Tuesday, September 30, 2025
Monday, September 29, 2025
Sunday, September 28, 2025
Saturday, September 27, 2025
Friday, September 26, 2025
Before and after I broke my leg, black cast and crutches
Thursday, September 25, 2025
Wednesday, September 24, 2025
Tuesday, September 23, 2025
Monday, September 22, 2025
Sunday, September 21, 2025
Saturday, September 20, 2025
Friday, September 19, 2025
Thursday, September 18, 2025
Wednesday, September 17, 2025
The Broken Obsession part 7
The Broken Obsession
Part 7
Daniel’s hand is at my back, protective, firm. “Christy, we’re leaving,” he says, his jaw set, his eyes fierce. For a moment, I want to surrender to his certainty, to let him sweep me away from the golden-lit dining room where every whisper seems to follow me.
But my phone buzzes again. The words cut through me like a blade:
“If you leave, someone gets hurt.”
My stomach knots, yet my body hums with heat. I rise from the chair, my skirt clinging to my thighs as I grip my crutches. The pink cast drags like a second body, stiff and merciless, my heel clicking sharp on the polished floor as I move. Daniel looks at me.
“Easy, love,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
The air outside is cooler, biting against my bare leg. The silk blouse shivers against my skin. Daniel guides me toward the car, but every step feels choreographed by unseen eyes. My crutches thump, my cast gleams under the streetlights. They’re watching me. They see it all.
At the car, Daniel helps me lower myself into the seat. The skirt rides high, tight across my thighs. He grabs my crutches them and tucks them in the trunk. He’s gentle, but his gaze lingers, devouring the sight of me, one leg very alive and strong, the other stretched out stiff and gleaming pink, toes painted to match.
The phone buzzes again. I can’t ignore it.
Christy lifts her cast carefully, sliding it into the car. Her skirt pulls, showing the shape of her thighs. She leans on Daniel too long, lips parted, breath shaky. She likes it.
I gasp, my hand trembling around the phone. “Daniel… they’re writing it as it happens. Every move. Every touch.”
He curses under his breath, leaning close, brushing my cheek with his lips to calm me. “Let them watch. Let them choke on it. You’re mine tonight, Christy.”
But my pulse races faster, caught between two fires, his heat and their shadow. My cast lies across the seat, heavy and helpless, a constant reminder of how vulnerable I really am. And yet, when Daniel’s fingers trace the fiberglass shell, slow and reverent, sexual desire burns through me just as fiercely as fear.
I don’t know if I want to hide, or be seen and exposed.
The door slams, and Daniel starts the engine. I shift in the seat, my long pink cast stretched while my good leg bends elegantly, skirt sliding higher.
The phone buzzes again.
Oh Christy… you look amazing in that cast and the contrast, one strong leg, one helpless. Maybe Daniel is already hard again for you.
“Daniel… they’re writing things no one could know except you.”
He glances at me, jaw tight. For a half beat I think he’s angry—then I see something else flicker in his eyes. He is hard. His knuckles whiten on the wheel.
Another buzz.
I see you bite your lips. You want him to touch you between that cast and leg, to slide his hand up the pink fiberglass and stop just at the edge of your thigh.
My fingers curl in my lap. I whisper, trembling, “They’re inside my head.”
Daniel leans closer, voice low and rough. “Or maybe they just see what I see.” His hand hovers over my thigh, breath hot against my ear, and for a breath I forget fear and only feel heat. Then his fingers move, toward his face, and he fumbles at the arm of his Ray-Ban AI glasses, palms clumsy, like a man trying not to be found out.
“Oh shit,” I say before I know I’m saying it. The word trips out of me loud and small in the dark car.
He freezes, the movement halting. The glasses gleam for a second, tiny LEDs like eyes. He taps them, face going white.
“They’re not—Christy, I—”
The phone buzzes again and the message is cruelly precise.
He wears them. He records. He streams. I see him now, fingers trembling over the glass, wanting more than to watch.
Part 8 to come
Tuesday, September 16, 2025
Monday, September 15, 2025
Sunday, September 14, 2025
Saturday, September 13, 2025
The Broken Obsession part 6
The Broken Obsession
Part 6
His free hand reaches under the table, his fingers brushing against the stiletto heel of my shoe before wrapping around my ankle. I gasp, the sensation of total control that he has on me at the moment sending shivers through my body.
“God, I bet you’re so wet,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine while slightly twisting my foot and ankle
.
“For you,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper. “Only for you but Daniel but keep in mind that without that ankle that you are twisting…I will need a wheelchair for 6 weeks.”
That image will be burned in his mind forever.
The restaurant is quiet, but we don’t care. His hand releases my ankle and moves higher, his fingers tracing the edge of my panties, teasing me. I moan softly, pressing my broken leg against him, feeling his hardness through his pants against my exposed toes.
“I want you so bad,” he says, his voice raw with desire. “I want to fuck you right here.”
“Maybe later,” I say, my voice breathy. “For now, just touch me.”
He does, his fingers slipping inside my panties, finding my clitoris and circling it slowly. I grip the edge of the table, my knuckles white as I try to suppress my moans.
The waiter approaches, and Daniel swiftly removes his hand. I straighten up, my breathing ragged, but I manage a smile. “Everything okay?” the waiter asks.
“Perfect,” I say, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. Once the waiter leaves, Daniel leans in, his voice low. “I need to taste you. Now.”
I nod, standing up slowly, gracefully on my good leg grabbing my crutches. “I dare you to meet me in the ladies bathroom,” I say, my voice a husky whisper with a lovely smile.
He follows me, his eyes never leaving my broken leg as I make my way to the ladies’ room on my crutches. Once inside, I lock the door, drop my crutches and turn to face him, balancing dangerously on one tiny high heel shoe.
“Undress me,” I command, my voice thick with desire.
He obliges, his hands trembling slightly as he unbuttons my blouse, revealing my lace bra. He unhooks it, letting my breasts spill out, his eyes darkening as he takes in the sight. He unzips my skirt, letting it fall to the floor, his eyes lingering on my cast before moving to my soaked panties.
I step out of my clothes with his help, standing before him naked except for my one high heel shoe and my long sexy cast. He removes his own clothes quickly, his penis already so hard. He steps closer, his hand cupping my breast, his thumb brushing against my nipple. I gasp, leaning into his touch. He leans down, his tongue replacing his thumb, licking and sucking my nipple until I’m moaning his name.
His hand moves lower, his fingers finding my clitorid again. He rubs it slowly, his other hand gripping my ass, pulling me closer, I slightly lean on my broken leg moaning. I grind against his hand, my breath coming in short gasps.
“Daniel…” I moan, my voice pleading.
“Not yet,” he says, his voice firm. “I want to taste you first.”
He drops to his knees, his hands gripping my long cast as his tongue finds my clitoris. He licks and sucks, his tongue flicking against me until I’m screaming his name, my orgasm crashing over me.
He stands up, his cock glistening with my juices. “Turn around,” he commands.
I do as he says with small little hops, my hands gripping the sink as he positions himself behind me. I feel his hard penis, teasing me.
“Daniel…” I beg, my voice desperate.
“Patience,” he says, his voice thick with desire.
He starts to move, slowly at first, then faster, harder. I grip the sink, my knuckles white as I push back against him, meeting his thrusts.
“Fuck, Christy,” he groans, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “You feel so good.”
“Harder,” I beg, my voice ragged. “Were you going to break my ankle?” I moaned.
His body tensing as he comes, his cock pulsing inside me. Then he pulls out, turning me to face him. He kisses me, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hand slides along my long cast.
“Yes I was…” and then my phone buzz,
Part 7 to come
Friday, September 12, 2025
Thursday, September 11, 2025
Wednesday, September 10, 2025
Broken Obsession part 5
The Broken Obsession
Part 5
The phone buzzes again. My stomach knots as I read aloud, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Stand up and grab your crutches. Show off your cast. Walk across the room and back.”
Daniel leans forward, his eyes sharp. “Christy, no. Ignore it. Whoever this is, they don’t control you.”
But something in me stirs, hot and defiant. I press my lips together, my fingers brushing the silk over my thigh. “They’re watching, Daniel. They want to see me move. And maybe… maybe I want them to.”
I grip my crutches, their smooth handles familiar now, and push myself up. The leather skirt hugs my hips and leg cast as I rise. I swing forward, heel clicking, crutches thumping, every sound slicing through the hush of the restaurant.
Gasps ripple. Forks pause. Conversations die. Every eye turns toward me, toward the swing of my broken leg, the flex of my bare strong leg beside it. My calf tightens with each step, shapely and alive, while the other is rigid, trapped, an elegant weight I must carry for 6 weeks and maybe more.
“Christy…” Daniel’s voice is thick.
I pause, leaning slightly into the crutches, feeling the skirt sway around my thighs. “Do you like it?” I ask, turning my head just enough so he can see the heat on my lips, the flush in my cheeks.
His eyes blaze. “You’re driving me insane.”
Another buzz. My phone glows on the table. I go back slowly, every step deliberate, the sound of crutches cracking against the floor, my heel’s rhythm chasing after it. When I stop at the table, Daniel pushes back his chair, coming to help me, his hand brushing the side of my cast as he helps me lower back down.
The touch makes me shiver. The fiberglass is cold, unyielding, but under his hand it feels almost alive, like its part of me or something.
“I can’t stand this,” Daniel murmurs, his lips close to my ear. “The way they’re making you parade like this. The way I want you.”
I smile faintly, though my heart is pounding. “Its totally intoxicating.”
I let my cast rest against him under the table, the pink shell pressing into his thigh as I crossed my good leg over it once more, heel dangling, teasing between his legs against his erected penis.
The phone buzzes again. The words burn on the screen.
Perfect. Now touch your cast. Show him it belongs to me as much as it does to you.
My fingers tremble as I reach down. Daniel’s eyes followed every movement, pupils wide, lips parted. I let my hand glide along the curve of my pink cast at my knee, the fiberglass smooth and unyielding under my palm. I trace the rigid line up my leg, where my thigh used to move freely.
Daniel swallows hard. “Christy…” His voice breaks, thick with hunger and protest all at once.
“Does this… disturb you?” I whisper, letting my nails tap lightly against my cast inches now from my very wet panties. The sound is sharp, intimate, almost obscene in the hush of the restaurant.
He shakes his head slowly, though his hand fists on the table. “It doesn’t disturb me. It… consumes me. Watching you rub your broken leg like you do, caressing yourself, almost rubbing your clitoris in public and… that sexy and broken leg locked away inside that pink shell.”
Heat floods my chest. I tilt my body toward him slowly, the silk of my blouse brushing my hard nipples, my strong leg crossing tighter, heel dangling like a secret promise between his legs, my stilettos heel against his penis.
“You don’t have to hide it,” I murmur. “You can say it.”
Daniel exhales shakily, his hand sliding under the table, resting first on the edge of my skirt, then higher, until he grazes the side of my cast. The contrast is startling, his warm skin against the cold, rigid pink fiberglass.
“Say it…”
“You’re a fucking and sexy tease, Christy,” he growls, his voice low and gravely.
“I know,” I whisper back, my lips curling into a seductive smile while the metal heel of my shoe keeps rubbing his pulsating penis.
“But you love it.”
Part 6 to cum…
Tuesday, September 9, 2025
Monday, September 8, 2025
Sunday, September 7, 2025
The Broken Obsession part 4
The Broken Obsession
Part 4
I move my long pink cast slightly on the chair, I freeze, breath caught. Someone is close. Someone is watching me.
Daniel notices my reaction. “Christy? What is it?”
Another buzz from my Iphone.
Cross your strong leg over your cast. Show me the muscles of that long and sexy healthy leg of yours . Let him see what I already know about all those hours at the Ladies Gold Gym.
I inhale sharply. “Daniel… They’re describing me. Right now. He or they are in this restaurant”
His eyes flash, protective but also dark with curiosity. “Describe you? How?”
My lips curve into a wicked smile, even as a shiver runs through me. “They know about my training at my local gym, my stiletto heel. My cast. My legs….Everything"
Daniel’s hand slides across the table, catching mine. His voice lowers, thick. “Then let them watch. Let them see how much I want you right now, let's make him or her jealous.”
The words coil heat inside me. My pulse hammers, could it be a woman?
Slowly, deliberately, like a dancer in a smoky gentleman’s bar, I lift my left leg. The muscles ripple, my stiletto heel dangling, teasing with every tiny sway. I cross it over the length of my long pink cast, the contrast obscene and gorgeous, fragility locked against strength. My body hums at the sight.
I’ve never felt like I do now…
And then a memory surfaces clear as glass. That scene from the wedding movie, the bride struggling to escape from the bathroom stall, the desperate clatter of her high heel hitting the floor just before she stumbles, her ankle snapping on impact. I see it, feel it, almost as if it were me. The heat in my body and the wetness between my legs intensify, it sharpens. The memory blurs into the way my heel dangles now, daring to fall, daring to break, as if pain and beauty were made for each other.
Daniel is speechless… My phone buzzes again.
Yes…what a sexy leg. Lift your heavy cast toward him, against the table for everybody to see, show him how helpless it really is when you break your leg like I did.
I look at Daniel, my cheeks flushed. “Do you… want me to? I mean here in this wonderful restaurant?”
He leans closer, so near I can feel the heat of his breath against my cheek. “Christy, I want you to do exactly what makes you wet and sexually needy.”
I shift and lean down over my broken leg, my breasts against my cast, my nipples are so hard. I grab my long cast in my hands and I lift my cast and place it against the top of the table in full view, as if presenting itself for him. My silk blouse is so tight against my breasts as I lean in, whispering, “It feels like I’m being undressed with every message… by them, and by you …possibly.” I smile staring into his eyes.
Daniel’s hand tightens around the foot portion of my cast. “Then don’t stop.” He said leaning down and kissing my exposed toes…
The air is heavy, thick with sexual desire and sensuality. My broken leg commands his eyes, and my body shakes between Daniel’s touch, kisses and licking, the gaze of whoever is watching and….
What the next message will order me to do...
Part 5 to come
Saturday, September 6, 2025
Friday, September 5, 2025
Thursday, September 4, 2025
Wednesday, September 3, 2025
The Broken Obsession part 3
The Broken Obsession
Part 3
With Daniel's help, I lower myself carefully into the chair. My silk blouse grazes the white tablecloth, my crutches are against the wall like elegant, forbidden instruments.
Slowly and carefully not to hurt me, he lifts my broken leg and places my cast across the spare chair beside him. The long leg cast takes up space, unapologetic, stretching out as though it belongs here as much as I do. Guests at nearby tables can’t help but glance at my exposed toes on display. Their eyes linger, curious, hungry, some sympathetic.
“You have the attention of the whole restaurant,” he says with a smile, voice low and husky.
“I suppose I like making an entrance, I feel pretty sexy in pink.” I murmur, moving my good leg, the stiletto heel flashing under the soft light. I let the strong curve of my calf flex slowly, on display, while my cast lies long, stiff and pink.
Daniel leans in, his eyes flicking from one leg to the other. “Christy, you don’t even know what you’re doing to me right now.”
“Oh, maybe I know,” I almost moan, tilting my head. “The way you look at my legs… both of them. My strong one, alive, shapely. My other, locked, rigid, helpless wanting to be touched….”
His jaw tightens. “God, when you say it like that…”
Just then, my phone buzzes again. The vibration runs right up my broken leg. I glance down and this time the words are different, even darker.
You are not just a goddess. You are my goddess. One perfect leg in a 4 inch stiletto. The other bound, helpless in a pink cast. I ache because I remember the EXACT moment you became this broken goddess.
My throat tightens. I read it twice, then a third time. Daniel’s hand is still warm over mine, but the glow of the candlelight suddenly feels sharp, exposed.
“What is it, Christy?” he whispers.
I showed him my phone. His jaw tenses. “What the hell does that mean, ‘the moment you became this’?”
Another buzz. My heart beats so fast as the words appear.
I was the driver, Christy. The truck that didn’t stop. The one that left you beautifully helpless, unable to stand, unable to move your broken leg, crawling slowly off the road, dragging your right leg along.
The air seems to collapse around me. My heel freezes mid-dangle on my good foot. The restaurant chatter blurs. Daniel stares at me, horrified. “This can’t be real.”
Another message arrives before I can breathe, before my left hand stops rubbing and teasing between my cast and leg.
This is for Daniel since he doesn’t know. You were on that electric bike. I remember the way your skirt lifted in the wind, white silk tong flashing. You were laughing to yourself, hair flying behind you. Your legs WERE strong, alive. I watched them pump against the pedals. Then a small hit followed by the sound. The crack. You fall, trying to stand on that perfect leg while the other bent, broken. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t help. I only stared before I drove away.
I nearly dropped the phone. My cast feels suddenly heavier, as though the words have sunk into the fiberglass itself. Daniel grips my wrist. “Christy, don’t read this.”
But I can’t stop plus who is Daniel anyway, maybe he is part of all this. Another message floods the screen.
And now I sit so close. You are almost, almost perfect. Watching you bend your strong leg, your sexy strong calf, your metal stiletto heel flashing under the candlelight. Watching your long, long cast stretch across the chair, helpless, pink, so beautiful. You don’t know what you do to me. You don’t know what you did to me that night when you left the hospital. The sound of your crutches on the pavement...
I can feel Daniel’s eyes on me, but I don’t dare look away. My thigh and the hard edge of my cast press together beneath the leather of my skirt, my body betraying me with a pulse of wetness. His words wrap around me, voyeuristic, horrific, intimate, sinking in like teeth, like a vampire biting into the soft hollow of my neck.
“Christy,” Daniel murmurs, squeezing my hand, pulling me back to him. “Look at me, not at that.”
But I can’t help it. My thumb hovers, trembling, desperate for the next vibration, the next line that will strip me bare in front of him wearing only my long pink cast.
Part 4 to come