Clip 364 Sprained ankle

Clip 363 Broken leg, cast, crutches, SLC, wheelchair

The president's daughter part 9 (audio file)

 part 9

Clip 362 Broken ankle cast crutches, part 2

Clip 361 Broken ankle cast crutches, part 1

The President's daughter part 9

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

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

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

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

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

"Good morning, Sarah,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Conclusion to come
K

Clip 360 Jump off a wall broken leg, cast, crutches part 2

Au-Delà du Plâtre et des Béquilles : Évolution d'une Attirance. partie 4

Ensuite, on m'a équipée d'une paire de béquilles toute neuve pour m'aider à me déplacer. En me levant délicatement du lit d'hôpital, une douleur intense a traversé ma jambe cassée lors du transfert à une chaise roulante.  Je quitte l'hôpital dans une chaise roulante, tenant mes béquilles avec ma mère poussant ma chaise. L'air frais à l'extérieur contraste avec l'atmosphère stérile de l'hôpital. Ma mère pousse doucement la chaise roulante, prenant soin de naviguer habilement dans les pentes et les obstacles du chemin vers la voiture. Les regards curieux des passants se tournent vers nous, et d'une manière étrange, je ressens une certaine satisfaction. Pendant tellement longtemps, je souhaitais ardemment avoir un plâtre, et maintenant que les gens regardent ma jambe cassée, c'est un moment de joie. Je réalise que dans les mois à venir, le regard des gens pourrait être teinté de curiosité et de compassion, mais c'est une expérience que j'accueille avec bonheur, une compréhension tacite que chaque pas sur mes béquilles représente une victoire personnelle. En atteignant la voiture, ma mère m'aide à me lever délicatement de la chaise roulante et à m'installer dans le siège arrière. Les béquilles sont soigneusement placées à portée de main. Le trajet de retour à la maison est empreint de calme, ma mère conduisant prudemment tandis que je réfléchis à cette nouvelle phase de ma vie. Nous arrivons devant notre maison, et l'idée de retrouver ma chambre et explorer mon plâtre m'envahit d'une douce excitation sexuelle.  Les escaliers devant la porte d'entrée se dressent devant moi. J’approche les marches et avant de commencer à monter, je m'assure que mes béquilles sont bien positionnées de part et d'autre de moi, prêtes à me soutenir. Avec précaution, je pose le pied droit sur la première marche, transférant le poids de mon corps et des béquilles à ma jambe droite.  Une fois dans ma chambre, l'atmosphère paisible me pousse à explorer davantage ce nouveau chapitre de ma vie. Je m'approche du mur et, avec un mélange d'audace et d'excitation, j’appuie mes béquilles contre le mur et je sautille du mur jusqu'au lit. Le mouvement, bien que limité par ma jambe plâtrée, ajoute une touche à cette situation. Sur le lit, je m'installe avec précaution. Malgré la douleur persistante dans ma jambe, il y a quelque chose de libérateur dans le mal. Touchant les contours du plâtre je ressens une satisfaction tranquille en contemplant ma nouvelle réalité. Le mal dans ma jambe cassée ne peut éclipser la satisfaction sexuelle que je ressens en ce moment.  “Même avec la douleur, je suis contente d'avoir mon plâtre,” je me chuchote à moi-même.  Je prends un instant pour apprécier le plâtre qui entoure ma jambe. Ce beau plâtre qui enveloppe toute ma jambe attire naturellement mon attention. Mes doigts se rapprochent lentement de sa surface. La texture est à la fois lisse et granuleuse, créant une sensation unique sous mes doigts de la main gauche. Pendant ce temps, ma main droite se dirige entre mes cuisses, vers ma chatte lisse et je pousse un long soupir de plaisir.  Au contact de mon plâtre, je ressens d'abord une fraîcheur légère, comme si le matériau avait conservé la température ambiante de la pièce. Mes doigts explorent délicatement les reliefs du moulage, suivant les contours du plâtre qui devient un prolongement temporaire de ma belle grande jambe. J’écarte doucement ma jambe droite et ma jambe cassée et commence à me caresser la cuisse, puis mes seins. Je sentais mon vagin devenir humide, mes seins se gonflaient, et je sentais le désir monter entre mes jambes.  Les bords du plâtre, où la matière rencontre la peau, offrent une transition subtile. La différence de texture entre le plâtre et la bande de coton douce qui le borde créait un contraste distinct et confortable.  Gémissant doucement je ressentis une résistance douce du plâtre, rappelant la solidité qui soutient ma jambe cassée et c'était presque comme caresser un long penis en pleine érection. Yummy. Deux de mes doigts se perdent à l'intérieur de ma chatte, faisant des allers-retours toujours plus rapides et profonds. Je tente de rester la bouche fermée, pour qu'aucun son de plaisir sexuel n'en sorte. Le risque de me faire prendre par ma mère est immense, et ça m'excite encore plus avec un plâtre sur ma jambe. La chaleur de ma chatte et de ma peau sous le plâtre crée une connexion intime. En touchant mon plâtre, je ressens non seulement les contours physiques, mais aussi une profonde connexion sexuelle.  Ma respiration s'accélère, et se coupe net au moment où mon orgasme envahit mon corps au complet. Je gémit sans vraiment de retenue. Le lendemain matin, éveillée par la lumière du jour, une nouvelle énergie m'envahit. Mon plâtre, encadre ma jambe et prêt à affronter la journée, je choisis soigneusement une tenue qui s'harmonise avec ce nouvel ajout à ma vie. À l'école, l'uniforme est un incontournable et cela même avec une jambe cassée. Courte upe bleu marine, d'une blouse blanche et de bas blancs. Malgré mon plâtre et mes béquilles, je m'apprête à adapter cet ensemble classique à ma situation. Je choisis soigneusement ma jupe bleu marine, qui s'harmonise parfaitement avec mon nouvel accessoire. La blouse blanche vient compléter l'ensemble. En bas, les bas blancs ajoutent une touche de contraste, créant un équilibre visuel. Devant le miroir, je veille à ce que chaque détail s'ajuste avec précision. Délicatement, je tire le bas sur ma jambe droite sans plâtre, m'assurant qu'il repose parfaitement sur la cheville et le mollet. Puis vient le défi de l'autre côté. Avec précaution, je positionne le bas blanc sur mon plâtre à la jambe gauche. Mon bas épouse les contours du plâtre, créant une transition fluide entre le tissu et le matériel médical. Être sur béquilles avec un plâtre n'est pas seulement une nécessité médicale, mais aussi une source de joie. Les béquilles deviennent des compagnons fidèles, propulsant mes pas avec élégance. Les expressions sur les visages de mes camarades se mêlent à une admiration silencieuse. 12 semaines incroyables. Quelques années plus tard à l'université, le cours de ma vie a pris des détours inattendus. C’était maintenant mon tour d'observer avec admiration une personne arborant plâtre et béquilles avec qui je suis tombée en amour. Si cela vous intéresse, je peux vous fournir plus de détails. K

The President's daughter part 8 (audio file)

 Part 8

Clip 359 Jump off a wall broken leg, cast, crutches part 1 1

Clip 358 Sprained ankle, crutches, wrapped ankle

Clip 357 Broken foot, crutches, SLC, boot

The president's daughter part 8

 

In the morning, Mia woke up and swung her leg and cast to the side of the bed, the weight of her long cast reminding her of the task at hand but at least her crutches stood nearby, ready to assist her in her daily routine.

With practice she moved to the bathroom on her crutches, a plastic bag in hand. This bag was her trusty protector, designed to keep her cast dry during the shower. She slid the bag up above the edge of her long cast, ensuring it created a secure barrier against the water.

Leaning on her right foot, she took a deep breath and turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to her liking. She stepped beneath the warm stream and she felt a sense of relief. The water cascaded over her, washing away the sleep and rejuvenating her spirit.

As she emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and leaning on her crutches, the steam dispersing around her, I stood by the bed with a pair of jeans. Carefully chosen, I had made a modification, cutting off the left leg to accommodate Mia's long cast.

"Hey, I thought these might work better for you today,"

Mia's eyes lit up with appreciation as she settled onto the bed after dropping her crutches to the floor. I helped her delicately into the jeans.

"Thank you. You always seem to think of everything,"

A soft smile played on my lips, as Mia found her comfort in the jeans and she looked so sexy in those tight fitting jeans with her crutches beside her.

She stood with my help and steadied herself on her crutches and right foot. She then made her way toward me with a grateful smile on her lovely lips, and in a tender display of affection, she leaned in, her lips meeting mine in a sensual kiss.

I gave up trying to hold back, to hide some of my deepest feelings. I took her crutches away, watched her standing on her one leg, balancing. I came closer and gently pushed her against the wall, facing the wall, I was leaning against her. I wrapped my arms around gently rubbing her breasts and nipples.

She moaned, clearly excited, totally turned on by my little domination.

I turned her head sideways and leaned in, her hard cast between my legs and I kissed her lips, biting them softly. I twisted her left arm behind her back while my wet vagina rubbed against the pink cast.

I felt overwhelmed by the sensation of her small hand and wrist twisted in my hand. Chills ran up and down her whole body. I kissed her neck and pulled her twisted left arm even higher, applying more tension on her bones.

"Oh, god what are you going to do to my arm?" She moaned, like in her dream she had lost control physically, sexually and she needed that.

"No Mia not god but Sarah, my question is if I keep twisting and lifting your arm baby until we both hear that sensual but sickening snap, the break of your arm like The Prime minister's sexy wife...

Would you scream in agony or scream from the intense sexual pleasure you would feel?"

Without giving her time to answer, I let go of her arm seconds before it broke from the pressure, turned her around facing me, pulled her even closer and kissed her harder and much more demanding. 

She responded by sliding her tongue deep into my mouth and pushing her hard cast against my dripping vagina, pain running up and down her broken leg. I sucked hard and nibbled on her tongue, a deep passionate kiss while her orgasm rocked her whole body.

On this particular morning, as we made our way to the car after our little sexual adventure, Mia's grace caught my eye even more. The cast was becoming an extension of her. She opened the door, dropped her crutches and hopped on her good leg with agility,

"You're getting pretty good at this,"

Mia glanced up, her eyes alight with amusement and still a bit of lust.

"Practice makes perfect, right? You did steal my crutches about 1 hour ago when you pinned me against the wall and almost broke my arm," she licked her lips, rolled her blue eyes and smiled at me.

She settled into the back seat, her movements fluid and sure, her broken leg propped up. I looked at her in the rear-view mirror and said

"It was my pleasure to help you practise miss,"

As we arrived at the bustling gym, her blue eyes lit up with a familiar spark of enthusiasm. With a confident determination, she gracefully exited the car and reached for her crutches, her grip steady and assured as she leaned on them for support. She then made her way toward the entrance, she effortlessly balanced her weight on the crutches and swung her long cast..

"You've got this," I said, opening the door for her. "Always and I love you," she replied, a loving smile gracing her lips as she disappeared into the gym, leaving behind a trail of men and women staring at this tall injured athlete with her full leg cast.

I settled into the stands, my gaze fixed on Mia as she seamlessly melded into the vibrant energy of the gym. Surrounded by her teammates, she was drawing the attention of those around her. With each interaction, she seemed to light up the room, her laughter ringing out amidst the spirited conversations.

I couldn't help but marvel at the way she effortlessly navigated the space on her crutches.

As the practice wound down, Mia made her way up the stairs to where I was seated.

With a playful glint in her eye, she leaned in closer and kissed me, "I'm thinking we could use a little post-practice treat and after the wild sex this morning" she suggested, her voice laced with a mischievous undertone.

"I know just the place, there's this quaint little café not too far from here. They make the most amazing iced coffees."

Her eyes sparkled with delight as she squeezed her crutches. "Iced coffee sounds perfect."

As we headed toward the café, our laughter mingled with the bustle of the city, we had clearly grown together and she really seemed ready to open up.

"You know, I've actually used crutches recreationally before," Mia admitted with a hint of vulnerability opening up.

Not surprised since she was so good on them, I turned to her as she stopped leaning on her crutches, my gaze searching her eyes for any additional sign. "You have?" Mia nodded with lust in her eyes.

"For recreational purposes. I read a story once where one of the characters was an amputee on crutches. There's something oddly exhilarating about wrapping your leg bent at the knee, creating a stump. I love how the crutches made me move and feel, like an extension of your body."

I couldn't help but stare, my curiosity piqued by this unexpected revelation. "Really? I never would have guessed."

Her revelation hung in the air, stirring a whirlwind of sexual images. As I glanced at the long pink cast on her leg, the image of her on crutches for the sake of recreation pretending to be a sexy naked amputee sent a surge through my whole body.

I leaned over her and kissed her sweet lips. She had a persona, a world where the boundaries of conventional norms seemed to fade, replaced by so many possibilities.

"Sara, the idea of wrapping your leg, bent at the knee, to simulate a stump turns me on so bad at night since I broke my leg and we had sex. It would blur the lines between the ordinary and the extraordinary."

"Mia, that's...that's quite an imagination," I finally managed, I wanted her so badly, I was so wet and turned on.

"It would be quite an experience."

Her eyes sparkled with a playful glint, she leaned against a wall, her lips curling into a mischievous smile while she gave me her crutches. I positioned them under my arms.

"Oh, you look amazing on crutches. There's something unique about the way it would make you feel with only one leg, almost like you've unlocked a hidden fetish in you."

I nodded, I listened to her words. I took a few steps on them thinking of Mia's uninhibited exploration of her desires to embrace the facets of her identity that set her apart from the rest.

"I can imagine," I murmured, my gaze lingering on her broken leg, I imagined her left leg amputated at the knee. Her stump between my legs rubbing my wet vagina. As we continued on our way, the thought of Mia on crutches, an amputee, knee high boot on her one leg, 8 months pregnant filled me with a revised acknowledgement of the beauty found in the intricacies of sexual fetishes.

"It's so liberating to be able to talk openly with you" My sexy girlfriend and yes let's not forget the President's daughter said to me looking so happy.

What a mess...

Part 9 to come
K

Clip 356 Broken ankle, cast, wheelchair,S LC

Au-Delà du Plâtre et des Béquilles : Évolution d'une Attirance. partie 3

La rééducation de l'entorse était sur le point de commencer, et avec une détermination renouvelée, je m'élance dans ce parcours incertain. C’est à ce moment là que mes béquilles devinrent mes compagnons fidèles, soutenant chacun de mes pas alors que je me frayais un chemin à travers la routine journalière.

Lors d’un message après ma partie 2 quelqu'un m'a demandé de me décrire, ce que je n’aime pas faire. Grande brunette de 5 pieds 10 pouces, dépassant de loin les normes conventionnelles pour la gymnastique. Je trouve que je combine bien puissance et grâce sur mes béquilles, chaque mouvement dégageant une impression de contrôle. Les béquilles, au lieu de me limiter, semblent être une extension naturelle. De beaux accessoires me rendent plus sexy que jamais.

Les premières semaines furent remplies d'exercices doux, visant à restaurer la mobilité de ma belle cheville blessée. Les séances de physiothérapie étaient intenses, mais je m'accrochais à l'idée que chaque exercice me rapprochait de la pleine récupération. Mes muscles travaillent dur, réapprenant à soutenir mon poids et à retrouver leur force d'antan.

Malgré le confort relatif de la botte et la mobilité qu'elle offrait, il était difficile d'ignorer le désir persistant d'un plâtre. Mon esprit était imprégné de fantasmes de plâtres décorés, témoignant de mon parcours de guérison. La réalité de la botte orthopédique ne faisait que renforcer cette aspiration inassouvie. Ce besoin sexuel d'immobilisation je crois.

Les séances de rééducation ne se limitaient pas seulement à la salle de physiothérapie. À la maison, avec ma mère qui est docteur, je m'engageais dans des exercices supplémentaires, déterminée à accélérer le processus de guérison. 

Les semaines se transformèrent en mois, et avec une persévérance inflexible, je progresse dans ma réhabilitation. Les exercices évoluèrent, devenant plus exigeants à mesure que ma cheville gagne en force. Les séances de physiothérapie se transformèrent en des moments de défi et de victoire, avec chaque petit progrès célébré comme une conquête personnelle.

Cependant…

Cependant personne, sauf mon journal, ne connaît le désir persistant d’avoir un plâtre. Les béquilles, bien qu'utiles, n'étaient pas le soutien complet que je fantasmais secrètement. Le plâtre représentait pour moi tellement plus qu’un simple fetish sexuelle.

Alors que je retrouvais progressivement ma mobilité, l'idée de retourner à la gymnastique me hantait. La tension dans l'air avant chaque saut, toutes les possibilités de blessure et de fracture. Mon retour à la gymnastique était maintenant plus qu'une aspiration lointaine ; c'était devenu une destination inévitable.

L'idée persistante du plâtre pouvait attendre, car le chemin vers la reprise de ma carrière en gymnastique s'ouvrait devant moi, j'étais prête à aider mon équipe avec une confiance renouvelée.

J'avais récupéré et je m’entraînais sans relâche pendant des mois, me poussant à de nouvelles limites, et ma performance aux barres asymétriques était cruciale. Mais pendant ma routine, le désastre a frappé.

Alors que je me lançais dans les airs pour ma descente, je savais que quelque chose n'allait pas du tout. Mon corps s'est tordu en plein vol, et j'ai atterri violemment, envoyant des ondes de douleur dans ma jambe gauche comme je ne l'avais jamais ressenti auparavant. 

Je me suis effondrée sur le tapis dans l'agonie, incapable de continuer. C'était un moment dévastateur pour ma carrière en gymnastique j’en étais certaine. Mon instinct immédiat était de me redresser, de surmonter la douleur et de poursuivre, mais dès que mes yeux se sont posés sur ma jambe, cette volonté s'est éteinte. 

La vision était poignante : ma jambe, autrefois agile et puissante, était maintenant tordue dans une position anormale, gonflée, marquée et brisée par la brutalité de l'impact. Chaque tentative de mouvement était accueillie par des vagues de douleur lancinante, confirmant l'évidence que se relever n'était tout simplement pas une option. 

C'était comme si la réalité de ma blessure avait figé le temps.

La compétition a été interrompue, et j'ai été rapidement prise en charge par l'équipe médicale de garde. Ma jambe brûlait de douleur, et je pouvais sentir les larmes de joie monter à mes yeux. La réalisation que je ne pouvais pas terminer la compétition, encore moins continuer l'entraînement pour un avenir prévisible si jamais, m'a frappée durement. La deuxième réalisation était que cette fois, c'était cassé.

Le personnel médical a évalué ma condition et Ils ont soigneusement immobilisé ma jambe, appliquant une attelle gonflable temporaire pour fournir un soutien et minimiser les blessures supplémentaires. Je me souviens de la sensation froide et rigide de l'attelle lorsqu'ils l'ont fixée en place, une sensation qui deviendra plus tard un souvenir étrangement réconfortant.

Selon mes heures d'expérience, en regardant diverses blessures aux jambes en ligne et sur des sites fétichistes, la déformation de ma jambe gauche suggérait que j'avais probablement fracturé mon tibia et le fibula.

De là, j'ai été transportée d'urgence à l'hôpital pour une évaluation plus détaillée. Les radiographies ont révélé l'étendue des dégâts, une triple fracture de la jambe qui nécessiterait un plâtre complet de la jambe pendant des mois et une rééducation très longue. Alors que je gisais sur le lit d'hôpital, je ne pouvais m'empêcher de ressentir un mélange de frustration, de déception, de peur et d'une incroyable excitation physique et sexuelle pour ce qui m'attendait.

SVP, ne me jugez pas pour l'excitation sexuelle que je ressentais ; au fond de moi, je savais que finalement, j'allais avoir ce plâtre que j'avais secrètement désiré. Nous réagissons tous de façon différente.

J'ai été emmenée dans une salle de radiographie. Un radiologiste positionne l'objectif sur ma jambe gauche et m'a demandé de rester aussi immobile que possible.  Repositionnée à trois occasions, la douleur était très intense. 

J'étais de retour dans la salle lorsque le docteur est revenu et a placé quatre radiographies sur un écran lumineux fixé au mur.

“Fracture, du tibia et du fibula, je vais devoir réduire correctement la fracture du tibia mais ca ne devrais pas etre trop compliquer”

Le docteur a doucement saisi mon pied gauche dans ses mains alors que l'infirmière établissait une prise ferme sur mon genou. Il a commencé à appliquer une pression constante sur mon pied le tordant suivis du sons de mes os cassés se remettant en place.

Le spécialiste orthopédique expliquait la procédure alors qu'ils s'apprêtaient à envelopper ma jambe au complet dans un un beau plâtre. Au début, une couche douce de coton autour de ma jambe pour protéger ma peau, suivie du plâtre. Il a été trempé dans de l'eau chaude et moulé avec une précision, durcissant lentement en un enveloppement solide. La chaleur du matériau contre ma peau procurait une étrange sensation de réconfort. 

Une fois le plâtre terminé, ils ont coupé les extras, laissant seulement mes orteils exposés. 

Je regarde avec émerveillement mon plâtre noir, qui englobe complètement ma jambe, depuis le pied jusqu'au sommet de ma cuisse. Courbé au niveau du genou ce qui va m’empêcher de poser le plâtre au sol.

Partie 4 a venir

K

The Presiden't daughter part 7 (audio file)

 Part 7

Clip 355 Broken ankle, cute cast and crutches, SLC

Clip 354 LAC, full arm cast, broken arm

Clip 353 Broken foot, cast, crutches, amputation

The President's daughter part 7

"Sarah, how do you think you'd feel if you had both legs broken?" Her eyes held a glimmer of curiosity looking me up from feet to lips.

I paused for a moment, considering her question, and then replied, "I imagine it would be a challenging experience. Mobility would be limited, and I'd rely on you to wash and please me sexually," I smiled while we both looked at the prime minister's wife.

"Why are you asking me that? You'd like to see me like that with a broken arm and legs ? To take care of me? To dominate your broken girlfriend? Would you make me crawl naked to you miss Mia?" I inquired with a playful teasing.

Mia went on to explain her interest, saying, "I'm not saying I'd like you to break all those bones Sarah but you would look so sexy."

As I observed the Prime Minister's wife, with her visible injuries and the challenges she faced, I couldn't help but find myself attracted to her, to her situation until she rolled towards us

"Plus maybe if you were my wife, I would take care of you," left me momentarily speechless. The sentiment in her statement resonated deeply, and it was clear that she cared for me just as I did for her.

The elegant sound of the wheelchair wheels rolling across the polished floor drew my attention as the Canadian Prime Minister's wife approached us. Her beautiful long brown hair complemented her smile. I noticed the delicate push of her wheelchair with a combination of her broken arm and her healthy one working in a synchrony.

"Mia, Sarah, it's so nice to see both of you again," the Canadian Prime Minister's wife greeted us warmly.

"Thank you. I wish we could go for a run again like last time, but with our broken legs it will be for another time," Mia replied leaning on her crutches, her gaze shifting to the Prime Minister's wife's leg casts.

As the Prime Minister's wife spoke, a flicker of memory swept through my mind. I remembered reading about the car accident she had been in, the vehicle flipping over twice, her legs trapped under the front seat upon impact, Multiple fractures.

The return to Mia's apartment was full of intimacy, our movements gentle and careful, mindful of Mia's broken leg and the support she needed from her crutches. With each step, I offered a steadying arm, ready to help if needed, ensuring her balance remained steady as she made it to her living room.

Mia leaned on her crutches and touched my face with her long fingers before she kissed me.

I looked at her "You're so pretty Mia,"

She kissed me again. Her lips felt wonderful, my heart was beating fast and my mind raced with wild thoughts from seeing those 2 sexy women broken up and casted. The Prime Minister's wife in her wheelchair and Mia standing on her crutches... Our mouths opened and our tongues touched. I put my arms around her and pulled her gently into me.

I felt her breasts and nipples rubbing against mine. Her hard cast against my leg. What a wonderful sensation. I helped her settle onto the couch, I lifted her broken leg on my lap, the weight of her long pink cast a reminder of the severity of her injured limb and how turned on I was sexually.

Mia shifted her pink cast slightly on my lap, her expressive blue eyes meeting mine with a sensual gaze. She knew the effect she had on me. With pure lust in her voice she asked

"Sarah, my poor little toes at the end of the cast have gotten so dry. Could you please help me with some skin cream?" she requested, her words carrying so much sexual innuendos.

I nodded with a gentle smile, understanding the significance of this simple yet intimate gesture. Rising from the couch, I made my way to the bathroom, where I retrieved the skin cream, its soothing scent promising comfort and so much more.

I returned to my girlfriend that was now totally naked, except for her sexy long pink cast with a smile.

I sat down, re-positioned her cast on my lap. I watched Mia rubbing her firm belly in slow sensuous circles before moving to her breasts. Her fingers pinching her nipples, she bit her red lips.

I lifted her cast, my lips touched her toes, licking them slowly looking at her. She had one hand on her large breast and she moved her other hand between her legs, her long fingers finding their way to her wet vagina.

I applied the skin cream with tender strokes, my fingers moved with a delicate, unhurried grace. I paid special attention to her dry toes, my touch a soothing caress.

Not so delicately Mia began to thrust her hips upward against her fingers and began to stroke her clitoris steadily. I imagined for a minute both her legs broken, leaving my future wife crippled but so sexy.

The room seemed to hold its breath as we shared this quiet, intimate moment. The hushed sound of the skin cream on her long toes with her fingers getting her so aroused, so close to her orgasm. Mia's eyes held mine, her toes now comforted by the moisturizing cream.

She looked right at me and continued to masturbate. With one hand she stroked her breasts and pulled hard on her nipples. With the other she slid in and out of her vagina. I was so aroused watching her and yet she added more, sliding off her couch. I walked to the end of her spacious apartment and sat on the floor.

Mia looked at me "When I went over the top, my body felt suddenly weightless as I tumbled to the floor below"

"I know I'm so sorry I couldn't catch you properly."

"Don't be Sarah it's ok, the impact sent shock-waves through my bones, and an excruciating pain shot up my left leg" Mia gritted her teeth, a cry threatening to escape my lips.

"I've often fantasized about breaking my long legs. In my dream, with supreme effort, I forced myself to try to crawl away from him after he kicked my crutches from under me."

"5 minutes before I could hear the one click of my stiletto and the thumb of my crutches through the dimly lit alley. I quickly twisted around, lying on my back with my full leg cast on display at the bottom of a short leather skirt"

"I saw him approaching, his menacing silhouette growing larger by the second. As he loomed over me, I swung my right leg with all the strength I could muster, my stiletto heel connecting with his chest but he grabbed my foot."

I could clearly see Mia on the ground helpless against this strong man in my mind while she crawled to me, sliding her long leg cast.

"The nightmare was far from over, with a sadistic look, he grabbed my foot and high heel by the stiletto, his fingers wrapping around them like a vice. With a cruel, calculating look in his eyes, he slowly twisted my foot, causing an unbearable pain to shoot up my leg when he snapped my ankle, breaking both bones. I cried out, a mixture of terror and agony escaping my lips until I would wake up in my bed"

"Oh Mia" I took her in my arms and held her tight.

"Would you be my monster one day Mia?" I asked before kissing her.

Part 8 to come
K