My Sugar Daddy With a Twist. Part 4

Part 4

I sat back, my hand drifting to my lower left leg and ankle, fingers pressing into the soft flesh, rubbing the bone as I considered my next move. The boundaries were being pushed, both physically and emotionally. Would I proceed to the meeting, to the application of the leg cast? Or would I call him, demand another conversation, and re-establish the rules of our sexual game?

My fingers trailed higher, brushing against the hem of my skirt, the fabric soft against my skin. The thrill of danger, of surrender, was intoxicating. But so was the power of refusal. I leaned back, my legs crossed, one hand resting lightly on my knee, the other reaching for my phone. The screen lit up with his name, and I hesitated, my breath shallow, my pulse quickening.

The decision was mine. And whatever I chose, the game would never be the same. I leaned back against the couch, my skirt riding up just enough to tease the air against my thighs. The apartment was too quiet. My fingers drifting downward, tracing the inside of my knee with slow, deliberate circles. What would it feel like to be in a real cast? 

The question burned through me, a live wire under my skin. Not just the cast, the control. The way he’d talk to me while I was trapped in it. A whimper escaped my lips before I could stop it, my fingers inching higher, brushing against the damp heat between my legs. I bit my lip hard.

A text came in “Do you accept?  Or are you still pretending you’re in charge?"

The challenge in his words sent a jolt through me, my hips lifting involuntarily as my fingers finally slipped beneath the lace of my panties. I was soaked, the proof of my betrayal slick against my skin as I dragged a fingertip through my folds, the pleasure sharp and electric. 

Another message…"I’ll start with your legs spread, that pink cast propped up so you can’t close them. I’ll lick you until you’re begging, until your thighs are shaking and your voice is raw from screaming my name. And when you cummm…" 

With that image, my back was arching as I finally gave in, my fingers circling my clitoris with frantic, needy strokes. My free hand grabbing and twisting my left foot and ankle…Bending it inward…

Another message….” I will double to $50,000 for that evening… on one condition…”

My fingers worked me over the edge, my body shuddering as the orgasm tore through me while I read his condition.

"The cast stays on your leg the entire night. Not a single moment of weight-bearing. If it touches the floor…even only once…the deal is void. No payment. Free evening for me"

A shiver ran through me.

I stood keeping my left foot off the floor and I imagined it already the cool pink cast against my skin, the rigid bondage device locking my ankle and lower leg in place. The way it would force me to move differently, to rely on the crutches, to surrender my usual grace for something far more vulnerable.

And the money. Double.  $50,000 for one evening was enough to make my pulse jump and maybe even break a foot or ankle.

But the real thrill wasn’t in the $ amount. It was in the condition where my discipline, my obedience, would be measured in every step. Every shift of balance. Every time I had to stop myself from letting my pink cast drop instinctively to the ground. I bit my lip, my fingers trailing down my thigh, imagining the weight of the cast already.

"Be a good girl Vivian."

A good girl I was, the locker room smelled of antiseptic and sweat, the fluorescent lights humming overhead as I leaned against the treatment table, my bare legs dangling over the edge. Kent stood in the corner, watching, his arms crossed, silent, but his gaze burned like a brand on my long legs.

Then the cute nursing student walked in. She was short with all soft curves and sharp smiles, her scrubs clinging to her hips, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. Her name was Brandy, and she didn’t shake my hand. She kinda traced it instead, her fingers sliding up my wrist before she turned to unpack the casting supplies.

“Just below the knee, right?” I asked her but glanced at Kent.

He smiled. “Let’s see how it goes.”

Brandy knelt in front of me, her hands warm as she lifted my left foot. Her thumbs pressed into my arch, bending it slowly, and I bit back a gasp. “You’re tense,” she murmured, her breath ghosting over my skin. “Relax.”

But I couldn’t. Not when her fingers drifted higher, circling my ankle, squeezing the delicate bones. Not when she smoothed lotion up my calf, her touch lingering at the back of my knee. And certainly not when she leaned in, close enough that I felt her lips brush my inner thigh, before pressing a kiss just above my knee.

Kent’s voice cut through the haze. “You like her legs, don’t you, Brandy?” She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached for the roll of padding.

The cast started at mid foot, snug and unyielding. But then, it didn’t stop at my knee. Brandy wrapped higher, her fingers skimming my thigh, the wet cast cooling as it hardened. I tried to shift, to protest, but Kent’s hand clamped down on my shoulder.

“You agreed to the condition,” he reminded me, his voice low. “No weight on it. Ever.”

By the time she finished, my entire left leg was full leg cast, toes to thigh, in smooth, unbroken pink fiberglass. Brandy ran her palms over it, admiring her work. “So delicate,” she murmured. “Bent like this at the knee, no danger to put any weight on it at all.”

Then she helped me stand, her hands gripping my waist as I wobbled because of the heavy and long cast, my balance thrown. The crutches were an afterthought. She liked steadying me. She loved the way I had to lean into her.

And then, the uniform.

The cheerleading outfit was tighter than I expected, the fabric straining over my hips, the skirt barely grazing the top of my cast. Brandy’s fingers lingered as she zipped me up, her nails scraping my bare back. “No bra,” she noted, her thumbs brushing my hard nipples. “No panties, either.”

I stood on my crutches. The cast weighed me down. And at first Brandy’s hand settled possessively on the small of my back.

I was trapped. And God help me, I’d never been so turned on in my life.

Part 5 to come
Ashley

If you enjoyed this, an upvote really helps 💛

My stories