The President's daughter part 9

A few weeks had passed since our amputation discussions, and the routines of my mornings had settled into a familiar rhythm. I rose with a sense of purpose, the weight of duty settling onto my shoulders as I prepared for the day ahead.

Securing my shoulder holster, I ensured that my firearm was snug and in place. The motions were fluid and precise, etched into my muscle memory from years of rigorous training and service. Each movement was deliberate, a silent promise to protect and serve Mia.

The familiar scent of brewing coffee wafted through the air. While waiting for Sarah I savoured it with each sip. The caffeine served as a silent companion, a wake up call. As I stood before the mirror, my gaze briefly lingered on the photograph in the living room table. A moment of tenderness shared with Mia during an official trip in Ireland, a snapshot of my beautiful girlfriend. The memory of that day filled me with love.

With a final glance, I allowed myself to imagine Mia on crutches with only one leg. A surge of sexual excitement ran through me while I imagined licking her stump. Yet, today marked a turning point for Mia, a step toward healing and recovery. As I readied myself to accompany her to the hospital.

In the weeks following the accident, Mia had established a careful routine that revolved around her broken leg like I did some years ago. I could clearly see in her eyes, her first conscious moments were marked by the awareness of her long leg cast, a reminder of the fragility that disrupted her vibrant college life.

"Good morning, Sarah,"

"Morning, Mia. How's the leg feeling today?"

I would never get used to seeing her eased herself out of bed, her movements a delicate balance accommodating her injury. The plastic protector was a necessary precaution during her morning shower. For a minute I wondered if being an amputee would be easier to deal with then a full leg cast?

"It's still a bit sore, but I think it's getting better," Mia replied with a note of cautious optimism.

As the warm water cascaded over her, from my vantage point, the slightly ajar door granted me glimpses of fuzzy shapes of her naked body, the steam creating an aura around her, "Let me know if you need any help,"

"Thanks, but I think I've got it,"

Stepping out of the shower, she gingerly dried herself, mindful of the weight of her cast as she balanced on her good leg. She selected a jeans skirt that accommodated the bulk of her cast. On her crutches, she navigated her apartment, the rhythmic thud of the crutch tips against the floor echoing. She approached the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee welcoming her as a daily ritual.

As we arrived at the orthopaedic section of the hospital, the familiar scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, with the hushed tones of conversation that underscored the tension of the medical environment. Mia found a seat, carefully settling herself with her broken leg.

Nearby, a young mother cradled her infant with one arm, her other arm was in a green full arm cast. I couldn't help but notice the weary lines on the mother's face, a testament to the challenges of caring for a little one with a broken arm.

Straight across from me, a spirited college cheerleader sat with a pink cast wrapped around her ankle stopping inches below her knee, her eyes glinting with excitement squeezing her boyfriend's hand. She kept the waiting room with a vivid account of how she had executed a daring routine, only to land awkwardly and fracture her ankle. Her energy was infectious.

Beside the cheerleader, a seasoned schoolteacher recounted the mishap that had led to her own fractured ankle. With a hint of humor, she described her valiant attempt at navigating a playground obstacle course, only to find herself sprawled on the ground with a throbbing ankle. Despite her discomfort, her passion for teaching shone through.

Each individual with their own injury and healing process but their paths crossed in this room. While I was happy to listen, Mia's interest and curiosity went farther.

She couldn't help but strike up a conversation with the young mother. "Seems like you've got your hands full," she remarked, nodding toward the baby nestled in the crook of the mother's good arm.

The mother offered a weary smile. "You bet. Little ones don't understand do they?" she said with a touch of affection.

Meanwhile, the cheerleader asked "Aren't you the daughter of the president? Anyway I was like, go big or go home, you know? But I didn't plan on the landing part," she laughed, her eyes staring at Mia legs, admiring her long leg cast, probably why she didn't get a full leg cast.

As the doctor called Mia into the examination room, I followed her behind the door. The physician began explaining the next steps to Mia, his calm and measured voice carrying a reassuring tone.

"The good news is that the fractures are healing well, however, we'll still need to keep it protected for a bit longer. But this time, it'll be a shorter cast but still non weight bearing at first."

"So, this saw uses vibrations to cut through the hard outer shell of the cast without affecting the soft padding inside or your skin. It's specially designed not to harm you during the process," the beautiful nurse explained, her voice calm and reassuring.

"We're almost there," the nurse remarked, Mia's eyes lit up with anticipation, her leg freed from the long cast.

As the last pieces of the cast were removed, the nurse prepared a basin of warm, soapy water. She soaked a soft cloth and began to clean Mia's broken leg, the warm water cascading over her skin, removing any traces of debris left by the cast. Mia relaxed into the gentle touch and the nice sensation of the warm water against her skin.

"There we go, ready for the new cast," I said to Mia looking at her broken leg.

As the nurse's applied the new cast on Mia's leg, I found my thoughts wandering back to our conversation about recreational amputations. The sight of Mia's leg disappearing once more beneath the layers of white layers, how the idea of an amputation simulation had held a sexual fascination for her.

As Mia's gaze fell to her new cast, the shorter cast was smooth and followed her lower leg. Its pristine whiteness seemed to accentuate the delicate curves of her calf, the smooth fiberglass tracing the contours of her limb.

"It's different, isn't it?" She murmured

"You look amazing Mia so beautiful, It's definitely going to be more manageable,"

With a soft smile, I approached Mia, with her crutches in my hands. As she stood,all her weight shifting effortlessly onto her uninjured leg, her shorter cast adding a touch of charm. In that moment, as she stood before me, her gaze meeting mine, I found myself drawn to her.

I leaned in, my lips meeting hers in a tender embrace. In that brief, intimate exchange. As our lips parted, a flicker of mischievous determination crossed my mind, I wanted to surprise her.

Taking her hand in mine, I guided her back to the wheelchair, a playful glint in my eye.

"Let's make getting you comfortable our top priority, and then I have a surprise for you"

Conclusion to come
K