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Here's one for you. I sent it about a week ago, but maybe to the wrong box. It is a bracing story--no sexual content. More later...
Hi, my name is Donna. I have stumbled onto this section of stories and I have one of my own to share with you. It is a little different from the others, but then each of us is unique anyway.
When I was ten years old, I had a bad fall from a tree. Now you know I was somewhat of a tomboy. I broke my left leg and also did some damage to my back. All you really need to know for this story is that everything healed up pretty well, but as I grew, my left leg did not. The result is that my left leg is about three inches shorter than my right, and my leg muscles never fully developed on that side. When you accommodate for the length differential, it's almost as strong as my right leg, but it has always been, well, a lot skinnier.
Can you imagine being a teenage girl with a leg that much shorter than the other, and legs that really don't match at all? Before you say, "Yeah, cool" I must tell you that for me it was hell. Three inches is such a difference that all my shoes had to be built up three inches, which means that the soles don't flex like regular shoes, and they are difficult to walk in without a limp. Regardless of what you think, it was ugly to me.
When I went off to college, I met a guy who admitted to me that he liked the fact that my leg was shorter. I didn't know what to think at first, but the more I thought about it, the better I liked it. The first time we went to the beach and I walked bare footed, it really turned him on, so I decided to try other little things. Without the lift, a three-inch difference means that I limp very severely when I walk, even when trying to walk on tiptoe on the left side. He loved it!
On our next date, I wore regular high heels without a lift, and he just about lost it when we went out for dinner. My limp was terrible--it's difficult to stand on your tiptoe when already in heels--, and he loved how it looked. My left heel was always getting caught on something or scraping the floor, or I just misjudged where the floor was and my shoe slapped the floor with a thud. He told me he really liked high heels and suggested that I wear two heels of different heights. What a great idea! I ordered the shoes (I had to get two pairs) from a fetish shoe service: A four inch spike on my right, and a seven-incher on the left with a two-inch platform. It was so good that I ordered more just like them in different colors and styles.
One day I was picking up a sneaker at my orthototist's with the standard three-inch lift, when I had an idea. Jack, the young orthotist with whom I have flirted for years, was doing the final fitting, and I asked him if he had any legbraces that might fit me. After the initial shock, he admitted that it would not be much trouble to come up with one for me, and that he would even install some channels in some shoes for me.
A few days later the shoes and brace were ready. I had chosen my pair of sneakers with the traditional clunky three inches of extra sole on the left one, and a new pair of heels featuring sort of chunky heels, originally three inches. Jack added one inch of platform and heel extension to the left one, which left my short leg still two inches shorter than the right one to give me what Jack called "The classic polio limp.". They were great.
Jack insisted that I try them on. For some reason I was suspicious that his curiosity went farther than mere artistic concerns. Of course he had the brace on the high heel already, and when I put them on, the feeling was fantastic. I left in the brace.
When my boyfriend arrived to pick me up for dinner, I was wearing a very short skirt and the brace with the high heels. He loved it. The effect was dramatic. My skinny leg really looked crippled in the brace, and the built up high heel with the platform gave me a really erotic walk. I left the knee locked so I had to drag my "crippled" leg up each stair, and then lead with it and let it clomp on each step on the way down. I even used my hands to lift the leg with the brace in and out of the car. And when I sat I rearranged my bad leg with my hands, then crossed the good leg over the braced one.
It's hard to explain, but this was so much better than just wearing a built-up shoe. Now I was clearly crippled, and so I got much more attention and sympathy, help from sales clerks, you name it. I wear the brace all the time now, and even when I just wear "flats" or sneakers I still get looks and come-ons and people just come up to me and start talking to me.
This is great. I highly recommend it.
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