Crip Whipped

by Braced

WARNING: Explicit BDSM content! 

We met on the site. There was that magic spark that made your heart flutter. You waited with bated breath for that “new message” alert, refreshing every few seconds. You fell in love with my body, flawed and imperfect as it is. All my life, I hated how my body looked, but the pictures I sent you made you swoon, and to top it all off, I was just on the other side of town.

I told you a secret. A dark secret. If we were to meet, it wouldn’t be a date with steak and lobster at a fancy restaurant. It wouldn’t be a romantic stroll down the beach. I made it conditional. If you wanted this ragged, torn, gimpy body of mine, you would have to earn it. You didn’t know exactly what that meant, but the way I growled it over the phone made you tingle in ways you had never felt before.

“Wear something sexy…but make sure it’s something you don’t have too much emotional attachment to,” I ordered over the phone.

“I understand,” you said softly. Your voice made my heart melt. I had to keep my composure. I’m the one who will own you, not the other way around.

“Be here at seven. Sharpish,” I said, and hung up the phone. I waited as the hours ticked by in my apartment. Five minutes to seven, the clock on the wall read. I sat in my easy chair and strummed my fingers on the leather armrest. The clock made a click as the hour hand moved to seven. My intercom buzzer sounded.

“You’re right on time. 7C. It’s open,” I tell you over the intercom.

The lights are low, reflecting eerily on the waxed wooden floor. I see the door knob turn and the solid oak door open slowly. And there you are.

Wearing a slick, form fitting one piece dress, which showed your dark nylons, you clutch a small red purse nervously as you walk in on your black stilettos. You see me sitting in the chair, wearing jeans and a tight, slate gray t-shirt. I say nothing as you close the door behind you. Even though you’re the one who closes it, you jump at the noise it makes.

“Come in,” I say dryly.

“I…I wanted to thank you, I…I mean I never thought I’d get to meet a real disabled…”

“Shh,” I hush you with a finger to my lips. You instantly stop talking.

“The shoes. Slip out of them,” I said. You look down and step out of the high heels. Your toes nervously tap the waxed floor, vaguely obscured by your nylons. “The dress. Off.”


“Off,” I say sternly. You reluctantly comply. You stand in front of me in your black laced bra and panties, and the dark nylons which contrast so gorgeously against your skin. I put my chin in my hands and breathe deeply. I make a circle gesture with my finger. You slowly turn around, showing off your pert and athletic body.

“Shoes,” I said.

“But, I already took them off,” you whine nervously.

“Not yours. Mine. Ah, ah, crawl on your hands and knees to me. Good girl,” I say, patting your dark hair. You untie my black leather shoes and slip off the right one first. You mew in delight when you see the hardened plastic leg brace under my shoes, like a kid who discovered a present in their stocking on Christmas morning. I smile at your enamored reaction. You look up at me and I nod.

You slide your hands up my leg and undo the Velcro strap holding the brace to my leg. With the tenderness of a bomb technician handling explosives, you slowly slide the brace off my leg and hold it in your hands, admiring the craft work. It’s molded to be a copy of my leg and foot. You caress it softly with your fingers, and your pussy begins to tingle.

You repeat the exact same process with my left shoe and brace.

“Socks,” I say. I watch you run your delicate fingers up my leg, feeling for the top of my extra long sock which covers my brace. You pull it down and slowly remove my sock, until my limp, lifeless foot is free. You notice my toes are twisted, folded over each other in the middle, as if they were crossed for good luck. You remove the other sock and see the same damage to my other foot. You look up at me, looking for further instructions.

“Massage them. Worship them,” I instruct you. You take my right foot in your hand and gingerly stroke it. I feel nothing. You begin to rub my calves, the balls and arches of my feet, the toes. You massage them, kneading them like bread dough. I feel more in my left than I do in my right foot and accidentally let out a groan of satisfaction. A small smile curls up on your lips. You bring my foot to your mouth and kiss it. Then you kiss it some more. You bathe it with your tongue before finally sucking on each toe like they were little, lifeless cocks.

My foot feels cool to the touch, from the lack of blood flow. You are amazed at how still they are. If you had done this to any other guy, he’d be squirming from the tickling sensations, but I remain with my chin in my hand, looking down as you work every inch of my feet with your tongue.

“That’s good enough,” I say gently. You’re surprised by my kind tone and risk a small smile. “Follow me,” I instruct. I get up from the chair, and for the first time, you see me walk. I limp, dragging my right foot as it turns outward. A teetering wobble of a gait, you’re so transfixed, you almost forget to follow me. Almost. You feel weak in the knees and your stomach churns. I’m everything you want, and even if I wasn’t a dom, you would be putty in my hands.

I walk in the bedroom and lay down on the bed.

“No, don’t get in yet. Stand at the foot of the bed,” I order. You do as you’re told.

“The rest of it. Take it off and show me your body,” I say. You unclasp your bra, revealing your pert, perfect tits with dark, hardened nipples. I can’t help but lick my lips. You take off the nylons, revealing smooth, perfect legs. Finally, you take off your already wet panties and reveal your sex to me. I drink in your beauty. I want to be weak, to let you have me, but I stay strong. I open my nightstand drawer and toss you a pair of handcuffs. You look at me with fear in your eyes.

“Put these on your wrists, hands behind your back. You can go now. If you don’t wish to proceed, you can leave. I won’t think less of you.”

“N-no,” you say softly, “I want to.” You put the cuffs on, and I hear the crunch of the metal snapping shut on you. Your breath quickens. I see your breasts heave up and down with each breath.

“Okay then, let’s begin.”


You’ve never felt the cold steel of handcuffs on your wrists before. You’ve always been a good girl, staying out of trouble. Now, you wonder just how much trouble you’ve willingly put yourself in. It feels awkward, the loss of your arms. I now have you disabled. I see the look of fear in your eyes.

“Come here, that-a girl,” I say as you walk on your knees on the bed closer to me. I place my masculine hand under your chin. Your lips tremble slightly. I smile reassuringly and pull you close to my face. I kiss your soft lips and then our tongues explore each other’s mouths for what seems an eternity. Your hands are bound, yet you feel a strange sense of comfort in my care. I finally break away the kiss, much to your disappointment.

I look at your perfect body. No. I can’t resist any longer. I can’t just look at it. I trace my hands over your nude shoulders, on your back, feeling your velvety soft skin under my calloused and rough hands. You moan gently, for it seems I pierce your very mind and know where to touch you and how rough or how soft you like it. All you’ve done is given my feet fellatio and felt my hands down your back, but your pussy is so wet, drops are running down your thighs.

Without warning, I go from being your tender lover to your master yet again. I throw you against my bed, hard. You luckily don’t break your wrist as you fall backwards against my silken sheets. I grin wickedly as your eyes yet again show fear. Taking my rough and calloused hands, I grab your breasts and squeeze them hard. You yelp in pain and surprise. I fondle your breasts relentlessly, pulling and tugging on your hardened nipples. You squirm as I roll them between my fingers and thumb, jerking them and pinching them. I lower my face to them and suck on your nipples. You feel my warm tongue violating the little nubbins of pleasure. You feel my teeth scrape against your areolas, and I nip you gently. You squirm and you moan in pain and fear, but a growing part of you shouts in your mind.

“Don’t stop. Harder. Fuck me with your crippled body!” you hear yourself scream in your head, but all your mouth can manage are grunts and moans.

I mercifully stop fondling your perfect breasts. I have my eyes set on a bigger prize. I trace my tongue from the bottom of your breasts over your flat belly and into your belly button. You groan intensely, knowing exactly where I’m headed.

I smell your scent. Sweet, intoxicating. I spread open your legs unceremoniously and stare at your swollen labia. Your thighs shine from the sweat and your juices. I look at your eyes. Gone is the fear. Replaced with lust. You mouth unintelligibly pleas at me silently without so much as a whisper. You lick your lips and then bite your lower lip in anticipation.

I grin and say “I know what you want me to do. But…I don’t think you’ve earned that just yet.” I reach into the drawer and produce a riding crop. Your breath starts to quicken and get shallow. You shake your head no.

“How many?” I ask.


“How many strokes to your inner thighs do you think is worth me eating out your pussy?”

A look of panic washes over your face. You race numbers in your mind, afraid of angering me with too low a number and afraid of unbearable pain with too high. You blurt out, “fifteen.”

“Funny, I was going to give you ten, but I suppose I could go with fifteen.”

I run my hands up and down your thighs. You quiver and shake at my touch. “Are you ready?” I ask.

“Mm hmm,” you squeak. The first stroke is always the worst. It surprises you. You yelp in pain. I continue your punishment as you cry softly. Your thighs are red hot and marks soon appear where the crop has landed. I watch your pussy ripple and gape, contract and repeat. You like this. Hot damn, but you like this!

“Good girl,” I say, after you’re done. “You took that without screaming. Time for your reward.” I lean over your hot, pulsing sex. I lick every inch of your privates. I taste the salty sweet juice leaking out of you like a thermal spring. Your flesh is soft and gummy, and responds to my tongue’s every violation. You’ve never felt so owned and humiliated by anyone, never so turned on.

My tongue darts in and out of your pussy, and I feel it try to grasp on. I tongue-fuck you silly. I lap up your clit and then return to your vagina. As I dart in and out, my finger rapidly swishes up and down your clit, driving you over the edge. You scream more than when I was whipping the fuck out of you. My face is covered with your juices and you buck against the bed. You collapse in a pile of ecstasy and look up at me dreamily.

“If you think we’re done, pumpkin, think again. This is all just part of the warm up stage, my pet.”


I watch you recover. Your body is covered with sweat and you tremble slightly. I take out a key for the handcuffs and unbind your wrists. You look disappointed and I grin.

“Don’t worry my pet. We’ll play some more.”

“Yes, Master,” you say. It surprises and pleases me. I stroke your dark hair.

“If you want to leave, you can at any time. Just say the word “wheelchair” and I will stop and let you go.”

“I…I don’t want to go.”

“I’m glad you said that. Shall we continue your training?”

“Yes Master.”

I get three more cuffs from the drawer and cuff your wrists and ankles to the bed, spread-eagled. You’re excited and breathe fast again. I take a blindfold and cover your eyes.

“We’re going to play a game. There will be ten questions. If you get more than half right, I give you what you want, make you cum again and again and let you satisfy any dev fantasies with my body. If you fail, I punish you at my discretion. If it’s a tie…a little of both. Now, I’m going to insert a vibrating dildo in you. If you cum before the game ends, you automatically lose. Do you understand?”

“Yes Master.”

I insert the dildo in your hungry, hot pussy. You mew softly.

“Hmm don’t lose before we start, my pet. Alright, question one: What is the longest river in the world?”

“Mm the Nile,” you say licking your lips.

“Good. Second: Who was the first human in space?”

“Ohh, Yuri Gagarin,” you groan.

“Correct. Three: Water consists of what?”

“Two…two hydrogens and an oxygen, mmm oh!”

“Who was the PM of England at the end of World War II?”

“Winston Chuuuurrrrchill”

“Careful, control yourself. These questions get a bit harder. What is the capital of Australia?”


“Oh sorry, it’s Canberra,” I say and turn up the speed of the vibrator. You squirm against your binds.

“Five. Name all the planets currently recognized in our solar system.”

“Ohhhh Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune.”

“Very good. What was Mozart’s final piece?”

“What? I don’t know.”

“Oh sorry, it was his Requiem,” I said and turned it up slightly faster. You puffed and breathed out of your mouth as if you were in labor.

“Seven: Who was Fidel Castro’s right hand man?”

“Che Guevara.”

“Good. You have five right. Get one more right and you win.”

“Yes Master,” you moan.

“What level is my spinal closure?”

You have a panicked look on your face and blurt out, “L1?”

“How did you…? You win,” I said dejectedly.

I undo your bonds and remove the vibrator. You immediately hug me and say, “I will make you feel amazing.”

“Mm hmm,” I say blandly.

I’m already barefoot but you remove my shirt and lay me down on the bed. You smile as you lick my chest and nipples. I groan slightly. You undo my pants and slide them off, and then my underwear. You stare at my cock with lust. I see you lick the head and then engulf it in your mouth. You blow me expertly and I warn you that I’m about to cum. You ignore me and suck down my salty cream.

“Master, may you please flip on your belly?”


“Your spinal scar.”

I sigh and do as I’m told. I feel your hands delicately touch my spinal scar. It’s a very sensitive area for me and I shudder. I don’t see it but you bite your lip in joy. You trace your fingers down the backs of my legs, but I don’t feel it. You knew this from our conversations and it makes you hot. You finger yourself as you explore my dead areas.

“You’re so…perfect.”

You pick up my mangled feet and massage them again, playing with my toes, untwisting them. My feet are limp and floppy in your hands and you enjoy the power you have over them. But soon you tire of it and crawl over to whisper in my ear.

“Master…I know I won, but…I need to be controlled, to be punished. I’ve had my fun. I…want you to own me.”


“Hmm, what punishment should I dole out to you, little pet?”

“Anything, Master. Anything.”


“Spank me, whip me, hurt me bad.”

“Hmm. Spread-eagle, dear.”

You spread your arms and legs, and I shackle you to my bed again. You lick your lips in anticipation. I stroke your belly gently with my fingers.

“Please? Please discipline me.”

I reach into the drawer and produce a red, silicon ball gag. You open your mouth willingly and can’t help but smile. You expect me to redden your skin with whips and crops, but I have something far worse in mind. I pull out a feather and you shake your head violently.

“Don’t worry, my pet. I won’t hurt you at all. But you’ll wish that I did.”

“Mm-mm! Mm-mm!!” you urgently protest.

I get at the end of my bed and stare at your bound ankle. You’re still shaking your head.

“Koochie koochie koo…” I say as I run the feather on your sole.

You explode in laughter. I’m relentless, tickling your soles and toes without stop. You buck against the cuffs, reddening your wrists and ankles.

I switch up with my fingers, my tongue and back to the feather. I’m merciless to your sensitive feet because I can’t feel the same. You’re crying with laughter, helpless to my gentle touch. I’m as fascinated by your sensitivity as you are with the lack of mine.

I stop tickling and you still giggle long after I finish.

“Not what you expected, was it?” You shake your head to answer.

“So sensitive. So delightfully sensitive,” I say and immediately whack your sole with the crop. The sudden switch in sensations nearly makes you pass out. Whack! Whack-whack-whack-whack-whack! You scream in pain, and as suddenly as I started, I finish. I lick your flaming toes with compassion. These sudden changes confuse and excite you, and I see you’re ready again by your dripping pussy.

I place clothespins on your nipples and tug them, earning shocked yelps in your gag.

“Look at you. You’re a mess. I’m going to undo your binds and let you clean up. Will you run away from me?” You again shake your head.

I have a gift for you, I say, as I undo the cuffs. When you’re released, I snap a collar around your neck. You smile deliciously and I take out the gag.

“Thank you Master,” you say.

“You’re welcome. Now, clean up. I want you ready for the next level.”


I hear the shower finally turn off. After a few moments you come into the bedroom with only a towel around your hair. I pat the bed and you sit down on it. Without a word, I grab your shoulders, and you think I’m going to take you roughly, but instead, I work my fingers into the flesh of your shoulder blades.

“Master?” you ask with your eyes closed.

“Yes my pet?”

“Why…are you massaging me?”

“I’m not always a mean, sadistic gimp,” I say with a throaty chuckle.

I wrap my hands around your throat and gently squeeze. You moan in pleasure. “Harder, Master.”

“I’m not going to choke you,” I laugh again. I work my hands down your back and shoulders, and I feel the tension leave your body.

“You are amazing, Master.”

“I know.”

I place you face down on the bed, work your butt, legs, and feet until you’re completely relaxed. “Flip over,” I say and you immediately comply. I get a vibrator and turn it on, stimulating your nipples before moving down to your clit. You groan and moan, closing your eyes in bliss.

“Hold it back, don’t cum yet. Good girl, you can do it, hold…”

“Oh, oh Master, please? Please may I cum now?”

“Not yet. Play with your tits. Good pet.”

“Ungh oh, please, please, please!”

“Just a bit longer….okay cum now, cum now!”

“Oh! Oh!!! Ahhhhhh!!!” you scream and writhe. I keep the vibrator there, and you cum twice more in the next few minutes. I slip my finger in you, feeling the inferno of heat. You’re so exhausted that I let you sleep the rest of the night on my bed.


The next morning, I awake on my couch to the smell and sound of sizzling bacon.

“Good morning Master,” you say with a smile. You’re still naked and by the stove.

“Be careful, wouldn’t want to damage that delicate skin,” I say.

“That’s your job,” you reply with a wink.

“The collar looks good on you.”

“It feels good, Master.”

We ate breakfast of bacon and eggs with coffee. Though the feeling in my legs was limited, I knew your bare foot was stroking it. You turned red when looked at you.

“Somebody is looking for a spanking, aren’t they?”

“Yes Master!”

“On my knees. There, yes. You’ve been particularly bratty. Twenty swats.”

“Yes Master,” you say with more excitement than I wanted to hear.

“Count them out loud. Any mistakes and we start from scratch.”

“Yes sir.”

I redden your ass with my bare hands, occasionally roughly groping and squeezing your cheeks. Even though the swats are hard, you don’t break into tears, and my lap is wet from your dripping sex.

“Clean up the mess you made on me. With your tongue, of course.”

You lick my thighs and I get hard once again, but I didn’t give you permission to lick that just yet. You mind your manners and wait.

“Good girl. I hope you’re ready for a long day, my pet.”

“I am, Master. Readier than I’ve ever been.”

“We’ll see…”


I take you to another room in my place. One you’ve not seen yet. I like to call it “The Dungeon” even though it’s only a guest bedroom. Mounted from the ceiling is a heavy metal beam, from which dangles chains and straps. You seem slightly apprehensive, but you also trust me.

“You’re going to earn frequent flyer miles, my little pet,” I say with a wicked grin. You gulp hard. I attach the Velcro, padded straps to your wrist, then lower the chains from a winch to secure your ankles. Finally, a large strap is placed around your firm, smooth belly. With a ratchet lever, I slowly tighten the chains in the pulley. You feel yourself begin to lift off the ground. After a slow and creepy set of pulls on the bar, you’re ratcheted above the ground and floating horizontally.

I inspect you, giving you the once-over, making sure your bonds are tight and safe. I stand in front of you and kiss you passionately. You seem to enjoy being displayed like this for your master. Your entire body is my play thing. I search around in a box and find what I’m looking for. Nipple clamps.

I secure the clamps around your swollen and sensitive nipples. You yelp at each clamp, but close your eyes and take it like a good girl. But I’m not done with them yet. I run a small, thin chain through the clamps and attach a lead weight to them. You look at me pleadingly, but I slowly lower my hand with the weight, so it doesn’t yank you too hard. You groan and moan, squeaking and mewing when it’s finally at it’s maximum pull. I tap the weight and it slowly swings like a pendulum, sending little waves of pain in your nipples.

I lower the ratchet a bit and drop my pants. My cock is already hard from looking at your perfect body. You open your mouth hungrily, wanting my swollen member in you. I feel your hot tongue caress the shaft as you blow me with skill and love. I’m holding on to your head as you moan and making sucking noises. Just before I blow my load, I pull out and squirt it on your tortured breasts.

I insert your little friend, the vibrating dildo in your waiting pussy. And then I leave the room and turn out the lights.

“Master? Master?!!” you call out, but I’m nowhere to be found.

I’m just outside the door in the hallway, and I hear you struggle against the chains.

“Master! Please!! I’ll do anything, please don’t leave me.”


“Please, Master?” I hear you beg again.

I wait a few more minutes, but to you it’s like an eternity. I reenter the room and you seem overjoyed, like a puppy wagging her tail at her master’s return.

“Poor little thing, all trussed up and moist, like a holiday turkey. You know what every bird needs? Stuffing.”

“Yes Master,” you dutifully reply.

I get behind you and spread your legs wide. Your perfect ass is begging me to grab it. And who’s to stop me? Not you. I squeeze it. Hard. You yelp at the sudden pain.

“Shh, quiet. Or else I’ll give you something to really scream about.”

I see your pussy is dripping, literally dripping wet. Small drops have formed on the floor below you. I smile, though you cannot see me from your vantage point. I drop my pants and unceremoniously slip it inside you. You feel my cock slide in, and your body immediately responds, gripping on to it, holding on as if it’s the most important thing you’ve ever had in you, and you dare not let go.

I thrust, slowly, and you groan. “Maaaaster, yesssss.”

Your lustful groans only encourage me to pump faster and harder. You make unintelligible grunts and moans, stuttering my name with whispered breaths. I see your fingers curl around the chains attached your cuffs. Your toes splay and your belly ripples with muscles trying desperately to match my thrusts.

Hot. So hot. You are my fucking wet little furnace! I grab your ass and swing your whole body to meet my thrusts. I’m grunting like some inhuman monster, a sexual beast.

“Now, Master, cum in me, please!”

“Not yet!” I growl.

Your ass is getting blue marks from where I grip so hard. Tears of ecstasy are rolling down your cheeks and you close your eyes as the most intense orgasm yet build in you.

“Say you want it.”

“I want it!”

“Say you want my imperfect body inside your perfect body!”

“I want your fucking imperfect body to explode in my perfect body, Master!”

“Who owns this body?”


I grunt and release. It’s your cue. Your body reacts to my pleasure as your own, and you shake against the chains like a freshly caught fish out of the water. I let go of your abused ass and sigh deeply. You drop your head and are huffing and puffing for air.

“Good girl. You’ve earned a second date with me, my little pet. I’m going to release you now. But remember what you said. This body is mine.”

“Yes Master. It is.”

“Good girl.”

30 thoughts on “Crip Whipped

  1. To be completely honest, this isn’t my cup of tea. I didn’t particularly care for this story a whole lot, but it is well written, and to the writer I give kudos for that. (Sorry, I wish I liked it more, but I guess I’m just generally not much of a S&M kinda gal…)

    1. This one’s all on me, Lu5!

      I’m solely to blame for the shameless BDSM here…
      I personally requested this little story. No word of a lie.
      The poor guy never writes anything like this LOL

  2. No disrespect to the author but I couldn’t get past the first couple of paragraphs. But for the little snippets I did read I can say that as a woman I find it disgracing. I felt that she’s been raped in a way.

    1. Thank you for the feedback, Anon!

      Braced is an incredible author who would never normally write anything of this genre.
      I asked him to write a little BDSM piece…and make her a willing submissive…
      He reluctantly agreed…so please don’t judge him…

      Instead, judge me!! 😛

      1. That is the key, here — willing submissive. The story was well written and enjoyable to read. Not for everyone, granted, but well done. And, it’s a STORY. I enjoyed it.

        1. Yes, you are right on all accounts, Pepper!

          I’m not sure Braced was a willing submissive whilst writing this for me though…
          Just kidding, Braced!! You’re the bestest!!! 😛

        2. Very well written. Not my usual thing but gave it a shot. The beginning reminded me of that scene in True Lies with Jamie Lee and SchwartzenAger when they r in the hotel Shame on u for leading braced into bdsm. I’m SURE he would never have thought of it himself

    1. HAHA I felt obligated to add that warning…
      After I came to the realization that it could potentially induce a heart attack 😛

    2. There was no warning when I read it! I just came in to read and to my surprise I found myself tied up to a chair forced to read it!
      Err… Something like that… Okay, I’m hooked on the stories in here and regularly come in to check for new stuff, so I probably read it shortly after it was originally posted, without warning … To be fair, I did read the whole thing and appreciate that it is well done…

        1. Ooooohhh. Sorry, my mistake! I thought it was just the ball gag and fuzzy handcuffs that I wasn’t supposed to talk about… Wait… Uhh… Yeah. Nothing happened, just Hartmann very politely suggesting that I read the story from a comfy chair… 😉

    3. Believe me I’m not a masochistic person. If it had the worming I wouldn’t have read it.
      Also I’d like to clarify that I would’ve left the same comment if the roles were reversed or if both characters were able-bodied.

      1. Again, my apologies, anon! Rest assured that I shall include a warning for any stories of this explicit nature moving forward 😉

  3. I liked it. I’m into bdsm. I don’t prefer to be the sub but I like it when I imagine a wheeler being a Dom. He’s a bit excessive. I would want to see or read more of him being in a chair or dragging his legs around.

    However, I masturbated and orgasmed reading to it.

    I know some don’t like bdsm or having a girl be so submissive. But a Dom does what he does to pleasure the sub. And that’s what was done.

    1. Thank you so much for the candid feedback, anon!
      I know for sure that you’ve made at least one PWD very very very happy today 😉

      1. Well he made me orgasn reading it so that makes both of us happy 😉

        What can I say I prefer this Dom wheeler over the rich wheeler lol

        It’s hard knowing or telling wheelers to talk about their body. But it turns me on reading him describe his feet as “limp, lifeless”… Or “dragging my right foot…my calloused and rough hands… Her thinking “Fuck me with your crippled body!” Then reading about her exploring his “dead areas”. Idk why but those words just add to my arousal… Any dev feel like that? Very few wheelers I’ve spoken with know those push my dev buttons.

  4. This story was great, thank you so much for writing and posting!! I always appreciate reading new genres of writing, thank you for opening my eyes to the world of BDSM with a wheeler, kudos to the fabulous author! I love this website and eagerly check for any new stories and updates involving any writing style, I look forward to seeing stories from authors of all backgrounds and to see there diverse personalities come to life through their characters!!

    1. Thank you so much for the feedback, anon!

      Yes, I absolutely love the fluid way in which Braced writes!!
      And I’m thrilled to have different writing styles and genres on the site!
      Soooo happy that you’re enjoying! 😀

  5. BDSM is not generally what I look for to read… unless it’s written like this! I guess all I needed was an actually sexy guy to make it a hot read for me lol. That and the writing is superb 🙂 Thanks for coercing this out of the author, hartmann, this dev is very satisfied 🙂

    1. Oh, Clair D!
      You just gave that sexy guy a heart attack and sent him to heaven!!
      I shall continue to strong-arm Braced into writing more. Grrrrrr 😛

      Thank you!!!

  6. Wow!
    I’m not into BDSM in real life but reading this story made me horny like hell.
    I liked it much more than most of the sticky sweet stories.
    Very well done – thank you for writing it down.

    1. Yay! I am delighted that you liked the story!! And I’m sure that Braced is mighty flattered as well 😉

      Since I’m guilty of writing the sticky sweet stories…
      I shall try to squeeze a few more kinky ones outta him… 😛

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