Boys' Night Out By ParaGirl
Jackie answered the door and saw the stack of shipping containers standing next to a man dressed in a brown uniform and holding a clipboard. She signed the shipping document with a shaky hand and the delivery man helped her move the boxes into the living room. The door had barely clicked shut when she locked it and started tearing open the boxes, one at a time.
The first box contained full legbraces, metal and leather and perfectly adjusted for Jackie's legs. There were three pairs of shoes also - black leather shoes, heavy leather boots, and generic looking blue and white tennis shoes - that were all modified to fit securely into the braces. The boots were attached already and Jackie decided those would be OK to start. the box also contained a pair of aluminum forearm crutches, which she adjusted to properly fit her height.
The second box contained a plastic Boston brace that fit her torso snugly and strapped up with five velcro straps.
The final box was the largest and Jackie knew what it must contain - she saved the best for last. She tore open the top of the box, then used the box knife to carefully open the sides as well, so the lightweight custom wheelchair was revealed in a flurry of packing materials and shipping manifests. The wheelchair was dis-assembled, but Jackie soon had the wheels attached and the thick gel cushion fixed to the seat. She slowly sat in the chair and smiled widely as she tested it, wheeling herself a few laps around the large living room. It was perfect!
Soon Jackie was strapping her legs into the long heavy braces, the back brace already locked tightly on her torso and compressing her breasts tightly so that she appeared flat-chested while wearing it. It took her a few tries to get the braces on and the straps tightly fastened, but she felt a thrill as she realized how completely immobile this made her, how crippled she suddenly felt. She stood carefully, balancing on the crutches, and slowly crutched through her apartment with a careful swing-through gait, her braced legs swinging through the crutch uprights, propelling her a foot or so with each laborious step. She went to the kitchen and had a drink of water, then to the bathroom to see her reflection in the tall mirror. She was naked, aside from the heavy braces and a bulky adult diaper, and she shifted side to side, admiring her crippled self.
Soon tired after the hard work of the crutches and braces, Jackie sat slowly and heavily in her new wheelchair. She lifted her legs with her hands, grabbing the braces and pulling her feet up onto the footrests, then unlocked the wheels and began wheeling around the apartment again, this time straightening up and cleaning, doing a few simple chores, learning how to live like a paralyzed girl. She never used her legs, never moved them at all, other than with her hands. It made her hot, excited to think of it.
Jackie was feeling more and more aroused as her day of paralyzed exploration rolled on. A particularly hard struggle to reach a box on the counter made her extra horny and, looking at her reflection, she decided she knew what she wanted to do. She wheeled to her bedroom and began to remove her bulky diaper, seeing how aroused she was. She opened a drawer and dug through until she found what she wanted - her jelly dong, a soft pink double ended dildo with the rigidity of a flaccid cock - just what she was looking for. With a little lubrication, she pushed half of the dildo into her aroused sex, letting the other half - over eight inches in length - flop between her braced legs.
Jackie wheeled herself to the bathroom again and sat in front of the mirror as she began to stroke the flaccid pink cock that popped out from between her crippled legs. She used more lube and stroked it up and down, just like a real para cock, jerking it off and feeling no reaction, just soft limp flesh between her legs. She kept going, pumping her cock as she watched in her wheelchair, and became incredibly turned on, seeing her crippled body, the heavy braces, the wheelchair, and yes, especially that limp cock. She was feeling more and more like a crippled boy and, as she masturbated the soft cock she would never feel, she came in a low, intense orgasm that made her moan loudly, closing her eyes. Once she was done, she had a final look, then picked up a pair of scissors. She knows what she wants to do.
Jackie lowered her braced legs off the bed and slowly struggled to stand up, using the bed and her crutches to gain her balance. She slowly moves out of the bedroom to the bathroom, again checking the full length mirror. She wears a tailored men’s shirt, and she is pleased to see that her torso brace gives her a very masculine shape underneath the cotton shirt. The shirt is tucked into a well fitting pair of men’s slacks, slightly oversized to hide the heavy braces and diaper she wears. Her hair is now short, with a part on the side in a very masculine style. She feels the bulge of her flaccid cock inside her diaper, making her feel even more masculine as she looks at the crippled boy staring back at her from the mirror. Only her face still shows the gentle curves of femininity, but just barely, and she knows that will be overlooked by most people she meets.
Finally satisfied, Jackie smiles and crutches out of the bathroom and out of the apartment as a crippled boy, dragging her braced legs behind her, looking for excitement...
Showing posts with label braces. Show all posts
Showing posts with label braces. Show all posts
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
BLOG - Aaaand.. They're gone...
Those amazing AFO braces I saw on eBay? SOLD! Someone must have done the 'Buy it Now' option - seemed like a good deal, coming with free crutches and all. Ah well - I couldn't have afforded them anyway. I guess I could hope and dream that Heather bought them for me in secret and will give them to me as a birthday present :)
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
The Chair - Part 2 - Braces
The Chair 2: Braces By ParaGirl
It all started so innocently. Cindy found the aluminum
forearm crutches and AFO braces at a yard sale, of all places.
She was running a finger down the smooth aluminum when the old
woman running the sale said to her, 'Go ahead, take them.' She
left with the crutches and braces under her arm, and she
couldn't wait to get to her house and try them out.
Cindy had always been interested in crutches, ever since
she was a little girl. Sprained ankles, casts, anything like
that. She thought it was fun, a cool game, and now, at 22, she
still enjoyed wrapping an ankle up and crutching to the mall,
going to work on crutches for a week, etc... When she saw the
braces and forearm crutches, which had always been her favorite
style, she had to have them, so she took them home. She had
never been in braces before, and didn't know what to expect, so
she couldn't wait to find out.
She got her new toys home and looked at them. The crutches
were almost new, aluminum, and obviously high quality. She
looked ath the braces. They were interesting, rigid plastic
molds which came up to her knees, with wide elastic and velcro
bands at the top to hold them firmly. They looked about the
right size for her feet, and she wondered what they would feel
like while she was wearing them.
She quickly undressed, deciding that jeans and a T-shirt
was not the way to start her game, and put on nylons, a
knee-length skirt, and a white short-sleeved blouse. she sat on
her bed, leaning the crutches beside her, and put on the braces.
First, she lifted her right leg into her lap and placed the
plastic brace against it. It was like a perfect fit! She
tightly fastened the strap, which came up to just below her
knee, and then reached for her shoe. She decided to wear low
heeled shoes which laced tightly, to make sure her leg was
braced firmly. It felt very strange, not really like a cast,
which is what she half-expected. She quickly put the other
brace on, fastening her other shoe tightly, and stood up.
Her legs felt strange in the braces, awkward and even
clumsy. She tried to take a step without the crutches and
almost fell. She couldn't even wiggle her toes properly, which
she thought was very odd, because she always could in this pair
of shoes before. Her ankles were also totally immobile in the
stiff braces, which she enjoyed. She looked down and saw her
feet pointed toes-in, pigeoned toed, which looked very strange
to her. She reached and grabbed her crutches, putting her arms
through the cuffs, gripping the handgrips, and began crutching
around her apartment. It was fun, bieng on the crutches,
swinging her legs through the aluminum posts. She cooked dinner
on her crutches, cleaned the kitchen, all sorts of things, and
bieng on the crutches was very entertaining. At last, she sat
down to watch TV and took off her shoes and the braces, and was
shocked by what she saw!
Her feet were crooked, warped, she didn't know how to
explain or describe it, but she couldn't move them either. They
were both palsied, toes curled, ankles bent oddly. She tried to
stand and fell forward, her legs wouldn't support her right. She
put her braces back on and got to her feet by using the couch
and her crutches for support. As she was wondering what to do.
She was nervous and afraid, her legs didn't work anymore, her
feet were crippled, and she had no idea how or why. As she was
crutching to the kitchen again to fix herself a drink, the phone
rang.
"How are the crutches now, Cindy?" a strange voice asked.
"Who are you, what have you done to my legs??" Cindy asked
angrily.
"What you wanted, you need crutches now, don't you?" the
voice asked.
"I hate you, give me my legs back!" Cindy yelled into the
phone.
"That is easily done." the voice continued, calmly. "You
will remain crippled until you go to bed. Upon waking, all you
must do is stand, forsake the braces and crutches, stand and the
spell will be broken. But be warned, there are conseqe-"
"Thats all I needed to know, lady, later" blurted Cindy,
and crashed the receiver down. She crutched back into the
living room, releived that her condition was not permanant, and
raised her legs up onto the couch. She looked at her legs in
the braces. They didn't look so bad, just different. It was an
interesting experience, to be crippled like this, but she
definitely didn't want it to be permanant. She wathced TV for a
few hours then got ready for bed.
In bed, she first took off her shoes and braces, and her
palsied, crippled feet hung there. She hated it, and hurriedly
stripped off her stockings and skirt, then her blouse, and got
uder the covers, falling right to sleep.
Cindy woke with her alarm to see her legs and feet back to
normal. She jumped out of bed and practically ran to the
bathroom. She was fine, she could almost convince herself it
was all a bad dream, except for the braces and crutches now
laying on her bedroom floor. She kicked them under the bed and
showered and dressed, ready to face the day.
Two Weeks Later
"It's a rare neuromuscular disorder, Cindy. I'm afraid
it's not reversible, although I've never seen it attack a person
so quickly." Doctor Solomon said. I can't even recommend a
course of treatment, I'm afraid. The damage will be permanent,
and may even worsen, I'm afraid."
Cindy was in tears. She had come into the hospital four
days ago, complaining about numbness and soreness in her legs,
and here she was today, after a battery of tests... She looked
at her legs, her ankles turned in, her feet palsied. Her legs
weren't working at all, partially numb, totally useless. She
sat in a wheelchair, wondering if she would be confined to it
forever. What was it the voice on the phone had said about
consequences?
"Doctor" Cindy asked, "Honestly, will I ever walk again?"
"No, Cindy, you wont, at least not on your own." Dr.
Solomon replied. "I can have one of our orthopedic specialists
fit you for a set of legbraces, and you should be able to lead a
fairly normal, active life."
"As a cripple." Cindy wept. She wheeled herself back to
her hospital room and tried to get herself back into bed, but
without the use of her legs it was hopeless. With tears in her
eyes she rang the call button.
"Is everything OK Cindy" The nurse asked as she enterd the
room. Cindy was crying in her wheelchair, her legs hanging
awkwardly in her chair.
"My legs..." was all she could cry. The nurse lifted Cindy
into her bed, lifting her legs up for her and putting them under
the covers. The nurse held Cindy and rocked her, trying to
comfort this poor girl who had suddenly lost so much.
After three weeks the therapist decided it was hopeless.
Cindy's legs were bad and slowly getting worse, and even in the
full length legbraces she had it was just too difficult for her
to move around. They really hurt more than they helped,
especially with the extent of muscular damage to her lower legs
and ankles. Cindy was sitting in her new wheelchair, her legs
still encased in the braces she tried so hard to walk on, she
had wanted so badly to walk again, even on the braces, with
crutches or a walker, but now she was told it was hopeless, that
she, at 22 years old, she was a cripple, her legs useless,
confined totally to her wheelchair. She allowed herself to be
pushed back to her room, and her attendany lifted her into her
bed and began to remove her braces. She watched her legs as
they were unwrapped from their metal casings, so pale and thin
now, her feet looking so terrible, toes curled and ankles turned
in. She tried to move them, even wiggle her toes, but she
couldn't even do that anymore. Her legs just lay there,
crippled and lifeless. She looked at her wheelchair, now
realizing it was HER wheelchair, that her life now revolved
around it. She had always liked to be the girl on crutches, and
now she'd never be able to walk on crutches, or anything, ever
again. She lay down and cried herself to sleep once again.
Cindy had been in the wheelchair for several months. She
pulled into the handicapped spot in front of the mall and opened
the car door. She did her usual routine, pulling her wheelchair
from out of the back seat, setting it up, boosting herself into
it from the drivers' seat of her hand-controlled car. She
lifted one leg, then the other into the legrests of the
wheelchair. She still hadn't gotten used to her legs. The
disease had now robbed them of all muscle control, some feeling
too. As she lifted them, she watched her foot hang limp and
twisted by the disease which had put her in a wheelchair for the
rest of her life. She locked the car door and wheeled into the
mall.
Cindy was sitting in the food court when she noticed the
little girl walking by on crutches. The girl was on aluminum
forearm crutches, with AFO braces on her legs, her legs swinging
between the crutches, bringing Cindy memories of that day after
the yard sale. The little girl looked at Cindy, and for some
reason, Cindy felt some connection, but instead of smiling back
at the girl Cindy sneered, angry more at her condition than
anything else, and the girl noticed, turning away quickly and
obviously hurt. Cindy blew it off and wheeled her way into the
bookstore, picking out some reading material for later on.
It had been a year since the disease had confined Cindy to
a wheelchair when she noticed the discoloration on her foot. It
was a week later, after asking her doctor about it, that she
woke up, groggy and confused, from the anesthetic. She sat
halfway up and could see, under the sheets and bandages, where
her legs had been amputated midway between her knees and her
crotch. The disease had apparently caused a loss of circulation
in her legs, and they had to be amputated, to save her life.
Cindy pulled up into the handicapped parking space in front
of the mall and pulled her wheelchair out from the back seat,
setting it up and sliding into it, fixing her skirt around her
nylon-clad stumps. Of course, as she had suspected since they
amputated her legs, she couldn't use prosthetics because of the
muscular damage still in what was left of her legs, so she was
still wheelchair bound. Bieng legless was so strange to her,
but it was at least a little easier than dragging her legs
around with her, even though she now lost balance pretty easy.
Shoes were not a problem anymore, of course, and she always wore
skirts and knee-hi stockings, which to her were thigh-hi's so
she though she looked better now, at least a little. As she
wheeled into the mall, she noticed a little girl on crutches,
with AFO braces, who looked at her and smiled strangely. Cindy
smiled back, not sure why, and wheeled herself into the
bookstore to buy some reading material. She saw another girl in
the bookstore, also in a wheelchair, obviously paralyzed by the
look of her legs, ringing up a couple of books at the register.
The girl looked at Cindy, then glanced down at her stumps,
looking a bit sad.
"Should have listened to the phone call" She said crypticly.
It all started so innocently. Cindy found the aluminum
forearm crutches and AFO braces at a yard sale, of all places.
She was running a finger down the smooth aluminum when the old
woman running the sale said to her, 'Go ahead, take them.' She
left with the crutches and braces under her arm, and she
couldn't wait to get to her house and try them out.
Cindy had always been interested in crutches, ever since
she was a little girl. Sprained ankles, casts, anything like
that. She thought it was fun, a cool game, and now, at 22, she
still enjoyed wrapping an ankle up and crutching to the mall,
going to work on crutches for a week, etc... When she saw the
braces and forearm crutches, which had always been her favorite
style, she had to have them, so she took them home. She had
never been in braces before, and didn't know what to expect, so
she couldn't wait to find out.
She got her new toys home and looked at them. The crutches
were almost new, aluminum, and obviously high quality. She
looked ath the braces. They were interesting, rigid plastic
molds which came up to her knees, with wide elastic and velcro
bands at the top to hold them firmly. They looked about the
right size for her feet, and she wondered what they would feel
like while she was wearing them.
She quickly undressed, deciding that jeans and a T-shirt
was not the way to start her game, and put on nylons, a
knee-length skirt, and a white short-sleeved blouse. she sat on
her bed, leaning the crutches beside her, and put on the braces.
First, she lifted her right leg into her lap and placed the
plastic brace against it. It was like a perfect fit! She
tightly fastened the strap, which came up to just below her
knee, and then reached for her shoe. She decided to wear low
heeled shoes which laced tightly, to make sure her leg was
braced firmly. It felt very strange, not really like a cast,
which is what she half-expected. She quickly put the other
brace on, fastening her other shoe tightly, and stood up.
Her legs felt strange in the braces, awkward and even
clumsy. She tried to take a step without the crutches and
almost fell. She couldn't even wiggle her toes properly, which
she thought was very odd, because she always could in this pair
of shoes before. Her ankles were also totally immobile in the
stiff braces, which she enjoyed. She looked down and saw her
feet pointed toes-in, pigeoned toed, which looked very strange
to her. She reached and grabbed her crutches, putting her arms
through the cuffs, gripping the handgrips, and began crutching
around her apartment. It was fun, bieng on the crutches,
swinging her legs through the aluminum posts. She cooked dinner
on her crutches, cleaned the kitchen, all sorts of things, and
bieng on the crutches was very entertaining. At last, she sat
down to watch TV and took off her shoes and the braces, and was
shocked by what she saw!
Her feet were crooked, warped, she didn't know how to
explain or describe it, but she couldn't move them either. They
were both palsied, toes curled, ankles bent oddly. She tried to
stand and fell forward, her legs wouldn't support her right. She
put her braces back on and got to her feet by using the couch
and her crutches for support. As she was wondering what to do.
She was nervous and afraid, her legs didn't work anymore, her
feet were crippled, and she had no idea how or why. As she was
crutching to the kitchen again to fix herself a drink, the phone
rang.
"How are the crutches now, Cindy?" a strange voice asked.
"Who are you, what have you done to my legs??" Cindy asked
angrily.
"What you wanted, you need crutches now, don't you?" the
voice asked.
"I hate you, give me my legs back!" Cindy yelled into the
phone.
"That is easily done." the voice continued, calmly. "You
will remain crippled until you go to bed. Upon waking, all you
must do is stand, forsake the braces and crutches, stand and the
spell will be broken. But be warned, there are conseqe-"
"Thats all I needed to know, lady, later" blurted Cindy,
and crashed the receiver down. She crutched back into the
living room, releived that her condition was not permanant, and
raised her legs up onto the couch. She looked at her legs in
the braces. They didn't look so bad, just different. It was an
interesting experience, to be crippled like this, but she
definitely didn't want it to be permanant. She wathced TV for a
few hours then got ready for bed.
In bed, she first took off her shoes and braces, and her
palsied, crippled feet hung there. She hated it, and hurriedly
stripped off her stockings and skirt, then her blouse, and got
uder the covers, falling right to sleep.
Cindy woke with her alarm to see her legs and feet back to
normal. She jumped out of bed and practically ran to the
bathroom. She was fine, she could almost convince herself it
was all a bad dream, except for the braces and crutches now
laying on her bedroom floor. She kicked them under the bed and
showered and dressed, ready to face the day.
Two Weeks Later
"It's a rare neuromuscular disorder, Cindy. I'm afraid
it's not reversible, although I've never seen it attack a person
so quickly." Doctor Solomon said. I can't even recommend a
course of treatment, I'm afraid. The damage will be permanent,
and may even worsen, I'm afraid."
Cindy was in tears. She had come into the hospital four
days ago, complaining about numbness and soreness in her legs,
and here she was today, after a battery of tests... She looked
at her legs, her ankles turned in, her feet palsied. Her legs
weren't working at all, partially numb, totally useless. She
sat in a wheelchair, wondering if she would be confined to it
forever. What was it the voice on the phone had said about
consequences?
"Doctor" Cindy asked, "Honestly, will I ever walk again?"
"No, Cindy, you wont, at least not on your own." Dr.
Solomon replied. "I can have one of our orthopedic specialists
fit you for a set of legbraces, and you should be able to lead a
fairly normal, active life."
"As a cripple." Cindy wept. She wheeled herself back to
her hospital room and tried to get herself back into bed, but
without the use of her legs it was hopeless. With tears in her
eyes she rang the call button.
"Is everything OK Cindy" The nurse asked as she enterd the
room. Cindy was crying in her wheelchair, her legs hanging
awkwardly in her chair.
"My legs..." was all she could cry. The nurse lifted Cindy
into her bed, lifting her legs up for her and putting them under
the covers. The nurse held Cindy and rocked her, trying to
comfort this poor girl who had suddenly lost so much.
After three weeks the therapist decided it was hopeless.
Cindy's legs were bad and slowly getting worse, and even in the
full length legbraces she had it was just too difficult for her
to move around. They really hurt more than they helped,
especially with the extent of muscular damage to her lower legs
and ankles. Cindy was sitting in her new wheelchair, her legs
still encased in the braces she tried so hard to walk on, she
had wanted so badly to walk again, even on the braces, with
crutches or a walker, but now she was told it was hopeless, that
she, at 22 years old, she was a cripple, her legs useless,
confined totally to her wheelchair. She allowed herself to be
pushed back to her room, and her attendany lifted her into her
bed and began to remove her braces. She watched her legs as
they were unwrapped from their metal casings, so pale and thin
now, her feet looking so terrible, toes curled and ankles turned
in. She tried to move them, even wiggle her toes, but she
couldn't even do that anymore. Her legs just lay there,
crippled and lifeless. She looked at her wheelchair, now
realizing it was HER wheelchair, that her life now revolved
around it. She had always liked to be the girl on crutches, and
now she'd never be able to walk on crutches, or anything, ever
again. She lay down and cried herself to sleep once again.
Cindy had been in the wheelchair for several months. She
pulled into the handicapped spot in front of the mall and opened
the car door. She did her usual routine, pulling her wheelchair
from out of the back seat, setting it up, boosting herself into
it from the drivers' seat of her hand-controlled car. She
lifted one leg, then the other into the legrests of the
wheelchair. She still hadn't gotten used to her legs. The
disease had now robbed them of all muscle control, some feeling
too. As she lifted them, she watched her foot hang limp and
twisted by the disease which had put her in a wheelchair for the
rest of her life. She locked the car door and wheeled into the
mall.
Cindy was sitting in the food court when she noticed the
little girl walking by on crutches. The girl was on aluminum
forearm crutches, with AFO braces on her legs, her legs swinging
between the crutches, bringing Cindy memories of that day after
the yard sale. The little girl looked at Cindy, and for some
reason, Cindy felt some connection, but instead of smiling back
at the girl Cindy sneered, angry more at her condition than
anything else, and the girl noticed, turning away quickly and
obviously hurt. Cindy blew it off and wheeled her way into the
bookstore, picking out some reading material for later on.
It had been a year since the disease had confined Cindy to
a wheelchair when she noticed the discoloration on her foot. It
was a week later, after asking her doctor about it, that she
woke up, groggy and confused, from the anesthetic. She sat
halfway up and could see, under the sheets and bandages, where
her legs had been amputated midway between her knees and her
crotch. The disease had apparently caused a loss of circulation
in her legs, and they had to be amputated, to save her life.
Cindy pulled up into the handicapped parking space in front
of the mall and pulled her wheelchair out from the back seat,
setting it up and sliding into it, fixing her skirt around her
nylon-clad stumps. Of course, as she had suspected since they
amputated her legs, she couldn't use prosthetics because of the
muscular damage still in what was left of her legs, so she was
still wheelchair bound. Bieng legless was so strange to her,
but it was at least a little easier than dragging her legs
around with her, even though she now lost balance pretty easy.
Shoes were not a problem anymore, of course, and she always wore
skirts and knee-hi stockings, which to her were thigh-hi's so
she though she looked better now, at least a little. As she
wheeled into the mall, she noticed a little girl on crutches,
with AFO braces, who looked at her and smiled strangely. Cindy
smiled back, not sure why, and wheeled herself into the
bookstore to buy some reading material. She saw another girl in
the bookstore, also in a wheelchair, obviously paralyzed by the
look of her legs, ringing up a couple of books at the register.
The girl looked at Cindy, then glanced down at her stumps,
looking a bit sad.
"Should have listened to the phone call" She said crypticly.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Story - Dinner and a Show
Dinner and a Show By ParaGirl
Picture is from Paige's Pages, my all-time favorite model site!!!
He heard her before he saw her. Heard that subtle ‘step – thump’ of someone walking on crutches. It wasn’t something most people noticed, but it was something I had been attuned to since grade school. I felt my pulse quicken and my heartbeat seemed to triple. She had said she had a ‘special surprise’ but I had no idea what. A hundred things ran through my mind, a thousand, but with that simple ‘step – thump’ sound coming from the hallway, all my thoughts and fantasies came racing in one big jumbled image.
She came around the corner in one of her sexier outfits – not slutty at all, but showing enough skin to let the imagination run wild. A nice, form-fitting top and knee-length skirt, knee socks, and…
I barely noticed the outfit, I have to admit. She came walking in using the forearm crutches, which always made me hot, but tonight she wore something new – something I had never seen before, at least not on her. Sleek steel braces attached to low-slung black leather shoes, caressed her legs from ankles to thighs, and attached with wide black leather cuffs at her thighs and knees. They were the real thing, not some home made props – they had the knee locks, the ankle pivots, everything was perfect.
She crutched into the room slowly but gracefully – a classic swing-through gait that it looked as if she had practiced for years. Crutches go in front, placed evenly, then the legs brought up and swung through the uprights, moving forward one swing-step at a time. It was pure poetry. I couldn’t explain why, god knows I’ve tried, but it was just how it was, how I ‘worked’. After a lifetime of confusion and guilt, the ‘why’ of it all ceased to matter, it just ‘was’.
She told me to have a seat, and she made her way to the refrigerator, pulling out a few items, one at a time, and carefully placing them on the counter. She talked about her day, about work, about friends, and she started making a simple dinner, something she had done a hundred times before, maybe a thousand. But it was like I was seeing it for the first time. I couldn’t speak, My heart pounded in his chest like an African war drum. I felt my arousal in my entire body, not just my cock. She stood there, crutches leaning against the wall, her braced legs moving side to side as she cooked. There was no reason why seeing her make me dinner should do this to me, but my mind raced, my pulse was racing, my hands sweaty.
I asked if she needed any help setting the table – it was only polite, right? She laughed and said no, she’d take care of everything. And she did, cooking the dinner, making some salad. She crutched over to the cabinets and pulled out plates, cups, all expertly done, no struggling or falling over. It was no different from any other night, but it was so different it may as well have been on a different planet, or in the middle of some sultan’s harem. She set the table, poured me a drink, gave me bread and then served me his meal. My hands were shaking as I watched her put her plate and glass at the table then slowly, even sensually lowered herself to her seat, her legs locked in the braces and sticking straight out in front of her. She wasn’t going to, couldn’t possibly, then… ‘click’ – the unlocked the left brace and pulled her leg in, bending at the knee so she was in a more natural sitting position. My heart skipped three beats and I felt himself nearing orgasm just sitting there, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with chicken and potatoes in my plate. ‘Click’ went the other brace and I may have let out a low moan. She didn’t seem to notice, but I was pretty sure she had heard. The nearly imperceptible smile that crossed her lips as she pulled her other leg under the table, positioned her chair and began to eat, her crutches leaned against the wall.
Nothing was ever said about the crutches, the braces – nothing needed to be said. She was saying everything she wanted to just sitting there, the leather and steel wrapped sensually, erotically around her thighs, her calves, her feet. I was saying everything in the way my eyes never left her, how they kept flitting down, as if I could see through the wooden tabletop. I kept glancing to the right, almost unconsciously, looking at her forearm crutches just leaning against the wall, not doing anything at all yet taunting me, calling out to me, making my mind fill with thoughts and dreams and desires I’d never spoken aloud.
Dinner was done and she instructed me to head to the living room while she straightened up. As if she expected me to take my eyes off the pitchers mound in the last inning of the World Series. I stayed and watched her move deftly about the kitchen, sometimes with crutches, sometimes without. I had no idea if she had gotten the braces months ago and practiced when she was alone, or if she was just so naturally graceful that even in heavy orthopedic braces she moved like a dancer. A sexy, legbrace-wearing dancer, but a dancer nonetheless.
Dinner and cleanup done, we retied to the living room. I yearned for the bedroom, truth be told, but she obviously had a plan in mind, and by this time I was helpless to resist. I sat on the couch, she slowly sat beside me, lowering herself on stiff legs, setting the crutches aside, and then in the ultimate erotic gesture, asked me to help her get her legs up on my lap. I gladly complied, and as soon as I touched those braced legs it was like an electric shock through my whole body. I lifted her legs and lay them across a pillow and over my lap. She wiggled a bit to get comfortable and the heels of her brace-connected shoes rubbed my crotch a few times until, without warning, I came with a low moan of pleasure and an immediately red face. She again pretended not to notice, but asked if I was comfortable with her braces across my lap – not her legs, but her braces. She knew how I objectified them, that as much as I was aroused and satisfied by her normal everyday legs, that this was an experience that my brain was hardwired to go into overdrive for. I looked at her braced legs, her crutches laying there innocently, and it was more potent than the best porn movie, more arousing than a thousand lap dances. She just sat there, fully clothed and chatting about something innocuous, a Law and Order episode maybe, but in my mind I may as well have been watching porn. I didn’t understand it and honestly didn’t care, this was heaven and every dirty erotic dream I’d ever had laying right across my lap.
TV watching didn’t last long. I started rubbing her legs and after five minutes I may as well have been rubbing my own penis as aroused as I was getting. She saw my urgency, reveled in it as she asked to help her get her legs down, and then the coup de gras, asked me to hand her the crutches. I could do nothing by comply, and silently followed her as she slowly crutched to the bedroom. I would have walked around the globe for her at this point, all rational thought replaced by my desires, my bizarre fetish fantasies made real. She told me to sit on the bed and I did so without a word. She then proceeded to do the most amazing erotic strip tease in the history of the world. If all the best strip teases in the world were rolled up into one supreme strip tease dance of the Gods, that would come in a pale second the to sensuality and erotic perfection I witnessed in her slow, sometimes clumsy attempts to balance on braces and crutches and slip off her shirt, then her bra, then undo her skirt and let it slip to the floor. It hung a little on one of her braces, so she had to wiggle her leg a little to get it to drop.
She stood there then, naked except for the steel and leather braces and her knee-socks. She was like a Goddess, so radiant she nearly hurt my eyes to look at. I thought that it had to be a dream of some sort – maybe even a head injury, I was lying on the floor somewhere bleeding and this was the scene my damaged brain decided to torment me with. Then she touched me and I shuddered, my whole body shook with desire. She helped me get my shirt off, balancing on her braces and one crutch, and then I too the rest off, stripping down to my naked soul in front of her. She asked for help onto the bed and I nearly tripped over myself to comply, helping her sit and moving her braced legs into position as she directed. She told me to eat her out, and it was as if I didn’t even have a choice – my body just did as she asked. I lay on the bed and moved into position and my head and arms touched the wide leather cuffs holding her braces on. I shivered again and begin kissing and licking her, all the while my arousal and desire growing fast and furious.
I felt the stiff, unforgiving braced legs rubbing against me, stole sideways glances at the crutches leaning near the bed, positioned just for me, I grew more and more aroused, almost crazed with the fever running through me. She moaned aloud and I redoubled my efforts at her hot and ready sex, rubbing her clit, playing with her anus as I licked and sucked at her mound. I was fully committed and driven, the caresses of her braced legs goading me on further and further. She moaned louder and louder until finally she let out a long howl of pleasure and her back arched sharply – her legs were stuck in their locked position and the pressure she put against them in her throes of orgasm make me even hotter. She finally pushed my head aside once she had come to completion several times, and I dutifully backed away.
She told me to undo her braces for her, and I though I would black out. Even though I could have done it blindfolded in a hurricane, she guided me through every strap and buckle until both braces slipped off her gorgeous, perfect legs. I placed the braces near the crutches, leaning against the wall where I could have full view of them, and she reached over and handed me a bottle of lubricant. She told me what she wanted me to do with it and I wasn’t sure I could. I wasn’t sure my hands and arms would be able to accomplish such a task. But I did as she asked and lifted her legs in my hands, moistening her feet with the lubricant, and began to rub myself with her feet, her legs a sexy and erotic dead weight in my hands as I rubbed her feet up and around my shaft. Using her limp toes to play with my balls, her smooth insteps to rub up and down my incredibly aroused cock, pressing both feet together and masturbating with what , just for tonight, was a perfect pair of useless legs and feet, complete with braces and crutches. The details didn’t matter – the never did in my fantasies. Never a thought about car wrecks or physical therapy or permanent disability. In my mind it was all about this – make believe and fantasy made real for that one perfect moment, a shimmering make-believe shattered by a healthy orgasm and the flick of the light switch….
It didn’t take long before I climaxed, shooting hot and white all over her feet and the mattress. It was done and I collapse to the bed, breathing heavy, my body aching form the constant and extreme level of arousal. I feel like I can barely move, but I know if she asks me to do anything – lift a car, move a dresser, anything – I would do it no matter what. Instead, I hold her close and pass out in her arms, smelling sweat and our sex and just a faint, ever so faint hint of fresh leather…
I wake up under the covers and it was as if waking from a dream. No crutches, no braces, all the accoutrements of the previous evening’s encounter stored away in some sacred sepulcher. Even if they never see the light of day again, they had served their purpose, their twilight task ingrained in every erotic thought contained in my head. One perfect evening locked forever in my heart and mind.
Picture is from Paige's Pages, my all-time favorite model site!!!
He heard her before he saw her. Heard that subtle ‘step – thump’ of someone walking on crutches. It wasn’t something most people noticed, but it was something I had been attuned to since grade school. I felt my pulse quicken and my heartbeat seemed to triple. She had said she had a ‘special surprise’ but I had no idea what. A hundred things ran through my mind, a thousand, but with that simple ‘step – thump’ sound coming from the hallway, all my thoughts and fantasies came racing in one big jumbled image.
She came around the corner in one of her sexier outfits – not slutty at all, but showing enough skin to let the imagination run wild. A nice, form-fitting top and knee-length skirt, knee socks, and…
I barely noticed the outfit, I have to admit. She came walking in using the forearm crutches, which always made me hot, but tonight she wore something new – something I had never seen before, at least not on her. Sleek steel braces attached to low-slung black leather shoes, caressed her legs from ankles to thighs, and attached with wide black leather cuffs at her thighs and knees. They were the real thing, not some home made props – they had the knee locks, the ankle pivots, everything was perfect.
She crutched into the room slowly but gracefully – a classic swing-through gait that it looked as if she had practiced for years. Crutches go in front, placed evenly, then the legs brought up and swung through the uprights, moving forward one swing-step at a time. It was pure poetry. I couldn’t explain why, god knows I’ve tried, but it was just how it was, how I ‘worked’. After a lifetime of confusion and guilt, the ‘why’ of it all ceased to matter, it just ‘was’.
She told me to have a seat, and she made her way to the refrigerator, pulling out a few items, one at a time, and carefully placing them on the counter. She talked about her day, about work, about friends, and she started making a simple dinner, something she had done a hundred times before, maybe a thousand. But it was like I was seeing it for the first time. I couldn’t speak, My heart pounded in his chest like an African war drum. I felt my arousal in my entire body, not just my cock. She stood there, crutches leaning against the wall, her braced legs moving side to side as she cooked. There was no reason why seeing her make me dinner should do this to me, but my mind raced, my pulse was racing, my hands sweaty.
I asked if she needed any help setting the table – it was only polite, right? She laughed and said no, she’d take care of everything. And she did, cooking the dinner, making some salad. She crutched over to the cabinets and pulled out plates, cups, all expertly done, no struggling or falling over. It was no different from any other night, but it was so different it may as well have been on a different planet, or in the middle of some sultan’s harem. She set the table, poured me a drink, gave me bread and then served me his meal. My hands were shaking as I watched her put her plate and glass at the table then slowly, even sensually lowered herself to her seat, her legs locked in the braces and sticking straight out in front of her. She wasn’t going to, couldn’t possibly, then… ‘click’ – the unlocked the left brace and pulled her leg in, bending at the knee so she was in a more natural sitting position. My heart skipped three beats and I felt himself nearing orgasm just sitting there, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with chicken and potatoes in my plate. ‘Click’ went the other brace and I may have let out a low moan. She didn’t seem to notice, but I was pretty sure she had heard. The nearly imperceptible smile that crossed her lips as she pulled her other leg under the table, positioned her chair and began to eat, her crutches leaned against the wall.
Nothing was ever said about the crutches, the braces – nothing needed to be said. She was saying everything she wanted to just sitting there, the leather and steel wrapped sensually, erotically around her thighs, her calves, her feet. I was saying everything in the way my eyes never left her, how they kept flitting down, as if I could see through the wooden tabletop. I kept glancing to the right, almost unconsciously, looking at her forearm crutches just leaning against the wall, not doing anything at all yet taunting me, calling out to me, making my mind fill with thoughts and dreams and desires I’d never spoken aloud.
Dinner was done and she instructed me to head to the living room while she straightened up. As if she expected me to take my eyes off the pitchers mound in the last inning of the World Series. I stayed and watched her move deftly about the kitchen, sometimes with crutches, sometimes without. I had no idea if she had gotten the braces months ago and practiced when she was alone, or if she was just so naturally graceful that even in heavy orthopedic braces she moved like a dancer. A sexy, legbrace-wearing dancer, but a dancer nonetheless.
Dinner and cleanup done, we retied to the living room. I yearned for the bedroom, truth be told, but she obviously had a plan in mind, and by this time I was helpless to resist. I sat on the couch, she slowly sat beside me, lowering herself on stiff legs, setting the crutches aside, and then in the ultimate erotic gesture, asked me to help her get her legs up on my lap. I gladly complied, and as soon as I touched those braced legs it was like an electric shock through my whole body. I lifted her legs and lay them across a pillow and over my lap. She wiggled a bit to get comfortable and the heels of her brace-connected shoes rubbed my crotch a few times until, without warning, I came with a low moan of pleasure and an immediately red face. She again pretended not to notice, but asked if I was comfortable with her braces across my lap – not her legs, but her braces. She knew how I objectified them, that as much as I was aroused and satisfied by her normal everyday legs, that this was an experience that my brain was hardwired to go into overdrive for. I looked at her braced legs, her crutches laying there innocently, and it was more potent than the best porn movie, more arousing than a thousand lap dances. She just sat there, fully clothed and chatting about something innocuous, a Law and Order episode maybe, but in my mind I may as well have been watching porn. I didn’t understand it and honestly didn’t care, this was heaven and every dirty erotic dream I’d ever had laying right across my lap.
TV watching didn’t last long. I started rubbing her legs and after five minutes I may as well have been rubbing my own penis as aroused as I was getting. She saw my urgency, reveled in it as she asked to help her get her legs down, and then the coup de gras, asked me to hand her the crutches. I could do nothing by comply, and silently followed her as she slowly crutched to the bedroom. I would have walked around the globe for her at this point, all rational thought replaced by my desires, my bizarre fetish fantasies made real. She told me to sit on the bed and I did so without a word. She then proceeded to do the most amazing erotic strip tease in the history of the world. If all the best strip teases in the world were rolled up into one supreme strip tease dance of the Gods, that would come in a pale second the to sensuality and erotic perfection I witnessed in her slow, sometimes clumsy attempts to balance on braces and crutches and slip off her shirt, then her bra, then undo her skirt and let it slip to the floor. It hung a little on one of her braces, so she had to wiggle her leg a little to get it to drop.
She stood there then, naked except for the steel and leather braces and her knee-socks. She was like a Goddess, so radiant she nearly hurt my eyes to look at. I thought that it had to be a dream of some sort – maybe even a head injury, I was lying on the floor somewhere bleeding and this was the scene my damaged brain decided to torment me with. Then she touched me and I shuddered, my whole body shook with desire. She helped me get my shirt off, balancing on her braces and one crutch, and then I too the rest off, stripping down to my naked soul in front of her. She asked for help onto the bed and I nearly tripped over myself to comply, helping her sit and moving her braced legs into position as she directed. She told me to eat her out, and it was as if I didn’t even have a choice – my body just did as she asked. I lay on the bed and moved into position and my head and arms touched the wide leather cuffs holding her braces on. I shivered again and begin kissing and licking her, all the while my arousal and desire growing fast and furious.
I felt the stiff, unforgiving braced legs rubbing against me, stole sideways glances at the crutches leaning near the bed, positioned just for me, I grew more and more aroused, almost crazed with the fever running through me. She moaned aloud and I redoubled my efforts at her hot and ready sex, rubbing her clit, playing with her anus as I licked and sucked at her mound. I was fully committed and driven, the caresses of her braced legs goading me on further and further. She moaned louder and louder until finally she let out a long howl of pleasure and her back arched sharply – her legs were stuck in their locked position and the pressure she put against them in her throes of orgasm make me even hotter. She finally pushed my head aside once she had come to completion several times, and I dutifully backed away.
She told me to undo her braces for her, and I though I would black out. Even though I could have done it blindfolded in a hurricane, she guided me through every strap and buckle until both braces slipped off her gorgeous, perfect legs. I placed the braces near the crutches, leaning against the wall where I could have full view of them, and she reached over and handed me a bottle of lubricant. She told me what she wanted me to do with it and I wasn’t sure I could. I wasn’t sure my hands and arms would be able to accomplish such a task. But I did as she asked and lifted her legs in my hands, moistening her feet with the lubricant, and began to rub myself with her feet, her legs a sexy and erotic dead weight in my hands as I rubbed her feet up and around my shaft. Using her limp toes to play with my balls, her smooth insteps to rub up and down my incredibly aroused cock, pressing both feet together and masturbating with what , just for tonight, was a perfect pair of useless legs and feet, complete with braces and crutches. The details didn’t matter – the never did in my fantasies. Never a thought about car wrecks or physical therapy or permanent disability. In my mind it was all about this – make believe and fantasy made real for that one perfect moment, a shimmering make-believe shattered by a healthy orgasm and the flick of the light switch….
It didn’t take long before I climaxed, shooting hot and white all over her feet and the mattress. It was done and I collapse to the bed, breathing heavy, my body aching form the constant and extreme level of arousal. I feel like I can barely move, but I know if she asks me to do anything – lift a car, move a dresser, anything – I would do it no matter what. Instead, I hold her close and pass out in her arms, smelling sweat and our sex and just a faint, ever so faint hint of fresh leather…
I wake up under the covers and it was as if waking from a dream. No crutches, no braces, all the accoutrements of the previous evening’s encounter stored away in some sacred sepulcher. Even if they never see the light of day again, they had served their purpose, their twilight task ingrained in every erotic thought contained in my head. One perfect evening locked forever in my heart and mind.
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