In the Family               By ParaGirl

 

            The elastic bandage felt warm and secure against Missy's ankle.  She wrapped it around, firmly enclosing her foot, then her ankle in one of the ACE wraps she bought at the drugstore.  She kew she was alone in the house, but it still felt wrong, there was something naughty about it.  She finished with the first bandage and looked at her ankle - the beige textured bandage surrounding her smooth white skin.  She rubbed it, wiggled her toes a little, then decided to keep going with the next bandage.  Again she wrapped, and she saw her ankle, her foot, how lower leg becoming transformed.  It made her hot, that's why it felt so naughty - she didn't understand why, but just seeing her ankle wrapped like that made her feel aroused.  She added the third and final bandage, so that her whole lower leg, from just below her knee all the way to her toes was encased in the firm bandage, and she could barely flex her ankle - that realization made her even more aroused, feeling how the bandaged immobilized her foot. 

            She put a flat tennis shoe onto her left foot, but left her bandaged right foot exposed, so she could look at it.  She stood up and balanced on her left foot, careful not to allow her 'injured' foot to touch the floor. As she took her first 'hop' forward, she felt so alive and aroused and, well, she felt like she had never really felt before in all of her 18 years.  She hopped around her room a little, always careful not to let her right foot touch the floor, and then decided to be brave and venture out into the rest of the house.  She hopped to the bathroom and used the toilet, then brushed her teeth, then hopped to the kitchen to get a soda.  She sat on the couch and turned on the TV, then brought her legs up onto the couch and set her right foot and leg on a soft set of pillows, to keep her 'injury' elevated.  She sat there, on the couch, with her heavily bandaged foot up on pillows, and began to rub herself through her panties, which quickly became soaked.  She slid her panties aside and began to rub herself more urgently, and as she sat there staring at her bandaged foot and ankle, she came with a force she had never experienced in all her masturbation fantasies.  She had tears of joy and satisfaction streaming down her face as she hopped carefully back to her bedroom, where she removed the bandages almost reverently and put them in an empty tampon box in her dresser - a place no one there would dare look, she was sure.  She put herself back together and was sitting watching TV when her mom got home with dinner.

 

            Missy was excited - she didn't remember the last time she had felt this much anticipation.  She slipped into the empty house with the large cardboard box under her arm.  Her head was swimming - how would she hide them?  What if her mom found them?  None of that mattered right now.  she hurried to her bedroom and put on a cute blue skirt and a nice tight top, and then pulled on her left stocking, smoothing it up her leg, and then put on a nice flat black patent shoe with a good stable sole.  Next, she removed the three rolls of elastic bandage from the tampon box in her drawer and began her ritual, wrapping her right foot carefully, overlapping the bandage, starting at her toes and working her way up, to just below her knee, then back down, with extra layers around her ankle.  With all three bandages she repeated the process, until her leg was wrapped firmly from her toes to her knee.  This time, she took the stocking matching the one on her left leg and began pulling it up over her right, taking special care of her 'injured' ankle.  She got her stocking on and then opened the box she had placed at the foot of her bed; two aluminum underarm crutches, disassembled and wrapped in plastic. 

            She removed the tags and plastic from the crutches and then put the crutch legs into their fitted tubes, then carefully stood.  She knew that the underarm pads must be about two inches below her armpits, she stood carefully and adjusted them to the correct height.  Missy put the crutches under her arms for the first time, took a breath, and carefully placed the rubber-stoppered feet about a foot in front of her.  She then pushed up on the hand-grabs with her arms and swung herself through the uprights, landing firmly on her 'good' left foot, her bandaged left foot held carefully up off the floor.  Missy felt a rush of exhilaration and made a few practice runs across her bedroom floor, then opened the door and crutched around the empty house, getting herself a drink, even loading the dishwasher, all while on the crutches, or at least with the crutches nearby and her bandaged foot off the floor, bearing no weight.

            She looked at the clock and realized that she had been playing longer than she had realized - he mother would be home soon, within a half hour most likely.  She hurried back to her bedroom and slid the crutches into the back of her closet - it wasn't the best place, but it was good for the short-term.  She hopped across the room and sat on her bed, then touched herself - something she had tried to refrain from doing so far.  It was like an electric shock went through her sex, and before she realized it, she was laying in bed, her ankle up on pillows, and she was cuming so hard and strong that she cried out, then quickly hoped her mother hadn't gotten home from work yet.  Desire fulfilled, she removed her stocking and then unwrapped her ankle, re-rolling the bandages and returning them to their place in her drawer.  She realized she didn't have time to change, but worried she'd look too 'formal', arousing suspicion, she slipped off her other stocking, put her flats back on, and went to wash up.  Her mom came in as Missy left the bathroom, and she said hello and went to watch more TV.  Her mom was non the wiser, and she smirked to herself.

 

            After a few outings on her new crutches, Missy wanted to try something a little new.  She came home from work with shopping bags from three different drugstores, all containing the same thing - wide elastic bandages, a dozen in total.  She got to her bedroom, checked the time, and then stripped to her underwear.  She got her crutches out, plus her original three bandages, then began opening the new bandage packages.  these dozen wraps had cost her a half a week's pay, but she knew it would be money well spent, it would be worth it. 

            She began at her ankle, as she always did, but she kept feeding the bandages up, higher up her leg, past her knee, up her thigh, almost to her panties.  As the warm pressure of the bandage reached higher, so too did her arousal - for the first time, she wondered if she would be able to contain her sexual needs until the bandaging was at least complete.  She pressed on, wrapping and re-wrapping, adding extra layers onto her knee and ankle, so they were as restricted as she could make them.  It took her almost 30 minutes, but the end result was more than she could have ever expected - her leg was bandaged in a straight position from her toes to her crotch, and she could only flex her knee a few degrees - it was help more or less straight, as she had hoped.  She took her chosen outfit from where it was folded at the head of the bed - a short skirt and tight cotton blouse, plus a single white sock.  She pulled on the blouse, then the single sock onto her 'good' foot, then stood up and pulled the skirt on and straightened it. She looked down - her bandaged leg looked amazing, and she really could barely use it.  Missy was lightheaded with excitement as she pulled her crutches under her arms and began taking tentative test steps with her new configuration. 

            Walking like this was more difficult, because she had to be extra mindful of her heavy and stiff right leg, and had to keep it out in front of her as she walked to avoid touching the ground with it.  Her first trip was to the bathroom, where she encountered her first issue - how to use the toilet when she could barely use or move her leg?  She dropped her panties to the floor and raised her skirt, and carefully lowered herself onto the set, using only her left leg and one crutch for support.  he made it fine and as she peed, she felt a certain sense of personal accomplishment - she felt extremely accomplished having completed this normally mundane task in her current 'condition'. 

            Missy washed her hands (still somewhat tricky on crutches) and then proceeded to do other chores around the house - she straightened up the living room, then loaded the dishwasher; to do this now, she grouped all the dirty dishes onto the counter over the washer, then loaded it from a seated position with her leg elevated, as she figured out she couldn't really band down to load the lower trays effectively.  This was very exciting to Missy, actually having to adapt her normal routine to account for her 'handicap'. She finished the dishes and wanted to do more, but again it was close to the time her mother would be getting home, and her current situation would be time consuming to get out of, now with a total of 15 bandages covering her entire leg.

            She crutched to the bedroom and hid the crutches, then began removing the bandages, one by one.  It was more time consuming than she had initially anticipated, and the time grew closer and closer for her mother to return home.  She was an adult, and she could do what she wanted, but she felt embarrassed at the idea of her mother catching her like this.  Bu the last bandages, she was no longer rolling them neatly as she unwrapped, then; she was just unwinding them and tossing them aside, so that should her mother come home, they would at least be off and could be hidden under her sheets.  As the clock ticked closer, Missy felt both nervous and excited - what if her mother had come home from work early, seen her on her crutches, her bandaged leg?  The idea both terrified and excited her, something about the forbidden being more enticing...

            She got her bandages off and changed into a pair of jeans, forgot about the socks, and managed to get all the bandaged re-rolled and hidden before her mother came home, but she must have still looked flushed, as her mother asked her what she had been doing.  She absently said she was dancing in her room, and that seemed to satisfy mom for now. 

 

            A few days later, Missy was thrilled to see a note on the counter as she returned home - "I'll be home late tonight, dear- help yourself to dinner".  She had a number of hours of playtime, more than she had ever had at once.  She just needed to figure out how to do it 'right'.  The idea came as she was pulling the bandages out, and she smiled at the thought of it. 

            Again, she stripped to her underwear, and began bandaging, starting at her red-painted toes.  This time, though, after she reached the top of her thigh, she stopped.  She took a metal 'L' shaped shelf bracket out of her closet - from when she used to have her collectible shelves up - and she wrapped it in a soft cotton sock.  She fixed it against her leg, behind her knee, and began wrapping, making sure the brace stayed in place until there was an entire roll of wide elastic bandage holding it there firmly.  From that point, she finished wrapping her entire leg top to bottom, with all 15 rolls of bandage.  When she was finished, her leg was completely immobile - her knee in a fixed 90 degree position.  She tried standing and it felt incredible - her leg was, for the first time, utterly useless - even if she wanted to, she could not walk without crutches in this condition.

            She dressed carefully - first the dark pantyhose that she worked to get on over her affected leg, then the knee length red skirt, then the tight quarter-sleeve t-shirt.  She put a flat mary-jane shoe on her left foot, and for extra affect this time, put a soft black sock on over her right 'injured' foot.  She loved the look of it, and decided to stay this way as long as she possibly could. 

            First was the bathroom - she had worn panty-hose on purpose, she knew they would be more difficult to maneuver in, and she was right.  Trying to balance on her good leg and crutches, keep her bandaged leg out of trouble (not as easy as she had thought) and pull down her pantyhose and then her panties took over 5 minutes, and when she finally felt her bladder go, there was a rush of accomplishment, pride that she had managed to do it in her 'condition'.  she finished, wiped, and then went through the equally challenging process of standing up, balancing, pulling up her panties then her pantyhose, then straightening her skirt and crutching over to the sink to wash her hands.  Finally done, she crutched into the living room and began cleaning. 

            Chores in this condition, unable to use her right leg at all, it just hanging there immobile, became an even bigger challenge.  When her leg was bandaged out straight, no matter how 'good' she was, she knew she used it for balance, for support on occasion - with it locked in this flexed position, she didn't have that option at all, and it took her over a half hour just to straighten out the living room, fold the throws, arrange the pillows, put away the DVDs she had purposely left out the night before.  Finally, everything was in order, but she had two glasses - one her mothers, one her own from the previous night - that needed to get into the dish washer.  Missy thought about it, felt her balance on her good leg, and decided to try to get them both to the kitchen at the same time.  She dropped one crutch onto the couch, then picked up the glasses in her right hand, and with her left crutch, slowly, clumsily made her way into the kitchen using an alternating one-crutch and one-leg hopping motion.  She finally got the glasses into the kitchen and onto the counter, then decided to do the kitchen with just the one crutch.  She loaded the dishwasher as she had learned how earlier, by placing all the dirty dishes on the counter above the washer and then sitting down to load the washer trays.  Once loaded, Missy stood up and hop-crutched around the kitchen fixing herself some dinner - she made fries in the oven and a nice chicken cutlet sandwich, and when it was al ready, she brought her plate to the kitchen table and set her place, still on one crutch, then returned to the kitchen to get her drink.  She realized immediately she had overfilled the glass, and as she clumsily made her way to the table, she spilled a portion of the glass in sloshing splatters across the kitchen floor.  She wondered silently to herself if she could manage mopping like this. 

            Dinner, while simple, was one of the most satisfying meals of her life - she couldn't understand, couldn't explain why, but making a simple sandwich and fries with one leg useless and immobile made her joyously happy and satisfied.  She finished with her dinner and cleaned up after herself completely, putting the dinner dishes in the washer before starting it, wiping down the counters and stove - the she looked at the dark soda spots on the kitchen floor, from where she had spilled.  She decided to try it. 

            Missy first stopped in the living room to grab her second crutch, as one-crutching was getting tiring.  She then crutched her way to the hall closet where the cleaning supplies were, and pulled out the swiffer wet-mop.  She had to bend down almost to the limit of her balance to get one of the disposable heads for the swiffer, and then while balancing on her crutches, she affixed  it onto the cleaning head.  She was able to awkwardly hold the handle of the swiffer as she crutched, though she almost dropped it once.  Once she got to the kitchen, she spread out her crutches to a wider, more forward stance, and leaned her armpits onto them for support as she passed the wet mop across the floor.  It took much longer than usual, as she had to re-position herself every few swipes, but after 20 minutes she had done a very good job of cleaning the kitchen floor.  She tossed the swiffer head away in the trash and returned the cleaning unit to the closet, then retired to the living room for some TV watching.

            Missy lowered herself onto the couch and spun herself so her legs were up on it, then placed several pillows so her right leg was properly and comfortably supported.  She grabbed the TV remote and started watching TV, but she couldn't take her eyes off her bandaged leg - the way it was so much thicker than her 'good' leg, the way she couldn't move it, the way the bandages looked through the soft stocking...  She found herself slipping her fingers under her pantyhose, finding elastic waist of her cotton panties, and tracing soft lines with her fingernails, making herself squirm.  She slipped her pantyhose down to her thighs, then her panties, and switched between touching her sex and rubbing her bandaged leg, lost in the extacy of it.  It wasn't long before she came, multiple orgasms making her moan as she rubbed her clit with her fingers.  She lay back for a few minutes, needing to compose herself before she tried crutching again.  Finally, with her mother coming home in just a half hour, she made her way back to her bedroom, collapsed on her bed, and then slowly removed her bandages and the makeshift knee brace.  She had everything away and hidden and was back on the couch watching TV when her mom came home from work.  Missy offered her a smile and a hello, and went back to her reality TV show, only barely hearing her mom's compliment on how clean the kitchen was, so lost was she in her imaginary world.

 

            Missy got home the next day and was surprised to see her mom's car in the driveway.  She was crestfallen, because with her mother home there would be no playtime today, but she wasn't concerned - her mom had worked a late night the day before, maybe this was comp time.  She became a little concerned, however, when she saw her mom on the couch with two glasses of soda in front of her.  Her mom asked her to come sit down, that she wanted to talk about something.  There was no anger or concern on her mother's face - in fact, she looked very calm and even caring, but because of her current secret 'hobby', Missy overly sensitive to such a change in routine.  She sat down beside her mother and smiled, thanking her for the drink and asking what was up. 

            "Well, I wanted to talk to you, dear, and this may be awkward, but I don't want it to be - there's nothing wrong, and I'm not angry or anything like that.  In fact, I feel a little embarrassed right now knowing what I do, but this was all for your own good, OK?"

            Missy nodded - she had no idea what was coming next, but she was worried.

            "Well, it all started a few weeks ago - I noticed what I initially thought was a rash on your leg, and I was a little concerned, but when it was gone the next day, I didn't think anything of it.  Then a few nights later, I noticed it again - like a bumpy reddish rash..."

            Suddenly, out of confusion, Missy's mind clicked on the answer - wearing an ACE wrap for an hour or two would leave a pattern like that, wouldn't it...

            "Then, the day you came out of your room flushed and winded - you seemed very fishy, almost defensive.  Then I saw the 'rash' again, and realized how much more cleaning and straightening up around the house you had been doing - I grew concerned, but I was confused, also.  You have to understand, Missy - I was worried for your health..."

            "I'm fine mom, there's nothing wrong with....  what do you mean, you were worried?  Mom, what did you..."

            Missy's mother pressed 'play' on the VCR and there was Missy, in black and white, crutching around the house, cleaning the living room...

            "Mom!" Missy was embarrassed, totally mortified.

            "Missy, you have to understand, I had no idea - how could I?  I was worried it was drugs, or alcohol, or a boyfriend you were cleaning up after.  And there were the strange marks on your legs - how was I supposed to know?"

            "So, how did you - you know?  Get the footage...?"

            "The clock above the TV - it's a mini camera, used for monitoring babysitters and such."

            Above the TV - Suddenly, Missy had a terrifying revelation...

            "Mom, how much did you....?"

            "I turned it off just as you sat down after dinner - I had seen enough to know what was going on, and didn't want to...."       

            Missy was relieved.

            "Well, now what?  You going to get me therapy or something?" Missy asked, now thoroughly embarrassed, not even able to look at her mother.

            "Well, I'm going to get you help, but not exactly like you think... just know that I have no problems with you pretending as you do - especially if it means you'll keep cleaning the house like you've been doing!"

            "Mom - I, I don't understand.  You aren't freaked?"

            Missy's mother smiled and put her hand on her daughters. 

            "To be honest, it makes me a little nostalgic dear."

            Missy stared at her, totally confused.  "Mom?" was all she could say as he mother pulled out an old, 1970s era photograph and handed it to her daughter.  The image Missy was confronted with was her mother, standing in front of a full length mirror holding the camera, standing on wooden underarm crutches, wearing a mini-skirt, with one leg apparently bandaged up in a folded position, so it appeared that her mother was an amputee.  The smile on her mothers face was one that Missy recognized instantly - the same bliss she herself felt every time she got on her own crutches.  She had no idea what to say, but looked at her mother, looked again at the picture, and just started laughing, then both women hugged and sat on the couch and began talking about their apparently mutual hobby....