Sunday, April 7, 2024
Saturday, April 6, 2024
Friday, April 5, 2024
Whispers in the walls part 3
Whispers in the walls
Part 3
While I knew this might not be a traditionally acceptable kink, I felt that if you close your eyes and imagine my sexy ballerina in a short leg cast, on her crutches walking towards you, you would....
As the days went on, and I saw Diana slowly healing from her broken ankle, my obsession with her cast increased. My sexual attraction to her was obvious and over the years I had accepted it as a unique type of attraction that I didn't need to share with others or shared with very few people.
My sexual fetish, my obsession started to shift, I began to feel a growing urge physically that I had expressed in stories some years ago under a persona called Brigitte Wallin. The voyeurism I had previously practised was no longer totally satisfying my sexual and fetish needs. I wanted more than simply observing the beauty of a man or a woman in a cast or leg brace or on crutches. I wanted to take action, to play some sort of part in their injuries.
I wondered if my desires were something that you should explore or totally suppress. Some would say I was saved by the bell, but the reality was that Monitor 7 saved me. Beautiful Miss Ally.
"Monitors, full wall on M7"
What a sight she was, my beautiful virtual lover named Ally. Her long leg brace commanded most of my attention and the image of her crippled leg aroused me. I decided to focus on observing her. I shifted my focus from Diana for now, knowing I would return to her story soon. I still had one monitor on Jake, oh yes Jake or Jackie with her lovely long leg pleading to be broken for so many years... but that was for later.
I first met Ally on Wattpad, she commented on my stories and we became friends with some benefits. She was a beautiful and caring woman that navigated her life with a permanent leg brace on her crippled leg. Observing her routines, I became entangled in the complexities and total beauty of her world.
Ally's leg brace was modern and stylish. Moulded from a cast applied to her leg It was a hard plastic device that fit snugly around her leg and foot, secured in place by Velcro straps. Two metal uprights extended from around her ankle, running the full length of her leg, with drop locks on both sides of her knee, ensuring her leg remained locked straight when she walked.
As I waited for Ally's arrival, I turned my attention to the monitors displaying live feeds from Diana's and Jake/Jackie's units. On Diana's monitor, I observed her gracefully moving about her unit on her crutches, her right leg in her cast. Despite her injury, she insisted on training her upper body for strength. The contrast between her delicate and strong movements and the cast protecting her broken ankle was a very attractive sight.
Moving to monitor 302, Jake/Jackie's monitor, I was greeted by a scene that caught me by surprise. Jackie was elegantly sliding on a pair of black pantyhose, the smooth fabric accentuating the contours of her strong legs. Her movements were graceful and confident. I wasn't sure how far her transgender transition was but I couldn't wait to explore her untold stories and other fetishes of his that were becoming hers.
I patiently awaited Ally's arrival, curious to witness her transition from the virtual world of comments on Wattpad to the physical reality of my penthouse.
To the sound of footsteps, I turned my attention to the monitors, eager to catch a glimpse of her as she made her way up to my penthouse. The cameras positioned strategically throughout the building captured her every step, offering me a voyeuristic glimpse of her beautiful limping, swinging her long and lock leg brace in an arc until it was lined up with her healthy leg, over and over.
As she entered my penthouse she stopped dead in her tracks leaning on her cane smiling, her gaze immediately fell upon my wall of monitors, each screen displaying a different perspective of the building. The curiosity in her eyes scared me at first but then she mirrored my own as she took in the technological AI controlled wall of monitors before her.
"Welcome, Ally," I greeted her with a warm smile, gesturing towards the monitors. "I'm glad you could make it. Please, have a seat."
Ally settled into the comfortable chair, her movements somewhat constrained by her sexy crippled leg, the locked brace and the cane she used for support. I couldn't help but marvel at the slight struggle and the challenges she faced daily.
"This is incredible," she remarked, her voice filled with awe as she unlocked her knee loudly and bent her leg carefully. "I never imagined such advanced surveillance technology in this older building."
I nodded, a hint of pride in my tone. "It's one of the many upgrades I've implemented in the building. It allows me to... well... ensure the safety and well-being of all my tenants."
Ally smiled and shared snippets of her life and experiences navigating the world with a leg brace and cane. Her life was so intriguing and interesting to me...even if we had already shared all these before, but in writing.
"I've always been fascinated by technology and how it can enhance our lives," Ally admitted, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "But being here, seeing it in action" She grabbed her cane and stood locking her knee. "It's truly remarkable Sharon but it could be used for so much more. Are you using this to spy on me and others?"
Ally leaned close to me, her gaze fixed on mine, her hard brace against my leg. In that moment our eyes connected and I could feel the sexual attraction between us. I could feel the heat of her minty breath on my face, and I knew this was the moment to make a move. Slowly, I leaned in closer until our lips touched gently, and suddenly we were both entangled in a passionate kiss.
Ally's available hand slowly traced my face, her fingers rubbing my cheeks. Then she caressed my breast and hard nipple, rubbing over and over, pinching. I opened my eyes and looked into her eyes, taking in the moment and the intensity of her touch. Then, she pulled away slightly, still looking into my eyes.
She smiled, "After reading all your stories, I have two requests..." she whispered, her voice raspy and oh so sensual.
She saw me smile, and her own smile widened even more. She leaned in closer to me, and her long braced leg slid between my legs... up my legs.
"So, are you up for a very sensual and erotic Dare Sharon?" she whispered, her eyes full of sexual desire.
"Ohhh yessss" I took a hold of her crippled leg between my legs and literally rubbed against it. Since she was taller than me the effect was amazing on my vagina. She smiled but continued...
"I want to role-play the car dealership scene from David Cronenberg, Crash in a local BMW dealership, and I also want you to wear a short leg cast and use crutches when we go to the dealership. Can you do that for me? Can you do that for us?"
I could feel her desire growing and spreading through my own body. "Of course I can." I replied, my own voice laced with desire as well.
"I'm up for the Dare. It'll be fun to role-play that scene, and to be on crutches in a cast wow. I'll do anything you want."
"Anything I want?" She asked...
Whispers in the walls
Part 4 to come
K
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