Au-Delà du Plâtre et des Béquilles : Évolution d'une Attirance. Partie 2

Nous n'obtenons pas toujours ce que nous voulons, et ma fascination pour les plâtres et les béquilles a pris une tournure étrange lors d'un incident plutôt douloureux lors d'un entraînement de gymnastique. 

C'était un mardi après-midi, et nous étions en plein entraînement intense après une mauvaise performance le vendredi soir précédent contre nos rivaux numéro 1. L'adrénaline montait, la pression de faire mieux aussi et j'étais déterminée à tout donner sur la poutre.

Mes pieds touchent la surface de bois, et je commence par une série de sauts, mes pieds quittant la poutre avec la légèreté d'une plume. Chaque réception est précise, chaque impulsion calculée pour maximiser la hauteur et l'élégance. Je me sens en harmonie avec la poutre.

La fin de la routine approche, et je prépare ma descente. Une série finale de sauts périlleux me sépare de la poutre, et je m'élance dans les airs avec une détermination sans faille, mais ma jambe droite atterri de manière maladroite. En un instant, le cauchemar, le rêve que j'avais espéré devenait réalité. 

En un instant, ce qui aurait dû être un rêve s'est transformé en cauchemar, devenant ainsi une réalité inattendue pour plusieurs et souhaitée pour moi.

Ma cheville s'est tordue à un angle anormal alors que je perdais l'équilibre une fois au sol. Une douleur lancinante a traversé mon pied, ma cheville et ma jambe. Je me souviens de la sensation de ma cheville qui roulait et de la douleur vive qui a suivi. Une sensation incroyable.

Je suis tombée au sol, agrippant ma cheville qui pulsait, pendant que mon entraîneur et le préparateur accouraient vers moi. À en juger par la douleur, c'était forcément cassé, aucun doute, mon premier plâtre approchait rapidement.

Mes coéquipières se sont précipitées à mes côtés. Il était évident que quelque chose était sérieusement cassé. Ma cheville avait enflé presque instantanément, et la douleur était insupportable, résistant à la tentation de la touchée de me toucher, mais surtout ne me délivre pas du mal…J’en ai besoin.

Combien de temps allais-je devoir porter un plâtre ? Je me demandais en gémissant de douleur et en souriant intérieurement.

L'entraîneur de l'équipe de gymnastique a appelé le médecin sportif de l'école, qui est arrivé avec sa trousse médicale. Elle a soigneusement évalué ma cheville, recherchant des signes de foulure ou de fracture. Il n'a pas fallu longtemps pour confirmer que c'était probablement une fracture, mais j'avais besoin d'une radiographie pour confirmer. Un os cassé douloureux qui nécessite de l'attention, des soins.

On m'a aidée à me mettre debout sur ma bonne jambe, et même le simple fait de poser ma cheville blessée sur le sol de la salle de gym m'envoyait des vagues de douleur. On m'a escortée en sautillant sur le côté, où le médecin sportif a commencé le processus d'application d'un sac de glace pour réduire l'enflure. J'ai regardé ma cheville être doucement enveloppée dans un bandage de compression, procurant un certain soulagement de la douleur.

Ma cheville, maintenant enveloppée dans le bandage avec la glace, semblait étrange, lourde et vulnérable. J'adorais être vulnérable, j'en avais tellement besoin.

On m'a remis une paire de béquilles pour m'aider à me déplacer, et en essayant délicatement de m'appuyer dessus, je m'émerveilles de la façon dont ces simples outils pouvaient me fournir le soutien dont j'avais besoin pour me déplacer malgré ma blessure.

Ce jour-là, je suis sortie de la salle de gym sur mes béquilles pour me rendre à l'hôpital pour les radiographies. J'ai réalisé que j'allais être mise sur la touche pendant un certain temps, manquant une grande partie de la saison, mais j’allais soutenir mes coéquipières. Cette expérience serait l'un des premiers chapitres de mon appréciation des plâtres et des béquilles.

La douleur dans ma cheville pulsait à chaque pas, même sans mettre de poids dessus, et les béquilles offraient un soutien si important. Tous ont regardé avec des expressions sympathiques alors que je quittais pour l'hôpital, l'entraînement continuait sans moi.

On m'a emmenée à l'hôpital pour des radiographies afin de déterminer l'étendue des dommages à ma cheville et ma jambe. L'attente des résultats pesait lourdement sur mon esprit. Je fantasmais sur un beau plâtre sur ma jambe. De quelle couleur serait-il ?

Dans le service de radiologie, on m'a demandé de rester immobile pendant que le technicien positionne la machine, et l'atmosphère froide et clinique de la pièce contrastait vivement avec la camaraderie de l'équipe de gymnastique.

Pendant que les radiographies étaient prises, je ne pouvais m'empêcher de me demander à nouveau le résultat. Serait-ce une entorse sévère nécessitant des semaines de récupération, ou y aurait-il une fracture nécessitant un joli plâtre ? L'incertitude me rendait folle, et je retenais mon souffle pendant que les images étaient traitées.

Une fois les radiographies terminées, on m'a ramenée dans la salle d'examen pour attendre les résultats. L'air était lourd d'anticipation pendant que j'attendais que le médecin arrive. Quand il est finalement arrivé, il a apporté à la fois du soulagement et de l'appréhension.

Il s'est avéré que j'avais une entorse significative du troisième degré, une blessure grave nécessitant un autre type de soutien. Le médecin a expliqué soigneusement le plan de traitement, et j'ai écouté attentivement, désireuse de comprendre ce qui n'allait pas.

Je voulais comprendre pourquoi ce n'était pas cassé. Pour faire mieux la prochaine fois.

Ils ont recommandé une botte en plastique, un dispositif conçu pour stabiliser et soutenir ma cheville blessée tout en permettant une certaine mobilité. Ce serait un pas de plus vers la guérison, mais cela signifiait aussi s'adapter à une nouvelle forme de soutien.

Alors que la botte était ajustée confortablement autour de ma cheville blessée, cela semblait être un compromis entre la liberté de mouvement et la nécessité de stabilisation. Cela procurait un sentiment réconfortant de sécurité, me permettant de retrouver progressivement ma mobilité mais…

Ce n'était pas le plâtre que je voulais tellement.

Quittant l'hôpital ce jour-là sur mes béquilles, je ressentais une détermination renouvelée. Bien que ma saison de gymnastique ait pris fin brusquement, j'étais prête à affronter le parcours de la récupération de front pour un retour possible.

Ce soir-là, de retour chez moi, j'essayais de trouver le sommeil, nue sauf pour ma botte protégeant ma cheville blessée sous un léger drap. Mon corps était bouillant, et je sentais que j'étais encore sous l'effet de l'excitation physique et sexuelle de m'être presque brisé la cheville.  

Plus que j’y pensais, nue sur mon lit, plus mon excitation grimpait et plus cela me donnait des envies de me casser une jambe ou une cheville. Je caressais mes seins doucement et mes mains descendirent d'elles-même entre mes jambes.

Je ne savais pas encore que cette expérience serait l'un des premiers chapitres de mon parcours vers plâtres et béquilles mais, j'étais plus déterminée que jamais à avoir un plâtre.

La suite à venir.

K

Clip 351 Broken foot, cast, cast shoe, crutches

The President's daughter part 6 (audio file)

 Part 6

Clip 350 Broken foot, crutches, cast

Clip 349 broken ankle, boot, crutches, part 2

The president's daughter part 6

After our encounter with the professor in the elevator, we finally reached Mia's apartment. It was a relief to be in the familiar surroundings of her home, away from his prying eyes. With a playful grin, she turned to me and said,

"Sarah, could you do me a favor? Can you paint my toes in a lovely shade of pink to match my cast?"

I couldn't help but smile at her request. It was a small but meaningful gesture, a way for her to maintain a sense of style, even with her leg in a cast. I nodded eagerly, appreciating the opportunity to bring a touch of femininity to her recovery.

"Of course, Mia, let's make your toes match your cast perfectly."

Mia settled comfortably on the couch, her broken leg propped up with cushions for support. I gathered the necessary supplies, including a delicate shade of pink nail polish that would complement her cast.

As I carefully painted her toenails, I watched her contented smile. Once I had finished, Mia examined her freshly painted toes with satisfaction. I slid my foot along her pink cast, she looked at me with lust in her beautiful blue eyes and I felt her wetness from between her legs against my toes.

I was ever so slowly rubbing her and holding on to her broken leg.

She was about to lean back but I stopped her, I pulled her up kissing her lips, then her long neck and breasts. She removed her t-shirt, no bra so I took one of her nipples into my mouth

I sucked on it, lightly pulling with her teeth. With my right hand I caressed Mia's other breast, squeezing her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

"Oh Sarah..." She moaned and the whole situation was so erotic.

She moved her cast between my legs, my vagina rubbing against it, I continued sucking her nipple. My hand slowly moved down and I slowly slid my finger in and out, stopping to rub her clitoris.

I lifted my head to stare in her eyes and she kissed my lips, her eyes were lost in her sexual pleasure with her orgasm building up. She kept moaning in my mouth pushing her broken leg harder and harder between my legs.

"Oh God Mia, I don't want to hurt you."

Her whole body started shaking from the orgasm including her long pink cast and like that wasn't enough she pushed two fingers inside me thrusting in and out so fast. Then three until I totally lost control and a crazy wild orgasm pleasured my body. We both collapsed back on the bed, our eyes closed.

Three days later, Mia and I were preparing for a black-tie cocktail event at the White House. The occasion was significant, with the Canadian Prime Minister and his wife as the honored guests. It required meticulous preparation, especially for Mia, who had her full leg encased in her vibrant pink cast, along with crutches.

Mia was in the process of fastening her black evening gown that flowed along her body. Her long pink cast extended below her gown, making it a striking contrast to the elegance of her dress and she loved that. Her choice of shoe was a beautiful lower heel pump designed to accommodate her usage of crutches.

As she turned to me, I was speechless. It was an understatement to say she was resilient and stylish dealing with her broken leg.

"I must say you look absolutely stunning,"

I, on the other hand, was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo, with a thigh holster for my SIG pistol, a constant companion in my line of work. The sleek design emphasized my role as Mia's protector for the night.

As I made the final adjustments to my appearances, Mia walked towards me on her crutches. She had a playful smile and an unmistakable curiosity. She approached me, her fingers gently tracing the outline of my pistol.

With a smile, she looked up at me and said, "You always look so commanding in that tuxedo my sexy secret agent." Her lips met mine in a soft and playful kiss.

As we prepared to leave for the White House, the challenge of getting into the car with her elegant gown and her long leg cast became apparent. She carefully navigated her way to the car. I held the car door open, ensuring that her path was clear and she leaned on me.

She not so gracefully slid herself in the car's back seat, arranging her gown to fit comfortably. I couldn't help but smile at my athletic girlfriend facing her adversity with such grace.

"I love you Mia," I whispered..

She looked back at me with a twinkle in her eye, a mixture of determination and affection. " I love you too, my secret agent, I couldn't have done it without you, Sarah. We make a great team."

The grandeur of the White House stood before us, an iconic symbol of American history and diplomacy. As we arrived at the entrance, Mia and I stepped out of the car, she leaned against me until she re-positioned her crutches under her arms. The arrival of the President's daughter was so not Mia style since it was met with a hushed awe as she walked in, a radiant smile on her lips. Mia never looked for attention.

The White House staff greeted her with the utmost respect. Mia's charm and warmth endeared her to those she encountered, her interactions filled with grace and humility. My eyes remained ever watchful, ensuring her safety and security even if the White House was very safe for her.

The arrival of Mia's mother, the President of the United States, along with her distinguished guest, the Prime Minister of Canada, took both Mia and me by surprise. We had been prepared for their presence, but what we didn't anticipate was the condition of the Prime Minister's wife, who had recently suffered a terrible car accident.

As the motorcade pulled up to the White House entrance, the grandeur of the event seemed to momentarily fade into the background. The Prime Minister's love and care for his wife were evident as he stepped out of the motorcade. He delicately assisted her out of the car, picked her up and gently positioned her in the wheelchair, ensuring her broken limbs were comfortably and securely arranged. Then he kissed her cheek. His actions spoke volumes of their deep connection and the support they provided for each other during her recovery. She was elegantly dressed and seated in a wheelchair, her condition very serious and yet she looked beautiful,

Her left leg was in a full leg cast, extending from her thigh down to mid foot, with her leg resting straight out on the leg rest of the wheelchair. The cast was pristine white, contrasting with her dark gown, and it held her broken leg securely in place. A little red sock covered her toes, adding a touch of style to the otherwise clinical appearance of the cast.

Her lower right leg was also ensconced in a white cast, a smaller one that stopped below her knee that contrasted with her full leg cast. The cast on her right leg protected her shattered ankle.

In addition to her leg casts, her left arm was bent at a 90-degree angle, immobilized in yet another white cast. Her presence in a wheelchair and her multiple casts took me back in my memory, to me and Mia in bed with her hard cast between my legs.

Mia's reaction was immediate, her eyes widened with surprise, and she exchanged a knowing glance with me while squeezing her crutches handles. The connection between them was unspoken but powerful. Mia, with her own leg cast and crutches but she could not understand all the challenges that the Prime Minister's wife was facing. Her expression was one of compassion and solidarity as she watched the guest's arrival.

I was instantly alert. The arrival of the Prime Minister's wife, with her visible injuries and wheelchair bound, added a layer of complexity and I'm sorry to say, sexual interest to the evening's proceedings. She was sexy in her wheelchair, I imagined Mia with a long arm cast touching me all over.

Amidst the diplomatic conversations and the elegant ambiance of the White House, I observed Mia approaching me with a bright and infectious smile. With a chuckle, I greeted her, "What's got you in such a good mood tonight?"

Her smile remained as she walked closer, her broken leg made a small contact with my leg, and then she posed an unexpected question,

Part 7 to come
K

 Au-Delà du Plâtre et des Béquilles : Évolution d'une Attirance Prologue

• 
  

J'ai remarqué pour la première fois mon attirance pour les plâtres et les béquilles quand j'étais étudiante. C'était une fascination inhabituelle que je ne pouvais pas vraiment comprendre à l'époque. La fascination était physique, pour le plâtre et les béquilles, mais aussi sensuelle et très sexuelle. Combien de nuits ai-je passé à lire des histoires et à regarder des vidéos d'accidents, suivis des activités quotidiennes et routinières avec le beau plâtre et les béquilles.

Je me souviens vivement de ma première rencontre avec un plâtre médical. C'était une camarade de classe qui s'était cassé la cheville en jouant au soccer. Elle est venue à l'école avec un plâtre en dessous du genou et des béquilles pour la soutenir pendant qu'elle se déplaçait. Je me suis retrouvé captivé par l'expérience.

Au début, je pensais que c'était simplement de la curiosité ou de la sympathie pour sa blessure. Mais au fil des jours, j'ai réalisé que c'était quelque chose de plus. Dans mon esprit fou, c'était indéniable, la façon dont elle se déplaçait avec son genou plié, gardant son plâtre hors du sol, elle était si désirable.

La façon dont elle devait compter sur ces béquilles pour se déplacer, et la vulnérabilité qu'elle montrait. C'était comme s'il y avait une connexion invisible qui se formait entre ma fascination, sa fragilité et mon attirance sexuelle pour elle et son plâtre. 

Quand nous nous sommes embrassés pour la première fois dans sa chambre trois jours plus tard, j'ai secrètement gardé ma main sur son charmant plâtre tout le temps, elle n’aimait vraiment pas ce plâtre mais moi je souhaitais tellement que ce soit ma cheville ou même ma jambe complète qui soit cassée.

Au fil du temps, je ne pouvais plus nier l'attraction. Je me suis retrouvé à rechercher activement des images et des vidéos en ligne de personnes avec des plâtres et des béquilles. Ce n'était pas quelque chose que je discutais ouvertement avec qui que ce soit, de peur de leur jugement ou de leur incompréhension. C'était mon secret le plus intime, une partie de moi que je peinais à comprendre. Comment aurais-je pu expliquer que j'étais une femme attirée par ceux qui avaient besoin d'un plâtre et de béquilles ?

Cependant, c'est pendant cette période que j'ai trouvé un exutoire unique pour mes sentiments et ma fascination. J'ai commencé à écrire des nouvelles, au début principalement centrées sur des femmes avec des plâtres et des béquilles. À travers mes histoires, je pouvais explorer, exprimer et repousser les limites des émotions complexes et des attirances physiques et sexuelles que je ressentais.

Cela me permettait d'approfondir le sujet et de comprendre les subtilités de l'expérience humaine lorsqu'on fait face à des blessures, à la douleur, au plaisir sexuel et au besoin de soutien. L'écriture est devenue un moyen de canaliser ma fascination d’une façon créative, un monde privé où je pouvais explorer les profondeurs de mes sentiments et de mon attirance sexuelle pour cette belle attraction.

En vieillissant, mon attirance pour les plâtres et les béquilles est devenue un aspect plus accepté de ma vie. J'ai commencé à comprendre que ce n'était pas seulement à propos des objets physiques eux-mêmes, mais plutôt de l'idée de vulnérabilité, de résilience, de sexualité et du plaisir que la douleur provoque en moi. 

La vue de quelqu'un surmontant une blessure, utilisant des béquilles pour avancer dans la vie, était incroyablement excitante pour moi.

Aujourd'hui, mon attirance pour les plâtres et les béquilles s'est transformée en plusieurs aspects des raisons pour lesquelles une personne pourrait porter un plâtre. On pourrait dire que j'ai une plus grande appréciation pour l'esprit humain. Je peux maintenant voir le plaisir d'un plâtre récréatif plutôt que de toujours chercher le plâtre médical comme je le faisais depuis des années.

J'admire la force et la détermination qu'il faut pour s'adapter à des situations ou nous ne pouvons mettre du poid sur une jambe, plâtré ou non. Je suis tellement excitée par la beauté de nos imperfections. Entorse, fracture, amputation, membre paralysé sont tous des aspects uniques et non conventionnels de mes attractions, que j'ai fini par accepter comme une partie de qui je suis.

J'ai également appris qu'il est important d'aborder cette attraction avec respect et sensibilité. Je comprends que les personnes avec des blessures ou des handicaps ne sont pas des objets de fascination, mais des individus avec leurs propres histoires et défis. Mon attirance m'a appris à être plus empathique et compréhensif des expériences des autres.

En fin de compte, mon attirance pour les plâtres et les béquilles est un rappel que les connexions humaines et les attirances peuvent être complexes et multifacettes. C'est une partie de mon identité, c'est qui je suis, et il m'a fallu deux divorces pour le comprendre et l'accepter.

K

Clip 348 broken ankle, boot, crutches, part 1

Clip 347 Lovely legs, broken ankle, cast, crutches, SLC

The President's daughter part 5 (audio file)

 Part 5

Clip 346 leg cast, LLC, Hit by a car, broken leg, tibia and fibula, whe...

Clip 345 Sprained ankle, sexy legs, wheelchair part 2

The President's daughter part 5

The day of Mia's scheduled surgery, doctor Ramirez explained the process to us. "Mia, we're going to surgically repair the fractures in your leg. This will involve placing metal plates and screws to stabilize the bones. After the surgery, you'll be in a full leg cast to protect and support your leg during the healing process. The casts will be on your leg for a total of 12 weeks minimum, non weight bearing"

"I'm ready Doctor."

A few days later the worst was behind her, they were going to put a cast on her broken leg. That was a crucial part of the healing process, and it was essential to provide her with stability and support as her multiple fractures mended.

A sexy young male nurse carefully cleaned and prepared her broken leg for casting. The cast technician, a skilled and experienced professional, began by wrapping her leg in layers of soft padding. This padding would provide comfort and cushioning beneath the cast.

I watched with interest as the cast technician expertly moulded the pink cast around Mia's leg. Her eyes were fixed on the process also, I could tell she was feeling excited about the process. She knew that this cast would be a constant companion for a while to both of us.

The cast slowly took shape, encasing Mia's leg from her thigh down to her toes to perfection. It was snug and very shapely. It was designed to immobilize her leg but for me it was so much more. Her fingers tightened around mine as the cast technician worked, and I could see the discomfort on her face.

Finally, the cast was complete, and her long leg was secured in a perfect pink cast, bent at the knee at a 35 degree angle. With each passing day, she would grow stronger and closer to walking again but it was going to be a very long process.

As we left the hospital, I couldn't help but steal a glance at Mia's leg cast in the leg rest of her wheelchair. I could tell she was happy to finally leave the hospital. God knows that cast made her look even sexier than she already was.

However, there was a decision that Mia had made, one that she had shared with me and Madame president alone. Despite the option to return to the White House for her recovery, she had chosen a different path. Instead of returning to the political hub of the nation, she wanted to go back to her college apartment.

Mia wanted to rejoin her college life, support her volleyball team, and wanted to be very close to me, her protector, confidante, and now, something more. I couldn't help but feel a surge of love for this woman I had the privilege of protecting and, more importantly, spending the night in bed with her, her long cast against my leg.

Arriving at the apartment building, I parked the car and turned off the engine. I knew that helping Mia out of the car would require some careful coordination and support. I opened the car door and with a warm smile "Ready to go Mia?" she nodded, her determination shining through, "I was born ready."

I gently helped her out of the car, making sure to support her long cast as she moved. She leaned on me for balance, trusting me. I carefully handed her the crutches, and she gripped them with practised ease, positioned them under her arms and smiled at me.

I leaned into her and spread my legs, allowing her to push that lovely cast between my legs and I kissed her while cupping her left breast. She squeezed her crutches and let out a small moaning sound.

"Oh yes you were born ready baby my dear Mia"

With her crutches and me by her side, we made our way to the entrance of her apartment building with grace and athleticism, even with her leg in a cast. She moved with a fluidity that proved again that she had been on crutches before.

As we approached the three steps leading to the front entrance, she paused for a moment. It was a small but necessary obstacle on her path, and I was there to provide support.

She gracefully slid her long casted leg between the crutches, positioning herself for the ascent. She used crutches and her strong leg to ascend each step, one at a time and I stood close, ready to assist if needed.

We entered the apartment building, and I watched with admiration as she navigated the long lobby towards the elevators. I walked into the elevator, held the door open for Mia. She moved inside, her crutches clacking softly against the floor. I followed closely behind her every step. Inside the elevator, she leaned against the wall for support as the doors closed. The confined space brought us closer together. Our eyes met, and the unspoken connection between us was palpable.

In that moment, unable to resist her, closer since that fateful volleyball practice, I leaned in and kissed Mia gently. It was a tender and affectionate kiss. She stopped and looked at me while standing on her crutches.

Her deep blue eyes looked at me at my clothes and high heels pumps. My skirt was cut way above the knees and hugged my tight ass and hips. My jacket was in the car and that was my mistake, her eyes moved to my Sig-Sauer P229 single action pistol. She then took a step forward towards me and rubbed my breast against my white blouse.

I could feel my hard nipples under her fingers and closed my eyes for a split second. When they opened again, the inner walls of the elevator being highly polished mirror, I was able to look at my sexy but injured girlfriend from various angles. Her blue eyes were piercing while she licked her lips and continued to rub my breasts.

Just as Mia and I shared that moment in the elevator, a sudden jolt brought our connection back to reality. The elevator jerked to a stop, and the doors slid open with a mechanical noise. As the doors revealed the 8th floor, a man in his forties stepped inside. I recognized him as one of Mia's teachers, a caring and concerned look in his brown eyes.

"Hello Mia, I heard about your injury, how's that poor broken leg of yours?"

As the professor greeted Mia in the elevator, his gaze shifted to her casted leg, and his expression turned to one of genuine concern and interest. He leaned in slightly to close for my comfort, as if trying to get a better look of her sexy long legs, especially her injured limb.

Was I jealous or just doing my job?

Mia's pink cast was extending from the top of her thigh down to mid foot. Even if it was slim and form fitting, the length of her cast was a testament to the severity of her injuries, a protective shell that held her fractured bones in place. The surface of the cast was smooth and free of imperfections. I saw how the cast technician who had applied the cast, how much he loved to rub over and over Mia pink cast, recreating her sexy shapes within the hard cast, like a sculptor.

The cast, while functional, was so much more. It was part of our life experience. That she chose pink like mine was years ago, added a touch of personality to her life in a full leg cast.

Mia's toes peeked out from the end of the cast, waiting for me to paint them.

As the professor's gaze kept lingering on, I'm sure he could see the faint impressions of her shapely leg under the cast. The contours of her calf and thigh were still evident, a reminder of her sexy leg. Mia smiled and engaged in a friendly chat with her teacher, sharing her experiences. Their conversation flowed naturally and that's not surprising since Mia has an outgoing and friendly personality.

However, as their conversation continued, I couldn't help but notice that Mia's teacher's gaze occasionally shifted towards me and my exposed firearm. There was something in his expression all of a sudden, an understanding that seemed to pass between us. She's mine buddy.

He turned to me and said, "You're Sarah, right? Mia has mentioned you before."

I nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Yes, I'm Sarah. I'm her... well, I'm here to support her through this."

A knowing smile crossed his face, and he glanced back at Mia, who was leaning on her crutches. "It's good to see someone who cares about Mia so deeply. She's lucky to have you."

As the elevator door opened, we bid her teacher farewell, and we stepped out. The doors closed behind us, and we were left alone once more slowly making our way to her apartment quietly.

Yes she is a lucky lady PROFESSOR and if you know what's good for you...

Part 6 to come
K

Clip 344 Sprained ankle, sexy legs, wheelchair part 1

Clip 343 Motocycle crash, broken leg, cast, SLC

The President's daughter part 4 (audio file)

 Part 4

Clip 342 Broken leg, cast, crutches, SLC

Clip 341 Injured ankle, red dress, crutches, non weight bearing

The President's daughter part4

In that heart-stopping moment, Mia clung to the railing with all her strength, her voice ringing out in a cry for help.

"Sarahhhh!"

Time seemed to slow as I reacted instinctively. In a split second, I noticed the moron that pushed Mia attempting to run past me, without thinking, I swung my right fist, connecting with his jaw, and he crumpled to the ground, knocked out cold.

With a surge of adrenaline, I realized I had no time to reach the second level to pull Mia so I rushed beneath her, my heart pounding in my chest. The students in the classroom were equally shocked but they were frozen on the stop and horrified by the unfolding drama.

Mia struggled to maintain her grip on the railing but she lost it and she began to fall in slow motion from the balcony. In that heart-wrenching instant, I reached out and managed to catch her in my arms, breaking her fall. But we both tumbled to the ground.

The impact was harsh, and I felt the weight of Mia's body press against me but her left and air cast had wrapped around my back before the impact against the floor. The classroom erupted in a chorus of gasps and cries as the shocking accident unfolded before their eyes.

Mia's left leg trapped under me took the brunt of the fall, and the impact was excruciating. I could feel her injured ankle and left leg under me when a bone chilling snap echoed through the room as her ankle gave way. Her tibia and fibula, the two long bones of her lower leg, followed suit, breaking under the immense force of the fall and weight.

Mia let out a scream of pain, and her blue eyes filled with tears. I held her tightly, doing my best to shield her from further harm as we lay on the classroom floor, surrounded by shocked onlookers.

"Call 911" I yelled

The classroom had turned into a scene of chaos and fear, but in that moment, all that mattered to me was Mia's well-being. I whispered words of comfort and reassurance as we waited for help to arrive.

Amid the chaos in the classroom, the arrival of the EMTs was a welcome sight. They swiftly assessed the situation and began to take charge, their expertise evident. One EMT knelt beside Mia and me, her voice calm and reassuring,

"Hi there I'm Emily, We're here to help, Can you tell us what happened?"

I quickly explained the situation, how Mia had fallen from the second level of the classroom, and that she possibly shattered her leg in pieces.

Emily nodded, her focus unwavering, "Thank you for the information. We'll take it from here."

Mia, her face contorted in pain, tried to speak through clenched teeth, "My leg, it hurts so much."

Emily nodded sympathetically, her eyes filled with compassion, "I know Mia We'll do our best to make you more comfortable, Let's start by immobilizing that broken leg."

The EMT's worked efficiently, carefully splinting her broken leg to prevent any further movement. The process was painful, and her cries of anguish filled the air as they secured the splint in place.

"Easy Mia," Emily said soothingly. "We're almost done."

Once the splint was in place, the EMT's carefully lifted Mia onto a stretcher. She winced with each movement, her pain was obvious. I stayed close, offering her a reassuring hand to hold as they prepared to transport her to the hospital.

As they wheeled Mia out of the classroom, Emily turned to me. "You can ride with us agent, we'll make sure she gets the care she needs." I nodded, grateful for the offer. Mia's safety and well-being were my top priorities.

Upon our arrival at the hospital, Mia was quickly wheeled into the emergency room, where a team of medical professionals awaited her. The urgency of the situation was evident, and they wasted no time in getting to work.

She was transferred to a hospital bed, and the attending physician, Doctor Ramirez, immediately assessed her condition. Her face was etched with pain, but she remained remarkably composed.

"Hello, Mia," Dr. Ramirez greeted her with a kind smile. "I'm Dr. Ramirez, and I'll be taking care of you. Can you tell me what happened?"

Mia briefly explained the classroom incident and the fall that had resulted in her broken leg. Dr. Ramirez nodded, her attention fully on Mia's leg, which was visibly swollen and misaligned. After the X'rays the doctor walked back in,

"We'll need to realign your leg before we can proceed. It's going to be uncomfortable, but we'll do our best to manage the pain."

"I understand, Doctor" she said, squeezing my fingers.

The medical team quickly prepared for the realignment procedure. They administered pain medication to help ease Mia's discomfort and positioned her leg carefully, ready for the realignment.

Dr. Ramirez explained the process to Mia, "We're going to gently manipulate your fractured bones back into their proper position. It will be painful, but we'll work as quickly as possible."

As the procedure began, she clenched her teeth and gripped the sides of the hospital bed and my hand. The room was filled with a tense silence as Dr. Ramirez and her team worked with precision and care. Her cries of pain were met with soothing words of encouragement from the medical staff.

Gradually, the fractured bones were guided back into alignment. Mia's leg was now in a more anatomically correct position, and the worst of the pain began to subside as the procedure was completed.

The doctor explained the next steps to Mia. "Your leg is now realigned, but you'll need surgery to properly repair the fractures. We'll schedule that as soon as possible. In the meantime, you'll remain in the hospital and continue to receive pain management."

"Thank you, Doctor."

After Mia's leg realignment, the medical team decided to put her leg in traction as a temporary measure before the scheduled surgery to repair the fractures. Traction would help maintain proper alignment and alleviate some of the pressure on her broken leg.

Later on that evening, as I arrived back in Mia's hospital room, I found her lying in bed, her broken leg suspended in traction. The contraption was attached to a system of pulleys and weights, gently pulling on her leg to maintain alignment and reduce the pressure on her fractures. Mia looked up and smiled weakly as I entered the room, "Sarah you're here."

I approached her bedside, leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Of course. I wouldn't miss a chance to see that sexy leg of yours elevated in the air like this"

She smiled, her blue eyes were filled with love. "I appreciate it, I did it for you since I knew you loved me injured and broken," she teased.

Mia pulled me closer, lifted her head and our lips touched. It felt like my heart had stopped and the kiss became more urgent. She parted my lips with her tongue and sought out my tongue. Even with a badly broken leg not even casted yet she was getting into a passionate

Embrace until the sound of a knock at the open door stopped the moment.

I took a seat beside her and reached out to hold her hand, the sexy male nurse asked "How are you feeling now?"

She sighed, her gaze turning to her broken leg, "I'm trying to stay positive."

"You're incredibly strong Mia, You'll get through this, before you know you will be spiking the balls again."

God knows how wrong he was about this but so cute to look at.

Part 5 to come
K

Clip 340 Beautiful lady, hopping in heels, broken ankle, boot, crutches