When we entered my beautiful condo, I felt so comfortable in my surroundings. Beautiful paintings and artwork from local artists were covering some of the walls. Crystal removed the bandages of her pretended amputation and limped across my place on 2 legs now. She took my crutches and I sank into a plush sofa, my long cast on a soft stool.
Crystal eyes filled with both envy and affection.
"Tonight Isabelle, let's set the secrets aside and let me please you," her voice full of tenderness.
I leaned against her, feeling the warmth of her presence. With my broken leg held in the air, I propelled myself forward using my one good leg, avoiding any weight on the injured limb.
As we made our way towards the bedroom, my persona disappeared and I felt a wave of vulnerability and love for Crystal.
She was so good and sweet. She removed my one shoe and sock then slid down my shorts along my red cast. Then came off my t-shirt bra and panties. She backed away looking at me naked except for my cast. By pure reflex I covered my breasts with my hands but like we did so often, she then tied both my wrists to my bed.
I knew she loved my breasts, she kissed them, licking my hard nipples fully erect and loving her attention. While she was licking my breasts, her hand caressed the other breast. I was getting so wet. She was on her knee rubbing my cast slowly, lifting it and kissing my exposed toes.
Carefully not to hurt me, she spread my cast and my leg apart. I was shaved and felt her breath all over between my legs. Her tongue was against my clitoris sliding in and out. We had such a connection. I came hard and loud.
I realized the next morning that Crysta was gone to her own place. The sun was shining, I gingerly swung my cast and leg over the side of the bed. The weight of my red cast was a constant reminder that I needed to reach for my crutches.
As I navigated the room on my crutches, I realised that each of my movements were more deliberate, more graceful, almost in total control. The familiar surroundings of my condo unit helped to the feeling that I was becoming one with my crutches, that they were part of me.
While waiting for the coffee to be ready, I slowly made my way to the bathroom, the cool tiles beneath my bare foot. The mirror reflected back an image that challenged me. I leaned my crutches against the wall and reached for a brush, my fingers gliding through the tangled strands of my hair. With each stroke, I transformed the chaos into a semblance of order.
After savouring two delicious cups of coffee and catching up on messages and the latest local news, I hobbled back into the bathroom using my crutches and leaned them against the wall again. With precise movements, I applied a minimum of make up. A deep red lipstick with black eyeliner, expertly applied to accentuate the intensity of my gaze.
It's interesting that ever since I was a young woman, I've been a constant contradiction. I wanted to be charming to the older men I loved, dated and be dangerous to their marriage by often trying to date their wife's when possible at the same time. Now showing strength and feeling vulnerability. The persona was set, I was ready to pick the clothes to match it.
I grabbed my crutches, left the bathroom and made my way to my large walk-in closet. Despite the challenges posed by my long leg cast, I possessed an assortment of attire suitable for any event and physical condition. I was determined not to let my broken leg affect my sense of fashion.
I selected a tailored black blazer, paired with a sleek white blouse and form fitting black skirt. My only question as I dressed was should I cut off one leg of my pantyhose and exposed my red cast? I decided for this time to wear the pantyhose over the cast. I had read last night, on a fetish site that casters were mixed about their preference. I was certain that the detective was one of them.
As I stood in front of the full-length mirror, crutches supporting my weight, I couldn't help but appreciate the sight before me. I smiled and felt that my long red cast inside a pair of pantyhose, created a uniquely captivating image. The pantyhose stretched smoothly over the contours of my broken leg, accentuating the well-defined shape of the cast.
My pantyhose, delicate fabric, clung to the cast, outlining every curve and indentation. The sheer material allowed glimpses of the cast's red texture to peek through. Another great visual contrast.
I mean maybe it's in Karine's crazy mind but the contrast between the sturdy, protective nature of the full leg cast, non weight bearing and the fragile elegance of the pantyhose was so beautiful. Before you stop reading one last point, as a female caster I love the combination of the intricate design of my pantyhose combined with the texture of the cast. It really did what it was meant to do, draw my detective's eyes to my broken leg.
"Poor Isabelle, look at her badly broken leg, could she have ever planned to murder the doctor? Of course not."
I slid on a Christian Louboutin 2 inch stiletto heel on my good foot. Standing on my crutches, I admired the striking combination of a leg cast and high heel shoe that evoked a sense of sensuality.
My meeting with the detective was drawing near. With a final adjustment of my attire, I took a deep breath. With my crutches under my arms, I emerged from my condo. The streets hummed with life. The stage was set and I was ready to play my part in this twisted dance of truth and deception with the detective.
A Uber driver that I knew already approached in a sleek black car. I approached with a smile.
"Hello Samantha"
Her eyes widened momentarily by the sight of my imposing cast. With a gracious smile, she opened the back door for me, took my crutches and I gingerly lowered myself onto the plush leather seat, arranging my broken leg.
"Don't ask, mountain biking gone wrong" I said.
The car hummed to life, I gazed out the window, watching as the familiar streets and towering buildings passed in a blur. My thoughts drifted, to my plans, as I mentally prepared for the encounter awaiting me at the police station.
Upon arriving at my destination, Samantha opened the car door, helped me out and gave me my crutches. Her eyes held a mix of sympathy and curiosity. I thanked her.
I could sense their eyes fixed on me, their gazes filled with curiosity, as I made my way to the police station. Looking at my long cast and the way I was dressed for such a visit, they didn't know that there was a purpose behind my appearance. I had an important meeting scheduled with a potential new customer right after my interview with the detective.
Part 5 to come
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