight of Alison's sprained ankle lingered from that unexpected turn of events
"How bad is it?" I inquired, my concern deepening.
With a solemn expression, she replied, "Grade 3 sprain. It's quite severe."
As I absorbed the weight of Alison's revelation, a sombre realisation settled in. I was concerned, and in that moment, it dawned on me that the consequence of a third-degree sprain meant weeks on crutches, with the added challenge of non-weight-bearing. The lines between my sexual attraction to her lovely feet, a badly sprained ankle, weeks on beautiful crutches blurred..
But...Maybe I could...No get that out of your mind Jay.
***
What grade 3, why did I make it such a bad injury? I watched Jay's concern right away, maybe I should have said 1st degree.
"Come on, let's get you to the couch and elevate that ankle," he suggested, guiding me gently.
Guided by my crutches, I carefully moved towards the couch, and Jay, with a gentle touch, arranged pillows to cradle and support my wrapped ankle and foot. His tenderness was palpable, and in the midst of my apparent injury, I couldn't help but notice him staring at my bandaged ankle and foot, he was so turned on sexually, it was impossible to hide it.
"Doctor said three weeks, maybe more on my crutches" I shared with a feigned weariness.
"How did you sprained your ankle so bad?" His eyes never left my exposed toes and my eyes never left the shape of his hard penis inside his pants.
"Just a clumsy misstep while I was out shopping. You know how it goes, I answered our daughter's call while still walking..." My answer held a touch of playfulness, attempting to keep the atmosphere light despite the apparent severity of the situation.
I was clearly losing control of the situation and I loved it.
Romance on a train
Part 3 to come
K
Wednesday, December 27, 2023
Tuesday, December 26, 2023
Romance on a train part 1
Romance on a train
Part 1
June 4, morning
As I settled into my seat aboard the Metro-North Railroad Hudson Line, the hum of anticipation buzzed in the air. My name is Jay, I'm a 45-year-old marketing executive from New York, en route for a crucial meeting with a potential new client in the scenic town of Hudson.
The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels was the only sound breaking the stillness until, like a gentle breeze, she walked by. She was a sophisticated woman, I guessed mid 40s and she caught my attention from the corner of my eye.
I swear it felt like choreography where each step was a delicate dance, her heels clicking on the floor of the train. The sway of her hips told a story of confidence, and as she passed, a captivating fragrance trailed behind her.
Her dress hugged to every curve just right. It's like the dress was tailor-made for her, it's swirled in response to her movements, creating a sexual aura around her. Unable to resist the magnetic pull that she had, I couldn't help but steal glances from behind. She moved with purpose, each step in control.
I mean, to be totally honest, I have no idea what the name of her dress was but...it was a masterpiece of tailoring, accentuating her very feminine figure in a way that was simultaneously modest, alluring and oh so sensual.
She found her seat and as she settled in, the anticipation in the air seemed to intensify. I watched as she crossed her long legs, executing the movement slowly. The high heel dangled ever so slightly and she rubbed her right foot, adding a touch of playfulness to the scene.
The way she crossed her legs was a captivating spectacle, an invitation that could have only been surpassed if she was in a beautiful and stylish short leg cast. But eh we can't have everything.
Her fingers, without any wedding ring, caressed her pantyhose covered leg in a tender, almost teasing way. It was a gesture of self-assurance at the minimum or a silent declaration.
The train carried us forward, but at that moment, time seemed to stand still. This fleeting encounter would be etched in my memory, where every detail, from the delicate steps to the subtle caresses of her sexy leg and foot, became a part of a romantic overture on this train.
***
The train hummed along the tracks. My name is Emily. I'm a 44-year-old CEO of a private and expensive resort and I was en route to a meeting that held the promise of new partnerships.
I was dressed in a Varucci pencil dress. That dress is a true gem in my wardrobe, sophistication with a touch of vintage look. It was black and it carried an air of refinement. The classic pencil dress design gracefully embraces my curves, creating a chic appearance.
The dress stops just above my knee, offering a perfect blend of modesty and charm for this important meeting.
I stepped into the carriage, my high heel stiletto pumps were a bit too loud for me against the floor. As I walked by, I noticed the man sitting on the side stealing furtive glances at me.
The knowledge of his eyes tracing my every step sent a thrill through me. There was a pull in the air, an unspoken connection that transcended the ordinary. With every step I took, I teased him, allowing the black fabric of my dress to accentuate the graceful movements.
The soft sway of my hips was even more intentional, a silent invitation to a spectacle that only the two of us shared. The subtle fragrance of my perfume lingered in my wake, leaving a trace of mystery that heightened the anticipation.
Finding my seat, I sensed his gaze still lingering on me. Deliberately, I crossed my legs, letting my stiletto pump dangle. It was the perfect moment to discreetly rub my ankle, which, just six weeks ago, had been encased in a dark blue cast. As the train approached its final stop, I realized that the explanation for the leg cast would have to wait for another time.
In a strange way, It was a dance of seduction I kinda did with each movement of my long legs and feet. My beautiful tight fitting dress was elegant but also whispered that I was a woman that knew the power of sexual seduction.
As I settled into my seat with my back to him, I knew I would possibly never see him again. The train carried us forward and we shared this moment. I had removed my wedding ring while my fingers traced a path along my leg in a deliberate caress.
Caressing my pantyhose had been a tease, I will admit that dear readers.
***
The train glided into the Hudson station, and as the doors opened with a soft hiss, the anticipation building through the ride reached its crescendo. I felt a surge of excitement as I waited for the beautiful woman to exit the train. Her black dress and heels had left an indelible impression on my mind, and the prospect of seeing her once again sent a flutter through my senses.
As the passengers disembarked, I stood by, my gaze fixed on the door, eager for that moment when she would step onto the platform in a classic cast and crutches. But in reality, there she was looking professional and out of my league.
But still at first my eyes traced the elegant arc of her feet, her high heel stiletto pumps leading the way with every step. The tight fitting dress hugged her silhouette, emphasizing the gentle curve of her legs and hips, with each stride.
As she approached, I couldn't resist the subtle rise and fall of her large breasts that drew my attention, in addition to everything that captured my imagination on the train. The anticipation mounted, and time seemed to slow as I marvelled at the exquisite details that had eluded me during our initial encounter from behind.
Her red lips, had a hint of a mysterious smile, held the promise of sexual stories. I couldn't help but be attracted to this woman even though I'm married. Her eyes, framed by the delicate strands of hair that caressed her face, were lovely like everything else.
And then, our eyes met. The connection was electric, the tight fitting black dress, the sexy high heel shoes...all faded into the background as our gaze locked, bridging the distance that had separated us moments ago. This was the woman who had teased and captivated me throughout the train ride.
***
As I descended from the train, I couldn't help but feel a heightened awareness of his presence. A casual glance over my shoulder confirmed what my intuition had already sensed...his gaze was still fixed on me, all of me. The connection we had forged during the ride lingered, and the prospect of facing him head-on sent a thrilling shiver through me.
The game of cat and mouse, a dance of glances and hidden connections, had been a long-lost thrill in my life. It had been two years since I last played that sensual game. After losing my husband to cancer, the willingness to participate had eluded me.
Maybe I was ready.
Stepping off the train, I cautiously set foot on the platform, mindful of a past misstep that had resulted in a fractured ankle. A seemingly simple movement had morphed into a six-week ordeal, a blue cast, crutches, and the burden of non-weight bearing. The memory lingered, turning a routine action into caution.
But there he was and our eyes met, and in that moment, the unspoken connection transformed into a tangible force. I smiled, I was breathing faster and the rise and fall of my chest beneath my dress echoed the heartbeat of a story that was waiting to be written.
Approaching Jay, the magnetic pull intensified, drawing me nearer to the man who had become an unexpected part of today's train journey narrative. However, I chose to walk past him, as I wasn't quite ready for what awaited.
Romance on a train
Part 2 to come
K
Monday, December 25, 2023
Sunday, December 24, 2023
Saturday, December 23, 2023
Romance on a train. Prologue
Hello dear readers
Step into a world where mysteries deepen, and connections unfold in the most unexpected ways. In this new story, the narrative revolves around Jay, Emily, and Alison, each carrying a story waiting to be unveiled between fact and fiction.
As we delve into the intricacies of their lives, a romantic journey takes shape, filled with encounters that spark curiosity, subtle mysteries that linger in the air, and unexpected sexual connections that bind them together.
Jay, a married man navigating the paths of his responsibilities, encounters Emily, an enigmatic and sexy woman whose presence introduces playful banter and shared moments into his reality and fetish world.
Meanwhile, Alison, Jay's beautiful wife, remains at home, blissfully unaware of the layers of intrigue weaving around her. The unfolding narrative holds secrets, leaving readers eager to uncover the twists and turns that fate has in store for these characters.
Join me as I explore the love and sexual life of these living personas, where love, mystery, and unexpected connections await us at every turn.
Hope you enjoy this lovely love story with a twist.
Karine
Friday, December 22, 2023
Prelude to Darkness conclusion
Prelude to Darkness
Conclusion
When the car door opened, Amelia got out gracefully, showing her experience being in a leg cast for so long. Her bright red cast, a symbol of so much, caught the soft morning light. Standing beside her, I offered a hand for support.
With a thankful smile, Amelia reached for her crutches, handling them gently as if they were a part of her, what they were becoming. Her steps became over the months a graceful dance, the sound of crutches echoing her journey.
The air buzzed with new energy as Amelia, was a living example of bouncing back from a terrible accident. Navigating the winding corridors of the hospital, we made our way to her appointment. There was a palpable sense of anticipation, mixture of excitement and concern for what lay ahead.
Amelia, leaning on her crutches defied the challenges of her long leg cast with her confidence. Her red cast still drew attention, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.
"I'm so happy you're here with me Vincent. Mondays with Dr. Robinson always feels like an unpredictable event, she is afterall working for my dad."
I smiled in response, my heart skipping a beat. "You know me, always up for an adventure, especially when it involves Satan's daughter and her mysterious doctor."
"You do have a point there."
One last hallway until we reached Dr. Robinson's office. The door swung open, and the doctor greeted us with a warm smile.
"Good morning, Vincent. Amelia. Ready for the next cast?" Dr. Robinson's voice was soothing, carrying a blend of professionalism and familiarity.
"Always, Dr. Robinson. What's the plan for today?" Amelia inquired as she settled into the table, Dr. Robinson turned her attention to me. "Vincent, how's the arm and thumb? Any issues since our last encounter?"
I flexed my fingers, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. "Not bad, Dr. Robinson. The cast has been doing its job."
She nodded approvingly, her gaze holding a subtle warmth. "That's good to hear. If you ever need adjustments or have concerns, don't hesitate to reach out. Now, let's focus on the main event today."
In the midst of the doctor's comments, my eyes couldn't help but appreciate the sight of Amelia. Her fitted jean skirt, blouse, the vibrant red cast, her hair elegantly gathered in a bun, framed her face with a few loose strands. And those Nike shoe on her good leg, undeniably stylish.
Dr. Robinson used a cast saw to take off Amelia's red cast. As the layers came off, you could see healing bruises and marks from past surgeries on her leg. With practised ease, Dr. Robinson applied the new cast, the black contrasting with the whiteness of Amelia's skin under the cast. A protective cast shoe completed the ensemble, adding a new touch.
"Alright, Amelia, this cast is designed to offer more support while allowing you to gradually put some weight on the leg. It's a step forward," .
Amelia grinned, happy of the transformation. "A black cast with a cast shoe, I quite like it."
As Dr. Robinson made adjustments to the cast shoe. The transition from a full leg cast to a shorter, more mobile version marked progress in Amelia's journey. The once-confined knee was evolving into new adaptability.
With the appointment concluded, Amelia moved with the sleek black cast off the floor, knee bent until she felt secure to walk on it. The sex that night was...amazing...fantastic with both her legs wrapped around me while I inserted my casted thumb inside her...for the first time.
Eight months later, Amelia and I stood at the entrance of a quaint church, poised to embark on a new chapter of our lives. The air was charged with whispers and curious glances, for the daughter of Satan violating the sacred space.
Amelia, radiant in a breathtaking bridal gown, glided down the aisle with grace on her two long and healthy legs that mesmerized onlookers and my family, couldn't help but be enchanted by the beauty that radiated from the bride.
Dressed in a classic black suit, I watched in awe as Amelia approached. Her hair cascaded in loose curls, a delicate tiara adorning her head. A crimson bouquet of roses complemented the ensemble, and her piercing eyes locked onto mine with unwavering love.
As we exchanged vows, mysterious echoes surrounded us, a reminder of Amelia's supernatural lineage. The priest, unfazed, pronounced us husband and wife. Her gown accentuated her curves and baby bump In a heartwarming twist, Amelia cradled her eight-month pregnant belly, a testament to the unique nature of our love.
Instead of the traditional "I do," she whispered, "We do," with a mischievous glint in her eyes. I, caught off guard, looked at her with a mix of pure joy. Amelia gazed into my eyes and said,
"It's a boy, my love. Satan's grandson..."
The end
K
Thursday, December 21, 2023
Wednesday, December 20, 2023
Prelude to Darkness part 7
Prelude to Darkness
Part 7
As Satan shook my hand, I locked eyes with Amelia, anticipating nothing out of the ordinary. However, an unexpected twist accompanied the gesture. A sudden, agonizing jolt shot through my right arm, and I couldn't suppress a gasp. As I looked down, I noticed Satan's parting gift, my dislocated thumb and broken arm. His words, delivered with otherworldly charm, echoed in my ears,
"Merry Christmas, Vincent. Imagine what I would do to you if you hurt my daughter"
After Satan's departure, leaving Amelia and me in a quiet corner to reflect on the night's peculiar turn of events. Her gaze flickered between my face and the slight discomfort evident as I cradled my broken arm.
"Oh Vincent, I'm so sorry" she began, her voice a delicate blend of curiosity and excitement, "how does it feel?"
I winced, "Well, it's not exactly pleasant. Satan has quite the handshake."
Amelia's lips curved into a mischievous smile while she intentionally rubbed her broken leg against me. "Mmm, I bet. But you know, Vincent, there will be something attractive about seeing you in a medical cast."
Amelia was clearly interested, excited, and perhaps something deeper. The notion of me in a long arm cast was clearly turning her on sexually.
"Would you mind if I had a closer look? I swear I won't hurt you" she asked, her eyes glinting with a playful curiosity.
I nodded, offering my injured arm for her inspection. As she gently examined the affected area, I couldn't help but wonder about the connection between us. Amelia leaned over and her red perfect lips traced the contours of my broken arm sending waves of pain, then her tongue darted my dislocated thumb... The lines between desire and reality blurred once more. Everything about this woman was on the edge.
Dr. Steffi Robinson, Satan's private physician, emerged from the shadows like he did earlier, the atmosphere took on a surreal quality. Her eyes locked onto my injured arm and she gestured for me to sit, and as I settled into a chair, anticipation filled the air. With a gentle yet precise touch, Dr. Robinson meticulously manipulated my dislocated thumb, delicately guiding it back into its proper position with precision, expertise and pain.
Once satisfied with the alignment, "Vincent, I would like to continue the treatment in a more private setting. Follow me to my room; we need to apply a long arm cast for optimal healing."
Once inside the room, Amelia assisted me in removing my shirt, revealing the injured arm. First, she applied a layer of soft cotton padding to the skin. Next, she selected the roll of fibreglass casting tape, dripped in water, and removed the excess water. As she began wrapping the tape around my arm, a sense of warmth and security enveloped me. Gradually forming the structure of the cast, protecting my broken arm and thumb.
Dr. Robinson's hands moved with conviction, navigating the contours of my arm, the solid white cast took shape, encasing my arm from my hand and thumb to way past my elbow. As Dr. Robinson secured the final layers, she glanced up with a reassuring smile.
Amelia, standing by my side on her crutches, observed the process with fascination. She leaned in, her lips inches away from my ear. "Vincent," she whispered, her breath caressing my ear, "I'm so sorry my dad did that to you"
Her fingers delicately grazed the edge of my cast, and I felt a current of energy coursing through me. With my broken arm and Amelia's broken leg, we made our way to the waiting limo. Amelia on her crutches was beside me with a soft click of her crutches against the floor. She leaned in and kissed me.
As we approached the sleek black limo, I carefully eased myself into the back seat. Amelia, with her broken leg, followed suit, navigating the confined space with ease. She slid her cast into the limo, the sleek surface of her cast brushing against the upholstery. The soft glow from the interior lights accentuated the contours of her cast, creating a silhouette. With a subtle twist and turn, she settled into the seat, her crutches beside her.
Once we arrived home, Amelia, still on her crutches, looked exhausted, her face reflecting the toll of navigating the festivities with a broken leg. I followed her towards the bedroom, I noticed the fatigue in her eyes but the sexy red dress still clung to her every curve.
Once in the bedroom, I helped Amelia sit on the edge of the bed, I leaned her crutches against the nightstand. The anticipation of what was to come painted a soft smile on her face.
With delicate movements, I knelt down, my cast tracing the line of her leg cast. Her eyes met mine, sexual desire dancing within them. Carefully, I unzipped her dress and she lifted up her arms and I pulled it off over her head. I kissed her and she looked so desirable in her bra and lace garter belt attached to her stoking.
I lifted her broken leg, her cast in my hand and removed the small black sock, kissing her exposed toes at the end of her red cast. Then I did the same to her good leg, pulling off the high heel pump before removing her stoking. Holding on to her foot with my broken arm, I spent a few minutes on her good foot, licking and kissing her arch and toes.
She untied my pants and my penis applied pressure against her vagina. She moaned as I slowly penetrated her, my large penis going deeper into her. She pulled herself up by my broken arm and we kissed while I slowly and gently pleased her. She groaned and moaned in my mouth, biting my lips. I started to go faster and faster, my penis was pulsating inside her. Her eyes were closed when her orgasm shook her all over and I came inside her.
As the morning light filtered through the curtains, we found ourselves seated at the coffee table, sipping on freshly brewed coffee. Amelia, on the chair with her crutches by her side, took a sip from her cup while her long red cast peeked out beneath the robe.
Our conversation turned to the unique characters we encountered at Satan's Christmas party. The siren and demon, and the sexy wheelchair-bound lesbian couple. Amelia's eyes sparkled as she recalled the details, they had made quite an impression on her.
"The poor siren with her broken arms was so beautiful."
She glanced at my broken arm, her gaze lingering on the cast. "Speaking of which," she said, her tone teasing and her fingers on my broken thumb , "you were quite a hit with your own special accessory. How's the arm feeling today?"
I flexed my fingers, testing my mobility. "Not too bad, considering. Dr. Robinson did her magic."
"You know, it's fascinating how everyone at the party had their own story, their own struggles."
"True. All sexy within their own burdens."
Amelia's gaze shifted to her leg cast, and she smiled. "Speaking of burdens, Monday is when I get my new cast."
Prelude to Darkness
conclusion to come
K
Tuesday, December 19, 2023
Monday, December 18, 2023
Sunday, December 17, 2023
Prelude to Darkness part 6
Prelude to Darkness
Part 6
The sleek black limo came to a smooth stop in front of the opulent entrance to Satan's Xmas party. Anticipating Amelia's graceful exit, I instinctively moved to assist. The chauffeur opened the door. Amelia, in her sexy red dress and one high heel shoe, delicately slid her long, broken leg out of the limo.
"Vincent," she purred, extending a hand toward me. "Assistance, please." Like she needed help but I offered a hand anyway. "You've got it."
With careful precision, Amelia stepped out, her red cast grazing my leg. As her heels met the ground, she shifted gracefully onto her crutches, a movement perfected by weeks of navigating the world on her own terms. The festive allure of the infernal party awaited, and I couldn't help but think at how beautiful she looked.
"Ready for a night in the depths of indulgence, Vincent?" she teased.
"More than ready. Lead the way."
And so, with Amelia guiding the way on her crutches, we entered Satan's soirée, where the boundary between sin and celebration blurred in a symphony of desires, fetishes and forbidden delights.
As we walked into the room, a first couple immediately drew her attention as Amelia and I strolled through her crutches tapping on the polished floor, she was fascinated with the captivating couple.
"Vincent", she mused, her eyes fixated on the scene, "The demon in a Tuxedo with full leg braces, and his sexy young succubus with those two short walking casts. It's like she's dancing using her 2 walking sticks for support."
It's so hard to describe but this young woman was rocking this adorable dress with two broken legs, in short walking casts, and she was using these fancy walking sticks to hobble around.
"They're quite a sight, aren't they?" I remarked, sensing Amelia's genuine interest.
"Absolutely,her existence as a succubus provides desire and darkness. Like in my life fate dealt her a peculiar hand but that gown... simply exquisite."
In another corner of the room, wearing festive colors, a short man in a serpent costume danced with a siren in a tight-fitting suit. Amelia nudged me, saying, "Vincent, look at them. I think she's already fallen in her one-legged siren costume."
The beautiful siren had two broken arms, one in a short cast and the other in a full arm cast. Despite her inability to move, she danced with her partner, who supported her balance. She was a vision rubbing him all over with her broken arm, he was so close to orgasm that Amelia was unable to contain her intrigue and walked to the couple on her crutches.
"Hello, lovely Amelia, so nice to see you again" the siren greeted as Amelia approached the dancing couple on her crutches. A subtle smile adorned Amelia's face as she engaged in conversation.
Amelia, unable to contain her sexual attraction, "Your dance is mesmerizing with two broken arms. How did you break them?"
The siren smiled and with her cast caressed Amelia left breast, "Ah, it was a dance with fate, my dear. A bad fall orchestrated by your father. But tell me, how did you end up with those stylish crutches?" Amelia's smile grew, and she playfully moved closer, her fingers delicately tracing the contours of the siren's hard casts.
"Oh, a hit-and-run artist left me originally with two broken legs, but this one," she pointed to her sexy long red cast, "refused to heal properly."
My eyes were captivated by the broken arms of the siren, seamlessly blending with my girlfriend's body. Rubbing from her tight behind to her round breasts, the sight was so erotic. Amelia turned back to me and smiled, then she leaned down and kissed her, still looking at me for a reaction.
Satan's daughter had clearly been turned on by the results of her dad's action.
I watched as she moved her hard cast forward between the siren's legs and softly pressed her lips against hers at the same. The younger lady opened them up ever so slightly. I stared at the red cast, her wet vagina leaving a trace, rubbing against it, she was moaning quietly. Their tongues met and the siren came all over my girlfriend's broken leg.
As the demon and the siren moved away, Amelia, leaning on her crutches, turned her attention toward me. Her eyes sparkled with pure lust after that encounter. She moved closer and the air around us charged with a sexual energy.
On our way to meet her father, we came across 2 beautiful women. There was nothing erotic or even sensual around them, the atmosphere was one of grace and kindness, their genuine smiles radiating warmth.
The first woman was sitting in her wheelchair with both legs broken and beside her was her life partner, who, unfortunately, had lost the use of her legs in the same car accident. Despite the challenges life had thrown at them, their love was evident in the way they interacted.
Amelia, on her crutches, approached them and a conversation started. The woman with both legs in casts shared their story.
"It all happened so fast in a car accident, a moment that changed our life."
The second woman rolled closer and with her hand on one of the long cast of her wife, her eyes filled with vulnerability, added, "And my partner has been my rock, helping me navigate this new reality, even with 2 badly broken legs"
Amelia nodded, her eyes reflecting solidarity with the two women. "God has a way of testing us, but it also opens doors to remarkable connections."
As we approached a table, Amelia struggled in her tight fitting dress and her long cast to sit down, so I offered a supportive hand. The smile on her lips spoke volumes about the spirit within her.
"Vincent, what if I had my own special interest in these fetishes?" She asked
A raised eyebrow conveyed my curiosity as I awaited her revelation.
"You know, Vincent, I might just have a desire to see you in a cast. A little fantasy of mine, if you will."
As we navigated the vibrant corridors of this huge property, I couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the night might unfold. While we were kissing Satan himself made a discreet appearance. The air seemed to change right away as the dark figure approached. Amelia, breaking away from our kiss, greeted her father with a warm smile.
"Hello father, I hope you enjoyed what you saw at the party?" she asked, kissing him on the lips.
Satan, red eyes gleaming with paternal pride, nodded. "Indeed, my dear. You looked absolutely enchanting in your full leg cast and the way you move on your crutches looks like you were meant to be on them permanently. Like a very sexy crippled woman"
Amelia blushed at the compliment and suggestion, I saw her gaze lingered on her long red cast, the perfect shape of it. Then she moved to her right leg, strong and capable. A subtle realization sparked in her eyes, and a mischievous smile played on her lips as she looked at her underarm crutches and considered the intriguing possibility that her father had unveiled...
"Would forearm crutches be better if ever..."
Satan's gaze then shifted to me, his presence imposing. "Vincent, a pleasure to have you here. I trust the festivities met your expectations?"
I didn't have any expectations but I extended my hand in a respectful gesture. "Thank you sir, It was an extraordinary experience."
As Satan shook my hand, I stared in Amelia's eyes as an unexpected...
Prelude to Darkness
Part 7 to come
K
Saturday, December 16, 2023
Prelude to Darkness part 5
I mean how often do you get an invitation to a Christmas party from Satan?
Dear Vincent,
You are hereby summoned, (scratch that) invited to a celebration like no other. The gates to hell will open to welcome you to a Christmas soiree hosted by the Prince of Darkness himself, me.
Join us in decadence.
Attire: This is no ordinary gathering, let your choice of attire reflect the duality of your existence, between the mortal you are and the fetish world that drives your sexuality.
Venue: Well Amelia will advise the driver. I’m sure you can understand for safety reasons.
Entertainment: The pure mortal shall enchant you with performances that defy the ordinary.
Refreshments: My daughter is yours for now, she owes you for what you did.
Date and Time: It shall commence on the eve of Christmas and ends when everybody is fully satisfied sexually. Prepare yourself for a Christmas celebration like you have never seen before Vincent. The underworld awaits you.
With infernal regards,
Satan, Lord of Darkness
Normally, Christmas was just another day on the calendar for me, a time when the world adorned itself with festive lights while I remained indifferent to the celebrations. But now, there was Amelia, Satan's daughter, who had the uncanny ability to turn ordinary moments into extraordinary experiences.
“Vincent, are you seriously telling me you've never celebrated Christmas?” Amelia asked, leaning on her crutches.
I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. “Never really saw the point, but I suppose exceptions can be made.”
She grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, you're in for a treat. My dad knows how to throw a party.”
"You see, Vincent, It's not about the tinsel or the carols, it's about the vulnerabilities and desires that surface in the hearts of mortals during that season, we see it everywhere every year.”
She slowly licked her lips, perhaps sensing the curiosity in my gaze. "Think of it as regular folks exploring their own fetishes, Vincent. It’s like a man might wish that his girlfriend who is on crutches for 4 months for broken legs may not be enough , maybe he wants her permanently, mobile but with crutches, very sexy but crippled” she said moving around the room on her own crutches looking totally desirable.
“I remember Belinda, Vincent”
“How do you know about Belinda?”
“That’s not important, when she came to the office with a broken tibia, in a white plaster cast, and crutches for seven weeks? Did you really think she broke it falling off a step ladder while putting up the Christmas tree with her husband? “
“Maybe she did, why not?”
“Common, Vincent, three days before Christmas, her husband wanted more than another recreational cast, and she... loved him. You felt in love with her even if she was married that day seeing her in her cast, didn’t you?"
Vincent couldn't shake the images of Belinda back at the office with a broken tibia and her subsequent weeks in a white plaster cast. She was short, petite and very beautiful. Was it really just a misstep from a step ladder while decorating the Christmas tree with her husband?
Amelia was getting ready for the party, her long red cast was a striking accessory while it peeked out from beneath her vibrant red dress. Her right leg was in a stocking super flirty looking. The lace garter belt, attached to the net stockings added a stunning elegant touch.
A small black sock, one of mine protected her little toes, a subtle touch to protect them that peeked out at the end of her cast. The red dress she wore followed her lovely silhouette, cascading gracefully and ending at the knee. Her hair was elegantly gathered in a bun, with a few loose strands framing her face. As she moved gracefully through my house on her one Christian Louboutin, red Kate Psychic pointed toe pump, she looked charming.
That night, she chose to use her black underarm crutches, a nice contrast. Our interactions were laced with dialogues and stolen glances at her broken leg and sexy stocking. Amelia knew it and she would shoot me a look that spoke of pure lust.
“You know, Vincent, it's refreshing to see you stepping out of your comfort zone,” she remarked, her long fingers rubbing her cast inching up slowly.
I couldn't help but smile and stare at her long fingers. “Well, they say there's a first time for everything. You, of all people should know that”
She tilted her head and lifted her fingers to her lips, her eyes narrowing playfully. “And I never pegged you for someone who appreciates the magic of a painful break of ladies leg healing in its cast.”
I was caught off guard. “Leg casts? Yes but not a lady in pain” Amelia nodded, her gaze lingering on my right leg while she caressed her right breasts.
“You're what they call a caster or a snapper, right? Someone who loves ladies in leg casts? Or someone that sexually fantasies about more?”
I couldn't deny the truth in her words. “Guilty as charged, sometimes I find both intriguing.”
“Well, consider this Christmas party a feast for your eyes, Vincent. I might have a surprise or two for you.”
Amelia's words hung in the air, slowly, she moved towards me on her crutches, stood before me, her presence dominating the space like she often did. She leaned in, her lips finding mine, the kiss was full of passion and sexual tension. As our lips met her fingers found my penis and the world outside ceased to exist. She dropped her crutches as she wrapped her arms around me.
I couldn't resist her. I picked her up in my arms, our eyes met. Carrying her to the kitchen counter, I wanted us to be eye to eye in this intimate moment. She smiled on the counter, it reminded her of an affair she had years ago with a divorced father, who lets be blunt loved to fuck her on the counter.
My hands found the place on the small of her back, I traced the contours of her body through the fabric of her red dress. The contrast between the softness of the dress and the complexity of the red cast against my leg was amazing.
I had one hand on her right leg, in the long black stocking while she freed my penis and my hand explored the calf muscles and curves of her right leg. She sensually slid her cast between my legs, against my penis, teasing me and rubbing me.
Amelia, in that moment, transformed into any man or woman's dream lover. She applied more pressure with her broken leg while I slid my fingers along her red cast to her dripping vagina.
“Have you ever imagined breaking your arm and thumb Vincent? I have, I’m the one who broke it, picture it, long arm cast, a bit inconvenient but maybe kind of... interesting?” she whimpered.
I could imagine and feel my broken thumb in a cast while I pushed my cast inside her, the rough surface looking for her clitoris and then she pulled me closer. I drove my penis inside her, moving in and out. Soon she was moaning from the pressure on her swollen clitoris while both of our orgasms grew closer.
Her eyes were closed, her hands caressed her round breasts, pulling hard on her nipples, her back arched, moaning and growling louder and louder, she was the perfect animal for me. I groaned and pushed my penis into her harder and faster. I could feel the ripples inside her of her orgasm while I drove deeper into her if that was at all possible until we both came.
While catching my breath I stared into her eyes and wondered what she met when she said “I might have a surprise or two for you.”
Prelude to Darkness
Part 6 to come
K
Friday, December 15, 2023
Thursday, December 14, 2023
Prelude to Darkness part 4
Prelude to Darkness
Part 4
She closed the distance, she reached him and raised her long cast and then, with a swift, deliberate motion, dropped it onto his broken leg. The sickening thud of her heavy cast meeting fractured bone was only overpower by his loud scream.
His scream, a symphony of pain and horror, pierced the silence. Amelia, seemingly unaffected, looked down at him with a chilling gaze.
"Feel that? It's just a taste of what you left me with that night. In my case both legs were broken"
I swear I wanted to stop her.
But while she stood over him, her elegance and the brutality of her actions created a surreal tableau. Amelia slightly rotated her leg cast on his broken leg dispersing the pieces of bones and the man could only gag in agony.
Amelia, having delivered a symbolic blow with her broken leg, motioned to me for her crutches. With a fluid motion she re-positioned them under her arms, her throbbing leg delicately elevated off the ground.
As she took a few steps towards me on her crutches away from the man, a lustful glint in her eyes, she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, it was so much more than just a kiss, I felt her tongue against my lips and then inside my mouth. She was a full package of sexual energy. I felt her heavy breasts and hard nipples against me, her tongue against mine. She was so soft and sensual, so beautiful and sexy and then she said,
"Shoot him between the eyes with that little revolver of yours Vincent," She commanded, her voice carrying authority.
I was in love, under the spell of her chilling presence, I found myself compelled to follow her bidding. I was the lawyer, sexual lover and also a mere puppet in the hands of Satan's daughter.
In the midst of this utterly surreal scene, and the prospect of a Christmas party with her lingered in the air, she gracefully moved away toward the awaiting car on her crutches. With each deliberate step her cocktail dress draped over her long cast. I was totally mesmerized and then...
I raised my weapon and shot him between the eyes.
A mere 2 hours later in Dr. Robinson's office, Steffi, with a stern expression, reminded Amelia.
"You weren't supposed to put any weight on that leg at all. Do you want to lose it? Is that what you want?" The tension in the room hung thick, a reminder of the consequences that awaited those who dared to defy her father's servant medical counsel.
In a meticulous display, Dr. Robinson proceeded to cut off the cast with a cast saw, each vibration underscoring the gravity of the situation. Then having successfully removed the leg from the cast that was split in 2, she approached Amelia's leg, the leftover of the cast scattered on the table.
Dr. Robinson's experienced hands and fingers moved with a delicate precision, tracing the contours of the leg and exploring each location of her broken bones. With every touch, every gentle press of her long fingers I realized she could re-break her fragile leg if that was her intention.
Thank god or the devil that it wasn't their intentions.
Following the meticulous examination and a slight twisting that I will save you the details, I witnessed again, Amelia's sexy, long leg gracefully disappearing in another full leg cast. This time, upon her request, the cast was red in anticipation of the upcoming Christmas party.
It's crazy right? it was as if we both momentarily forgot the events that had transpired merely two hours ago, we had killed a man, I killed him.
The beautiful Dr. Robinson insisted that the cast be bent in such a way that standing on it would be an impossibility, doctor's orders. I was fascinated to watch Steffi moulding around the contours of Amelia's leg the casting material. Her insistence on the bent position underscored the gravity of her medical judgement.
Returning to my place, I watched with fascination as Amelia effortlessly excited my car, grabbed her crutches and moved to the house. As she made her way to the bedroom, the rhythmic tap of her crutches against the floor was beautiful. For a split second I wondered how it would be to have Amelia permanently on crutches.
"Be very careful what you wish for Vincent" She said just like she could read my mind. Reaching the bedroom. I couldn't stop looking at her, I sat in the corner of the room in her red wheelchair and...
Amelia, standing on her one functional leg, executed a seamless transition. I stared at her perfect red cast, her firm breasts and those teasing nipples poking through. With unwavering confidence, she initiated the unveiling, gracefully removing her cocktail dress. The fabric cascaded down along her breasts and hips like a waterfall, gently bunching at the foot of her broken leg. At first, she made no move to discard it entirely, instead choosing to smile enigmatically.
She directed her attention to my legs, she didn't have to say anything, I complied, lifting my legs onto the legs rests. "Better," she remarked with a sense of erotic satisfaction.
The room transformed into an intimate sexual stage, bathed in the soft glow of ambient light, as she cupped her breasts like only women can. I could see her lips reacting and my penis hardening. She bent over and grabbed the black cocktail dress from her cast then she slowly slid the sexy dress between her cast and right leg across her wet vagina and moaned quietly with a slight sway of her hips while she rubbed herself with her dress.
Amelia, naked and wet, was so vulnerable, she called out to me. She grabbed her crutches and positioned them under her arms in one swift movement, so beautiful and poised on her crutches, she was the perfect contradiction where vulnerability met empowerment and lust. She smiled and threw me her wet dress.
"You are so hard Vincent" She could see the outline of my full length penis against my pants
As if Amelia had mastered the art of sensuality she crutched to me where I was still sitting in her wheelchair and even within the constraints of her broken leg and crutches. She unzipped my zipper and pulled my penis from my pants and started rubbing it with her wet dress. I felt her juice on me.
She rubbed me faster until I finally lost control, I came all over her hands and cocktail dress, the dress she wore when we first killed.
"Burn that dress would you Vincent?" She said walking away on her crutches.
Prelude to Darkness
Part 5 to come
K
Wednesday, December 13, 2023
Tuesday, December 12, 2023
Prelude to Darkness part 3
Prelude to Darkness
Part 3
On December 17, late at night, because Amelia mostly worked nights, as I was poring over documents looking to find the mystery man driving the sports car, Amelia entered silently on her crutches. The room seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy as she approached me, her long leg and cast inside tight fitting yoga pants that left little to the imagination. The fabric followed the delicate curves, revealing her sleek silhouette.
A simple t-shirt and the clear absence of panties and bra truly defined her as a vision. beyond the ordinary. The room held its breath as she moved, each step on her crutches a silent sexual tease.
God she was beautiful.
"Vincent," she whispered, her voice a seductive tone, "it's time to do it, I found him." She said with her black cast rubbing against my leg totally intentionally.
I was caught in a web of desire and dread, unable to resist the magnetic pull that drew me closer to her. Together, we embarked on a journey into the heart of darkness, where the lines between right and wrong were forever blurred.
Amelia, fuelled by an unyielding desire for vengeance, orchestrated a fake meeting with this mysterious figure that was very curious to meet this sexy woman that wanted to be in his next movie. He never realized that she was the lady he hit with his car. He was too drunk at the time to remember her.
Wearing a sexy black cocktail dress, Amelia looked amazing. Her dress accentuated the haunting beauty that emanated from her despite the grim circumstances. A single pump on her uninjured foot, echoing with a subtle, sinister resonance against the backdrop of the empty building that a friend of her father owned.
As me and the driver waited, the lawyer in me struggled to reconcile the grim reality of our surroundings and the coming actions, but Amelia seemed in total control playing the role of an avenging devil dressed like a high fashion model that was supported by underarm crutches, her favourite type.
"Hello, do you remember me?" She said leaning on her crutches, smiling.
Those were the first words that escaped Amelia's lips as she stood on her crutches, her cocktail dress a stark contrast to the grim surroundings. The leg cast, though visible, seemed to accentuate her defiance rather than reflect vulnerability. The lawyer in me observed, captivated by the audacity that emanated from her presence.
The man, caught off guard by her unexpected broken leg, squinted through the dim light as if trying to place her face. A momentary hesitation flickered across his features before he reluctantly nodded.
"Should I? Do you work for me baby? You won't be anymore if you are with that ugly cast. I see lots of young women that want to be part of my movies, "he said.
Amelia, undeterred by the dismissive words. She leaned lightly on her crutches and responded with a tone that hinted at both allure and defiance.
"Oh, this cast? It's not a hindrance, darling, I feel beautiful and sexy at the moment,"
She was walking towards him when she turned on her crutches with a graceful sway, she shifted the conversation from him to me with an air of casual elegance.
"By the way Vincent, did you happen to receive the Christmas invitation from my father?" a flicker of uncertainty in my eyes and I was wondering where that come from.
"Well, then," she continued, her tone now a delicate invitation, she moved sideways on her crutches and that damn cast looked even better than ever.
"Would you be so kind as to escort me? It would be a delightful evening. I'm sure dad has surprises for us" Her words, delivered with a disarmingly sweet smile, held a promise of intrigue,
And then I saw Amelia's eyes glinting with something darker, much darker and sinister as she stepped closer to him, the sound of her crutches echoing with her one high heel stilettos in the desolate space.
"You should remember me. You left me broken, both physically and emotionally in the middle of the street."
He chuckled nervously, attempting to dismiss her accusations. "Look, lady, I don't know what you're talking about. I've got places to be and you have the wrong man."
"Noooo I don't" she said and the lawyer in me recognized the mounting tension in the air, a prelude to a confrontation. Amelia's gaze remained unyielding as she continued moving closer to him,
"You left me lying on the cold asphalt, shattered and alone. Both my legs were broken. But tonight, you'll understand the true weight of your actions."
The man's dismissive smirk faltered, replaced by a hint of unease. "You're crazy, lady. I don't have time for this."
With a sudden, swift motion, Amelia raised her right crutch, her eyes red, ablaze with a fiery resolve. The lawyer in me, torn between a desire for justice and the unfolding chaos, watched as the crutch descended, a strike against the injustice she had endured.
The man recoiled, a mixture of shock and pain contorting his features. The blow was deliberate, a baseball type of strike aimed at his left leg, a mirror image of the torment he had inflicted on Amelia with his car.
The beautiful revenge sound of breaking bones reverberated through the desolate space as his tibia and fibula snapped under the force of the blow. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his broken leg, a semblance of the agony she had endured.
She approached him with measured steps on her crutches, the haunting echo of her stiletto amplifying the gravity of the moment. He tried to crawl.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, her voice cutting through the disorienting silence. The man, now writhing in pain, could only manage a feeble attempt to crawl away, unable or not strong enough to accept the pain and crawl.
The lawyer in me, now a witness to a twisted form of justice, was slowly grappling with the realization that the scales were tipping, and the retribution Amelia sought was done with a cruel precision that her father would be proud of.
But she didn't seem to be done and that could become very problematic. Amelia's vengeance was crossing the line between perpetrator and avenger .
"You see," Amelia's voice cut through the air, cold and deliberate, "I'm not supposed to put any weight on my broken leg. I had a fifth surgery just a few days ago, this cast is non weight bearing but for you, because you're so special to me and my dad, I'll make an exception."
With a resolute expression, she dropped her crutches to the ground, the echoes resonating through the desolate space. The lawyer in me watched, a spectator to a scene that teetered on the edge of madness and retribution. Amelia, in her sexy cocktail dress, began to painfully put weight on her long cast and walk, keeping the sexy high heel on her right foot.
Every step seemed to echo the pain she was enduring and yet there was a grim determination in her eyes. The man, still moaning in agony from his broken leg, looked on in disbelief as Amelia approached, limping badly but smiling.
She closed the distance and...
Prelude to Darkness
Part 4 to come
K