When September's end.

I had not heard about Emma since the operation. We'd all received a mail at work, letting us know that the surgery had been a success and that while she would a lot of physiotherapy, she would be back at the office at least once a week at the beginning of october. 

I was crossing days on my calendar with the impatience of a child before Christmas. I was really happy that the surgery had been effective. Emma had been in pain for months now, and I didn't like the idea. But... yes, frankly a part of me would regret the sight of her slim strapped body in the electric wheelchair, and the way her paralysed hand was stroking my breast... and... well, we would adapt. 

I was myself adapting to a few changes at home. While for now I was content with my own disability, a heavy limp on the left, a weakened but mobile left hand, Connor was feeling adventurous. 

He wouldn't leave his wheelchair anymore. At home he was paralyzed from the hips down. At work, his knee was acting up badly and a wheelchair was deemed more practical than non-weight bearing crutching. There had been no particular comments, it was not hindering his capacity to work. He was treating his fair load of cases and not counting his hours. That's all they wanted.

As soon as he would reach home he'd get rid of his small knee brace and slouch on his wheelchair. He'd strap his thighs and get on our everyday business, helping me with dinner, putting the laundry in the dryer, sort through the mail. I'd sometimes stop my own chores just to look at him, calmly rolling around, his abs relaxed in a way that would let a tiny belly appear, a way of pushing his chair that would show that not all the muscles in his back where working. His bare feet flopping on the foot rest... His relaxed happy face.

Every time I'd stop and look at him, the feeling was the same. Love. Whatever form our future life would take, I was in love with this handsome, bubbly and quirky young lawyer. And he'd look at me and smile. Leaving me wondering if what he felt for me was just a comforting passion born from our common desire to be disabled or something deeper, and stronger. It was certainly too early to tell. While we quite readily started to share a house and a bed, we were only still at the beginning of our relationship. 

And we also had relationships with... well other people. While both our situation at work were settled. and secure, we still had to deal with friends and family. 

Somehow, I felt luckier than Connor on the matter. My parents had been dead a while now, I'd been basically raised by an aunt who now had a mild form of dementia and was being taken care of in a very nice nursing home. I'd visit her regularly, and she was barely aware of my physical changes. As for my friends, well, I was just telling the degenerative disease story, when they were wondering about my crutches and my braces, and that'd be it. Some actually would not invite me anymore, but on the whole, my friend's circle was quite cool about it. Why wouldn't they ? 

Connor, on the other hand, had parents, quite present in his life as he was an only kid. And Connor needed to be paralysed, without feelings, for life. They would be a lot more devastated by it than him. And they would want to meet the doctors, and take appointements for him, and god knows what else. Tehy'd already been wining about him working as a waiter during summer break instead of just chilling with friends on their money, they'd spend millions on him to be able to walk again. 

We were a bit at loss on the subject. Not mentioning that they were starting to enquire about his whereabouts, his new job, and his new girlfriend. They seemed to be the "bourgeoisie" kind. Dad was a lawyer too and mum ran an art gallery.  I was not worried about social status, with a high paying job in a respected firm and solid diplomas, they could not get me on that. And even though they were dead, my parents, in my birth country, were almost nobility. They wouldn't spit on that either. But the " tall and plump, almost chubby blonde, seven years older, visibly disabled with a degenerative disease" part of me, they wouldn't like it. They'd try to fit him with their own choice of girlfriends before, and... I did not have the required profile. They were slim, petite brunettes on the healthy side. 

Abbie had taken the shortcut by simply changing her name and disappearing. Connor was not willing to do this, he loved his parents, not matter how smothering they could be. 

We'd talk about the issue at length in the evening, while Connor was also scouring the internet, searching for safe means to cut all feeling in his lower body. Both questions, so far remained unanswered.

How well Emma was doing, however, I did get the answer on a rainy Monday at the beginning of October. Last time I had seen her, she was a barely moving porcelain doll in a large padded electric wheelchair. 

I was in my office, engrossed in a tricky case when I heard a small knock at the door. 

- Get in!

The door opened slowly and there she was. In her usual white shirt and tight suit, her legs adorned in silk and with cute but formal small heeled shoes. The wheelchair was smaller, no high back, no straps, but still electric. The small rigid brace around her back, and clearly visible under the white shirt was oddly complimenting her small breasts. 

- Hello! I'm only popping in to get organized, I'll work part-time and in remote for a few weeks. 

I'm not sure what I said, I must have been looking glad and disappointed at the same time. She closed the door and smiled. 

- I was wondering, Jodie, since you've been covering for me for weeks now, maybe you could come to my place once a week, until I am back full time, so I can stay on top of things without too much back and forth by e-mail. I know it's asking a lot, but it would help tremendously. 

Hey, who am I to deny a sick lady some help ? 

Blind Date - Part 2

 We had talked at length about it, this was Connor's night. The blindness was not a wanted ailment. Simply a way to help with his other desire. The lack of feeling in his lower body. 

I was lying next to him, and did not make a move, but I said 

- I am touching your thigh... Can you feel me ? 

- No...he sighed. Which hand are you using ? 

- The weak one, my fingers are curled and I'm caressing you with the back. I'm higher now, almost between your legs. 

- Am I hard ? he panted.

- Very much. 

- Touch it.

I moved slightly as if I was changing my hand's place, but still wasn't touching him. 

- It's in my hand now, I can try and press a bit. 

- Your weak hand ? 

- Yes... 

- Move it, slowly, he breathed heavily. 

So I did. Describing the move, the way my limp fingers were clumsily rubbing against his penis and he came within a minute, with a deep moan I'd never heard before. 

Once he came back to some semblance of calm, he sighed.

- I want to see and not feel now... I want to see you do me things that I will not feel. 

- Maybe some day, I murmured. My turn now... but I don't want to break your fantasy. If I unstrap your weak arm, will you caress my breast with it. 

- Depends, he smiled, will you close your eyes and imagine that I'm Emma. 

I laughed and started removing the soft straps on his shoulder. 

*

The next two days were spent at the jazz festival. It felt very odd, coming out as a disabled couple, not matter how "non-permanent" our alibi was this time. I spent most of the time in my wheelchair, assisted by Abbie, and Adam and Connor really seemed to have a blast, cracking jokes at Connor's state. It was generally a light and delightful and sometimes, I would get my chair next to Connor's and tell him my hand was on his knee. He would put his hand down to check and smile sweetly.

I came back, still not very fond of experimental Jazz but quite impatient to get a second trip in this hotel. And a third maybe. We had plans. 

Blind Date - Part 1

I didn't dare look at my leg.

- So? 

- Did you have a permanent hair removal treatment done? 

- Yes. 

-That was a good move. Your leg is still really smooth. 

-Abie, how is it? 

- The way you wished. Open your eyes.

I opened my eyes and my leg was here.

Intact. 

Or so it seemed. It looked a bit paler, softer, less muscular than the right one. 

But other than that it was my leg. Still fully extended.

- Ok. Let's try bending it. Anna grabbed my leg lowered the foot rest and slowly bent my leg, it felt stiff and cotonous like an arm you fell asleep on too long. Feeling was here but distant and I was not sure I could activate my knee by myself. 

Actually I did not want to try, I was both scared that the month long immobility had failed and quite nervous at the idea that it had worked. 

My ankle dropped. 

My knee kinda caved and my leg naturally ended up nestling against the right one. 

- Wow. 

I quite naturally tried to get it back straight, but nothing happened. I removed my foot from my footrest and leaving it dangling I tried to move my toes. Something I had not attempted in a month. They didn't even wriggle a little bit. I contracted my calf. Nothing. 

I was sure I was giving the right signal. Nothing. I tried to contract my thigh this time something happened, but it was feeble. Abigail was looking at my eagerly. 

- So? Wanna try to stand?

 She settled my favorite walker in front of me. My right leg went on the floor on its own, but I had to manually place my left leg, and it took a couple of tries to keep it straight. It was not as if there was no muscle left . More like the information wasn't passing through anymore. And up I went, shifting most of my weight on my right side. I wanted to step in front on the left. Nothing happened, my ankle bent inward and I was suddenly resting on the side of my foot, my knee bent too, nothing was holding. 

I pushed the leg with my hip and the remaining signal in my thigh. It moved, my naked toes sliding on the floor. Resting all my weight on the right and on the walker handles, I thrusted a bit more until i found a way to settle my foot flat, knee kinda locked. Bending inward. 

I had to move my right leg know. I bent over the walker and slowly pushed it in front, I knew that making a high step would result on my left leg buckling down on me and a fall. It went slowly but ok. I pushed the walker and gave it another try. 5 minutes later my gait was settled: 

 "Push walker, hip thrust and dead foot slide, lean on the walker, careful low step, straighten, push walker..."

 Connor would love it. 

In the meantime Abie was clapping her hands. 

-You look so good ! How do you like it ?

- It's so real... I'm really disabled. I' m me for real Abigail. 

- Can't say I'm not a tad envious she said, patting the fake bandaged stump that was popping out of one of her usual colourful frilly dresses. Even though if I do something there's no way back. Actually I'd be you, I'd try not too walk too much, it may get better and you wouldn't like it. 

- As a matter of fact, I think the whole experience rewired my brain. It really seems to be more a nervous impairment than a muscle weakness. Either way. I'm glad. I'll do the same for the right leg when it is time. 

Abigail laughed : 

-" But not yet. Connor and Adam shouldn't be long now. The week-end will soon be starting for real. You have your scenario ready? 

- Well, that's Connor's experimenting trip, so he worked a lot on it. I think he's got it down to a T, and I know my part."

 As we were saying it, we heard Adam truck honk in the driveway. I sat back in my wheelchair, grabbed my bag and placed it on my knees, Abie grabbed her rucksack and used my walker to join the guys outside. As I closed the door I saw her crutches gleaming in the hallway. She wouldn't need them for this trip. We dropped by the shop to get the few items we would need. This trip would be light. 

- "That's totally new, laughed Adam while helping Connor into a air cast on his left leg. I've never been with another guy on such a trip. It will be interesting. Neck up. "

Connor was set with a hard collar minerva. He was sitting in his sport wheelchair. Not slouching this time, because a soft lower back brace was keeping him nicely straight. His right arm got a homely black sling strapping it pitilessly tight against his chest. For this trip it would do. Adam painstakingly added the last touch. There had been a lot of debate about it. But it was done switfly and it was my turn. 

A heavy bandage on my left leg, hiding a brace so if needed  I could walk a bit. My walker and my wheelchair. And that was it. I was going as the real me out for the first time. On a wannabe trip. That was ironic. 

The trip was 4 hours long and the game was on. We got strapped in the back, Connor in my right so I could help him if needed. Guiding whatever he needed in his valid hand. Seeing him with a white pad over one eye and sunglasses was odd. I knew that the uncovered eye was almost totally blind, covened with a darkening lens especially designed to look like a milked over eye. Blind. 

There was a very nice jazz festival near the hotel we stopped at. That was the excuse. Well for us at least. 

Abigail and Adam were quite keen on going to see it. There was to be something for them in this trip too, right ? Anna was on both legs, in trousers, so if she was seeing someone she knew they wouldn't know that she wasn't wearing her prosthetic leg. I rolled out of the truck. I was getting quite handy with my wheelchair but for this trip I had to tone down my skills. I was only supposed to be using it since 2 weeks only. Connor was pushed by Abie. Looking quite happy in spite of the numerous ailments he seemed to suffer. 

The lobby was a lovely place and he asked to have it described to him. As I was doing so an hotel attendant came to welcome us and we chitchatted a bit. Connor said that the description of the place I did was quite enticing and he was impatient to see it for himself in a couple of months when we would come back for the winter break philarmonic series. And thus, by the evening, most of the hotel management knew that we had been in a rather nasty car accident a couple of weeks before but that appart from one of Connor's eye, nothing had been irremediably lost. 

And, most importantly, they would see us on both legs quit soon. Well, that was our characters plans in any case. 

But you know how mean writers are.
As far as this preparatory week-end went, it was wonderful.

It was Friday evening when we settled and the jazz festival wouldn't start before early afternoon the day after. We chose to stay cosily at the hotel and use their restaurant. Once in our ensuite double room, while Adam was helping Connor freshening up, I donned a lovely 50's style dark dress, made-up my hair in a dreamy bun and chose to use my walker to make an entrance at the restaurant.
- Are we turning heads asked Connor as we made our way in the room, and a rather hushed murmur
- Yes we are.
- I'm sure yo are quite the sight. he smiled as a waiter rushed us to our table.
 During the meal I helped Connor deal with his food. It was quite tender but not something I would enjoy doing on a daily basis.

Adam, his official helper was quite good at preventing any of his needs too, and overall seemed to enjoy himself, to the visible dismay of Abigail who was discovering an new side of her fantasy partner. There was no hint of attraction between Adam and Connor but the pair as a invalid and a helper was quite efficient.

Once we were done with dinner we decided to go to the hotel lounge and indulge with a few cocktails before getting back to our rooms. After a month sitting in my wheelchair, my arms were strong, but my right leg got tired very quickly and the last step were very slow. Abie noticed.
- Shall I go and get your wheelchair so you won't have to walk back all the way to the bedroom ?
I hesitated, and finally accepted. She left with my walker and was back with my wheelchair as the waiter brought us our drink.
We chatted the evening away and as midnight was approaching we decided that it was time to get back to the suite.
Weak and a tad drunk I actually did not manage to transfer alone from my seat to the wheelchair. Abie came to my rescue and help me stand up then sit down. She then carefully placed my dormant left leg on the foot pad. There was a fleeting moment of indecision. Did I like being helped or should I do everything to remain independant as much as possible ?
Maybe a question to answer with a clear head.

My evening routine was done alone, with my walker as only help and I joined the bedroom just in time to see Adam expertly transfering Connor onto the bed. Both his eyes were black out by a bandage now and he was naked except for his leg in a air cast and a soft minerva and a comfier padded arm sling.
- I can hear you, smiled Connor. Did Adam leave enough room for you when he settled me in bed ?
- Plenty, don't worry. I replied.
I had removed my bandage and ankle brace and my foot was not even leaving the carpeted floor. I could see that the simple sound of my crippled steps and the bump of my walker was having an effect on Connor.
Adam left discreetly waving my a short goodbye. I sat on the bed, helped my legs up and settle near Connor midsection.

The game could start.

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.

Sexual Healing

Summer was reaching its end when all of my three current wishes turned into reality.

I had just made my way home one night and I was in the kichen, with two kafo braces and a walker , fixing myself a healthy chicken caesar salad and working on a slow gait, sliding both my legs at the same time. Just to check if I liked it. (not so much actually, too swift...) when I heard a car entering my alleyway.
I made my way to the entrance door just too see Connor transfering from his car too a small sport wheelchair. My heart skipped a beat. He was the epitome of sexiness, in a nice tailored suit, looking very smart. His shoulders looked strong and his arms powerful while his feet seemed dead and weak in his shiny italian shoes. He strapped his thighs to the chair and rolled towards me, slightly slouched in his seat as if he was paralysed somewhere just under his chest.

- "I hope I'm not interrupting anything", he said, while speechless I moved on the side to let him in. "I was just in an interview for a position as a tax lawyer in a law firm nearby, and I was wondering if you'd be rude enough too leave this poor crippled wannabe lawyer drive interstate by night after such a stressful day. "
- "I guess there's salad for two and... room for two in my bed." I ventured, wondering if he had been to his interview in a chair, and... well, he really looked paralysed...
- "That's a done deal then ! May I have a tour of the house ?" he asked cheerfully

Without waiting for an answer he rolled around the house, quickly first then slowly so I could follow, and then he reached the sofa in the living room and looking at me playfully, he transfer and took off his shoes. I stood there watching, almost panting... then he slid his dead legs onto the sofa, slowly, one by one, his feet dangling and even having small spasms and looked at me again.

- Care to remove your kafo and join the weak-legged club ?

My turn then ? I sat on a chair to remove my braces and put them on the side and then I let myself slowly slid from my seat and crawl to him on my right side pulling with my arms, mostly the right, my left hand curld, and pulling as I could with my right leg. I could hear him breath heavier than before looking at me. I reached the sofa and climbed slowly. He help me up and we kissed, finally.

We had sex here and there, before we even knew it. my panties were removed, I feverishly took his trousers down his dead ankles and I climbed over him. It was quick and his upper body was as muscular as I remembered.

The trip to the bathroom for a quick clean up before dinner was tender and rather new for me. He slid back in his wheelchair and helped me on his lap and we rolled there, slowly.

____

- So how was the interview ? I said after a sip of wine and a bite of chicken. I was using a glove with an embedded fork on my curled and stiff left hand to eat, a gift from my lovely neighbor that I found interesting to try out for the first time in front of Connor.

- It went very well actually, I must expect them to call me tomorrow to tell me if I have the job. The place is lovely, the position comes with quite a few advantages, and well, I quite like the city and some of its inhabitants.
- I really can't see who, I smiled.
We'd been communicating daily on skype and via mail for the last few weeks and while he'd been silent about this job opportunity, we'd been sharing a lot about each other and liking every bit of it.
-"Tell me, did you go in a wheelchair ?"
- "As a matter of fact, yes I did. I left it in the car but I came with a knee brace and said I busted my knees while playing squash. They don't have a problem with disability anyway, their office is fully accessible. I guess that if I have the job my poor knee will never fully heal..."
- "What a shame." I smiled. "I really hope for the sake of your knee and for the quietness of my daily life that you don't get the job."
-"Oh talking about pretending in the work place, how is your real disabled boss doing ?"

I smiled. I had been very honest about my crush on Emma, and he was very excited about it, even though I made it clear that if something happened between me and her, he wouldn't be a guest at the party.

Still the odd lady was sparking interest in him. Something about her worsening hemiplegia.
Lately her right side had been acting up even more, she couldn't keep her head straight with a minerva, her left shoulder was dropping and she was wearing a back brace. Her right-hand was curled and she could not lift it anymore and her foot was beginning to point inward. She was now coming only partime at work, dealing with most of her work from home, and in the presence of a day-care assistant. Surgery was scheduled by the end of September, and I couldn't say if she was fearing it or expecting it. A bit of both maybe. Her speech was slightly impared by now and at some point during one of our one on one meeting, she had started drooling a bit.
I used my left hand to wipe the drool at the corner of her lips, the one that seems to be getting weaker at work, even though I still use it for easy movements and don't wear a strap of a brace to  support it. She kissed it. I stood up slowly from my chair and raised, helping myself on the table. Dragging my left leg,I made my way to her wheelchair and kissed her lips. again. Again the heat and again her weak hand trying to make its way to my chest. I had to put it there this time, and I rubbed it against my hardening nipple.

It was a week before Connor's suprise visit and since then we had a one on one meeting early every morning in her closed office.  No word exchanged, just a painfully nice foreplay, that couldn't go further, because so far, kissing her dead hand, carressing her weak foot and feeling her clumsy fingers pinching my nipples were the best we would master without dying of pleasure.

Maybe one day, something more would happen. Or maybe she'd get fixed and I'd be the one whose hand she'll take to have it travel all over her slender body.

In the meantine, Connor was looking at me, amused.

"So, by the way. I went to see Adam after the interview, he'll drop by on friday evening and bring a DonJoy IROM Brace.  Do you have underarm crutches ? Because ou will have ACL surgery on friday evening, maybe call off your monday for good measure, and then well... If you really had ACL, you'd be able to move your knee in a passive motion machine thingie a few hours a day, but in your case I'm afraid it will be two weeks straight in a locked knee brace, and considering how weak your ankle is, you can't bear any weight on that leg for a while. There's no way to say if your knee is ever gonna recover from this lovely 3 weeks treatment. But you'll avoid the dreaded fullleg cast. And I'll help you with your shower."

I took a very long sip from my glass of wine.

One step beyond

The wonderful trip with Abigail and Adam, if needed be, had proven me once again that I was not making a mistake by "improving" my disability. I needed to go further and rather quickly.
The aim was no more to fake but to make sure that with time I would be truly disabled. This option seemed the right one and, after all, my body was already following this path.

I made a try on the morning following my return, I tried to step out of my bed without any help. My left ankle failed me. My knee flinched too. It had begun. I grabbed my walker and made my way to my special storage place. The one with the KAFO braces. I took out the left one. Placed it. I also put an ankle brace on my right leg. With some reluctance though. There was one thing I wanted to try before losing power in my right leg. Although I needed to wait for the next trip with Adam and Abigail.

I removed the right brace and decided that I would rather work at amplifiying the weaknesss in my left leg.

There was a number of way.

Injections of some sorts, Adam had mentionned it, but I was rather reluctant to the idea. Too risky, and I love feeling my legs, I want them weak, not insensitive.

Breaking it. That'd be violent, and dangerous. And I wasn't that desperate to risk scarring and pain.

Not using it at all for a long time. This would require either a wheelchair or a non-weight bearing long-leg cast or both. The idea wasn't the most pleasing, but by far the most doable. I would speak to Abigail about the possibility. In the meantime, I needed to get ready for work.

Maybe Emma would be back.

After my small sexual escapade during the weekend, my heated encounter with her seemed like an unlikely dream. But still I was curious to see how she would react to a KAFO brace and my now almost constant use of two forearm crutches.

And I was curious about her own state. Hoping that she was not hurting anymore of course, but still somehow hoping to see her limp at work, in her strict skirt and reasonnable shoes, with a pair of slick aluminium crutches.


I was not to be disappointed.

Emma was back, though not the way was expecting her to be. The buzz of her electric wheelchair in the hall was to become a familiar sound in the office. And her slim figure strapped stiff in it, with her back brace popping out of her blouse, maintaining her chin up, was going to be a common sight.

Her sprained ankles had healed, but she couldn't start physical therapy yet. She really had what seemed  like a slipped disc and the doctors were adamant that she shouldn't walk or move her back and neck until they had devised a way to surgically fix her. But since she was feeling fine, she didn't see why she should stay at home. I couldn't agree more and I couldn't stop looking at her. At how she was doing her best to remain as still as possible and avoid moving. She didn't really need straps to sit in her wheelchair, but she still had one large one under her breasts and one over her legs.

Our first encounter was a tad awkard. Seeing her helpless in a chair, yet so straight and seemingly at ease made me feel very warm and fuzzy.

She congratulated me on my tan and my dress, I enquired politely about her health, and couldn't help looking at her left hand, resting on the chair commands. Emma is right-handed.  Her right hand was on her lap, wrist bent and fingers curled.

- My right arm has been acting up since the accident, she said, following my eyes. Doctors think it's because of my back. Some kind of semi-paralysis.

- I'm sure they'll fix this, I said nicely. All the while hoping they wouldn't, because all I wanted at the moment was to feel this thin, pale and weak hand travelling slowly on my breasts.

I do not know how insincere I sounded, but Emma smiled softly and redirected the conversation toward professional topics. We had two weeks worth of files to go through and she was counting on me to help for the rest of the day.

I came back home exhausted, and in need of sex like I never had been before. I'd never thought to be so aroused by a woman. While seeing a female in a wheelchair was interesting because it was reflecting a state that I wished to attain, being aroused by Emma was something else altogether.

Nothing had happened, not a single word went beyond purely professional conversation, but the sexual tension was there. We simply didn't know what to do with it. After all, she was a broken doll in a wheelchair, and my hands where always on the handles of my crutches.

I needed to have her over at my house. Soon. I wanted to have her over at my house before any surgery, or any cure for her ailment, and I wanted to make love to her in her wheelchair. How ?  Not a clue. But i'd find out.

Connor had managed with me in a brace. I could do it again.

Connor.

An e-mail from him had just popped up. I slid into my sofa, eased my left leg onto it, then my right. Grabbed my computer and opened the message entitled "The bar exam."

A Trip to Wonderland - Part 3

The afternoon was spent in a general state of bliss.

First we made our way to the swimming pool at the back of the hotel. Adam settled Abigail under an umbrella with a fresh drink (with a straw of course) and went for a swim. I slowly and carefully sat down on a transat. It was awkward because I couldn't use my left arm and my back couldn't bend at all, but I finally managed without ending up on the floor.
It was odd, basking in the sun, feeling all my limbs stiffened by the carbon and metal of the braces.

- So, what about that nice waiter ?  Are you planning on inviting him in your room tonight ?
- To be honest, I had never thought about having sex when I came here. I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my story straight. What if I... move too much ?
Abigail laughed slowly.
- Believe me, once you get in the mood, you just behave accordingly. 
- Are you going to have sex with Adam tonight ?
- Certainly. In very slow motion.

I tried not to picture it. The fake pregnant belly was disturbing me. She saw my pout.

- I don't like it much either you know, I'd rather think I've put up on weight because I was so active before the accident. Even though it was easier when I was only 5 months pregnant. But that's Adam's thing. I wonder what turns Trevor on. The way your cleavage is enhanced by the back brace ?
- If I ever find out, I'll let you know. Maybe he just want to play a prank on me and have a laugh later at how he stood up a crippled thirty-something fat chick ? 
- You have no faith in humanity, darling.
I sighted. I was getting mixed feeling about this adventure now. Connor was cute, he was tall, had a slender body and seemed strong and powerful, he had that general relaxed yet classy appareance and sweet bubbly brown eyes. He had a deep voiceand didn't seem stupid, but to be sure I would have to...
Oh the hell with it, I had the afternoon left to think of a smart way to reply to his invitation.

**

When Adam was done with the swimming pool he changed up and we dropped by the bedroom, I got back into the wheelchair and got rid of my leg braces. We were going to the village down the road. It was my first real trip out in a state that would soon be permanent and for a while Connor and Emma were obliterated from my thoughts. It was all about me.

Of course, Abigail attracted most of the attention, her alanguished body, her enormous belly with those two wrapped stumps popping out under it. Adam dotting on her was sight too, and certainly made some female passers-by jealous. I was tagging along, generaly enjoying every bump in the road and the littlest struggles. Once again I couldn't help notice how I was really losing control over my left leg, particularly the ankle. My foot was regularly turning at an odd angle and each time I had to manually put it back correctly. The third time I gave up, I simply thightened the strap over my thighs so my leg wouldn't slip more.
I made a mental not to try something I hadn't tried in month. Walk without any assistive device. I might be in for a surprise.

Before long it was time to go back to the hotel, Abigail was getting rather tired and the back of her wheelchair was filled with shopping bags full of farm grown delicacies and natural products.

It was decided that we would have dinner in our own rooms. Adam and Abigail certainly wanted some intimacy, and I needed to decide what to do with my potential date.

I started with the minibar. (those small bottles are hell to open with one valid hand only) and finally got to my phone.

"I'll put up a do not disturb sign on my door at 9pm. Room 653. Feel free to ignore it. Jodie"

I the ordered an assortment of club sandwiches for my dinner and took off my arm brace, my clothes and my back brace. I rolled to the bathroom and transfered in the shower... It felt like heaven. The back brace had been more straining than I had thought.

**

At 9,  I was sitting back in my wheelchair with only my back brace and a lacy night dress. My bare feet were resting on the foot pads, limp and useless, my left ankle bent in a rather awkard way. My left arm was simply in a sling and a single strap under my breasts was keeping me safe in my chair.

At 9.05 a slight knock took me out of my semi-dreamy, semi-anxious state, I slowly rolled to the door and cracked it opened.

Connor had changed from his waiter attire to a pair of worn out jeans and a rather slim fit t-shirt showing a slim yet muscular upper body. He had a single rose in his hand and a devastating smile.

I was lost for words, but he made up for it.

"You're..."

Well, he tried...

"So are you. " I answered, taking the rose with my valid hand and putting it on my laps. I rolled slowly back near the bed. He closed the door and followed me. There was no need for words after all. He took the rose and nonchalantely dropped it on the bedside table and, kneeling on front of me, his hands traveled back on my legs. He stroke them, the knees, then the calves and he finally took my left foot. I shivered.

- Can you feel ?
- Very well.
- Good, I wouldn't want you to get bored, he smiled and he started kissing my left ankle.

I was breathless when he lifted my dress up and when his hands and lips started going up. I was still strapped to my wheelchair and I couldn't even bend my head to look at him. My valid hand looked for his dark wavy hair and I caressed them. His lips travelled to my thighs and he started slowly parting my legs. And brutally, he stopped and stood up, quite red in the face.

- I'm sorry, I didn't even ask you if you wanted to go in bed. I can help you in.
- You actually did not even ask me if I wanted to...
- I'm sorry.
- ... Kiss your lips first... I finished with a smile. Don't worry, We both want the same thing.
He smile and bent down to me, I felt his warm lips against mine and his fingers traveled on my breasts, traveling under the sling. He released the strap holding me to my chair.
- Can you stand alone, he murmured or shall I lift you to the bed ?
- Simply help me transfer, I breathed, surprised myself at the erotic dimension of having a helper for such a simple action.

I placed the wheelchair the best I could and he moved my legs on the bed. He bent down and I put my valid arm around his neck. In a swift move I was on the bed, sitting against the pillow, and his lips again where all over me.
I managed a few seconds to get rid of my sling and the way my hand was curled seemed to excite him a lot. I started stroking his chest with it, sliding it under the T-shirt. He took it off with a moan.
Managing a buttoned jean with only one hand was hard, but I managed and seing how he was getting excited, I started stroking slowly his fully blown dick with my left hand. As awkwardly as I could.
The back brace in this case was both a bother and a real turn on. I was stuck in a very stiff position, unable to see exactly was I was doing and with very little movement. Totally dependant on Connor's actions. I was on top of me, naked now, and enjoying my hand job while his own  hands where unlacing my cleavage and travelling along the front of my brace. He had expert fingers.
Soon he slowly parted from me to put a condom on and came back. He asked me if I was confortable and parted my legs.

The sensation of him going inside me drove me insane, for a second I felt like moving along with him, but the back brace prevented me from doing it, so I layed there, eyed closed, carressing him when I could. Everytime my left hand would touch him I could hear him breath louder, faster. I'm not sure how long it lasted but I came twice.  In a way I had never came before.
And finally he came too, and laid for a while at my side. I couln't turn my head but I could feel his stare. And he kissed my cheek and got up to the bathroom.

And off he goes I thought bitterly.

But I was wrong.

He came back and asked me if I wanted to freshen up a bit.
- Before the second round, he smiled.
I agreed and asked for my crutches.
- Don't you need your braces ?
- I can deal with few steps without them.
He helped me secure the straps on my forearms and help me up. It was a lot harder than I had tought. My left ankle was really gone and I finally ended up dragging my foot behind.
I felt his stare all the way to the bathroom, it was pleasant. And on the way back, I could see him getting harder at each of my clumsy steps.

He barely let me time to unstrap my crutches.

**

I woke up to an empty bed. I was lying on my back, legs slightly propped up on a pillow, my arm secured again in the sling, exactly the way Connor had put me before lying next to me. We'd fallen asleep after hours of sex and some small talk.

After a little effort I managed to turn on my side and found Connor. He was only wearing his jeans and was sitting in my wheelchair, deep in his thoughts.
Actually he was not only sitting. He was using the wheelchair, like a paraplegic. He looked like he had no control over his lower body,  slightly slouching, his toes pointed inward.
I could easily picture him in a manual wheechair. Sex would be even more different if he was also a paraplegic. I found the idea worth toying with.

- Oh you're awake. He said. I ordered breakfast in 20 minutes. I hope you don't mind ? 
- Not if you help me out. Breakfast in bed with only one arm is not he easiest thing.
- Oh sure. He smiled.
- Can you fetch my crutches ? I smiled, Apparently, you need my wheelchair more than me.

Connor looked pensive again.
- I know your girlfriend is faking her condition.  It's quite obvious when you look closely. What about you ? I'm on the fence. If you do, you're good.

I took the info in. He had known. Like Abigaïl. Or was it that all pretenders could somehow sniff each other out ? Because obviously, Connor had his own BIID issues.

- Well, I fake so well that it's becoming real. If we meet again in a few months, I may not be able to stand alone unassisted.

- I hope we'll meet again before that. He sighed. I felt aroused again looking at him, all limp in the chair. Quite unexpected.  If disabled women were somehow a turn on, I'd never given a second tought about a guy in a wheelchair.

He left the chair when room service rang, we had breakfast and he left at nine. Not without the promise of keeping in touch.

What a night.

I joined Abigail and  in the lobby  at 10. We went for a last stroll in the hotel park. Adam seemed elated. Abigail tired. I was deep in my thoughts, happy to be in the wheelchair, because at the moment, I'd rather be reminiscing about my night than concentrating on each small step.

The trip back home was quiet. We stopped by Adam's store to get back to our normal disabilities, and when he dropped me in front of my accessible house, with my tripod cane and my small suitcase, I knew for sure what I wanted.

There was no place for doubt anymore, my future was made of braces, wheelchairs and wonderful sex.