Thursday, April 4, 2024
Wednesday, April 3, 2024
Whispers in the wall part 2
Whispers in the Walls
Part 2
"M1, zoom in on her broken ankle" I asked while I unbuttoned my jeans, I paused for a moment looking at her broken ankle while I smelled the wetness of my vagina. I slid down my jeans and tore my white silk panties off me.
Diana attempted to find comfort with her broken ankle but her efforts proved fruitless as the pain continued to linger, leaving her in a state of distress. Her breathing became laboured from the discomfort, her face contorting in pain as she tried to relax. She began to murmur softly, trying to distract herself from the pain. She closed her eyes while her orgasm rocked her injured body as she tried to focus on that sensation rather than the pain in her ankle.
I reached down and my finger slid along my vagina until I pushed deeper into me, fingering myself, loving the heat while looking at her broken ankle and sensing my swollen clitoris under my fingertip. I was so ready to cum.
I was out of control, Diana misfortune stirred up an unusual mixture of emotions within me as I witnessed the unexpected turn of events. While the image of her delicate movements previously filled my heart with admiration, now I felt a sudden spike of pure sexual excitement at the sight of her injury. A profound sense of concern and love for the future of the woman rippled through me as I watched her find some relief the same way I did.
Breathing hard she caressed her broken ankle, she slid her fingers from her lower leg to her ankle and she squeezed it between her long fingers...
"Ohhh...Goddd" She moaned quietly, somehow matching my own sensation created by my fingers rubbing along and inside myself.
As she continued rubbing her ankle, her eyes shifted to the small cell phone on her bedside table. I watched her crawl over to the phone and picked it up, slowly bringing it up to her ear. She winced at the sharp pain of the movement, but managed to dial her friend's number with shaky hands.
The relief on Diana's face was obvious as her friend's voice filled her ear. She struggled to stay calm, the pain making it difficult to articulate. "I...I hurt my ankle," she said, her voice trembling. "I think...I think I broke it."
"I'm coming right over," her friend promised, the urgency in her voice matching the gravity of the situation.
I watched my wall of monitors until moments later, Diana's friend arrived at her unit.
"I'm here," she exclaimed, her eyes widening in concern as she took in Diana's state. With a gentle touch, she helped her to her good foot, supporting her weight as they slowly made their way out of the building.
"I can't believe this happened," Diana murmured, leaning heavily on her friend as they navigated the hallway. "I was just practising, and then..." Her voice trailed off, the reality of the situation sinking in as they reached the door.
As I watched Diana and her friend leave the building, attraction washed over me. The sight of her, leaning heavily on her friend, her broken ankle elevated and the pain etched on her face matched the ache in my own heart, witnessing this talented and sexy woman navigate through unexpected adversity.
I felt guilty too, knowing that my voyeuristic tendencies had possibly and inadvertently led to this moment. Yet the whispers in the walls grew louder, propelling me towards a path of understanding and redemption. Redemption you asked? Well... with the certainty that Diana would soon be navigating my world on crutches, her right leg in a cast, the gravity of her broken ankle was evident.
I couldn't help but feel a surge of pure sexual arousal thinking that her broken ankle was sure to keep her on crutches for a while, and the thought of her on crutches, in a cast sent a jolt through my own weak leg. The whispers in the walls kept growing louder as my fingers began to caress my breasts, thighs, and even my right ankle, the same one Diana had broken in front of me.
As she made her way back to her unit on crutches, my eyes followed her every step. The perfect short white cast clinging to her right lower leg, ankle and foot, transformed her steps into a new elegant dance. With each step, her crutches clicked rhythmically against the polished floors. She was beautiful with her cast standing out, the subtle waves of her hair framed her face, both showing strength and femininity.
Unable to resist the urge, I hurriedly threw on a nightgown and raced down the stairs to the hallways leading to her unit. My heart raced with anticipation as I approached her door, my mind buzzing with thoughts of how I could offer assistance, comfort and make wild love to her.
"Hello, Diana," I called out softly as I knocked on her door, my voice filled with genuine concern.
"I saw you coming in on crutches. Is everything alright? Can I help with anything?" The door creaked open, revealing her so beautiful, standing there on her crutches with a slight smile on her face despite the discomfort of her injury.
"Oh, Sharon, it's you," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude.
"I broke my ankle earlier while training, but it's nothing too serious, no surgery. Just a temporary setback."
I couldn't help but notice the slight hesitation in her voice, the unspoken acknowledgement of the challenges ahead. As I stood before her, there was a stark contrast between video voyeurism, observing from a distance, to now being in person, so close to her. A crazy sexual surge welled up between my short legs.
I swear, every detail was amplified 10x. The gentle curve of her knee bent slightly brought her white cast inches from the polished hardwood floor. The stark white of the cast contrasted her tan and tone upper leg, drawing attention to the temporary but attractive alteration to her physical form.
Her hair, cascading in soft waves around her face, added a touch of femininity to her otherwise determined stance. A slight discomfort was evident in her expression.
As I examined her broken ankle, my eyes traced the contours of the medical cast, noting the precision with which it supported her injured ankle and foot. The smooth surface of the cast bore no marks of wear yet.
I squeezed my legs, unable to please myself sexually at the moment looking at her crutches, positioned strategically beneath her arms. She was so beautiful leaning on them and the click of the crutches against the floor was totally unique to each individual person needing them.
"If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. We're neighbours now, after all."
It was such a small moment, but it had such a profound impact on me. Diana's injury had struck me in this sudden, surprising way that I hadn't expected. As a new neighbour, I was already captivated by her beauty and grace, but this sudden vulnerability had caught me off guard. I found myself finding this woman so sexy.
Back in my bedroom, the idea of her broken ankle was intoxicating to me, and the way she needed to rely on her crutches was like a sexual magnet. While I know this might not be a traditionally acceptable kink, I felt that if you closed your eyes and...
Whispers in the walls
Part 3 to come
K
Tuesday, April 2, 2024
Monday, April 1, 2024
Whispers in the walls part 1
Whispers in the Walls
Part 1
I returned to my penthouse after a day immersed in the world of AI machine learning while working for a large private firm. I kicked off my high heels sandals at the door, removed my skirt and blouse and grabbed my old jeans and a soft t-shirt. Barefoot, I walked around the spacious rooms, my penthouse was perched at the top of my building and it offered a 360 degree panoramic view of my neighbourhood.
As I settle in, my fingers dance over my keyboards in front of a wall of monitors, each screen coming to life, as a window into the lives inside my property. Diana, residing in unit 101, captures my attention first dancing in her studio with the grace of a beautiful ballet dancer. A soft glow of lights illuminates her world as she effortlessly moves through her routines, a beautiful combination of fluidity, precision,strength and oh so sexy.
"M1 zoom in and track her full muscular body" I asked my system and it zoomed in on her beauty and talent. I became captivated by the sheer elegance of all her movements, they were a testament to years of dedication to her craft, each pirouette and extension telling a story of hard work and discipline.
Even if she was working hard at the moment, to me her apartment was transformed into a stage, and I was the silent spectator. I was attracted by the artistry unfolding before me. Her ballet is more than just a dance; it's a love language.
My monitor became my personal theatre to her life, as if I were seated in the front row of a prestigious auditorium. I find myself lost in the poetry of her movements, a willing audience wondering for a second how she would react if she knew I was watching her from the private world to my monitor, 8K resolution, curved panel, top of the line.
At 5 foot 10, Diana possessed a striking presence, her slim frame moving with the fluidity of a seasoned dancer. Beyond her physical beauty, her gentle smile illuminated the room, making her not just a dancer, but so much more to me.
"M1 please zoom in on her legs from her hip down." In these moments, my voyeuristic tendencies are driven not by intrusion but by a genuine appreciation for the beauty that Diana brings into our building. As I watch her lovely long legs this time, I notice something new, a small hesitation in her movements. It's like something is waiting to be unveiled.
Something was wrong.
In the soft glow of the monitor screens, as Diana's ballet unfolded before me, a wave of nostalgia washes over my senses, triggering memories I thought were safely tucked away. I find myself drawn back to a time when I, too, was immersed in the world of grace and power in competitive gymnastics.
But that chapter in my life came to an abrupt halt by the cruel intervention of a motorcycle accident, a pick up truck versus the motorcycle I was a passenger on for the very first time. It was a moment etched in time that shattered not just the bones in my leg but my gymnastics dreams and a woman's life I dearly loved.
The accident left me in the sterile environment of a hospital room. During the initial weeks my left leg was in traction, an uncomfortable treatment that kept me bound to the bed. Later on, as days turned into months, my various leg casts became a constant companion, wrapping my leg like a protective cocoon. All the broken bones in my leg, ankle and knee clearly showed the fragility of dreams and life.
The monotony of hospital walls gave way to incredible entries in my diary, describing each step of the process after being in traction was accompanied by the click of my crutches on cold linoleum floors. The once effortless and graceful movements became a slow and deliberate dance with pain and slow progress.
Through the phases of casts and crutches, I loved the beauty of movement on crutches when in a leg cast, a profound understanding of my new physical limitations imposed by various leg casts and much later on a sexy long brace on my left leg and shattered ankle.
As Diana concluded her ballet practice, I returned to the present moment, one of the monitors, still displaying Diana that was now on the phone and I became a silent witness to her life beyond the dance having a wild and disturbing emotional conversation..
In this interlude, my mind drifted to another facet of my peculiar interests, a very unconventional modern version of Truth or Dare that I've crafted. It's a game that goes beyond the typical party amusement, it's a very unique exploration of players' vulnerabilities. In this 2024 digital rendition, facilitated through a very secure and private platform, participants, including myself, are presented with a series of thought-provoking questions and daring challenges.
As the creator of this unique application, I became both an observer and participant. The participants navigated the challenges and truths, exposing vulnerabilities in a controlled environment. It was through "Truth or Dare" that I hoped to bridge the gap between my voyeuristic tendencies and a genuine desire to understand the intricate lives that unfold within these private units.
"Truth or dare?" The sexy British female voice echoed through my condo, challenging me with a simple yet daring choice. My response, a mischievous smile played on my lips with a swift "dare" while I stared at Diana's long and sexy legs on the monitor.
"OK Sharon, I dare you to stand on the chair with 3-inch heels and jump off. I'm just kidding..."
"I accept the dare"
A surge of excitement coursed through me as I think of the audacious challenge laid before me. It's a dare that alone in my penthouse could be very dangerous. The source of this daring proposal, the mysterious female voice of my Truth or Dare application seems to sense a physical need for an adventure, a possible 6 to 8 weeks adventure it seems.
I wasn't going to do it and yet with a playful glint in my eye, I rose from my seat, slipping into a pair of 3-inch heels pumps. The soft click of my footsteps reverberates through the penthouse as I approach "the" chair. I wasn't going to do it and yet after a momentary pause, a quick steadying of my breath... I climbed on the small chair.
I held my breath as I balanced precariously, my 3-inch heels amplified the thrill of this crazy dare.
"You know better Sharon, don't do it" the soft British voice, but somehow smiling voice of the application said throughout my penthouse
In the suspended moment just before I do the dare, my gaze instinctively returns to the monitor displaying Diana's ballet practice. Her mesmerizing dance resumed, the virtual world of Truth or Dare blended seamlessly with the reality of my penthouse. As I prepare to take the leap, the connection between me and Diana intensified, bridging the gap between the observer and observed.
While finishing another daring pirouette, She was now the observer and I was being observed somehow. Don't ask me how that's possible. During Diana's unexpected distraction looking at me, some would say a twist of fate, her elegant movements took a haunting turn.
"Oh noooo" A gasp escaped my lips as I witnessed the unthinkable, her right ankle buckled beneath her, and the loud and unmistakable sound of bone breaking cut through the air. Time seems to freeze, the rhythm of her training shattered by the harsh reality of a misstep, and of her broken bones.
The high def imagery on the screen took over all the wall of monitors that I have in front of me and it transformed into a scene of unexpected vulnerability in apartment 101. Diana, the once graceful dancer, now clutched her injured right ankle, a clear testament to the fragility of the human bones. The echoes of her pain reverberated through all the 32 speakers spread through my penthouse.
The weight of the moment lingered as I heard her voice, strained and filled with anguish. "God...Not again...My ankle," she utters to herself, her words carrying through the virtual channels of our interconnected lives. The whispering within the walls took on a new urgency, the invisible threads of connection extended beyond the confines of the monitors and speakers.
In this twist of fate my anticipated dare became a secondary concern. The sudden injury of Diana, whose dance I've admired from a distance, pulled me back from the brink of my own daring act, from my own broken limb.
As I swiftly pivoted away from my monitors, I clutched my tablet housing the same virtual program that controls my surveillance. With purposeful strides, I kicked off my high heels, the subtle click against the hardwood floor interrupted by a sudden snap as the stiletto heel of my left shoe broke upon contact with the ground.
"Lucky you," The sensual voice says.
"OMG" While I stop and stare at the broken heel of my sexy shoe, signalling not just a physical transition from voyeuristic observer to active participant but also a symbolic shift in my role within this space. My penthouse, once a sanctuary of curiosity, now felt charged with a newfound sense of connection and responsibility and this was mirrored in the unexpected breaking of my stiletto heel.
To my surprise I didn't go to Sarah's apartment but to my bedroom. The mobile version of my monitors in hand, I settle into my bed and recline against the pillows, spreading my legs apart. On my tablet Diana was now gripping her broken ankle in agony.
She struggled to get comfortable, her efforts slowed by the pain in her broken ankle. She rubbed her lower leg cautiously, focusing on her ankle and the sharp throb of pain radiating from it. But at the same time her other hand slid between her legs, each movement seemed to bring a different kind of comfort, and she couldn't stop to please herself sexually. Her fingers rubbed in circles against her vagina as she searched for some sexual relief.
"M1, zoom in on her broken ankle" I asked while I unbuttoned my jeans, I paused for a moment looking at her broken ankle while I smelled the wetness of my vagina. I slid down my jeans and tore my white silk panties off me.
Whispers in the Walls
Part 2 to come
K
Sunday, March 31, 2024
Saturday, March 30, 2024
Friday, March 29, 2024
Whispers in the walls prologue
Whispers in the Walls
Prologue
As I step into the rental property I got from my dad dying, I unveil not just its physical transformation into a very modern building, but also the hidden lives within. Little did I know that my sexual voyeuristic curiosity would lead to unexpected connections.
Well maybe I did know...you may agree when you meet the tenants that I selected.
The front door opens from a face recognition system, revealing a modern haven that was once my father's home and is now mine. The air is crisp, carrying the scent of fresh paint and new beginnings. The walls, once echoing with my father's laughter, now resonate with the anticipation of untold stories, secrets and transformations.
Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Sharon, I'm a 34-year-old AI machine learning engineer who loves to peel back the layers of the ordinary to reveal the extraordinary. I really believe that everybody has sexual secrets that are worth revealing and investigating.
Graduating from MIT as an engineer was a milestone that paved the way for my analytical mind to dive into the complexities of both technology and human nature. I hate to describe myself but I'm a petite woman with short brown hair framing my face, almost legally blind from diabetes, my glasses serve as a gateways to the world around me.
As a single woman, I've embraced a life of independence with various friends with benefits of both sexes and I'm also fuelled by a passion for the finer things in life. I'm full of contradictions, I need and love sexy and expensive clothes and shoes that reflect my confidence and high heels that elevate not just my stature and my spirit even if it also increases the possibilities of injuries.
I totally assume my decisions.
My fascination extends beyond the concrete jungle into the great outdoors. The thrill of rough no services style camping and the challenge of rock climbing offers a stark contrast to my structured, tech-eccentric life. It's in those moments, surrounded by nature's grandeur, that I find balance and harmony between my need to be a modern day independent woman and my need to be alone at peace with myself role-playing or not... injured or not.
Yet, beneath the surface of my seemingly structured life, lies unusual fascinations, some that drive me to appreciate medical and recreational casts on the limbs of pure strangers, men and women navigating the world on crutches. It's clearly a sexual attraction I've kept hidden for years because it clearly walks on a fine line of what is acceptable socially.
In the quiet corners of my mind since I was a very young girl, I found sexual fetishes happiness in crafting short stories that revolve around the very leg braces, casts, crutches and wheelchair that intrigues me. These short stories have been an outlet under various persona, allowing me to explore the delicate dance between vulnerability, strength, lust, sex and breaking my own limb.
In each story I was able to write about the intricate emotions surrounding the beautiful use of crutches, an exploration that satisfied the curious whispers within me without exposing the depths of my unconventional interests to the judgement of my world. Writing became my sanctuary, where crippled legs in braces, casts and crutches could unfold without inhibition.
But the property I inherited from my father changed everything after my renovations. A once-familiar place, I transformed it into a modern building of eight private units, but I gave myself full access through the use of technology. The walls, now full with state-of-the-art gadgets, conceal the secrets of those within, stories waiting to be discovered, by me, for me.
As I walked the halls of my newly shaped sanctuary on my crutches and recreational short leg cast, prior to my guess moving in after the renovation, I felt a magnetic pull towards a new medical injury or a permanent disability. But also a pull for the lives that will be unfolding behind closed doors in almost total secrecy in the near future.
My 2024 technologies, combined with AI will be my companion to understand the whispers of untold stories, and my sexual curiosity and needs will become a key to unlocking the doors to these hidden secrets behind those beautiful, sexy people in their own ways and locked doors.
Compassion. I realized that my accessibility to the secrets of my tenants could be helpful for positive change. Armed with a genuine desire to help them realize some deep fantasies or fetishes of their own, I believe that good will come from understanding and my intervention.
I hope you agree with me that the stage is set where writing will go to a new level, the physical day to day of my tenants, the intricate dance of their lives will be mixed with mine. The whispers in the walls are inviting me to witness, understand, and, perhaps, change the course of physical and emotional destinies yet to unfold.
Hope you join me
Sharon
XOXO
