The Dominatrix    By ParaGirl


     "Kiss my foot."


     "Yes, Mistress Trisha."  Ken knelt before the voluptous

redhead and lifted a smooth, limp foot from the wheelchair

footrest and kissed the nylon-covered toes.  He looked up at

Mistress Trisha, sitting there, short leather skirt, skimpy

bustier which showed off her large, perfect breasts so well, and

the wheelchair she was confined to.


     "Put my foot down now.  Stand up and massage my shoulders."


     "Yes, Mistress Trisha." Was all he could say.  He gently

put her delicate, crippled foot back into the footrest and

stood, walking around her and began kneading her bare shoulders.

 He felt her silken hair caress his hands as she rolled her

head, felt the muscles of her shoulders, strong from pushing

herself in the wheelchair for so long.  she leaned far forward

in the wheelchair, almost grabbing her ankles.


     "Lower, rub my back lower." 


     "Yes, Mistress Trisha."  He immidiately began rubbing as

low as he could reach, and just as immidaitely heard the

reprimand he was hoping for.


     "Not that low!  I can't feel that, you know that I can't

feel anything that low!  Rub higher right now, or else!"


      "Yes Mistress Trisha, I'm sorry mistress."  He began

rubbing the small of her back and higher as she leaned forward.

The silky feeling of the bustier was nice against his skin.  She

was so beautiful to him, wheelchair or no wheechair.


     "Take off my top."  Mistress Trisha commanded, and Ken

unzipped the sleek garment.  Mistress Trisha leaned back and

raised her arms as he slid it up and off of her.  He stared at

her smooth, bare back, every inch perfect.  He was shaking,

anticipating her next want, her next need, her next command.


     "Kneel in front of me."  She said.  Ken knelt before her

again, this time sideways.  He watched as she lifted one of her

sexy, crippled legs and set it on his back, using him as a

footrest.  She did the same with the other leg, and he could

feel them on his naked back, so warm and soft, he felt the

nylons, smooth against him.  He knelt there, still, looking at

her as she sat in her wheelchair, rubbing her legs, almost as if

she could feel them, or at least feel what it did to him.  She

rubbed her breasts, caressing them.  As he watched her, she

looked down at him, prostrate before her on the floor, totally

in her power, and she licked her index finger and began to rub

her nipple for him.  He was breathing heavy, watching her,

seeing her erect nipples, her thin, limp legs in their dark

opaque stockings.  He was in heaven.


     "Now, get up.  And don't you dare let my legs fall,

either."  Mistress Trisha said to him.  He moved slowly to a

more balanced position, so he could get his arms free.  he could

feel the lifeless legs rolling and flopping on his back as he

moved.  With a practiced motion, Ken rolled back and to the

side, reaching up with both arms, so that at the end of the

fluid movement he was kneeling on one knee with Mistress

Trishas' crippled legs cradled in his arms.  For the first time

of the evening, Mistress Trisha smiled.


     "Very good, slave, you show great promise.  You have earned

yourself a reward.  Put my legs back down, now."


     Ken carefully, almost ritually placed her limp legs back

into the legrests, stealing a caress of her paralyzed calfs as

he did.  She didn't seem to notice, but with Mistress Trisha,

you never knew.


     "Take me into the bedroom now, slave"  Mistress Trisha

commanded.  Ken took hold of the handles on the wheelchair and

pushed Mistress Trisha into her bedroom.  He saw the bed, king

sized, covered with luxurious satin sheets. Laying on the bed

was a leather outfit, and sitting on the floor was what appeard

to be boots of some sort. 


     "Put me on the bed."  she said.  Ken lifted her gently from

her wheelchair, exhilarated at the feel of her legs.  He laid

her down on the sheets and stood there.


     "Now, take off my skirt.  Slowly, do it slowly slave."


     Ken unzipped the short skirt and slowly, carefully slid it

down Mistress Trishas paralyzed legs.  The look, the feel of her

handicapped legs, thin, weak, limp, totally useless, yet they

held him captivated, he would do anything for this paralyzed

girl.  She lay there in black panties and stockings, her legs

looking a bit crooked, uneven in some way.  Ken felt lightheaded.


     "Now, the corset slave."  Ken held the corset, it was black

leather, rigid ribs and laces, the cups for the breasts cut out

in large semi-circles.  He helped her to sit up and wrapped the

corset around her tightly.  He began lacing it up, staring at

her breasts, her beautiful legs.  It was an amazing sight to be

sure!  She sat there, the corset laced and tied off, her fresh

rosy breasts rolling out.  She was again rubbing her legs for

him, and she lifted one of them up, her foot flopping over, toes

curled over just so.


     "Now your special reward, slave."  Mistress Trisha said

with glee.  "Put me back into my wheelchair."  Ken lifted her

again, placing her carefully into her wheelchair, placing her

legs just right in the legrests.  He didn't know what to expect



     "Allright slave.  The boots.  Put them on me."


     "Yes Mistress Trisha."  Ken's hands were shaking as he

lifted the first boot.  It was amazing, polished leather, a

severe stiletto heel, probably six inches.  They apparently

laced up the back, and looked like they would go all the way up

to her crotch.


     "This is especially for you, slave, so take your time,

savor dressing your mistress."


     Ken lifted Mistress Trisha's leg and started to slide the

boot on.  He ttok his time, feeling the softness of her leg, the

lack of muscle tone from bieng crippled for so long.  The sleek

leather slid up over the stocking, up over her knee, almost all

the way to her crotch.  Ken smoothed out the bottom of the boot,

making sure Mistress Trishas' delicate foot was inside and not

twisted, because she couldn't feel it if it was placed in the

boot wrong.  He realized he had a bit of a problem when it came

to lacing up the boot, though.  The laces were on the back of

the boot, and with Mistress Trisha sitting in her wheelchair, he

couldn't get to them properly.


     "Don't worry about the laces for right now, slave, just put

the other boot on."


     Ken eased her leg back into the legrest, it now looking

much different with the stiletto heel.  He lifted the other leg

and eased the other boot on, smoothing it up and making sure her

foot was not hurt.  He eased her other leg into it's legrest, so

now Mistress Trishas' paralyzed legs wer covered in sleek shiny

leather, the heels on the boots making her legs twist inward in

the wheelchair, a very sexy look for Ken.


     "Allright now, slave, put me back on the bed."


     Ken lifted her again and eased her down on her bed.


     "Roll me over, onto my stomach now."  Mistress Trisha said.

 Ken rolled her over, starting at her shoulders and her waist,

watching her legs twist as she rolled, until they flopped over



     "Straighten them out for me, slave."  Ken did as he was

told, moving Mistress Trishas' legs and straightening them,

feeling their weight as he moved them. 


     "Now, finish lacing the boots, slave."


     "As you wish, Mistress Trisha."  Ken replied.  He gripped

the lace of the first boot, pulling it tight, tying it off

tightly.  He did the same for the second boot, tightly lacing it

around Mistress Trishas' crippled leg.


     "Now turn me over again, have a look"  Mistress Trisha

commanded.  Ken rolled her over again, straightening her legs

before her.  She sat up, propping herself up on her elbows, her

hands caressing her breasts again, her long red hair cascading

down behind her, and her legs, her beautiful, paralyzed legs

wrapped in the sleek leather, toes turned in. 


     "Put me back in my wheelchair now, slave."  Ken lifted her

again, easing her into her wheelchair."


     "Cross my legs for me, slave."


     "As you wish, Mistress Trisha."  Ken lifted one paralyzed

leg and placed it over the other.  Mistress Trisha wheeled

herself around the room, parading for him, her breasts and legs

more than even Ken could handle.  Then she wheeled up in front

of him and grabbed hold of his crotch, looking up at him from

her chair.


     "So what ARE you waiting for Ken?  An engraved invitation?"


     "Trisha, you can be such a tease somtimes!  These little

games WILL be the death of me yet!"


     "It's only because I love you, Kenny.  Now help me into bed

before we both die of overexcitement!"


     "As You wish, lover."  Ken again helped her out of her

wheelchair and into their bed, unlacing the corset as he did...




The End


(For you, at least...)