Monday, September 14, 2009
BLOG - so how do I make money?
So does anyone out there think it's possible for me to make money doing this writing thing? Any place that buys erotic fiction for the disabled....? Just curious.
STORY - Phantom Pain
The accident shouldn't have been that bad. I mean, it was bad - industrial accidents tend to be bad in general - but it wasn't THAT bad. An industrial laundry cart had broken free of the chain that was pulling it and it slid out of control, right into me. I saw it coming and dove out of the way, just not quite far enough.
I never blacked out. I saw the half-ton cart slam into my lower legs and feet, shattering every bone from my ankles down in spite of my required steel toes work boots. I was in shock initially, of course - seeing your feet crushed in front of you can do that to a girl - but after a couple minutes the pain started to bleed in. I had stopped looking at my feet - or what was left of them - at that point. I didn't need to see them to know they were destroyed. Words like 'amputation' hovered at the periphery of my thoughts, but I wouldn't let them in.
By the time the paramedics were there, starting to cut my boots off, the pain was beyond bearable, and they knocked me out. I fell into immediate and blissful unconsciousness, but my last conscious thoughts were a silent 'good bye' to my feet. I just knew... but I didn't really know. Not just yet.
I woke up four days later, an oxygen feed in my nose and my legs elevated and bandaged - I could see immediately there were no feet there. It was hard to tell the specifics with the heavy bandages on, but it looked like my legs ended two or three inches above my former ankles. The first thing that hit me was the harsh slap of reality, that I was now an amputee, that I had no feet any more. the next thing that hit me, in rapid succession, was the itch. I had an itch between my first and second toe on my left foot. But I had no left foot. I looked, I stared, seeing if there was something I was missing, but my legs definitely ended in round, heavily bandaged stumps. The itch I felt was impossible, but very real and very persistent. I decided to go with it and tried to 'wiggle my toes' to try and get it to stop.
My scream pulled in three nurses, the floor doctor, and another doctor who heard me from the elevator. The pain was intense, sharp, like my foot was being broken and crushed all over again, in slow motion. I cried and tried to claw at my bandages to relieve the pain, to the point where I had to be physically restrained. the gave me a shot of something, but it didn't help, the pain was too intense. They gave me another shot, directly into my stump, saying it was just 'phantom pain' and that it wasn't really there, but still I screamed and cried. Finally, someone gave me something that knocked me out, and again I was blissfully unconscious.
It was severe, chronic phantom pain, that how it was explained to me, and it should 'get better with time' and with therapy. Until then, they had me on a cocktail of painkillers and muscle relaxers that made me loopy and sick to my stomach and had the lovely side effect of making me piss myself once in a while. I was barely coherent when they took my bandages off and I saw my stumps for the first time. I thought they looked pretty - but then again, I was pretty stoned. Even through my haze of painkillers, though, as they touched and cleaned and measured my stumps the white hot pain started bubbling up to the surface of my consciousness. By the time they got the new, thinner bandages onto my rounded stumps I was hyperventilating, feeling my phantom feet twist and fold and snap and burn. I was crying and begging them to knock me out as I felt the pain building to it's crescendo, and once they got an OK from my doctor, they blessedly obliged.
They fitted me for my prostheses, and again even though I was heavily drugged I barely made it through the process. I didn't know how I was going to walk or wear prostheses if every time anything more than a linen sheet touched my stumps they began to hurt at unbearable levels. I was poked and prodded so much, by every specialist in the hospital and beyond, and the general consensus was still just the generic 'phantom limb pain' or my favorite - 'extreme phantom discomfort'. I had a 'discomfort' in mind for them that involved an aluminum softball bat and a rectal exam...
Weeks went by. Then a month. Rehab started. Still, I was drugged to near unconsciousness and still I was dealing with bouts of pain that literally crippled me. Then I met Cathy. My roommate in rehab, she was a quadriplegic from a cycling accident. She had no sensation from her nipples down. In my painkiller-induced haze, I got the beginnings of an idea - just deaden all those nerves that were misfiring, causing all my phantom pain.
I talked to nurses, doctors, but they all said no, it wasn't possible to just deaden those nerves causing my pain. The technology wasn't advanced enough, it was too dangerous they said. Meanwhile I was becoming a junkie and even the huge doses of painkillers I was already taking weren't really cutting it any more. So what else could I do?
I couldn't find anyone to help me willingly, but as I was about to give up I got a lucky break. Without going into details, I took advantage of a desperately overworked medical intern and a mixup in injectible medications. It hurt like hell, even through the painkillers, but after five minutes I knew it had worked. After the terrified intern helped me off the exam table and back into the heavy hospital wheelchair, I told him I had never seen him, had no idea what had happened, and the next morning would suddenly wake up like this... that was my plan anyway...
Things never go quite as planned, of course. Trying to get back into my bed, I was way off balance, my floppy lifeless stumps just a weird dead weight that made it very difficult for me to maneuver myself. I almost made it into bed when I slipped, hitting the floor with a thud, and one of the nurses came running. It was obvious that I was paralyzed, and as soon as the doctors examined me it was obvious why. There's still an ongoing investigation on how I could have gotten that injection, though I keep telling them I did it myself. The important thing is that I am now pain free and medication free. I can't feel or move a thing from my belly down, of course. I'm incontinent, I have no sexual feeling, and I'll be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of my life. But, I'm not in pain - none at all. And personally, I think that's an OK compromise.
I never blacked out. I saw the half-ton cart slam into my lower legs and feet, shattering every bone from my ankles down in spite of my required steel toes work boots. I was in shock initially, of course - seeing your feet crushed in front of you can do that to a girl - but after a couple minutes the pain started to bleed in. I had stopped looking at my feet - or what was left of them - at that point. I didn't need to see them to know they were destroyed. Words like 'amputation' hovered at the periphery of my thoughts, but I wouldn't let them in.
By the time the paramedics were there, starting to cut my boots off, the pain was beyond bearable, and they knocked me out. I fell into immediate and blissful unconsciousness, but my last conscious thoughts were a silent 'good bye' to my feet. I just knew... but I didn't really know. Not just yet.
I woke up four days later, an oxygen feed in my nose and my legs elevated and bandaged - I could see immediately there were no feet there. It was hard to tell the specifics with the heavy bandages on, but it looked like my legs ended two or three inches above my former ankles. The first thing that hit me was the harsh slap of reality, that I was now an amputee, that I had no feet any more. the next thing that hit me, in rapid succession, was the itch. I had an itch between my first and second toe on my left foot. But I had no left foot. I looked, I stared, seeing if there was something I was missing, but my legs definitely ended in round, heavily bandaged stumps. The itch I felt was impossible, but very real and very persistent. I decided to go with it and tried to 'wiggle my toes' to try and get it to stop.
My scream pulled in three nurses, the floor doctor, and another doctor who heard me from the elevator. The pain was intense, sharp, like my foot was being broken and crushed all over again, in slow motion. I cried and tried to claw at my bandages to relieve the pain, to the point where I had to be physically restrained. the gave me a shot of something, but it didn't help, the pain was too intense. They gave me another shot, directly into my stump, saying it was just 'phantom pain' and that it wasn't really there, but still I screamed and cried. Finally, someone gave me something that knocked me out, and again I was blissfully unconscious.
It was severe, chronic phantom pain, that how it was explained to me, and it should 'get better with time' and with therapy. Until then, they had me on a cocktail of painkillers and muscle relaxers that made me loopy and sick to my stomach and had the lovely side effect of making me piss myself once in a while. I was barely coherent when they took my bandages off and I saw my stumps for the first time. I thought they looked pretty - but then again, I was pretty stoned. Even through my haze of painkillers, though, as they touched and cleaned and measured my stumps the white hot pain started bubbling up to the surface of my consciousness. By the time they got the new, thinner bandages onto my rounded stumps I was hyperventilating, feeling my phantom feet twist and fold and snap and burn. I was crying and begging them to knock me out as I felt the pain building to it's crescendo, and once they got an OK from my doctor, they blessedly obliged.
They fitted me for my prostheses, and again even though I was heavily drugged I barely made it through the process. I didn't know how I was going to walk or wear prostheses if every time anything more than a linen sheet touched my stumps they began to hurt at unbearable levels. I was poked and prodded so much, by every specialist in the hospital and beyond, and the general consensus was still just the generic 'phantom limb pain' or my favorite - 'extreme phantom discomfort'. I had a 'discomfort' in mind for them that involved an aluminum softball bat and a rectal exam...
Weeks went by. Then a month. Rehab started. Still, I was drugged to near unconsciousness and still I was dealing with bouts of pain that literally crippled me. Then I met Cathy. My roommate in rehab, she was a quadriplegic from a cycling accident. She had no sensation from her nipples down. In my painkiller-induced haze, I got the beginnings of an idea - just deaden all those nerves that were misfiring, causing all my phantom pain.
I talked to nurses, doctors, but they all said no, it wasn't possible to just deaden those nerves causing my pain. The technology wasn't advanced enough, it was too dangerous they said. Meanwhile I was becoming a junkie and even the huge doses of painkillers I was already taking weren't really cutting it any more. So what else could I do?
I couldn't find anyone to help me willingly, but as I was about to give up I got a lucky break. Without going into details, I took advantage of a desperately overworked medical intern and a mixup in injectible medications. It hurt like hell, even through the painkillers, but after five minutes I knew it had worked. After the terrified intern helped me off the exam table and back into the heavy hospital wheelchair, I told him I had never seen him, had no idea what had happened, and the next morning would suddenly wake up like this... that was my plan anyway...
Things never go quite as planned, of course. Trying to get back into my bed, I was way off balance, my floppy lifeless stumps just a weird dead weight that made it very difficult for me to maneuver myself. I almost made it into bed when I slipped, hitting the floor with a thud, and one of the nurses came running. It was obvious that I was paralyzed, and as soon as the doctors examined me it was obvious why. There's still an ongoing investigation on how I could have gotten that injection, though I keep telling them I did it myself. The important thing is that I am now pain free and medication free. I can't feel or move a thing from my belly down, of course. I'm incontinent, I have no sexual feeling, and I'll be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of my life. But, I'm not in pain - none at all. And personally, I think that's an OK compromise.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
STORY - New Arrangement Part 4
A New Arrangement - Part 4
Michelle, guided by her sexy 'slave' Melissa, spent the next several hours staring at the computer screen, exploring the various worlds of the BD/SM scene. The levels and depths of this world amazed and excited her. Her first and only 'kinky' sexual encounter, with her husband Derek, had left her a quadriplegic, confined to her power wheelchair for the rest of her life, but it had also awakened feelings and desires in her that she never really knew existed. Feelings and appetites she was still trying to get used to.
Melissa was her dutiful slave girl, a fact that turned Michelle on more than she cared to admit. Anything Michelle wanted, no matter how menial or degrading, Melissa would do it instantly, happily. From changing her diapers to kissing her feet to getting her a drink, Melissa would jump to it, always with a smile, always with a 'Yes Mistress'.
Michelle saw websites about extreme bondage, spanking, latex, foot worship, leather, blood play, violet wands, costume play, and so many other things. Some turned her on to a huge degree, others did not, some even bothered and disturned her. Melissa even showed her a few sites that focused on women with disabilities, something that didn't surprise her nearly as much as she thought it should, but given Dereks' confessions to her and the rather extreme route he took to make his fantasy for a helplessly disabled wife come true she supposed it was natural that he wasn't the only person with that interest.
After several hours of exploring the various BD/SM subcultures with Melissa, a woman she now identified with as her submissive, her 'slave', Michelle began to feel not only aroused, but for the first time in her life she began to feel empowered. Yes, she was a complete quadriplegic, paralyzed from her neck down and confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life, but with Melissa, there was something more, something stirring deep within her.
"Slave." she said, sounding much more calm than her rapidly beating heart would indicate. Melissa stopped everything and looked at her.
"Yes Mistress?" she said eagerly.
"Sit on my lap, facing me."
"Yes Mistress." Melissa said, her breath quickening. She carefully straddled Michelle's limp legs and wheelchair, spreading her own legs wide and balancing so that she was facing Michelle, her naked breasts almost even with Michelle's mouth.
"Now, start playing with my hair. Gently, softly." Michelle said. Melissa complied, running her fingers through Michelle's hair, breathing heavy. Her fingers traced though Michelle's hair with purpose, tracing sensual lines over Michelle's sensitive scalp. Brushing against Michelle's ears made her heart beat quicker, made her cheeks flush.
"Harder." she breathed, and felt Melissa immediately start to tug at her hair, run her nails through it, across her scalp. Michelle was breathing fast now, heavy, excited, incredibly aroused. She panted half-commands to Melissa and her slave obeyed, until Michelle was on the verge of orgasm, her quadriplegic body reacting in the only ways it could to the intense erotic stimulation.
"Closer." Michelle panted, until her mouth was just about reaching Melissa's breasts. Michelle moved her head forward an inch and began to kiss and lick Melissa's breasts. Melissa moaned and shivered a bit, but continued pulling at Michelle's hair and playing with her neck and ears and face. Michelle was driven to ecstasy and continued kissing and licking and sucking all the sensitive parts of her slave that she could reach.
Michelle tried to hold out but finally let out a loud gasp and shriek of pleasure as the 'quadgasm' ripped through her. She panted and tried to finish playing with Melissa's breasts, but she couldn't manage it - the orgasm and arousal had caused her to lose what little control of her body she had left.
Melissa didn't say anything, she just stroked Michelle's hair gently as she got off her lap. "May I kiss Mistress?" she asked, and Michelle nodded, smiling and still breathing heavily. Melissa kissed her on the cheek, then held her head and kissed her deeply on the lips. The two women kissed deeply, passionately, tongues probing hot and moist, until finally the embrace was broken. Melissa knelt before her quadriplegic mistress and lay her head on Michelle's paralyzed lap, sighing deeply.
"I love you Mistress." she said softly. Michelle didn't reply.
"Please get dressed in your proper uniform." Michelle said an hour later. Derek would be home in a little over an hour, and she wasn't ready to let him know about any of this.
"As you wish Mistress." was Melissa's reply. "Is there anything else Mistress woud like?" she asked hopefully, eyes wide. Michelle wasn't sure what she meant, but then remembered from the websites that a Mistress would force her slave to wear some charm or token that indicated ownership, dominance. Michelle didn't have anything like that, but she did have....
"Under your uniform, you are to wear one of my bulky overnight diapers." she said finally. Melissa smiled broadly. "And you are not to urinate in the toilet, only your diaper, and you will ask my permission before changing it."
"Of course Mistress." Melissa said, her eyes full of desire. "As you wish, my love."
Derek got home to find his quadriplegic wife sitting in her wheelchair watching a DVD and Melissa, her aide, preparing dinner. Michelle was dressed very sexy - stockings and a short skirt, no shoes, and Derek could tell she wore a padded diaper just for him. He kissed her warmly on the cheek, but her eyes wanted more, so he kissed her on the lips and was greeted by a deeply passionate kiss that lasted much longer than he was accustomed to.
"I need my diaper changed." she said into his ear as she took her mouth control between her lips and drove out of the living room and down the wide hallway. Derek followed excitedly. Melissa didn't even look up from her work, but she had a smile on her face and felt arousal as she urinated into her diaper.
Derek was undressed before the door was fully shut, and Michelle's mouth was reaching greedily for his cock. She was still so aroused from her day with Melissa, exploring her newfound power, that she just wanted more. Derek slipped his rock hard cock into her waiting mouth and grabbed her by the hair, gripping firmly and nearly making her cum right then and there. He took control then, pushing and pulling her head as she sucked and licked his white hot shaft.
It only took a few minutes and Michelle felt Derek go rigid, then he shot cum into her mouth, down her throat in hot spurts. He moaned loudly and released her hair from his grasp, and her head plopped back onto her plush headrest. Derek had her out of the wheelchair and onto the king sized bed in no time, and was spreading Melissa's limp legs as she watched, panting and wanting so badly to reach out, to grab his hard cock in her hands, to run her fingers through his hair... But she lay there, her body not obeying a single command, and somehow she was more aroused because of that.
As an able bodied woman her sex life was lackluster at best. Now that she was crippled, confined to a wheelchair, she had two amazing lovers and a newfound sexual identity she had never even guessed at...
Derek was inside her now, holding one of her floppy legs up, cradled under her knee. He thrust his hard cock in and out of her, eyes closed, and she whispered him on, told him how sexy he was, how strong he was, how safe she felt with him. It was when she started talking about her disability, her lack of sensation,lack of movement, that his breath and his pace quickened, and soon he was cuming again, thrusting deeply into her numb sex and crying out, back arched, sweat beading up on his muscular shoulders.
He collapsed beside her, panting, moaning with pleasure. She lay there, unable to move, just listening to him breathing. She wasn't done - she wanted more. She wanted to feel those strong hands caressing her face, her neck, running through her hair. She waited for his breathing to subside a bit.
"Derek." she said, a sultry whisper.
"Yes lover?" he replied, rolling his head to look at her.
"I want.." she started, but he smiled. Reached up and started stroking her head, running his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes and moaned softly. She didn't open them again until after she was wracked with a deep, wonderful orgasm, moaning her satisfaction.
Michelle wheeled into the dining room, Derek having dressed her in a short skirt and t-shirt with knee socks and slippers. Before he arrived, Melissa walked over to her with the appearance of helping her park at the table, but whispered 'May I change my diaper, Mistress?". Michelle nodded with a smile, then added "You may not masturbate. Just change your diaper. Understood?" A combination of excitement and disappointment crossed her slaves face, and Michelle quickly added "I'll take care of that for you, soon." Melissa headed happily to the lavatory to change.
Dinner was a wonderful affair, with Derek happily feeding Michelle chicken and pasta and wine, wiping her chin when he needed to. Melissa was there serving, but stayed out of the way. There was a happiness on her face as well, Michelle thought, just being part of this bizarre little 'family'.
After dinner, Michelle decided that she wanted to watch a movie. Derek set it up for her, but then instead of sitting to watch with her, he headed into the kitchen with his briefcase. He talked to Melissa for a solid fifteen or twenty minutes, then returned to watch the movie. Michelle was curious, and a little concerned, though she didn't know whether she'd feel jealousy towards Derek or Melissa at this point.
"What was all that?" she asked, the fear creeping into her voice.
"What - with Melissa? Just some contracts love, for being a full time live-in caregiver. Didn't I tell you she'd be staying here?"
"Staying where - here in the house?" Michelle said, her eyes wide.
"Yes - to help care for you, just until I'm able to quit my job completely. I hope that's OK? I'm sorry if I didn't..."
"Oh no, it's fine. Wonderful in fact. I'm glad she'll be here - just in case, you know? It makes me feel more..." 'Horny' was what she wanted to say, but 'confident' is what ended up coming out...
Bedtime came far too quickly, but after he got her ready for bed and lay her on her pillows, he began playing with her hair and kissing her neck and cheeks and ears, getting her very excited, all worked up. He stroked her hair, then began gentle pulling and playful tugging, slowly and sensually building it up. finally he was pulling her hair, tugging at it, and kissing her full on the lips, his hot tongue probing her mouth erotically. she came again, loud and strong - at least as strong as a quadriplegic orgasm could be. It felt strong to her, that was what mattered.
When he was sure she was done and satisfied, Derek repositioned her body for her, then took her limp feet in his hands. She watched him rubbing his cock with her soft, limp feet, jerking himself off slowly, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation her crippled feet were providing. His pace picked up and Michelle's legs wobbled with the effort, until finally he came again, shooting hot warm cum all over her useless feet. He collapsed to the bed, breathing heavy, and went to clean off her feet.
"No, don't..." she said, causing him to stop reaching for the washcloth. "I want to keep it on there. Can you help me lick it off?"
Derek obliged gladly, gently taking Michelle's limp leg and flexing it carefully so that she could lick the salty-sweet semen off her own limp foot. She did so greedily, then Derek put her foot back down and tucked her in. Sleep came soon after.
Michelle, guided by her sexy 'slave' Melissa, spent the next several hours staring at the computer screen, exploring the various worlds of the BD/SM scene. The levels and depths of this world amazed and excited her. Her first and only 'kinky' sexual encounter, with her husband Derek, had left her a quadriplegic, confined to her power wheelchair for the rest of her life, but it had also awakened feelings and desires in her that she never really knew existed. Feelings and appetites she was still trying to get used to.
Melissa was her dutiful slave girl, a fact that turned Michelle on more than she cared to admit. Anything Michelle wanted, no matter how menial or degrading, Melissa would do it instantly, happily. From changing her diapers to kissing her feet to getting her a drink, Melissa would jump to it, always with a smile, always with a 'Yes Mistress'.
Michelle saw websites about extreme bondage, spanking, latex, foot worship, leather, blood play, violet wands, costume play, and so many other things. Some turned her on to a huge degree, others did not, some even bothered and disturned her. Melissa even showed her a few sites that focused on women with disabilities, something that didn't surprise her nearly as much as she thought it should, but given Dereks' confessions to her and the rather extreme route he took to make his fantasy for a helplessly disabled wife come true she supposed it was natural that he wasn't the only person with that interest.
After several hours of exploring the various BD/SM subcultures with Melissa, a woman she now identified with as her submissive, her 'slave', Michelle began to feel not only aroused, but for the first time in her life she began to feel empowered. Yes, she was a complete quadriplegic, paralyzed from her neck down and confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life, but with Melissa, there was something more, something stirring deep within her.
"Slave." she said, sounding much more calm than her rapidly beating heart would indicate. Melissa stopped everything and looked at her.
"Yes Mistress?" she said eagerly.
"Sit on my lap, facing me."
"Yes Mistress." Melissa said, her breath quickening. She carefully straddled Michelle's limp legs and wheelchair, spreading her own legs wide and balancing so that she was facing Michelle, her naked breasts almost even with Michelle's mouth.
"Now, start playing with my hair. Gently, softly." Michelle said. Melissa complied, running her fingers through Michelle's hair, breathing heavy. Her fingers traced though Michelle's hair with purpose, tracing sensual lines over Michelle's sensitive scalp. Brushing against Michelle's ears made her heart beat quicker, made her cheeks flush.
"Harder." she breathed, and felt Melissa immediately start to tug at her hair, run her nails through it, across her scalp. Michelle was breathing fast now, heavy, excited, incredibly aroused. She panted half-commands to Melissa and her slave obeyed, until Michelle was on the verge of orgasm, her quadriplegic body reacting in the only ways it could to the intense erotic stimulation.
"Closer." Michelle panted, until her mouth was just about reaching Melissa's breasts. Michelle moved her head forward an inch and began to kiss and lick Melissa's breasts. Melissa moaned and shivered a bit, but continued pulling at Michelle's hair and playing with her neck and ears and face. Michelle was driven to ecstasy and continued kissing and licking and sucking all the sensitive parts of her slave that she could reach.
Michelle tried to hold out but finally let out a loud gasp and shriek of pleasure as the 'quadgasm' ripped through her. She panted and tried to finish playing with Melissa's breasts, but she couldn't manage it - the orgasm and arousal had caused her to lose what little control of her body she had left.
Melissa didn't say anything, she just stroked Michelle's hair gently as she got off her lap. "May I kiss Mistress?" she asked, and Michelle nodded, smiling and still breathing heavily. Melissa kissed her on the cheek, then held her head and kissed her deeply on the lips. The two women kissed deeply, passionately, tongues probing hot and moist, until finally the embrace was broken. Melissa knelt before her quadriplegic mistress and lay her head on Michelle's paralyzed lap, sighing deeply.
"I love you Mistress." she said softly. Michelle didn't reply.
"Please get dressed in your proper uniform." Michelle said an hour later. Derek would be home in a little over an hour, and she wasn't ready to let him know about any of this.
"As you wish Mistress." was Melissa's reply. "Is there anything else Mistress woud like?" she asked hopefully, eyes wide. Michelle wasn't sure what she meant, but then remembered from the websites that a Mistress would force her slave to wear some charm or token that indicated ownership, dominance. Michelle didn't have anything like that, but she did have....
"Under your uniform, you are to wear one of my bulky overnight diapers." she said finally. Melissa smiled broadly. "And you are not to urinate in the toilet, only your diaper, and you will ask my permission before changing it."
"Of course Mistress." Melissa said, her eyes full of desire. "As you wish, my love."
Derek got home to find his quadriplegic wife sitting in her wheelchair watching a DVD and Melissa, her aide, preparing dinner. Michelle was dressed very sexy - stockings and a short skirt, no shoes, and Derek could tell she wore a padded diaper just for him. He kissed her warmly on the cheek, but her eyes wanted more, so he kissed her on the lips and was greeted by a deeply passionate kiss that lasted much longer than he was accustomed to.
"I need my diaper changed." she said into his ear as she took her mouth control between her lips and drove out of the living room and down the wide hallway. Derek followed excitedly. Melissa didn't even look up from her work, but she had a smile on her face and felt arousal as she urinated into her diaper.
Derek was undressed before the door was fully shut, and Michelle's mouth was reaching greedily for his cock. She was still so aroused from her day with Melissa, exploring her newfound power, that she just wanted more. Derek slipped his rock hard cock into her waiting mouth and grabbed her by the hair, gripping firmly and nearly making her cum right then and there. He took control then, pushing and pulling her head as she sucked and licked his white hot shaft.
It only took a few minutes and Michelle felt Derek go rigid, then he shot cum into her mouth, down her throat in hot spurts. He moaned loudly and released her hair from his grasp, and her head plopped back onto her plush headrest. Derek had her out of the wheelchair and onto the king sized bed in no time, and was spreading Melissa's limp legs as she watched, panting and wanting so badly to reach out, to grab his hard cock in her hands, to run her fingers through his hair... But she lay there, her body not obeying a single command, and somehow she was more aroused because of that.
As an able bodied woman her sex life was lackluster at best. Now that she was crippled, confined to a wheelchair, she had two amazing lovers and a newfound sexual identity she had never even guessed at...
Derek was inside her now, holding one of her floppy legs up, cradled under her knee. He thrust his hard cock in and out of her, eyes closed, and she whispered him on, told him how sexy he was, how strong he was, how safe she felt with him. It was when she started talking about her disability, her lack of sensation,lack of movement, that his breath and his pace quickened, and soon he was cuming again, thrusting deeply into her numb sex and crying out, back arched, sweat beading up on his muscular shoulders.
He collapsed beside her, panting, moaning with pleasure. She lay there, unable to move, just listening to him breathing. She wasn't done - she wanted more. She wanted to feel those strong hands caressing her face, her neck, running through her hair. She waited for his breathing to subside a bit.
"Derek." she said, a sultry whisper.
"Yes lover?" he replied, rolling his head to look at her.
"I want.." she started, but he smiled. Reached up and started stroking her head, running his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes and moaned softly. She didn't open them again until after she was wracked with a deep, wonderful orgasm, moaning her satisfaction.
Michelle wheeled into the dining room, Derek having dressed her in a short skirt and t-shirt with knee socks and slippers. Before he arrived, Melissa walked over to her with the appearance of helping her park at the table, but whispered 'May I change my diaper, Mistress?". Michelle nodded with a smile, then added "You may not masturbate. Just change your diaper. Understood?" A combination of excitement and disappointment crossed her slaves face, and Michelle quickly added "I'll take care of that for you, soon." Melissa headed happily to the lavatory to change.
Dinner was a wonderful affair, with Derek happily feeding Michelle chicken and pasta and wine, wiping her chin when he needed to. Melissa was there serving, but stayed out of the way. There was a happiness on her face as well, Michelle thought, just being part of this bizarre little 'family'.
After dinner, Michelle decided that she wanted to watch a movie. Derek set it up for her, but then instead of sitting to watch with her, he headed into the kitchen with his briefcase. He talked to Melissa for a solid fifteen or twenty minutes, then returned to watch the movie. Michelle was curious, and a little concerned, though she didn't know whether she'd feel jealousy towards Derek or Melissa at this point.
"What was all that?" she asked, the fear creeping into her voice.
"What - with Melissa? Just some contracts love, for being a full time live-in caregiver. Didn't I tell you she'd be staying here?"
"Staying where - here in the house?" Michelle said, her eyes wide.
"Yes - to help care for you, just until I'm able to quit my job completely. I hope that's OK? I'm sorry if I didn't..."
"Oh no, it's fine. Wonderful in fact. I'm glad she'll be here - just in case, you know? It makes me feel more..." 'Horny' was what she wanted to say, but 'confident' is what ended up coming out...
Bedtime came far too quickly, but after he got her ready for bed and lay her on her pillows, he began playing with her hair and kissing her neck and cheeks and ears, getting her very excited, all worked up. He stroked her hair, then began gentle pulling and playful tugging, slowly and sensually building it up. finally he was pulling her hair, tugging at it, and kissing her full on the lips, his hot tongue probing her mouth erotically. she came again, loud and strong - at least as strong as a quadriplegic orgasm could be. It felt strong to her, that was what mattered.
When he was sure she was done and satisfied, Derek repositioned her body for her, then took her limp feet in his hands. She watched him rubbing his cock with her soft, limp feet, jerking himself off slowly, eyes closed, enjoying the sensation her crippled feet were providing. His pace picked up and Michelle's legs wobbled with the effort, until finally he came again, shooting hot warm cum all over her useless feet. He collapsed to the bed, breathing heavy, and went to clean off her feet.
"No, don't..." she said, causing him to stop reaching for the washcloth. "I want to keep it on there. Can you help me lick it off?"
Derek obliged gladly, gently taking Michelle's limp leg and flexing it carefully so that she could lick the salty-sweet semen off her own limp foot. She did so greedily, then Derek put her foot back down and tucked her in. Sleep came soon after.
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