The content of this blog is a fiction. It deals with BIID and various paraphilia in a romanced way and has solely been created in order to indulge in recreational writing. I like to write about paraphilias, I find it fascinating.

You may comment freely about whatever you want, express your thoughts about the articles, request plot twists and why not correct my mistakes (I not a native english speaker). However I will not indulge in any conversation pertaining to my personal life and whereabouts as it is totally irrelevant to the subject of this blog.

Friday 6 April 2018

Making it real

The DonJoy iron brace was a dark bulky affair and having my leg pointing straight in front of me was a constant annoyance. But it was nothing compared to the underarm crutches.

After only a day my underarms were bruised and somehow the side of my boobs were very sensitive and mind you, not in a pleasant way.

I switched to a small manual wheelchair. At least my leg was resting on an extended leg rest. It wasn't too tiring.
The week-end was spent with Connor looking at me bumping into the furnitures, he was a lot handier with his own manual wheelchair, the device had become an in-house extension of himself.
I could see he was really getting into being paralysed :
Perfecting a very peculiar slouching, relaxing his legs enough to make them appear limp and floppy. It was getting truly realistic and it was almost a surprise for me every morning to see him get up from the chair, grab his new fancy dark matte carbon cane and head to the car with a slight limb.

He had been hired by the first firm he had an interview with but while he was ready to get a job, his life commitment to a wheelchair wasn't at this stage yet. So for now his knee had officially gotten better while still quite feeble and that was it. But at home experiments were on as soon as he would cross the door.
Weak legs only?
Paralysed from the hips down?
From the waist?
Higher even? T
here was only so much he could try at the moment with the means at our disposal and the house as only scenery, but so far complete paralysis from the hips down as his go-to disability.
The way he was sitting in his chair when mimicking this particular disability was very enticing. Enticing to me as well. One thing we didn't have in common was his profound desire to lose feeling in his legs. He wasn't sure why it was and how far he wanted to go with this particular angle of his BIID condition, but we'd already been experiencing a little bit and it had been revealing for him.

Baby steps, but a nonetheless interesting experience was made a couple days before my leg got encased into the full length brace.

Connor had been tempted to try cutting his blood flow in his legs for a while, but i was dead set against it, so we settled for a small chemical option on a smaller scale. We used an anaestesic cream on both his feet. He coud still move them but couldn't really feel light touches or scratches up to his ankles. Sitting at the foot of his wheelchair while his eyes were closed, I started caressing his feet ( they are oddly slim and cute for such a well built man, no calluses or ugly hairy toes. ) he was quite non-plussed by it, but then he opened his eyes. And he realised I was touching him. Immediately his breathing got a lot heavier and activity showed in the groin area.
It went wild when I grabbed my left arm, kept in a wrist brace and made my limp left hand travel on his right foot. He joined me on the floor and his pants were down as fast as he could and luckily I wasn't wearing anything under my dress at the time. He was on me, pants hanging on his dead legs and he slid inside me the way I love, only using his upper body strength. Thrusts were slow and heavy and he came quickly with almost a rage.
- "It was wonderful, he breathed in my neck. I want to try it without feelings. I want to fill you and not feel it. I want to see your breast rubbing against my chest and not feel it. I want to know that I am cumming just by the heat i feel. It would be magical. I want to guess my body."
We didn't go into details, but the pandora box was opened. There would be a number of odd experimentations in our near future.

But now was my time to go further and as I rolled into the office on Tuesday, crossing once again a fearful line into disability, I knew my choice had been the right one. While a wheelchair-bound life was not an aim in itself, showing myself to the world with a totally incapacitated left leg felt right.
It was me, pushing my manual wheelchair and sometimes struggling to get up on one leg, leaning on the crutch always handily stuck at the back of the chair. My heavy breast going up and down with the effort, my hips hovering a bit for balance. My left hand shaky on the handle of the crutch. That was me, almost complete and feeling livelier, happier and sexier than ever.

At the end of the first week, Emma popped up at work for an important meeting. Her head was now strapped to the header of a new bulkier chair. Her right arm was strapped too, under her suit her chest and neck in a stiff complexion of plastic. Her legs strapped at the thighs and ankles with dark foamy belts. The operation was only a couple weeks away. She rolled to my office and requested that her living assistant close the door, waiting outside.
I rolled my chair away from my desk and she looked at my leg. Her eyes then travelling to my round belly, wrapped in my loveliest flowery dress, my breast resting on top, like two soft promises. I knew the effect of my milky and wide cleavage on guys, the two creamy and soft yet supple looking globes endearing my chest and complimenting my wide hips and thin waist were always attractive. I grabbed my two tripod crutches and got up slowly. I think Emma came, just seeing me slowly crutching the three steps to her chair.
- "I want your nipples in my mouth she murmured. Please. "

I gladly obliged, unbuttoning the top button of my dress and extirpating my right boob from my bra I bent down over her.

She unstrapped her right arm and guided it with her left, pinching my nipple in her feeble fingers while her stronger hand was directing my heavy boob to her mouth. I followed the move and soon she was expertly sucking it. And I was shaking of pleasure. It only took a minute for me to muffle a scream of pleasure. She felt the epitome of my joy and released my nipple. Smiling.

Breathless, I rearranged my cleavage and made a slow suggestive way back to my wheelchair. Believe me sitting sexily with a totally stiffened leg is even harder than it sounds.
Still, I could see the look of lust in her when I rearranged my leg on the foot rest.

But there was a knock at the door and we couldn't go further. I was slightly flustered when a colleague came in, but my office had been oddly warm all morning and I had remarked it aloud earlier so it went unnoticed.
We exchanged weary looks and she rolled out of my office.

I knew i wouldn't see her again before the operation. And the next time she would see me, my disability would have taken a turn for the worse... Or the better.

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