Monday, June 26, 2023
Mysterious part 5
As I approached the entrance of the police station on my crutches, the heavy double doors swung open, welcoming me where I didn't want to go but had too. The bustling atmosphere and muted conversations filled the air, a reminder of power and authority.
Inside, the polished floors were slippery, my one stiletto heel and crutches echoed with each step I took. I approached the receptionist, she greeted me with a mixture of curiosity and professionalism but she couldn't resist looking me up from my heel, up my long cast, skirt and finally my eyes.
"Good morning, I'm here to speak with Detective Tyler," I stated. The receptionist nodded, her fingers dancing across the keyboard.
"He's expecting you, by the way your skirt is beautiful" she replied, her tone respectful.
"Thanks, I have a meeting after this one and with this broken leg I don't have time to go back to my place and change," to my surprise the young policewoman moved her right leg from behind the desk and she was wearing a white cast inside a cast shoe.
"I understand exactly what you're going through. 7 months ago during patrol, I suffered a severe injury to my ankle and foot, shattering them into pieces. Just last week, I finally regained the ability to walk on them in this walking cast."
It's quite remarkable that petite women can now be part of the police force. She was wearing the official policewoman skirt, making her black cast clearly visible.
"That's a long time, good luck with the rest of your rehab," She smiled at me with her beautiful brown eyes.
"You can head straight down the corridor to his office. It's the second door on the left. Be careful on the slippery floors with your crutches,"
I thanked her and slowly my crutches guided me down the corridor. Finally, I arrived at Detective Tyler's small office. I took a deep breath and knocked. Was I ready to face the questioning and manipulation that awaited me within those walls?
Time will tell.
He opened the door and I stepped into the room, my casted leg leading the way, I felt the uncertainty that lay before me. It was a self defence detective, the words ran through my mind. Just look at my broken leg, my long cast seems to say to the detective.
Detective Tyler helped me to a chair and placed my crutches against the wall. Then he sat behind his desk, his piercing gaze fixed upon my good leg at first. A sense of tension between us again. I couldn't help but notice the way his eyes then lingered on my broken leg, a mixture of curiosity and something else, maybe due to the fact that my long red cast was inside my pantyhose. The red of the cast peaking through.
Something was creating a connection between us. He cleared his throat and his voice was steady.
"Isabelle, thank you for coming in today," he began, his tone a careful balance of professionalism, intrigue and attraction. When I "accidentally" moved my cast, the detective stared at my hidden toes, he couldn't stop. I really felt like he wanted to touch my broken leg.
"I understand you were involved in an incident , I also understand that it was self defence which resulted in your broken leg. The one question I have is why did you meet the doctor in the first place? Can you provide us with the details?" He moved in his chair, trying to get comfortable, maybe hiding his erection? Who knows.
I met his gaze, my own eyes helping to keep some mystery. I couldn't say it was a trap to kill the bastard.
"Detective, I'm afraid it's not a simple incident," I replied, my left hand on top of my cast. He was looking at my long fingers. Yes detective, two of these fingers were inside me this morning and now they are caressing my poor broken leg.
"It's part of a much larger story. It's like my long leg cast concealed within my pantyhose. Observers can see the presence of the cast signalling a broken leg, but the specific bones fractured, whether the tibia, fibula, femur, or a combination remain a mystery."
I bent the ankle of my good leg, the muscle in my leg tightened, my nice long shapely leg got the attention of the detective. like I wanted him to capture every detail. I noticed a shift in the detective's demeanour. It was as if he couldn't resist my persona that combined both the victim and the murderer while still sexy and injured.
"I'm here to listen miss and put this behind us" he said,
"Tell me everything," He smiles looking deep into my eyes.
And so, I began to weave a tale of truth and lies, carefully selecting each word, allowing my voice to seduce, my broken leg to intrigue and my long cast under my black pantyhose to literally turn on sexually my detective, yes he was mine at the moment.
The twisted affair that he had with me when I was young, the call when he invited me to his house just before he died and the desperate struggle that led to my broken leg. As I spoke, the atmosphere in the room shifted, from anticipation to physical attraction to a new level.
The detective's eyes held a mixture of captivation and interest, he was drawn to my broken leg when I gave the details of the good doctor twisting and breaking my leg. When I described the pain I felt I shifted my long cast again, sensuality emanated from me, I was in control.
His questions were calculated, but he wasn't probing deeper. I could sense the unspoken sexual tension and attraction between us, a pull of trust and desire. As he got up and leaned in closer, his voice lowered to a whisper, his gaze locked with mine.
"I must admit, Isabelle, there's something about you," he confessed, a flicker of desire flickering in his eyes.
"Your strength, your intelligence, so sexy and injured all combine in one woman" He said rubbing my shoulders delicately. I moved my broken leg to make contact with his leg. He looked at my long cast almost drooling.
"Detective, why don't you kiss me," I murmured, my voice laced with a seductive undertone,
"And touch my broken leg, you want to feel my cast, I can tell. You can even rip my pantyhose."
In that small, intimate room, the air became thick with desires. We were pursuing the forbidden. Detective Tyler leaned closer, his voice a low, husky murmur that sent shivers down my spine. I needed to be touched so badly.
"Isabelle," he whispered
Part 6 to come
K
Sunday, June 25, 2023
Mysterious part 4
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
Mysterious part 3
"Isabelle, let's go for a drink," she suggested.
I welcomed the distraction from the haunting memories that plagued my mind and the wild sex earlier. Was she expecting more than friends with benefits? And was I ready to be more?
"You're a beautiful and intriguing woman Crystal," I observed, a blend of admiration in my words.
"But even if I'm clearly attracted to you, I hope we can continue to be best friends and not take the next step. I have so much that I need to deal with, between my broken leg and the murder investigation, I hope you understand"
"I understand completely. I'm here for you but I need to say that you were amazing," She said, caressing my broken leg with her long fingers.
We were both looking at my cast. The weight of it seems to always bring me back to reality. I was wearing shorts and even if it was to protect my broken bones, the long red cast was a nice match to my shorts. My first impression after I had a chance to really look at it, was how long it was. The cast went from my thigh to my toes contrasting against the little bit of my skin that was still exposed.
The non weight bearing nature of the cast added an extra layer of challenges to my day to day situation. Most of the people that I knew that broke a limb were in plastic boots and often walking on it. The doctor had been so good at explaining to me the situation.
"Because of the severity of your injury that involves multiple bones, a full leg cast is required for complete mobilizations. You won't be able to put any weight on your broken leg at all for a long time"
Each step I took on my crutches seemed to attract some attention. Even Crystal that used to stare at my long legs before, was now mesmerized by my cast and crutches. As we both walked into the bar on our crutches, the eyes of patrons alternated curiously between her missing leg and my broken leg. I was good at reading people and I could see both sympathy and curiosity. Whispers, murmurs of speculation surrounding the story behind my broken leg and Crystal amputation. I paid them no attention still I heard a woman say,
"They must have been in a bad car accident."
Sinking into the booth, I adjusted my broken leg, elevating it with Crystal help to reduce the discomfort. Crystal fingers brushed against the edges of my cast, and her touching my exposed toes was a gentle reassurance.
I smiled at my best friend with defiance in my eyes from all the damn whispering in the bar about our physical limitations. They wanted bullshit, I was going to give them some.
"It's just adversity for me Crystal, I won't be walking without crutches for 3 roughly months with this long and sexy cast on my leg. But you know something, I think the hard cast is turning me on," I said smiling, sliding my fingers from my knees up, almost rubbing myself.
"I know you are so sexy injured and broken" She said, louder than me.
"And you, trapped in the car for hours before losing your leg" I couldn't continue and we both laughed and smiled at our audience.
Who was I kidding, yes my long cast was going to be a steadfast companion, a visible reminder of the fight I won but in the back of my mind and between my legs, I felt a little something. I loved the attention I was getting and the struggling of being on crutches. Not sure why yet but it was kinda turning me on.
A smile curved her lovely lips, a familiar gleam dancing in her eyes.
"And yet Isabelle, you need to be careful who you trust until the investigation is complete," She said after my little play. She was right.
I felt eyes that analysed my every move. Our drinks arrived, and I raised my glass,
"To friendship," I murmured, happiness in my voice.
"And to love," she replied.
Crystal's glass clinked against mine, her eyes gleaming with hope. Maybe after my dark secrets have been laid to rest, love may be possible. A softness enveloped my gaze, a vulnerability. I had to master the art of deception, using my seductive charm and even my broken leg if need be as weapons with the detective.
With Crystal, I couldn't deny a mutual sexual attraction. I touched her stump, yearning for a physical contact and for the first time ever in my life I wondered how she would feel if it was really amputated at the knee or even higher.
As the night wore on, I left the fetish or murderous worlds behind and we shared work related stories. We laughed and smiled and enjoyed ourselves. Briefly, I believed I caught a glimpse of the detective in the corner of the bar, but I quickly dismissed it as a figment of my imagination but it had been enough for the tension to return.
We left the bar, the echoing sound of our crutches filling the night. I was happy I spent the night with Crystal, she had always been my physical and emotional support over the years.
We were only 1 block away from my condo unit, the street was dark, barely illuminated when I saw a shadowy figure emerging from the darkness, between buildings.
My heart skipped a beat and then I saw the sexy and tall detective. Was he hot on my trail, determined to know all my secrets? Instinctively, I positioned myself behind Crystal. The detective's voice pierced the silence, a loud tone of authority.
"Miss Lemaire," he began, his voice sending a chill down my spine.
"I didn't want to bother you too close to breaking your leg but there are still unanswered questions that linger that really need answers"
My eyes narrowed, assessing the situation with a cool, calculating gaze. My persona took over, the same one that spent a lifetime perfecting the art of manipulation, of staying one step ahead. But this unexpected encounter reminded me to stay vigilant because my most guarded secrets could be exposed, if I'm not more careful, during the next few months at least.
While leaning on my crutches, I slowly twisted sideways to face him. I smiled and tilted my head, my eyes looking into his eyes. My long red cast pointing at him, like my gun did before.
"Call me Isabelle, questions, detective?, what questions exactly?"
"I hope I have answers for you."
He was about to say something else but stopped himself. He looked at Crystal and seemed to realized for the first time that she was pretending.
"I'm sure Isabelle that you will have answers so that we can close the case" He said now staring from my broken leg to Crystal one strong leg.
"I don't need to tell you not to play games with the police department or me. Remember that every game has its consequences. See you soon."
He left quickly, leaving me with a sense of unease. Yet, instead of the fear of getting caught, I felt a surge of determination, I felt the thrill of the hunt, except this time I was the one being hunted.
Part 4 to come
Mysterious part 2
Dr. Esposito began the process of applying a long leg cast on my broken leg. I don't want to bore you with the details but after the padding, she carefully wrapped rolls after rolls around my long leg, of the fibreglass material. I was losing the usage of my leg for a minimum of 6 weeks.
As the cast hardened and since this was my first cast ever, I realized how heavy this was going to be. Not yet sure about my limitations. Maybe I was going to be able to use my physical situation to keep some of my secrets hidden from the police. But Even Crystal could not shield me from the consequences of my actions. I did plan to kill him.
As I sat there, waiting for my leg cast to dry, an unexpected figure caught my attention. I could see him in the adjacent room, discreetly observing the entire casting process.He would eventually become involved in my personal life, Detective Tyler.
Detective Tyler's curiosity regarding my broken leg and leg cast was completely unrelated to the murder investigation. His attentive gaze reflected a combination of concern and intrigue. It seemed as though my broken leg, or perhaps the cast itself, held a particular fascination for him. In a way that was very similar to Crystal and her interest in pretending to be an amputee.
I realized but didn't understand that my broken leg had become something new that may lead us down a path that only a fetishist would comprehend. I was starting to feel a need to be touched when I was saved by the doctor. Dr. Esposito walked in and inspected her work with a satisfied nod.
"You will feel better soon," she reassured me, sliding her long fingers along my thigh. By reflex I moved my cast and leg apart, staring at the doctor for more.
"But remember, you need to keep your weight off your broken leg at all times. Crutches are your best friend for the next 6 weeks and possibly more." She said while I stared at her finger barely touching my wet panties. What a tease she was.
With her help I swung the cast off the bed and stood on my left leg and positioned the crutches under my arms. I guessed that in no time I would be agile like Crystal, and the crutches will be an extension of me bla, bla, bla.
I find it hard to believe.
I took a few steps on my crutches, finding my balance under the watchful eyes of the male nurse. I sat in the wheelchair, my long leg cast elevated in the leg rest while holding on to my crutches. As I prepared to leave the hospital, Detective Tyler approached me, his steps deliberate yet his eyes filled with curiosity.
"Miss Lemaire, I'm Detective Tyler, how are you holding up?" he asked, his voice softer than expected based on his size. He was well over 6 feet tall.
I looked at him for a moment, I saw genuine concern in his eyes. Despite the secrets that I needed to hide, everything that I would say could work against me in court later.
"I will be OK, but please call me Isabelle," I replied, a hint of vulnerability seeping into my voice.
"I broke my leg 2 years ago so I totally understand what you will be going through so I sympathize." He said but the way he stared at my long cast didn't look like sympathy. It felt more like when men stared at my long legs when I wore black pantyhose and stiletto pumps, I could see and feel desire and lust in their regards.
"This cast, these crutches, will be a new world to me. When I got up this morning I didn't think I would end with a broken leg. In a way Detective Tyler, it's a reminder of the fragility of our lives, isn't it?" I said thinking that I only wanted to kill the rapist today, not break any limbs.
Detective Tyler nodded, his gaze flickering to my exposed toes for a brief moment but I swear he licked his lips. Then moving along my cast, to my breasts and returning to meet my blue eyes.
"They do," he agreed and understood but he quickly added.
"But during your attack, you showed resilience, and the ability to adapt and overcome. You will do the same with your broken leg"
Once outside the hospital, he helped me stand and I positioned my crutches under my arms. We walked together towards Crystal's car, I couldn't help but feel the connection between us intensify. We were both fully aware of the boundaries between duty and desire blurring in the face of our undeniable attraction. He wanted to find the details of the killing and I wanted to stay away from jail.
He was right, it was like navigating on my crutches, careful not to fall and break something else. I didn't want to go to jail so I should keep my distance from him, but I couldn't help but wonder where it could ultimately lead us.
The next day we were sitting on the couch and I was daydreaming again.
"Isabelle, are you OK?" She whispered, her voice filled with compassion. My broken leg was on her lap, on top of her legs, she was rubbing my cast with her other hand. She was such a good friend.
"I'm fine baby, just a bit sore" She froze when I rested my hand on her pretended stump. I was rubbing her soft breathable elastic protective stump sock, she was unsure what to do or say. I was taking her pretending to the next level and she loved it.
I waited and smiled. A moment later I moved my hand in between her legs. She parted them slightly, quite excited she rubbed my cast. I couldn't feel anything inside my hard cast but she sure did feel my fingers.
Ever so slowly, my hand rode up her stump and my fingers came in contact with the edge of her panties inside her skirt. My hand touched the bare skin of her upper thighs. Her breathing told me she was enjoying it.
"I'm so sorry about your car accident and the loss of your leg" I said while I came in contact with her silk panties again, but this time I continued and let my thumb slowly caress them in a back and forth motion.
"Oh god Isabelle," She moaned. I slid my cast against her one leg.
"I know all about the relentless agony of phantom limb pain Crystal"
She was so wet to my touch, her fetish was exciting even if very taboo. She began to quiver under my control. I have been with her before sexually, but never under these circumstances.
I looked at her, at her one leg sliding along my broken leg. Her small foot and toes against the hard surface of my cast. It was a good time for my finger to enter her most private area. Two fingers deep inside her. I moved back and forth, slightly increasing the pace with each entry. I knew it would only be a matter of minutes before her orgasm rocked her body.
And it was, she was suddenly overwhelmed with pure pleasure, shaking and moaning loudly. I felt her love juice along my fingers, still embedded deep inside her. I slid them out, she was staring at them and I rubbed them along my long red cast, leaving a wet trace.
Part 3 to come
K
Mysterious part 1
The rain-soaked streets of Montreal mirrored the storm brewing within me. I leaned on my crutches with the burden of a broken leg affecting my every step. I hated this leg cast. With each movement, pain shot through my body, a relentless reminder of my vulnerability. Crystal, my best friend, walked beside me, her vibrant purple hair standing out against my long blond hair.
OK Crystal was so much more than a friend. The older generation would call her a friend with benefits, she was a lesbian and I was bisexual. You do the math.
She had so much style and acted on fetishes when she felt like it. Professional business woman during the day, she loved to be on crutches with her left knee bent and tied in various ace bandages at night and sometime during the day. She was what they called an amputee pretender. When wearing a sleek skirt and blouse, it would accentuates my attraction to her strong leg and the partially exposed stump.
Today she was completing her ensemble with a knee-high stiletto-heeled boot. She was totally elegant and a touch of rebellion, daring people to ask how she lost her leg. One would say that her one knee-high heeled boot and crutches were a daring symbol of her determination to live her life the way she wanted too. I would say that she was perfect and totally yummy. I typed that while licking my lips, if you could see me facing my little Chromebook.
As we navigated on our crutches a lovely cobblestone street in the heart of Old Montreal, my mind replayed the events that had led me to this state. It all began with the murder of Doctor Bradley, my former doctor, lover and so much more. He helped create or at the very least bring forward one of my persona. The "femme fatale", 5 feet 10 inches with long blond hair, deep blue eyes, long legs and a well defined bust. I also used that sexy persona to keep the detectives chasing shadows, in the pursuit of the killer, of the serial rapist we called Doctor Bradley.
I took a deep breath, looking at my long red cast covering my whole leg. My brain played tricks on me, bringing forward the painful events that led to my broken leg. The memories danced before my eyes, a twisted ballet of passion, violence and broken bones. It felt like my brain was explaining it to me. I know it's weird.
It all began the night of Doctor Bradley's murder, I felt defiant just thinking about it.
I had lured him into a web of seduction, 10 years to the day from when he raped me. We were in a dangerous dance, but beneath the excitement of our illicit affair, since the doctor was a married man, there was darkness.
My fingers instinctively traced the top edge of my red cast covering my right leg, a physical reminder of the brutality that unfolded that fateful night.
During our intimate encounter, the doctor's true nature emerged. He was sadistic and had a hunger for power and control, so when I asked him if he remembered me from 10 years ago, I should have known what to expect. I became his prisoner, trapped in his twisted desires to break me again mentally and physically.
The memory of that moment came to the surface with fear. You never forget the fear.
In a desperate bid to escape, I kicked the doctor while I fought back. He was stronger and grabbed my right foot, twisting my leg in an impossible angle, then with a sharp tug broke my leg with a sickening cracking sound echoing through the air.
I winced, rubbing my broken leg, the memory of the pain resonating through my long leg cast.
But before I collapsed to the ground, I stood, tried to walk away and that futile move was when the second bone in my leg broke from being already cracked by the Doctor's strong hands. Even with a broken leg, I refused doctor Madley's dominance. I was prepared for all occasions but I needed to get to my small purse.
With every ounce of strength left, I crawled to my purse, sliding my broken leg along the floor. To his surprise and my happiness, I pulled out the gun from my purse and shot him between the eyes, leaving him lifeless on the cold floor.
I never passed out in the ambulance and at the hospital. After the last few hours, my broken leg weighed me down both physically and emotionally. It was a constant reminder of the events that had led me to this moment. I guessed looking at my leg that I had a badly fractured leg.
The nurse asked for my name in a gentle tone.
"I'm Isabelle Lemaire,"
As I lay on a gurney being transported through the emergency room, my broken leg causing waves of throbbing pain, I couldn't help but look around for the other patients. My attention was drawn to a young woman, approximately 18 years old. She had a pink cast on her lower left leg, she was wearing her cheerleader's uniform, and her crutches rested by her side. It appears to be a joyous moment for her since her boyfriend was kissing her with his hand rubbing her cast.
"I will be out of my cast today," She says, staring at my leg.
"I'm just starting the process. I just broke my leg"
"Good luck" She said, grabbing her crutches and making her way to the cast room.
Once in the X-ray room, the radiology technician greeted me, and she guided me onto the examination table with a reassuring smile making sure I didn't put any weight on my right leg.
"Stay still, Isabelle," the beautiful technician instructed me, positioning the X-ray machine over my leg. I clenched my fists for no reason, as the machine captured images of my fractured limb.
As the X-rays were taken, I couldn't help but feel a shiver. How was I going to be a realtor on crutches with a leg in a cast or a boot? The X-ray probably captured details of my broken leg that took away the boot option since the technician quietly said
"Clean but bad break, but the doctor will explain" She said and moved me to the next step.
After the X-rays, I found myself in an examination room, waiting for the arrival of the doctor. Dr. Esposito, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a stethoscope draped around her neck, entered the room, offering a warm smile.
"Good afternoon, Isabelle. I'm Dr. Esposito," she introduced herself, extending a hand. I shook it, attempting to match her smile with my own but with no success.
Dr. Esposito reviewed my X-rays.
"I'm afraid that you have a clean fracture in your tibia and fibula," she explained, pointing to the X-rays displayed on the light-box.
"Your leg will be in a cast with no weight bearing at all on it for 6 weeks."
"Wow. But since it's a clean break I guess it will be short cast?"
"Good try Isabelle, I'm afraid not" She smiled.
Part 2 to come.
K
Saturday, June 24, 2023
The Secret Society conclusion
Let me tell you something. Upon returning home from an extended hospital stay due to a leg fracture, the last thing I desired was to be disturbed by a late-night phone call at 11:30 pm while I was attempting to sleep.
"Hope I didn't wake you up. How's your leg?"
"Broken but you know that already"
"I have a surprise for you. Can you make sure you take my call on Saturday at 7 pm?"
"Karla, why don't you tell me now, I'm not in the mood for games." And she hung up.
On Saturday, I found myself comfortably positioned on the couch, dressed in cozy clothes that provided both warmth and comfort. My broken leg, in its long cast, rested on soft pillows. My phone buzzed but I waited to answer.
"Well I had my phone close by just like you asked, are you going to tell me what game you are playing this time? Last time was very painful" I said, rubbing my cast. My cast started at my foot and extended just after my knee this time. The angle of the cast was more accentuated and to be honest I wasn't sure why.
"I'm sorry that WE broke your leg Veronica. WE needed something on you so that you didn't write the article. WE didn't want a tell tell book either."
"Here you go with the WE...What is the surprise? before I die from excitement." I smiled this time.
"OK, my crystal ball is telling me that you need to answer your door."
"There is nobody at my..." I was about to finish my sentence when somebody knocked at my door.
I slid off the couch my black cast, pain ran up my broken leg. I grabbed my crutches and walked to the door that I swung open to find Karla smiling, leaning on a carved walking stick, still in her walking cast. She limped forward and wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight.
"I'm so sorry Veronica"
She kissed me, our lips met and the excitement surged through my body being in her presence. She slipped her tongue into my mouth, I reached out with my tongue and they met. The beautiful kiss went on for a long time pressed against each other's. She backed away, staring at me, looking at my broken leg.
"That's a nice surprise" I said
Karla slid her walking stick against my cast, slowly moving up my broken leg, between my legs and inches before my vagina she dropped it to the floor.
"Just try to stand still on your crutches Veronica, let me do all the work" She moaned in my ear.
I stood squeezing my crutches while Karla began to unbutton my blouse. I felt her hand all over my breasts before she unhooked my bra and took it off. She bent down kissing my hard nipples.
I slowly made my way to the couch on my crutches and Karla joined me. She was all over me, rubbing my broken leg but before long her fingers were inside me, pleasing me like never before. With our hunger satisfied we laid in each other's arms and fell asleep.
The Secret Society felt so far away from our life while we talked the next morning. Can we make this relationship work I wondered.
The next few weeks did go as we figured it would. I moved in with Karla in her beautiful house and let go of my apartment. While on crutches it was difficult to continue my photography career so I became a researcher for a local news organisation. While Karla's broken leg had healed completely, mine was taking longer than expected. I received a new full leg cast with a rubber heel so that eventually I would be able to start putting partial weight on my broken leg.
While Karla was at work and at the Secret Society, I would spend part of my days at the university library doing research. One day walking into our home on my crutches I found Karla looking at photographs of women wearing all kinds of cast on a fetish site. The ladies were beautiful but nothing compared to Karla.
"Karla, how about we start our own fetish site and give all the profits to The Secret Society? I would take care of all the photos and videos. You do some of the modelling and find new ladies"
"You think we could really do that?"
"Yes but under only one condition, all recreational cast. No breaking of bones" I said very seriously while rubbing my long black cast.
Karla was our first model and she was so good at it. We offered from clean content to bare breasts to full nudity while always casted or wheelchair users. We didn't want perfection, no faking or retouching of the photos. We wanted them to look real.
Before long I was limping around the photo shoot in the locals of the Society that offered both the perfect safe and secret location for us and the ladies.They all looked fantastic but Karla was always my favourite to photograph. We went from coworkers, to lovers to a very happy couple, the time of a few broken bones.
The end
K
The Secret Society part 8
We were excited to get to my place, eager to examine the photo shoot on a larger screen. Retrieving Karla's crutches from the trunk, I carefully handed them to her, knowing that her broken leg was still causing her considerable discomfort and she was still unable to put any weight on it.
Karla slid out of the car gracefully, and positioned her crutches. We made our way inside, and I guided her to my spare room, which served as an office. Karla leaned her crutches against the wall and took a seat beside me. I initiated the process of downloading the first set of photos from my camera. I was meticulously identifying technical flaws when I stole a glance at Karla.
"You look totally amazing in these Karla," I remarked, pointing out a particular shot where she stood and a younger woman with a sprained ankle passed by behind her.
"Do you think her ankle was medically sprained?"
Karla looked at me before responding,
"Do you know who she is?" My curiosity was piqued.
"No. Not at a first glance anyway."
"She's a renowned U.S. gymnast who suffered a mental breakdown. She needed a break from the demanding world of competition, so we created a fictional narrative for her. But, Veronica, you must promise me that you'll never, ever divulge this information."
I nodded solemnly. A sense of urgency compelled me to reveal a secret of my own.
"Karla, there's something I need to confess," I said, hesitating slightly.
Her gaze fixed on me, "What secret?"
"When we first met, I was actually working undercover for a magazine, investigating The Secret Society," I revealed, my voice filled with both vulnerability and anticipation.
For what seemed like 10 minutes my confession hung in the air, Karla's expression transformed from curiosity to shock to madness. She leaned forward for her crutches, retrieved them, positioning them under her arms to leave my place.
In her haste, one of the crutches slipped from her grasp, causing her to lose balance and stumble forward. The excruciating pain surged through her broken leg as her cast hit the hardwood floor, intensifying her madness. In that minute, she was betrayed by me and then her own body.
Time stood still. It was an expression I had often used to describe intense moments, but this particular moment was so different. The sharp gasp from Karla's lips, her delicate sound of distress from her physical pain and my betrayal, freezes me in my tracks.
I offered my assistance to Karla. I supported her as she slowly rose from the floor. For the first time since meeting her, her cast was a visible reminder that her leg was really broken.
She grabbed her backpack made for women and she left. Not a single word escaped her lips.
10 minutes later I had resigned but the damage in my relationship with Karla was done.
Three weeks later, I received a message from Karla's secretary, informing me that she wanted to have a meeting with me in her office. As I entered her office, I found Karla seated in her chair, her crutches leaning against the wall. Her injured leg was now in a striking red short leg cast, ending 2 inches below her knee. It was still non weight bearing
"I assume you want to discuss my association with the magazine? First and foremost, let me say how sorry I am for lying to you or not being completely transparent," I began.
Karla replied, "That's water under the bridge," as she sat there, looking stunning with her legs crossed. She ran her fingers along her exposed toes at the end of the red cast, gazing at me intently.
"I want to clarify that my intention was never to spy on you personally. The magazine was merely intrigued by The Secret Society. I decided to leave the magazine without sharing any information, such as locations or photos. Your secret remains safe," I explained.
"It's difficult to trust anything you say right now," she retorted.
"I completely understand," I acknowledged.
"However, if you're willing to do a challenge of our choosing for the next eight weeks, we can put your lapse in judgement behind us," she proposed, gripping her crutches and rising from her seat. She then walked towards me on her crutches, and my gaze was fixated on her leg, her red cast, and her crutches. I responded without hesitation,
"Yes, I'm in." She kissed me.
2 weeks later we walked in the main room of The Secret Society. Once I was on the bed in what looked like a hospital room, my heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. The sterile white walls of the room seemed to close in on me, what if they break my leg? Was that the commitment that they expected from me?
I glanced over at Karla, my best friend, who stood beside me on her crutches. Her short red cast was now a walking cast with a rubber heel under the cast for support. Partial weight bearing for 2 more weeks. I was surprised when a doctor and nurse entered the room, calm and professional looking.
"Why a doctor for a recreational leg cast?" I asked Karla. She smiled and didn't answer with her rubber heel on the floor.
He explained the process of applying a full leg cast on my left leg. I knew the process, what I didn't know was that he was planning a plaster cast. First the soft cotton padding, explaining that it would provide a cushion between my skin and the rigid plaster. The cool touch of the padding against my leg offered a brief moment of relief from the tension that had built up within me.
As the doctor worked his way up my leg, layering the plaster one roll at a time, I couldn't help watching each roll dipped into water before being applied. The sexy nurse's skilled hands moved all over my plaster cast, rubbing it with care, ensuring that my first recreational leg cast was going to be perfect.
Meanwhile, Karla stood beside me on her walking cast with one crutch only. Her other crutch leaned against the bed, I squeezed it, loving the feeling that it offered.
The weight of the cast gradually settled onto my leg. The warmth radiating from the drying plaster created a nice sensation. With each passing moment, I could feel the cast becoming a part of me, a symbol of my integration to The Secret Society.
Boy was I wrong.
Finally, the doctor completed the cast and left. The nurse took a step back, my full leg cast now reached from my toes all the way up to my thigh, literally rubbing against my vagina. It went way too high on my thigh. Wetness was forming from the contact.
As I glanced over at Karla, her expression was warning me and then she said
"You haven't seen nothing yet"
She was so right. The doctor came back in, rolling a strange device that he carefully positioned at the foot of my bed. With a smooth motion, the device slid forward, securely covering a portion of my plaster cast, my foot and the lower section of my leg, rendering it immobile, I would say prisoner of that device.
"What is this for Karla?" I asked
"You look stunning Veronica and your cast adds extra. However, The Secret Society has a different plan for you, since you cheated us. We want to give you a chance to join us again and we want to be able to trust you."
"That's all I want"
"Then we need something over you. Like a proof that you may have self injured yourself"
"But I would never do that Karla. Never"
"That's why we have this device here" She said and pressed the start button.
Jesus the device started rotating my long leg cast counterclockwise. Right away the plaster cast made sense. I tried to resist the panic that was taking hold of me. I steadied myself, fighting back any signs of pain or distress. I closed my eyes while the top portion of my cast was rubbing against my vagina.
When I reopened my eyes, one of my hands was between my legs with 2 fingers inside me teasing my clitoris. The cast was resisting the twisting.
Karla was staring, my fingers were in and out faster, eventually my plaster cast succumbed to the pressure, snapping at my knee and over the ankle.
Moaning from pain and pleasure I said "Please stop it, you won"
"Soon, very soon," Karla said
The orgasm shook me while I was staring at Karla limping around the room on her walking cast, her crutches were obviously going to be mine. I passed out when my tibia and fibula broke from the twisting and pressure.
She then pressed the stop button. Too late or right on time depending on your point of view.
Conclusion to come
K
The Secret Society part 7
As I leaned closer to the screen, my heart raced with anticipation as I prepared to disclose some of the shocking truth to my boss during our Zoom call. My investigative journey had led me to uncover a secret society of some power and influence and more importantly answering to various sexual needs of women.
With a deep breath, I made a calculated decision to provide the essential facts, carefully navigating the fine line between disclosure and discretion. The fate of this story and my future at the magazine hung in the balance. What about a possible future with Karla, what about Karla's leg?
2 hours later, I stepped into her hospital room. My gaze instantly gravitated towards the sight Karla, lying on the bed. Her beautiful hair spilled over the pillow, while her injured leg was in a white cast.
I approached her slowly, my eyes fixated on her long medical cast this time. It began at her delicate toes, embracing her foot with maximum support. The cast extended upward, following the sexy shape of her calf and upper leg to protect her broken bones.
"Wow you really did it this time" I said while my fingers touched her broken leg.
I saw the screws embedded in the cast, holding her broken bones securely in place. As I gently touched her leg, my fingers traced the length of her thigh, feeling the firmness of her leg cast. She was dozing in and out so I let her sleep and promised her that I would be back.
A few days later, stepping into Karla's hospital room I noticed right away that her external traction was removed from her broken leg. She now was in a black cast that extended from her toes all the way up to her thigh, completely immobilizing her broken limb. She was ready to go.
Since I had never broken anything before, I watched with concern as Karla dealt with her injury. I knew that it wasn't her first fracture and that she was very mobile on crutches, but still she would need some assistance during the next 10 weeks.
While we waited for the nurse and her wheelchair, I couldn't stop thinking of The Secret Society. To be honest I had mixed feelings about it but it wasn't the time or the place to bring it up.
The nurse positioned the wheelchair beside the bed and ensured it was securely locked in place. Karla slowly sat up, her radiant smile masking the pain she must have been experiencing. The second nurse positioned herself on the side of the bed closest to her broken leg, gently supporting her cast throughout the movement.
Step by step, they guided her to the edge of the bed, Karla firmly planted her good foot on the floor for stability, while allowing her broken leg to hang slightly above the floor. She settled gracefully into her wheelchair. The beautiful female nurse gently cradled her fragile, broken leg, lifting it with gentle grace and placed the black cast on the leg rest of the wheelchair.
"Thank you," Karla said.
I approached Karla and despite the evident pain in her eyes, she smiled. We exchanged a brief moment of silent understanding, acknowledging all the pain she had endured, the road to recovery that lay ahead and the elephant in the room. Did she do it intentionally?
Gathering her crutches in her hands, I pushed her out of the hospital towards my car. I gently lifted Karla's long leg cast off the leg rest, taking extra care not to bang her broken leg. When lowering her cast, I could see the anguish on her face as a sharp, searing pain shot through her broken leg. Leaning against me for support, she stood firmly on her good leg while keeping her broken leg elevated and slowly made her way into the back seat.
Once she was comfortably settled, I placed her crutches in the trunk.
Karla wanted me to document her ordeal with multiple photos. In a way on Instagram she became like a queen with her high heel on her good foot, full leg black cast and beautiful clothes from her store.
For me the attraction was not only her sexy legs, breasts, and beautiful deep eyes. Now it was also her long leg cast , bent at the knee, that seemed to float all the time. On almost every photo we see her full cast, or the foot portion of her leg cast, but always her long slim toes begging for attention. For my attention.
The Secret Society was a place where you could also act on vulnerability and Karla knew how to use it to her advantage. Looking back at photos of hers, leaning on her crutches, her broken leg hovering gently above the ground, capturing the attention and curiosity of all the members. She made her heavy cast look weightless.
I was comparing Karla the model, elegant, sexy and the beautiful but injured business woman. She had the ability to rise above this new challenge and transform a badly broken leg into an integral part of her. For me all this was a possible captivating story for my magazine about The Secret Society.
I knew I needed to tell the truth to Karla about my assignment.
She was clearly enjoying her broken leg, the pain was under control and she wanted to do a different type of photo shoot. I was ready to do anything.
"Let's do it publicly at The Secret Society main building"
She walked on her crutches to the double door and opened them wide. I took photos and the main room was in full display in the background.
Behind Karla I saw a young woman gingerly navigating her way on crutches. Her injured ankle was wrapped in ace bandages, showing beneath the hem of her jeans. Possibly a sprained ankle. For every step she put all her weight on her crutches. She smiled at me and I took her photo. As she hobbled forward, there was an undeniable grace in the way she adapted to her disability.
I went back to Karla, she was leaning on her crutches when she began unbuttoning her blouse. When it was unbuttoned, she balanced on her good leg and took it off, leaving her in the pencil skirt, lace bra, full leg cast and 3 inch heel on her good foot. While smiling I took a few photos.
"Can you unzip my skirt please Veronica?" She asked me, smiling, licking her lips.
I moved my hands down to her skirt and unzipped it. The skirt slid along Karla's cast and to the floor. Using crutches for support, she stepped out of the skirt. I could see her hard nipples showing through the thin fabric of her bra. She was so beautiful in that cast, injured.
She then turned around and peeked back over her shoulders. Just like her long slim cast showed the contour of her leg to perfection, her tight panties showed the shape of her ass. From looking at Karla through the lens of my camera, my hands were shaking from the potential of touching her.
I put my camera away and walked behind Karla. I kissed her long neck while sliding my hands to her front caressing her breasts. I removed her bra and turned her slowly on her good leg, I was facing this beautiful woman that was biting her lower lip.
I was about to kiss Karla when I noticed behind her in the main room a stunning woman in a wheelchair glided gracefully through the main room towards us. She was mid 30's and despite the possible loss of one leg, she was confident and so sexy. Her dress accentuates her curves, hugging her figure in all the right places sitting in her wheelchair.
She rolled closer and stared at both of us. My hands were all over Karla and the gaze of this beautiful amputee was fixed on Karla's long leg cast floating off the floor. She seemed to move effortlessly, her crippled body making one with her wheelchair just like Karla did with her own crutches.
Karla turned and looked so innocently on her crutches at the sexy and vulnerable woman in the wheelchair. I started shooting again, getting photos of Karla and then of our mystery guess. From her smiling face to her sexy leg in a black pantyhose and 5 inch heel, that was sitting in the foot rest of her chair.
One evening, I was never going to forget.
Part 8 to come
K