Tuesday, September 10, 2024

Clip 650 Lovely short leg walking cast with a crutch, SLWC




DYR 98, broken ankle, cast, crutches, SLC





Wheelchair clip 15





Cheer, crutches and love chapter 5

 Cheer, crutches and love

Chapter 5

I stare down at my clumsy and ugly cast, feeling a sense of frustration and humiliation wash over me. It's like I'm living in a completely different body now, one that's slow and awkward and entirely unrecognizable to me.

"Here, let me help you with that," Nick says, his voice full of concern as he reaches out to steady me.

I nod gratefully, feeling a surge of gratitude towards him. "Thanks," I say softly, trying not to let my emotions overwhelm me.

"You're welcome, Hailey. That's what I'm here for."

We fall into an easy silence, the sound of my crutches echoing as I move along confidently on them. Finally, I break the silence.

"So," I begin, trying to sound casual, "how was your day?"

"It was good. Busy, but good. How about you? How are you holding up with this big cast?"

I look down at my cast, feeling the weight of it pull my leg down. "I'm managing, I guess. It's just... frustrating....you know"

He nods sympathetically. "I can only imagine how you must be feeling right now. Athletes, cast and crutches are not a good mix ever"

Our eyes lock, and for a moment, it feels like there's no one else in the world but the two of us. I can feel the sexual tension between us, the electricity that seems to crackle in the air whenever we're together.

"Maybe we could go out to dinner sometime?" I say, trying to keep my voice steady

A slow smile spreads across Nick's face. "I'd love that. Just let me know when you're free, and we can make it happen."

A few days later, as I got ready for dinner with Nick, I felt excitement and nervousness. This was the first time I'd be out in public with my cast without gym sweatpants, and I wanted to look my best despite the circumstances. It was in a way our first official date. I carefully selected a dress that would complement my figure and hide the size and length of my cast as much as possible.

I carefully selected a soft, black dress that made me feel elegant and feminine, far from the image of a tall female athlete. The fabric felt amazing against my skin, hugging my curves in all the right places. The dress fell just above the knee on my good leg, while the other side draped gracefully over my long pink cast, creating a contrast that was both striking and sophisticated.

The deep V-neckline added a little something, and I hoped it would draw attention to my figure rather than my injury. As I smoothed the dress down, I felt a sense of pride in how I looked. I left like a beautiful woman embracing her femininity, not just a strong athlete and future doctor always studying. I slipped a black pump on my good foot, enjoying the balance between strength and vulnerability of a high heel shoe while already broken, ready to face the evening with confidence.

I took extra care with my hair, styling it in loose waves that cascaded over my shoulders. My makeup was a hint of blush to bring out the colour in my cheeks and a swipe of mascara to make my blue eyes pop.

With a deep breath, I reached for my new best friends, adjusting them to fit comfortably under my arms while wearing a high heel shoe. The moment they touched the floor, I realized that I loved that sound. The crutches had become a part of my daily routine, and tonight, I was determined to make the best of it. I tested my balance, making sure I could move gracefully enough not to draw too much attention to my awkward situation of one high heel shoe combined with a full leg cast.

Nick arrived right on time. I heard the doorbell and felt a flutter of anticipation. As I crutched my way to the door, I took one last glance in the hallway mirror, I saw not just a woman with a badly broken ankle but someone strong, poised, and ready for whatever the evening held.

I gave myself a reassuring nod. I could do this. Opening the door, I was greeted by Nick's warm smile. He looked dashing in a crisp button-down shirt and dark pants, his eyes lighting up when he saw me.

"You look absolutely stunning in that lovely dress," Nick said, his gaze lingering on me appreciatively.

His eyes travelled slowly from my face down to the elegant drape of my dress, and then to my long, pink cast. I noticed how his expression shifted slightly, a mix of admiration and something deeper that I couldn't quite identify...It almost felt like... well I shouldn't guess.

He looked at my cast for a moment, as if he was taking in every detail, the way it wrapped around my foot, broken ankle and leg, making it appear delicate along my long leg, yet strong. His gaze then moved to my healthy leg, the one still free and strong, adorned with a high-heeled pump that emphasized all the muscles in my leg.

Nick's eyes flickered back up to meet mine, and I could sense the intensity behind them. There was something in the way he looked at me, something that felt both protective and possessive, as if he was not only looking at me as a woman but also drawn to the vulnerability that the cast and crutches represented. It made me wonder again about those thoughts I had earlier, was there more to his attentiveness than just concern?

The air between us felt sexually charged, I was so attracted to this man for reasons I couldn't quite untangle. I felt a strange mix of insecurity with pure and raw sexual interest, knowing that despite my injury, or perhaps because of it, I was captivating him in a way I hadn't before. As his gaze lingered on my injured ankle, the same ankle he wrapped so delicately in ace bandages. I felt a surge of confidence, realizing that even in this state, I still held a certain power, one that seemed to resonate deeply with him, maybe even a new type of attraction.

"Thank you, you clean up pretty well yourself." I said while realizing for the first time that standing tall my crutches were rubbing against my breasts and it felt...Quite alright...

He stepped closer, his hand naturally moving to rest on my arm and he kissed my cheek.

"Ready to go?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Nick watched me intently as I carefully moved down the steps of my porch on my crutches, his hand always hovering close, ready to assist if I needed it. With each step, I felt the weight of my full leg cast, the thick fibreglass making my leg feel both cumbersome and fragile. It was a strange and new sensation. One moment, I felt like my leg was heavy and awkward, and the next, I was hyper-aware of how vulnerable all the broken bones were beneath the cast and yet he couldn't stop staring at his injured and sexy date.

Navigating the stairs was tricky. I had to take each step slowly, using my crutches to balance and support myself. The unfamiliar motion required concentration; the crutches dug into my palms as all my weight reared on my hands and one leg. I had to trust that my uninjured leg would hold me steady, all while making sure my cast didn't bump or scrape against anything.

When we finally reached his car, Nick quickly opened the passenger door for me. He had already pushed back the seat as far back as it would go, anticipating the extra space I would need. I stood there for a moment, mentally preparing myself for the next challenge of getting into the car.

I positioned my crutches to one side and used them to help lower myself onto the edge of the seat. Then came the difficult part: lifting my casted leg and carefully moving it inside without hitting the door-frame or dashboard. The cast was unyielding, making every small movement deliberate and slow. It was a balancing act between managing the discomfort of my injured ankle and ensuring the cast fit within the car's interior as I finally settled into the seat.

Once inside, I adjusted myself, making sure my leg was supported and comfortable, the cast stretching out in front of me. The seat, pushed back as far as possible, barely accommodated the length of my immobilized leg, but I managed. Nick gently closed the door, and put my crutches in the back seat.

The drive to the restaurant was filled with easy conversation, the kind that flowed naturally between us. I found myself laughing more than I had in weeks, the tension I had been carrying since my injury slowly easing away. When we arrived at the restaurant, Nick parked as close to the entrance as possible. He quickly came around to my side, opening the door and offering his hand to help me out. I accepted gratefully, carefully swinging my casted leg out of the car and planting my good foot on the ground.

Once I was steady on my crutches, Nick walked beside me, his hand occasionally brushing against my arm as we made our way to the entrance. The evening air was cool, and the anticipation of our dinner made my heart flutter. As we reached the door, I paused, turning to Nick with a grateful smile. Leaning in, I gently kissed him on the lips, a soft and lingering gesture that conveyed my appreciation.

"Thank you for your help," I whispered, feeling a warm glow from the connection we shared. As I spoke, I shifted my leg so that my cast brushed against his leg, a gentle and intentional move that didn't go unnoticed. The brief contact of that same ankle he loved to caress and wrap added an extra layer of intimacy, and I saw a flicker of awareness in his eyes, a silent acknowledgement of the bond between us.

But then she came to us...and that...

Cheer, crutches and love
Chapter 6 to come
K


Sunday, September 8, 2024

Clip 648 Running in the forest, broken ankle, cast, crutches, SLC





DYR 89 Broken leg, cast, crutches, SLC





Wheelchair clip 13





OH news lady edit E720p


https://www.youtube.com/@Favoritevideoclips-tc6om/playlists



Cheer, crutches and love chapter 4

 Cheer, crutches and love

Chapter 4

As we stepped onto the field for the final day of cheer camp, I could feel the weight of all the pressure and expectations on my shoulders. My heart was pounding, the adrenaline coursing through my veins, pushing the pain in my sprained ankle to the back of my mind. The energy in the gym was electric, and I was determined to give it everything I had.

We started our routine with precision and grace, each move flowing into the next. The crowd's cheers fuelled my determination, and for a moment, I forgot about the pain, my injury and the possible consequences. But as we approached the more intense stunts, I could feel the strain on my ankle. I pushed through, determined not to let anything at all slow me down so close to the target.

Then, it happened.

As I went up for a particularly difficult tumbling pass, I felt the ligaments in my ankle stretching past the point of no return and tearing. My ankle gave way beneath me. Time seemed to slow as I desperately tried to correct my balance, but it was too late. I landed hard and awkwardly, my right ankle twisting violently as I crumpled to the ground. A sickening crack echoed in my ears, followed by a sharp, searing pain shooting through my ankle and leg. The pain was so intense that everything went black for what felt like five seconds.

When I came to, the world around me was a blur of noise and chaos. My vision cleared, and I realized I was lying on the ground, surrounded by my teammates, their faces pale with shock and fear. The pain in my ankle was excruciating, unlike anything I had ever felt before. It felt like my entire leg was on fire.

"Hailey, don't move," Nick's voice broke through the haze, calm but urgent. I could see the concern etched on his face as he knelt beside me, his hand gently resting on my shoulder.

"Help is on the way." I tried to move, but the pain was too intense, radiating up my leg and into my entire body. I bit back a cry, tears welling in my eyes. The reality of the situation began to sink in. Something was seriously wrong with my leg.

Within moments, I heard the sound of sirens approaching, and the gym floor was soon swarmed by EMTs. They quickly assessed the situation, their faces serious as they carefully cut away my cheer shoe and sock to reveal my swollen, discoloured ankle and lower leg. It was already starting to bruise, and the sight of it made my stomach turn.

"We're going to need to stabilize your leg before we move you," one of the EMTs said, pulling out a splint. I winced as they gently lifted my leg, the pain nearly unbearable. Nick stayed by my side, his hand gripping mine, his presence a small comfort in the midst of the chaos.

"You're doing great, Hailey. Just hang in there," he said, his voice soft but steady. I nodded weakly, trying to focus on his words instead of the pain.

Once my leg was stabilized, the EMTs carefully lifted me onto a stretcher. I could see the worry in my teammates' eyes as they watched, some of them wiping away tears. I wanted to reassure them, tell them I'd be okay, but the pain was overwhelming, stealing my voice.

The ride to the hospital felt like an eternity, every bump in the road sending fresh waves of pain through my leg. Nick rode with me in the ambulance, his expression tense, though he tried to keep me calm with small talk and reassurances. I could barely focus, my mind clouded with fear and pain.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was whisked away to the emergency room. The bright lights and sterile smell of the hospital only heightened my anxiety. Doctors and nurses swarmed around me, asking questions and checking my vitals. Everything was a blur of voices and faces.

"We need to get some X-rays to see the extent of the break," one of the doctors said, and I was quickly wheeled down the hallway to the radiology department.

The X-rays were agonizing. Every movement of my leg sent a jolt of pain through my body, and I had to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out. When it was finally over, I was returned to the ER, where Nick was waiting for me.

"It's going to be okay," he said, his voice soothing. But the look on his face told me he was just as worried as I was. After what felt like hours, the doctor finally returned with the results. Her expression was serious as she looked at me and Nick.

"Hailey, you have a severe fracture in your ankle," he explained. "Both major bones are broken in multiple places, and there's significant ligament damage as well. We're going to need to cast your full leg to keep it stable, but you may also need surgery. Time will tell"

The words hit me like a ton of bricks...broken bones... Surgery....cast... I hadn't expected it to be this bad. The reality of my situation sank in. My season was over. My chances of getting back on the mat anytime soon if ever were shattered.

Nick squeezed my hand, his expression filled with empathy. "You're strong, Hailey. You'll get through this." I wasn't strong and wasn't sure about anything.

The doctor explained the casting procedure, and before long, a nurse arrived with the supplies. They carefully positioned my leg, and I winced as they began to wrap it in soft padding, followed by the hard pink fibreglass shell that would become my cast. The whole process took about an hour, though it felt much longer with the pain pulsing through my broken leg.

When they were done, my leg was in a very long and heavy pink cast that covered my whole leg completely from mid foot. The sight of it was surreal. It felt like a prison for my leg, a constant reminder of the injury that had brought me down. A real nightmare since a small ace bandage on my ankle was one thing but this huge and heavy cast...well...A real pain..

The doctor returned, explaining the importance of keeping weight 100% off my leg and the need for crutches. He also scheduled a follow-up appointment to discuss the possibility or need of surgery once the swelling went down.

As I was wheeled out of the ER, Nick was right there with me, holding my hand. The shock of everything that had happened was still sinking in, but I was grateful not to be alone.

"I'm here for you, we'll get through this together."

I nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me, but also the comfort of Nick's support. The road to recovery was going to be long and difficult, but I knew with him by my side, I could face whatever came next except a long period in a cast. I hated leg casts or casts of any kind to be honest, clearly remembering my broken arm in grade 6.

Later on that evening as I lay down on my bed, staring at the long pink cast, I couldn't help but feel vulnerable and exposed. My usually beautiful, toned and athletic leg was now hidden beneath the thick fibreglass, rendering it almost unrecognizable.

"Hailey, you look beautiful as always," Nick said, standing in the doorway of my room. He had come to check on me and see how I was adjusting to life with a cast. My crutches beside my bed against the wall.

"I know this must be tough for you, but I'm right here with you, every step of the way."

"I know, Nick, It's just... I feel so insecure about myself right now without cheerleading for the first time in my whole life. Like I'm broken or something." I said rubbing my pink cast.

"You're not broken, it's just your leg, you're strong, and you're going to get through this. I promise you that."

"Okay, you're right. I just need to focus on my recovery and getting back on my feet again. Let's admit this for some fetishist I would be a top prize ha ha"

"That's the spirit, now, starting tomorrow let's get started on your physical therapy exercises. We need to make sure that your leg muscles don't atrophy while you're in this cast. You need to be mobile starting tomorrow on your crutches even if the pain will be bad."

As Nick stood in the doorway, offering his comforting words, a thought suddenly crossed my mind. Could Nick be... into this, could he be a fetishist? The way he was so attentive, so eager to help, even when it came to something as simple as wrapping my injured ankle with bandages, it felt like more than just concern.

The way he looked at me, especially when I was vulnerable and in pain, seemed to carry an intensity that I couldn't quite place. And then, there was the way I felt when he did it, the careful wrapping, the gentle touch. A part of me enjoyed the attention, the feeling of being cared for so intimately. Did that make me just as strange?

Was there something wrong with finding comfort, maybe even pleasure, in the way he cared for my then sprained ankle?

I shook the thought away, trying to focus on what he was saying, but the idea lingered in the back of my mind, nagging at me. Could this be some kind of fetish for him... or even for me?

The thought lingered, as I lay there, staring at my long cast, feeling more exposed than ever.

Cheer, crutches and love
Chapter 5 to come