Friday, December 15, 2023
Thursday, December 14, 2023
Prelude to Darkness part 4
Prelude to Darkness
Part 4
She closed the distance, she reached him and raised her long cast and then, with a swift, deliberate motion, dropped it onto his broken leg. The sickening thud of her heavy cast meeting fractured bone was only overpower by his loud scream.
His scream, a symphony of pain and horror, pierced the silence. Amelia, seemingly unaffected, looked down at him with a chilling gaze.
"Feel that? It's just a taste of what you left me with that night. In my case both legs were broken"
I swear I wanted to stop her.
But while she stood over him, her elegance and the brutality of her actions created a surreal tableau. Amelia slightly rotated her leg cast on his broken leg dispersing the pieces of bones and the man could only gag in agony.
Amelia, having delivered a symbolic blow with her broken leg, motioned to me for her crutches. With a fluid motion she re-positioned them under her arms, her throbbing leg delicately elevated off the ground.
As she took a few steps towards me on her crutches away from the man, a lustful glint in her eyes, she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, it was so much more than just a kiss, I felt her tongue against my lips and then inside my mouth. She was a full package of sexual energy. I felt her heavy breasts and hard nipples against me, her tongue against mine. She was so soft and sensual, so beautiful and sexy and then she said,
"Shoot him between the eyes with that little revolver of yours Vincent," She commanded, her voice carrying authority.
I was in love, under the spell of her chilling presence, I found myself compelled to follow her bidding. I was the lawyer, sexual lover and also a mere puppet in the hands of Satan's daughter.
In the midst of this utterly surreal scene, and the prospect of a Christmas party with her lingered in the air, she gracefully moved away toward the awaiting car on her crutches. With each deliberate step her cocktail dress draped over her long cast. I was totally mesmerized and then...
I raised my weapon and shot him between the eyes.
A mere 2 hours later in Dr. Robinson's office, Steffi, with a stern expression, reminded Amelia.
"You weren't supposed to put any weight on that leg at all. Do you want to lose it? Is that what you want?" The tension in the room hung thick, a reminder of the consequences that awaited those who dared to defy her father's servant medical counsel.
In a meticulous display, Dr. Robinson proceeded to cut off the cast with a cast saw, each vibration underscoring the gravity of the situation. Then having successfully removed the leg from the cast that was split in 2, she approached Amelia's leg, the leftover of the cast scattered on the table.
Dr. Robinson's experienced hands and fingers moved with a delicate precision, tracing the contours of the leg and exploring each location of her broken bones. With every touch, every gentle press of her long fingers I realized she could re-break her fragile leg if that was her intention.
Thank god or the devil that it wasn't their intentions.
Following the meticulous examination and a slight twisting that I will save you the details, I witnessed again, Amelia's sexy, long leg gracefully disappearing in another full leg cast. This time, upon her request, the cast was red in anticipation of the upcoming Christmas party.
It's crazy right? it was as if we both momentarily forgot the events that had transpired merely two hours ago, we had killed a man, I killed him.
The beautiful Dr. Robinson insisted that the cast be bent in such a way that standing on it would be an impossibility, doctor's orders. I was fascinated to watch Steffi moulding around the contours of Amelia's leg the casting material. Her insistence on the bent position underscored the gravity of her medical judgement.
Returning to my place, I watched with fascination as Amelia effortlessly excited my car, grabbed her crutches and moved to the house. As she made her way to the bedroom, the rhythmic tap of her crutches against the floor was beautiful. For a split second I wondered how it would be to have Amelia permanently on crutches.
"Be very careful what you wish for Vincent" She said just like she could read my mind. Reaching the bedroom. I couldn't stop looking at her, I sat in the corner of the room in her red wheelchair and...
Amelia, standing on her one functional leg, executed a seamless transition. I stared at her perfect red cast, her firm breasts and those teasing nipples poking through. With unwavering confidence, she initiated the unveiling, gracefully removing her cocktail dress. The fabric cascaded down along her breasts and hips like a waterfall, gently bunching at the foot of her broken leg. At first, she made no move to discard it entirely, instead choosing to smile enigmatically.
She directed her attention to my legs, she didn't have to say anything, I complied, lifting my legs onto the legs rests. "Better," she remarked with a sense of erotic satisfaction.
The room transformed into an intimate sexual stage, bathed in the soft glow of ambient light, as she cupped her breasts like only women can. I could see her lips reacting and my penis hardening. She bent over and grabbed the black cocktail dress from her cast then she slowly slid the sexy dress between her cast and right leg across her wet vagina and moaned quietly with a slight sway of her hips while she rubbed herself with her dress.
Amelia, naked and wet, was so vulnerable, she called out to me. She grabbed her crutches and positioned them under her arms in one swift movement, so beautiful and poised on her crutches, she was the perfect contradiction where vulnerability met empowerment and lust. She smiled and threw me her wet dress.
"You are so hard Vincent" She could see the outline of my full length penis against my pants
As if Amelia had mastered the art of sensuality she crutched to me where I was still sitting in her wheelchair and even within the constraints of her broken leg and crutches. She unzipped my zipper and pulled my penis from my pants and started rubbing it with her wet dress. I felt her juice on me.
She rubbed me faster until I finally lost control, I came all over her hands and cocktail dress, the dress she wore when we first killed.
"Burn that dress would you Vincent?" She said walking away on her crutches.
Prelude to Darkness
Part 5 to come
K
Wednesday, December 13, 2023
Tuesday, December 12, 2023
Prelude to Darkness part 3
Prelude to Darkness
Part 3
On December 17, late at night, because Amelia mostly worked nights, as I was poring over documents looking to find the mystery man driving the sports car, Amelia entered silently on her crutches. The room seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy as she approached me, her long leg and cast inside tight fitting yoga pants that left little to the imagination. The fabric followed the delicate curves, revealing her sleek silhouette.
A simple t-shirt and the clear absence of panties and bra truly defined her as a vision. beyond the ordinary. The room held its breath as she moved, each step on her crutches a silent sexual tease.
God she was beautiful.
"Vincent," she whispered, her voice a seductive tone, "it's time to do it, I found him." She said with her black cast rubbing against my leg totally intentionally.
I was caught in a web of desire and dread, unable to resist the magnetic pull that drew me closer to her. Together, we embarked on a journey into the heart of darkness, where the lines between right and wrong were forever blurred.
Amelia, fuelled by an unyielding desire for vengeance, orchestrated a fake meeting with this mysterious figure that was very curious to meet this sexy woman that wanted to be in his next movie. He never realized that she was the lady he hit with his car. He was too drunk at the time to remember her.
Wearing a sexy black cocktail dress, Amelia looked amazing. Her dress accentuated the haunting beauty that emanated from her despite the grim circumstances. A single pump on her uninjured foot, echoing with a subtle, sinister resonance against the backdrop of the empty building that a friend of her father owned.
As me and the driver waited, the lawyer in me struggled to reconcile the grim reality of our surroundings and the coming actions, but Amelia seemed in total control playing the role of an avenging devil dressed like a high fashion model that was supported by underarm crutches, her favourite type.
"Hello, do you remember me?" She said leaning on her crutches, smiling.
Those were the first words that escaped Amelia's lips as she stood on her crutches, her cocktail dress a stark contrast to the grim surroundings. The leg cast, though visible, seemed to accentuate her defiance rather than reflect vulnerability. The lawyer in me observed, captivated by the audacity that emanated from her presence.
The man, caught off guard by her unexpected broken leg, squinted through the dim light as if trying to place her face. A momentary hesitation flickered across his features before he reluctantly nodded.
"Should I? Do you work for me baby? You won't be anymore if you are with that ugly cast. I see lots of young women that want to be part of my movies, "he said.
Amelia, undeterred by the dismissive words. She leaned lightly on her crutches and responded with a tone that hinted at both allure and defiance.
"Oh, this cast? It's not a hindrance, darling, I feel beautiful and sexy at the moment,"
She was walking towards him when she turned on her crutches with a graceful sway, she shifted the conversation from him to me with an air of casual elegance.
"By the way Vincent, did you happen to receive the Christmas invitation from my father?" a flicker of uncertainty in my eyes and I was wondering where that come from.
"Well, then," she continued, her tone now a delicate invitation, she moved sideways on her crutches and that damn cast looked even better than ever.
"Would you be so kind as to escort me? It would be a delightful evening. I'm sure dad has surprises for us" Her words, delivered with a disarmingly sweet smile, held a promise of intrigue,
And then I saw Amelia's eyes glinting with something darker, much darker and sinister as she stepped closer to him, the sound of her crutches echoing with her one high heel stilettos in the desolate space.
"You should remember me. You left me broken, both physically and emotionally in the middle of the street."
He chuckled nervously, attempting to dismiss her accusations. "Look, lady, I don't know what you're talking about. I've got places to be and you have the wrong man."
"Noooo I don't" she said and the lawyer in me recognized the mounting tension in the air, a prelude to a confrontation. Amelia's gaze remained unyielding as she continued moving closer to him,
"You left me lying on the cold asphalt, shattered and alone. Both my legs were broken. But tonight, you'll understand the true weight of your actions."
The man's dismissive smirk faltered, replaced by a hint of unease. "You're crazy, lady. I don't have time for this."
With a sudden, swift motion, Amelia raised her right crutch, her eyes red, ablaze with a fiery resolve. The lawyer in me, torn between a desire for justice and the unfolding chaos, watched as the crutch descended, a strike against the injustice she had endured.
The man recoiled, a mixture of shock and pain contorting his features. The blow was deliberate, a baseball type of strike aimed at his left leg, a mirror image of the torment he had inflicted on Amelia with his car.
The beautiful revenge sound of breaking bones reverberated through the desolate space as his tibia and fibula snapped under the force of the blow. He crumpled to the ground, clutching his broken leg, a semblance of the agony she had endured.
She approached him with measured steps on her crutches, the haunting echo of her stiletto amplifying the gravity of the moment. He tried to crawl.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, her voice cutting through the disorienting silence. The man, now writhing in pain, could only manage a feeble attempt to crawl away, unable or not strong enough to accept the pain and crawl.
The lawyer in me, now a witness to a twisted form of justice, was slowly grappling with the realization that the scales were tipping, and the retribution Amelia sought was done with a cruel precision that her father would be proud of.
But she didn't seem to be done and that could become very problematic. Amelia's vengeance was crossing the line between perpetrator and avenger .
"You see," Amelia's voice cut through the air, cold and deliberate, "I'm not supposed to put any weight on my broken leg. I had a fifth surgery just a few days ago, this cast is non weight bearing but for you, because you're so special to me and my dad, I'll make an exception."
With a resolute expression, she dropped her crutches to the ground, the echoes resonating through the desolate space. The lawyer in me watched, a spectator to a scene that teetered on the edge of madness and retribution. Amelia, in her sexy cocktail dress, began to painfully put weight on her long cast and walk, keeping the sexy high heel on her right foot.
Every step seemed to echo the pain she was enduring and yet there was a grim determination in her eyes. The man, still moaning in agony from his broken leg, looked on in disbelief as Amelia approached, limping badly but smiling.
She closed the distance and...
Prelude to Darkness
Part 4 to come
K
Monday, December 11, 2023
Sunday, December 10, 2023
Prelude to Darkness part 2
Seated in her wheelchair with both legs in long pink walking casts, she faced the daunting task of rising. The casts rested snugly on the leg rests, and with a determined glint in her eyes, she began the challenging transfer. Slowly and methodically, she slid the casts off the leg rests, revealing the vulnerability of her badly broken limbs.
Using her forearm crutches for support that had been attached to the back of her wheelchair, Amelia's determination and strength was obvious as she wrestled with the challenge to stand on her fractured legs for only the 3rd time in the last 3 months. Finally, with a determined push on her crutches, Amelia rose from the wheelchair. The towering figure, previously confined to the seated chair, now stood, broken but tall and in control.
With a devilish glint on her lips. This tall, blond, long-legged woman sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. Within a second she had me sensually and sexually attracted to her words and so, so much more.
As she navigated the space between us, swinging both legs at the same time, I was mesmerised by the beauty of her long casts.
While she was now standing before me with the help of her black crutches, I should have said NO, I can't, I won't.
"Hello, Mr. Harlow, so nice to finally meet you," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of Je ne sais quoi.
After I pointed to the unoccupied chair, she moved towards it with surprising ease despite her crutches and broken legs. They were part of her, however, the visible strain across her face betrayed the pain radiating from her broken legs as she gingerly lowered herself into the chair.
Concerned, I suggested fetching an extra chair to facilitate the elevation of her fractured legs, hoping to offer some relief from the obvious pain she was feeling. As I returned with the additional chair, I could see the grimace of pain on her face. With a gentle touch, I assisted her in lifting her long and heavy casts onto the propped-up chair.
The sudden proximity to her broken legs unleashed a wave of unexpected sexual sensations within me, my penis was fully erected. Her casts, long and hard, became an unanticipated focal point under my fingers.
I was unable to resist, I found myself rubbing the surface of the casts. The texture of her pantyhose covered casts felt nice under my fingers, both smooth and rigid. The contours of her sexy long shattered legs beneath the cast wanted to reveal what was hidden beneath. The room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with a strange tension as my fingers traced the length of the casts.
I... inadvertently explored between her long legs, against any and all professional conduct.
Caught in this peculiar moment, I became acutely aware of the intimacy that had unexpectedly unfolded so quickly. She quietly moaned, smiled while her blue eyes stared deep into my brown eyes.
Those lips...
I continued to gently rub her casts and her wet vagina after ripping her pantyhose to slide my finger in and out of her vagina, blurring the lines between respect and sexual desire. I was out of control. What finally stopped me was that I couldn't help but wonder about the significance behind her remark, "to finally meet you" and her orgasm also helped to stop me and regain some control.
"I've heard from my father that you're the best in the business, and I need the best."
Little did I know that her arrival would unravel an erotic, sexual and nightmarish tale, one that would blur the lines between desire and going straight to hell. As we sat in my office, Amelia's eyes gleamed from sexual lust a few minutes ago to total control.
"You see, Mr. Harlow," she began by slightly moving back closer together her broken legs
"I've been plotting in my hospital bed with both shattered legs elevated and in tractions, meticulously planning how to make him pay for what he did to me. What he did to this version of me"
Intrigued, I leaned forward, drawn into the twisted narrative she was unfolding. I accidentally touched her toes at the end of the left cast sending a wave of images through me. Images of her long and sexy leg casts on my shoulders while we made furious love, Amelia looking so desirable.
"I want him to feel every ounce of pain he inflicted on me. No, I want him to suffer more," she continued, her voice a low haunting whisper.
Amelia detailed her revenge, a dark list of retribution, as I listened in both horror and fascination. "And, Mr. Harlow," she turned her gaze towards me, "you'll play a crucial role in bringing this nightmarish justice to fruition."
Her plan was diabolical, a combination of seduction, manipulation, and pure vengeance. As she outlined my role, the lines between right and wrong blurred, and I found myself ensnared in a web of desire and darkness.
Amelia became my personal assistant over the next few months, and from the moment she hobbled into my office on her crutches, her right leg now healed but her left one going through multiple surgeries and still in a black non weight bearing full leg cast, the atmosphere changed in the office.
It always did when she rolled in her wheelchair or hobbled in on her crutches or limped in.
There was an unsettling energy, an unspoken agreement that lingered between us. Her eyes held a secret past, a hidden history that fuelled my curiosity and, dare I say, my obsession with this sexy powerful woman.
As I observed her, my fascination grew with every step she took. The knee-high socks, a rebellious splash against convention, wrapped around her right calve traced the lines of her sexy lower leg, emphasizing curves that seemed to tell a story of their own with her Nike shoe.
What intrigued me even more was her movement, after months on crutches she was performing a delicate choreography with them. The rhythmic tap of the crutches tips on the floor and the soft tap of her running shoe looked and sounded so natural and easy for her.
And then there was the way her short skirt swayed with each step, a companion to her crutches. The fabric whispered practicality and femininity, a captivating contrast to the beautiful look of the knee socks that I totally loved.
If her tight fitting blouse played its part, framing her large round breasts it only completed her ensemble. She was displaying just enough skins.
La piece de resistance was the white knee sock over her cast. In a way it was hiding the complexity of her black cast, stretched to the maximum the sock covered the foot portion of her cast all the way up her knee, well almost.
Amelia's father "convinced", Dr. Steffi Robinson elevated the concept of a mere medical cast into a stylish accessory. Unlike the sometimes boring appearance of medical casts, Dr. Robinson transformed Amelia's cast into a visual piece. The cast seamlessly melded with her knee sock.
The stretched knee sock traced the contours of her perfectly formed cast, bringing all the attention to the curves of her broken leg. A synergy between the crutches, skirt, and blouse, creating a look that was impossible to ignore, Amelia's casual look intensified my desire for her.
Each element, from the well shaped cast to her white knee sock, contributed to go beyond the functional. Dr. Robinson's meticulous craftsmanship had turned a medical necessity into a captivating attraction.
As I stared at the beautiful woman, I couldn't help but wonder about the stories behind her love for knee socks, crutches, skirts, and tight fitting blouses that weren't just accessories; they were so much more, they were part of her play.
Like any other man I can appreciate a beautiful woman moving around on crutches but Amelia's beauty was a beauty that went beyond the physical. She had an appreciation for the unconventional allure because she wasn't afraid to interplay disparate elements.
If anything she styled her cast as a fashionable accessory, turning it into a distinctive element that added to her beauty. It contributed to her tall and uniquely captivating, slightly mysterious, and seductive presence. Without a doubt I'm sure she had used recreational casting in her life before to get what she wanted.
Late one night, because Amelia mostly worked nights, as I was poring over documents looking to find the mystery man driving the sports car, Amelia entered silently on her crutches and...
Prelude to Darkness
Part 3 to come
K
Saturday, December 9, 2023
Friday, December 8, 2023
Prelude to Darkness part 1
Prelude to Darkness
Part 1
One week ago, the dim glow of the antique desk lamp cast eerie shadows across the mahogany walls of my office. The air was heavy with tension, and the only sounds that echoed through the room was the soft hum of the flickering bulb and the grandfather clock seconds ticking.
I settled into the plush leather chair behind my imposing oak desk, fingers steepled together, grappling with the weight of the day's unfolding events. The news of my secretary's sudden heart attack lingered heavily, casting a sombre shadow over the atmosphere of my office.
As the reality of her passing sank in, the day took another chilling turn. The grandfather clock stopped ticking at exactly 2:15 pm and I stood up. My gaze drifted to the window, drawn to the bustling street below. She was walking on the sidewalk facing me, staring at me and smiling.
She was tall, slim and athletic looking. Lustrous blond hair, piercing blue eyes, full lips and she moved with a natural grace on her heels. Her 4 inch stilettos heels clicked against the pavement, echoing a haunting melody from the Rolling Stones amidst the city's usual chaos.
She stared at me again, smiled and I swear she said,
"Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah
But what's confusing you
It is just the nature of my game"
And I said "Woo, who sexy"
At the same time the wind picked up and played with the hem of her coat, creating a sombre symphony with Sympathy For The Devil playing in my office. I don't know where it came from since I don;r have speakers in my office. She stepped off the sidewalk and navigated the crosswalk exposing her perfect long legs.
However, the ordinary rhythms of life "shattered" when a red sports car raced into view, its low profile tires screeching against the pavement trying to stop. Time slowed, and the scene unfolded before me, like a grim painting of Satan's daughter.
Caught in the chaotic ballet of life and hell, She found herself at the mercy of fate. The impact was swift and so loud, a sickening cracking of bones reverberating through the glass pane separating us. Her broken body crumpled to the asphalt, an unexpected casualty of the indifferent dance between vehicles and pedestrians.
The perpetrator, a man burdened with guilt and the stench of alcohol, emerged from his car. He stumbled towards her, his gaze fixated on the shattered figure sprawled before him. A gnawing realization claws at him, to a minimum she has 2 broken legs, or death. A direct consequence of his reckless actions.
"Help me! I can't move" She moaned and pleaded, her voice strained with pain and lust. Her blue eyes, once gleaming with determination, were now clouded with agony and pain.
The man, his face contorted with panic, stared at her legs, and the severity of the fractures was unmistakable. Fear gripped him, not just for the impending legal consequences but for the life he had jeopardized. His mind raced through the possibilities.
A hit and run vs the potential prison sentence, the damning weight of guilt on him and his family.
"Please, help me! You have to do something, I can't move my legs, I think they are both broken. I have so much to do in this world for my dad" She implored, but her voice wasn't pleading but warning him.
He grappled with Satan's options laid out before him. On one path, the right thing to do, a responsible admission of guilt, facing the legal consequences, and seeking redemption. On the other side, Satan's wrong path, the cowardly escape from accountability, whispered promises of temporary freedom at the expense of a woman suffering.
The silence between them thickened, suffocating in its intensity. She, broken and vulnerable, read the turmoil in his eyes. Her words sliced through the air like a serious warning, like a striking rattlesnake.
"Don't do it I want you, because I swear you will regret it. I'm not just a woman suffering in pain from your actions, I'm his daughter"
The man, caught in the middle of morality and self-preservation, hesitated for 2 seconds. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he contemplated the choices that would define his fate. With a resigned nod, he turned away from her, Satan was winning, he retreated to his car, and drove away into the night talking on his phone...again...Don't they learn she wondered.
Left in the wake of his departure, she laid on the cold asphalt, a shattered, twisted and useless but still sexy body for some.
As the minutes stretched into an eternity, a mix of pain, anger, and helplessness enveloped her. She had become not only a victim of a hit and run but also a pawn in the moral quandary of a man wrestling with her own father.
My heart raced as I witnessed the unfolding tragedy. Strangers rushed to her aid, their faces twisted in concern and disbelief looking at her legs, twisted, broken and partly attached to her body. A chill crawled up my spine, the weight of an unspoken connection I had just witnessed.
The tall woman's elegant attire, once pristine, was now showing the brutality of the impact, her blond hair dishevelled, her black dress stained with asphalt and blood. Her broken legs bent out at an unnatural angle, a grotesque reminder of the fragility of the human limbs.
A pump, a silly over expensive high heel shoe still attached to one of her broken legs, served as a haunting symbol of the horror that had unfolded.
The ambulance arrived with a wail of sirens, its red and blue lights casting an ominous glow on the scene. Paramedics carefully attended to her, the gravity of the situation bearing down on me. The echoes of the day's dual tragedies lingered in the air of my office, a heavy silence punctuated only by distant sirens and the muffled gasps of onlookers.
The grandfather clock resumed its measured ticking, bringing me back to the present moment.
I remained seated, my fingers now unconsciously tracing the smooth edges of the desk. The events of this fateful day had left an indelible mark, a dark stain and cloud on my routine of advocating for the indefensible, defending those who perpetrate heinous crimes such as murder, rape and white collar crime solely for financial gain.
That was my insidious manifestation of the sin of greed, where the lure of money literally blinded me. The oak desk, once a symbol of power and control, now felt like a witness to the fragility of life. Twice in one day.
Two lives, intertwined with mine in different ways, had been altered irreversibly. The weight of the day pressed upon me.
By the way, my name is Vincent Harlow, and I run a very profitable on the edge law firm in the heart of his city. It was his city, his people I was representing. My reputation as a ruthless and cunning lawyer was well earned, but nothing could have prepared me for the sinister turn my life was about to take.
It all began with Amelia, beautiful and sexy Miss Turner, a much younger woman than me with an air of mystery that intrigued me from the moment I saw her being hit by the car, the moment she later rolled into my office in her red wheelchair, both her broken legs elevated in leg rest.
She was dressed in a very sexy and tight fitting black dress... with her long, totally non weight bearing pink casts peeking out from beneath stylish pantyhose. She didn't look vulnerable at all but in her wheelchair, instead she looked dangerous and so attractive. I can't explain why I felt like I did towards this young woman, maybe if you read more you will understand. It's up to you.
"Please to meet you "she said and the song was back in my head.
Prelude to Darkness
Part 2 to come
K
Thursday, December 7, 2023
Wednesday, December 6, 2023
Prelude to Darkness intro
In our social media world, what if an eighth deadly sin emerged, the tempting menace of Fetishism, a perilous temptation surpassing conventional desires. This sin would be an obsessive fixation on unconventional and often taboo objects or acts, leading individuals down a path of distorted desires that overshadow genuine connections.
The sin of Fetishism would create a web of compulsive and unhealthy attractions, eroding the fabric of meaningful relationships as the pursuit of these unconventional desires takes precedence. Resisting the seduction of Fetishism would demand a return to wholesome and authentic connections, emphasizing the importance of genuine human bonds over the fleeting allure of fetishistic indulgences.
Bla, bla, bla
Listen to me, complete bullshit...
"Welcome to a tale inspired from your own desires, fears and emails. In the year 2024, my daughter steps forth in your world where the mundane meets the macabre. Witness her journey, a beautiful dance between good and bad, as she seeks retribution against those who dared...I, Satan, invite you to explore the depths of frailty and the darkness and beauty that lies within my beloved and sexy daughter, where the boundaries between pleasure and pain, justice and vengeance, young and old, become but mere illusions.
I challenge you to read part 1, just as I urged my daughter in her sexy high heels shoes to step from the sidewalk to the crosswalk. She embodies the woman of your dreams, the irresistible love of your life that you find impossible to resist.
I mean look at her photo, those eyes and lips...
Respectfully yours
Satan
Tuesday, December 5, 2023
Monday, December 4, 2023
The president's daughter conclusion
In the privacy of my apartment, I was excited as I carefully plotted my next move. Eager to surprise Mia, I stood before the full-length mirror, studying my reflection as if composing a new sexual persona to please my lover. I had already ordered a cotton amputee sock, and a set of crutches, carefully concealing them from Mia's view. As I began to apply the make-believe stump, wrapping my leg, I was amazed at the authenticity of the illusion taking shape before my eyes.
Pretending to be an amputee felt strangely natural to me, as if it were an extension of my own sexual persona. Adjusting my weight onto the crutches, I tested my balance, my movements guided by a need to surprise and please sexually my future wife.
As I looked at my legs, I rubbed my make-believe stump, the flesh-toned material blending seamlessly with my skin. I adjusted the sock, ensuring a snug fit, the gradual loss of sensation in my left leg was unfamiliar yet such a sexual turn on, the added challenge was such a thrill.
As I took tentative steps across the room on my crutches I felt a rush between my leg and stump, with a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I couldn't wait to see the look of surprise on Mia's face.
Rummaging through my small collection of shoes, I searched for the perfect high heel that would complement the illusion. I carefully considered the height, the shape, and the color, knowing that the right shoe would not only complete the look but also add a touch of sophistication to my persona.
I slipped on the shoe, loving the way it elevated my posture and added to my playful transformation. The gentle curve of the heel added a sway in my step, while the subtle click of the sole and stiletto heel on the floor resonated. As I stood before the mirror, the complete image took shape.
The sight of the sleek pencil skirt hugging my curves, its deep navy hue contrasting with my white blouse hugging my breasts. The hem of the skirt fell just above my knee allowing a glimpse of the artificial amputated limb.
Leaving my apartment, the gentle click of my heel echoed softly in the hallway. I glided through the hallway, the elegant sway of my stump between the crutches became a seamless extension of my body's newfound grace. As I approached Mia's door, the scent of familiarity greeted me, a blend of her favorite candles.
With a gentle knock, the anticipation swelled, listening to the soft echo of her own crutches that followed. The door swung open, revealing the radiant smile that graced Mia's face, with its irresistible charm.
Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise as she took in my striking new appearance having recently recreationally lost my left leg at the knee following a terrible accident.
"Wow, you look amazing, come in, come in. I've been waiting for you but I wasn't expecting you to look so amazing only 2 days after your amputation," she played on.
I could see her gaze lingering appreciatively on my stump. Mia leaned gently on her crutches, closing the distance between leg cast and my strong right leg, and softly pressed her lips against mine while her cast rubbed my leg.
As her tongue gently explored, every sexual nerve in my body seemed to come alive, pulsating with a desire that I could no longer contain. Our kiss deepened, becoming a passionate exchange. I held her closer, time seemed to stand still as we enjoyed the intimacy of the moment, letting our hearts guide us to a place where nothing else mattered.
Our crutches dropped simultaneously, the clatter on the floor barely audible amidst the intensity of the moment. Mia, being careful not to put weight on her short cast knowing her tibia couldn't take it, she skilfully hopped over to the couch. Meanwhile, I balanced on one leg, the high heel adding an extra challenge, but my determination to be close to Mia eclipsed any discomfort.
I looked into those haunting blue eyes. Less than 6 inches separated us. Mia then leaned forward and kissed me on the lips with her hand on my stump rubbing it while she looked into my face for a reaction and found happiness that I was pleasing her.
"Oh God Sarah I wasn't sure how you would feel about my sexual attraction to amputees but this is more than my craziest dream."
"To tell the truth, to see you the last 6 weeks in your cast and on crutches made it easier to try it,"
I kissed her once again and felt her mouth open, allowing my tongue easy access. Our tongues met and began to dart in and out of each other's mouth. I began to unbutton Mia's blouse, slipping my hand inside her bra and I cup her perfect breasts while my fingers began to work their magic on her long hard nipples.
She let out a soft moan, just to let me know that she wanted me to continue. Her broken leg rubbing against my stump. Within seconds her blouse was on the floor and I removed her bra.
"You are so sexy Mia," before she could say anything my mouth was on her dark nipples, my tongue licking.
Her hands moved down to my stump then my skirt. I shifted a little, lifting my ass off the couch. With a slow and caring tug, she pulled my skirt and panties along my stump and good long leg. She began to kiss downward, along my belly, I was totally shaved.
Mia slipped a finger inside me followed by her tongue. My stump and leg were stretched as far apart as I could. For the moment I was content to just enjoy her. She thrusted her eager tongue in and out.
She then carefully stood up on her short leg cast and foot, her broken leg without the support of her crutches was very vulnerable, pain showing across her face. Despite the slight wince, her blue eyes were bright with lust and sexual needs.
With graceful movements, she swayed her hips slowly, her body gently following the rhythm of an imaginary melody. While caressing her large breasts, her eyes were on my short stump.
I was transfixed by her beauty while I kept masturbating. I couldn't help but watch as she danced, her broken leg dangerously bearing the weight with the pain she was undoubtedly feeling.
"You're amazing, so sexy but be careful."
Mia's gesture caught me off guard when she leaned in and pulled me up, on my one leg. She couldn't help but moan from the pain and pleasure she was feeling as she supported my weight, her broken leg taking the strain, and the pain coursing through her sexy long body was evident.
"Careful," I said as I steadied myself on my single leg, I couldn't feel my wrapped leg anymore, just like an amputee would while she was holding me up. In that quiet, intimate moment, our eyes locked, Mia's grip tightened on me as she moaned.
"I love you," I whispered.
Mia's lips curled into a tender smile. "I love you too, Sarah. More than words can say."
I brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, my fingers gentle as they traced the curve of her cheek.
"Will you marry me?"
"Yes, Sarah. A thousand times, yes,"
But as Mia leaned in, her gaze locked with mine, a flicker of hesitation evident in her eyes.
"Sarah, I think I might have broken my leg again dancing on my cast," she said quietly licking her lips, smiling.
My heart sank at the news, I couldn't feel my leg and wondered how long it would take before...You know.
"We'll figure it out. We'll find a way, my sexy amputee,"Mia said, rubbing my stump and then she kissed me keeping her broken leg off the floor.
The end
K