Prelude to Darkness part 7

 Prelude to Darkness

Part 7

As Satan shook my hand, I locked eyes with Amelia, anticipating nothing out of the ordinary. However, an unexpected twist accompanied the gesture. A sudden, agonizing jolt shot through my right arm, and I couldn't suppress a gasp. As I looked down, I noticed Satan's parting gift, my dislocated thumb and broken arm. His words, delivered with otherworldly charm, echoed in my ears,

"Merry Christmas, Vincent. Imagine what I would do to you if you hurt my daughter"

After Satan's departure, leaving Amelia and me in a quiet corner to reflect on the night's peculiar turn of events. Her gaze flickered between my face and the slight discomfort evident as I cradled my broken arm.

"Oh Vincent, I'm so sorry" she began, her voice a delicate blend of curiosity and excitement, "how does it feel?"

I winced, "Well, it's not exactly pleasant. Satan has quite the handshake."

Amelia's lips curved into a mischievous smile while she intentionally rubbed her broken leg against me. "Mmm, I bet. But you know, Vincent, there will be something attractive about seeing you in a medical cast."

Amelia was clearly interested, excited, and perhaps something deeper. The notion of me in a long arm cast was clearly turning her on sexually.

"Would you mind if I had a closer look? I swear I won't hurt you" she asked, her eyes glinting with a playful curiosity.

I nodded, offering my injured arm for her inspection. As she gently examined the affected area, I couldn't help but wonder about the connection between us. Amelia leaned over and her red perfect lips traced the contours of my broken arm sending waves of pain, then her tongue darted my dislocated thumb... The lines between desire and reality blurred once more. Everything about this woman was on the edge.

Dr. Steffi Robinson, Satan's private physician, emerged from the shadows like he did earlier, the atmosphere took on a surreal quality. Her eyes locked onto my injured arm and she gestured for me to sit, and as I settled into a chair, anticipation filled the air. With a gentle yet precise touch, Dr. Robinson meticulously manipulated my dislocated thumb, delicately guiding it back into its proper position with precision, expertise and pain.

Once satisfied with the alignment, "Vincent, I would like to continue the treatment in a more private setting. Follow me to my room; we need to apply a long arm cast for optimal healing."

Once inside the room, Amelia assisted me in removing my shirt, revealing the injured arm. First, she applied a layer of soft cotton padding to the skin. Next, she selected the roll of fibreglass casting tape, dripped in water, and removed the excess water. As she began wrapping the tape around my arm, a sense of warmth and security enveloped me. Gradually forming the structure of the cast, protecting my broken arm and thumb.

Dr. Robinson's hands moved with conviction, navigating the contours of my arm, the solid white cast took shape, encasing my arm from my hand and thumb to way past my elbow. As Dr. Robinson secured the final layers, she glanced up with a reassuring smile.

Amelia, standing by my side on her crutches, observed the process with fascination. She leaned in, her lips inches away from my ear. "Vincent," she whispered, her breath caressing my ear, "I'm so sorry my dad did that to you"

Her fingers delicately grazed the edge of my cast, and I felt a current of energy coursing through me. With my broken arm and Amelia's broken leg, we made our way to the waiting limo. Amelia on her crutches was beside me with a soft click of her crutches against the floor. She leaned in and kissed me.

As we approached the sleek black limo, I carefully eased myself into the back seat. Amelia, with her broken leg, followed suit, navigating the confined space with ease. She slid her cast into the limo, the sleek surface of her cast brushing against the upholstery. The soft glow from the interior lights accentuated the contours of her cast, creating a silhouette. With a subtle twist and turn, she settled into the seat, her crutches beside her.

Once we arrived home, Amelia, still on her crutches, looked exhausted, her face reflecting the toll of navigating the festivities with a broken leg. I followed her towards the bedroom, I noticed the fatigue in her eyes but the sexy red dress still clung to her every curve.

Once in the bedroom, I helped Amelia sit on the edge of the bed, I leaned her crutches against the nightstand. The anticipation of what was to come painted a soft smile on her face.

With delicate movements, I knelt down, my cast tracing the line of her leg cast. Her eyes met mine, sexual desire dancing within them. Carefully, I unzipped her dress and she lifted up her arms and I pulled it off over her head. I kissed her and she looked so desirable in her bra and lace garter belt attached to her stoking.

I lifted her broken leg, her cast in my hand and removed the small black sock, kissing her exposed toes at the end of her red cast. Then I did the same to her good leg, pulling off the high heel pump before removing her stoking. Holding on to her foot with my broken arm, I spent a few minutes on her good foot, licking and kissing her arch and toes.

She untied my pants and my penis applied pressure against her vagina. She moaned as I slowly penetrated her, my large penis going deeper into her. She pulled herself up by my broken arm and we kissed while I slowly and gently pleased her. She groaned and moaned in my mouth, biting my lips. I started to go faster and faster, my penis was pulsating inside her. Her eyes were closed when her orgasm shook her all over and I came inside her.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, we found ourselves seated at the coffee table, sipping on freshly brewed coffee. Amelia, on the chair with her crutches by her side, took a sip from her cup while her long red cast peeked out beneath the robe.

Our conversation turned to the unique characters we encountered at Satan's Christmas party. The siren and demon, and the sexy wheelchair-bound lesbian couple. Amelia's eyes sparkled as she recalled the details, they had made quite an impression on her.

"The poor siren with her broken arms was so beautiful."

She glanced at my broken arm, her gaze lingering on the cast. "Speaking of which," she said, her tone teasing and her fingers on my broken thumb , "you were quite a hit with your own special accessory. How's the arm feeling today?"

I flexed my fingers, testing my mobility. "Not too bad, considering. Dr. Robinson did her magic."

"You know, it's fascinating how everyone at the party had their own story, their own struggles."

"True. All sexy within their own burdens."

Amelia's gaze shifted to her leg cast, and she smiled. "Speaking of burdens, Monday is when I get my new cast."

Prelude to Darkness
conclusion to come
K

Clip 381 Broken foot, crutches

Clip 380 Sprained ankle, crutches, boot

Prelude to Darkness part 6

 Prelude to Darkness

Part 6

The sleek black limo came to a smooth stop in front of the opulent entrance to Satan's Xmas party. Anticipating Amelia's graceful exit, I instinctively moved to assist. The chauffeur opened the door. Amelia, in her sexy red dress and one high heel shoe, delicately slid her long, broken leg out of the limo.

"Vincent," she purred, extending a hand toward me. "Assistance, please." Like she needed help but I offered a hand anyway. "You've got it."

With careful precision, Amelia stepped out, her red cast grazing my leg. As her heels met the ground, she shifted gracefully onto her crutches, a movement perfected by weeks of navigating the world on her own terms. The festive allure of the infernal party awaited, and I couldn't help but think at how beautiful she looked.

"Ready for a night in the depths of indulgence, Vincent?" she teased.

"More than ready. Lead the way."

And so, with Amelia guiding the way on her crutches, we entered Satan's soirée, where the boundary between sin and celebration blurred in a symphony of desires, fetishes and forbidden delights.

As we walked into the room, a first couple immediately drew her attention as Amelia and I strolled through her crutches tapping on the polished floor, she was fascinated with the captivating couple.

"Vincent", she mused, her eyes fixated on the scene, "The demon in a Tuxedo with full leg braces, and his sexy young succubus with those two short walking casts. It's like she's dancing using her 2 walking sticks for support."

It's so hard to describe but this young woman was rocking this adorable dress with two broken legs, in short walking casts, and she was using these fancy walking sticks to hobble around.

"They're quite a sight, aren't they?" I remarked, sensing Amelia's genuine interest.

"Absolutely,her existence as a succubus provides desire and darkness. Like in my life fate dealt her a peculiar hand but that gown... simply exquisite."

In another corner of the room, wearing festive colors, a short man in a serpent costume danced with a siren in a tight-fitting suit. Amelia nudged me, saying, "Vincent, look at them. I think she's already fallen in her one-legged siren costume."

The beautiful siren had two broken arms, one in a short cast and the other in a full arm cast. Despite her inability to move, she danced with her partner, who supported her balance. She was a vision rubbing him all over with her broken arm, he was so close to orgasm that Amelia was unable to contain her intrigue and walked to the couple on her crutches.

"Hello, lovely Amelia, so nice to see you again" the siren greeted as Amelia approached the dancing couple on her crutches. A subtle smile adorned Amelia's face as she engaged in conversation.

Amelia, unable to contain her sexual attraction, "Your dance is mesmerizing with two broken arms. How did you break them?"

The siren smiled and with her cast caressed Amelia left breast, "Ah, it was a dance with fate, my dear. A bad fall orchestrated by your father. But tell me, how did you end up with those stylish crutches?" Amelia's smile grew, and she playfully moved closer, her fingers delicately tracing the contours of the siren's hard casts.

"Oh, a hit-and-run artist left me originally with two broken legs, but this one," she pointed to her sexy long red cast, "refused to heal properly."

My eyes were captivated by the broken arms of the siren, seamlessly blending with my girlfriend's body. Rubbing from her tight behind to her round breasts, the sight was so erotic. Amelia turned back to me and smiled, then she leaned down and kissed her, still looking at me for a reaction.

Satan's daughter had clearly been turned on by the results of her dad's action.

I watched as she moved her hard cast forward between the siren's legs and softly pressed her lips against hers at the same. The younger lady opened them up ever so slightly. I stared at the red cast, her wet vagina leaving a trace, rubbing against it, she was moaning quietly. Their tongues met and the siren came all over my girlfriend's broken leg.

As the demon and the siren moved away, Amelia, leaning on her crutches, turned her attention toward me. Her eyes sparkled with pure lust after that encounter. She moved closer and the air around us charged with a sexual energy.

On our way to meet her father, we came across 2 beautiful women. There was nothing erotic or even sensual around them, the atmosphere was one of grace and kindness, their genuine smiles radiating warmth.

The first woman was sitting in her wheelchair with both legs broken and beside her was her life partner, who, unfortunately, had lost the use of her legs in the same car accident. Despite the challenges life had thrown at them, their love was evident in the way they interacted.

Amelia, on her crutches, approached them and a conversation started. The woman with both legs in casts shared their story.

"It all happened so fast in a car accident, a moment that changed our life."

The second woman rolled closer and with her hand on one of the long cast of her wife, her eyes filled with vulnerability, added, "And my partner has been my rock, helping me navigate this new reality, even with 2 badly broken legs"

Amelia nodded, her eyes reflecting solidarity with the two women. "God has a way of testing us, but it also opens doors to remarkable connections."

As we approached a table, Amelia struggled in her tight fitting dress and her long cast to sit down, so I offered a supportive hand. The smile on her lips spoke volumes about the spirit within her.

"Vincent, what if I had my own special interest in these fetishes?" She asked

A raised eyebrow conveyed my curiosity as I awaited her revelation.

"You know, Vincent, I might just have a desire to see you in a cast. A little fantasy of mine, if you will."

As we navigated the vibrant corridors of this huge property, I couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the night might unfold. While we were kissing Satan himself made a discreet appearance. The air seemed to change right away as the dark figure approached. Amelia, breaking away from our kiss, greeted her father with a warm smile.

"Hello father, I hope you enjoyed what you saw at the party?" she asked, kissing him on the lips.

Satan, red eyes gleaming with paternal pride, nodded. "Indeed, my dear. You looked absolutely enchanting in your full leg cast and the way you move on your crutches looks like you were meant to be on them permanently. Like a very sexy crippled woman"

Amelia blushed at the compliment and suggestion, I saw her gaze lingered on her long red cast, the perfect shape of it. Then she moved to her right leg, strong and capable. A subtle realization sparked in her eyes, and a mischievous smile played on her lips as she looked at her underarm crutches and considered the intriguing possibility that her father had unveiled...

"Would forearm crutches be better if ever..."

Satan's gaze then shifted to me, his presence imposing. "Vincent, a pleasure to have you here. I trust the festivities met your expectations?"

I didn't have any expectations but I extended my hand in a respectful gesture. "Thank you sir, It was an extraordinary experience."

As Satan shook my hand, I stared in Amelia's eyes as an unexpected...

Prelude to Darkness
Part 7 to come
K

Clip 379 Broken leg, cast, crutches

Clip 378 Broken foot, crutches, boot

Prelude to Darkness part 5

I mean how often do you get an invitation to a Christmas party from Satan?

Dear Vincent,
You are hereby summoned, (scratch that) invited to a celebration like no other. The gates to hell will open to welcome you to a Christmas soiree hosted by the Prince of Darkness himself, me.

Join us in decadence.

Attire: This is no ordinary gathering, let your choice of attire reflect the duality of your existence, between the mortal you are and the fetish world that drives your sexuality.

Venue: Well Amelia will advise the driver. I’m sure you can understand for safety reasons.

Entertainment: The pure mortal shall enchant you with performances that defy the ordinary.

Refreshments: My daughter is yours for now, she owes you for what you did.

Date and Time: It shall commence on the eve of Christmas and ends when everybody is fully satisfied sexually. Prepare yourself for a Christmas celebration like you have never seen before Vincent. The underworld awaits you.

With infernal regards,
Satan, Lord of Darkness

Normally, Christmas was just another day on the calendar for me, a time when the world adorned itself with festive lights while I remained indifferent to the celebrations. But now, there was Amelia, Satan's daughter, who had the uncanny ability to turn ordinary moments into extraordinary experiences.

“Vincent, are you seriously telling me you've never celebrated Christmas?” Amelia asked, leaning on her crutches.

I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. “Never really saw the point, but I suppose exceptions can be made.”

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, you're in for a treat. My dad knows how to throw a party.”

"You see, Vincent, It's not about the tinsel or the carols, it's about the vulnerabilities and desires that surface in the hearts of mortals during that season, we see it everywhere every year.”

She slowly licked her lips, perhaps sensing the curiosity in my gaze. "Think of it as regular folks exploring their own fetishes, Vincent. It’s like a man might wish that his girlfriend who is on crutches for 4 months for broken legs may not be enough , maybe he wants her permanently, mobile but with crutches, very sexy but crippled” she said moving around the room on her own crutches looking totally desirable.

“I remember Belinda, Vincent”

“How do you know about Belinda?”

“That’s not important, when she came to the office with a broken tibia, in a white plaster cast, and crutches for seven weeks? Did you really think she broke it falling off a step ladder while putting up the Christmas tree with her husband? “

“Maybe she did, why not?”

“Common, Vincent, three days before Christmas, her husband wanted more than another recreational cast, and she... loved him. You felt in love with her even if she was married that day seeing her in her cast, didn’t you?"

Vincent couldn't shake the images of Belinda back at the office with a broken tibia and her subsequent weeks in a white plaster cast. She was short, petite and very beautiful. Was it really just a misstep from a step ladder while decorating the Christmas tree with her husband?

Amelia was getting ready for the party, her long red cast was a striking accessory while it peeked out from beneath her vibrant red dress. Her right leg was in a stocking super flirty looking. The lace garter belt, attached to the net stockings added a stunning elegant touch.

A small black sock, one of mine protected her little toes, a subtle touch to protect them that peeked out at the end of her cast. The red dress she wore followed her lovely silhouette, cascading gracefully and ending at the knee. Her hair was elegantly gathered in a bun, with a few loose strands framing her face. As she moved gracefully through my house on her one Christian Louboutin, red Kate Psychic pointed toe pump, she looked charming.

That night, she chose to use her black underarm crutches, a nice contrast. Our interactions were laced with dialogues and stolen glances at her broken leg and sexy stocking. Amelia knew it and she would shoot me a look that spoke of pure lust.

“You know, Vincent, it's refreshing to see you stepping out of your comfort zone,” she remarked, her long fingers rubbing her cast inching up slowly.

I couldn't help but smile and stare at her long fingers. “Well, they say there's a first time for everything. You, of all people should know that”

She tilted her head and lifted her fingers to her lips, her eyes narrowing playfully. “And I never pegged you for someone who appreciates the magic of a painful break of ladies leg healing in its cast.”

I was caught off guard. “Leg casts? Yes but not a lady in pain” Amelia nodded, her gaze lingering on my right leg while she caressed her right breasts.

“You're what they call a caster or a snapper, right? Someone who loves ladies in leg casts? Or someone that sexually fantasies about more?”

I couldn't deny the truth in her words. “Guilty as charged, sometimes I find both intriguing.”

“Well, consider this Christmas party a feast for your eyes, Vincent. I might have a surprise or two for you.”

Amelia's words hung in the air, slowly, she moved towards me on her crutches, stood before me, her presence dominating the space like she often did. She leaned in, her lips finding mine, the kiss was full of passion and sexual tension. As our lips met her fingers found my penis and the world outside ceased to exist. She dropped her crutches as she wrapped her arms around me.

I couldn't resist her. I picked her up in my arms, our eyes met. Carrying her to the kitchen counter, I wanted us to be eye to eye in this intimate moment. She smiled on the counter, it reminded her of an affair she had years ago with a divorced father, who lets be blunt loved to fuck her on the counter.

My hands found the place on the small of her back, I traced the contours of her body through the fabric of her red dress. The contrast between the softness of the dress and the complexity of the red cast against my leg was amazing.

I had one hand on her right leg, in the long black stocking while she freed my penis and my hand explored the calf muscles and curves of her right leg. She sensually slid her cast between my legs, against my penis, teasing me and rubbing me.

Amelia, in that moment, transformed into any man or woman's dream lover. She applied more pressure with her broken leg while I slid my fingers along her red cast to her dripping vagina.

“Have you ever imagined breaking your arm and thumb Vincent? I have, I’m the one who broke it, picture it, long arm cast, a bit inconvenient but maybe kind of... interesting?” she whimpered.

I could imagine and feel my broken thumb in a cast while I pushed my cast inside her, the rough surface looking for her clitoris and then she pulled me closer. I drove my penis inside her, moving in and out. Soon she was moaning from the pressure on her swollen clitoris while both of our orgasms grew closer.

Her eyes were closed, her hands caressed her round breasts, pulling hard on her nipples, her back arched, moaning and growling louder and louder, she was the perfect animal for me. I groaned and pushed my penis into her harder and faster. I could feel the ripples inside her of her orgasm while I drove deeper into her if that was at all possible until we both came.

While catching my breath I stared into her eyes and wondered what she met when she said “I might have a surprise or two for you.”

Prelude to Darkness
Part 6 to come
K

Clip 377 Broken ankle, black cast , crutches part 2

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

Clip 376Broken ankle, black cast , crutches part 1

clip 375 Crippled legs, calipers, crutches

Clip 374 Hit by a car, broken leg, Leg cast, CLC, wheelchair part 1

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

Clip 373 Broken leg, cast, crutches, SLC part 3

Clip 372 Broken leg, cast, crutches, SLC part 2

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

clip 371 Broken leg, cast, crutches, SLC part 1

Clip 370 Bus accident, broken leg, crutch

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

Clip 369 Hit by a car, broken leg, Leg cast, CLC, wheelchair part 2