Secluded House - Cover

Secluded House

Copyright© 2007 by Heel

Chapter 6: The Truth

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 6: The Truth - A flat tire turned Tiffany's life upside down for good.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including BDSM   Doctor/Nurse   Foot Fetish   Leg Fetish  

It was almost dark when I woke up. The shadows in the room convinced me that the sun was setting, not rising. I became aware that I had to go to the bathroom. I reached out to switch on the light. Too far away. Holding the cast around the knee portion, I lifted it up, then pulled it out of the sling. The cast was heavier than I expected. Swinging sideways, I lowered it down on the floor. Sharp pain stabbed me. I let out a cry. Steven came immediately.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he turned on the light.

"I... I need to go to the bathroom."

Without hesitation, he carried me there and placed me on the seat. To my surprise, he had fetched a footstool to rest my casted leg on. So kind.

"Do you need more help?" Steven asked.

"I can pull the panties down myself, thank you."

"Sorry."

"Steven, I am somewhat edgy lately. But I didn't mean to offend you."

"I understand," he squeezed my left palm delicately. "Call me when you are ready!" he said and left.

As I finished, Steven carried me back.

"The next time I will use the crutches. I promise."

"As you please. It's up to you. I don't mind helping you. Your broken leg has to be elevated most of the time. By the way, how is the sprained ankle?"

"Fine."

Steven removed the dressing. The swelling was almost gone. After examining it, he tightly bandaged it anew.

"Let's adjust the crutches," he said.

I noticed the green clogs near the bed.

"The right one is useless," I said.

"Just temporarily," Steven answered.

Then he slipped the left shoe on my foot and helped me stand up, putting his arm round my waist. I winced as the blood rushed down my shattered leg. Balancing on my almost good leg precariously, I writhed with pain. The room swam before my eyes. In this moment, I realized how helpless I was. Steven's grip got stronger.

"I'm holding you," he assured me." It's normal. The pain will abate in a minute."

He turned out to be right. After I felt better, he handed me the crutches. I propped myself on them. They were just a bit long for me. Or maybe I am rather short for them. At this thought, I could not help laughing.

"What?"

"Nothing. You have to adjust the length!" I announced.

"At your service."

When Steven did it, I took few tentative steps. He gave me some crutching tips and in the meantime changed the sheets. They were spattered with plaster. As I was crutching cautiously, my casted toes were just an inch off the floor, swaying gently back and forth. The clog on my left foot was raising me just enough to make the crutching possible. I was upright, supported on crutches for no more than five minutes. In spite of that, the pain intensified unbearably. It gnawed at my leg. Oh gosh!

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