T H E   E X E M P L A R

 

An uncommon tale by strzeka

 

            – The next stop is Central Railway Station. Doors open on the right.

Guy Trevalyan heard the announcement but made no sense of its muffled electronic noise. A quick glance at the LED display assured him that this was his stop. He squirmed in his seat to rearrange his backpack. He positioned his crutches and prepared to rise. He set the drop locks on his caliper to engage when he stood and gripped the crossbars of his thick wooden crutches. As the train slowed to a stop, he used its inertia to help him to his feet and waited for the rest of the passengers to alight before moving towards the door. People had already started boarding and brushed against him, giving him annoyed looks for being so tardy. He swung onto the platform and shook his backpack to settle it more comfortably across his shoulders. He waited another twenty seconds for the crowd to clear before continuing. Doors slammed shut behind him and the train accelerated away. Guy swung himself into motion on his rigid caliper and followed with his wooden leg.

 

Guy had had a frustrating day at work at Antex Games. Designers had taken code already approved and had made an attempt at increasing the number of levels. Instead, they had succeeded only in destroying the fluid motion of characters after level ten. Guy was the main developer for motion refinement and had spent much of the day redoing code which was completed the previous week. Unnecessary revisions cropped up too often when designers at Antex interfered with the UI and he was thinking about finding a new workplace. Or a new career. Or a new prosthetic leg. This one was started to chafe his upper thigh and its knee had started to malfunction. Oiling it did no good. The top of the escalator approached and Guy crutched his way out of the station where he saw one of his workmates, Kyle, who live in a neighbouring apartment block. If Guy had had a normal gait, he might have been able to sneak by without Kyle seeing him but his crutches and lurching walk made him conspicuous even in a crowd.

            – Guy! Wait up, mate. I’ll walk with you.

Kyle pointed at his chest and at Guy and made a walking gesture with his fingers. Guy sighed inwardly, smiled and nodded.

            – I was waiting for Jimmy. He was supposed to be on that train but obviously isn’t. I can’t be bothered to wait for him. Let’s go.

            – Jimmy is always late.

Guy’s speech was clear and correct except for one thing. He had never heard nor learned intonation and his speech was monotonous and robotic as a result. Driven by the innate human need to communicate, early training had helped Guy learn to read before he was five years old. Patient work on the part of therapists and Guy’s own determination resulted in his ability to communicate verbally in many situations if he could see his interlocutor’s face. He preferred to read the lips and facial expressions of people who were speaking to him while also hearing the muffled vocalisations he could distinguish. People understood him. He rarely needed to explain he was deaf. He wore large black hearing aids behind his ears, conspicuous enough to alert hearing people to slow down, face him, speak clearly and wait for acknowledgment that their meaning had been understood. No-one ever did so. He knew sign language and was an impressive user, his beautiful long-fingered hands signing efficiently and expressively. His deaf friends agreed he was a joy to sign with.

 

Nature plays cruel tricks but often favours the profoundly deaf from birth in one respect. It grants them exceptional facial beauty. Guy was exceptionally handsome. His translucent light blue eyes coupled with dark, almost black hair, a symmetric beard and beautiful lips made him attractive to both women and men until they saw him moving. He had worn a heavy moustache since he was nineteen years old and its slight forward curl gave his face an impressive profile and a handsome shape when seen full on. The rest of his face was clean-shaven with a bluish tint. His moustache was the one feature Guy was most proud of. He often grew a beard and shaved it off again but his lush moustache always stayed.

 

Kyle placed his hand on Guy’s right shoulder and urged him forward. Once past the station and traffic noise, Guy could begin to understand what Kyle was saying.

            – They’re too ready to keep using the same format over and over again with the same characters doing the same things.

They were walking along a stretch of pavement which Guy knew to be flat and he could turn his head to see Kyle mouthing his dissatisfaction. Guy’s method of mobility meant he almost always had to keep his eyes on the ground in front of him. His deafness prevented him from understanding most of what Kyle was explaining to the empty air in front. He liked Kyle and they often ate lunch together, facing each other over a canteen table. But Guy would rather walk home alone and not have to concentrate on both where to place his unfeeling feet and what the sounds in his nearly useless ears meant. They reached the corner where Kyle would go one way, Guy the other. Kyle squeezed Guy’s upper arm and said See you.

            – See you, Kyle.

Guy crutched onwards, his brace taking the strain of walking, the prosthetic leg helping out. His stump was becoming sore and he wanted to take his leg off as soon as possible.

 

He let himself into his apartment block and rose to the sixth floor in the lift. His key token was on his wrist, attached to a chrome bracelet which held similar keys for automatic doors at work and for public transport. It made life on crutches a little easier. He dropped his backpack, hung up his jacket and hobbled into his bedroom, carrying his crutches. He removed his trousers and loosened the thick leather belt which secured his wooden leg. He pushed on the socket and felt a wave of relief as the pressure eased. He removed four stump socks and inspected his narrow twenty centimetre long stump. There were no obvious abrasions or inflamed areas. Perhaps he had caught a developing problem in the nick of time. He massaged an antibacterial salve onto the stump and hoped he would be able to use his prosthesis the next day. He inspected the stump socks he had been wearing for any foreign objects and discovered a short sliver of fingernail clipping tangled in the third stump sock. That was the cause of the discomfort.

 

Problem solved. Guy picked up his crutches, rose onto his remaining leg and engaged its knee locks. He crutched carefully to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee.

 

Guy’s mobility problems had manifested shortly after his parents had accustomed themselves to the fact that their beautiful son was profoundly deaf. They fitted a pair of hearing aids but Guy did not like them and often removed them. Several of them were lost. By the age of three and a half, Guy was still not walking and was examined by a doctor.

            – It would appear that your son’s leg muscles are not developing as they should. The ligaments in the knee and ankle joints are growing as expected but muscular tissue is not keeping pace. Guy may improve over time but I believe it would be wise to fit him with leg braces to prevent any further damage to his overly loose joints.

So by the age of four, every morning Guy’s mother fitted full-length steel and leather calipers onto his legs, placed the hearing aids gently in his ears, lifted him to a standing position, kissed him and handed him a pair of wooden axillary crutches. At last Guy was walking, albeit on rigid legs.

 

His legs remained weak but grew in length through kindergarten and primary school. One summer evening when Guy was nine, the family visited a funfair. Guy wanted to ride the roundabout with the horses so his father lifted him onto one and the ride began. Guy was terrified. He felt very unbalanced, not being able to steady himself with his stiff legs and tried to climb down. He stumbled and rolled off the roundabout’s platform. One of his feet caught the revolving lower edge and Guy was dragged around, screaming for it to stop. After many seconds, it did. His father lifted his son from the ground and held him. An ambulance took the three of them to a local hospital where Guy’s injuries were treated. His left leg had been dislocated at the hip and his knee bent laterally almost ninety degrees but had not fractured. The caliper was bent and broken. Guy was placed in a body spica cast for many weeks but was allowed to go home in the first week.

 

A new caliper was purchased and four months after the accident, Guy returned to school as good as new. Two years later, the next problem manifested. Guy’s right leg was growing normally for a boy of his age but his left leg was not. It was the same length as two years previously. More medical examinations revealed that the growth plates for his major leg bones had been so seriously damaged that they were non-functional. The prognosis was that Guy would develop an increasingly severe leg length discrepancy throughout his teenage years. His right leg would grow to an estimated eighty centimetres but remain devoid of much muscle tissue while his left would remain sixty-six centimetres long with the same bone mass and musculature as the nine-year-old Guy’s leg. On his eighteenth birthday, the discrepancy was seventeen centimetres. Guy’s left foot had also remained almost the same size, a seven, while his right was a manly thirteen. The length difference was corrected by prescribing built-up boots, the soles of which could be thickened as necessary. The tall black leather boot was attached to his caliper at the heel and was paired with whatever other footwear Guy chose to wear. The boot looked heavy but was mostly cork infill.

 

Guy had been used to being disabled his entire life and was not overly concerned at how his legs appeared until he read a popular science magazine article about bionic limbs. A man in a similar situation had managed to find a sympathetic surgeon who amputated the truncated limb above the knee allowing the patient to use a full length prosthetic leg which looked realistic, moved naturally and did away with one leg brace. Guy wanted the same for himself and spent two years researching and enquiring about amputation from several orthopaedic professionals. He succeeded in achieving an elective amputation a month before his twenty-first and returned home on his birthday as an amputee with a short, thin above-knee stump. He was still on crutches because of the caliper on his right leg but he could look forward to getting an artificial leg. Maybe he would finally be able to walk after a fashion without crutches.

 

Leaning on the very same crutches waiting for the coffee to perc, Guy tried to make up his mind whether to go to work one or two-legged. He felt his stump and decided it would probably be a better idea to ditch the leg for the rest of the week. It hardly made any difference, after all.

 

The prosthetic leg had proven to be the biggest disappointment of Guy’s life. Unable to afford a new custom-made prosthesis, Guy and his father spent months searching internet shopping and barter sites for a suitable second hand artificial leg. It was not the ideal solution but needs must. Eventually a spindly wooden leg appeared for sale, being sold as ‘vintage’ and within a centimetre of the correct length. A few questions to the seller revealed that the socket was both deep enough and narrow enough to accommodate Guy’s stump with the help of a few stump socks or silicon liners. They purchased it for four hundred dollars and it arrived a week later. It had been a fine piece of prosthetic equipment in its day, possibly a century ago. It was indeed a wooden leg with a toeless foot, a rigid ankle, a knee joint made flexible by a worn-out elastic strap and the socket was held to the stump by a broad belt attached to a hinged joint at the waist. Metal parts were tarnished chrome and might polish up nicely. The leather and canvas material could be replaced easily enough.

 

Guy and his father worked on the leg for a couple of weeks, replacing the elastic strap but after buffing the leather corset belt, decided to leave it in place. They sanded the socket and lower leg inside and out, coating it all with two layers of extreme gloss resin. The finished article gleamed and looked new. Guy could wear it by using a silicon liner and five or six stump socks. His pathetically thin stump could play little role in helping him walk with the heavy leg. He would have to swing the leg forward from his hip but the primitive knee joint did not operate as well as hoped, remaining both stiff and untrustworthy. But Guy had a new limb and did not have to appear in public with an empty trouser leg. His crutches and caliper would compensate for the wooden leg’s shortcomings. He would make do. Shortly he became so accustomed to it and its foibles that he thought no more about trying to replace it with something more modern and felt rather proud of his unique vintage wooden leg.

 

Guy dressed next morning in clean khaki chinos, folded the left leg in half and tucked it into his waistband. A quick check in the mirror showed him looking smart and acceptable. He packed some lunch and his laptop into his backpack, settled his crutches into his armpits and left his apartment. Instead of walking to the station as he did most mornings, he went by tram and transferred at the station to the electric suburban train which would take him to within a hundred metres of Antex. At nine thirty, the department chief called for a meeting. Guy pushed himself erect and crutched along to the conference room. Coffee was on offer but he had no way to carry one by himself. An observant colleague mouthed ‘coffee?’ and made a drinking motion. Guy smiled and nodded and soon had a mug of steaming coffee in front of him. Guy fiddled with his hearing aids to set them to conversation mode. He ought to be able to hear what was being said if people did not interrupt each other. The chief checked everyone required was present and began.

            – Yesterday we wasted a day by having to redo work which we did last week and had passed off on. Thomas and Jack – I know you have the best intentions in the world but you must not alter any functional code outside your own sphere of expertise. You are responsible for narrative semantics, not motion control so just stop it. It’s the second time it’s happened and just in case you are interested, I estimate your actions cost the company thirty-one thousand in wasted production time. Unfortunately, the amount can not be deducted from your wages. So count yourselves lucky.

 

            – Second matter. As you may have noticed, Guy has problems with his mobility today. He is not only on crutches as usual but also one-legged so please show a bit of consideration.

He gave a double thumbs-up to Guy who gave a deep bow.

            – Now, Jack and Thomas. Although you have proved yourselves to be excellent programmers, both of you have shown a lack of familiarity with the other coding in the department. Therefore, I am assigning you both to spend the rest of the month working alongside the two guys who had to redo what you messed up. I want you to pay special attention to their procedures, help out where possible and learn as much as you can. If I am satisfied that you are responsible enough to work independently, you may do so from the beginning of next month. Until then, look, learn and behave yourselves. Thomas Pearson, you are assigned to Guy Trevalyan and Jimmy Dickinson, you go and sit with Aleck Johnston. Tommy, you’ll have to sit facing Guy not next to him.

 

Tom shot a look at Guy, saw him glance and twitched his eyebrows. Tom was infatuated with Guy. Disabled men turned him on, as the collection of photos of amputee men on his home server proved. The fact that Guy had turned up this morning on one leg had already caused him to leak precum for an hour and he hoped it had not begun to seep through his underwear. It was horny enough that he went everywhere on old-fashioned wooden crutches without him missing a leg too.

 

The meeting was called to an abrupt end and the staff wandered back to their desks. They scrolled through their previous work to remind themselves of what still needed to be done on their latest project, working title Choking Zombies, a game for eleven to sixteen year olds which involved killing the undead by strangulation. It was a new departure for Antex and caused some trepidation, as everyone knew that zombies could not be killed that way. However, that was the brief. Tom came scooting over sitting on his office chair and pulled up opposite Guy with his laptop.

            – Hi Guy! We’re supposed to be working together.

Guy nodded.

            – Can you Bluetooth me? We need each other’s screens.

Guy pressed a few keys and seconds later Tom gave a thumbs up.

            – Gotcha! Let me check this over and see where we are.

He was quiet for several minutes. Guy continued working. His stump itched and he gently massaged it through the cool fabric of his chinos. From the other side of the table, it looked exactly like he was masturbating. Tommy had a painful erection caught awkwardly in his Y-fronts and could finally bear it no longer. He stood up, rearranged his junk and sat down, hoping no-one other than Guy had seen him.

            – Fuck me, that’s better.

            – Are you OK, Tommy?

            – Never better, mate. You turn me on. You know that, don’t you? Your stump, your crutches, your beautiful face. Mate, shall we go for a beer after work? I want to talk to you.

            – First work, Tom, then play. I will tell you later.

 

Tom was annoying for the rest of the morning. He dropped his stylus twice and spent far too long peering under the desk drinking in Guy’s empty pants leg. Guy knew exactly what Tom was doing. He felt flattered in an odd way.

 

Guy was naïve in one way, however. He was a virgin at twenty-five. He suspected he was gay because watching certain men gave him an erection whereas watching women never did. But he had never had a boyfriend. He knew all about self-satisfaction and was content with the situation. Initiating relationships was difficult for him because of his deafness and continuing them was difficult because of his other disabilities. So Guy remained innocent of the fetishes, paraphilia, stump worship and other sexual peccadillos which his person engendered in others.

 

They went for lunch. Tom could hear the creaking of leather from the leg brace. Tom carried Guy’s meal to the table for him. Tom sat diagonally opposite intentionally. Tom was fascinated by Guy’s big bushy black moustache and would do anything to have it in his face as the pair of them kissed. Hoping he did not appear over-eager, Tom asked again.

            – Would you like to go for a beer this evening after work? Only one or two.

            – Yes, Tom. I will come with you. For two hours.

He made a comme çi, comme ça gesture. He did not want to show Tom he was quite excited by being asked out. It had happened only once before, years ago, and when his date saw Guy rising from the table using crutches, he had fled in horror. At least Tom already knew he was disabled.

 

The afternoon progressed with Tom watching Guy concentrating on the work at hand. Guy had propped his crutches against the desk and Tom fantasized about what it would be like to use them always because your legs were useless. What if his own legs were useless, how would that feel? Walking around with leg braces and crutches! It would be fantastic. Finally at four thirty, his expectations came to fruition when Guy closed his laptop, shoved it into his bag which he slung around his shoulders, reached for his crutches and rose from his chair, listening for both drop locks on his caliper to slide into place. He lifted himself away from the desk and crutched down the corridor to the dressing room. Tom followed him, watching every movement of the single leg. The slight rotation of the rigid heel with every step was fascinating to watch.

 

            – I’m glad you could join me, Guy. I want to talk to you. I think you are a very interesting man and I want to get to know you better.

The music in the pub was too loud for Guy to understand Tom’s speech but he could read Tom’s lips and understood Glad, want, talk, think, interesting, get, better.

            – It will be better in about two weeks. I must take things easy.

            – That’s ok, man. There’s no hurry. Two weeks is fine. But we could be together tonight. What do you think?

            – Together?

            – You and me. Tonight.

 

Guy was very rarely drunk but two beers had already worked their alcoholic magic and he said OK.

Twenty minutes later, they were walking side by side back to Guy’s flat. Tom loved the rhythm of Guy’s strides, the sounds from the metallic leg brace and the squeak of leather. Tom was a little jealous that Guy had an apartment so close to the town centre when he lived out in the suburbs but life was not easy for a disabled man who lived on the sixth floor. Guy worked his way up one step at a time and Tom followed, relishing the automatic twist of Guy’s foot in its rigid boot as his weight shifted on the marble steps.

 

They entered Guy’s flat and removed their coats. Guy looked at Tom, not knowing what to do, not knowing what he was supposed to do.

            – Where is your bed?

Guy pointed.

            – Let’s go in there.

Tom gently took Guy’s crutches from his hands and leant them against the wall. Guy leant against a door jamb, one-legged. Tom placed his arms around Guy’s shoulders and lower back and carried him onto the bed. He first removed his own trousers and underwear and pointed to Guy’s crotch.

            – Your turn!

Guy felt uncomfortable. He was not used to showing his disabled leg and stump to others. But Tom seemed insistent and Guy relented. Tom unzipped him, pulled out the tucked-in pants leg and gently removed his chinos. Guy’s naked stump and caliper were visible to another man for the first time ever. He was terrified and fascinated.

 

Tom’s erection was painful. He was looking at both the steel and leather cage on Guy’s thin right leg. And the thin phallic stump on his left. It would definitely fit in his anus. To be fucked by a thigh stump! Maybe not tonight but it was on the cards. Guy was still wearing underpants so Tom attacked those first. Guy wasn’t so sure and made to grab them but Tom’s warm hands took hold of his own and gently pried them away. He inched the underpants down, over the stump and carefully along the caliper and over the boot. Tom climbed onto the bed and lay alongside Guy. Both were still wearing their shirts.

 

            – I want you to love me with your stump.

            – I don’t understand. What do you want?

            – Put your stump (he touched it) in my arsehole!

Guy was confused. Would a leg fit up an arse? Tom spat into his palm and spread the saliva onto Guy’s stump.

            – Quick! Do it now!

He turned onto his belly and twisted to see where Guy’s stump was. He grabbed it and shoved it towards his anus. Guy understood and worked the tip and then the entire length of his stump into Tom’s anus. He flexed his thigh muscles and tried spinning his non-existent lower leg. His thigh muscles twitched and brought Tom to orgasm.

            – Take it out! Take it out!

 

Guy could not hear him. He’d removed his hearing aids as soon as they had arrived home. They were physically hurting his ears. He had assumed he and Tom would be face-to-face the rest of the evening. Now he had his stump up Tom’s backside. It felt rather warm in there. Not at all unpleasant. Tom was squirming. Maybe he didn’t like it any longer. He removed his stump. Tom fell back in ecstasy.

 

Three minutes later, Tom still hadn’t made any more effort so Guy crutched to the bathroom and washed his stump. He noticed that he too had a powerful erection. Were the two things connected? Obviously they were. But did he want a boyfriend like Tom? He seems an opportunist. Someone who liked not Guy himself but only Guy’s stump and disability. He decided then that if he were to have a boyfriend, the boyfriend would also have to be disabled in some way, on crutches or without arms or legs. Only a disabled person could understand him. He went back to the bedroom.

 

            – You must go now, Tommy. I must eat dinner and sleep. Please go now.

            – OK. See you tomorrow at work. I had a good time.

Tom went to the bathroom, wiped himself with wet toilet paper and dressed. He kissed Guy and felt the magnificent moustache on his face for the first time. He left.

 

Guy pulled on a pair of sports shorts which some misguided distant relation had sent him as a birthday present and resumed his normal life. A stump in an arsehole, really?

 

Tom was more flirtatious the next day. Guy was trying to work through a particularly difficult piece of code but was constantly distracted by Tom waving his hands along the desk when he wanted attention.

            – Did you like it last night? Shall we do it again? Will you come out on Saturday?

Guy had had enough. He spoke to his chief at lunchtime.

            – Tom and I are not getting along well. Perhaps change him for Jim Dickinson and Tom could go to Aleck Johnston.

The chief looked Guy in the eyes and could see the plea was honest. The swap happened the same afternoon. Jim was nice, very erect, nice haircut, nice smile. Jim also had a disability fetish and fucked only men with stumps. He sought them out via internet sites all over the south of the country and was determined to fuck this Adonis of a man before the week was out.

 

The two of them got on very well for the rest of the day, and during the next day too. It was Friday and Jim invited Guy to a party with his friends.

            – I don’t know these people.

            – You will when you meet them! They’re like us, programmers and developers. And we like a drink at the weekend. Come and join in! It will be fun!

Guy understood Meet, Us, Programmers, Drink, Weekend, Join, Fun.

            – OK, but I must leave eight o’clock.

            – That’s OK, Guy. Leave if you’re not having a good time. We’ll start off in the Golden Grouse, OK? Couple of beers first?

A broad smile from behind the moustache.

            – Thank you, Jim.

 

They both had three beers in the Golden Grouse. Guy was already feeling the effects of the lager but navigated his way along the central streets to an iron gateway which opened onto a back yard after Jim entered a code. Suddenly Jim grabbed him by the armpits and lifted him. The crutches fell to the ground.

            – I love you, Guy! Can you hear me? Can you understand? I love your deafness and your stump and I love your caliper. You are so beautiful, I just want to make love to you. I’m sorry if I shocked you, man.

He put Guy down and retrieved his crutches.

            – I’m sorry! Let’s go inside.

Guy leaned forward onto his crutches and raised his calipered leg off the ground. He followed Jim into the building.

 

The apartment was on the penultimate fifth floor. A box of white wine, another of red wine and several crates of beer took up most of the floor space in the kitchen. Guy was gently ushered into the lounge where two low sofas surrounded two walls and coffee tables held drinks and nibbles. Mouths fell open as the one-legged man entered the room, goaded by Jim from behind, looking around for a space where he could both sit and park his leg and crutches without them being in the way. It was inevitably a corner. Several women sitting nearby moved away as he approached. Jim brought him a glass of red wine and said Salute!

            – I don’t understand. I am sorry. Who are these people, Jim?

            – They’re just friends and their friends. Don’t worry. They are our friends too.

 

Twenty minutes later, Guy was tiring of young women who were initially attracted by his face and then horrified by his leglessness. He did not want to explain himself any more so he beckoned Jim over and said he had to leave. Jim begged him not to leave yet. He asked the reason and called for a moment’s silence in the whole room.

            – We have with us tonight a very valued colleague of mine. He has a magnificent moustache and is sitting over there in that corner. He is also disabled. He has only one leg and wears two hearing aids because he is very deaf. I am telling this to you now so you know and don’t ask him about them. It is his own personal matter and he will tell you about it if you are friendly and he trusts you. His name is Guy, rhymes with key. It is not easy to be Guy. But if you can’t be nice to him, leave him alone. Thank you!

 

Guy had already had one or two more than he was accustomed to and felt rather drunk. He also had to pee. He signalled for Jim to come to his help. Jim was not looking. Another young man was.

            – Are you OK? Do you need anything?

            – Yes. I need the toilet.

            – Oh, I’ll help you up.

He managed to get Guy up and his crutches under him before he pissed himself. He waited outside the WC, thinking about the amputee’s extreme disabilities. He knew a little sign language because his aunt was deaf and had taught him. He would try it out.

            – Are you OK now?

            – Yes, thank you. Is there any more wine?

            – Let me get you some. Red or white?

            – Just wine.

Ellis filled a large glass almost to the rim.

            – Here you are. I don’t know you. What is your name?

            – Guy. I am Guy Trevalyan. What is your name?

            – My name is Ellis Baldwin.

            – It’s good to meet you, Ellis.

            – Do you want something to eat? There is a load of sausage rolls in the kitchen. We could scoff some of those.

            – Yes. A bit hungry.

             – Wait here.

Ellis brought back about half a kilo of sausage rolls and put them on the low table.

            – This should help tide us over. I’m beginning to feel a bit pissed. How are you?

            – I am drunk soon. I want to go home soon.

            – Do you live very far away? Do you live near here?

            – I live in the centre.

            – OK. I can come with you. I am going to the station. We can go in the same taxi.

            – That will be good.

Ellis watched the action in the room, at how his workmates jerked and twerked and behaved in an ever more drunken fashion as the evening progressed. He stayed beside Guy and brought him another over-full glass of wine. He was finding it difficult to communicate with Guy but enjoying it nonetheless.

            – Do you have an artificial leg? Are you always on crutches?

            – Yes, but the leg is not good now. I am always on crutches.

            – If you want to go home, tell me. I will help you.

            – Thank you, Ellis. I think I want to go home soon. There is too much noise here. I cannot understand people when they speak.

            – No. Neither can I! Drink your wine and let’s go.

Not wanting to be impolite, Guy drained his glass and Ellis helped him up. His crutches had been kicked under the seating and required some acrobatics to retrieve. With the room spinning around him, Guy made his way toward the hallway with Ellis holding his upper arm.

            – Did you have a jacket? Anything else?

            – That brown jacket is mine. And my backpack is on the floor. Can you give it to me?

Ellis made Guy lean against the wall and took his crutches. They were heavy! He guided Guy’s arms into his jacket and smiled at him. He picked up the backpack and helped Guy again. Finally the crutches and they were off.

 

Ellis hailed a cab and waited as Guy placed his crutches on the back seat and sat down sideways with his rigid leg pointing out the door. He released the knee locks and squirmed around to face forward. Ellis shut the door and walked around to sit beside the driver.

            – What’s your address, Guy? Where do you live?

Guy gave his address and the cab accelerated away.

 

Five minutes later they arrived. Ellis paid the driver and helped Guy out of the back, handing him his crutches.

            – I’m coming in with you, Guy. I want to be sure you get inside safely. I think you have had too much to drink, mate.

            – Yes, come inside, Ellis. Drunk!

 

Before long, Guy had undressed himself except for his caliper and boot and collapsed onto his bed. Ellis looked at him and wondered what to do. He was a little drunk himself and decided it would be OK to stay the night. He threw a duvet over Guy and went into the living room to sleep on the sofa. There was no sofa. All the seats were high-backed dining chairs. Guy’s disability made it very difficult to rise from a low seat. It was much easier to get up from a dining chair. But where could Ellis sleep? Would Guy mind if he slept on his bed with him? There was nothing for it. There was no alternative. The idea of going home did not enter his head. He returned to the bedroom, undressed down to his underwear, climbed over Guy and settled beside him. Guy’s caliper acted as a barrier to close contact. A few minutes later, both men were asleep and rolled closer together during the night.

 

Ellis awoke first, surprised at first to see where he was. Guy was still out of it. He would have a shocking hangover when he woke. Ellis’s headache was tolerable. He sat up and wondered if he could climb over Guy without waking him. He worked his way down the bed and climbed over the caliper. Guy slept on. Ellis found the kitchen and opened a few cupboards looking for coffee. He could make some and go and wake Guy. Then they could go out for a hair of the dog. Guy would definitely have a sore head. He found what he was looking for and ten minutes later, the coffee was brewed. He poured a mugful and took it back to the bedroom where his clothes were piled onto a chair. He dressed, keeping an eye on Guy. He was so very handsome. It would be wonderful to have a face like that but not at the expense of deafness, not to mention Guy’s ruined legs.

 

Guy stirred and groaned. He opened his eyes and saw Ellis looking at him.

            – Good morning, Guy. How do you feel?

            – You are still here? Have you been here all night?

            – Yes. I slept there.

He pointed at the bed.

            – I made coffee. Will you get up?

            – Yes. Where are my hearing aids? They should be here.

            – I think you put them in your jacket.

Guy heaved his caliper over the side of the bed and locked its knee joint. He picked up a crutch and pulled himself up.

            – Ah, my head hurts!

            – Have some coffee. You’ll feel better. Here, let me get the other crutch.

They walked to the kitchen and sat on two tall stools. Ellis poured another mugful of coffee. Guy inspected his stump and decided he would wear his wooden leg today.

            – Can you check my jacket pocket? I want my hearing aids.

            – Just a sec. OK! Found them!

He brought them to Guy who checked their batteries. He had forgotten to switch them off overnight and they had both drained. He had a few packs in the kitchen drawer.

            – Will you give me batteries, please? In there.

Ellis found a pack and brought over two.

            – Thank you, Ellis.

He gently fitted each aid into his ears and gave a thumbs up to Ellis.

            – I need to dress. Ellis, I have a terrible headache.

            – We could go out for another drink. It sort of helps.

            – OK. Let’s go out.

Guy went to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He crossed to his bedroom and collected a stump liner and several thick ply stump socks, making sure they were free of fingernails. He threw them onto the bed. Ellis came to see if he could help.

            – Will you bring my leg? It is in the closet.

Ellis saw it immediately. He had never seen a prosthetic limb before and was fascinated by its alien appearance. He picked it up gingerly and was surprised at its weight. He held it by the thigh socket with both hands and presented it to Guy, who laughed.

            – Do you want to watch me?

            – Er, OK.

Guy lifted the limb and placed it in front of his stump. He forced it into the socket as far as it would go and pushed himself up. He forced his stump deeper and pulled the corset belt around his midriff and buckled it.

            – Will you bring my other boot? You can put it on my foot if you want.

Ellis found it in the hallway and knelt at Guy’s feet. He lifted the wooden foot, placed the boot onto it and laced it tight.

            – Thank you. Now I need my trousers. I want my jeans today. In the closet, on the right.

Ellis retrieved them and watched Guy open two zips along the entire length of the jeans. He lifted each foot into the jeans and pulled them up as far as he could. He stood and finished the job.

            – Will you close the zips? Just pull them down. And that is how I put on my trousers after I put my gear on. So now I am ready. Shall we go for brunch and beer?

            – Let’s go.

 

They walked side by side along the street. They bought a cheese and ham croissant in a bakery and sat to eat it. Next stop, the nearest pub.

            – Thank you for helping me, Ellis. I would have had some trouble if you were not with me.

Ellis was relieved that Guy was not annoyed by having an uninvited overnighter sleep alongside him.

            – Don’t mention it, Guy. I would like to help you more, every day. I would like it if we could be close friends. Maybe even boyfriends.

            – You are very kind but I cannot have a relationship with another man who is not disabled like I am. He must be an amputee or wear leg braces or use hooks instead of hands. Only one disabled man can understand another. So I am sorry, Ellis. We can be friends and colleagues but not boyfriends.

Ellis was a little disappointed. His daydream had just been dashed but he had to admit that there was some sense in what Guy said. Perhaps it was true that only another disabled man can genuinely love another. They would see each other beyond their disabilities.

            – So if I had a wooden leg too, you might have me as a boyfriend?

Guy grinned and nodded.

            – I see. I shall remember that.

 

The men had three beers and called it a day. Ellis headed off towards the station and Guy returned home, stopping for a few groceries on the way. Both of them slept most of the afternoon and woke in the early evening feeling hungry but without headaches.

 

Monday morning. Guy and Jim would be working together all week. Jim was attentive and the pair got on well enough. They lunched together and an inevitable familiarity developed. Jim was determined to get Guy into a situation where he could fuck him. He lusted after Guy’s stump most but the caliper was fairly horny too.

            – Shall we go for a glass of wine on Friday evening after work? It would be fun.

            – Only for a couple of hours. I had a bad weekend last week. I was not well.

            – No. I think everyone had a bad headache the next day.

 

They left work on Friday just before five and made their way to a hip wine bar two blocks away. Patrons watched Guy’s tortured entrance up three outside steps and heard his uneven footfalls on the wooden floorboards. Jim watched Guy’s artificial leg. It moved in such an unnatural way. He loved it. They sat and ordered a carafe of red. Jim kept his voice low and told Guy how much he admired and respected him. How he hoped they could have a closer relationship and be lovers. Guy was amazed that it was the second time in a week he had been propositioned. He decided to put his foot down and repeated to Jim what he had explained to Ellis. Any lover he took would have to be as severely disabled as himself. Friendship was fine for the time being, but nothing more.

 

Soon after, the atmosphere soured but Guy wished Jim a good weekend and left him with an almost full carafe of wine. Jim drank it in just over an hour and left. He would show the little bastard what disabled was! He walked past the closest tram stop and waited. A number twelve turned the corner and accelerated towards him. He pretended to trip and shoved his forearms under the middle bogie. Both hands were severed instantly and the rear wheels squashed them into unrecognizable mush. The tram shuddered to a halt and the horrified driver rushed back to Jim who had sat up and was holding his stumps in front of him. The driver alerted HQ which in turn called for an ambulance. The driver used his belt to use as a tourniquet and squeezed Jim’s other arm. A relief tram driver arrived to take over and a long line of delayed trams moved past the accident scene. An ambulance arrived and Jim was rushed into surgery to close his wounds. Definitive amputations would be performed later after a less urgent examination.

 

The team at Antex heard about Jim’s accident in the Monday morning meeting at nine thirty. The hospital had contacted the company to appraise them of the situation. Their prognosis was that Jim could be back wearing hooks in six weeks.

 

Guy was as horrified as the rest of the staff to learn the news. In his naïvety, he did not make a connection about saying he would accept only a crippled boyfriend and Jim’s maiming. Ellis, however, remembered only too well what Guy had said. He knew Jim and Guy had something going on, although his suspicions were much exaggerated. He assumed that Jim’s accident had been deliberate. Two could play at that game. He preferred to keep his hands but he might sacrifice a leg to win Guy’s love and respect. The railway method was his best option, he thought. More reliable than an electrocution and less suspect than dry ice. He knew a good place on a curve. The driver would not be able to see him until it was too late to stop. The train would serve its purpose even if brakes were applied immediately. The other advantage of the site was that the hospital was only a kilometre away and there was easy access to a road.

 

Two evenings later, Ellis went home and showered. He turned off all his electronics and emptied the refrigerator and took the garbage out. He caught a train back towards town and got off at the station before the curve. He waited on the platform until the rest of the passengers had left and jumped down onto the track. He put a high-vis waistcoat on. He walked calmly and purposefully looking like a track engineer doing an emergency round. Once out of sight of the station, he took the high-vis off and put it back in his pocket. His grey clothes blended in well with the autumn dusk. There was a non-stopping fast train due in seven minutes. It would be travelling at about ninety km/h.

 

Ellis had made up his mind to go through with his desperate act of dismemberment. He had always longed to have a stump, and regardless of the outcome of his future friendship with Guy, the stump would be his constant pride and joy. He was going to try for a mid-thigh stump so he planned on putting a little more than his knee onto the rails. The rails started vibrating. The train had entered the section. Ellis crouched down. Just a few seconds. The engine car hummed past and Ellis shot his leg forward onto the track. Two sets of bogies severed his leg. The gust of air and the shock caused Ellis to rotate and his left leg was severed through the knee. He fell back in shock. The train driver had spotted Ellis at the last possible moment and watched the accident happen on a video display in the cab. He went through the same procedure as the tram driver earlier in the week. He stopped his train two hundred metres beyond Ellis’s legless body, grabbed a first aid kit from beneath his seat and ran back to help. It was obviously a suicide attempt but unsuccessful. The man was still alive but in deep shock. As he reached Ellis, a fast approaching siren indicated help was at hand. Ellis was soon having his above knee traumatic amputations temporarily closed to stop bleeding. X-rays and ultrasound examinations would be necessary before proceeding with final amputations.

 

Guy was shocked to hear the news about another colleague being injured. Ellis’s injuries had not been revealed in the hospital notification to Antex but Guy suspected another amputation. He had a strong feeling now that he was somehow responsible, at least in part, for the accidents. He did not yet assume that his policy of accepting only disabled lovers was behind their actions.

 

Jim was already well on the way to recovery. His surgeon had saved ten centimetres of his forearms and a discussion with a prosthetist had led him to believe that being fitted with two prosthetic arms would be no problem. There was a doubt in the prosthetist’s mind about whether the arms would need elbow hinges or whether there would be enough strength in Jim’s stumps to operate the new limbs without them. Time would tell. Hinges further restricted the little rotational movement left to arm amputees making the disability more severe.

 

Ellis had had his injuries examined and analysed by several specialists most of whom agreed that symmetrical bilateral stumps of sixteen centimetres were the optimal outcome. The patient could learn to use prosthetic limbs without problems. Bilateral amputations were scheduled for the early afternoon and Ellis should be awake again with his newly formed body during the evening. In the absence of further evidence, Ellis’s trauma was regarded as an unlucky accident rather than as a suicide attempt. The truth never dawned on them.

 

Work continued as usual at Antex despite two of its staff being absent. The ridiculous zombie game was progressing. The designers were demanding changes to how the zombies reacted when being strangled. Apparently they were too calm about it. Guy altered the code controlling their facial expressions and their shoulder movements. Then he altered it again the following day. It was tedious to repeat the same phase. Designers never knew what they wanted, only what they did not want. Guy’s chief noticed that development was lagging and transferred Tommy Pearson back alongside Guy to help tackle the backlog.

            – Hello Guy. The boss says I have to help you with the zombie faces code.

            – Hi Tom. I will link our laptops. You will see what I have done.

            – OK. Guy, I’m sorry I was coming on to you too strongly last time. I still hope we can be friends.

            – We can be friends. But I don’t want a lover who is not disabled like me.

Suddenly Guy realised the connection between his demand and the fates of Jim and Ellis. He was stunned to find himself wielding such a powerful influence.

            – Are you OK, Guy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

            – No, only zombies. Tom, let’s work.

Tom controlled himself for the rest of the day. They went for lunch together and Tom brought Guy’s food to him. They left Antex together and walked slowly to the station. Tom asked Guy why he wanted a disabled lover.

            – Because only another disabled man can understand me. Two disabled men together is a good situation for both.

Guy was courting danger again without realising it. Tom was listening carefully and taking in all Guy’s wishes and demands. By the time they reached the platform, Tom was considering the best way to get an amputation. A little stump like Guy’s would be best. He had already had it up his arse. It would be horny to be able to do the same for Guy. Maybe his own stump would be too thick and muscular, though. Tom’s train pulled in.

            – Bye, Guy. See you tomorrow.

Guy raised a hand. He would have Tom to contend with for the rest of the week. He hated zombies.

 

Ellis was now in possession of two short thigh stumps. They matched perfectly in length and bulk. They were still somewhat swollen but remedial electrolysis therapy had hastened their healing. But on Saturday’s morning examination, the doctor appeared concerned.

            – Take a look at the incision. I think we may have a problem here. This could lead to sepsis which could endanger his life at this stage.

            – Yes, I agree with you. I’ll alert the surgeon – who was it? Oh yes.

He sent a text message Baldwin left stump inflamed. Opinion? A reply arrived On my way. The surgeon appeared and looked at his colleagues.

            – There is definitely inflammation here, wouldn’t you say?

            – Yes, there is. We lost a patient last year following these same symptoms. This boy needs another amputation. I’ll book the theatre for three o’clock this afternoon or as soon after as possible.

The surgeon turned to Ellis and cleared his throat.

            – I have some bad news for you, my boy. Your left stump is not responding to treatment as we had anticipated and it is now imperative to remove the diseased tissue. This will entail a disarticulation of your left stump at the pelvis.

            – I understand. Will I still be able to use artificial legs?

            – Unfortunately, very few double amputees with your levels of amputation have succeeded in walking on prostheses. Your remaining stump is too short to provide all the muscular effort required to operate the limbs. Most patients prefer to use a wheelchair. There is one alternative, however. That is to be fitted with a stubby leg, a rigid socket fitting over your residual limb, on which you will be able to navigate using a pair of shortened crutches.

Ellis collapsed back on to his bed. He would shortly have what he had hankered for – a stump. Unfortunately there would be no leg to go with it. But having a stubby and crutches sounded pretty cool. What would Guy think when he saw him?

 

Tom was doing research into the dry ice method. He needed some of the frozen carbon dioxide, quite a lot obviously. He had to put his leg into it and keep it there until the leg was frozen solid. About ten hours at least. And when it thawed, it would be dead tissue which would be amputated. Easy enough. The trouble was finding someone to help out. And where did you buy dry ice? Could anyone buy it? And what about the pain? There would be pain. Frostbite hurts. Maybe there was a quicker method. How about a chainsaw? Too messy. It was not so easy, after all.

 

Jim had been allowed to get up and move around freely for a couple of days. The bandages had been removed and the sutures were inspected and approved. On Monday he had a meeting scheduled with his prosthetist to have casts made from his stumps. The process had been explained to him and he asked if it would be possible to watch the work. It was an unusual request but the prosthetist answered affirmatively. Jim felt very disabled. He was not allowed to use his stumps yet. Meals and drink were fed to him at certain set times. He could not buy a bar of chocolate or a Coke for himself. But that would change when he had his new arms and hooks instead of hands, With any luck, he would have his first pair in a week’s time.

 

Sunday dawned bright and cold. Tom had just showered when his phone rang. His friend Mark from college invited him over for beers while he worked on his car. He had to repair something on the back axle. Tom knew nothing about cars but Mark had good banter and they would probably end up in the pub in the afternoon. He had nothing better to do and so he said he would be there in half an hour or so. He set off from his pad and walked the three kilometres in twenty-five minutes.

 

            – Hiya, matey!

Mark was sprawled under his car and called out.

            – Tom? Grab yourself a beer! They’re in front of the bonnet. I’ll be out in a sec.

There was a twelve-pack of IPA on the ground in the shade. Two half litre cans had been taken. Tom cracked one open and sucked foam off the top. Mark crawled out, stood up and went to greet Tom with his hand held out as if to shake. It was completely covered in oil, grease and other muck. Tom recoiled in disgust.

            – Don’t you dare!

            – Give me that rag, will ya?

Tom handed it over and Mark cleaned the worst of the mess off.

            – Thirsty work, this. I need to change one of the friction liners on the near-side brake, at least I think that’s what the problem is. Brakes still work but make a screeching noise. Sounds like my girlfriend on a good night. And everything is connected to something else so I’ve had to pull half the damn car apart so far.

            – French cars are like that.

            – Yeah, but that’s a Mazda. Japanese, mate!

            – Oh. So what have you been up to?

            – Well, the big news is that GF is expecting.

            – Great! You sly old dog. Does she know?

            – Ha! Apart from that, I get up, go to work, come home, go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. How are you doing?

            – I’m in love with a wonderful man, except he doesn’t know it and doesn’t even like me.

            – Par for the course, then, eh?

They chewed the fat for a few minutes and Mark asked if Tom could give him a hand with the car. It meant getting underneath and holding a spanner against a nut while Mark pumped the brake. Tom would then report what he saw moving, if anything. It sounded easy enough.

            – Wait a minute while I put a clean tarp on the ground. I don’t want you to get your old jeans and worn-out t-shirt dirty.

He fetched a newish tarpaulin from the garage and showed it to Tom.

            – Fresh as a daisy, never been worn. OK?

He pulled the filthy bath towel he had been laying on out from under the car and threw the tarp down, spreading it out as best he could. He went around to the other side of the car and tugged at it.

            – That should be alright. It won’t take a minute. I’ve put my torch to shine on the part in question, Tom. There’s only one nut which will fit that spanner anyway so you can’t go wrong. Hold it as still as you can and tell me if the connecting rod behind it rotates.

            – OK, I get it.

Tom crouched down and peered under the car. A flat torch on the ground illuminated something near the middle of the chassis. He took the spanner and squirmed his way under the car.

            – Can you see it, mate?

            – Yeah, I’ve got it. Hang on while I get the spanner in place. OK, ready.

Out of habit, Mark jumped into the driver’s seat in order to pump the brakes. The car shifted. The jack collapsed sideways and the rear wheel rim fell squarely onto Tom’s left knee. He screamed in agony. Mark was mortified. He scrambled out, rocking the car, forcing the rim deeper into Tom’s knee. He screamed again.

            – Oh Christ! Are you alright, mate? No, of course you’re not! I’ll call an ambulance.

Mark dashed inside to find his phone and found that his oily fingers would not operate the touch-screen. He half panicked trying to wipe the grease off with anything he could see and after an age managed to call emergency services. He explained what had happened, requested an ambulance and gave his address. He went back out to where Tom was whimpering.

            – I’m sorry, Tom. Oh mate, I’m sorry!

Seven minutes later an ambulance arrived. The crew understood immediately what had happened and brought their own jack from the ambulance. Gradually the pressure on Tom’s knee eased and blood began to flow freely from the injury. The ambulance crew were able to pull on the tarpaulin to get Tom out, applied a tourniquet, lifted him onto a stretcher and sped off, siren wailing. Mark burst into tears.

 

The Antex team was agog with amazement at hearing the news about Tom. The third member to be injured within a month. What on earth was going on? Guy was relieved it was a genuine accident. It could not be traced back to him and his demand. The hospital had not provided any further details than Tom had a serious injury to a lower extremity and would be recovering for several weeks.

 

Productivity on the zombie game started to fall. With a third of the workforce absent and the rest reeling from shock, it was to be expected. The chief tried messaging Jim for news of his recovery. Jim saw the message arrive but was unable to operate the phone with his short stumps. He was waiting for a pair of hooks and things could get back to normal. Ten minutes later, his prosthetist came to collect him and they walked along the corridor to a half open door marked orthotics. The prosthetist slid it shut.

            – Take a seat just there, Mr Dickinson. My name is Liam Alvarado and I am your prosthetist. That is to say, I am the guy responsible for making your artificial arms and afterwards, for their adjustment and maintenance. You asked if you may follow the procedure. I am happy to have you here except when we are handling toxic chemicals, providing you do not interrupt our work.

            – I understand.

            – Good. First I need to take your top off and put a protective sheet of plastic over you. This first stage will get messy. Lift your arms up, please.

Tom did so, still feeling surprise at the lack of weight to his arms. Alvarado pulled off his t-shirt and put something very like a barber’s cape over his head.

            – First I am going to cover your arms with plaster casts. When they have dried somewhat, I will remove them and make exact copies of your stumps on which we can model the sockets. I intend making two different test sockets and we will decide on the best option later. Let’s start. I need you to hold your arm straight out and bend the elbow upwards by about thirty degrees. A bit more. That’s it. Hold it like that until I say you can relax.

He dunked a plaster bandage into warm water and began wrapping the stump. After five thicknesses, he asked if the plaster felt too warm. It did not.

            – Hold it for another couple of minutes then you can relax.

They waited a short while. Alvarado cut into the cast and gently removed it. He reformed the cast’s cut edges and set it aside.

            – Now we do the same on the other arm.

Twenty minutes later two negative moulds had been made.

            – Next stage is simply filling these with more plaster to make positive moulds. It will dry overnight, so there is nothing further to work on today. Are you familiar with prosthetic arms, Mr Dickinson?

            – Not really.

            – Well, I expect you will soon be quite an expert. I want to show you some of the hooks which you have as choices for your prostheses. There are other types available but they are not covered by your health policy. Come over to my desk and we’ll have a look. Now, this model is known as a Hosmer Number Five and it is by far the most commonly used split hook. It is available in polished stainless steel like this one, or in aluminium which is considerably lighter in use but which will not operate a touch screen. You can use the tips of the steel fingers to work a smart phone or other touch screen. These curved parts are called the fingers, by the way. This part which sticks out is called the thumb and its usual position is pointing up. The cable which opens the fingers is connected to the thumb. The Number Five has a rubber-like surface here on the inside which protects softer materials and provides a surer grip. And here is the wrist where you see these rubber bands. They provide the force to close the fingers. You can add more elastic bands for greater force but it makes the fingers stiffer to open, which can become tiring over the course of a working day. Do you have any questions so far?

            – No, you’re making it all very clear. Do go on. What’s that bigger one?

            – That is a Number Seven, also called a farmer’s hook or a working hook. It has a different inner surface, serrations instead of rubber. It is designed for holding tools - hammers, brooms, that sort of thing. It has a very painful bite. Some of your friends will be curious about your hooks and will offer you a finger so they can feel how tight it grips. I suggest you do not do so with this hook. You can no longer experience it yourself but I can assure you that it does hurt much more than expected.

            – What are all these knobbly bits on it?

            – Their purpose is to hold various items such as nails. There are several nooks and crannies on it but the user must find what he finds most useful himself. The tab on the fingers is useful for pressing buttons, like calling a lift, for example. Now this hook is similar to a Five but it opens in a different fashion. It is useful for handling cylindrical objects, like a mug or straight glass. And those are your choices. I recommend that you take one farmer’s hook on your left prosthesis and a Five on the right. Were you right-handed? In that case, a Five on the right is the better alternative. If you agree, I will place an order for one of each. Now, I will collect you tomorrow before we continue with the moulds.

            – Thank you, Dr Alvardo. It has been very interesting.

            – I’m glad you think so. Goodbye until tomorrow.

 

Jim took himself back to his ward and had a nap. He dreamed he had hands and was exploring Guy’s stump and arse. He woke suddenly with an erection which he could not reach.

 

Elsewhere in the same building, Ellis had been exploring his new body and trying to imagine himself using a prosthetic leg. His stump was surely long enough to hold a socket, he thought. Maybe he would need a support belt to hold the thing on more securely. Then he thought about getting up from a seated position. He could not imagine how it would be possible. His prosthetist would know. He would ask the doctor next time she came by. Perhaps it would be easier to use a stubby instead, maybe as long as his natural thigh. He would be as tall as if he were kneeling. A pair of crutches cut down to size and off he would go.

 

The stubby could be shaped like an old fashioned wooden peg leg, painted shiny black with a fat rubber stopper on the end. Yes, his dick liked the sound of that. Up it comes. He kneaded it against his stump. Had to be a bit careful. What would they think if he came in his bed? He left his dick alone and felt the left stump. There was no stump. It was flat empty space. He had a bit of arse cheek left. There was no way of ever attaching anything to that. It would have to be a corset or body shell with a prosthetic leg attached to it. Probably just a series of steel pylons. Pylons from arse to toe. He supposed it would work by swinging his hips, rising up on the toes of his other foot to swing the leg through – oh, but that wouldn’t work. No foot!

 

He returned to the idea of his future peg leg and imagined how it would jut out in front of him when he was sitting on the train in the morning. The other passengers would look at it and him in horror and wonder that anyone would use such a primitive device. Short wooden crutches like Guy’s old style axillaries. What sort of trousers would he be able to wear? He could have them all modified. The left trouser leg could be sewn up completely. The right side could be thirty centimetres long, say, with smart turn-ups. His peg would be easily visible always. He ejaculated into his pyjama trousers and pressed the call button for assistance.

 

Tom was being kept in a coma in another ward on the same floor. He had undergone an above knee amputation leaving his left thigh ten centimetres shorter than his right. The stump would be muscular and strong, capable of controlling an artificial leg with comparative ease. Regeneration therapy had almost completely knitted the wound which curved around the back of the stump. From the front, the stump was symmetrically rounded and free of blemishes. His surgeon thought his young patient would be pleased with the resultant residual limb. He would be woken on Wednesday morning.

 

Choking Zombies was at a stage where it could go for beta testing. The chief discussed it with his bosses and a team of young citizens would be invited to play the game and criticise it. Several teams of volunteer players were standing by. The developers wanted to know if the game was too difficult and frustrating or too easy and frustrating, were the characters simpatico or ridiculous. Antex had not had a hit game for quite a while and high hopes were riding on the zombies.

 

The graphics were excellent, the animation natural and fluid, the music was on a long enough loop not to be annoying and the sound effects were realistic. Technically, it was a first class product. The first team of players had been invited in any time between four and six and they would be treated to as much soda, crisps and chicken nuggets as they could eat.

 

It was a quiet day for the staff. There was a half-hearted plan to produce a related animation for use in media advertising, but that would not take more than half a day if the game was approved. Conversation revolved around Tommy, Jim and Ellis and their unlucky fates. No-one had any definite information and the hospital would not divulge patient details under any circumstances. Everyone knew that Jim had lost his hands, but Tom’s and Ellis’s injuries remained mysteries. Surely they could go to visit them? When were visiting hours? Guy was certain both men had planned amputations to achieve maimed and disabled bodies for him, displaying their stumps for Guy’s favour, approval and acceptance. How was he going to confront them if they returned to Antex? Was he going to have to take one of them as a lover, whatever happened?

 

Liam Alvarado dropped in to Jim’s ward and beckoned him. That’s something else I can’t do, he thought.

            – Good morning, Mr Dickinson. Did you rest well?

            – Yes, thank you.

            – If you are still interested, you can come to watch the next steps. If all goes well, you may be testing sockets this afternoon.

            – That sounds great. Things are moving along.

            – That’s what things do. Come along.

They strode down the corridor and entered the orthotics department. The positive moulds of Jim’s stumps should be dry and ready for the next stage. Alvarado drilled a vertical hole into each mould, squirted in some glue and inserted metal rods. He transferred them to a vice and sanded them, removing all imperfections. Next, he heated a sixty centimetre square sheet of transparent perspex in something like a horizontal toaster and after a couple of minutes, draped the half-molten sheet over the mould, working quickly to make the material conform to its contours.

            – We usually use vacuum suction for this stage but the machine is out for repair so we’ll have to do it the old fashioned way, manually.

The perspex hardened as it cooled and shrank to grip the mould tightly. Alvarado inspected it carefully.

            – This looks fine. This is a first test socket. I am interested at this stage to know if your stumps are adequate to manipulate prostheses.

He inspected Jim’s elbows and drew a contour line on the perspex with a felt-tip pen. He used a saw attachment on an electric drill to cut the plastic and carefully removed the socket from the mould, discarding the waste. He rounded the rough edges on a milling machine and ran a fingertip around it to check.

            – I think this will do for the first preliminaries. Hold out your arm at about thirty degrees.

He carefully pushed the perspex shape over Jim’s stump.

            – You can see that I have left material here at the back to cover your elbow. This will protect your elbows if you fall, for example, as well as holding the prosthesis more firmly. You see that your arm is bent somewhat. Is it uncomfortable in any way? No? Good. Now bend your arm as much as you can, slowly. Straighten – bend. Hold it there.

He inspected the open end of the socket looking for compressed tissue or too much play.

            – Does that feel secure? Try to shake the socket off, if you can. Don’t hurt yourself. Let me take another look. I don’t believe it moved, do you? Let’s try the other arm.

He repeated the process starting with the sheet of perspex and Jim was soon wearing two transparent test sockets on his stumps.

            – I want you to know that when you relax your arms, your sockets will be at that ten degree angle. If you force your elbows straight, your sockets will loosen and dislodge. Is that angle acceptable to you? It is slightly unnatural, of course, but so are your prosthetic arms. The main thing at the moment is your range of motion and comfort.

            – I haven’t much experience, I’m afraid. I can tell you that the position my stumps are in feels fine and I feel they are almost part of my arms.

            – That is excellent. In fact, I am not going to make a second set of sockets with hinges yet. Let us go with this version with the covered elbows. I want you now to remove them.

Jim glanced at Alvarado who smiled.

            – Go ahead. Remember I said if you force your arms straight, you will loosen the sockets. Shake your arm, it will help. It’s loosening, isn’t it? The final socket will be heavier and easier to remove. Put that elbow on your chest and use the other to work the socket off. It doesn’t matter if it falls.

It came off. Alvarado picked it up.

            – Now the other stump. Straighten it and bring it across your chest. Use the other elbow - you’ve got it. Very good, Mr Dickinson. I think you’re going to be a very successful hook user. Now the next phases involve carbon fibre and a very noxious resin so you will not be able to be present for that. I am going to make your new arms about five centimetres shorter than your natural arms were. It helps a bilateral amputee manipulate the hooks better and helps in feeding yourself or brushing your teeth if your arms are a little shorter. Their length will seem odd at first but you will quickly become accustomed to it. I will see you later in the week.

            – Thank you, Dr Alvarado. See you later.

            – Good bye, Mr Dickinson.

 

A group of teenagers turned up to Antex at four thirty. The team was waiting for them and would be staying late this evening. The visitors were escorted into a lounge equipped with comfortable chairs at desks holding playstations and PCs running the new software. The chief welcomed them and explained briefly what information he needed regarding playability, enjoyability and any glitches they ran into. He told them to help themselves to refreshments and invited them to start the game.

 

Guy, Jack and Aleck watched the youngsters. Most of them seemed to be absorbed and enjoying themselves, one or two of the older visitors were smirking and looked derisive. After about three quarters of an hour, kids began to lean back and look around or help themselves to snacks. After an hour, the chief called their attention.

            – Pause the game by hitting zero, please, if you haven’t completed it yet and want to continue later. Did you have a good time? We’d like you to answer a few questions for us. We’ll give you a questionnaire and please rate the different aspects from one to ten. And if you have any opinions about the game, write them on the other side of the paper. No, you don’t have to put your name on the paper.

He distributed the papers and handed out felt-tip pens.

            – When you finish the questions, you’re both free to go or stay to play some more. But we have to be out by eight at the latest.

 

Soon the papers were handed in and several visitors left but about half remained. They continued the game where they left off after collecting a pile of snacks.

 

            – It looks quite promising. We haven’t got any scores above eight but there also aren’t any below 5. I’ll run a quick analysis in the morning to see where we should make some improvements but I’m fairly pleased. And pleasantly surprised, to be honest. I never understood the popularity of zombies but it looks like they still hold their charm for some youngsters.

 

Tom’s anaesthesia drip was removed early on Wednesday morning and he was allowed to awaken. A nurse watched him, moistened his lips, gave him water and made reassuring noises. By ten, Tom was lucid enough to begin to ask questions.

            – You’re in hospital. You have been in a coma for four days while your injury is healed.

            – A car fell on me.

            – Yes, that’s right. It destroyed your knee and your leg has been amputated just above the knee. You have a long stump which is healing very well.

            – Can I see it?

            – Yes, in a short while. The doctor will be here soon and will explain more to you.

            – A stump. I have a stump.

            – Yes. I’m sorry. It was not possible to save your leg.

Tom was elated.

 

A doctor turned up on his rounds an hour later.

            – Well, young man. It’s good to see you’re back with us. Are you aware of your situation? You have undergone an amputation of the left leg. Unfortunately, although only the knee was damaged, it was not viable so amputation was the only recourse.

            – Can I see the stump?

            – Woah! Slow down! Nurse, will you unwrap the bandages. We want to take a look at the stump. You were in a coma for several days and we applied regenerative electrolysis to hasten healing. Let us inspect the results.

The bandages were removed. Tom sat up and looked at his beautifully long thigh stump, rounded without scarring – perfect.

            – Can you lift your stump? I want to see the suture. Oh, what a remarkable improvement since yesterday! Young man, this is already so well healed that I am giving you permission to get up and about using a wheelchair. Have you used crutches before?

            – No.

            – In that case, wait until your therapist demonstrates the correct way to handle them. Don’t go trying them out on your own. I don’t want you to fall on the fresh stump. I assure you, it would be extremely painful. But you will be fine in a wheelchair. You’ll soon get the hang of using it. I suspect that you will not need it for long. I imagine you’ll be fitted for your first prosthetic leg some time next week.

            – That sounds very reassuring, doctor. Thank you very much.

            – No thanks required, my boy.

The nurse re-bandaged the stump and brought a black steel wheelchair. She held Tom’s arm as he lowered himself into it, looking pleased as Punch.

 

The doctor moved along the ward and greeted Ellis. His stump and the pelvic suture were examined and pronounced healed enough for prosthetic fitting to begin. Perhaps by the weekend. Ellis nodded enthusiastically. He would soon be walking around again.

 

 

Jim was not looking forward to the day spent watching tv in his room. He asked a nurse if it might be possible to attach a touch screen stylus to his stump so he could poke around on his phone. She enquired from his doctor who gave permission and soon Jim was scrolling and typing with a stylus. The nurse reminded Jim of one matter which he had not thought about.

            – Your jacket was ruined when you were brought in. We still have it but you will need another one before you leave. We can’t dismiss you in only a t-shirt. Is there anyone you could contact who could bring you another jacket from home? Now that you can type a message to them.

            – Oh yeah, I never thought of that. I’m sure I can find someone to help out.

 

He texted Guy. can you help please? come to hospital & collect door key. fetch jacket from my flat. original one spoilt. Guy texted back. i can come after work. see you!

Jim was excited at seeing Guy and wondered how he would react to his new arm stumps. Guy was also excited and relieved. He knew Jim had been disappointed to be rebuffed when they were in the bar together. He was glad Jim seemed to bear him no grudge. It was a little inconvenient but surely Jim did not need his jacket immediately. He could collect the key tonight and go to his flat tomorrow. He would ask.

 

A meeting was called for one o’clock, all staff to attend. The results from the questionnaire had been tabulated, pored over and analysed. The crew was curious and hoped that the project could be approved and signed off in the near future. Everyone was heartily sick of zombies. There had been talk about the next game project – a Formula One simulation with dinosaurs.

            – It gives me great pleasure, gentlemen, to announce that Choking Zombies has been approved of and signed off. Let us hope we never hear of another zombie ever again. The game will still need a media ad animation – Guy, you have something ready, yes?

            – Yes. I will use code from the game and my code together.

            – Good. Deadline is Friday afternoon, two o’clock. Understand?

            – Two on Friday deadline.

            – Yes. Thank you, Guy.

            – Next, I have had some general news from the hospital via one of the relatives. Ellis has lost both his legs and will be severely crippled for the rest of his life. He will however be able to return to work in a wheelchair and we expect to have him back by the end of next month.

The crew looked suitably morose but felt a frisson of excitement to learn what severely crippled actually entailed. Guy was intrigued. Ellis had been the friendliest and most thoughtful of his courtiers and the one he was most likely to strike up a serious relationship with.

 

Liam Alvarado was working on Jim’s sockets. The successful test sockets were combined with longer cylindrical forms representing forearms and covered with sheets of carbon fibre textile and resin. Several layers resulted in a serviceable socket which, when baked dry, would be fitted with the wrist and hook assembly. Then it was a simple matter of attaching the arms to a canvas harness and adjusting the control cables to a suitable length. With any luck, it might be ready for Jim to try on by late afternoon. The new hooks had not been delivered yet but he could use the ones he had shown Jim earlier. Everything else was to hand. Alvarado enjoyed his work, both the medical and manufacturing aspects and the psychological and human aspects of repairing desperate broken patients.

 

The afternoon rolled on. The sockets had been baked and a harness prepared. The final animation code was almost ready. Jim was busy sending the same email message to his friends and relatives reporting his misfortune. Tom was rolling around the entire hospital in a wheelchair and enjoying himself tremendously. He was ecstatic to have a fantastic leg stump, better than any he could have ever dared to hope for. When he got out on his new leg, his new prosthesis, his new artificial leg, oh it sounded so good, he was going to buy Mark a gigantic bottle of the best cognac and they could toast each other. He should actually text Mark and tell him not to feel bad about what had happened. Poor sod must be feeling pretty miserable. He got his phone out and invited Mark to the hospital during visiting hours.

 

Guy turned up at reception soon after five.

            – Hello. I have come to see James Dickinson.

The receptionist looked up at him and was startled by the astonishingly handsome moustache and the beautiful teeth behind his smile. She felt suddenly moist.

            – I’ll let him know you’re here. Please sit over there.

She wanted to feast her eyes on him more.

            – Thank you.

She glanced away for a moment and looked up again. The most handsome man she had seen all year was lurching away on crutches. Something was seriously wrong with both his legs. She was shocked and enchanted – how could such a handsome and vulnerable man exist? If only she could see his ruined legs and make love to them! Look at him! He hadn’t even sat down. Just leaning on his crutches, checking his phone. Jim exited the lift and saw Guy.

            – Hey Guy! Good to see you, man! Come over here. Let’s go upstairs.

Guy pulled himself into motion and followed Jim into the lift. Jim thrust his stumps at Guy.

            – Look what I have, Guy. I did it for you. For us. I want to be disabled too. I hope you can understand. I want you to want me. I just want to be with you!

Guy’s very worst suspicions were true, then. His workmates were mutilating themselves for his attention and favour.

            – No, you did it for you, not me! It is not my fault!

The lift doors opened and Jim led Guy to his ward. He explained where his wallet and keycard was and made Guy write down the door code and gave him the address.

            – OK, Jim. I will bring your jacket tomorrow evening. Or leave it at reception.

            – No! Bring it to me, please.

            – OK. I must go now.

Quite exceptionally for Guy, he leant forward and kissed Jim on the lips. Jim was surprised and struck speechless. Guy turned and thrust his caliper into motion.

 

Jim spent much of the night trying to wank with his stumps but they were too short to reach his dick. He squirmed around trying to fuck the mattress but that was no good either. Eventually, some time after two, he fell asleep exhausted and dreamed of himself and Guy as quadruple amputees both wearing four artificial limbs, sunning themselves and enjoying the surf on a deserted island. He woke up in a damp patch and realised he had had a wet dream.

 

Nurses were used to changing sheets so it was no great deal for them to see that another young male patient had ejaculated during the night. They knew the men got no pleasure from it. Jim however was mortified and wanted to get out of the ward, away from the nurses. Like a saviour, Alvorado arrived after a quick shower and invited Jim to orthotics for an initial trial fitting. Jim nearly came again.

 

There was nothing to do at Antex. Guy finished his code by eleven in the morning and the rest of the crew tested it on various formats. It worked on all of them and was sent to the video department to have subtitles and logos in various languages added before being distributed to the four big media companies. The ads would pop up between YouTube videos and Insta screens and generally torment all viewers twenty times a day for the next two months. Sales would go through the roof. So it transpired. Unlike the sophisticated youth on whom the trial had been run, worldwide, young teenagers had a huge appetite for killing zombies and Choking Zombies held top spot for software for three consecutive weeks. Astonishingly, it was Antex’s most successful release to date. A celebration was promised for all when the newly disabled crew members had returned to work.

 

            – I want you to understand that this version of your prosthetic arms is what you are going home with. But there is a lot of detail to work through first, adjustment and the like. So if you feel helpless when you first put them on, don’t worry. There are many things we can adjust and improve. Do you understand?

            – Yes. First impressions and all that.

            – Exactly. I will fetch your prostheses.

He rose and looked back at Jim with a grin on his face. He liked the man and wished him well and had worked into overtime the previous evening to finish – as far as was possible – the gleaming black arms which he brought from the storeroom and placed before Jim. He looked at Jim’s face. He very rarely saw such an enthusiastic appraisal. Jim leaned forward and touched the sockets with his stumps. He looked at Alvarado with tears in his eyes and said They’re beautiful.

            – Are they what you expected?

            – No! They are far more – I can’t think of a word. They look so good, it was worth losing my hands for.

            – Steady on, old man. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Now, I am going to put them on you. Pay attention to the order in which I do it. First I arrange the harness on the table like this. Make sure the left prosthesis is on the left and the right on the right. You can tell by the slant on the sockets but for the time being I have stuck an L and R on the harness. Now lean forward and work your stump between these straps. They form a triangle, don’t they? When you see the triangle, you’re on the right track. Do the same with your other stump. Good. Now push your stumps into the sockets. Ah, you can’t. You’ll have to use one stump to help the other. Take the right stump out of the harnessing and use it to keep the left socket still while you work the stump in. Push. Deeper. Get your elbow past the ridge. That’s it. Now put your right stump into the triangle, into the socket and push it in using your other arm.

 

            – Now you have your arms in front of you but also the harnessing. You have to pay attention to how the harness is arranged. To use the harness, you have to get it over your shoulders. Lift your arms up and spread your elbows so the harness forms a bridge above your head. Now you can duck your head and lower the harness behind you over your shoulders. Try it. Oh dear, it seems to be twisted. You can’t use it like that, so you now have to take the whole thing off and start again. Make sure the harness is straight next time.

            – You should have told me!

            – No, Jim. I am teaching you how to use your new artificial arms. You will never have any other kind. Spend an hour with me now to save a lifetime of frustration. I want you to know how they work, all their problems, everything you need to take into account. When they get tangled up, I want you to be able to untangle them. When they become loose, you must be able to tighten them. How will you do these things, Jim? No? Well, let me show you. Take your artificial arms off and let’s rearrange them so that when you try to put them on next time, they sit properly over your shoulders.

 

He looked at Jim earnestly as Jim wriggled and tried to rearrange the uncomfortable clump of straps in the middle of his back. Jim reversed his previous actions, raised his arms above his head and shrugged the harness off his back. It dropped down in front of his face.

            – You’ll have to take them off altogether, Jim. Does it seem like a lot of unnecessary bother? Of course it is. You have lost your hands and from now on you will use these steel hooks which operate by shrugging your shoulders. It doesn’t happen automatically. You can’t simply think, oh, I’ll do this and that and have the hooks open and close. You have to be able to see what you are doing and make the appropriate movements to operate your hooks. The hooks have no feeling, remember. If you can not see what you are doing, you will probably not be able to do it. Even taking your phone out of your pocket will be hit and miss. So you have to give the equipment a chance to help you by first wearing it correctly. Sorry if all that sounds harsh, but it is your new reality.

            – Yeah, I get the general idea. This isn’t going to be as easy as I expected. Show me how to do this properly.

            – Jim, I am putting you through a learning process. I made sure the harness was twisted so you could experience it and learn to correct it. Will you remember to look out for a twisted harness from now on?

            – I guess so.

            – Then you are learning. Put it all on the table again and let’s see what went wrong.

 

The afternoon passed as Jim donned and doffed his new arms many times. Alvarado adjusted the cable length and Jim was able to control his hooks to Alvarado’s satisfaction. Jim found it strangely exhilarating to see the hooks open when he wanted them to.

            – You are a fast learner, Jim. I congratulate you. Some amputees spend years without understanding how their equipment works. And they never learn to use it effectively. They remain disabled. You’re not going to remain disabled, are you, Jim?

            – The fuck I am!

            – That’s the spirit.

            – Can I wear these for the rest of today, now I know how to take them off?

            – I’m trying to think of a reason why you may not. I can’t. Yes, Jim, wear them for as long as they feel comfortable. Take them off immediately if either stump starts to chafe or hurt. I want them back tomorrow morning though. They still need some finishing touches.

 

Guy left Antex and went to Jim’s flat to collect a jacket. He usually wore army surplus, so maybe he had an M-65 jacket, something roomy and easy to put on which would hide his hooks when he came out. Guy got off the tram and crutched along to the street in the address. It looked very industrial and Guy was confused. He rechecked the address. Number seven. That was three. It must be further along. A seven storey former warehouse with a seven storey high number seven painted onto its frontage appeared to be the correct address. Guy looked for an entrance and saw a likely opening. He tried the key and the door slid open to reveal an ultramodern lobby with steel mesh sofas and potted plants and lots of glowing uplights illuminating the ceiling. If was quite spectacular. He worked his way to a lift. There were three in a row, large cages behind glass walls. The first one obeyed a call and he rose to the fifth floor. The apartment was the third door along. He tried the keycode Jim had given him and the door clicked open. Guy used a crutch tip to pull the door open and went in. The apartment was enormous. Easily three hundred square metres. It looked out onto the river, old docks and beyond it all a couple of 1930s suburbs. The hills loomed in the distance and beyond them, invisible, was the sea. What a beautiful loft! Guy thought he might do anything to live in such a luscious space. Jim must have inherited some money to be able to afford a place like this. Lucky man! Then Guy remembered Jim’s stumps and revised his opinion.

 

Where was the closet? He looked around him and saw a room-sized white cube in the windowless corner. It might be the bedroom. He crutched across and found that it was. A walk-in closet filled one wall and Guy picked out a well-worn M-65. It would roll up into his backpack without creasing too much. He did not want to spoil any expensive or valuable clothing.

 

Guy looked around the loft, admiring the sparse but handsome furniture, the wooden floor, and wondered what it would be like to live in such a wondrous place. He called for a taxi, closed the apartment and descended in the lift to the waiting taxi.

            – To the hospital, please.

            – Are you OK, mate?

            – Yes, I’m just visiting my friend.

            – Alright, just checking.

 

Guy crutched into the hospital entrance and announced himself to the receptionist again. She immediately recognised him and plumped up her cleavage. Guy said he had something for James Dickinson.

            – I’ll see if he’s free. Please sit down for a moment.

            – I can’t sit on low seats. I will stand.

            – What’s wrong with your legs?

            – One has a leg brace and one is made of wood.

            – It must be very difficult.

            – They are just my legs. I don’t care.

            – You are very brave.

Jim came downstairs in the lift and stood where Guy could see him. Guy broke into a big smile.

            – You have hooks! Wonderful!

Guy crutched over to the lift and Jim touched Guy’s face. Steel on flesh. Guy was excited.

            – Let’s go upstairs.

He pressed the floor button with the farmer’s hook.

            – Did you find my flat OK?

            – Yes. Do you live there alone?

            – I do. It would be good to share it with someone. Did you find a jacket?

            – It’s in my backpack.

The lift doors opened and the disabled men walked along to Jim’s ward. Guy leant his crutches against Jim’s bed and shrugged the backpack off. He took out the olive green jacket and handed it to Jim.

            – Thank you, Guy. That was very kind of you to help me. I think I am going to need more help in the future.

He raised his hooks and cast a doubtful glance at them.

            – These are not replacement hands. They are steel hooks like something from a toolbox. There will be so many things I will not be able to do. I can still work, of course. That’s just typing.

            – You will learn, I am sure. Everything is difficult in the beginning.

            – Yes, I suppose you are right. Let me put this in my locker. He hooked the jacket by an epaulet and pulled the door open. He managed to fumble the jacket onto a hook and grimaced at it hanging untidily. He shut the door with his knee.

            – Shall we go to the canteen for some coffee? I will treat you!

            – Yes, that would be good. Thank you.

They went downstairs to the canteen, adjacent to Reception, and immediately ran into a problem. They both wanted something to eat as well, a croissant or similar. Jim managed to extract a tray from a pile and half-dropped it onto the counter. Guy could handle plates and cups of coffee when he leaned against the counter, being careful not to let his crutches slip. Jim had promised to pay but could not retrieve his wallet.

            – Guy? Can you get my wallet? It’s in my right pocket.

Guy found it and made to hand it to Jim but stopped halfway. He looked at Jim’s face. Jim looked confused.

            – Can you get my debit card out and pay, please?

Guy did so and put the wallet back in Jim’s pocket. Then the next problem presented itself. How would they get the tray to a table?

            – I don’t think I can carry that, Guy.

He turned to the cashier.

            – Excuse me! Is there anyone who could bring this tray to our table?

            – Well, I’ll do it. Go and find a seat and I’ll bring it over.

            – Thank you. That’s very kind of you.

They looked around and saw Tom in a wheelchair on the far side of the room.

            – Look who’s over there! Let’s join him.

They walked over and called out.

            – Tom mate! Good to see you. What’s with the wheelchair?

            – Jim! And Guy! Sit down and join me. Haven’t you heard, Jim? I’ve lost my leg.

            – Christ! When did that happen?

            – Coupla weeks ago. Car fell on it. So off it came.

He pulled his chair back from the table and spun it so they could see Tom’s new pride and joy.

            – Well, it looks fantastic, mate.

The cashier brought their coffee and snacks.

            – Are you going to get a leg or just use crutches?

            – Haven’t made my mind up yet. And look at you with the hooks and everything! Are you getting on with them?

            – I’ve only had them for a few hours. Don’t seem to be able to do much with them. I couldn’t get my wallet. Couldn’t carry the tray.

            – Don’t think about what you can’t do, mate. Think about what you can do. It’ll take a while to learn all the tricks but you can’t expect to be an expert after two hours.

            – No, you’re right. Now, how am I going to pick that cup up?

Tom and Guy watched with considerable interest as Jim manoeuvred his right hook towards its handle. The hook opened but was obviously not going to work. It was at the wrong angle. He pushed the cup along the table towards his left farmer’s hook and tried with that. It opened with the fingers pointing upward.

            – Maybe you could pick the whole cup up? Forget the handle.

Jim managed to grab the cup but it slipped in the steel fingers and fell, splashing its contents all over the table.

            – Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck. Sorry.

            – I’ll get a cloth or something.

Tom rolled across to the cashier and asked for something to mop up some spilt coffee. She said she would deal with it in a moment.

            – She’s coming over in a minute. Do you still want some coffee, Jim?

            – Not really. No thanks.

Guy and Tom finished theirs and Guy said he should go. Maybe he would come to visit again.

            – It would be good to see you, Guy. It always is.

Guy collected his crutches and edged his way through the maze of tables, leaving the two amputees to ponder their fates. Tom was really pleased. Jim was not. He left shortly and returned to the ward.

 

At the end of the week, Ellis was deemed fit enough to visit his prosthetist, Julian Nagy, who would analyse his level of disability and suggest solutions. A quick examination emphasized the limitations. Having only one short leg stump presented quite a challenge. Ellis’s empty pelvis had insufficient tissue to allow him to sit upright. He would need a prosthetic stump with a flattened base to hold his hips level to prevent lumbar problems. The stump would be the lower part of a rigid corset reaching to his armpits. His torso would de facto become a crutch for the artificial stump. Any prosthetic device for his genuine stump would need to be supported by the corset. It would be an awkward prosthesis to don, uncomfortable and sweaty much of the time. In addition, Ellis would always need elbow crutches for mobility. The man was almost completely legless but young bilateral amputees frequently insisted on using prostheses until experience persuaded them into wheelchairs.

 

Ellis listened to Nagy’s opinion about the kinds of options available to him. They all involved wearing a plastic shell with a built-in stump. He thought it sounded fairly horny, a bit like some device in an S/M adventure.

            – What about my artificial leg? What do you recommend for that?

            – Ellis, you must come to terms with the fact that your stump is too short to allow the use of a full-length prosthesis. The best you can expect is a short leg or stump boot, called a stubby, which you wear over the stump like a sheath. It will be extended a little, perhaps as far as knee length. You will be able to use two short elbow crutches to alternately balance on first the crutches and then the stump boot.

            – So I’ll be a short arse? I won’t be as tall as I used to be?

            – That is correct.

            – What about this stubby? What will it look like?

            – It will be cylindrical, about ten or twelve centimetres in diameter at its base. The top part will be moulded to fit your stump and there will be a steel strut running up the length of the stump boot and the body socket with a hinge at your pelvis to allow you to sit. Otherwise you would be completely rigid from your armpits down. You do wish to be able to sit, do you not? It is perfectly possible to make an entirely rigid body socket which incorporates the stump boot.

            – Maybe I could have two and choose between them.

            – Indeed you could, but you will leave here with only one type. The other you can order and pay for independently. The mould will suffice for both types. But you have several days to think about that. First we need to take plaster casts of your body in order to make the body socket.

            – I was wondering about the stump boot. Could it be made in the shape of a peg leg? My stump would be inside the upper wide part and then below it there would be just a steel rod or something with a rubber stopper on it.

            – A ferrule. The stopper is called a ferrule.

            – Oh. Well, would that be possible?

            – It’s a very unusual request but considering the utility of a stump boot, I don’t think a peg leg would make much difference. Is that what you would like?

            – Yes, a peg leg which detaches from the socket so I can have a short one or a longer one.

            – I see. You have been thinking this through, haven’t you? Yes. Actually that is quite a good idea. I shall put in an application and see if you can be supplied with two pegs for your thigh socket.

            – Thank you.

Ellis’s libido was returning and he was nursing a semi at the thought of walking on crutches and one peg leg. The long process of casting his ruined lower body began.

 

Alvarado had retrieved Jim’s prosthetic arms the following morning to complete them to his professional standard and Jim was left to cope with his stumps.

            – Were you able to use the hooks yesterday, Mr Dickinson?

            – Sort of. I could press the lift buttons. I tried to pick up a cup of coffee but I dropped it. And I couldn’t get my wallet out of my pocket.

            – No, it all takes time to learn. I want to finish working on these before I let you have them. I understand you will be discharged this weekend. Is there someone at home who can help you?

            – No, there isn’t.

Alvarado looked at Jim with a degree of concern. He was going to confront a very steep, and very discouraging, learning curve. It could not be helped. He picked up the arms by their harness and went to his workshop.

 

It was Tom’s turn to be casted for a prosthesis. Julian Nagy collected him on Friday morning. He introduced himself and explained his business.

            – Do you have crutches? No? Never mind. Come with me to the workshop and we can get started.

They entered and Nagy slid the door closed.

            – Take your trousers and socks off. I’m going to cast your stump and you will need to stand up for that. Go and sit on the bench by the support bars, that’ll be best. Have you thought about an artificial limb? Done any independent research?

            – I have thought about an artificial limb, yes. I do not want an articulating leg. I want a peg leg which can be quickly detached from the socket if I need to sit.

            – Good grief! What is it with peg legs all of a sudden! You’re the second person to want one this week!

            – I’ve heard they are easy to walk on, comfortable, very secure and lightweight. Also they look very cool. So I’d like one of those, please.

            – You have done your homework! Alright, fine. I have nothing against it. I can make you a detachable peg – will a threaded interface work for you? You’d unscrew the peg when you want to sit.

            – Exactly that. Perfect!

            – This will be an easier job than I thought. OK, let’s get started. Stand up between the bars and hold on to them.

He threw the first of several plaster bandages into a bucket of warm water and spread a tarpaulin onto the floor. The bandage was sufficiently wetted and he began casting Tom’s stump.

 

The next day at noon, Alvarado returned to Jim’s ward. He was sitting on his bed with the touch screen stylus taped to his arm stump scrolling though a news site. Alvarado wished him a good afternoon and lifted up a glossy black pair of prosthetic arms with black leather bicep cuffs and brand new hooks.

            – Here they are. The hooks which I ordered arrived yesterday so these are brand new for you. And the cuffs are now made to measure and look very smart, although I say so myself. I have tightened the harness slightly. Shall we go to the workshop and you can try it on. By the way, I have your discharge papers. When you sign for receipt of these arms you’ll be free to collect your things and leave for home.

            – Great! Now that’s made my day! Let’s go.

Alvarado held on to the arms and Jim followed, hugely relieved to be going home. Back in the workshop, Alvarado lay the arms on the table and asked Jim to don them.

            – Those aren’t marked with a left or right but you’ll always be able to tell by the hooks – the farmer’s hook is on the left socket. Make sure the harness is not twisted.

            – I remember!

Jim leaned forward and arranged the prostheses with his stumps. He looked at Alvarado, who nodded. Jim donned the left socket, forced his stump into the opening and shook his arm. The socket felt secure. Donning the right socket went just as well. A final check to see the cables were attached correctly and the harness flat, he lifted his arms and ducked his head forward to position the harness over his shoulders. He waved his arms in turn to move the harness down into a comfortable position and pushed his arms forward to open the hooks, then opened each independently and finally held them in place and shrugged each shoulder. The hooks opened. Alvarado was genuinely impressed.

            – These seem to work. Did you say you’d tightened the harness? It feels better than during the week. More responsive.

            – Good. Right, now let’s practise using them. You had some problem with getting your wallet, is that right?

            – Yes.

            – Obviously you can no longer feel anything you have in your pockets, neither can you see what you are touching. If your wallet is the only object in there, and the hook is angled in such a way that it can grab it, you should manage it after one or two attempts. Same with your phone. Keep them in different pockets. Or use a satchel, something you can peer into so you can see what you’re touching.

            – What can I do to get the hooks to a correct angle?

            – Did you not realise? The wrists can be rotated a few degrees left or right. Of course, their travel is restricted by the length of the cable. They are stiff quite intentionally. But to rotate them, you could place the hook into a door jamb or a slightly open drawer and twist your arm a little to reposition the hook. You have no rotational device on these prostheses, although such items are available. You will have to do it manually, so to speak. Unfortunately, rotating anything is difficult with a hook prosthesis. You have to rotate your body to twist a key, for example, or to open a door handle. I hope you have no round door knobs at home. They are quite a challenge.

            – No, the doors either slide or open electronically.

            – Good. Now feeding yourself. I have – here – a box of utensils and cups and the like. Different types of cutlery. Try picking all of them up and imagine trying to eat something from the forks. You will find that flat designs which your hooks can grip easily are preferable to a traditional rococo style with its round shaft. Try that one. Almost useless, isn’t it? But that flat brushed stainless steel should work well. Push the tines down with your other hook and you can grab the handle. 

Jim tried all the items and often succeeded after a few attempts.

            – Now, about dressing. I am guessing that you are going to have to buy a few new items. You will find buttons a challenge. Zips are easier, especially if you thread a keyring through the hole in the tab. Tying shoelaces is difficult. So I suggest investing in some elasticated sportswear and shoes without laces. Try to avoid jackets with tight-fitting sleeves because they can interfere with the harness and cabling. It will take you much longer to dress than you expect, so bear that in mind. Also, put a t-shirt on first before you don the prostheses. Otherwise the harness will chafe your skin very quickly.

            – Sounds like I am going to have to go shopping, then.

            – I would assume so. If you do develop a rash, stop using the harness immediately. Take it off until the skin heals. Both your arms are attached to the one harness at the moment. It is possible to remove either one of them so you can use the other singly. If you have no-one to help you, just call in here and I will see to it. Now, new hooks. After a few weeks you will learn what applications those hooks are good for. It may be that you would prefer to use two Number Fives – two of those – and I can order them for a lower price than if you order one yourself online. Unless you buy secondhand, of course. All Hosmer-style hooks fit all sockets, so there’s no problem there. I am including a tool to allow new rubber bands to tighten the grip, but if you are finding those four bands adequate, don’t put any more on. They need to be renewed every few months as they can dry out and lose their elasticity. Any questions?

            – Not yet. I’m sure I will have.

            – Yes, so am I. You can message me any time and I will reply as soon as possible. If you are ready, sign this paper and the prostheses are yours.

            – Sign?

            – Yes, writing is something else you’ll have to practice. Here’s a pen.

Jim plucked it from Alvarado’s fingers and tried to orientate it to a suitable writing position. After several tries, the tip faced the paper and Jim created his new signature for the first time.

 

Twenty minutes later, he was in a taxi on his way home to his new lifestyle. He succeeded first time at using his debit card in the taxi and entering the building and his loft. A rancid smell filled the space and he opened the veranda door to air the place. He checked the refrigerator and recoiled in disgust. He found a plastic bag and picked the rotten items out one by one and dropped them into the bag. He needed to go grocery shopping. Also disinfect the fridge. But first things first. He would have a drink to celebrate returning home with the glistening new arms and their perfect gleaming steel hooks. He went to his drinks stash in the lounge area and plucked out a new bottle of Scotch. He held the square bottle easily with the farmer’s hook but was unable to dislodge the unopened metal cap. He had been warned about the difficulty of rotating and turning and twisting. This is what it meant. He understood now. He returned to the kitchen, grabbed the stinking bag of rotten food and went shopping for supper.

 

Guy made his way home as usual on a Friday evening. There had been no after-work pub visits since the spate of accidents. Maybe people were not in the mood, or more likely, the accident victims were usually the instigators of a few drinks. Guy preferred to think of the new amputees as accident victims. None of it had anything to do with him. He was simply a quite coincidental exemplar, someone whom they admired and wished to emulate. What they did with their lives, with their bodies, was nothing to do with him. Was it? Guy realised he should stop lying to himself and confront the truth to stop the torment.

 

Nagy was working late on Tom’s peg leg. The socket was ready and the steel threaded receptor had been embedded in its base and secured with additional carbon fibre and resin. It would be as solid as a rock by morning. He texted Tom. i forgot to ask you. what colour do you want your peg to be? you can have bare steel or anodized black gloss. Tom requested black. ok thanks. your peg will be ready monday. Tom spent the next hour fantasizing about wearing a peg leg to work, on the train, in a pub, at home, no that was boring. No-one would see him there. He would make sure he had a wank sock to hand before he climbed into bed that night. He rubbed his stump slowly to increase the feeling. A happier amputee was rarely seen.

 

Ellis was not so happy. He had expected to rock up to work as tall as he used to be with only one artificial leg. He would look elegant and enviable with one trouser leg tucked in to his waistband. He would have been the star of the show. But now he would be a short cunt on short crutches with a short peg leg. The peg leg would bend at the hip like a normal leg except it would not feel anything and would look completely alien. Guy would look down on him and laugh. He tried to imagine how he would get up from a sitting position. Fuck! How would he even be able to sit on a normal chair? He’d have to dump his crutches first and try to pull himself up, backwards, with his arms. It did not seem likely to succeed. Short cunt with a peg leg. Haha! Despite his negative thoughts, he had a raging hard-on and wanked himself to orgasm in half a minute.

 

Jim returned from the supermarket with fresh food in packages he could open with hooks. So he hoped. If he was unable to rip them open, he would have to use scissors. He paused, thinking about how he could use scissors. He shook his head and waved a wet cloth around the interior of the fridge before filling it with fresh produce. Maybe Guy would like to come over. He could stay the night. First of all, he could open every bottle of alcohol in Jim’s stash. Jim sent a text. i’m home. i need company. please come for the night. i need a little help. Guy was half expecting some kind of invitation after Jim was released. He would go and demand to hear the truth about Jim’s amputations. Yes, he would stay the night. ok  give me an hour. open door when taxi comes. Jim would have to be downstairs by the entrance when Guy arrived. It couldn’t be helped. Every neighbour who arrived or left would see him and ask what on earth had happened to his hands. If only he could tell the truth. Oh, I thrust them under a tram. Oh, I see. Well, have a nice day. He would just say Road accident and have done with it. It was none of their business. Guy would be a different matter.

 

Nagy was about done for the night. The socket was ready. Tom might be able to wear it. He texted him. come to my workshop to test your socket. Tom looked at the time and wondered what was going on. ok on my way. He jumped into his wheelchair and scooted down the corridor to the orthotics workshop and knocked on the door. Nagy opened it.

            – Hi! I was just about to leave when I had an idea, knowing you haven’t had any experience with crutches. Your socket is ready, so I thought if you wear it over the weekend, it will protect you if you take a tumble on crutches. So sit down there. You are going to have a pin system which means you have to align your liner and the pin very accurately to get the socket on. Alignment is especially important for you otherwise you’ll be tripping over your peg. Put this on. You’ll have to take your trousers off first.

Nagy handed the pin liner to Tom and showed him how to roll it onto the stump and remove it again. He fetched the socket and pushed it onto the stump until it engaged.

            – Now stand up and push down as far as you can. You need to hear four or five more clicks. Then the socket is firmly in place. This is the release when you want to take it off. Right. Now, what sort of crutches do you want? Aluminium elbow crutches or wooden axillary crutches which come up to your armpits?

            – Oh, axillaries are much better.

            – Yes, I think so too. Much easier on the arms. Wait a moment and I’ll fetch a pair.

He went into the stock room and picked a pair of light wooden axillaries.

            – Stand up and I’ll adjust the height. Put your arms down by your side. That’s right. OK, sit down.

Nagy adjusted both crutches to the ideal length and handed them to Tom.

            – I want you to put these in place under your arms and stand up straight. Don’t run off just yet. OK, there’s room enough. You see, when you walk with these, you should not lean on them. You need to hold your arms firmly in position and hold onto the crossbars. The top of the crutch should be a bit below your armpits. Practise walking with them. Take a few steps. First move the crutches forward. Now keep your arms straight and swing your leg forward. Walk over there and let me see. Don’t stick your stump out! OK, turn around and come back. Good. How does the socket feel?

            – Fine.

It actually felt so fine that he had an erection.

            – OK, practice using those for the rest of the weekend. It will save time next week and you can go home earlier. Your discharge papers are already waiting for you. You just need your peg leg and you’re all set and ready. Do you want to crutch back to the ward or use the wheelchair?

            – I’ll use these.

            – OK, let’s go.

Nagy sat in the wheelchair and the pair returned to Tom’s ward. Tom loved the way the crutches extended his stride.

            – See you on Monday!

 

Jim was waiting for Guy in the downstairs lobby when he arrived. No-one had made any comment about his hooks as they passed him. Just a quick nod and a smile. It gave him confidence to be seen as one of the neighbours, just like before. So he had steel hooks instead of hands. So what? That’s life. Get on with it.

            – Hello Guy! Thank you for coming. You brought your toothbrush?

            – Yes I have some stuff.

            – Let’s go upstairs. There’s something I want you to do for me.

They ascended in the lift and entered Jim’s loft. The rotten smell had dissipated. Evening lights up and down the riverbank glinted in the water and they stood at the vast window wall admiring the scene.

            – Where do you want to sit, Guy? You can sit in any chair. I will help you up again.

            – OK, let’s go over there.

It was the area Jim called the lounge. Two long sofas, one white, one red, faced each other with a long steel coffee table between them. Guy dropped his crutches and lowered himself onto the red sofa. His caliper stuck out and he disengaged its knee locks. His booted foot dropped to the floor. He looked expectantly at Jim who had watched him take his seat.

            – Is it too low? Do you need help to get up?

            – I can get up myself but it is easier if someone can pull me. You said you have a job for me. What is it?

            – Open a bottle for me. Otherwise we shall be thirsty. Wait a moment.

He fetched the bottle of whisky and one of vodka.

            – Open these please. I can’t do it.

            – Why not? Are your hooks not strong?

            – No! It’s because they don’t turn.

            – Oh! That is not good. We must think of a way.

            – Yes, well, I must at any rate. You had to learn how to walk two times. I have to learn how to open a bottle of whisky. Shall I get some glasses? Would you like a drink? Whisky?

            – Yes please, Jim.

Jim carefully extracted two straight glasses from his kitchen cupboard and brought them back. He put them upside down onto the table.

            – You see, I can’t turn them up the right way. Can you turn them and pour me a good four fingers?

Guy sloshed a third of the bottle into two glasses. Jim very carefully picked up a glass with the Number Five hook and brought it towards his face. The rim met his lips and he tilted his entire body back until the fiery liquid flowed into his mouth. He took another gulp and leaned forward to place the glass on the table. He shrugged to release the glass and sat back in triumph. Guy clapped.

            – Well done, Jim. I am happy for you. You have beautiful arms. I like them very much. Did you do it for me?

            – Yes, it’s all for you, Guy. You said you would only love a disabled guy so I made myself disabled. Can you love me now?

            – Yes, I can love you now. But how can we be together? Do you want me to live here? You need someone to help you. Do you think I can help you? I am very disabled. My legs are shit. You know that. Let me show you.

Guy very rarely revealed his legs to anyone but he opened his belt and pulled his trousers off. His pitifully thin natural leg was visible inside its metal frame and his glossy wooden leg caught the lights and made them lifeless.

            – This is what I have to help you. Is this what you want? How can I help you with these legs?

            – They are beautiful legs, Guy. You wear them so well. You can do everything. You can go anywhere. You have your crutches but look at me! I have these hooks. I can not even open a bottle. I am so disabled. I hope you will love me and my stumps. Let me show you my stumps.

Jim lifted his arms over his head and the harness rose with them. He put the right hook between his knees and worked his arm out of the socket and followed it with the left. He grasped the gear with his stumps and dumped it all on the sofa beside him.

            – Look at these, Guy! Aren’t they beautiful? You inspired me to do this for us. I can never touch anyone, never feel your skin or your beautiful stubble, never run my fingers through your hair. But I am disabled, like you said you wanted. I hope you can love my little stumps. I want you here with me.

Guy was silent as Jim explained the awful truth. He was responsible for Jim disabling himself. It was not relevant that Jim had always wanted hooks instead of hands. Guy himself was the reason for his actions. What about the others?

            – Jim. I can love you now. I can be here with you. But on one condition and it is very important. This is a big place. I want you to let Tom and Ellis come here to live too. We will be a foursome. A gang of disabled men who love each other and help each other. If you allow them to come here too, I will move here and we can all help each other. You see, now I need your help. I must get up. I need to pee.

            – Hold on to my upper arms.

Jim leaned back and pulled Guy up. Guy left his crutches behind and walked mechanically to the toilet. Jim watched him and felt his penis rise. The wooden leg was so erotic. He pulled his artificial arms back onto the table and arranged them. He was wearing the prostheses when Guy returned and collapsed onto the sofa.

            – Guy, we can divide this place into four. We can even put in another floor. There is room here for four amputees. We can all help each other, I agree. Would you like that?

            – Yes, Jim. I am the reason you are all disabled. We must help each other. Thank you for agreeing.

They both got very drunk and fell unconscious on the sofa wearing their prosthetic limbs. Jim’s short prosthetic arms twitched as he dreamed of fondling Guy’s face as they lay in the sun with eight black carbon prosthetic limbs collecting the sun’s golden rays.

 

Both were awake by midday on Saturday, both with terrible hangovers. They finished off the vodka and looked in the fridge for something to eat. They gave up on the idea and returned to the sofa. Jim brought two bottles of wine and they spent a boozy afternoon touching each other’s bodies, caressing each other’s faces and exploring each other’s prosthetic limbs. Guy said he could stay the whole weekend.

 

Monday again. At eight, Nagy had demanded his socket back from Tom who reported a good comfortable fit. Next job was to cut the pylon to size, grind a thread at one end and find a suitable ferrule for the tip. Job done by eleven.

            – Tom, come with me please. Use the crutches. How have you got on with them?

            – I haven’t toppled over, although I’ve mostly been inside where it’s flat. I went out into the yard once but it was drizzling so I came back.

            – OK. The main thing is that you’ve been walking around on them without falling. I didn’t think you would, strong young bloke like yourself. Well, I’ve got the pylon ready. Pylon is the peg bit, if you didn’t know. Here we are. Put your liner on and we can give it a try.

Tom rolled the liner back on itself and positioned it against the end of his stump. He rolled the firm elastic sheath up his stump and reached for the socket. A few clicks and it was firmly attached to his stump and ready to accept the pylon. Nagy inspected the socket’s fit and asked Tom if anything felt too tight. There was no problem. Nagy fetched the pylon.

            – Lift up your stump. I will screw this in and you can stand on it but don’t try to walk, OK?

He twisted the pylon for five full rotations before it could tighten no more.

            – OK, stand up, let’s have a look. I made the threads wide enough so you need only five full twists to get the pylon completely on or completely off. It should take you only a few seconds after you practise a bit. The top of the thread is chamfered so you can find the socket thread more easily. OK, it’s all yours. Go for it!

Tom swung his peg leg out to the side and stepped forward. He did it again and kept the momentum. He reached the far wall, turned and strutted back with a huge grin and a huge erection.

            – I was going to give you some tips but it looks like you have got the knack already. It also looks like you are enjoying it. Well, put your trousers back on and sign this form. Then you can collect your clothes and stuff from the ward and go home. Thank you for being an ideal patient, Tom. I wish all of them had the same kind of initiative.

            – Thank you, Dr Nagy. I feel like I am who I want to be at last.

            – I’m happy to hear it. Take care and message me if you need help with anything.

Tom walked back to the ward, savouring every step, enjoying the new pressure on his stump, loving the peg’s rigidity, glancing at every reflection to see himself as the peg legged man he had wanted to be since he was about seven years old. And he had not had to do it himself. It was all above board.

 

He did some grocery shopping on the way home and decided to cut off the left legs of his jeans at the knee so his peg was entirely visible. He had not received nearly enough attention on the way home.

 

Monday again and next up was Ellis. He should be out by Friday one way or another. Nagy reviewed his notes. Left disart, right above knee. Torso socket with left extension. Stubby or peg for right stump. He had the moulds and the measurements. Now he had to get the patient.

 

            – Ellis! Good morning. I hope you’re feeling fit. It going to be a long day, I’m afraid. Jump into this wheelchair and we’ll get going.

The seat had a thick cushion to support Ellis’s empty pelvis. His right stump looked fully healed. It was a good shape. A stubby would fit very well. That was one small blessing in this disaster.

            – The first stage is to ensure that your torso socket, the body shell, is a good tight fit. It will be what supports your weight. It is necessary to take the pressure off your left side to even you out. It is a bitch to put on and a bitch to wear but modern prosthetics knows no other way to help a patient such as yourself. You are very fortunate in that you have kept one leg stump. Most patients I make torso sockets for are missing both lower limbs entirely. So you will have your peg leg, don’t worry. First we need something to anchor it to. Are you with me so far?

            – Yes, I understand. My whole body will be encased so I can have a fake stump on the left?

            – Exactly that. Without it, your back would be screaming in agony at the end of every day. It’s not so bad. No-one will know you are wearing it unless you choose to show them. Now, I have made a preliminary version which we will be testing this morning. The idea is that you tell me if you feel excess pressure anywhere. There should be pressure, but not so it’s painful. Do you understand?

            – Yes, I guess so.

            – Good. Here is the back part of the socket. Can you push yourself up and I will slip it behind you. OK. Now gently let yourself back down.

Ellis lowered himself into a plastic mould of his back. It was cold.

            – And the next bit goes over your tummy. Hold still, here it comes.

The front of the shell was placed over Ellis’s chest and belly and slipped around the sides of the back part. Nagy gathered some velcro straps and fixed the front and rear parts together in four locations.

            – And there you have it. A body shell with a built-in stump. Sit up and try it out.

Ellis struggled and made a good effort but had to give up.

            – How do I do that? My arms aren’t long enough.

            – It’s something you will always need help with. You might be able to use shortened walking sticks, for example, to push yourself the extra bit to get you upright. This time, I will help you.

He asked Ellis to raise himself again and pushed his torso vertical. It sat squarely on the right buttock and the left prosthetic stump.

            – This is the boring bit. I am going to put you into this stand so you’ll be suspended and I want you to just sit there for thirty minutes and then we will look at the imprints the socket has made on your body. Is it already uncomfortable? No? Would you like your phone? Here it is. See you in a bit.

 

Nagy went for coffee and took it to Alvorado’s workshop on the lower floor.

            – Hi! Can I come in? What have you got going on?

            – Just an AE arm. Guy was bitten by a dog and it turned septic. I guess the dog won’t be getting any more treats.

            – Ha! Guess not. I’ve got a young bloke upstairs with a RAK and a left disart. They don’t match up so he’s going to be in a torso socket for the rest of his life.

            – There are worse things.

            – Well yeah, I know. I just feel sorry for him. Good looking, at the best time of life and suddenly he’s just a rigid torso. He wants a peg leg instead of a stubby. Can you believe it? Little short crutches and on a peg leg.

            – Will that work for him?

            – Oh yeah. But think what it will feel like and how it will look. Do you think he’ll ever have a girlfriend again? Sit in a comfortable chair and enjoy the relief? He’ll only ever know the shell.

            – Well, it can’t be helped. The way I think of it is that we’re giving a new chance to people who’ve had a previous life ripped away. Better to have two hooks than nothing and die of hunger because you can't feed yourself. I don’t suppose your guy will be doing much travelling but at least he won’t need to lie in bed for the next sixty years.

            – You’re right. I always come away feeling wiser when I talk to you.

            – Same here. See you!

 

Ellis was still poking through web pages when Nagy returned.

            – How does it feel? Do you feel any pressure along your sides? Do you feel like you’re actually standing?

            – No, there’s no pressure points and it’s hard to describe how I feel about standing. I’m upright and that, but there’s no pressure on my feet so it kind of feels like I’m sitting. Apart from my leg being straight. My stump.

            – Yes, your stump. I don’t yet have the mould ready but I have designed the lower section to look like the peg leg you described. It should be ready this time tomorrow. You can try it on without the torso socket, sitting in a wheelchair. Much easier. Now let’s take a closer look at your body to see if the imager can detect any abnormalities.

He ran an ultrasound scanner along the side of Ellis’s body, then his front and his back. The software generated a heatmap revealing pressure points in his skin which should be corrected.

            – I’m going to take the shell off you.

 

Half an hour later, the analysis was complete.

            – I’m glad to tell you, Ellis, that we are on track and can continue tomorrow with your peg leg. If it fits, your socket and leg will be ready on Thursday evening or Friday morning. Do you have anyone at home who will be able to help you?

            – No, I have my own flat.

            – Ellis, I don’t believe you are going to manage on your own for a few months. The change in your life is so great that you must have someone else to help. Would you like me to arrange home help with social services?

            – No, not just yet.

Ellis intended messaging Guy and inviting him to see how disabled he had made himself. A little bit more than expected perhaps. Guy could do no more than to melt into his arms. It was all he had left.

 

Guy informed his housing association that he wished to terminate the rent agreement at the end of the month. He contacted a removals firm and asked them to send a van with two porters on Saturday week. He spent several evenings packing clothes and electronics which he wanted to keep into cardboard boxes and piled them up near the door. He would not need his existing furniture because Jim’s was more than adequate but it was too late to arrange for their disposal. The table, chairs and stools would have to go first to the loft and be disposed of from there.

 

Ellis was back in the orthotics workshop sitting in a wheelchair on a body-conforming cushion. He kept tilting to his left. It was annoying. Nagy stood at a bench riveting the last of the clamps which would hold the torso socket together in order to provide Ellis with his prosthetic stump. Ellis was impatient to try out his new peg leg.

            – Right! All finished.

Nagy brought the gleaming black carbon section of socket over to Ellis for his inspection and approval.

            – Very smart. Can I see the peg leg too?

            – You can indeed. It’s here under the bench. How do you like the look of it?

            – It’s exactly what I wanted! Can I try it on?

            – Of course. That’s what you’re here for. Put this on first.

Nagy handed Ellis a silicon stump liner.

            – Shall I show you? Turn it inside out first and put the base over the end of your stump. Then roll it forwards over your stump. That’s it. Now try the peg on.

There was considerable resistance but the socket reached Ellis’s groin and ischia. The peg jutted out in front of him.

            – I’m going to wheel you over to the bars and you can practise standing on it. Tell me immediately if anything feels uncomfortable, OK?

            – OK. It looks fantastic.

            – Yes, let’s hope it works as well as it looks. Grab the bars and pull yourself out of the chair. When the peg hits the ground you can pull yourself upright onto it.

Ellis bounced his torso forwards, steadying himself with his arms on the parallel bars. His peg gradually pointed towards the floor and made contact. Ellis straightened his arms and stood balancing on the rubber tip of his first peg leg.

            – Now move your hands forward and take a step on the peg. Good! Another – try lifting yourself a little. Good.

Ellis pegged along the parallel bars, spun around and pegged back. His grin was infectious.

            – You look like you’re really enjoying it, Ellis.

            – I am. It feels fantastic.

            – Sit down in your chair again. I want to check your stump and then the peg needs its belt attachment.

Nagy worked the peg off Ellis’s stump and asked him to roll the liner off. He peered closely at the area around the groin and the end of the leg stump.

            – Did you feel more pressure in one area than another? Any kind of chafing?

            – No. It fits very securely and doesn’t slide up and down as I put weight on it. What’s this belt attachment you mentioned?

            – I am going to rivet a steel strut up the socket which attaches to a wide belt which you will wear over your body shell. There’s a hinge at the hip so the peg can bend forward when you sit. Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to sit at all.

            – Oh. That reminds me. Now that you mention it, I would like to be completely rigid sometimes. I’d like a second socket with built in stubby legs, completely rigid. My stump would fit into the one on the right and the left side would be a built-up fake stump. Both the same length. Cylindrical rigid unmovable stubbies, all part of my body socket.

            – God almighty, you have an imagination! Why would you want to disable yourself even further? Of course, I can make a socket like that with built-in stubbies. It wouldn’t be the first time, but no-one who has a stump has ever asked for anything like it before.

            – But can you make it? Will you make it for me, please?

            – You know you’re entitled to only one prosthetic device when you leave, don’t you?

            – Yes. I don’t mind if I have to pay extra.

            – Well, before we get to that stage, I can make a few enquiries and submit a request for an auxiliary prosthesis. If it is approved, I will make another body shell with two stubbies a bit longer than your stump. You will be rigid from your armpits down, Ellis. You will be able to move only on crutches – oh, but of course, you’re always going to need crutches anyway. Leave it with me. I have all the moulds and measurements I need. I’m doing this as a favour, so you owe me one, Ellis!

            – Thank you very much, Dr Nagy.

            – You’re welcome. Now sit there for a while and I’ll finish the peg. Do you want your phone?

            – Yes, please.

Ellis typed a message to Guy. i’m getting out of hospital today. will you come to visit? i long to see you. Guy replied no u come 2 jim’s home waterman 7. We are here waiting 4 u. don’t go home. Ellis was a little confused but thought nothing more of it.

 

Nagy brought the peg back and explained how the belt wrapped around the shell and was secured. There would be no danger of the peg leg working loose.

            – Now I understand that you are being discharged today. I am concerned that you will have considerable difficulties for the first few weeks. If you can think of anything prosthetic which might help you, send me a message and I’ll see what I can do. Otherwise, you’re set and ready. All you need is a pair of crutches. Let me get some. Get into your socket in the meantime, You’ll see you now have clamps instead of the velcro. See you in a bit.

Nagy would ordinarily have gone through the process carefully with his patient but Ellis had more initiative than the usual patient. He seemed to revel in his extreme disability. Probably a biid sufferer who took it too far. Not his first case. Shame really, nice looking young guy. He opened a package containing two elbow crutches, anodised aluminium with a chrome-plated finish. They were a bit garish. Other patients had not wanted anything so exhibitionist. They would suit Ellis perfectly.

            – I brought you these. They are non-adjustable so they need to be cut to size. The plus side is that they don’t make a clacking sound when you walk. Do they look OK?

            – They look very smart.

            – How are you managing with that socket?

            – It’s ok. I have to start further up and work my way down into it. The front bit is easy, just line up the buckles.

The clamps were the same as those on a ski boot. A latch was engaged and a lever pulled back, holding the socket halves together securely.

            – Get yourself upright and you can have your peg.

It now had a shaft attached to it leading up to something like a corset.

            Ellis struggled, repositioning himself on the bench so as not to topple off it and succeeded in pushing himself upright. He waggled his stump.

            – Ready! Shall I try it or will you do it?

            – I’ll try it.

Ellis rolled the silicon sleeve onto his stump and put the peg leg onto the bench. He pulled the device onto his stump and seated it against his pelvis. The wide belt obviously went round his carbon fibre waist and clamped together in two spots. He worked his way towards the edge of the bench until his peg touched the floor and asked for the crutches. With a fair amount of effort and repositioning, Ellis pushed himself erect and stood for the first time in the configuration he would endure for the rest of his life. A rigid torso socket with simulated left stump and a short peg leg supported by a pair of short crutches. Ellis looked at himself in the mirror on the far wall and ejaculated for nearly ten seconds.

            – Oh, sorry about that. I think these crutches are too long.

            – Yes, they are. Let me take a couple of measurements – put your hands by your side – OK. Shan’t be long.

A revolving blade screeched through aluminium and Nagy replaced the ferrules.

            – Try these now.

Ellis leaned forwards onto the gleaming crutches and took a tentative step. His short peg leg swung forward and he put his weight on it. Crutches forward, peg, this was easier than he expected. Turning was a little awkward. Crutches, peg, crutches, peg. This is going great, he thought.

            – Ellis, you are doing better than anyone I have seen on their virgin walk, ever. Do you feel that you will be able to leave today and get home under your own steam, or would you like an ambulance to take you?

            – I’m not going home. I’ve been invited to a friend’s place. I don’t know how I would get into a taxi. Maybe the driver could help me.

            – I’m sure he would. Well, if you feel ready, you can sign the forms for discharge and your new prosthetic equipment and you’ll be free to leave any time. You have been a pleasure to work with, Ellis, and I wish you luck in the future. I will let you know about the one hundred percent rigid shell and stubbies you mentioned.

            – Thank you, Dr Nagy for all this. I feel like I can tackle anything. Including getting into a taxi!

            – Please don’t mention it.

Nagy fetched a mop to clear up a slippery patch on the floor.

 

Ellis stood a little shorter than he would have been if he had kneeled on his natural legs. He did not mind being short. These chrome crutches look fantastic, he thought. His peg leg swung along with him as he found his rhythm. Its rubber tip squeaked on the polished floor. He reached his ward and other patients watched him crutch along to his bed. They burst into applause.

            – Thank you, fans! I must leave you now. Hope you all do well.

Ellis threw some dirty laundry into his back pack, made sure he had everything and worked his way outside. He tried getting his phone out of his pocket to call a cab but had trouble. He should lean on something. But what if his crutch fell? He could not bend to pick it up. A taxi pulled up ten metres away and discharged a passenger. Ellis saw his chance and pegged over.

            – Are you free? Oh good. Can you take me to Waterman Seven? I’m sorry but I need a shove to get into the car.

The young driver placed his hands around Ellis’s waist and was shocked to feel a hard surface. He lifted Ellis into the back seat and Ellis arranged his crutches beside him. The peg was horizontal and extended into the space between the two front seats.

            – Excuse my peg leg!

            – Don’t worry about it, mate. Where did you say?

 

The taxi pulled up outside the converted warehouse and Ellis called Guy. One ring which acted as a doorbell. Two minutes later, Jim opened the door and down at the diminutive figure standing before him.

            – Ellis! Good to see you, mate. Come in.

Ellis heaved his peg leg forwards onto the doorstep. He was stuck.

            – Can you pull me in, please mate? I can’t move.

Jim grabbed onto Ellis’s jacket lapels with his hooks and pulled. Ellis straightened his peg and placed his crutches in front of him.

            – Thanks! That was a bit of a surprise. First doorstep.

            – We did very well, I reckon. Come upstairs. There’s someone there who wants to see you.

            – How are you getting on with your hooks?

            – I’m learning. I think I learn something new every day. But also things I can’t do.

            – I have to say, though, that they suit you. You look like a man destined for hooks instead of  hands. They make you yourself.

            – You don’t know how close to the truth you are. Here we are, fifth floor. Three doors along.

Jim held the lift door open so Ellis could crutch out. He walked slowly behind him. He had never seen a more crippled man.

            – Welcome to my home, Ellis. We have something to ask you later, but I will let my guest explain it all to you. Leave your bag and jacket here and let’s go to the lounge.

 

Ellis managed to remove his jacket by leaning against the door and supporting himself on his peg. He was wearing an off-white fisherman’s pullover and cut-off jeans. He had always been a smart dresser. Guy watched his progress from across the oversized room and greeted him.

            – Thank you for coming, Ellis. Can you sit here?

Ellis dropped his crutches and pulled himself onto the sofa. He could sit up straight at last. The socket with its fake stump was doing its job. His leg stump and peg pointed forward.

            – It’s wonderful to see you again, Guy. So, what do you think? Am I disabled? Can we be friends now?

            – Did you do it for me, Ellis? Because I said I wanted a disabled man?

            – Yes, of course. Do you like my peg leg? It’s for you, Guy. I love you. Please believe me.

            – Of course I like your peg leg. I would like one too. Ellis, Jim and I want you to come here to live. You cannot live alone in your flat. You need help. I need help. Jim needs help. And Tom might come here too. Shall we message him? We can talk about it together.

            – You mean, I would move in here? To live here? Jim! What do you say?

            – It is the only way for us now. Four disabled men together for one reason. Guy. Guy is our ideal man, our exemplar, the inspiration to get the bodies we always wanted. You lost more than you planned but you are not unhappy, are you, Ellis?

            – No, I’m not unhappy. I am a bit disabled but it was worth it for Guy

            – I think we like each other, Ellis. I have always admired you since you came to Antex. Clever and handsome. Now you are clever, handsome and crippled. You fit in! So I am asking you if you will consider moving into this loft with us. We can help each other. Guy sometimes likes it when someone fetches something for him. What do you say? Will you join us?

            – I don’t know what to say! Live here? It’s fantastic. Of course I will live here if you want me. When do I move in?

            –As soon as you want. Try not to bring any stuff you don’t really want to keep. We are going to have a big conversion later, new furniture, everything.

            – Jim! Shall we ask Tom to come?

            – Good idea, Guy! I’ll give him a call.

            – Tom? Hi mate, Jim here. Listen, we’re about to have a bit of a celebration at my place and we want you to join us. Yes, now. Waterside Seven. Bring a toothbrush. See you. He says he’ll be here in twenty minutes. Ellis, would you like to go downstairs to let him in?

            – Are you serious? I’ll go if you want me to.

            – No mate, just joking. Walking about is my job. I’ve got legs. It’s why we’re getting together. I wonder if Tom will want to join us cripples? He’s only got a leg off. That’s nothing!

            – We’ll find out soon enough.

 

Jim went downstairs and looked out for a taxi. His hooks worked well on the electronic door displays which he was grateful for. Touch screens were also receptive to a touch of steel. A car approached. A figure exited and it looked like he was twisting a pole into his thigh. Tom was screwing his peg leg into his thigh socket. He strutted towards Jim, waiting with hooks at his side and they greeted each other.

            – Welcome, Tom. It’s good to see you walking so well. Come upstairs. There are people who want to meet you.

            – Really? Sounds very mysterious. What’s going on?

            – All will become clear. How are you doing at home?

            – Not well. Problems with the stump. My boyfriend doesn’t like it.

            – Fuck him. Here we are, floor five, third door.

            – What’s the occasion, Jim?

            – You are. Come in.

 

Guy and Ellis waved from the distant sofa.

            – Welcome, Tom. Come and join us.

Tom gave his coat to Jim who took it in a hook and put it in the closet. Tom walked to the sofa with his most ostentatious strut, playing up the rigidity of his black steel peg. His jeans were cut so that ten centimetres of black carbon socket were visible, with a neatly stitched turn-up. He looked magnificent.

            – Sit down over there, Tom. I want to see your peg leg. You look fantastic.

            – And so do you, Ellis, mate. Nice peg you have too. How do you like it?

            – Well, I shan’t be taking part in any marathons but I’ve been getting about so far. They only let me out this afternoon. I’ll always need crutches so I’ve asked for an even more extreme body shell with two rigid stubbies built-in.

            – What do you mean, body shell?

            – Oh, I’m covered in carbon fibre from tits to the floor. Just a hard shell. My peg is attached to it. This other stump is just a fake. I can move this peg but if I get my new socket, both sides will just have short stubbies which I can balance on. But they’ll both be completely immovable parts of the body socket.

Tom adjusted his erection.

            – So you’ll just be a rigid torso on crutches? Mate, that sounds incredible. I hope I can see that some day.

Jim approached with a glass of whisky in his right hook.

            – Take this, Tom. I might drop it. Welcome everyone to my humble abode. I have something to ask you, Tom. Will you consider moving in to this loft with me, Ellis and our great inspiration, Guy?

            – I don’t need to consider, mate. This is the nicest place I’ve ever been in. I would love to live here with you. Actually, I don’t have any furniture of my own, so all I need to do is collect a suitcase full of gear and I’m ready. My boyfriend will be glad to see the back of me and my stump. He can’t bear to look at it, the silly cunt. I can move in tomorrow.

            – Welcome! I’m so glad, Tom. We’re going to have the time of our lives!

The guys stayed overnight and bedded down where there was space. Ellis and Tom had a sofa each. Guy slept in Jim’s bed. In the morning, Tom crept about and brewed some coffee. There was bread and cold cuts in the fridge. He would wait for the others to rise before having breakfast. The sun was rising over the hills and the first shafts of light hit the brick walls of the loft making them glow. Even almost empty of furniture as it was, the loft was stylish and a very enviable property. He wondered how Jim had come by it.

 

Ellis was awake. He had removed his peg leg for the night but slept in his torso socket. He picked the peg up off the floor, placed it on the sofa and pushed himself upright. He put the liner on his stump and the stump into the peg. He shifted his weight forward until the peg made contact with the floor, grabbed his crutches and made for the wc. He saw Tom and whispered Good morning! He pissed into a carafe which Jim had given him the previous evening. Ellis was a little too short to be able to pee into the toilet bowl. He would have to remove the shell if he needed to take a dump. Bladder emptied, he washed his hands and face and crutched to the kitchen.

            – Hi Ellis! Sleep well?

            – Well enough, thanks. I should have taken this shell off but I couldn’t be bothered.

            – Is it difficult to get into?

            – Not really. It’s not so much difficult as awkward.

            – Well, if you need any help, you have me and Guy here to lend a hand.

            – Yeah, thanks. Do you think it’ll work, the four of us here?

            – I don’t see why not. We all get on, don’t we? There’s plenty of room for four. We’ll have to work out how to divide the space but I reckon small rooms along that back wall where Jim’s bedroom pod is would be enough for a bit of privacy. The rest of the space will be communal – the lounge and a dining area, work stations and so on.

            – When are you going to move in?

            – Saturday. I only need to collect my clothes and a few books. I live with my boyfriend in his flat. But he doesn’t appreciate my new configuration. He’s made that very clear.

            – I think you look great. It really suits you – your long leg and a peg.

            – Thanks, mate. Ellis, I hope you don’t mind me asking but you didn’t intend to lose both legs, did you?

            – No. I was trying for the same thing you have. I should have held on a bit better when the train passed. The blast of air spun me around and my left leg was under the wheels before I knew it. I had bilateral stumps for three days, did you know? Then one turned septic and had to come off completely. There’s no stump, which is why I need this shell. This left side has what looks like a leg stump but there’s nothing in there. It just lets me sit straight.

            – Are you disappointed? Are you happy with the way you are?

            – I was shocked when I woke up to find myself with a bit of arse cheek but no leg but this shell is comfortable enough and I love the peg leg and crutches. I’m not very familiar with my new body but I don’t dislike it.

            – I think it looks really horny, mate.

            – How do you like your stump?

            – It’s perfect for me. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a kid. I was thinking of a way to get an amputation when my accident happened. In the end I didn’t have to do anything! I’ve got some money coming to me from insurance too. We can use it to buy some new furniture.

            – Who’s buying furniture? Good morning you two. I thought I could smell coffee.

            – Morning Jim. Is Guy awake too?

            – Yup, he’s just getting himself together.

            – Are you not putting your arms on?

            – I can manage a mug with my stumps. I’ll put the hooks on after my ablutions. Two sugars, please, Tom.

Jim went to the bathroom.

            – Do you think Jim wanted such short stumps, Tom?

            – I don’t think so. I mean, if you want to lose your hands, you want to keep most of your forearms I would imagine. It looks better, I think.

            – Yeah, I do too. But he looks great with his hooks on.

            – He does. It’s like he was always meant to have hooks instead of hands. They really suit him, somehow.

Guy crutched across to the kitchen wearing only his caliper.

            – Good morning! Is Jim in the toilet?

            – Yes. He won’t be long.

Guy adjusted the volume of his hearing aids.

            – Is there coffee?

            – Yes. I’ll get it. Sugar?

            – No, just black.

Jim came and joined them. He picked up his mug and took it to the table and sat on a stool.

            – I think I’m going to need a hook for this after all. Shan’t be long.

Guy went to the wc. Jim collected his prostheses from his bedroom and brought them back to the kitchen. He arranged them on the tabletop, worked his stumps into the sockets and ducked his head under the harness. He twisted his shoulders to settle the harness and tested the hooks.

            – That feels better.

He picked up his mug with both hooks and tilted back.

            – Good coffee this. Who made it?

            – I did.

            – Good job, Tom. You can do that every morning. Much better than the slop I make.

            – Does anyone want breakfast? I found some cold meat in the fridge.

            – There should be some cheese in there too, if anyone wants some. Bring it all over here, Tom. We can help ourselves.

Tom put bread and cold cuts onto plates and found four more plates in a cupboard. His peg squeaked on the floor.

            – Where’s the cutlery?

            – Second drawer.

He brought four knives and a tub of margarine.

            – Ellis, are you ok standing there? Do you want to sit up here with us?

            – No, I’m ok.

            – Oh, come on. You can’t eat like that! Let me help.

Jim threaded his hooks under Ellis’s armpits and lifted him onto a stool. The flat base of his torso socket was stable and secure. His peg leg stuck out under the table.

            – You seem to have shed some weight, Ellis. You must tell us your secret.

Jim took a slice of bread and tried to get a knife into his hook. The others watched. He picked the knife up and tried pushing it into a suitable angle. He wanted to scrape some marg onto the bread. The knife dropped from his hook and he tried again. The others glanced at each other. Who would offer help first? How long should they let Jimmy try? After an interminable minute, the knife was positioned properly and Jim swiped it across the margarine. A curl of it stuck to the knife and Jim brought it to his plate. How was he going to spread it? Ellis caved first.

            – Let me do that bit, Jim.

            – Yeah, alright. Thanks. Can you do another slice as well, please?

Jim was well able to nip slices of meat onto his bread, flipped the other slice on top and called it a sandwich. His hook crushed the bread flat but he fed himself.

            – We should work out a timetable and do a bit of planning. All of you are welcome to stay here from now on. This loft is now your home, as from this minute! We need to get some beds and mattresses first. Guy – you have a bed, right?

            – Yes. I can bring a bed, a table, stools and two chairs. It is too late to send them to recycling from my flat so I must bring them here first.

            – It’s OK, no problem. Tom and Ellis, you only need to collect your clothes and electronics, don’t you?

            – Yup.

            – Yes, I rent a furnished flat so I’m set and ready with one suitcase full of clothes. Oh, shit! How can I ever carry a suitcase?

            – Don’t worry about that, mate. I’ll come with you.

            – Thanks Tom.

A suitcase would not be the easiest thing for Tom to carry with a peg leg but needs must. None of the others could do it.

            – So, you two need to terminate your rent agreements immediately. You might have to pay a bit extra but don’t worry about that. I am going to order three beds and mattresses from FlatPack Central and they will deliver before the weekend. Can anyone think of anything else we need immediately for four of us?

            – Closet space.

            – Good point. We’ll have one built but for the time being I could order a couple of clothes rails on castors and you can hang your stuff on them. It’s only very temporary. It’ll look a bit council estate for a couple of weeks but we can live with that. I’m going to have three more bedroom pods built so everyone can have their own little spaces, but otherwise I want you all to feel completely free to treat the whole place like it was your home. Because that’s exactly what it is. Oh, and that also means if you want to walk around naked, it’s fine with me.

            – And me!

            – And me!

            – Sorry guys, I can’t be naked. I need my shell.

            – And if you were wondering who is going to be paying for all this – you are! Well, for the beds at least. The improvements I make to the property will be off my back.

            – Do you own this loft, Jim?

            – Yes. It’s a long story but my family owned the original warehouse when it was built in eighteen-sixty. We don’t own it any longer. Only the six apartments on this floor. We collect rent from the tenants and that’s what brings in most of my parents’ income. So I don’t pay rent, only the standing charge. We could share that, if you want to pay something. We need to have a kitty for food though.

            – Yes, that’s the best way. We each pay like three hundred a month and when there’s enough left in there, we get a free month!

            – Three hundred? Does that include alcohol?

            – Oh, I forgot that. Three hundred and ten, then.

            – Haha!  OK, we’ll do that. Three hundred sounds about right. So, here’s what we’ll do today. You three go and pick up your stuff and bring it here. Guy, did you already order a removal van?

            – Yes. Two men are coming on Saturday. We will bring all my stuff here first and then throw it away when we get new things.

            – Well, like I said, you don’t have to stay in your old places. Come right back here and let’s get to know each other. Is there any vodka left?

 

Guy crutched back to Jim’s bedroom to put his wooden leg on. He and Ellis left and shared a taxi to their homes. The taxi driver’s eyes almost left his skull when he saw the two good-looking guys working their way towards his car on crutches and peg legs and god knew what. He would be fantasizing about them for decades to come. Back home, they continued packing and disposing of junk not worth saving. Ellis had some smart clothes which would never suit his new height so he put them in a bag for collection. A couple of nice suits he’d never wear again. All of his shoes and cowboy boots. And his mountaineering boots. No, he would keep them for old time’s sake. He would have them mounted onto a torso socket and go hiking in Switzerland. Ha! Well, why not?

 

Jim and Tom stayed home in the loft. Tom cleared away the food and Jim put dirty plates into the washer.

            – Jim, I want to thank you for being so generous in letting us share your home. I really can’t express how much I admire this space or how envious I would be of the people who lived here. And suddenly – it’s me! And my best friends. It’s more than I could ever have expected for myself. And yet it makes so much sense. We all need some help from each other, we all love being new amputees, and we all love Guy. He’s the reason we are where we are today. I wonder if he knew what he was doing?

            – I don’t think so. Guy is difficult to read because he is so very deaf. We can’t know how much he hears but he is not a stupid man. On the contrary. The way he speaks is very misleading. He sounds sometimes like a foreigner who knows a hundred words of English. I wouldn’t say he was devious, would you? He told us, quite honestly, that he would love only a disabled man.

            – Is that what he said to you?

            – Well, yes. Didn’t he tell you the same thing?

            – No, he said he could only love a disabled man. There’s a difference, isn’t there? He didn’t mean if you were disabled, he would love you. He meant if you were a disabled man, he would be able to love you. I just took it as an excuse to get a leg off and if Guy fancied me after, I’d be quids in. I didn’t think, oh, now I’m an amputee so he will love me.

            – What the hell! Do you mean to say these hooks are no guarantee of his affection?

            – No, not as I see it.

            – Well, fuck me.

            – But he seems to like you, doesn’t he? Whose bed did he just sleep in?

 

Guy was just about ready for the move. He had quite a collection of books which he wanted to keep. Even though all information was available online, some books were valuable in their own right. He threw T-shirts, pullovers, stump socks and liners and a pair of zipped jeans into his back pack and made room for his favourite book, a 1970 edition of the works of Vasarely. It was heavy and sumptuous and its reproductions looked spectacular on the glossy paper. He called for a taxi and returned to Waterside Seven.

 

            – Welcome back, Guy!

He raised a hand and shrugged his heavy backpack off. He shifted it against the wall with the tip of a crutch and left his crutches by the door. He walked over to the sofas where Jim and Tom sat opposite each other. His wooden leg took his weight as his good leg in the caliper oriented itself on the floor and rotated outwards. It was fascinating to watch Guy walking. He almost always used his crutches and this unexpected demonstration of his severe disability was very enjoyable to watch. They had never seen their idol without his crutches before. Jim had never seen Guy without his trousers. Tom had had Guy’s leg stump up his arse.

 

            – From now on I am going to wear shorts. Is that OK?

            – Of course it is. Why do you want to wear shorts, Guy?

            – Because you are all showing you amputations to me. Jim has hooks. You have your peg leg. Ellis has his peg leg. And I have my trousers. So from now, I wear only shorts. You can see my caliper and wooden leg. Is that OK?

            – Of course it is, Guy. You can do what you want.

            – Good. Next I want some more amputations like you have.

            – What the fuck!

            – I want both my legs off like Ellis’s left leg. I want to be legless. I am so tired with my useless legs. No stumps. Just a socket like Ellis. I want to have crutches and a body stump.

            – I love you the way you are, Guy. I don’t want you to change. Your wooden leg is wonderful. Please don’t lose it.

            – I can lose my right leg first. Walk then on my wooden leg. Yes, that sounds very good. Horny! Crutches, wooden leg, no stump. How to do it?

            – Guy, we can’t tell you how to do it. Neither of us have the stumps we wanted, Mine are too short and Ellis lost a whole extra leg.

            – Let us make our own surgery here. We can call medical students to do amputations. They can start on my legs. Who do you know from the medical college?

            – No-one.

            – No, I don’t know anyone.

            – Then we must go to them and flirt with them. We must show them our stumps and tell them we want more stumps. Let’s do it!

 

Saturday was busy as Guy’s furniture and bin bags of clothing were delivered at eleven by two heavily tattooed, twenty-something lads who brought the few items into the loft, looking around in wonder. Guy gave them a tenner each and thanked them. Ellis arrived in a taxi and called Jim to come and help carry his suitcase and two bin bags of all his worldly possessions. Jim grabbed the bags and dumped them on the pavement. Ellis paid the driver and extricated himself from the taxi. The driver let his next call wait as he watched the extraordinary efforts required of the two amputees to do something as simple as carry a suitcase, especially the short bugger with a peg leg. He repositioned his erection and accelerated away.

 

Tom already had Jim’s spare key and let himself into the loft just before four. He dumped his bags by the window and strutted across to a pile of flat pack furniture which had been delivered.

            – This looks like our beds. Where are the mattresses?

            – Not arrived yet. Should be here by six. We could start to put those together, Easy enough.

            – Easy for you to say, the man with hooks. You can rip the packages open!

            – Don’t be cruel, Tom. I’m sure you’ll have them together in no time.

As with all flat pack furniture, there was only one correct way of assembling them and several short cuts later, their work had to be reversed before three sturdy bedframes were ready. The mattresses arrived. Jim was able to drag the air-spring mattresses himself and the new row of beds along the back wall reminded everyone of hospital beds. Tom managed to get sheets and his duvet on his bed first. He kicked the packaging into the middle of the room and said simply Tomorrow.

 

            – What are we going to do about meals? I have an idea but I want to hear your ideas first. There are four of us and it’s a lot of food to make two or three times a day.

            – I started out as a chef’s apprentice right after school. It’s why I know how to brew coffee. If I was here all the time, I could handle cooking for four but as long as I’m working at Antex, it’s a bit much.

            – I agree. All the same, it would be good to have a decent meal waiting when we get home. How about if we arranged for a meal delivery on weekday evenings? We could make our own food at the weekends. It’s fun when you have time, yes?

 

Jim was rubbing his hooks together in anticipation.

            – Sounds fine. Who delivers?

            – Practically everyone around here. And pretty quickly, especially places like the Iranian restaurant and the Chinese. Their stuff is always ready. Bagatelli delivers too but they’re on the other side of town. Still, we could get a meal from them once a week without breaking the budget.

            – I think that sounds like a good idea. I don’t mind having kebab twice a week, or Chinese. Plenty of variety. Hands and hooks up, who agrees?

Three hands and a hook rose.

            – So that’s decided. Shall we start tonight? I want pizza. You can order what you like!

They had four pizzas and three bottles of wine for supper.

 

Jim had the video control and released the screen. It scrolled down from the ceiling and jerked itself flat. RGB pinpricks of light measured its distance from the projector and calibrated the lenses. An image of the room from the projector’s viewpoint filled the screen.

            – Ready! What shall we watch?

            – Tune in to YouTube and let’s watch some amputees.

            – Seconded! There’s a guy from America you might like to see, Jim. Uses hooks like they were his real hands. He had those pretend amputee arms for years and froze his hands off when he knew he could handle it.

            – I was gonna do that with my leg but I didn’t know where to get dry ice. And there was no-one there to help.

The huge screen filled with a balding forty-something wielding two artificial arms. Tom rearranged his underwear and Jim watched closely.

            – I don’t understand how he can be so natural. He just uses them like they were his own hands. How does he do it?

            – Jim, he’s had those hooks for about a decade and before that he wore pretend sockets with hooks. It’s not surprising he knows what he’s doing.

 

They watched videos of amputees transferring into wheelchairs and amputees working out. They ended up watching an old video of a quadruple amputee who used peg arms to propel his legless body towards a swimming pool.

            – That’s how I want to be.

            – Guy! Really?

            – No legs, just a socket like Ellis. No arms, just stumps for crutches.

            – Well, if I haven’t heard it all!

            – I wouldn’t mind another amputation either. Get rid of this lousy leg stump. It’s no use to me.

            – Ellis! There’d be nothing left of you.

            – I’d be no worse off than now. Still in a socket, just with two fake stumps.

            – Yeah, I see what you mean.

            – That would be really horny. I’d like to see that. You’d be striding around the place on crutches and your shell. That would be hot!

            – If we’re going down that route, I want my elbows off so I can have artificial elbows.

            – Jim, you can’t be serious! Why do you want to do that?

            – I wanted to be disabled for years and years. I wanted hooks. Now that I have them, I still don’t feel disabled. I can do almost everything I want to do. OK, I can’t lift a mug to my mouth but I can do it with hooks. I want to feel disabled. If I had two short stumps below my shoulders, I could use the kind of prostheses I want. Long stiff things with hooks.

            – I wouldn’t mind another thigh stump. To be legless and walking on two prosthetic legs. Nice glossy black sockets with skinny steel pylons underneath.

            – We should organise some kind of surgery in here and get our medical student friends to practise amputations.

            – In here? Are you mad?

            – Well, where do you expect? In a hospital? You can’t just rock up and say I want to be a DAE.

            – No, I suppose not. Where are you going to get all the RTT from?

            – Medical students have ways of sneaking stuff out, Jim. That’s why they never need to buy booze. They just drink the ninety-six percent stuff the hospitals are allocated for sterilisation.

            – Jesus. So they’d come here with a shitload of anaesthetics and cut our limbs off?

            – Yup. If we paid them five thousand each time, they’d be more than happy to do it. And you know how to wrap a stump, don’t you? So do all of us. We don’t need any outside nurses to tell us we can’t do this and we can’t have that.

            – Just think. We could have the bodies we want.

            – Exactly. I wouldn’t mind being a DAK for a few years. Maybe be a DBE too like you, Jim. I love the idea of having hooks. They’d suit the way I feel I want to be. I want to feel myself as a body fully mobile, fully capable, but using artificial limbs. Not bionic shit but old fashioned stump operated prosthetics. Wooden legs like Guy has and carbon fibre arm sockets with hooks.

            – Tom, you would make a fantastic quad. You would be incredibly handsome with long stumps and hooks. You’re already incredibly handsome with just a peg leg. Imagine using two long stubbies and a pair of hooks!

            – I have to admit it sounds enticing. I shall have to think about it! And wank!

            – So where is this medical hospital where we’re going?

            – Not to the hospital, you twerp! To the town centre where the students hang out. One look at any of us fetching a drink in a pub will spark their interest. They won’t be able to leave us alone! You can guess where I’m talking about, can’t you? I mean, the biggest rehabilitation centre for army amps is right next door. We’ll rent a ‘tric and drive there.

            – That’s one way to start, I suppose. Shall we go next Friday? Do a bit of baiting?

            – We have nothing to lose but our limbs.

 

The meals deliveries worked out. They studied the menu and worked out a weekly rota. Every day around eleven a delivery boy called and Tom or Jim would go downstairs to collect four decent portions of pie and mash or lasagne, something which could be easily reheated. Supper was whatever was in the fridge whenever someone wanted something. There was no set time.

 

During the week, they learned about each others amputations. They held a show-and-tell evening when they all displayed their stumps and explained their prosthetics. They were fascinated by Guy’s wooden leg and the story behind it. Jim said he hoped that even if Guy were to lose his right leg, he would keep his left stump in order to continue wearing the leg. Ellis removed his torso socket so the others could inspect his severe disarticulation. They understood better why the socket was necessary for him. Guy was determined to achieve the same or a greater level of amputation and use a similar torso socket. His would have detachable pylons on the base so he could have peg legs or just scoot around on the base of the socket. Tom fell in love with the idea of using hooks and discovered a foreign company which made prosthetic arms for people who were not amputees. The arm sockets were a little longer than usual to accommodate a balled fist but otherwise worked in the same fashion as other body-powered arm prostheses. The arms were expensive. A pair would cost about four thousand. Jim offered to loan him the money on condition that Tom wore the prostheses permanently whenever he was at home. He thought about it for several seconds and agreed. His artificial arms were soon on order and would be ready within the month.

 

Jim rented a ‘tric for Friday evening. Guy had no driving licence so the other three drew straws to determine who would stay sober in order to drive back. The car pulled up at five minutes before five on Friday evening and the guys piled in after removing peg legs where necessary. Jim had not mentioned to the car lease company that an amputee would be driving the vehicle but did not anticipate any problems. It was the first time he had driven since his amputations. The steering column was adjustable and Jim managed to angle it so he could steer with his right prosthesis. He drove sedately, very aware that the lives of three of his dearest mates were in his hands, in a manner of speaking. He parked in a disabled spot two hundred metres from a famous pub known to be a favourite venue for students. Maybe there would be a few useful prospective surgeons present.

 

Jim pulled the door open and held it for the others. Tom strode in on his peg, Guy heaved himself up on crutches and Jim lifted Ellis up, crutches and all, and settled him on his peg before pointing to a distant corner with a hook. It would be an understatement to say that their arrival attracted attention. Tom lifted Ellis onto a chair, Guy sat next to him. Tom needed space for his long peg leg and Jim sat with his back to the room. He asked what everyone wanted to drink. Jim had drawn the short straw and would have to stick to non-alcoholic drinks and wanted a non-alco beer. The others wanted lagers. He worked his way slowly through the throng of youngsters crowding the bar.

            – Yessir, what can I get you?

            – I’d like three pints of lager and one non-alcoholic beer, please.

            – Right away.

The bar tender pulled three pints and looked around for a non-alcoholic beer.

            – Hey listen, mate. Can someone bring these drinks over to our table? We’re all disabled and I can’t manage them all myself.

A heavily bearded young man standing beside him spoke up.

            – Do you need some help carrying your drinks?

            – Yes. It’s a bit awkward for me at the moment.

He lifted his hooks so the bearded man could see them.

            – Oh! That’s impressive! I can bring them over if you like. Where are you sitting?

            – In the back corner. There are four of us.

            – OK, I’ve got you covered.

The bar tender put a bottle of a German non-alcoholic beer and a glass on the counter.

            – Have you got a tray for these drinks, please? Thanks. Lead the way, my man.

Jim threaded his way back to the corner, followed closely by his assistant. He caught sight of Tom’s peg and his eyes grew wide.

            – Good evening, gentlemen. I am not your waiter for this evening. I just thought I’d help your companion.

            – That’s good of you to help. Thanks. The rest of us can carry stuff but we’re a bit unsteady on our feet.

Ellis snorted.

            – Oh? Why’s that?

            – We’re all amputees.

            – Really? It’s funny you should say that. We were discussing amputation in this afternoon’s lecture. I study at the college. I wonder if – no, I’m imposing.

            – No, what were you going to say?

            – Well, just that if you are amputees, it would be really interesting for me and my friends to sit with you for a while to learn about your situation. We heard the technical side and the physical issues this afternoon but no-one knows an amputee to learn the other side of the issue. I was going to ask if my friends and I could ask you some questions. It looks like there’s room here if these people are leaving.

            – Go ahead, mate. We’re off.

            – Thanks!

            – What do you say? Shall we show the lads what amputation is?

            – Do it!

            – Well, that’s unanimous. Call your friends over. We’d be pleased to discuss amputation with you.

            – That’s excellent. Just a moment and I’ll fetch them.

Three more young students approached and shook their hands.

            – This is Garret, this is Jame, and Judson. My name is Brenton Harter. We all study applied orthopaedia and have quite a few questions if you can bear with us.

            – We’re pleased to meet you and talk about our limblessness. Take a seat. Pull the chairs over so we can talk. I should say that my friend Guy here is extremely deaf so if you want to ask him something, make sure first that you have his attention and he can read your lips. As you can see, I am wearing two prosthetic arms with body-operated hooks. Guy here has a kafo leg brace on his right leg and a very old wooden leg on his left thigh stump. Ellis has a short right thigh stump and a disarticulation of the left leg, so there is no stump whatsoever and Tom is probably kicking you with his peg leg. He has an above knee amputation and a rigid peg.

            – It’s very unusual to see a peg leg these days, especially being used by someone so young. May I ask why you prefer a peg leg over a more ordinary prosthesis?

            – Like I told my prosthetist, a peg is lighter, more secure and easier to use particularly for an above knee amputee like myself. I believe the real reason why it is so rare is because of price. There is a very small profit margin in a peg leg. It’s more profitable for prosthetists to market the latest microprocessor knee and ankle whether the patient needs them or not. I think I have proved that a rigid peg works equally as well and is far more trustworthy for a newbie.

            – How long have you been an amputee?

            – About a month.

            – Really?

            – I have a peg leg too. I cannot wear a full length prosthesis because my stump is too short. I was offered a stubby and I asked if it could be remodelled in the shape of a peg leg. I am also wearing a torso socket, a body shell. Knock on my chest!

Brenton rapped gently.

            – Good lord! Is your entire body encased in that? May I ask why?

            – My disart is higher than my AK so I wear a torso socket with a prosthetic stump on the left to keep me even.

            – That’s fascinating. Is it comfortable?

            – Yes, it’s fine. I may soon be getting another socket with two built-in stubbies. My AK stump will fit inside the stubby but there will not be any motion possible. I’ll be rigid from my chest down.

            – Is that something you feel you can deal with?

            – It’s not so very different from what I deal with now. At least I’ll be able to wear a pair of shorts properly.

Lively intelligent conversation between the students and the amputees continued until Jim mentioned his wish to have new higher amputations, to become a DAE. The students were dumbfounded. They had never imagined finding a potential candidate so easily. Brenton murmured with his friends and they nodded their heads.

            – Jim, if you are certain that you wish to become DAE, I may have a solution for you. Judson’s father has his own surgery. We can offer voluntary amputations to BIID sufferers and other wannabes. I am sure you know the kind of people I am talking about, don’t you? Your arms will be amputated and incinerated safely without any official records. You will be moved out of the facility as soon as possible and rely on morphine injections for pain relief, if necessary.

            – What sort of price are we talking about?

            – Three thousand per amputation. In your case, let us say five thousand for the two.

            – How about new prosthetics?

            – There are several private prosthetic suppliers in the country who will be only too happy to have you as a customer. They will manufacture a pair of AE prostheses for you. I am sure you know it is not a complicated process. Perhaps your existing prosthetist will be willing to help in that regard.

            – I can call him to ask. When would the amputations take place?

            – We need a few days advance warning to acquire the necessary supplies but the first opportunity would be at the last weekend of this month. We will use nerve neutralisation techniques to eliminate the possibility of phantom pain and regenerative electrolysis to speed healing while you are at the facility.

            – What do you think, guys? Shall I give it a try? Get myself a pair of biceps stumps instead of these short forearm ones?

            – You must do what you feel is right for you, mate. I’ll be watching how you get on. I may decide to have my other leg off if your amputations turn out well. I’d be a peg legged man with a single peg.

They exchanged phone numbers and promised to meet again in the near future. They had all spent a thoroughly enjoyable evening talking about something taboo and illegal which at least Jim and Tom seemed likely to avail themselves of. They wished each other good night and the four young amputees made their way back to the ‘tric. Jim drove home and let the hire company know that the car was ready for collection. Back in the loft, Jim poured himself a double whisky, his first proper drink of the evening.

            – Anyone else want a drink? Tom?

            – Yeah, I will, please.

Jim brought him a straight glass of whisky. He was getting quite adept at using his hooks. What would it be like to operate the elbows mechanically too? He determined that he would go through with the revisions.

            – I’m going to do it, Tom. I’ve decided it’s what I want. Before I go back to work, I’ll have had two new amputations. It might mean I have to go a couple of weeks without arms but you three wouldn’t mind helping out, would you?

            – No, of course not. It’s what we’re all here for, to help each other. I would expect the same if I became a DAK. Cheers!

 

Guy had continued working at Antex while his admirers convalesced from their amputations. Jim and Tom would be joining him in a few days. It would be good to get back into the swing of things. A new game had been approved for development, a shoot-’em-up, and they could all start from the same baseline. Ellis would spend another two weeks at home before rejoining the team.

 

A courier called up to announce that he had a package for a Tom Pearson. Ellis replied that Pearson was his flatmate but at work and he would sign for it.

            – Please wait a few minutes. I am disabled but I will be there soon.

He checked he had his keycard, crutched down the hall to the lift and descended to the lobby. He opened the door and the courier turned around. His mouth dropped open.

            – Wow! Are you for real? Can you take this package or would you like me to bring it to your flat?

            – That would be very good of you, thanks.

The courier stepped in and followed Ellis, watching how the short peg moved between the cut-down crutches.

            – Man, you are the horniest guy I have seen this month. I love your peg leg. It’s quite a turn-on.

            – That’s what my boyfriend tells me.

            – Is he home now?

            – No, I’m alone right now.

            – Do you want a bit of action, man?

            – Are you coming on to me?

            – You bet!

They arrived at the loft and went in. The courier put Tom’s package on the floor near the door.

            – I want you to fuck me. I want you to kick me with that peg leg.

            – Come over here. Take your gear off.

He stripped on the way over and dumped his top on the floor. He sat on Ellis’s bed and removed his boots and jeans.

            – Strip me!

Ellis dropped his crutches on the floor and lifted his arms up. The courier pulled off Ellis’s t-shirt to reveal the shiny black torso socket and rubbed his growing erection.

            – Take my shorts and peg leg off. Lie on my bed on your belly.

            – How does the peg come off?

            – Undo those clips and it will loosen.

            – Fantastic stump!

He sank his face into the thigh stump and licked it. Ellis found it extremely erotic. His own erection poked forward between his stumps.

            – Get on your belly!

Ellis climbed on the courier’s back and slid his shell down until his erection found the courier’s anus.

            – Now you have to pump your arse against my dick. I can’t fuck like normal men do.

The courier gyrated his buttocks and found a good rhythm. His anus squeezed Ellis’s dick. Ellis pushed against the courier’s shoulders and inserted his penis deeper into the courier’s colon. Ninety seconds later, both men shouted as they simultaneously ejaculated. Ellis waited until his penis became flaccid and pushed himself off the courier’s back.

            – That was good.

            – I came on your bed. Sorry about that.

            – Don’t be.

            – Man, that was fantastic. Your body feels incredible. That was the first time I’ve ever had to do all the action myself. That was really something. Maybe try it again sometime? Do you like to be fucked?

            – Sure. Next time you can take my socket off and fuck me. Give me your phone number and we can message when you’re in the neighbourhood. What’s your name?

            – Chris.

            – I’m Ellis.

            – I better be going now, Ellis.

            – See you again, man.

Chris put his clothes back on and jumped into his boots. He bent down and kissed Ellis and handed him the short peg leg.

            – Thank you. I’ll call you.

Chris let himself out and resumed normal life. What a stud – rigid body, no legs, dick like a horse! Ellis’s words echoed in his imagination: I can’t fuck like normal men do.

Ellis inspected his bedcover and decided a quick wipe with a rag would do.

 

The trio of workers arrived home at five thirty.

            – Hi Ellis! We’re back.

Ellis crutched towards them with a big smile.

            – Did you have a good day? Tom, you’ve got a package.

            – What have you been up to?

            – Oh, nothing much. The courier brought that and I had a snooze in the afternoon. And the meals arrived. Pork chops and fried potatoes and peas.

            – Ah, great!  These are my new arms!

            – Remember what I said, Tom. You now have to wear them here all the time. Put them on now and they can come off just before bedtime. I’ll give you some advice and Ellis can help you adjust the harness. We can exchange hooks now. You can try out my farmer’s hook.

            – Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. Let me get my jacket off and we’ll have the grand unboxing in a minute in the lounge.

 

They went over to the sofas and crowded round to watch Tom’s expression as he opened his package. Fighting through gyroid paper, his fingers touched a hard object. He ripped the tough padding away and looked at a neatly packed pair of artificial arms with two Hosmer Five hooks paired with a black canvas harness. He found the centre ring and lifted the arms out of the box.

            – Aren’t they beautiful? How do I get into these, Jim?

            – First of all you’ll need stump socks on your arms. Wait a minute and I’ll bring you some.

He disappeared into his bedroom and came back with two unopened packs of the soft tubular socks.

            – This harness is a different design from mine. I put my sockets on first and then the harness. This one, you put the harness on first and then reach back to don the sockets. You’ll need to practise a bit before you can do it accurately. Go on then, which one is left and which one right?

            – Hmm, I’m not sure.

            – Put the biceps cuffs facing up on the table. Then check the hooks curve toward the centre. The thumb, this bit, should point up. If it does, you’ve got the arms the proper way round. Next lift the harness up by the shoulder loops and put your arms through so the whole set-up is hanging down your back.

Tom wriggled into his harness and Jim checked to see if it was tight enough. It was.

            – Now you need to put your hand through the biceps cuff and into the socket. Try to make sure you’ve not mixed the sockets up. Keep going, you’re alright. Now the other arm. Yup, that’s it. Ellis, can you thread this velcro strap through this buckle and back on itself? And the same on the other side. OK, Tom you’re all set and ready for a trial run. Push your arms forward.

The hooks opened.

            – Now push your left arm forward. Now your right. And that is how you operate the hooks. Well done, Tom! Welcome to the world of bilateral hookdom!

Tom was pleased as Punch with the beautiful black sockets and the hooks. He opened and closed his hooks, enjoying the sound they made.

            – I’m going to let you discover your hooks by yourself. You’ll learn more than if I just tell you. But ask if there’s something you want to know.

Tom started by trying to pick up some of the gyroid paper from the floor. He strode forward on his peg, bent down and stretched out his arm to grasp the paper. His hooks opened as they were designed to. He could not close them until he stopped stretching. The sockets rose and the hooks closed, empty. He tried again, leaning down closer and managed to grab a wad of paper.

            – This is not as easy as it looks.

            – Especially not while wearing a peg leg. Leave it, Tom. I’ll clear it in a minute. Go and try picking stuff up in the kitchen.

 

            – Is it possible to take one of those arms off the harness?

            – Yes, I assume so. I’ll have a look. There should be a strap and buckle system. Why do you ask?

            – Well, I want to have a go too, but only one arm.

            – Oh, I see. Well, let Tom practise for an hour or two. Then we’ll check it out.

            – Are you really going to make him wear them all the time?

            – Why wouldn’t I? I do!

            – It’s going to be interesting to watch him learning.

            – Yes, it will.

 

Tom was in the kitchen picking up bags of sugar and tins of beans. He tried lifting a fork. It was difficult to angle it properly. And the sockets were too long to let him bring the fork to his mouth. The extra length of the sockets to accommodate his fists was enough to prevent bringing the hooks close to his mouth. He could reach his forehead but that was not much use. He reached for a mug and let the hook close on the handle. He lifted it and the mug tipped forwards at a forty-five degree angle. Good thing it was empty!  He extricated the hook and tried opening it to its full width. Maybe he could grasp the whole mug. He could, but again, the socket was too long to allow him to drink from the mug. He returned to the lounge.

            – I’m not able to get stuff to my mouth. The sockets are too long. Let’s compare, Jim.

Jim lifted an arm and Tom compared their lengths. His were easily fifteen centimetres longer. Jim’s sockets were shorter than natural forearms anyway.

            – While you’re here, Tom, turn around and let me see the harness. Yeah, it looks like it would be simple to take one arm off. Tom, Ellis wants a go of your hooks, but just one arm. Is it alright to take one arm off you and let Ellis try?

            – Sure. Go ahead.

            – Ellis, this is a job for you, mate. It would take me all night. You see this strap, how it’s wound into that buckle? You can loosen it and the arm will come free.

Ellis worked the strap loose and the right socket was inoperative.

            – Undo the strap around the biceps cuff and Tom, you should be able to shake the socket off your arm.

He could.

            – Now we need another harness for Ellis. Does anyone have a leather harness or something with a ring at the back?

            – Well, I’ve got one in my bags somewhere. I should have unpacked by now. I’ll take a look.

Ellis went to his bed and lay down on it. He pulled a travel bag out from under the bed and looked through the contents.

            – Found it!

He pegged back to the sofa and buckled the harness over his t-shirt.

            – Very macho, that, Ellis. It’s a wonder it fits over your shell.

            – OK, what do we do next?

            – Now we need to attach it to the ring at the back. Guy! Your turn, mate!

Guy came across and watched Jim’s fingers explain how the strap should be tied. It was soon done. Ellis fed his right arm into the socket and suddenly there were three men in the room wearing hooks. Tom watched his friend’s reaction to suddenly losing his right hand.

            – Stretch, Ellis!

Jim gave Ellis a quick guide as he had done with Tom. His most imperative problem was using the hook on his right crutch. With only a single peg leg, Ellis would never be able to walk with just the one crutch. He tried picking up a magazine off the table and succeeded first try. He grabbed hold of the shaft of his peg leg. He  reached down and tried picking up one of his crutches off the floor but ran into the same problem Tom had discovered. The hook opened but would not close. Tom picked them up with his right hand and offered them to Ellis. He very carefully manoeuvred his hook through the crutch’s loop and opened the hook to grasp the crossbar. He took his other crutch and tried pushing himself erect. The right hook felt alien and forced his arm to an unusual angle. He was not so much leaning on his crutch as merely holding it. It gave him no support.

            – Well, that’s not going to work. It would be too dangerous for me. I’m taking it off. Tom, shall we let Guy try it?

            – Sure. Guy? Do you want to try the hook?

            – Yes, please.

Ellis loosened the cuff and took off the harness. He handed it to Guy who sorted out the tangle of straps and buckles. He shrugged it onto his shoulders, adjusted the chest strap and put his right arm into the socket. It was a perfect fit for him. Tom tightened the biceps cuff and Guy was ready.  He struggled to a standing position and waddled off towards the kitchen. He tried handling the same objects as Tom had, and found that if he held the socket still, he could open the hook by tensing his left shoulder. He took a straight glass from the cupboard with his hook, inverted it with the left and turned the tap on with the hook. He filled the glass with water and tried drinking from it – but the socket was too long and it was impossible to get the glass to his mouth. He undid the harness, removed the hook and gave it back to Tom.

            – Here you are, Tom. It’s not for me. Shall I put it on your harness?

            – Yes please, Guy. Thank you.

Guy transferred the socket from one harness to the original and Tom donned his right prosthetic arm again. He spent the rest of the evening wearing it. They had some supper an hour later and Ellis fed Tom his food and lifted a cup to his lips. Ellis found it strangely erotic and Tom enjoyed feeling helpless. Jim phoned Brenton Harter.

            – Hello, Brenton? This is Jimmy Dickinson – we met in the pub a couple of weeks back, remember? Yeah, the guy with the hooks. Listen, I have become more convinced that I want two above elbow amputations. I also need two new prosthetic arms to go with them. Are you or your team still available for the last weekend this month? Ah, good. I can deposit two thousand five hundred in your PhonePay account tonight. What should I bring with me? And what’s the address? Oh, I see. Yes, I can wait there to be picked up. Eleven o’clock. That’s fine. See you Saturday week then. Bye, Brenton.

Jim loaded his banking app and transferred the money.

 

The four were eating breakfast when Ellis received a message from Julian Nagy, his prosthetist. new socket with two stubbies ready for fitting. please call.

            – What? He’s made me the other socket I wanted! I’m going to have stubbies! Oh, man!

It was a very long day for Ellis. The others left for work and Ellis was left alone with hours to kill and nothing on his mind except a completely rigid body from the chest down with no moving parts. He returned the call at nine and spoke with Nagy. Funding for a second socket had been approved due to Ellis’s severe degree of disability and Nagy had gone ahead with the design they had discussed previously. He invited Ellis to his workshop for a test fitting at three.

 

Ellis enjoyed being legless. The single short peg leg was an interesting innovation for a man without any other means of standing erect. But ideally, he wanted his right stump amputated, disarticulated like his other leg had been, leaving him with a rounded torso stump. With a bit of padding he would still be able to use the new socket. And maybe the old one could have its base remodelled. It would have no legs. Ellis would heave himself around in it on his hands. He crutched across to the window and looked out at the river. He returned to the kitchen and made coffee. He scrolled through news pages on his phone. Still only nine thirty!

 

He could stand it no longer. At one thirty he left home and crutched to the nearest tram stop. He would need to change in the town centre but he should arrive at the hospital with plenty of time to spare. In fact, he would be ridiculously early. Riding the tram was precarious because he was unable to sit in any of the seats, even those reserved for invalids, and balancing on one peg leg in a moving tramcar demanded concentration. If he had been with one of the others, they would have lifted him into a seat. His peg fit into the space behind the seat in front. The new socket would not allow him to sit in any chair, ever. He would always have to stand, everywhere, when using it. It was exciting.  The tram turned the sharp corner before the hospital stop and nearly threw Ellis off balance. He got off and pegged along to the hospital’s main entrance.

            – Hello. I’m very early but I have an appointment at three with Dr Nagy.

            – I see. There’s almost an hour to wait. I can let him know you have arrived but I can’t promise he’ll see you before three.

She sent a message over the intranet. A message pinged back almost immediately. tell him to wait ten minutes. i will collect him.

            – He’ll meet you in a few minutes. Please take a seat.

            – Thank you.

He looked at the available chairs and saw one he could pull himself into. His peg protruded and he held his crutches in one hand, checked his phone with the other.

 

Nagy came to greet him a few minutes later.

            – Ellis! It’s good to see you. Come upstairs and let’s take a look at your new equipment.

            – I was so surprised that you made it so soon. I was expecting it to be something that I might have in a year or two.

            – I have another surprise for you.

            – What’s that?

            – Well, you’ll see in a minute. How have you been keeping?

            – Very well, thanks. I go back to work next Monday just in time to start on a new project. I’m quite looking forward to it, really. And I’ve moved into a loft with three friends who are all amputees. We help each other out.

            – It sounds like an excellent arrangement. Here we are. Come in. Now, if you can get onto the examination table – shall I lift you? Take the socket off please, and your peg, of course. Have you been managing with just the one peg?

            – Yes, it works very well with my short crutches.

            – I’m glad to hear it. I’ll fetch the new socket.

He went to the storeroom and brought out two halves of the socket and a new pair of short crutches.

            – It could be your present pair will be too short. We’ll see.

Nagy turned the front half around and showed it to Ellis.

            – Look here! I’ve covered the gap in the crotch with something like a codpiece. It fastens with press studs and it will enable you to go naked, so to speak, and maintain decency. You could wear the socket with a t-shirt or a hoodie, for example, and nothing else. The stubbies are part of the rear half of the socket. Here. Your stump will fit into this stubby with room to spare. It is not intended to be weight bearing. And on the opposite side, you have its mirror image. The diameter of the base is twelve and a half centimetres and they are thirty centimetres long. In the base, you can see an indentation with a screw fixture.

He leaned down and picked up a black velour bag, long and narrow.

            – These are for you. They screw in to the base of the stubbies and you will be able to stand a little taller if you should wish to.

Ellis pulled out two pairs of peg leg pylons, one pair twenty , the other thirty-five centimetres long. They were chrome-plated steel and terminated in large black rubber ferrules.

            – Screw these in to the base of the stubbies and you can be taller. I would advise you to practise caution while you are learning to use them. Have you somewhere you can practise in safety?

            – Yes, our loft is enormous.

            – It sounds wonderful. Practise there. You will obviously need adjustable crutches if you want to alter your leg lengths, but to start off, put the torso socket on and we’ll see if your current crutches are still adequate.

Ellis took the rear section with its attached stubbies and placed it near the end of the table. He rotated his behind from side to side, ‘walking’ over the shell until he was able to insert his stump into the right stubby. Nagy handed him the front section and Ellis placed it over his chest and midriff, engaging the clamps. He locked all four.

            – Is it comfortable?

            – Yes, it feels exactly the same as the old one.

            – Good. I hoped it would. After all it was made from the same mould but sometimes things can alter slightly. Now you have quite a challenge. How will you get yourself upright? I can suggest one way in which you will always be able to pull yourself erect and that is to install a climbing frame in your bedroom, for example. Dress yourself on the floor and pull yourself up using the bars on the frame until the stubbies are flat on the floor. You should also have a dedicated place in which you store your crutches so you can reach them. You will not be able to walk to the other side of the room to fetch them, after all. It may be possible to walk after a fashion by rocking and twisting your body to force the stubbies forward but you are severely limited in your range of movement by your torso socket. If you allow me, I shall lift you onto the floor.

            – Yes please, Dr Nagy.

Nagy gripped Ellis under his armpits, gently lowered the young man to the floor and proffered his crutches. As expected, they were too short.

            – How do you like standing without crutches, Ellis? Is it liberating?

            – It is. I love this immobility. I am kicking with my stump like I did with my peg but nothing moves. Totally reliant on crutches.

            – Let me measure your new height and I’ll prepare this new pair of crutches. Unfortunately these are only steel, not chrome like the old ones. I shan’t be long.

He crossed to his workbench, sliced the crutches to a suitable length and fitted thick rubber ferrules. He held each one as Ellis fitted them onto his arms and leaned on them.

            – It’s all yours. Go ahead!

Ellis spread the crutches and lifted himself slightly. The stubbies moved forwards. Tentatively, Ellis tested how much he could extend the crutches to get a rhythm started and after several minutes was crutching fairly confidently up and down between the parallel bars.

            – It seems to me that you have the idea, Ellis. Do you want to keep that socket on or will you change back to this one?

            – I think I’ll wear this new one. I should probably put some shorts on.

            – Yes, you should – but you see that you are not indecent at the moment. You may not wish to appear quite so exhibitionist in everyday life, Ellis. Shorts and a hoodie would be appropriate. How are you going to get home?

            – I came by tram. I could go back the same way.

            – Public transport. Hmm. It’s almost rush hour. Do you feel you can cope on a packed tram?

            – Yes. People are usually considerate when they see my disability.

            – Very well. I shall send your old socket and crutches to your address by courier. They should arrive tomorrow afternoon.

            – Thank you for everything, Dr Nagy. This was a wonderful surprise.

            – Message me if you have any queries, Ellis. I wish you well.

 

Ellis felt taller and more confident on his immovable new stubbies than on his peg leg. More stable too. He could stop and stand to take his phone out, for example. Was he more or less disabled now he had lost the use of his stump? He found a comfortable crutching rhythm for his new height as he made his way to the tram stop. There was room to stand on the rear deck. Traffic was heavy and the journey was less uncomfortable for the legless passenger.

 

Ellis let himself into the loft. The others had arrived home. They were in the kitchen with an untouched crate of beer.

            – Here he is!  The new improved Ellis!

He leaned on his crutches and pulled himself forward twice. Then he did something the others had not seen before. He balanced on his stubbies and raised his crutches to each side like wings. He continued crutching and the others applauded. Ellis was an extraordinary sight. A completely crippled figure having the time of his life, enjoying a new triumph and the admiration of his friends.

            – If you think this is impressive, wait until you see what I’ve got in my bag. Nagy gave me two sets of longer pegs I can screw into this torso socket. I can be almost as tall as you are. Needs a bit of practice though. One of you can help me try them out a bit later.

Jim got up and fetched four tins of beer and toasted Ellis on his new stubbies. They drank his health.

 

After eating, with three sitting and one standing at the table, the retired to the lounge and asked Ellis to fetch his new pegs. He took the velour package out of his backpack and put it on the coffee table. He put his crutches on the floor and stood, untied the drawstring and place the four pegs in a row on the table.

            – If I lay down on the sofa, maybe someone can screw two pegs in for me and help me up. Oh, I’m going to need longer crutches. My adjustables are under my bed.

            – I’ll get them.

            – Thanks Tom.

            – Here you go, mate. Lie down then and I’ll screw you.

            – Ha! Let’s try the shorter pegs first. Can you lift me to the end of the sofa? I want to topple onto it.

Tom steadied himself on his peg and picked Ellis up. He place him where Ellis had space to lie face down. Ellis stretched his arms forward and fell onto the sofa. Tom screwed the two shorter pegs into the torso socket and helped Ellis up again. He held onto Ellis’s arm.

            – Jim, can you get those crutches, please? Thanks. Let’s see if they need adjusting. Hold Ellis for a minute, Jim.

Tom shortened the crutches a couple of notches and handed them to Ellis who was relieved to have them.

            – Thanks, you two. Let’s see how this feels.

He carefully backed away from the sofa and slowly crutched across to the window on the immovable steel pegs. He came back and leaned on them.

            – How did I do? It feels amazing to be so much taller again. I’m going to get a beer from the kitchen.

He returned with the tin in his hoodie pocket and asked Guy to open it. By placing a crutch tip in front of his pegs, he formed a tripod which provided enough stability for him to drink using the other hand. The crutch hung from his arm by its ring. The others watched. More than one of them wondered how long it would be before Ellis tired of standing, not only that evening but always, everywhere. It was true that wearing the shell felt the same whether he was standing or sitting but it would be interesting to see how Ellis would manage. Being so reliant on crutches and, to all practical purposes, completely legless was a challenge beyond what the others were prepared to endure. Even Tom, who was toying with the idea of becoming a bilateral above knee amputee using stubbies. He would have to rely more on crutches in the future but he would at least be able to stand upright and walk without them. Ellis could never do so in his new configuration.

 

Jim lowered the screen and they spent much of the evening watching two documentaries about the rehabilitation of disabled war veterans with their primitive prosthetics. It did not escape their notice that they wanted exactly the same prostheses for themselves. Tom had donned his pretender hooks and was amused to see gear from a century ago was the same as what he was wearing.

 

At bedtime, Ellis positioned himself so that he would topple onto his bed and fell forward. He pushed himself onto his back and released the four clamps which held the torso socket together. He lifted the top half off and placed it on the floor. He pushed himself free of the rear section and unscrewed its two short steel pegs. It had been fun being a little taller but the stability which the built-in stubbies provided was an advantage. He would have to talk to Jim about having the wall frame made which Nagy had suggested. He could imagine himself donning his socket on the floor and crawling over to the frame to pull himself erect.

 

He brought the subject up at breakfast next morning.

            – I think it will be the only way I can dress myself without needing someone else’s help.

            – Yes, I think it would be a good idea. It’s about time we did something about constructing those extra three bedroom pods. I thought instead of building them as one long unit, they would be separate units along that wall, separated by gaps of about a metre and a half. The doorway would be in the short corridor, if you see what I mean. So the walls facing the room would be flat surfaces. And the rear part of the corridors would be good storage space for prosthetics and crutches and wheelchairs and whatever we need. They would be out of the way but easily accessible.

            – That sounds like a very good layout, Jim. I’m all for it.

It was unanimous. Over the weekend they would create a blueprint for a couple of carpenters who had erected Jim’s bedroom pod and get them to construct and paint the other three during the week, the last before Ellis returned to work. He would have his climbing frame within a few days.

 

Jim, Guy and Tom left for work and Ellis decided he would practise lying down and getting up again on just his stubbies. The best place to do it was either on his bed or the sofa, making sure he was always able to reach his crutches. The thick rubber bases under the stubbies gripped the wooden floor securely and let Ellis push himself up from a horizontal position without slipping. He tried it a few times and was satisfied that he had it nailed. The buzzer sounded and he crutched to the entrance to use the door phone.

            – Hello, who is it?

            – Courier delivery for Ellis Baldwin.

            – That’s me. I’ll come down. Please wait.

Ellis went to the lobby and opened the door. Chris stood there with a big grin on his face.

            – Hi Ellis, mate! Good to see you again. Shall I bring this upstairs for you? Where’s your peg leg?

            – Oh, I thought I’d wear these stubbies today. Actually, you’re carrying my peg leg right now. Come on in.

            – I’m sorry I can’t stay today. I’ve got a shitload of deliveries to make and I’m already running late. Your legs don’t move, do they? You’re just kind of rigid all the way down.

            – Yeah. It’s what all the fashionable amputees are wearing this season.

            – You look really horny. Little black legs and crutches. Man, I wish I could spend some time with you. Will you call me one day and we could get to know each other better? Where shall I put this?

            – I’ll call you next time we have some friends over. Put it on that coffee table, will you? We’ve been waiting to have some building work done here first to get the place tidy before we have people over again.

            – OK, great. You take care, Ellis.

He leant over, held Ellis’s face between his hands and kissed him.

            – See you.

 

Jim was finding it difficult to concentrate on coding the shoot-’em-up. It was pretty much another run of the mill job. He had to remember to call Alvarado about the availability of new prosthetic arms. He was due to get new stumps at the weekend. He had not told the others yet. He messaged Alvarado. i will shortly need new pair arms. can you manufacture or must i buy from private company? Twenty minutes passed before a reply arrived. i can make new arms 50% subsidy. is current pair broken? – no. new stumps. – drop in when able.

That was a relief. He trusted Alvarado to do a good job without too many questions. The afternoon’s work went better.

 

Ellis was standing in the kitchen drinking coffee when the buzzer sounded again.

            – Hello, Baldwin speaking.

            – Hello. You ordered some construction work. We’re ready to start.

            – Oh, I didn’t know to expect you. Come on in. Fifth floor.

Ellis opened the front door and waited for the lift to arrive.

            – This way!

            – How d’ya do! My name is Steve Garret and this is my partner Pete Driver. Jim tells us he wants three more bedroom spaces built. Is that right?

            – Yes. Come in and I’ll show you. Did Jim send you any drawings?

            – He did. Three bedrooms with gangways in between. I say, are you alright?

            – Oh, yes I’m fine. Legless, but fine. Don’t worry about it.

            – No. OK. Well, there’s room here to bring our supplies up. We’ll have to move those beds but otherwise we could get started right away if that’s alright?

            – Sure, go right ahead. I’ll buzz you in again.

 

Steve and Pete brought in precut lengths of two by four, followed by several large sheets of plywood. They carried the beds over to the window and piled crutches and other miscellaneous items onto them.

 

Two hours later, the framework was ready.

            – It might make life easier if we put the beds in the rooms before we continue. Can you tell us whose bed goes in which room?

Ellis pointed them out.

            – And one of the rooms is going to have a climbing frame attached to the wall.

            – Yes, it’s for me. It’s to let me pull myself up before I get my crutches under me.

            – Is that so? Well, you can point out the best place to build it then. You can have it exactly where you need it.

            – Good, I’ll do that. Would you like coffee, by the way?

            – That would make a nice break before we put the walls up.

            – I’ll call you when it’s ready.

They watched Ellis swing his rigid body and glossy black legs over to the kitchen. Steve looked at Pete and shook his head.

            – Put a bullet in my brain if anything like that ever happens to me, mate. Let’s start on these walls.

Ellis called them over ten minutes later. He had made a cafetière of coffee and found some cheesecake in the fridge. Two plates and forks were on the table waiting. It was almost elegant.

            – I hope you don’t mind me asking, but how did you manage to lay the table?

            – Trade secret but it involved putting stuff on one of those stools and moving the stool with my crutches.

            – Have you been disabled for long? You certainly know a few tricks, it seems.

            – Not very long. About eight weeks, I suppose. I had an argument with an express train and the train won.

            – Well, bugger me! I don’t know what I’d do if I lost a limb.

            – You could either mourn it for the next fifty years or decide to get on with life and do things a little differently. Like me with the stool. It takes a little longer but we have everything on the table.

            – True enough, I suppose. Are you here at home all the time?

            – I have been since the accident but I’m going back to work next Monday. I’m a programmer so I can do that without legs.

            – Very interesting. Well, Pete shall we get the bedrooms ready?

            – Thanks for the coffee and cake, mate!

            – Don’t mention it!

 

Ellis’s room was ready first. Panelling was added to both the inside and outside of the frame, resulting in smooth walls both sides. The back wall of the bedrooms was the original red brick.

            – We’ll do your climbing frame last of all. We have to get the parts from the van.

Ellis went back to the kitchen and loaded the dish washer. It was awkward when workmen were present in your home. You wanted to watch them out of interest but knew it would feel intrusive. He went over and asked if it would be ok to go into his new bedroom.

            – Yes, of course! We’ll be busy here for a while yet. Sorry about the noise if you want to take a nap.

Ellis had decided to lie down on his bed, knowing there was someone he could call to for help if he could not get up again. He managed to snooze, lulled by the low voices of the workmen, ignoring the barks of their nail gun. He woke when Steve put his head around the doorway and knocked gently on the wall.

            – Sorry to disturb you but we could make your climbing frame now, if you show us where you want it.

            – It’s OK. I’ll show you the sort of thing I need and why I need it.

Ellis pulled himself onto the floor and dragged his rigid body and stubbies over to the back wall.

            – What I want now is to be able to grab onto a horizontal bar about forty centimetres off the floor and then have a series of them at forty centimetre intervals up to about two metres. Something about a metre wide should do it. And if you don’t mind, can you pull me up and lean me against the wall, please.

Steve grabbed Ellis around the chest and was taken aback by the hard shell.

            – And can you give me my crutches from by my bed? Thanks. Mobile again!

            – I don’t know how you do it, mate, honestly. Well, we have everything we need in the van. Some good thick dowelling and some four by two. You’ll have your frame before you know it.

            – I’m looking forward to it. It will make me more independent of the others.

The climbing frame was secured to the wall ninety minutes later and Steve called Ellis to give it a try. Ellis dropped his crutches and fell forward onto his bed and then onto the floor. He dragged himself and his crutches across to the frame and stood the crutches up, one each side of the frame. He grabbed hold of the lowest crossbar and pulled himself up, grabbed the next one and the next one until he was standing with his stubbies flat on the floor and his crutches within his reach. It worked! He thanked Steve and Pete profusely.

            – I’m glad that works for you. We’ll be back tomorrow around eleven to do a spot of painting and build the closets. Are you ready, Pete? See you tomorrow, mate.

            – Bye. Thanks very much.

He crutched to the door with them to see them out, actually keeping pace with them. He turned back to see the loft transformed. It looked a little smaller but much tidier without beds and other stuff along the wall. It would look even better tomorrow when the pods were painted white. Maybe some full-length mirrors would add some variation and give the place some depth. And they could all admire themselves and the new variations of themselves as they gained more prosthetic limbs and new ways of being. He went back to bed.

 

The arrival of the other flatmates woke him. He crawled off his bed and dragged himself to the climbing frame, bringing his crutches with him. He lifted them to lean upright against the back wall and pulled himself to a standing position. He picked up the crutches and moved himself out of the bedroom where he stopped and looked at his mates looking back at him.

            – I can get myself up! Come and see what I’ve got!

They went over, admired the frame and went to look at their own rooms. Jim was delighted for Ellis.

            – That will make a huge difference to you, won’t it? Would you like us to have more of them around the place? Maybe one by the bathroom or the entrance?

            – It might be good if there was one against that wall next to the kitchen. That space is always free so there’s room on the floor to sprawl out.

            – Yeah, that would be a good place. I’ll get the guys to make one there too. Did you get on with them OK?

            – Yeah, they were a bit bug-eyed at first but they got on with it and left me alone. I made coffee around midday and we had a bit of a chat in the kitchen.

            – Good. They make a good team and don’t waste time.

            – No, I was surprised how quickly they worked. They had all the bits precut so all they had to do was piece them together. They’re coming back tomorrow to make the closets and paint the whole shebang. Shall I ask them to paint your pod too? Just so it definitely matches.

            – Yeah, tell Steve to paint it again.

 

By the end of the next afternoon, the work was complete. Each bedroom space had a column of wide shelves on the left and another of pigeonholes on the right which were spanned by a metre and a half long steel bar. A raised platform on and under which could be stored footwear. Ellis would find some use for it, he was sure. They could unpack their suitcases and bin bags at long last.

 

After dinner, Jim announced that he had something to tell them

            – Tomorrow morning I am going to have my arms re-amputated. I have arranged with Alvarado that he will fit me with above-elbow prostheses for half price, because I’m ordering a new pair before the three year limit is up. It’s only been a few weeks, after all. When I come back, next week I assume, I shall be armless until I get the new hooks, so I hope you won’t mind feeding me and wiping my arse for a few days. I don’t intend learning to use my feet to eat dinner with.

            – Of course we’ll help. So what have you told Antex?

            – Nothing as yet. They’ll be informed on Monday that one of their staff has required additional surgery and that will be that as far as they are concerned. I’ll be home here for a couple of weeks while I get my arms made and then I’ll be back.

            – It’s a big decision, Jim. You’re going to be much more disabled than you are now.

            – I want to be. And I want to get myself a pair of passive arms later. Prosthetic arms which are purely cosmetic. They fill out sleeves and look like I have hands at first glance. I’ll wear those and be really disabled. Not so it inconveniences any of you, but maybe when we’re watching tv or something in the evening, I can wear fake arms for the fun of it. Imagine wanking with them!

            – I thought there must be some point to it! Your new hooks are going to be bastards to operate too but if you’re going to enjoy the feeling of helplessness, I say go for it.

            – Yes, thanks Tom. You understand.

            – It’ll be my turn next. I want my leg trimmed back to match my stump.

            – You want legs or stubbies?

            – Stubbies, black leather. I might not even bother with artificial legs, even though I’ll be entitled to have a pair.

            – How about you Guy? Are you going to have your leg off?

            – I think so. I can’t decide if I want to keep my left stump. I do like the idea of being a one-legged man on a wooden leg. I will use a wheelchair. Think how the lonely wooden leg will look in a wheelchair!

            – That would be really horny. I think you should do it. Can you wait until Tom has his stubbies?

            – Yes. I can wait.

            – And Ellis, have you reached your final shape?

            – I want my leg stump amputated so I have a round body stump. Just my cock and balls hanging out. And I might have a hand off so I can use a hook. And if I get on with it, maybe I will get another one. After that, there’s only your route left to me, Jim. Double above elbow amputations and passive arms to wank with.

            – That sounds like a pretty good scenario to me. All of it. It would make us a unique community of men living in a unique space designed specifically for multiple amputees. We should give it a name. Chez Moignons, the House of Stumps.

            – Ha! Very apt. Chez Moignons it is!

 

Next morning Jim stuffed a backpack with toiletries, T-shirts and underwear and his phone charger. He hugged everyone and they wished him good luck.

 

Brenton Harter met him at the agreed rendezvous.

            – Hello Jim! Nice to see you. We have everything ready and waiting for you. Before we begin, however, please pay the outstanding balance to my account. You can do it after we arrive.

            – Yes, of course. Will you be operating immediately?

            – We will. We estimate the operations will take a maximum of two hours assuming no complications, so you will be a double AE amputee by teatime.  Here’s my car.

            – Very nice.

            – Put your rucksack on the back seat. We don’t have a long way to go. Half an hour’s drive. Dr Menard’s private surgery is on their estate and we have access to the premises until next Wednesday evening, apparently. On our return journey, I will drive you home and ensure you are safely inside. I don’t want to leave a defenceless patient on the streets.

            – No. That’s good of you. I was wondering about getting home.

They travelled the rest of the way in near silence. Jim looked at his six weeks old hooks and felt a pang of sorrow at losing them.

 

Menard House was an impressive building in its time. Now the illogically ornate façade looked ridiculous.

            – Right. Let’s go around the side to the surgery and meet the others. Judson is here, of course, on account of his father and Garret and Jame whom you will remember from our first meeting. Jame will perform the amputation of your left stump and I will perform the other. Do please go in. Wait just a moment. I’ll see what the situation is.

He walked down a corridor and was lost to view. Jim could hear muffled voices. Footsteps returning.

            – Jim, everything is ready. Come along please.

He rose and walked toward the theatre. The others greeted him. Brenton asked him to sit for a moment and reminded him that now would be a good time to complete the money transfer. Jim found his phone and soon showed Brenton the sum which had been credited to his account.

            – Perfect. Let’s begin. Take your clothes and prosthetics off and put on this paper overall. We need to discuss the exact locations for your amputations. You do wish to have symmetrical stumps, do you not?

            – I do. I want stumps which are just long enough to extend slightly below the sleeves of a typical t-shirt.

            – Mid humeral amputations. Perfect. I personally think stumps of that length provide the optimal visual pleasure as well as operating an AE prosthesis with comparative ease. Do you wish to remain conscious during your amputations? We can give you a full anaesthetic if you prefer.

            – I never thought of watching my own amputations! I would find that interesting.

            – You will be somewhat sedated but your post-surgical recovery will obviously begin sooner. I intend neutralising all major nerves and burying them deeper into the remaining tissue. You will not have phantom pain in the future but, of course, the side effect is that much of your lower stump will have no feeling. This will not matter for prosthetic use. We also have access to regeneration electrolysis. We estimate your sutures will have closed completely by this time tomorrow and deeper healing will be well under way. On Monday your stumps will be fitted with shrinkers which you should wear at night from now on. Do you have any questions?

            – No, I’m satisfied with all you have said.

            – Good. I will mark out your stumps now so you will have an idea of the length.

He drew blue lines marking incisions and a blue dotted line to indicate the expected final length of the above elbow stumps.

            – Is this what you had in mind?

            – Yes, that is exactly what I want.

            – In that case, we can begin. Jame, you have the anaesthetic. Stand by. Jim, get on the operating table and place your stumps out to the side. Right arm first, Jame.

Jim received several injections into his stump and one into his shoulder. It was a relaxant. The group murmured among themselves and Garret set up a camera. Five minutes later, Brenton tested the effect of the anaesthesia. He pricked Jim’s stump with a needle.

            – Can you feel this, Jim?

            – I don’t know what you’re doing, but no, I can’t feel anything.

            – Good. We begin.

Brenton donned surgical gloves and grasped a scalpel. The amputation of Jim’s right stump was under way.

 

The group of students were fascinated by amputation as a sexual fetish but from an unusual angle. Instead of enjoying photos and videos of men with stumps and prosthetic limbs, they enjoyed performing amputations. Garret would video the entire procedure and produce an edited production thirty minutes long. This was sold on the dark web for several hundred dollars per encrypted download. The students had several years’ experience behind them. Brenton had amputated his best friend’s left hand when he was sixteen because the lad wanted a hook. He had over twenty amputations under his belt. Fifteen of them were viewable online for a price. Brenton’s former best friend was now, at the age of twenty-three, a quadruple amputee and extremely happy as a bilateral below elbow, bilateral above knee amputee. Brenton intended persuading Jim to encourage his circle of friends to achieve more amputations. The group had already netted a million dollars to share between the four of them. Another million would be most welcome. It was the reason the amputations were so inexpensive for the patients.

 

Brenton neutralised the nerves as promised. They were severed and hidden inside muscle tissue. He pulled muscle mass away from the bone. A bone saw severed the humerus in under five seconds. Garret was careful to video this phase accurately. It was their viewers’ favourite part. Brenton bevelled the severed edges of the bone with a file and replaced muscle around it. He fixed their required shape with a few dissolvable stitches and closed the skin flaps with electrically conductive instant glue. He looked at his handiwork with great satisfaction and gave the rest of the team a thumbs up.

            – Jim, can you hear me? I have finished your right stump. It looks very satisfactory. Jame will now amputate your left stump. Do you understand?

Jim nodded.

            – Go ahead, Jame.

 

An hour later, Jim was a bilateral above elbow amputee. Jame initiated the regeneration system and gave Jim a shot to make him sleep through until morning. They would take turns to watch over Jim during the night, three hours at a time.

 

Jim awoke at nine. He needed a pee and felt very hungry. He made as if to push himself up on his elbows and suddenly realised the enormity of the disability he had instigated. Garret was nearby and noticed he was awake.

            – Good morning, Jim! How are you feeling? Want some breakfast?

            – My arms are gone.

            – They are indeed, Jim. You now have the configuration you came here to achieve. Your stumps are barely long enough to peek out of a short-sleeved shirt. They are magnificent.

            – I need to pee. Can you help me get up?

            – Use this bottle, Jim. I’m going to touch your penis. No need for concern. OK, pee when you feel like it. We don’t want you running around just yet so soon after the anaesthetic. You can get up after lunch. You’ll feel better then anyway.

            – I couldn’t get up just now.

            – Your centre of gravity has changed, Jim. You have to engage other muscles, firm up your tummy. Give it a few weeks and you’ll hardly remember any other way of being. Are you going to have artificial arms or just bare your stumps?

            – I need hooks for work. Coding for video games. Lots of typing.

            – I see. Maybe you could use voice input from now on.

            – Why would I need that?

            – You’re not going to get much typing done with two prosthetic hooks by shrugging your shoulders, are you, Jim? That’s the only way to operate hooks now you’ve lost your elbows. You have a complete change of lifestyle ahead of you and everything you do will be a challenge. Everything.

            – Fuck.

            – OK, looks like you’ve finished down here. Shall I bring you some breakfast? What would you like? Bacon and eggs and toast, how does that sound? Coffee or tea? I’ll feed you, don’t worry. Drink some water first. Here you go.

 

Jim spent much of the morning pondering his new appearance. His stumps were heavily bandaged and seemed to conform to the length he had described. But he was suffering from an acute form of buyer’s remorse. As soon as his amputated stumps were incinerated, he found himself regretting their loss. Garret had pointed out something which he should have realised weeks ago. With only his shoulders to control two entire arms and their hooks, typing would be next to impossible. Not at the speeds needed to keep up with the rest of the team. He imagined himself pouring a whisky at home with his new arms. It was not going to be possible. He felt tears forming. Now he could not even wipe them away.

 

Guy, Tom and Ellis arrived at work just before nine and waited around for the Monday meeting to start at half past. The team made their way to the conference room and the chief came in looking worried.

            – Welcome back, Ellis! It’s good to have you rejoining us at the start of a new project. I’ve just had some bad news concerning Jim. Apparently his arms developed an infection on Saturday and he was rushed into care for two additional amputations. He’ll be out of it for several weeks at least. I’m sure we all wish him a fast recovery. Sorry, I don’t have any further information.

The team raised a few points about the shoot-’em-up game and received guidance on the direction to take. Tom and Ellis were quiet, not trusting themselves to say anything about Jim.

 

Brenton relieved Garret at eleven.

            – Hello Jim. How are you feeling? Any pain in the stumps? Any nausea?

            – I’m worried about continuing in my job. I need to be able to type code, lots of it, and I have a deadline. I can’t imagine how I’m going to manage.

            – Can you not use voice input?

            – I suppose I could but I can’t imagine the office with half a dozen of us trying to concentrate and me jabbering away in the corner.

            – Couldn’t you work from home? Is there a physical need for you to be in the office?

            – It’s easier to do team work when we’re together. But I guess that after the guidelines have been worked out, I don’t need to be there. Thank you for bringing that up.

            – I don’t want to discourage you but you must realise that your new prostheses are never going to be as practical as your old pair of hooks, regardless of how much you spend on the latest bionic, thought-operated system. You are now a severely disabled man. I thought that was the purpose of the exercise.

            – It was. I suppose I’m just feeling a bit depressed.

            – You have no reason to be. You have two fine-looking stumps. You’re still a young man, tall and handsome. Two artificial arms are hardly going to alter any of that. Keep a positive attitude and you’ll do just fine. Let’s take a look at your new stumps.

He unwound metres of bandage and inspected the incisions. They were red but there was no inflammation and the skin had closed.

            – Very good. Let’s keep the electrolysis going until tomorrow lunchtime. I think if you continue to heal as well as you already have, we’ll be driving to your home tomorrow evening. We can leave the shrinkers off for a while. Take a look at your new stumps, Jim. I’m sure you’ll be happy with them. Your upper body now has perfect proportions.

Brenton’s pep talk improved Jim’s mood and outlook. Of course he could work from home! Of course his new arms would be bastards to use, what did he expect? Things would sort themselves out. They always do.

 

Tom was beginning to feel antsy about his planned amputation. He enjoyed wearing his peg leg and wondered if it might be better to go for bilateral below elbows instead. Keep his leg. Yes, he would do that. He would have a quick word with Jim when he got back. Jim had the students’ contact details. Maybe an appointment could be made. Jim’s old pair of prosthetic arms might fit his new stumps. That would be cool – he would not have to go through the faff of having a new pair made. He imagined himself relaxing in some fashionable late-night bar, leaning against the bar wearing two hooks and a peg leg. Attending a wedding and being the centre of attention instead of the bride.

 

Ellis had found it difficult to work at his old desk. He was a lot shorter than before and could not sit. The chief was looking for an adjustable desk which could be lowered enough to allow Ellis to stand on his stubbies and work. In the meantime, his computer was resting on a piece of plywood propped on top of two empty cardboard boxes. It was functional enough. Ellis was delighted to be back at work. His friends were initially horrified at the diminutive figure with Ellis’s face and voice. He manoeuvred himself with his crutches as they watched in amazement, incredulous that such a severely disabled colleague could continue his career as if nothing had happened.

 

Guy worked on at his coding. He was well used to his own disability and so was everyone else. He was just one of the crowd and they wondered why he did not express more emotion at the return of three newly disabled colleagues. The others had no idea that they all shared Jim’s loft and knew each other’s new bodies intimately.

 

Jim was bored. Lunch was lasagne and Brenton fed it to him. It was the most entertaining thing which had happened so far. There was no video in the room and Jim was unable to operate his phone. He was allowed now to move around the room and often stood by the window looking out at the grounds, now coloured orange and red with the approach of winter.

 

Brenton was on the phone with Judson who had attended college for a lecture. He had just learned that his parents would not be returning from their retreat in Vaud the next day as expected but would be staying for at least another month. Menard Senior had a very lucrative professorship in the offing if he could play his cards right but interminable Swiss bureaucracy and background checks of applicants’ credentials always took time so they should stay on for the duration. Judson’s mother was delighted at the prospect. She loved being abroad, away from the stagnation of her husband’s estate and the mediocrity she saw in the local area. The surgery would be available for all that time. Brenton thanked him for the information and immediately placed an order to his source for a large supply of anaesthetic and other medical supplies necessary for amputations and accelerated healing.

 

Jame had taken over from Brenton and was interested to see how Jim’s left stump was healing. It was only the fourth amputation he had performed and he had felt a little nervous that his surgery would not match Brenton’s. But Jim’s stumps looked perfectly symmetrical. After a little shrinkage they would be shapely and well-defined.

            – I hope you are as satisfied with your amputations as our team is, Jim. I am rather envious of you having such perfect stumps. They will be envied by everyone who has any understanding of such things and I am sure you will be able to handle artificial arms with style. Have you already arranged a fitting with a prosthetist?

            – No I haven’t, but my prosthetist knows to expect me to call.

            – Good. Would you like me to make an appointment? Your stumps will certainly have healed enough for you to be casted some time next week. The sooner we can make the appointment, the sooner you will be functioning with prostheses again.

            – That sounds like a good idea. If you can get my phone from my jacket, I’ll tell you how to reach him.

Judson found the phone and put it on the small table.

            – Come and sit here and you can tell me what to do.

Jim used his legs to twist himself around on the bed and leaned forward in order to rise. It felt strange but also correct. He sat on the chair and pulled himself closer with his toes. He guided Judson to his contacts and dictated a message to Alvarado. request appointment next week for fitting bilateral ae arms. pls advise. Alvarado took his time in replying. Judson continued chatting in his seemingly concerned fashion. He was actually trying to discover sources of more wannabes.

            – Do you know anyone who uses an above elbow prosthesis who could advise you? Perhaps you know someone who admires amputees and could assist? Help is often available from the most unlikely sources.

            – Well, I live with three other amputees but none of them have an AE.

            – Do you mean the other men with you whom we met in the tavern?

            – Yes. We share my loft apartment. We help each other as and where we can. But I believe that shortly, the others will have reconfigured themselves so much that we will all need outside help. Those of us with amputations want more. Like myself.

            – How interesting. Do tell them we are always available to help.

            – I think they already know.

 

Jim watched the hour hand creep slowly on and slept from ten until eight on Tuesday morning. Brenton arrived to relieve Garret and inspected Jim’s stumps.

            – These are already perfect but I want you to wear these liners as much as you can during the day and every night for at least the next three months. Do you understand? They will keep your stumps shaped as you wanted them. Let me remove those electrolysis connectors and you are free to go. You know how to apply these shrinkers already, don’t you? I’ll put them on your stumps now and you will have to ask one of your friends to help remove them.

            – Will you be taking me home? I thought that was the agreement.

            – Yes, I will. Unfortunately I have a lecture in an hour so it will have to be late this afternoon. I hope you can be patient enough to wait, or if you wish, you can make other arrangements.

            – OK, I’ll wait if I can have some company.

            – Of course. Get up and join Judson and Garret in our quarters. I’ll take you there after breakfast. They’ll help you pack and as soon as I return, we can leave. Scrambled egg and coffee OK?

 

Tom had spent the entire evening wearing his pretender’s prosthetic arms. He was very pleased with them and pleased with the way he looked. They changed his self-image in such an unexpected fashion. Without them, he was a guy with a peg leg. That was the main characteristic people saw and remembered. With his prostheses, the hooks were his defining feature. His peg leg faded into the background. It was just another oddity.

 

Tom and Ellis had been feeding each other their evening meals. The pretender sockets were too long for Tom to reach his own mouth but he could feed someone sitting next to him. It was a lot of fun, especially for Ellis who needed no help. Being fed his dinner by his good friend wearing hooks was fairly erotic. Poor Guy, he thought. He seems so isolated as we plan our new amputations. What is he thinking about?

 

Guy was also planning some alterations. The calipered leg could go altogether. Disarticulation. He was still unsure whether to lose his stump. Perhaps it would be cool to keep it and wear the wooden leg while seated in the wheelchair he intended to adopt. On the other hand, it would be possible to have two disarts and still place the wooden prosthesis on his wheelchair’s seat. He would be sitting in a bucket like Ellis instead of wearing a caliper all the time. He would be able to scoot around in a body socket just fine or add a pylon or two if he wanted to be taller. Maybe that was the future. He needed to make his mind up. To continue being disabled as he was or to be disabled in a different way? He would share something in common with Ellis. He had never felt he shared anything with anyone before. That was the way to go.

 

Brenton’s lecture discussed the advantages of vestigial limbs for amputees who required high bilateral above knee amputations. Disarticulations usually required augmentation with a corset embodying an artificial stump or stumps on which the patient would rely to maintain equilibrium when sitting. Two short residual limbs, however, allowed the patient to sit unassisted. Brenton decided to try it out at the first available opportunity.

 

Lecture over, he drove home and found Jim in the students’ quarters talking about mishaps in the video games business. Garret and Judson had come to appreciate that fact that their latest amputee was a skillful and intelligent man whose professional knowledge had allowed them to while away many otherwise tedious hours. And not a piece of meat.

            – Jim, are you ready? Your ride is waiting. I hope you have packed.

            – Yes, I’m all set and ready. Thanks guys. Hope to see you again some time.

He leant forward to stand up and looked Brenton in the face.

            – Let’s go.

            – I’ll fetch your bag.

 

Brenton explained what his afternoon lecture had posited, simply for something to talk about. Jim’s mind filled with images of Guy balancing on two very short stumps. It was too late for Ellis. But Guy would be able to sit in a wheelchair and lower himself to scoot about without problems. What would Guy look like in a wheelchair? Like an Adonis or like an invalid? It probably depended on personality.

 

After an hour’s drive, Brenton’s electric Audi pulled up outside Waterside 7.

            – I’ll bring your things.

            – I need the keycard for this door, Brenton. It’s in my phone case. Grey and orange card. That’s it.

They entered and Brenton summoned a lift.

            – Fifth floor.

Jim kicked the door to his loft. Tom opened it.

            – Already? Hi! Welcome home! Hello, I recognise you. Would you like to come in?

            – Thank you. That’s kind of you.

Jim wandered slowly over to the lounge area and lowered himself onto a sofa. The others looked at him for signals of his mood. Tom invited Brenton to sit with them

            – Can we offer you anything? Coffee, tea, juice?

            – A cup of tea would be perfect, thank you.

            – I’ll get it.

            – Are you going to take your jacket off, Jim? We’re dying to see your new arms.

Jim shrugged his shoulders and the sleeves flailed.

            – Pull it off, someone,

Brenton lifted it from his shoulders and folded in onto his lap. Jim’s stumps poked out from the short sleeves of his t-shirt.

            – Wow! Jim! You look absolutely fantastic! They suit you perfectly. We always said you looked like you were born to wear hooks. Wait till you get your new ones. You’ll be unbeatable!

            – I’m pleased to hear that you approve of my work. Or should I say, our work. I am responsible for Jim’s right stump and my colleague Jame the other. I would also like to inform you that our surgery is unexpectedly available for at least the next month. If any of you are harbouring thoughts of re-amputation, now is the time for action. We ask for only a small fee, three thousand. Jim will tell you of his experience and you see before you the results of our work. So please feel free to use our services if you so desire.

            – How much for two amputations at the same time?

            – You’re Tom, aren’t you? Yes, I remember. You are very distinctive with your peg leg. It’s very exclusive. We operated on Jim’s stumps for a total of five thousand. It was be disingenuous to offer you the same service for anything more. Five thousand. What amputations do you require, Tom?

            – DBE. About four inches of forearm. Enough to use prostheses. As you can see I am already wearing hooks but these are for pretenders.

            – Yes, I suspected they were. They are a little long, are they not? Difficult to use to eat or drink?

            – They are. I would feel comfortable with two stumps and hooks.

            – It occurs to me that Jim’s old prostheses may be suitable for you if we gauge your stump length correctly. What do you say, Jim? Do you want to keep your old arms or shall we give them to Tom?

            – Tom can have them. No use to me.

            – I’ll fetch them from your bag, if I may, Jim? Just a moment.

He fetched Jim’s useless prostheses and examined them.

            – Come and sit beside me, Tom. I want to see if these arms can be adjusted so they will fit your forearm stumps. Put the harness on if you can. It doesn’t matter if the arms hang. Yes, this could be loosened slightly to fit. Let’s check the length too. The cable length is a given, always the same. Do you think this socket opening is wide enough for your arms, Tom?

            – Well, Jim had beefier arms than I have, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t fit my stumps. And these sockets are fairly wide until they reach the wrist, aren’t they? I could get fairly long stumps into these. Jim, what do you say? Can I have these?

            – You’re welcome to them. It will be good to have another genuine hook user here.

            – It would be very advantageous.

            – Tom, can you beg off work? If you feel ready, you can come with me tonight and we will amputate your hands tomorrow morning.

            – I’ll get my coat! What else do I need? Toothbrush and a clean t-shirt. Wait just a moment while I take these things off for the last time.

            – I want them!

            – Here you are, Guy. Have fun!

            – Well, gentlemen. It has been rewarding meeting you again and please bear in mind that any revisions you would like are available over the next four weeks. Talk to Jim about his experience and welcome to get the body image you want. Tom, are you ready? Let’s go. Bring those prostheses with you.

 

            – Well, that was a surprise. I thought Tom wanted matching leg stumps, not his hands off.

            – I thought he might have been hatching the idea some time ago when he wanted these pretender arms. You know what it’s like, Jim, better than any of us. Once you have mastered one set of artificial limbs, you want another one.

            – You make it sound like Lego.

            – Have you seen the arms that young bloke made from Lego? Fingers and thumbs move and everything.

            – No, we’ll have a look at that later.

 

Brenton was able to form a clear understanding what Tom expected to achieve with his amputations. Tom explained the exact length his wanted his stumps to be. He wanted to be able to use Jim’s old pair of prostheses which he had grabbed at the last minute.

            – I’m sure you’ll leave the facility wearing them in a few days, Tom. If they feel a little loose, the interior of the sockets can be lined with foam. You know from wearing the non-amputee arms that a precise fit is not essential for the arms to function. Leg sockets have to be painstakingly accurate matches for leg stumps because they are weight–bearing. Not so with upper limb sockets.

            – How long would you recommend my stumps to be, Brenton?

            – I am quite certain that fifteen centimetres from the inside bend of your elbow is more than enough. Jim’s prostheses will fit your stumps although Jim’s stumps are a little shorter. You have also requested higher amputations but I suggest that you accept mid-forearm stumps first. They can always be revised later if you really want very short stumps. They present their own problems for prosthetic use, though.

 

Brenton described the procedure he and Jame would undertake at ten the next morning. Tom chose to remain conscious during his amputations out of interest and respect for his handsome hands. Garret captured the entire double amputation on video. Brenton removed the waste biomass for incineration. The regeneration system was fitted to the fresh forearm stumps. Tom was allowed to sleep for most of the afternoon and was able to spend the evening still hooked up to the electronics watching video with the students in their quarters.

            – Your stumps look very good on you, Tom. Perfect length and proportion. Would you like something to eat? Some fruit? Just say the word. Also tell us when you’d like to return to your room for the night. One of us will help you with the peg leg.

Tom sat with the students until they retired for the night. Jame detached his peg and stood it up next to Tom’s bed. He took a seat in the darkened bedroom and started his three hour vigil.

 

Brenton removed Tom’s bandages at eleven in the morning to inspect the incisions. They had already closed. Brenton left the bandages off for the rest of the day to allow Tom to accustom himself to his new arm stumps. No matter how much the amputee had wanted a limb removed, the appearance of a new stump was always unexpected and shocking. Successful use of prosthetic limbs relied on the amputee understanding his new body shape. His brain still thought it was controlling an intact body. A hook would not open by merely willing it like a hand would. It needed to be operated like a tool which needed a different sequence of conscious movements, none of which were intuitive. A voluntary amputee’s dream. A traumatic amputee’s nightmare.

 

Twenty-four hours later when breakfast had been fed to him by Jame, Brenton arrived and declared Tom fit enough and his stumps healed sufficiently to allow him to start wearing Jim’s old prosthetic arms, if only as protection from knocking and injuring his stumps.

            – Come and sit at the table, Tom. Let’s try out your new arms. Assuming I can work out which way round they’re supposed to be… That’s it. Stick your left arm out. Do you feel any uncomfortable pressure inside the stump? No? Great.

Brenton eased Tom’s left stump into the black carbon socket.

            – Now the other arm. Stretch it out. Does it feel OK?

The nerves to the ends of both stumps of Tom’s arms had been neutralised, deadened, as part of the amputation. Tom would never feel anything again with the tips of his stumps. Brenton fitted the socket onto the right stump and lifted the harness over Tom’s head.

            – Now, you know how these arms are supposed to feel from wearing the pretender arms so keep these on like this for an hour and then we’ll start adjusting them. When they’re a good fit, I’ll drive you home, OK?

 

By six in the evening, Tom was not only wearing Jim’s artificial arms, he was also using the hooks. The harness fitted securely across his shoulders, the biceps cuffs were adjusted to the appropriate position, the cable length made optimal. Tom was a functioning bilateral below elbow amputee and the amount of precum in his underwear proved that his body thought well of it.

 

            – Grab your things, Tom. Call if you need help. I’ll bring the car around.

 

Tom said his goodbyes and strutted out to the waiting Audi. Brenton helped him remove his peg leg and Tom made himself comfortable in the passenger’s seat.

            – I’m going to have to make that an easier process somehow. I can’t rely on other people to pull my peg off every time I need to squash into a tight space.

            – Talk to your prosthetist. He may have another solution. I suggest that you look into acquiring a pair of crutches which are adapted for use with hooks. Or possibly a pair of peg arms, long crutches you fit your stumps into. There will be a time when you have to be one-legged for whatever reason and it would be advantageous to still be mobile.

            – Good idea. Thanks Brenton. And thanks for these new stumps. They feel great and I really like the way I look as a bilateral.

            – Please don’t mention it. Thank you for your money transfer. I wonder if another of your friends will be returning with me?

            – Ellis may want his leg stump amputated. He wants a symmetrical torso stump. I wonder if he’s ready for it?

Brenton’s imagination flew into overdrive. It would be their first torso stump production and would generate tens of thousands of views online. It might be the one video which pushed them over the two million dollars mark.

            – We shall have to ask him. I’m looking forward to seeing Jim. It will be interesting to hear how he’s adapting to his new stumps.

 

Jim had made an appointment with Alvarado two days previously and visited him that afternoon. Guy accompanied him. They travelled by tram again, changing in the town centre. Guy was aware that he was along only to serve as a proxy for Jim’s fingers. It was not important.

 

            – Jim, good to see you again. And is it Guy? Hello, nice to meet you.

            – Hello, Doctor.

            – Alright, let’s go into my workshop and we can begin. You do seem to have got yourself into a pickle, Jim. No sooner do you lose your hands and recover, you then lose your elbows. Very careless of you. How did it happen?

            – I’m too embarrassed to say.

            – Oh dear. Well, it doesn’t matter. The main thing is to get you a new pair of arms. I’ll cast you now and your arms will be ready by the end of the week. Will you be using the hooks from your previous prostheses?

            – Actually no, they’ve already gone to another home.

            – Well, it’s good that they are getting used rather than being hidden away at the back of your closet. When you think of the money invested in prosthetics which are just gathering dust. I’ll put an order in for new hooks – are two Hosmer Fives OK for you? Well, you can have my demo hooks until the new ones arrive and then we’ll swap. Right, let’s get started.

 

Alvarado casted Jim’s short biceps stumps. Guy watched the man work. He was gentle and seemed to explain what he was doing at every stage although he could not hear what was being said. His hearing seemed to have deteriorated lately. He thought his hearing aids might be failing but it was hardly likely that both of them would malfunction simultaneously. Perhaps he should visit his audiologist. Guy was also trying to decide what amputations he wanted. The opportunity had suddenly presented itself in the form of Brenton and it would seem churlish to refuse it. He so admired Ellis and his shell that he wanted the same for himself. To be rid of his useless legs once and for all. Bilateral disarticulations of the lower limbs, that was what it was called. Something like that. Brenton would know what he meant. He would ask about it when Brenton brought Tom home. Guy glanced up at Jim with his stumps covered in plaster and scrolled through his phone, seeking to buy a wheelchair suitable for an adult with a torso stump.

 

He found one and ordered it. Delivery in three days.

 

            – I don’t know if you would be interested, Jim, but I have a roll of experimental fibre in the stockroom. It works the same way as black carbon fibre but it’s supposed to provide a final appearance like stainless steel. I haven’t been able to interest anyone into volunteering to try it out yet. I don’t suppose you’d like a pair of arms which look like steel, would you?

            – To be honest with you, Dr Alvarado – I can’t think of anything I’d like more! It sounds spectacular.

            – Well, there would be an extra charge because it’s more expensive than the black carbon but only by two or three hundred.

            – That’s fine.

            – You’ll be my guinea pig. I’ll give you twenty per cent off your new prostheses for being the trailblazer. I have no idea what the durability is like, or how scratch–resistant it is. I’d appreciate regular updates from you, if you don’t mind. I imagine wearing two steel arms would attract even more attention than ordinary black prostheses.

            – Well, I hope so.

            – You are a very strange man, Jim. Now let’s get these casts off you and you can go. I’ll message when your steel arms are ready.

            – I’m looking forward to it.

 

Alvarado washed Jim’s stumps to remove plaster residue and helped him into his jacket. The empty sleeves were tucked into its pockets.  Guy pushed himself erect and the pair left for the tram stop. Rush hour was almost over and the return journey took half the time of the outgoing. As Guy and Jim approached Riverside 7, a silver Audi pulled up in front of the building. Brenton got out the car and raised a hand in greeting. He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, helped Tom attach his peg leg and assisted him out of the car.

            – Good evening! Good to see you. I’ve brought your friend back. As you can see, he is all set and ready to go.

            – Hello Brenton. Come upstairs with us and take a break. You’ve had quite a drive.

            – Oh, I just put it on automatic and watch the scenery. The car has learned this route already.

            – Yes, I guess it has. Tom, mate! Your arms look strangely familiar! They really look good on you. Fantastic job, Brenton.

Brenton picked up Tom’s bag and they all went up to the loft.

 

            – Welcome home, Tom! You look great. It’s funny to think that instead of your pretend arms, those are the real thing.

            – They certainly are. Will you help me take them off when we go to bed?

            – Yes I will. Is it my turn next? Brenton, are you still doing amputations?

            – Well, I assume so. Do you have something in mind?

            – Yes. I am currently wearing a torso socket with two rigid stubbies. I have one short leg stump and a disarticulation. I want the stump disarticulated. Are you following me? I want my lower body to resemble that of a stump. A stump with genitals. Are you able to perform a disarticulation?

            – Indeed I am. I presume that your current socket would be viable after your disarticulation too? There would be no change in your mobility.

            – I don’t believe so. All my weight is borne across my ribcage. It makes no difference if I have a useless stump poking into a fake stubby or not. But my body image would improve and I would feel better about myself if I were symmetrical.

            – Quite understandable. I can amputate you tomorrow.

            – I have already packed. Ready when you are!

 

Brenton and Ellis settled the money transfer before leaving Riverside. During the drive, Ellis recounted the way in which he had transformed from an athletic man into a plastic covered midget in a few months and loved every minute of it. He explained how his detachable peg legs enabled him to wear longer shorts and ambulate faster with longer strides. Brenton was fascinated and asked if he might make a video of Ellis crutching along a footpath in a park, for example, or climbing a flight of stairs wearing only his shell and nothing else. It might serve as a clickbait item on YouTube for the real stuff. Ellis replied it could be negotiated. Brenton asked if three thousand would be a suitable sum. Ellis replied that it would and Brenton had to admit that Ellis was about to undergo a free amputation.

 

Garret was in his element. This was the first disarticulation they had done on such a limbless torso and he captured every wrinkle of the disart site and the unwanted thigh stump. He placed his camera on a tripod and set the automatic panning mechanism to follow movement around the amputation incision. Brenton worked with well-practised precision and the stump was off after only forty minutes. The wound was closed and the legless torso fitted with regeneration. Garret continued to video the procedure, although most viewers would not be interested in any recovery process.

 

Saturday morning was well under way. Tom, Guy and Jim were feeding each other brunch when the buzzer sounded.

            – I’ll get it.

Tom pegged across the room to the entry phone.

            – Hallo?

            – Good morning. I have a delivery for a Guy Trevalyan.

            – Yup, come in and bring it up. Fifth floor.

Chris was looking forward to seeing his idol, the legless Ellis. The package he was holding bore an illustration of a wheelchair so he assumed it was for Ellis. Tom was waiting in the hallway when Chris arrived.

            – Hello. Thanks for coming up. Can you bring it inside, please? We’re all a bit disabled at the moment.

Chris carried the wheelchair package in and looked around.

            – Is Ellis not here?

            – Do you know Ellis?

            – Well, I’ve delivered stuff here before and Ellis has always let me in.

            – So you’ve been in here before?

            – Yes, that’s alright isn’t it?

            – Perfectly alright. Would you like a cup of coffee with us?

Still thinking he would see Ellis, Chris accepted the offer.

            – Love to.

            – Come in and shut the door. We’re in the kitchen.

Chris glanced around and met Guy’s and Jim’s eyes. But no Ellis. He noticed two pairs of artificial arms.

            – Hello, pleased to meet you. I was expecting to see Ellis.

            – Ellis is curently having his leg stump removed.

            – Ellis has a leg stump? I thought he was legless.

            – To all intents and purposes, he was. In future, he will be a man with a rounded body stump instead of legs. Does that shock you?

            – Well, I’m surprised, that’s all.

            – Guy here will soon be legless too, I suspect. Won’t you, Guy? You want your legs off?

Guy gave Jim a thumbs up.

            – So next time you come, don’t expect a quick answer. The ones with legs won’t be able to operate the phone and the ones with arms won’t be able to get to it.

Chris looked at them. He had never imagined such a huge number of artificial limbs and prosthetic devices in one room. His erection was hurting him.

            – So you would be helping each other out.

            – Yes, exactly. Although, when you come to think of it, we could do with an extra hand.

            – How do you mean?

            – Oh, there are so many things that an able-bodied person could help with. We would be able to live freer if we didn’t have to spend so much time doing things for each other. Maybe we should try and find a butler.

            – I’ll be your butler, if you want. I already know Ellis and what he needs. I’ve helped him before. Guy will be the same, I think. I can help him the same way. And I can easily help you two with the things you can't manage with your hooks. I used to work in an old people’s home helping with all the lifting and carrying and wiping and feeding. It was OK. It’s nice to help people. It gives you a good feeling. Then the epidemic struck and killed all the old people so I lost my job and bought my van. Now I just deliver packages around town. But it would be nice to come here and help you out if you needed help.

            – I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.

            – Chris Callup.

            – Chris. We do all need help. When we started out, we were a little disabled. We have become very disabled and if I might speak for the others, we are finding it quite a challenge to cope. If you would like to assist us, I have a suggestion. But it involves as big a lifestyle change for you as our amputations have been for us.

            – What do you mean? What are you thinking of?

            – I will employ you for two thousand a month to move in here with us and live rent free to act not only as a butler but as a nurse. You would fit our prostheses in the morning, help us on the toilet and wipe our bums, shop for groceries and in general be a handiman. I take it you’re self-employed?

            – Yes, I am.

            – So you’re free to start any time?

            – Yes.

            – So go and finish delivering your packages, terminate your rent and employment agreements, bring your stuff here and you can move in this evening. Tom, will you sleep with me and Chris can have your pod?

            – Jim, are you serious? Two armless blokes together in the same bed? You bet your life! Chris, I will change the sheets so you’ll have a clean bed tonight.

            – That’s the spirit, mate. So Chris, we’ll see you tonight with your stuff. I know you have a van.

            – Jesus! What a fantastic new job! I’ll be back later. I have a code to let people know it’s only me at the door. Four short beeps. So you won’t need to fumble with the phone if you can’t manage the thing. They’re slippery and difficult to use with hooks, I know. Just buzz me in. I must go now but I’ll see you later. Thanks for the coffee. Bye!

He moved all their dirty mugs onto the counter next to the washer and left.

 

Ellis’s recovery was as rapid as his friends’ and three afternoons later, Brenton drove them both back to Riverside. Ellis was horizontal in the back seat, his built-in stubbies totally unsuited for transport in a car’s passenger seat. Conversation was not restricted and Ellis tormented Brenton with his fantasies of using prosthetic arms like his good mates. Brenton tried to imagine how many downloads a video would generate if it showed a double leg disart having his arms amputated. Stats would go through the roof.

            – Modern bionics can replace limbs with almost full efficiency, Ellis. If you want to have arm stumps there is no reason why you should not continue an active life as a legless torso.

            – Oh, I don't care about bionics. They are heavy, unreliable, stop working whenever there’s a mist and need recharging every two hours. No, give me body-powered hooks any day. They make you look like a man.

            – Are you quite serious, Ellis? Do you really want a pair of hooks? You know there are still three weeks during which we could take you on as a patient? I could collect you any time and bring you back. I know you have mobility problems. Think of how you could be mobile with arm stumps, Ellis. Would you use peg arms?

            – What are peg arms?

            – Think of the socket for an arm stump. Now imagine it being extended down to the floor with a rubber ferrule at the end. You would use it like a crutch. That’s a peg arm.

            – Fuck yeah! I’d have two of those!

            – Well, if you can arrange a manufacturer in the near future, I see no reason why I couldn’t fetch you again for new amputations. You are satisfied with your new stumplessness, I hope?

            – I feel complete. Apart from my arms. They need to be prosthetic.

            – Get in touch, Ellis. We can help you.

            – Thank you, Brenton.

 

Brenton announced their arrival and carried Ellis inside. He stood Ellis on the floor of the corridor and handed him his short crutches. Ellis heaved himself along and tapped the door with a crutch.

            – So soon? Welcome back, mate. Brenton! Come in, do.

Ellis crutched across to the sofas where his friends were sitting watching video.

            – I am as legless as I can be without a hemicorporectomy.

Brenton was shocked. No-one had ever mentioned a hemicorporectomy before and he had no idea how to go about such an amputation. He decided not to rise to the bait.

            – You look just the same, mate. Do you want to sit on the sofa?

            – Yes, I will. Let me get out of my shell and you can see my new body.

He lay on the floor and struggled out of his shell. He pushed both halves of his socket under the sofa.

            – Now this is where I might need some help.

He crawled along the floor to free space on the sofa and pulled himself up.

            – Easy. What are we watching?

            – Hanger’s recent amputee stories.

            – OK, suits me. As far as I’m concerned, Hanger can fuck off.

 

Brenton sat with them for half an hour. He made eye contact with Guy several times and raised an eyebrow. Guy was on the verge of deciding what he wanted. He looked at the naked legless torso of Ellis with his horse dick and balls and decided his best mate should not best him. He would rid himself of his malformed legs completely. He raised his hand.

            – I am ready. Two legs – gone like Ellis. OK?

            – Yes, of course. Five thousand.

            – I will pay it now. Brenton, please get my wheelchair. Over there. I am ready.

Guy picked up his crutches for almost the last time and waved goodbye to his mates. Brenton wished them a good evening.

 

Chris arrived back at nine fifteen. Tom let him in. He was carrying a hold-all and a motorcycle helmet.

            – Hello again everyone! Oh Ellis, you’re back!

He rushed over and kissed his mate.

            – Your body is just like a stump! Ellis, that’s fantastic!

            – Sit down next to me, Chris, and let’s watch the film.

Chris hugged his stumpless idol closer while Tom and Jim exchanged knowing eyebrow signals. It was a remarkable first evening for Chris. He felt like he had come home. So many amputations, hooks, stumps, so much disability. He was in seventh heaven.

 

            – Chris, I want to welcome you to our home.

The video in which a one-armed hero had defeated his opponents was over.

            – Tom has vacated the rightmost pod and moved his stuff out so that’s yours now. You’ll notice there aren’t any electrical sockets in there, but nothing is stopping you from getting a led or two. I want to make it clear that your job is to help us do things we can’t do. But let us try first. Don’t do anything for us before we’ve had a chance to try it ourselves. Like me, for example. I can already do a few things with hooks but I would like help dressing. I’ll call when I need you, OK? You don’t need to stand over me as soon as I get up. And we all go naked so feel free to do the same. We are two armless guys and two legless guys so you’ll have your work cut out.

            – I’m very pleased to be with you. I like helping. It’s like how I feel things ought to be. It’ll take a while before I get used to your routines but thank you for allowing me to help you.

            – Chris, I think we’re going to get on like a house on fire. Right now I need a pee. Can you get my dick out of my trousers?

            – Let’s go.

 

Chris followed the armless man to the wc and held his penis while he urinated. He dabbed the last drops with a piece of toilet paper and pushed the penis back into Jim’s underpants.

            – Thanks Chris. Tell me, when you were here before with Ellis, were you turned on?

            – Yes I was.

            – And what happened then?

            – We had sex on his bed. I let him fuck me. He was in his shell and I had to help him get his dick inside me, We both came.

            – Do you think you will still find Ellis erotic without legs?

            – Yeah, of course. Not having limbs doesn’t make you less of a man.

            – Chris, I think you are going to fit in very well. Welcome to Chez Moignons.

            – The House of Stumps? Ha! That’s good.

            – You know French?

            – My mother is Swiss so I know a few words.

            – On y va.

 

Tom was delighted to share Jim’s bed. They snuggled together and explored each other’s bodies with their stumps. Both had insistent erections and poked each other’s groins. Neither was in the mood for penetration so they slept clinging to each other with the vestiges of arms they still possessed.

 

Chris could not sleep. His pod was nearest the window wall and light from the riverside shimmered on his walls. There was no ceiling over the sleeping areas. Had he been rash in accepting such a responsible job at such short notice? Had he been led by his dick and the promise of being with Ellis again? But what did it matter? He had a better wage than he had earned as a courier and now lived rent free. His thoughts returned to Ellis’s rounded torso stump. How Ellis would lie on his belly and let Chris penetrate his arsehole not being able to move away. And how Ellis would lie on top of him trying to get his legless torso into such a position that his horsedick could fuck his arse.

 

Jim was up first. He went to pee and then to the kitchen. He looked around thinking what he could do and walked over to see if Chris was awake. It was Chris’s job to do what was needed when it was needed and Jim needed some coffee. Chris was fast asleep. It was only six thirty. Jim gently rocked Chris’s body with a foot until he woke.

            – Good morning, handsome. Can you come and give me a hand in the kitchen? You don’t need to dress.

            – Aagh, oh, what? Ah, hi Jim! Good morning! Let me get my undies on.

            – No need, Chris. I like to see a bit of cock in the morning. There’s only you and me awake. I want some coffee.

            – Coming right up. Go and sit down and I’ll be right there after I take a piss.

Chris slid out of bed with his stunning morning wood, much appreciated by Jim who imagined himself fondling it. Jim’s fondling days were over. But tomorrow he would be getting his new arms and he could be whole again. Chris was full of admiration for the husky hunk who had kicked him awake, standing by his bed with two hairy little stumps at his shoulders. Taking the first piss of the day was awkward and he sat on the seat facing the wall and holding his horsedick down. As suggested by his employer, he went naked to the kitchen where Jim was sitting on a stool expecting his appearance.

            – You have a very handsome body, Chris.

            – Well, I’ve worked out and carrying packages around helps me keep in shape.

            – I hope carrying us around will be as effective, mate. Right, first things first. I need some coffee. The doings are in the corner cupboard, the mugs are over the sink and the cutlery is in the second drawer down. Coffee takes three minutes to brew and the timer is stuck to the oven hood.

Chris boiled half a litre of water and poured it into the cafetière.

            – Come and sit down for a minute. I want you to feel like one of us, Chris. You can always join with us when we’re together. You’re our good mate. The only difference between you and the rest of us is that you have a full set of limbs. It’s difficult to say. I want you to feel at home because you are at home. This is not your job. You’re just helping your mates.

            – That’s kind of you to say so, Jim. It will take a few days maybe but I’m sure I’ll get into the swing of things.

            – You like amputees too, don’t you? You get turned on. When you saw Ellis for the first time, I bet you came in your pants.

            – Er, what can I say? Yes, I like looking at amputees. I like to imagine what it might feel like to be without an arm or leg.

            – Well, stick around and you can see it for real.

            – I hope so, Jim. Coffee’s ready.

            – Pour yourself one too. I like talking to you. You know what you like and what you want. And get some clothes on you if you feel chilly. Your hair is standing on end.

            – That’s because I was admiring your arm stumps. They turn me on. They look perfect. Are you going to have artificial arms or are you going to show your stumps? They would look fantastic poking out of a t-shirt.

            – I might do a bit of both, Chris. I’m getting a new pair of artificial arms tomorrow, I think, and even then, I’ll need help with a lot of things. Will you help me put them on every morning? And be my hands when my hooks aren’t good enough?

            – That’s why I’m here, Jim. Remember what we agreed yesterday? Free rent, free help. We are Chez Moignons and that is what I do.

            – You are quite the guy. Welcome to our home, Chris. I’m really glad you’re here with us. We need you.

Chris bowed his head, smiling. He was beginning to feel settled and fulfilled and yet he had hardly even begun. Life was good.

 

Guy’s leg and stump had been disarticulated and he lay in bed watched closely by Garret. He woke and Garret moistened his mouth and offered him water.

            – Would you like to sit up, Guy?

            – I cannot hear you. You must give me my hearing aids. But yes, I would like to be more upright.

Guy’s bilateral incisions were knitting well. They looked red and raw but only twelve hours after amputation, they were secure enough to allow him to balance on his pelvis for a short while. His new wheelchair was nearby.

            – Have you made an appointment with your prosthetist for a body socket?

            – No. I want to go home first. I want to be in the wheelchair.

            – You must get a socket. You will not be able to sit without it.

            – I can make an appointment now. Please give me my phone.

Guy typed out a message to Dr Nagy. urgent. need torso socket. now bilateral disart. The reply: next wednesday 10:00.

 

Jim received a message from Alvarado. prostheses ready 14:00 today. welcome!

            – Chris! My arms are ready this afternoon. Will you come with me?

            – Sure. We’ll go in my van. What time?

            – Two.

            – Remind me to collect it at a quarter to.

 

The chief at Antex Games had been very patient with Jim, Guy, Tom and Ellis. Their continual absences were disruptive, although productivity had not suffered. The others made up for lost time when one of them was undergoing a revision. But now Guy was recovering from fresh amputations, Tom was still practically helpless without artificial arms and Ellis was still on sick leave after becoming utterly legless. Patience was wearing very thin and he messaged all four for a virtual conference. we need to discuss your absences and future employment. virtual conference tomorrow 09:30

            – Oho! Looks like we’re in trouble, guys.

            – We’ve been sussed!

            – There’s an easy answer though. Instead of insisting everyone works in the office, they could let us work from home. Networking is easy enough. We’d only need to get a server and sync it up to Antex’s.

            – I’ve thought that for years. Well, it’s something to bring up tomorrow.

 

Ellis was not prepared to return to work after his disart amputation had fully healed. He was waiting impatiently for Brenton to bring Guy home so he could return to Menard House for two more amputations. He had watched Jim using his hooks and was jealous when they passed to Tom who used them like he was born to them. He was determined to have his own pair. He would ask Brenton to take him for another revision. He would be the group’s first quadruple amputee. Legless and bilateral below elbow amputations. It would be interesting to see who else dared quad themselves. He bet triple amputee Tom would have his remaining leg off in order to walk on bilateral peg legs.

 

Chris did not need reminding to collect his van for the trip to the orthotic department. He parked outside and pressed the buzzer four times to let Jim know he was ready. Ellis opened the door for Jim to let him out. He walked downstairs, unable to operate the lift. Chris helped him into the van, fixed his seat belt and drove to the hospital.

            – You’ll be OK from here, won’t you?

            – Yeah, this is fine. Thanks Chris. See you later.

Jim walked across to the entrance and announced he had an appointment with Dr Alvarado. He collected Jim from the lobby and went to the Orthotics workshop.

            – I hope you are prepared for a bit of a shock, Jim.

            – Oh? Why’s that?

            – You asked for the steel carbon material. It looks very different from what you have seen before.

            – I can’t wait! Are they ready?

            – Yes, they’re ready apart from minor adjustments. Let me fetch them.

He went to his storeroom and returned carrying the new prostheses. They looked completely robotic and alien with steel biceps sockets leading to the broad steel expanse of artificial forearms and terminating in steel hooks. A black canvas harness held the arms together.

            – They look absolutely stunning. Thank you so much!

            – Try them on. Donning AE arms is a different process from your previous arms, Jim. You will have to use a dressing frame to hold the arms while you work your way into the sockets from below.

            – I have an assistant who can help me.

            – Then there is no immediate problem but I suggest that you have a dressing frame constructed in your bedroom, for example. The idea being that you dislodge your prostheses with the aid of two hooks on each side of the frame and your arms will hang there ready for the next morning when you can don the prostheses again without assistance.

            – Yes, I can see the sense in that. The hooks could just as easily be mounted on the wall, couldn’t they?

            – If they are long enough, yes. They would need to be about thirty centimetres long.

            – That’s what I’ll do. Now I am very impatient to get those beautiful arms on.

Alvarado held them behind Jim’s back and told him to raise his stumps. He lowered the sockets and arranged the harness across Jim’s back.

            – These work similarly to your former pair with one major exception. Or two. You can no longer stretch your arm to open the hook because you have nothing to stretch. So all hook movement must come from the shoulder. Try it.

Jim shrugged his left shoulder. The right hook opened.

            – That is the only voluntary movement you can make to operate the prostheses. To lift the elbow, you must shrug your shoulder in exactly the same way. The way you determine which function you want is to lift your stump out to the side. Imagine that you are nudging someone. That engages the elbow mechanism. Try it.

Jim nudged an unseen companion and shrugged his left shoulder. The right forearm rose to a ninety degree angle.

            – Now another nudge will disengage the elbow. The next time you shrug, the hook will open. Try it.

Jim nudged and shrugged. The hook opened with the arm at ninety degrees.

            – And that is how they operate. Well done, Jim. Now you simply need to practise. The angle at which the forearm stops is selected by raising it and holding it still for a second. It will then drop to the closest lockable position. There are eleven lockable positions for the forearm. Raise it and wait. Disengage elbow. Operate hook. Do you understand?

            – Yes I do.

            – There is nothing more to teach you. You understand the theory. Now you need to learn the practice. How do you like the look of your arms?

            – Utterly stunning. Thank you very much, Dr Alvarado.

            – Thank you, Jim. I suspect we shall not meet again for a while. I wish you luck and success with your prostheses.

            – Goodbye.

Chris was waiting in the lobby for Jim to return and his mouth dropped open when Jim returned with two steel arms.

            – Oh man! You look fantastic!

            – Let’s go, Chris. Everyone is staring.

 

Brenton inspected Guy’s torso stump. He compared the sites of the amputations and could see no significant difference which would affect the use of a torso socket. He was satisfied.

            – Guy, how are you feeling?

            – I am OK. I want to sit.

            – I am sorry but you have nothing to sit with. Don’t worry. You will soon get a socket and you can sit up.

            – Yes. I hope so. I have an appointment next week.

            – Good. Shall we go? There is nothing more to do here.

            – Yes, let’s go. I want to be with my friends.

            – Of course you do. Let me collect the car and I will fetch you.

 

Brenton had been thinking about how extremely suggestible the group of young men seemed. They were all a little older than himself but trusted him and his student friends implicitly with their bodies. They had helped generate so much new material for their dark web site that income was assured for many years. He made a quick estimate. Of the four friends, there were still three legs and four arms, including two on Guy.

            – Guy, just before I go, can I ask you something? Will you want your arms amputated?

            – Yes, I think so.

            – Good, fine. I will take you home now to recover. And we will do the new amputations later. OK?

            – OK.

            – I’ll get the car.

Not being a greedy man, and having already netted a superb online profit from the group, Brenton decided to make an offer they would not be able to resist. Free amputations for the next two weeks when Menard Senior and wife would return. Probably. Two weeks to amputate Jim’s two legs, Tom’s leg, Ellis’s and Guy’s arms. Could it be done? Could they produce four limbless torsos in that time? Would their viewing clients want to see so many similar amputations? Maybe they could plan a video production featuring the amputees functioning as they were. Tom had already agreed to. He carried Guy to the Audi and laid him on the back seat.

            – I hope you are comfortable, Guy. It won’t be long until you are home again. Here we go.

 

Brenton carried Guy into Riverside 7 and returned to his car to fetch the superfluous wheelchair. He stood in the entrance to the loft and made his announcement.

            – My team and I have decided that if any of you require or desire further amputations, we will undertake them for free during the next two weeks, after which we shall no longer have access to the facility. If anyone wants further revision, now is the time.

            – Do you mean we could return with you now?

            – I do indeed, Ellis.

The others looked at each other in amazement. Guy had not understood everything, not being able to see the others’ faces from his prone position on a sofa.

            – Well, let me get some stuff in a bag and I’ll come with you now, if that’s OK.

            – Conference tomorrow, Ellis. What are we going to say?

            – Tell them septic shock. That will keep the chief quiet.

            – Right.

            – Might I say Jim that your arms are superb. I have never seen such an impressive display of prosthetic limbs. You must be very proud of them.

            – Yes, I am. I am very pleased with both my amputations and my new arms.

            – OK, I’m ready. Let’s go!

            – What are you having done, Ellis?

            – Wait and see!

            – Well, I bid you a good evening. Ellis, let us be on our way.

 

Twelve hours later, Ellis had a new long above elbow right stump and a new long below elbow left stump in addition to his healed torso stump.

            – You’re healing well, Ellis. It’s good to have you here with us again. Would you like some breakfast? Jame will take over now.

            – Thank you, Brenton.

            – Don’t mention it.

 

They had two hours of material from Ellis’s latest amputations. Above elbow amputations were their second most popular videos, followed only by the most popular of all, above knee amputations. Brenton estimated an income of sixty thousand for the first year from Ellis’s arm amputations. There would be two different video productions, rather than only one showing a double amputation. Clients, viewers, would have no idea they were paying to see the same amputee redefined. Ellis’s arms were no more, incinerated. He was a double arm amputee in a torso shell. Little more could be extracted from him. Guy might be next. There already seemed to be competition between Guy and Ellis over who was more disabled. Ellis had short peg legs for his torso socket. It would be interesting to see what Guy’s new socket was equipped with.

 

            – Ellis, might it not be a good idea to contact your prosthetist and inform him of your need for prosthetic arms?

            – I suppose so. I don’t know the name of the arm guy, though. Can you message Jim to ask who made his arms?

            – Do you mean Jim Dickinson?

            – Yes.

            – I’ll message him to ask the name of his prosthetist right now.

Five minutes later Jim provided the information.

            – A man called Dr Liam Alvorado makes the prosthetic arms. I have his number. Would you like me to ask him for an appointment?

            – Yes, please. I am a little inconvenienced at the moment.

            – Yes, you are. Let’s see what he answers.

Alvarado took his time replying. Two hours passed before he announced free casting time on wednesday afternoon 14:00.

            – Wednesday at two. We had better get your stumps in shape before then, Ellis. Another day of electrolysis. I’m sorry, I know it hurts but it’s the only option.

            – I’m OK. Felt worse.

            – Yes, I would imagine so.

 

The video conference went differently than was planned. Ellis was missing, Guy could not sit, so Jim and Tom faced the chief and explained the situation.

            – We realise that we have been away for some time but we have actually worked and uploaded code for the others to incorporate, so you can’t claim we’ve been totally useless.

            – You have indeed, but we want you here. The whole team ought to be present for optimal co-operation and synchronisation.

            – I have a suggestion. If we invested in a server which we could connect to the one at Antex, we could work from home and be as productive as before. It’s only the Antex policy of wanting everyone to be physically present which is causing the problem.

            – Yes, I know what you mean, Jim. What are you wearing on your arms, if I might ask?

            – These are my new arms. Steel, you know.

            – I’ll be dipped in shit. Never seen anything like it before. Well look, I’ll have to report to the boss that we have four fine programmers who are unable to be physically present and he either lets all of you go or finally agrees to let you work from home. I’ll get back to you. How are you doing, anyway? Jim, you had sepsis, I heard.

            – Yes, but it’s been taken care of, although I lost more of my stumps.

            – That’s too bad. Good to know you’re on the mend. I’ll get back to you. Bye!

 

            – Well, that was easy.

 

Jim phoned his carpenter mate and asked if he could do a bit of handiwork over the weekend. He wanted another climbing frame built in the living space and some kind of framework built for himself in his bedroom. He had different arms now and would show them what he needed when they came.

 

Guy was on his bed. It was the only place he could be comfortable. Chris was attentive and poked his head around the doorway every half hour to ask if there was anything he could do. Once or twice he carried Guy to the wc. Guy had to wait another day to be casted and a further week to get his shell. Guy had worked out that with two above arm stumps, he would be able to move around if his torso socket had a central peg leg. Perhaps thirty, perhaps forty centimetres long. Suitable peg arms to provide the tripod formation necessary for mobility. If the peg arms were made to accommodate his prosthetic arms, he would be as active as before. His life would be the same, always on crutches. But now with hooks and a peg leg. He turned over onto his belly and masturbated into his duvet.

 

Tom sat facing Jim in the kitchen. They had brewed some coffee and were feeling very proud of their prowess with hooks.

            – Are you having any more amputations, Jim? Now that they’re free.

            – I don’t think so, mate. I want to be able to walk around to show off my arms. If I was in a wheelchair or on crutches, it would have less impact. But me turning up anywhere and taking my jacket off to reveal my steely arms – that has impact. And if I can only learn to use the fucking things, I’ll always be the star of the show everywhere.

            – Yeah, your arms look incredible. I like these old ones, all black and shiny but I have to say that your new ones take the cake. I’d love a pair like that.

            – You’ll have to ask Alvarado if he can make you a pair. You only need the sockets, not the whole prosthesis. The hooks are easy enough to move over.

            – How do you feel now, Jim? Short stumps and all that.

            – These arms feel like dead weight. It take a lot of mental effort to test what I will move, the hooks or the elbows, and then I have to change if necessary. Then I have to lift my arm into a position where the hooks can be useful. It’s a fucking load of disabled disability and as long as we have Chris as back-up, I’m loving it! Those hooks you’re wearing are a breeze compared to these. How do they fit you, by the way? Comfortable?

            – Yes, they’re comfortable. We stuck a thin layer of foam plastic inside the sockets – that white stuff, you know, some kind of foam. And it grips my stumps really tightly. It feels warm and if it gets sweaty, it can be washed clean without even taking it out of the socket.

            – I’m glad you appreciate them, Tom. You look really good wearing them. You’re a smart dresser anyway. Lots of nice clothes. A pair of hooks sticking out of a nice shirt and your peg leg  – you’ll attract admirers like no-one else I know!

            – You know, Jim, since we’ve been sharing a bed, I’ve started to appreciate you more and more. I may be falling in love with you. You are such a masculine man. I am a homosexual because I like men. Don’t let on but I think you are the only man here. I want to be with you and feel your strength.

            – Tom, I don’t know what to say except I’ve always fancied you. I’m glad I can be with you.

Tom slipped off his chair and wrapped his prosthetic arms around Jim and kissed his neck.

 

Friday. Brenton carried Ellis in his torso socket to his Audi and tied the seat belt around his body. His short crutches were in the back seat. They would be of no use to Ellis now.

            – Comfortable, Ellis? I’ll take you home and carry you in, unless your assistant comes to help you.

            – I dare say it might be better if you came upstairs to the loft. I have a feeling Guy might be wanting a return journey. I know he has been thinking about having his hands off. I don’t know if he will have made his mind up.

            – Now is his big chance. We have to shut up shop next week, so this is his last opportunity.

            – It’s so difficult to read Guy. We all love him dearly but it seems like none of us really know him.

 

Chris came downstairs to take Ellis back upstairs.

            – Hello Brenton, Ellis. Can you manage? Let’s go up. Had a good stay, Ellis? Looks like you might need a hook or two.

            – I wonder if the pretender hooks would be any good?

            – I don’t suppose so, Ellis. They will be far too loose.

            – What are pretender hooks?

            – They’re sockets you can put your fist into with a hook on the end. There’s a pair knocking around somewhere. Tom bought them.

            – You’ll need custom fitting sockets, Ellis. I hope you can soon get a new pair of arms.

            – Yes, so do I.

Brenton carried Ellis to the sofa and sat him upright.

            – Are there any more volunteers?

Guy raised an arm.

            – So soon, Guy? Have you not achieved your ideal?

            – Arms off. Like Ellis. My bag is by the door. I am ready.

            – Then let’s go, Guy. Shall I carry you?

            – Yes please.

Brenton carried Guy’s rucksack and its owner in his arms. Tom opened the door for him, twisting the lock awkwardly with his whole body.

 

He returned to the sofa.

            – I just thought. Guy had an appointment for Wednesday for a new casting. We ought to cancel it. We don’t want to play them up. Nagy and Alvarado are far too useful to keep as friends. We should try to stay on their good sides.

            –  Yes. Can you message him?

            – Well, we’ll see, won’t we?

Tom plucked his phone out of his hoodie pocket and activated it. The tips of his hooks were conductive enough to operate the touch screen and slowly he typed a message cancelling Guy’s appointment. Nagy replied an hour later thank you.

Chris had made some supper in the kitchen. He bore in mind that his friends needed food they could grasp with hooks rather than something which needed cutlery. He had made fishburgers with thick chunks of salmon and brought four of them on a large plate.

            – Help yourselves, guys. I hope you like them. Ellis mate, I’ll help you, don’t worry.

Ellis waved his right above elbow stump in acknowledgment.

            – Er, I don’t know how to ask this really. You know those pretender arms that Tom bought? Are they still here?

            – Yes, they’re under my bed. Why do you ask? Would you like to try them, Chris?

            – Yes I would. Shall I get them? You won’t mind if I rummage under your bed, Jim?

            – Go right ahead.

Chris poked about in the dark room and saw a hook. He picked it up and pulled the whole prosthesis out from under the bed. Back at the sofa, he spread it out on the table and inspected it.

            – Is this OK? I don’t know if it’s the right way round or not.

Jim looked at it.

            – Looks OK to me. Next you need to get those harness rings over your shoulders. Pick them both up in your left hand and hold them up in front of you. Now put your right arm through the right loop. You need the sockets to be at your back. Now let the other loop drop over your left arm. Now feed your arms into the sockets. I’d like to help but I’ve got these hooks. Your left hand is in the right place. Go a little lower. OK! Push your arm into the socket. Now try to find the right cuff and do the same.

Chris worked his right arm into its socket and looked at his transformation. He had an obvious erection.

            – It looks like you’re enjoying that, mate. Shrug your shoulders a few times and the harness will settle properly.

            – So how do the hooks open?

            – Stretch out with your arm. And that is how that hook opens. Do the same with your left arm. Voilà!

            – But you guys don’t need to stretch your arms out all the time! There must be another way.

            – There is. Put your right hook in front of you, yes, like that. Now hold it there and shrug your left shoulder forward. See? You opened the hook. Try it with the other arm. Hold it there and shrug your right shoulder. See? Now you know everything there is to know about how to use a pair of hooks! Welcome to the gang, mate! Are you going to keep them on, or are you satisfied now?

            – Oh, I’m keeping these on for now, if that’s OK with you.

            – Be our guest. How do they make you feel?

            – I’ve got a boner.

            – Yeah, we saw that.

 

Three bilateral hook users and armless Ellis watched YouTube videos of an Arizona boot camp where legless young men climbed boulders and played tug-of-war wearing stubbies, some of which were so short that they were hardly credible.

            – Would you like to lose your legs, Jim?

            – No, I wouldn’t really. I want to be able to show my steel arms in public and impress people. I can’t really have the same impact from a wheelchair. How about you?

            – I’m keeping my leg. I like the peg leg plus hooks look.

            – You look great, Tom. Don’t ever change.

            – I’ll soon be joining the club.

            – Yes, you will, Ellis. You will have a difficult arm and an easy arm. If you have any questions you can ask me or Tom.

            – Ha! When are you being fitted, Ellis?

            – Next week. I can’t remember the day.

            – Well, you better sort it out, mate. You don’t want to piss off your prosthetist by missing an appointment.

            – How are you doing, Chris? Liking the looks of your arms?

            – They look so alien. I like it. Can I wear these again? I mean, none of you need them, do you? You all have your own, except Ellis.

            – Well, I suppose you can wear them if you want to. Actually, it might be a good idea for you to know what it means to use hooks. I have to say, you look impressive. Nice muscular body and then suddenly you see hooks instead of hands. Aargh! Shock horror!

            – I might wear these when I’m not helping you out. Or maybe even then!

            – Do what you like with them, Chris. I think we can say for all intents and purposes that you can regard them as your own. Wear them whenever you like.

            – Wow! Thank you!

 

Guy’s arms were amputated by eleven the next morning. Jame took them to the incinerator. Garret had departed from his usual habit of videoing the operation from a tripod. He captured Brenton’s handiwork with a hand-held camera, as close as possible without being a distraction. The new material would suffice for two video productions and, to all intents and purposes, might serve as training videos for medical students. So much new material! He was only just getting started on editing Ellis’s amputations.

 

Guy was awake by late afternoon. Judson had sat by him for two hours, admiring the handsome face with its fabulous moustache, looking over the handless torso and wondering what it might be like to lead a legless life wielding artificial arms. To be so reliant on technology. How lucky Guy was to be able to fulfil his desires and achieve the body he wanted in full knowledge that he would still be able to function as a useful member of society, working, paying taxes, voting.

            – Are you awake, Guy? How are you feeling?

No answer. Judson remembered that Guy was deaf and looked around for his hearing aids. He found them on the table and held them up, questioning Guy with raise eyebrows. Guy nodded. Judson gently fitted the aids into Guy’s ears.

            – Better now?

            – Yes, thank you. Can I have some water?

            – Of course. Let me help you sit.

Judson dragged the torso further up the pillow and raised the top end of the bed. He helped Guy sip some water. Guy lifted his bandaged arm stumps up and inspected them. They were the right length, it seemed. Slightly longer than mid-forearm. They might look good when they were fully healed. Quite phallic. Ellis had gone too far in getting an above elbow stump. Two below elbow jobbies were the way to go. He would ask Dr Alvarado for steel sockets like Jim had. They looked very impressive. First though, he would have to have his torso stump cast by Dr Nagy. He had an idea for his new socket. It would have an attachment in the middle of the base. He could borrow one of Ellis’s peg leg pylons and screw it into the base of his torso socket. Then he would be mobile with a pair of peg arms. Or perhaps it might be possible to adapt a pair of his old crutches to be held in his hooks. That would be better. Yes, he liked that image of himself. A smart jacket and pressed shorts with a short central steel peg leg and shortened crutches.

 

Guy’s arm stumps healed as quickly as his other amputations at Menard House. He wore shrinker bandages to help mould their shape and would do so until he had a pair of hooks. Brenton delivered him to Riverside 7 and carried him into the loft.

            – Hello everyone. I’ve brought your friend home. Hello, Ellis. I’m glad to see you back on your feet.

Ellis had discovered that his legless torso still fit perfectly into the torso socket with attached stubbies. He could not sit nor walk but Chris lifted him up and repositioned him wherever he wanted to be. Ideally Ellis would have a pair of peg arms to help him move around. Or perhaps he would do better in a wheelchair. He hated the idea of a chair.

            – There are only four days left, gentlemen. We have received confirmation that the owners of Menard House will soon be home after their sojourn in Switzerland. Before they arrive, we can accept one more volunteer.

Jim looked around at his friends. No-one had hands. Two of them were completely legless. Chris looked apprehensive.

            – Since I’ve been here, guys, I’ve seen that losing a limb isn’t such a big deal and I want to feel more like I’m one of you. I would really like to use a hook on my left arm. That’s all.

            – I knew this would happen when we gave you those pretender arms. Let’s have a quick vote. Who is prepared to let Chris disappear for a few days?

Two hooks and two stumps rose.

            – It’s unanimous. Chris, we will miss you but we wish you luck. Remember – we will still want you back as our capable assistant so don’t let Brenton chop all your limbs off.

            – Jim, how could you harbour such thoughts? Chris, how do you do. Are you ready?

            – I have a few things packed already just in case. They’re in my room. I’ll get them and then we can go.

            – Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure meeting and working with all of you. You have shown great creativity regarding the possibilities for the human body and what can be overcome regarding disability. I wish you well in the future and I bid you good night. Chris, let’s be on our way.

 

Chris was anxious in the car and Brenton noticed.

            – Don’t worry yourself, Chris. The amputation is painless, the recovery is fast and a prosthesis is only a week away. You have nothing to worry about.

            – Oh I know that. It’s just that I want a leg off too. I want to have a long peg leg like Tom has. He looks so handsome on a peg.

            – I’m sure you would too, Chris. You’re tall and quite good-looking. There’s no reason a thigh stump should slow you down. Will that be in addition to your arm amputation or instead of?

            – As well as.

            – It will be done, Chris. I know you want your left hand gone, but which leg?

            – Also the left.

            – Yes, that looks much better when both amputations are on the same side.

            – I’m just worried what the others will say when I rock up missing a leg. It’ll be weeks before I can get a peg.

            – Well, I don’t think they have the right to criticise you for transforming your body how you want. And it won’t take weeks before you’re on a peg. We’ll make an appointment with Dr Nagy immediately and he’ll have a socket made in a couple of days after you get back. A peg leg is much easier to fit than a prosthetic leg. No moving parts, of course.

            – And how long for the hook?

            – A week after casting, at most. Any competent prosthetist can create a hook prosthesis in a couple of days. It’s only the socket which needs any skill. The other parts just need to be assembled from stock.

            – You make it sound so simple.

            – It is simple. A forearm socket and a thigh socket, both of them straightforward to manufacture. Don’t worry, Chris. We’ll have your leg off in no time and you can be the man you want to be.

 

Four days later the double amputee returned home leaning on Brenton’s shoulder. He hopped into the loft and stood by the door.

            – Hello everyone! I’m back. Some of me, anyway.

Tom got to his foot.

            – Wait a minute, Chris. I’ll bring you a crutch.

He went into the alcove by his bedroom and pulled out an old wooden axillary crutch.

            – Here you are, mate. I have to say, this is a bit of a surprise. Are you going to get a peg too?

            – Yes. I want one exactly like yours, Tom.

            – Well, good on you. Come and sit down. Nice arm stump, too. Good shape on that.

 

Brenton looked at the group of five amputees and thought about what he had achieved. There was one whole arm and four full legs amongst the five of them. A more satisfied group of young amputees was difficult to imagine and the next million bucks would be in his bank account before the year was out. He wished them a pleasant evening and let himself out.

 

Brenton was exhilarated and drove a little faster than usual. Not having heard warnings on the radio of black ice, he accelerated his Audi into a spin and crashed through safety barriers, dropping fifteen metres into a brook. Both his arms were severed halfway between elbow and shoulder and he was trapped until rescued by medics alerted by other drivers who had witnessed the accident. His traumatic amputations resulted in stumps barely five centimetres long. Brenton’s career was over.

 

Guy made an appointment with Dr Nagy for the following Thursday. Chris had better luck with Alvarado. He had a casting on Tuesday morning. Tom accompanied him on the tram journey. Chris had been practising over the weekend with his crutch and was fairly adept at hopping about. Alvarado casted his shapely stump and took an order for a steel-coloured socket, if possible.

            – Oh, you like the look of that, do you? I find it surprising how few of my patients are willing to test it. They all prefer black sockets. Well, you will have a steel prosthesis by this time next week. May I ask if you have made an appointment for a leg? Assuming you wish to have a prosthetic leg, of course. You may prefer to use a crutch.

            – No, I haven’t made an appointment yet. I’m not sure who to get in touch with.

            – Dr Nagy is the leg man. He works just down the corridor here.

            – I only want a peg leg. Like my friend Tom Pearson, if you know him?

            – I do indeed. I made him a smart pair of prosthetic arms only a week or two ago. Yes, I remember. The young man with a peg leg. Most exotic! He walked very well on it, if I remember correctly.

            – Yes. Well, that’s what I want.

            – Let me call Nagy and he’ll book you in as soon as possible. Hello Julian, Liam here. I’m not interrupting anything, am I? Good. I have a young man here who needs a peg leg as soon as you can. AK, yes. Long stump. No, I’ve just casted him for a BE. Yes, I know. What, right away? Thank you, Julian. He’ll be right along. Mr Callup, Dr Nagy will see you immediately. Let me show you the way. Follow me.

 

Nagy raised a hand in greeting.

            – Come in, young man. You’ve got yourself rather banged up, haven’t you. Never mind, we’ll soon have you up and running round. What’s this I hear about a peg leg?

            – My good friend Tom Pearson wears a peg leg which I understand you made for him. I would like the exact same type of peg for myself. Just a rigid peg.

            – You young men these days are extraordinary. After a century and a half of progress since peg legs were the only option for working men, suddenly it’s fashionable to reject bionic knees and ankles and return to the trusty old ways. I can’t say I blame you. A peg won’t let you down and doesn’t need recharging every six hours or stop working in the rain. Get your pants off and let me see your stump. Oh, that’s a fine shape. You are very lucky. Right, let’s get started.

 

Nagy had Chris stand at a support and cast the stump. Chris enjoyed every moment of it. Before he met Ellis for the first time a couple of months back, he had known nothing about amputation or artificial limbs. He knew such things existed but could never have imagined getting his very own artificial limbs. Two of them! He would be walking as stylishly as Tom and would have a steel arm and hook like Jim. He was tremendously pleased with himself.

 

            – Very good. I’ll wash your stump and then you’re free to go, Chris. I estimate five working days at the most. What colour would you like the peg to be? You can have stainless steel or glossy black.

            – It would look cool if it was black, but my arm is going to look like steel so perhaps a steel peg leg would match.

            – It would indeed. So a steel peg. Well, thank you and goodbye for now. I’ll message as soon as I have something for you.

            – Goodbye, Dr Nagy.

Chris leant on his crutch and made his way out. Tom was still in the lobby waiting for him.

            – Thanks for waiting, man. I’m going to have a peg leg like yours. And an arm like Jim’s.

            – Well done, Chris. You’re one of us now. Let’s go home. There aren’t nearly enough amputees in here.

 

Last but not least, it was Guy’s turn to get a torso socket and artificial arms. He had thought about forgoing the arms after Chris had joined them, always ready to help and so understanding. Guy could be a monument to amputation. A rigid torso socket, stationary, immovable, with two arm stumps. He could be placed on the coffee table like a trophy and the other amputees whom he had inspired to amputate themselves could look at his torso and admire him. Although in reality, he was falling in lust with Ellis. He wanted to share his bed with Ellis every night. Their arm stumps would touch and explore the remnants of their bodies, genitals urgently seeking mutual contact. Ellis had always seemed the most affectionate toward him. Jim was brusque and had fallen in love with Tom. He would make Ellis fall in love with him.

 

Guy underwent the same procedure that Ellis had experienced the previous week. A new body socket was on the way and Guy had stipulated that the middle of the base should include an attachment into which a peg leg could be screwed. Nagy knew exactly what he meant and included the steel plate. Alvarado casted Guy’s below elbow stumps and also his entire remaining arms in order to make peg arms. Only one patient in his entire forty year experience had ever requested a peg arm and now someone wanted two of them. The world seemed to be going mad.

 

            – I’m getting my peg leg and arm tomorrow, guys. I’ll be of a bit more use around the place.

            – In one way, Chris, it’s been good that you’ve been off your feet. We’ve had to do more things for ourselves and learned more about how to use our limbs. I’m glad you’ll be back to your normal self, helping out around the place. I’m looking forward to having you back in the kitchen. You’re a better cook than any of us, two hands or not. You’ll be the only guy in here with a hand, do you realise that? Five guys, nine hooks. Two peg legs. Two legless body stumps. Are you still going to be able to take care of us with a peg and hook?

            – I’m pretty sure I will. I have Tom as an example of what’s possible. And he has both hands off. You like being a triple amputee, don’t you Tom?

            – I wouldn’t have it any other way, mate.

Jim shrugged his stumps, locked the elbows and pushed himself erect on his hooks.

            – Neither would I. Let’s get something to eat.

 

Antex Games had its greatest success with the zombie game which the Riverside 7 group had worked on before they began to disappear. The boss reviewed a spreadsheet printed for him to compare productivity figures of the disabled individuals with those of the former employees they had replaced. All of the new intake had proved their worth and were well worth keeping on, even if they now had physical problems in reaching the office every day.

            – Chief, come in here please. I want you to have a server installed at Riverside 7 synchronised with ours. It’s obvious that having those four working from home is better for us than having them travel here every day. I don’t care about insisting they be here. Also make sure that a permanent video connection is always available so we have mutual video contact at any time. They might be working remotely, but I want to be able to check that they are working.

            – Er, that’s illegal, sir.

            – Well, get it set up anyway. They can turn it off their end if they want.

            – I’ll get on to it right away.

 

The chief messaged Jim to inform him of the boss’s decision. He needed to know a suitable time to set up new work stations and a server connection. The amputees could hardly be expected to have work stations at home already. In theory, a dedicated work area was more productive than allowing employees at home to lounge on sofas with laptops. They would still be able to lounge around, but psychological surveys had shown dedicated work areas to be most productive and the presence of colleagues was encouraging.

 

Chris received a message inviting him to the clinic at ten the next morning. His peg leg had been finished and his artificial arm awaited. Both needed testing. He used his crutch to work his way to the tram stop and sat with pleasure on a hard plastic seat. Crutching was hard. But he was getting his peg at last. Chris with a peg leg! It was still incredible to think of himself as disabled but he would not be – he would have artificial limbs and not be disabled at all. The only way he would be disabled was if someone stole his prostheses.

Nagy received him first.

 

            – Good morning, Mr Callup. Come in please.

They shook hands.

            – I have your thigh socket ready for you try on. The pylon is also ready but may need slight adjustment. Sit here and we’ll start. This is your liner. Roll it onto your stump before you don the socket. It keeps the prosthesis on your leg. Now press the socket on as far as you can. Very good. Now let’s see if the pylon is the correct length. Raise your stump, please.

Nagy screwed the steel pylon into Chris’s thigh socket. It had a black rubber ferrule at its tip.

            – Stand up and let’s take a look. Put your weight on it. Do you feel any movement in the socket?

            – It feels secure.

            – Very well. Take a step forward on it. It is slightly longer than your other leg intentionally. Swing it out to the side as you walk rather than trying to bring it straight ahead. That’s very good. Turn around and come back. How does it feel?

            – Great! Very sturdy.

            – Well, I wish you luck with it. I am always available if you need any help or advice but you will find that a peg leg is so low maintenance that it may be a while before we meet again. Good bye, Chris. I understand you have an appointment with Alvarado next. His workshop is three doors down on the right.

Chris carefully made his way along the corridor and rapped on the door. Alvarado slid it open.

            – Ah, you’re ready! That didn’t take long, did it? Much quicker fitting a peg than an artificial leg with all its alignments and adjustments. Come in and you can try on your new arm. Take your jacket and shirt off. Keep your t-shirt on. I recommend that you always have something like a t-shirt or vest on to prevent chafing around the shoulder.

            – Is that mine? The steel one?

            – It is.

            – It looks incredible. So heavy and solid.

            – I assure you it is light and hollow. Try it on. Let me help.

            – No need, doctor. I’ve done this before.

            – Really? How extraordinary. Well, you seem to know what you are doing. How does the socket feel?

            – It’s so short.

Chris brought the hook up to his mouth. This was exactly what he had been missing with the pretender arms. He could feed himself with the new hook. Hold a cigar.

            – Yes, this is a fine fit. I’ll take it!

            – Just sign these papers and you can have it. You appear to know how to use it.

            – Yes, I do. And there are four other hook users at home who I can ask for advice.

            – You are a fortunate man. I admire the community you have at Riverside 7.

            – That’s kind of you to say so, doctor. May I leave now? Thank you for this and I will be in touch if I have any problems.

            – Good bye, Chris and good luck.

 

Chris strutted out on his new peg leg, finding its rhythm, learning its weight. He was wearing a hook in public for the first time. It looked superb. He felt grand.

 

Only Ellis was left limbless and helpless. His appointments with his prosthetists were a fortnight ahead. He had been unlucky in his timing. The time came and Ellis was fitted with a new black carbon torso socket which took into account his total absence of leg stumps and which boasted an impressive codpiece to cover the essential gap for his genitals. The socket incorporated a single thread in the centre of its base into which a pylon could be screwed and its two halves extended almost as far as Ellis’s armpits. Its base was flat and stable and if Ellis had still possessed his arms, he would have been able to scoot around on the socket. But Ellis had no arms, only stumps. Alvarado manufactured two black carbon prosthetic arms, the right arm fitting the above elbow stump and the left his below elbow stump.

 

            – I’m afraid you will find the right arm considerably more of a burden than the left. I assume you are right-handed? Yes? You are still right-handed without hands, of course. That’s the way your brain is wired. You may find yourself using the left prosthesis more than the right simply because it is easier to use. Nothing wrong with that. You may succeed in making a transition to left-handedness. Ellis, I don’t wish to appear brusque but I do not feel I need to spend time teaching you how to use your hooks. You have some skilful experts at home who will be only too glad to guide you and I will leave you in their very capable hands, so to speak.

 

Chris collected Ellis, carrying the rigid torso in his arms, taking care not to stumble on his peg. Chris had informed his insurance company that he was now an amputee and a garage in the next town had adapted the van to be operable by hand. There was a hook adaptor ring on the steering wheel. Chris placed Ellis on the ground. He unscrewed his own peg leg and hopped around to the driver’s side. He slid open the passenger side door, lifted his mate and secured his seat belt.

            – Are you comfortable, Ellis?

Ellis shrugged his hooks.

            – It feels just the same, Chris. Standing is the same as sitting for me. Being strapped in feels the same as not being strapped in.

            – Do you like your torso, Ellis?

            – It makes me more like Guy. I want to be with him so much. He has been such an example to all of us, inspired us and showed us how we can be who we need to be. I hope the two of us can be together. I love him so much.

Chris powered up the van and drove them home.

 

Guy woke up. He needed to urinate. He could either alert Chris to carry him to the wc or try peeing into their dedicated pee bottle, a re-purposed carafe. Ellis had his longer stump around Guy’s neck. There was nothing for it. He would have to awaken Ellis. Guy blew gently onto his bed mate’s eyes. Ellis shook his head and opened his eyes.

            – Good morning. Is it morning?

            – Yes it is and I want to pee. You must move yourself.

Ellis took his stump off Guy and used the elbow to shift himself away from Guy. Guy twisted himself onto his tummy and rotated his body so his penis hung over the edge of the bed and asked Ellis to check that the carafe was under it.

            – Yeah, it looks like you’re good to go.

Guy let his stream of piss flow and the carafe caught it as intended.

            – My turn. Shift up, matey. Tell me when I’m ready.

            – Bit more. Stop. OK.

Ellis urinated too and pushed himself onto his back.

            – Are you getting up? What’s the time?

            – Six thirty.

            – Oh, let’s get up then. Who’s first? Shall I help you first?

            – Yes.

Guy grasped the front section of his torso socket from beside the bed and placed it on the bed. He gripped the rear section and positioned it just beyond his genitals. Ellis held it in place as Guy worked his stumpless lower torso into it. He grasped the socket’s front part and their four arm stumps slotted it into position. Ellis forced the clamps closed and Guy could now stand. He slid himself off the bed and placed Ellis’s torso socket halves onto it. Ellis wriggled his way into the rear part and Guy helped him attach the front half. Ellis pushed himself off the bed into a standing position and kissed Guy.

            – Thank you for helping. Do you want pegs or hooks?

            – Pegs. We go to the kitchen.

Ellis held Guy’s peg arms steady as Guy shoved his stumps into the short hollow crutches. He found his own pair and inserted his stumps.

            – Chris can fetch the hooks. OK mate, let’s go.

They crutched slowly out of their bedroom pod and crossed the living space. Their glossy black torso sockets clunked with every step. After six months of practice, both legless torsos had become experts in using their peg arms to move around the loft. The only disadvantage was having to choose whether to walk or wear their hooks. It was an inconvenience. Occasionally they were able to drape the hooks around their necks and could swap their pegs for hooks themselves. When Chris was around, it was much more efficient to let him help them don their hooks.

 

Chris was awake. He was a light sleeper and heard the sound of the sockets. He hopped out of bed, donned his peg leg and strutted naked across to the kitchen.

            – Good morning you two! I thought I heard you. Guy, do you want your hearing aids?

            – Yes and bring the hooks.

            – Coming up.

Chris managed to hold Guy’s aids in his hand and picked up the prosthetic arms with his pinkie. He returned to the kitchen and lifted the arms onto the table. He fitted the aids into Guy’s ears.

            – How’s the volume? Need it changing?

            – This is OK.

            – Wait a minute while I go and put my hook on. Be right back.

He put a clean T-shirt on and donned his below elbow prosthesis. Now he would be able to get things done more easily. He detoured via the other bedroom and collected Ellis’s prostheses.

            – Here you are, Ellis. Can you wait a minute while I go to the bog? Are you OK, by the way?

            – Yes, we peed in the carafe.

            – Oh. I’ll empty it.

He strutted across to the wc.

            – What do you want for breakfast, Guy? Müesli? Toast?

            – Coffee and toast. What will you have?

            – If there are any croissants left, I’ll have two of those with cheese.

Chris returned.

            – Right let’s get coffee started.

Chris busied himself and turned back to the guys.

            – Let’s do your hooks. Ellis, you first. Lift your stumps up.

Chris fitted Ellis’s prosthetic arms onto the stumps and helped him seat the harness across his back.

            – Comfortable? OK. Guy, hold out your stumps, mate.

Chris got Guy ready. He stretched his arms out and tested the hooks.

            – All ready. Can you make toast, Chris?

            – Sure. What do you want, Ellis?

            – Any croissants left?

            – No, all gone.

            – Toast, then.

Jim appeared, without his prostheses.

            – Morning all. Is there any coffee?

            – Just brewing. Get your arms on and it’ll be ready.

            – Good show.

Jim wandered across to the wc, penis erect and ready for the day’s first piss. He went back to his bedroom and worked his way into his arm prostheses hanging on a dressing frame. He ducked under the harness and settled it across his shoulders. He tested the operation of his hooks and strode back to the kitchen, steel arms glinting in the early morning light from the window. Jim had adopted the habit of locking his right elbow at a ninety degree angle and keeping his left arm straight. It was more an affectation than a useful strategy but it displayed his spectacular metallic prostheses. After a doubtful few weeks soon after his second amputations, Jim had been depressed about his greater disability but he had learned to use his artificial arms and hooks fairly well over the past six months. It was fascinating for the other amputees to watch the unnatural shrugging and stretching Jim had to perform in order to operate his hooks. Only Ellis had another above elbow prosthesis on his right stump. Jim was able to feed himself but drinking from a glass or mug was still problematic. Chris sat next to him at breakfast and raised a mug to his lips.

 

Tom strutted in on his peg leg, fully kitted out. He scratched his stubble with a hook.

            – Morning, people. Any coffee left, Chris?

            – There might be a mugful left but it’s been sitting for twenty minutes. Shall I make some fresh? Who else wants another mug?

Three hooks rose.

            – Right. Tom, sit down, mate. What do you want to eat?

            – Bowl of müesli would be nice, please.

Chris handed Tom a spoon. He gripped it in a hook. All their cutlery had been adapted for use by hook users by adding thick tubular foam sheaths onto the handles. It spoiled the appearance of the cutlery but let the amputees feed themselves. Function over form. Chris put a bowl of müesli and milk in front of Tom.

            – Last day of work before the summer break, guys. What are we going to do with a month off? We could sit here every day and watch the sunrises. Or shall we go somewhere? Have ourselves a bit of a holiday?

            – Let’s fly to Rio!

            – See Naples and die!

            – Chris, are you allowed to transport more than two passengers in your van?

            – No, I’m not. Also, I can’t really imagine how Guy and Ellis could travel safely unless they were lying on a mattress in the back or something. Not the best way to see the world.

            – Let’s get today over with and we can have a look at travel plans this evening. Does everyone have a passport? Yes? So that opens up a few opportunities.

 

            – Are you two ready for your chairs? I’ll get them.

Chris carried four peg arms back to Guy’s and Ellis’s bedroom and collected their wheelchairs from their storage alcove. He pushed one and dragged the other near to the kitchen and locked the brakes. He collected Guy from the kitchen and placed him securely onto the wheelchair and tightened its safety belt. He repeated the process for Ellis.

            – Thanks, Chris.

They scooted back to their room, dressed in black hoodies and returned to the kitchen. Chris adjusted the safety belts and the guys were ready for the day. Neither bothered wearing anything resembling shorts. The black carbon shells both wore provided enough decency.

Breakfast was done and Chris helped both Tom and Jim put on a pair of cut-offs and T-shirts. He put on his favourite shorts and a clean hoody and strode back to the kitchen to clear the breakfast table.

 

At nine, everyone was at their workstations opposite the enormous window wall. Ellis and Guy were in wheelchairs, Tom had removed his peg leg and, like Jim, sat on a high stool. They were concluding the final phases of a virtual football game which had to be completed that day. Deadline five o’clock. They worked quietly, concentrating on the task at hand and allowed AI to check their code’s mutual compatibility. Two hours later, Jim announced that he believed they were finished. Guy nodded his agreement, Tom and Ellis both gave a prosthetic thumbs up by lifting a hook above their heads. Jim verified that their server had saved the latest version, made two copies in separate memory banks and released their video screen from the ceiling to act as a gigantic monitor.

            – Chris! Have you got a minute?

Chris walked over.

            – Is it ready? You’ve got it done already?

            – We think so. Will you give it a test run for us? Try to make as many errors and missteps as you can while you’re playing.

The four moved over to their recreation area and watched Chris start the game. He tried choosing twelve players for each team but the game accepted only eleven. He tried breaking every regulation he could think of and the game corrected all his errors. After twenty minutes, Jim declared the game fit for beta testing and uploaded it to Antex Game’s servers and called the chief.

            – Hi! Jim here. We’ve just played Soccer Shocker and I think it’s ready for beta testing. It’s on the server, version 0.9.7. Give it a run and let us know what you think.

            – Thanks Jim. Well done for beating the deadline!

 

            – Time for coffee, gentlemen!

            – Good idea, Chris. Can we have it here?

            – Sure.

Chris brought a tray holding mugs and sugar lumps.

            – So now we need to wait and hope that they’re satisfied. I think it’s a good game. Any football fan would enjoy creating his own teams and seeing how they fare playing against each other. It seems not to favour either team. I reckon we did a good job on that.

            – It would be fun to have our own version and program a few amputee players into the mix.

            – Ha! That would be great! We could do that. Keep it secret. I don’t know, though. Antex would kill us for altering code like that. We’d better not. Nothing’s stopping us from coding a new game from scratch though. How about cricket for amputees?

            – And Guy can be the stumps.

            – Oh, that’s cruel!

            – But right now, I feel like I wouldn’t mind turning off the server for four weeks and not have to think about it. I really need a break. A change of scenery would be nice. I’m beginning to get an idea too. It would be a lot of fun and wouldn’t cost a shitload.

            – And what might that be?

            – Let’s all get OpenRail tickets and join the Youth Hostel Association. We could travel the country, meet interesting new people and shock the fuck out of them.

Chris brought in the coffee.

            – Do they accept people our age? I thought Youth Hostels were for teenagers with acne.

            – No, I think the official age limit is thirty but I know a couple of trekkers who joined at thirty-five. I suppose they’re simply glad to have any patronage these days. Same goes for OpenRail.

            – It’ll be a bastard for Guy and Ellis though. Trains aren’t exactly wheelchair friendly.

            – We can get round that by choosing only accessible stations and accessible trains. The way I think about it is that if local people don’t want disabled custom by not providing us access, they can go without. We’ll take our money somewhere more welcoming.

            – And quite right too. Ask Chris if he wants to come.

            – Chris!

He strutted out of the kitchen with a rubber glove on his hand.

            – Present!

            – Would you fancy an OpenRail trip around the country staying in youth hostels starting, say, the end of next week? We want to go on holiday and we can’t leave you here on your own.

            – That sounds like fun. It’s still early in the season so there should be room for us if we book now.

            – Are youth hostels all that popular? We need to book beds?

            – Well, not with youngsters in this country but the Dutch, Swiss and Germans love that sort of communal thing. And wherever we go, people are going to be fascinated by our artificial limbs and willing to help. I think it’ll be fun, so count me in.

            – Great! I’m going to get onto it right after lunch.

            – OK. Talking of which, it should be here by now.

The buzzer sounded.

            – There it is.

Chris pegged across the loft and let the meal delivery guy in. Minutes later the aroma of nasi goreng and rice filled the place.

 

The boss himself messaged Jim after lunch. excellent product. delivered on time and in prime condition. i wish you an enjoyable four weeks holiday.

            – Seems like our holiday starts right now. The boss is pleased.

            – Thank the stars for that.

 

            – Let’s have a look at these youth hostels and how to join.

Jim connected his laptop to the screen and they all watched his searches and selections.

            – Oh, I never realised there are so many. And some of them are in cities. I always thought of them as being somewhere remote. Membership for one year is free. Can’t say fairer than that. There’s a pdf of all youth hostels. I could print that out – no, I’ll download it to my phone.

            – So what are we interested in? A tour of the country’s great cathedrals? Historical battlefields? I know what might be fun.

            – What’s that?

            – Find out where the country’s best pubs are. Say the top ten best pubs. And go there. You never know, there might be a battlefield with a cathedral nearby.

            – Ha! That’s a brilliant idea! Is everyone on board with that? A rail tour of the best pubs in the land. Yeah, I like the sound of that. Shall we do that? Start doing a bit of research and planning the route.

            – I’m going to organise the youth hostel memberships and get the rail cards. How long do we want? Four weeks, or fifteen days?

            – If there’s not much of a price difference, get the full month. I hate having to stick to a rigid timetable. Right, I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up if something exciting happens.

Jim walked across to his pod and let the dressing frame lift his arms off. He was asleep within minutes dreaming of quaffing beers from heavy litre steins with his mates, all of them with hands, all of them play-punching each other, gesticulating, having hands. Waving a waiter over with the wave of a hand. It was a good dream for forty minutes. He woke up and was a little surprised to see short stumps at his shoulders. He donned his steely arms again.

 

Chris was on the sofa scrolling through screens on his laptop.

            – Anything interesting?

            – I’ve been looking at which pubs have been voted the best of the year for the past few  years. There doesn’t seem to be a top ten list anywhere. Lots of them are up-country. I’ve never been north of the city ringroad – been south of it often enough, though.

            – We need to find which pubs have accessible stations nearby. Then we need to compare the stations with a list of accessible youth hostels. And after that, we need to find out if the trains are accessible.

            – I don’t mind lifting Guy and Ellis into a non-accessible train.

            – No, I know you don’t, but you shouldn’t need to. It’s two thousand and twenty-eight and time this country updated its railways into the twenty-first century. We shouldn’t patronise lines which don’t want to help us.

            – You’re quite right. Let’s see what we can come up with. I’m going to look at which routes go to the pubs, and then see if there are youth hostels nearby.

            – That might be a better way of doing it.

Jim sat back and watched Chris’s search results on the video display. Lots of images of pretty pubs, smiling landlords and tempting meals. Lots of them in tiny villages last served by rail eighty years ago.

            – Make sure all the pubs are more or less accessible, Chris. I want this to be a holiday for you too. I don’t want you to have to keep lifting Guy and Ellis about plus their chairs. I don’t mind pushing either of them and neither does Tom. Anyway, does it look like there’s a route taking shape? This is quite good fun, isn’t it? I don’t mind this sort of thing at all.

            – We seem to be spoilt for choice around here with nothing after that for two hundred miles.

            – Doesn’t matter. Take me to a decent pub!

            – Ha! What might the others like to do?

            – They’re taking a nap. Let sleeping amps lie. They can say yea or nay later on.

            – I just noticed that all these places we’ve looked at are on the east coast. Let’s see if there are any good city pubs in the old north-western towns. That might make a nice contrast.

            – Yes, it would. Country villages going north and city centres coming south.

            – How far north do you want to go?

            – If we cross the border we’ll have to take our passports and go through customs and all that faff. Let’s not bother this time.

            – Yeah, agreed. Look, there are some prize-winning pubs around this area but from about twenty years ago. Are they worth looking at?

            – They’re probably not in their prime but might be worth a look. If there’s a youth hostel nearby you could include one or two of them.

            – Our last stopover might be here. Then a train back home. If we took a slow train it would stop at our station, too. That would be handy.

            – Yes, it would. Let’s keep that bit. Chris, I need to pee.

            –OK, let’s go.

They crossed to the wc and Chris opened Jim’s fly. He pulled the penis out and let Jim cradle it in his right hook. Chris dabbed the urethra with a sheet of toilet paper and Jim pressed the flush mechanism with a hook. Chris encouraged the penis back into Jim’s underwear and washed his hand.

            – That’s the route roughly sorted. Shall we look at youth hostels now? Check that they’re not miles away and that they are accessible. I ought to get on to their HQ to get our applications in or whatever. They’ll probably need to send us membership cards.

            – OK, you do that. I’m getting supper ready.

            – You wouldn’t make us a cuppa, would you?

            – Right on it.

Jim’s tea and all other drinks were served in a straight-sided glass which he could grasp with a hook and which would not spill if his movements were less than smooth. There were a dozen such glasses in the cupboard and the other amputees had quickly come to appreciate their practicality. It might look odd to drink tea from a tall glass but it was the norm Chez Moignons. They could hardly burn their fingers.

            – It looks like we can print out our own memberships cards. They’ll send us the files.

            – Good. That was easy. How about the OpenRail cards?

            – Let’s have a look. Two week card is two fifty. A month is three fifty. We’ll get five of those.

            – Better check with the others first before you pay anything.

Tom, Guy and Ellis reappeared after an hour and Jim resumed talk about planning the trip.

            – Are you all OK with the cost of the ticket? Great! I’ll order five and you can pay me back later. Now we need to decide on the dates so I can check the timetables. I suggest we leave next Thursday. It’ll give us time to get settled before the weekend.

            – Suits me fine.

            – Same here.

            – What are we going to have to take with us? I don’t want to be carrying tons of sheets and blankets and cups and cutlery.

            – According to the web site, you can rent sheets in all the hostels but they suggest bringing the other things. Otherwise, take what you usually take on a trip – clean underwear and a T-shirt. We’re not going to be far from civilisation – we’ll be able to buy anything we forget. A few extra stump socks will come in useful so we don’t have to do laundry every evening.

            – Have you got a route worked out yet?

            – No. it all depends on accessibility, doesn’t it? We’ll have to pick the route we’d like and then check it’s all amp-friendly.

They drew up a route and approved it that evening. It would take seventeen days unless there were delays and it wasn’t more than an inconvenience if there were. Next day, they studied train timetables and made reservations for the first couple of hostels. Jim bought five OpenRail cards which they would collect from their local station on departure.

 

On Wednesday evening, they all packed rucksacks with shirts, shorts, pants, stump socks and phone chargers. Tom had a large scale map of the dales where there was the greatest concentration of prize-winning pubs and packed that. Guy’s and Ellis’s stuff would not all fit into the smaller bags which hung from the backs of their wheelchair seats so the extra was divided between the other three. They were all set and ready to leave the following morning at ten to catch their first outbound train at eleven fifteen.

 

T H E    J O U R N E Y

 

Jim made certain all electronics and power supplies were safely switched off, that the fridge and the refuse bin were empty. Tom wheeled Guy into the corridor and Chris took care of Ellis. Jim set the alarm system and locked the door. True to form, he raised his right forearm to its ninety degree position and locked it there. Guy and Ellis were wearing shorts for the first time in months. It looked more demure than just a T-shirt over their torso sockets. The legs were completely empty but they looked more acceptable. Both of them had protested that they could wheel themselves to the tram stop but as Tom pointed out, it was going to be a long day and there was no point in tiring themselves right at the outset. Tom and Chris took off their rucksacks and gave them to Guy and Ellis to hold on to. There was plenty of room on the front of their seats. The two peg leggers found they had to take shorter strides when pushing the wheelchairs. Tom was managing fine with his hooks.

 

The tram took them through the town centre to the station. Jim approached the ticket office.

            – Hello. My name is Jim Dickinson and I believe you have five OpenRail tickets for my group.

            – Let me check. When did you order them?

            – On Saturday.

            – Here they are. Can I see some ID please? From everyone.

            – Get your passports out, guys.

It took a couple of minutes to retrieve five passports from five rucksacks with four pairs of hooks. Chris collected them and handed them to the official. He checked the names and birth dates against those of the cards and forwarded the five plastic credit card-sized passes and their passports to Jim.

            – Chris, get these, will you? I can’t pick them up. Maybe if we tuck the cards into the passports they’ll be easier to handle.

They returned the passports and OpenRail cards to their back packs.

            – All set and ready. We still have forty minutes. Shall we get some coffee?

            – Could do.

Guy and Ellis wheeled themselves towards the station café. They ran their sockets along the tyres to propel themselves. It was easy on the flat even floor of the station. Jim, Chris and Tom followed. Several passengers watched their progress with surprised interest.

            – Hello!  We’d like five coffees please. Can we have them in glasses not paper mugs?

He lifted his hooks.

            – We always squash paper mugs. Can’t help it.

            – Why not? I’ll put them on a tray for you.

Jim paid and Chris carried the tray to a table.

            – Who wants sugar?

Chris dropped a couple of sugar cubes into four glasses and held out four wooden stirrers. Guy and Tom succeeded in grasping them at a practical angle and stirred everyone’s coffee. Everyone including Jim was able to drink from the glasses. Chris kept an eye on him in case it looked like he might need help but Jim had begun to master using his hooks over the past few weeks. He was learning the correct body postures and movements needed to operate his arms without needing to think about the process so much.

 

The group went outside onto the platform to wait for their train. It was a few minutes late. There was room for Ellis and Guy in their wheelchairs. Chris asked if they would prefer to sit on seats but they insisted they would be fine. Chris unscrewed the pylon of his peg leg and sat down opposite Tom who had rested his peg on Chris’s seat. It was not in his way.

            – Don’t forget that when you get off, mate. You might need it again.

            – Thanks for the reminder.

The journey took just over two hours to their first destination, an old university town. The youth hostel was in a seventeenth century building near the town centre. It had been gutted by fire in the nineteen sixties and restored to look like the original. Its interior was partly occupied by the youth hostel. It was a ten minute stroll from the station although it took the group twenty-five minutes. Part of the pavement was a surface of worn flagstones. Guy and Ellis had a precarious ride.

They checked in and Chris filled out all the registration cards. Only Tom had relearned to write with a pen in his hook but it was slow going. They hired sheets and towels and were escorted to a eight person room on the ground floor.

            – I don’t believe we will need to allocate the other beds tonight but be prepared to share if necessary.

            – Thank you.

They made their beds. Chris let the others have the lower bunks. The blankets were old but soft and clean.

            – Comfortable enough. Are you going to be OK up there, Chris? Don’t fall out in the middle of the night.

            – I don’t usually fall out of bed anyway. I’ll be alright.

            – What shall we do now? Go into town? The pub is open already and we can get something to eat there.

            – How far is it?

            – According to GeoMaps, it’s seven hundred metres from here.

            – That sounds fine. Shall we go?

The group left their bags in the room. They had no valuables except for their passport and travel cards. Chris handed them over to the concierge for safekeeping.

It was an unexpected uphill trek. Tom and Chris pushed Ellis’s and Guy’s wheelchairs. Jim had tried several times to help but his above elbow amputations were too high for him to produce the force necessary to push a wheelchair on any but the smoothest surface. And both the legless men could manage that themselves. Jim marched ahead, right arm at a right angle.

            – I think I can see it. The King’s Arms. Perfect for us. Founded in seventeen seventy. Has its own brewery. Voted best pub twice.

            – If there’s a beer garden, we could sit outside. It’s a nice afternoon.

There was a beer garden and they sat around a large circular table with a parasol.

            – I’ll get the first round. Shall we have one of their own brews to start with?

            – Yeah. Ask them to use straight-sided glasses, Tom. Can’t handle handles.

Tom entered the gloom of the interior. The bar tender greeted him.

            – Five of your own best ales, please. And can you use those glasses there with the straight sides? We have trouble lifting ordinary beer mugs. Would you put them on a tray, too?

            – Can you carry it yourself? Would you like me to carry it? Where are you, in the garden?

            – Yes. Thanks, that would be very kind of you.

            – Don’t mention it.

Tom paid with his debit card.

            – Do you have a menu?

            – Here you are.

Tom gripped it.

            – Right, please lead the way.

The young man with hooks for hands and a steel peg leg strode back to their table and sat, his peg jutting out horizontally. The bar tender placed a glass of ale in front of each of them. All except Jim managed to grasp a glass with a hook. He was having trouble disengaging his right elbow.

            – This bugger has got stuck, I think.

            – Does the other one work? Try it.

Jim shrugged his left prosthesis into action and succeeded in raising the elbow to a suitable angle. Chris moved his beer glass closer to his hook. Jim’s prostheses had very limited lateral movement. He grasped it in his left hook and raised it towards his face.

            – Cheers everyone!

            – Happy holidays!

It was a pleasant hoppy ale but as they all preferred lager, the next round was a local lager. It was excellent, and they ordered another. Tom had been studying the menu and was tempted by one or two meals but was put off by the exorbitant prices. The others thought it was a little early for dinner. Perhaps they could find a less upmarket eaterie nearby.

Chris took a close look at Jim’s right prosthesis. He could not see any obvious faults or signs of wear. Jim tried to lower the forearm a few more times and it finally dropped.

            – I think my harness is a bit loose. Maybe that’s the problem.

Chris came to the rescue, tightening the straps symmetrically across Jim’s shoulders.

            – Try now, mate.

The forearm rose and locked. It unlocked and dropped. Jim lifted it up to his face, locked it and opened the hook.

            – That fixed it! Thanks, Chris. Tom, can I look at that menu, mate?

He reached and took it in his right hook.

            – It seems to me that apart from these prices, all the food on here needs a knife and fork. I’d rather have something I can eat with hooks. Shall we find a pizza place?

            – Yeah, I’m fine with pizza.

Guy and Ellis announced they needed a leak. Chris and Tom released their seatbelts and lifted the guys by their armpits. They carried them both to the men’s room, removed their shorts and codpieces and held the men as they balanced on toilet seats. They both used the opportunity to urinate, first carefully setting the torsos safely onto the washstand. For the return journey, they gave their legless friends piggyback rides back to their wheelchairs.

            – OK, let’s go into town a bit further to see if they have a decent pizza place.

The town centre was fairly busy. The rush hour, such as it was, had started. The guys walked along in a single file, not wanting to block the pavement for other pedestrians. Tom caught sight of a tell-tale red, green and white awning on the other side of the road.

            – I think I can see a pizza joint over there, look. Shall we cross here?

            – Yeah, I think you’re right.

Luigi’s had a step outside its door but it was negotiated easily enough. One step was not a problem but several of them were. The pizzeria staff looked in astonishment at their new customers. One rushed over to clear chairs for the wheelchairs.

            – Good afternoon, gentlemen!

He took a laminated menu from the table and looked around in panic. He saw Chris’s flesh hand and gave the menu to him. 

            – Would you like something to drink?

            – Only water for me, please.

            – The same.

They all looked at the menu and decided on three quattro staggiones and two rusticas. The food arrived twenty minutes later, neatly sliced, and they ate it with their hooks. The cooks watched surreptitiously. The guys were well aware they were the centre of attention everywhere. Jim and Chris had deliberately chosen their simulated steel sockets in order to stand out even more. Four double arm amputees and a one-armed man was an unusual sight anywhere.

            – What shall we do after this? Go for another beer somewhere?

            – I’ll come for a drink but it won’t be beer. I don’t want a sore head tomorrow.

            – It’s a bit early to go back to the hostel. There’s not much to do there.

            – I think we’re supposed to mingle with the other guests and get to know interesting new people.

            – I can guess what the topic of discussion will be.

            – It’s only natural, Tom. People are curious.

            – Well, let’s have a drink somewhere and then we can go back.

They sorted out the bill, Tom and Chris reattached their peg legs and helped manoeuvre the wheelchairs out onto the street. The town’s market square appeared diagonally opposite and was sure to have a selection of pubs around it. Jim strolled along in front, hooks in his shorts pockets, steel arms glinting in the early evening light.

            – The square is covered in cobblestones, guys. We’ll have to walk around the perimeter. Let’s cross here.

There were two accessible pubs nearby. One had music playing loudly and the other appeared to favour a more relaxing atmosphere. Loud environments were torturous for Guy so they made their way through the open oaken door of the White Hart and settled into a vacant corner. Three bearded young men at a nearby table looked at them with interest for a few moments.

            – Das ist ganz unglaublich! Wir müssen mit ihnen reden. [Unbelievable. We have to talk to them.]

Chris took orders and order five lagers at the bar. One of the bearded men approached too.

            – Can you put the drinks on a tray, please?

            – Excuse me. I can help take your drinks. I see your problem. We are also having two amputees there.

            – Ah, well, thanks.

He took two lagers to their table.

            – Good evening. I am helping your friend.

They looked up in surprise and saw him walking back to fetch two more glasses. Chris brought his own over.

            – My name is Nikolas. My friends are amputees.

            – Thank you for helping, Nikolas. Why don’t you all join us?

            – Yes, I will ask them. Moment.

The other two bearded young men got up. One grasped his beer between two long arm stumps and the other limped over.

            – Good evening. I am Henri and this is Dario.

            – Hello! Do join us. Sit down. Where are you from?

            – We are from Switzerland. We meet at university in Zürich but we come from different places.

Chris introduced himself and the others.

            – As you see, we have lost our hands. That’s how we met. Henri, what is that on your stump?

Henri was wearing a short leather sheath which had an aluminium scoop along the underside. He demonstrated it by flexing his stump and opening the scoop a centimetre. It was enough to let him handle a credit card or pick up a sheet of paper.

            – That’s very interesting. I have never seen anything like that before.

            – It is a common thing for men who have no money for artificial arms. A tradition. Of course, I have prosthetic arms myself but now I am on holiday and I do not travel with my prostheses. My stumps are on holiday too. My friends will help me do things. This is good enough for holiday.

            – We all use hooks, as you can see. Are your hands bionic?

            – Yes, they are electric hands.

            – We like the body-operated hooks. No charging!

            – No charging, yes. That is why I did not want to wear the hands.

Henri picked up his beer between his stumps and took a swig.

            – How about you, Dario? Are you an amputee too?

            – Yes, I have a leg prosthesis here.

He slapped his left thigh.

            – I do not have a leg like yours, Chris. I don’t know how it is called in English.

            – It’s called a peg leg. Tom also has a peg leg. We have never worn a conventional artificial leg. We have been amputees only a few months.

            – Oh. I am an amputee since I was three years old. I do not remember being with two legs.

            – And my arm stumps are now ten years old. I was playing on the tramway.

            – That’s how I lost my arms too. Under a tram.

            – You have very beautiful prosthetic arms, Jim. And you Chris. Are they steel?

            – No, just carbon fibre but it is some new experimental stuff.

            – I see. Do you live here in this town?

            – No, we are from the south. We are on holiday. Today is our first day. We’re staying at the youth hostel.

            – Oh, that is also where we stay! We are in a room on the ground floor. Unfortunately only the top beds were free.

            – Er, do you remember the room number?

            – Three, I believe.

            – Ha! We have the other beds! That is our room.

            – How strange!

            – I think the concierge put us all together because we are amputees. We won’t frighten the other guests.

            – We must go back later and frighten them. There is a nice common room where you can make coffee.

            – OK. Let’s do that. One more beer and then we can go.

            – Good idea.

Conversation continued in much the same vein for another hour before they left the pub and made their way back to the hotel. Chris and Nikolas pushed Guy and Ellis, Tom chatted to Henri about life as a double below elbow amputee and Dario quizzed Jim about his elbow mechanisms. Fortunately the journey was on a gentle downward slope, considerably easier than the outbound walk into town.

 

It was after nine when they arrived back at the hostel. They greeted the concierge and returned to their room. Nikolas walked down the corridor to see if there were any other guests already in the common room. A group of young women cackled amongst themselves and ignored him. Another low sofa and a nearby table with four straight chairs were free. He returned to their room and explained the situation.

            – We could give the girls something to talk about.

            – We can make coffee. Do you have cups?

            – Yes, but we didn’t bring any coffee.

            – Ach, we will drink this.

He threw a half kilo packet of coffee into the air and caught it. They made their way along to the common room in their diverse ways and occupied the remaining space. Chris and Tom sat on the low sofa, their peg legs pointing jauntily into the air. Guy and Ellis blocked the women’s line of sight and the two double arm amputees sat on high-backed chairs. Nikolas busied himself with studying the hostel’s coffee machine. Chris took short video clips of the group.  Dario had changed out of his long jeans and wore football shorts. He was explaining his mechanical knee mechanism to Chris. It was a recent Japanese design which ingeniously pushed the geometries of force, torque and resistance to new mathematical heights. It contained no parts which could not be printed. As its popularity grew, it would sound the death knell for old technology C-legs.

            – You have a very short stump, don’t you, Dario?

Chris had noticed that Dario’s prosthesis included another pylon extending upwards from his knee.

            – I have about ten centimetres of stump. I wear a belt.

            – How did you lose your leg?

            – Krebs – what’s that?

            – Cancer.

            – Of course, my parents were very worried about me but the cancer was gone and I was using well crutches and a leg made of plaître de Paris. I had a new such leg every month until I started school. My parents could see that I was not thinking I am disabled. I was playing football with my friends and being like everyone else. But then I went to school and I had a real prosthesis with steel pylons. Every six months they changed the pylons as I became taller. And a new socket every year. Now I am hundred and ninety-five tall and I have very long pylons but they don’t need to be changed now.

            – Would you like to use a peg leg like mine?

            – Yes I would but, you see, Chris, it would be very long. Perhaps it could have a knee, or two knees, so it could fit into a small space. I have seen a long peg leg that folds into three parts. Yours has no knee, I think.

            – No, this is a very traditional design.

            – You like it?

            – Yes, I do. I can unscrew the pylon – like this.

            – Ach, that is a good idea. No need for a knee.

 

Jim and Henri were admiring each other’s arms. Henri wanted a pair of hooks if he could also have steely sockets. He said his bionic hands were OK for about five hours, then they needed recharging for two hours. They could not lift anything heavy – even a pile of uni books was enough to break the fingers. And they cost thousands of franken. He said he intended to order a pair of hooks as soon as he got back. Although he knew the prosthetist would be against it. Not enough profit in hooks. He would insist.

 

Jim loved the phallic appearance of Henri’s long forearm stumps and the highly unusual leather device he wore on his right stump.

            – You can write with that, can’t you?

            – Oh yes. I can write with my bionics too but at uni I wear this when I am taking notes. Of course I write everything on my computer so then I wear the bionic. Can you write, Jim?

            – No. I have been an amputee for only about a year. First I had stumps like yours, perhaps a little shorter. But my arms were re-amputated and now I have very short stumps and very long prostheses. But I can not write yet. I do all my work on a computer and I use voice input.

            – That’s too bad. It is difficult to use such arms with a mechanical elbow, I think.

            – Yes, it was difficult at the beginning but I am finding it easier now. We have a very good assistant at my home who helps me dress in the morning. But I am becoming more independent.

            – It is good. Dario sometimes helps me too.

            – Are you together? A couple?

            – Oh yes, we have been lovers for many years.

            – So you’re gay? Homosexual?

            – Oh yes.

            – And so are we! We all live in my loft.

            – What is loft?

            – A very big apartment in an old factory warehouse.

            – It is very cool, I think, to have so many amputees help each other. A good life.

 

They drank their coffee, compared their artificial limbs and discussed their studies and jobs. All three Swiss boys were at medical school and all of them intended to become prosthetists. At eleven, they retired to their room, shucked their prosthetic limbs and body sockets and settled down for the night. The beer had worked its magic and they slept like proverbial innocents.

 

The Swiss boys were awake before seven but dared not awaken their friends. Guy was the first to wake up.

            – Guten morgen, Guy. Guy?

Nikolas remembered Guy was deaf. Where were his aids? He climbed down carefully so as not to disturb Jim. Jim’s arms were strewn along the floor. Guy found his aids from beneath his pillow and Nikolas fitted them in his ears.

            – Good morning, Nikolas. What time is it?

            – Six fifty.

            – OK. Time to get up. Would you like to help me?

            – Yes, I would.

 

            – How can I help?

            – I need the toilet. I need the socket first. Put that part on the bed. Now lift me into it.

Guy wriggled around to settle his body into the correct position.

            – Next put the top on. You see how it is closed?

            – Like on ski boots. Yes, I know this system.

            – And so now we can go to the toilet. You must take off my codpiece.

            – What is codpiece?

            – In front of my penis.

            – Oh, I see. That looks interesting!

            – You can carry me or I can go in the chair.

            – I will take you. Arms up!

Nikolas picked Guy up in one of his muscular arms and hugged his carbon body. Guy felt taller than he had ever been before.

            – Now just hold me while I piss. OK, ready. Put the codpiece on please and put me on the floor. I will wait for you.

Two Arab lads entered and looked in amazement at the black torso with the fabulous moustache. Guy used his arm stumps to try to shift his torso slightly inside the socket.

            – Guy, let me wash your face.

            – OK. Thank you, Nikolas.

They returned in the same manner to their room.

            – Chair?

            – Yes, please. And arms.

Nikolas collected Guy’s arm prostheses and held them as Guy inserted his stumps. He gently lifted the harness over Guy’s head. Guy shrugged them into position.

            – One thing, Nikolas. My seat belt. Or I will fall out.

            – Of course.

Nikolas gathered the ends together and fixed them. On impulse, he leant down and kissed Guy’s handsome face.

            – I will never forget you.

 

Everyone was soon awake, dressed, washed and other necessities taken care of. The youth hostel provided a basic breakfast buffet – coffee, tea, croissants, rolls, sliced ham, cheese. They were easy to hold with hooks or between long stumps.

            – What are you going to do today, Nikolas?

            – We look around the town more and see the university. And I think we try the beer in The King’s Arms pub. What will you do?

            – We continue our journey.

            – Oh, so soon?

            – Yes. We are going to the next pub. It’s another train journey. We will leave here about ten o’clock and go to the station.

            – We will come with you to help carry your stuff.

            – That would be very kind.

 

The next train was a fairly new unit on a local stopping service. There was plenty of room for the chairs and their luggage. The wheelchair accessible toilet was a welcome sight. A hundred minutes later, the train arrived at their destination, a small town mainly famous for having been the setting for a fictional television series. The youth hostel was a converted farm house built of local flint in its own grounds, half a kilometre from the station. They would have to wait nearly an hour before it reopened its doors to guests. They made their leisurely way towards it. The weather was fine so waiting outside the hostel would be pleasant enough. As the group approached, they could see a few other early birds sitting on benches or the lawn, watching them with interest. One tousle-headed young man sat on his back pack smoking a pipe, observing the arrival of two men wearing peg legs with keen interest. He himself was wearing bilateral below knee prostheses and had brought two simple pylons as spares. They converted his prostheses into peg legs.

 

Chris collected everyone’s Youth Hostel membership cards and their passports in readiness for registration. He would have to fill out everyone’s registration cards again. He really should learn everyone’s birthdays and places of birth. It would make things a little easier. He thumbed through the passports and realised that Jim and Ellis shared the same date of birth, just different years. How had he not noticed before?

            – Hey, Jim! Did you know you have the same birthday as Ellis?

            – Yeah, I saw that when I registered him as a permanent resident in the loft.

            – Oh. Quite a coincidence though, don’t you think?

            – It’s more unusual for there to be two bilateral arm amputees sharing the same address, though.

            – Ha!  Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Don’t look now but that guy with the pipe by the door can’t keep his eyes off us. But he doesn’t look like a devotee to me. And there’s something about the way he’s sitting which makes me think his legs are artificial. Look at the way his feet stick out.

            – Mmm, yeah, I see what you mean. He might just have leg braces.

            – Yeah, could be. We’ll have to ask him. Don’t you think we’re running into a lot of amputees on this trip?

            – It’s because we’re amputees ourselves. We know the tell-tale signs, the slightly odd way of walking, the clatter of steel hooks, the clank of a wooden leg.

            – Stop it!

            – Hey, it’s only natural that other amps notice us. I think he’s an amp. Go and ask him, I dare you!

            – I can’t do that!

            – Of course you can. Go on. He’s still watching us.

Laughing with nerves, Chris went across to the man.

            – Hello! Excuse me for asking, but my friend wants to know if you are an amputee. Is that why you are looking at us?

            – Oui, I am amputee. Two legs are protèses.

            – Oh, that’s wonderful – I mean, what a strange thing.

            – I understand it is wonderful. I think it is wonderful too. I ‘ope we will talk later.

            – I hope so too.

Chris turned and walked back to the group.

            – He’s a bilateral.

            – Knew it. Shall we adopt him?

            – Ha! What an odd way of putting it. Yes, fine by me. He speaks English with a bit of French. Still, he might be waiting for someone.

            – And we shall see how many limbs they have.

 

The hostel doors were opened and a friendly spaniel dashed out, racing around all the waiting guests and back inside. Guests picked up their possessions and entered the lobby, with a low step to the interior from the yard. The interior floor was flagstone, the walls white with outcrops of flint. A group of four armchairs surrounding a circular table looked out onto the yard. It promised to be a pleasant, well kept hostel. Jim noticed that the pipe-smoking bilateral was slightly ahead of them in the queue to register. Maybe they would all be in the same dormitory and could chat then.

 

Chris negotiated with the concierge and pointed out his group, handed over the passports and received registration cards to complete. He took them over to the table where the bilateral was sitting, puzzling over obscure details.

            – Hello again. Are you having problems?

            – Bonjour! Oui, I do not understand this. Next destination. Reason for visit. Why they want to know these things? I know what it means. What shall I write for raison?

            – Just write tourism.

            – But there is nothing to see here!

            – Yes there is! A very good pub. Tell them you are visiting a very good pub. No-one ever reads these cards. They go to the police every day and the police put them in a great big box for five years. Then they throw them away.

            – D’accord.

            – Why are you here if there is nothing to see?

            – My friends will arrive. This station is comment a dire? - crossroads.

            – And are your friends amputees like us?

            – Bien sur! Of course we are amputees. Who does not want amputee friends when you are an amputee?

            – Oh my dizzy aunt.

 

They both took their cards back to the counter and received a pile of clean sheets. They would all be together in the same dormitory. They walked and wheeled along to it and found it to be a large room with sixteen beds, not bunks, arranged into four groups of four divided by tall closets. They made up their beds and sat on them looking at each other.

            – What time are your friends coming?

            – À quelle heure? Ah, before six hours.

            – I don’t know your name. I am Jim Dickinson. These are my friends Guy and Ellis in the wheelchairs, and Tom and Chris with the peg legs.

            – I am Dominic Lefevre, ou on va dire Dom.

            – Dom. It’s good to meet you, Dom.

            – I also have peg legs. It means pylons, yes?

            – Pee-long? We say it pylons. Peg legs. You have peg legs? Now?

            – Oui. I can show you. Attends.

He opened his rucksack and extracted two short pylons terminating in black rubber ferrules. He pulled up the legs of his jeans and used an Allen key to release his lower legs and trainers from the sockets. He screwed the pylons in and stretched his peg legs out.

            – Voilà! Peg legs!

            – Can you walk on them?

            – Naturellement. Two peg legs is very easy.

He pushed himself up and stood on his pegs. He had to move a little to maintain his balance but it was an admirable demonstration of an amputee’s determination to beat his disability. The others applauded him.

            – I use also this. Un moment.

He delved into his back pack again and pulled out a collapsible walking stick. It sprang into its full length and Dom leant on it.

            – Now I can go anywhere.

            – Would you like to come with us tonight to a very good pub?

            – Oui. I would like to know you better. With my friends. I must wait first for them.

            – Yes. We will all wait for them. What do you do, Dom? What is your job?

Dom removed the pegs and reattached his prosthetic lower legs.

            – I drive a railway train. And what do you do? I think you are colleagues.

            – Yes, we are. We are programmers for a games company. We make computer games.

            – And so you can do it with these bras artificiels. How you say it?

            – Hooks? This is a hook, Dom. I have two. Ellis has two. Guy has two. Tom has two and a peg leg. And Chris has one and a peg leg.

            – My friends have hooks and jambes artificiels. You will see. We have reserved the beds here. They will come and you will see them.

            – I hope so.

 

They took the opportunity to nap for half an hour or so before the evening’s outing.

 

It was quite a trek into the town, about an old mile. Short of ordering a bus, they could think of no way other than to walk.

            – I wonder if there any local buses which would take us into town? I’ll ask the concierge.

Tom wandered back to the lobby.

            – Yes, there are buses between Camton and Uxbury which run until midnight. Only once an hour, mind. Where are you going tonight?

            – Just into town to visit the Hind’s Head.

            – Oh, very nice. I wish I was coming with you. Let’s see. There are buses into town at seventeen twenty, eighteen twenty and so on and coming back at twenty-one thirty-five, twenty-two thirty-five and twenty-three thirty-five. Don’t miss that. The bus station is right behind the town square and that’s where the Hind’s Head is.

            – Are the buses wheelchair accessible?

            – Well, I don’t know for sure but I should think so. There is an old peoples’ home in Uxbury and they go into town every Friday afternoon for tea and cakes. If it couldn’t take wheelchairs, they wouldn’t be able to go, would they?

            – I suppose not. Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.

            – Oh, and the stop is about a hundred metres to the right when you go out onto the road. May I say, I have never seen anyone with such remarkably beautiful artificial arms? They look like works of art.

            – Thank you for saying so!

 

Life was beginning to resume in the dormitory. Dominic and Tom were deep in conversation in two easy chairs by the window, both displaying their stumps. Ellis and Guy were awake and indulged in what looked like foreplay until you realised they could feel absolutely nothing inside their shells. Or could they?

            – There’s one bus an hour into town and one bus an hour back. Let’s wait until Dom’s mates get here and then we can all go in together. Agreed?

            – Sounds fine to me. I’m getting hungry. What sort of grub do they do?

            – Let’s have a look. Oh, lots of steaks and beefy stuff for thirty-five a plate.

            – Not paying that.

            – Fish and chips for twenty.

            – That sounds more like it. What’s their claim to fame? What did they win a prize for?

            – Hospitality, accessibility and geniality it says here. Well, you can’t say no to that. I wish Dom’s mates would get here soon and we can start making tracks. I’m starving.

 

The group of six French amputees had used the bus service from the station. At sixteen forty-five, a group of five gesticulating Frenchmen, some wearing hooks and most of them displaying the gait of an amputee, walked up the driveway into the old farmhouse. Dominic went to the lobby to welcome them. Minutes later, the new guests began to enter the dormitory and greeted the other amputees. The last to arrive was a young man who swung in on one steel peg leg and elbow crutches followed by Dominic.

            – Alors, here is my group. We are making the tour du pays on the railways.

            – And my group is making a tour of the country visiting the best pubs. It is very good to meet you and welcome to our country. We are going into town by bus soon and everyone is welcome to join us. We are going to the best pub of the year two thousand and nine. In fact, guys, we should get going now. There’s an hour between buses.

Guy and the young peg legger could not take their eyes off each other. The youngster looked like someone immortalised by a renaissance artist and he was infatuated with Guy’s beauty and magnificent moustache. Tom spoke up.

            – If anyone needs the toilet, now is the time to speak up or forever hold your piss. OK, all those who want a beer, follow me. Dominic, do your friends understand?

            – Yes, I think they understand. Allons-y?

Most of them rose. It had been enough to register and leave their bagages. The rest of the evening could be spent becoming acquainted with local people. Jim and his friends were local enough. Two others begged off and remained seated on their beds.

 

Ten amputees made their way to the bus stop and arrived in the nick of time. The single decker curtsied and ejected a platform from beneath the central door. Tom and Chris pushed Guy and Ellis up it into the bus. The others entered via the front door and flashed their debit and credit cards to pay the fare. Their driver found himself with such an uncomfortable erection that he had to slow the bus in order to reposition his penis. Amputees had always been a turn on for him. He was currently carrying more than he normally saw in an entire year. He wanted another look at them so he parked the bus at the next bus stop and walked back to adjust the rear route number indicator which he opened and poked a couple of times. He returned to his seat slowly, inspecting the seats, taking in the peg legs and hooks worn by his passengers. He pulled into the town centre bus station and opened the doors, watching out especially for the teenager with the solitary peg leg. He would provide erotic inspiration for many years to come. Seeing the youngster crutching toward the central doors, the driver ejaculated powerfully into his underwear.

 

The pub was on the ground floor of a Victorian monstrosity, dripping with meaningless ornamentation. But its entry had no step, the doors were wide and the interior was spacious and exuded a genuine atmosphere of the good old days. There was nothing in the decor which suggested the twenty-first century.

            – Good evening gentlemen. Please sit where you want and I will take your orders.

This pub had won in two thousand and nine and received a special mention for being especially accommodating for disabled visitors. It was rarely off the top ten list of best pubs and had remained popular and  profitable during a clear generational shift in preference of venues. Two or three couples seated at nearby tables watched the ten amputees’ arrival in astonishment. One woman almost retched and said to her man Get me out of here. I can’t be here with those monsters. He looked at the handsome faces seated at two tables, their prosthetic arms resting on the table top, winked at them and escorted his complaining companion out to the street. They were on a first date. He said goodbye to her and immediately went back inside. He caught Jim’s eye.

            – Lady problems?

            – She objected to your disabilities. Silly woman.

            – So now you’re on your own.

            – Yup.

            – Well, you’re welcome to join us for the evening.

            – That’s very good of you. I will. Hello everyone! My name is Jack Seagal and I am a taxi driver.

The group introduced themselves and shook hands or whatever was available.

            – You’re from France? Bienvenu. J'espère que vous passez de bonnes vacances. [Welcome! I hope you have a nice holiday.]

            – Merci, monsieur!

            – You’re not disturbed by being with a bunch of amputees?

            – No, no. My brother came back from Afghanistan in several pieces. He has two prosthetic legs and uses a hook like yours, above the elbow. Very smart those steel arms, if I may say so. So I’m perfectly used to seeing the odd stump every now and then. That’s why my lady friend had to go. We were on a first date, you see. I like my women friends to have a bit more empathy.

            – Well, let’s get some drinks. What are we having?

            – Lagers all round, I guess.

The bar tender took their order and hurried back to start pouring eleven lagers. Jim paid the bill and asked the others to settle up later.

            – I forgot to tell him to use straight-sided glasses. I hope we can pick the beers up.

The lagers were served in tall narrow glasses which posed no problem for the hook users. They toasted each others’ health and began the inevitable conversation about their various prosthetics and the causes of their disablement. The young peg legger sitting opposite Guy had been involved in a motorcycle smash and had a high above knee stump and a below knee prosthesis which he had converted into a peg leg by swapping out the leg for a pylon, just as Dominic had demonstrated. One of the French group had been electrocuted and lost all four limbs below knee and elbow. He was using distinctive bionic hands of white plastic with a thumb and three fingers.

            – I’m ready to order some fish and chips. Anyone else hungry?

            – I will see first how your fish and frites is. Then maybe I order.

There were five orders for fish and chips with a warning that more might soon be on the way. The fish was beer-battered cod fillet, the chips prepared from blemish-free potatoes on the premises fried in beef fat. It was delicious and within half an hour, the whole group had ordered the exact same thing.

 

Conversation continued long into the evening, ranging from the advantages of various types of prosthetic hooks to the problems posed by irregular strong verbs. Tom reminded the foreign visitors that they were no longer in school, chatting was not a competition, and reassured them that native speakers too were often unsure of the correct word. Jack explained that he had lived in Lyon for three years which was why his French was pretty good. He was kept busy acting as a walking dictionary and translator and was thoroughly enjoying himself. He asked for Jim’s contact details to forward to his brother who was lacked motivation to use his prosthetic arm. He unknowingly gave a powerful boost to Jim’s confidence. Perhaps they could arrange a meeting sometime. Jim agreed enthusiastically.

 

The time approached when they would either need to catch the last bus or use taxis to return to the hostel. They thanked the bar tender and made their way around the block to the bus station. The same driver was still on shift and perked up considerably. He lowered the wheelchair ramp allowing access for the beautiful man and his friend. And here was the fantastic teenager on a peg leg. Having already cleaned up one discharge earlier in the evening, he tried to keep his lust under control. To some degree he succeeded. He drove the amputees to their accommodation and wished them good night. He sped to the end of his route, walked home and wanked himself to sleep. The peg legged boy slept in Guy’s bed. The pair of legless men ground their genitals together in a mockery of safe sex and both came, enjoying the wet triumph of good sex.

 

Next morning after breakfast, both groups bade each other adieu and the five caught a bus to the station. The next destination was only about twenty kilometres away and a local stopping train was due at eleven twenty. It was nothing more than a big village but due to the nearby remains of a Roman settlement, it attracted far more visitors than its size would suggest. The youth hostel and the prize-winning pub were both at opposite ends of the same converted barn. The pub had won in nineteen ninety-nine for the excellence of its own brews, its superb meals and accessibility. The hostel itself had often been mentioned as among the country’s five best. They had a two night reservation and hoped for a break after four days of travel.

 

They checked in, Chris testing his memory with his mates’ details before checking their passports. They were shown into a dormitory for twenty. Ten pine bunk beds were arranged along opposite walls and the area in front of the window featured two long sofas and a low table. The back wall was covered by twenty large lockers, each big enough to hold a backpack. Several of the beds were already occupied but there were five lower bunks available, spread out around the room. They claimed them for their own and made the beds up. Chris was kept busy helping the other hook users. Jim always needed help but had a good try before asking for assistance. Guy and Ellis could insert blankets into the sheets but had very limited reach. Jim thought Chris had the patience of a saint. It wasn’t much of a holiday for him, Jim thought. He would have to make it up to him somehow.

 

            – I don’t want to go out just yet. I think I’ll take a nap.

            – Guy? You want a nap, mate?

            – Yes, OK.

Chris undid Guy’s safety belt and lifted the torso onto his bed. He did the same for Ellis at the other end of the room. Tom unscrewed his peg and flopped onto his bed. Jim beckoned Chris over with a swipe of his hook and they went outside into the yard.

            – I’m sorry this isn’t a better holiday for you, Chris. You’re having to do so much work, especially for Guy and Ellis, although I have to count myself among the troublemakers.

            – Jim! It’s no bother at all. Ever since I amped myself, I’ve appreciated better what sorts of problems you guys face and I’m only too willing to help out. I really appreciate being with you. I appreciate living rent free with a wage. I’ve never been better off in my life. I really don’t feel that you are taking advantage or that I’m being imposed upon. You mustn’t think that. I hope you feel I’m one of the crowd now. I do, anyway. So there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I love my prosthetics and I love watching you all using yours. It’s only natural to expect the one guy with a meat hand to help out every so often. It’s what I agreed to do and it’s what I enjoy doing so don’t worry about me not having a holiday break. Deal?

They shook, hand to hook.

            – I’m going to buy your beers this evening as a token of appreciation anyway.

            – Well, I can’t refuse that, mate!

They wandered back inside and snoozed for an hour.

 

Other guests turned up and looked around for a lower bunk bed. Two Turks arrived and stopped in amazement at the sight of artificial limbs standing and laying by various beds. They were both amputees, one with bilateral lower leg amputations and the other with mid-forearm stumps. He wore a black leather and aluminium sheath on his right stump like the one seen on Henri.

            – Bu olağanüstü! Bu insanlar kim? [This is extraordinary! Who are these people?]

They selected two upper bunks unoccupied by sleeping amputees and made their beds. They decided to wait until the amputees woke up. Perhaps they might be temporary brothers. It was how their culture worked. Brothers in fate. Another four hostellers arrived and looked around.

            – Well, I guess we’re gonna havta do some climbin’ here.

The Turks watched as the newcomers made themselves at home, jeering at the quaintness, at the artificial limbs on the floor and the wheelchairs.

            – Buncha faggots in here, man.

Their braying woke the amputees.

            – Whaddaya know. Here’s one wakin’ up.

Jim sat up, rocked himself around and stood up.

            – What’s going on? Why are you making so much noise? What’s the matter with you?

            – Get this! A whiny limey. Fuck you!

Jim went out to the concierge’s desk.

            – We are going to have some problems with those four who just arrived in room two. They are being verbally aggressive and I don’t see why we need to tolerate it.

            – Yes, they sounded like troublemakers as they were checking in. I’ll sort it out. Don’t worry about it.

Jim returned to the room.

The concierge pressed a button under the counter and three minutes later, a security company van pulled up outside.

            – Hi April! What’s the trouble?

            – Four loudmouths in room two. They need a warning but I don’t think that would help. I’d like them out, please. I’ll get their refunds ready.

            – Leave it to us, love.

The guards walked calmly into the dormitory. There was no mistaking the four troublemakers.

            – You four. Get your things together. You’re out of here, right now. Get a move on.

            – I can’t risk trouble with the police, man. I’d lose my visa. We better go.

They picked up their rucksacks, kicked a mattress askew and walked past the group of amputees mouthing obscenities. The security duo followed them out the door.

            – Here is your money back.

            – Wouldna want to stay in this shithole anyway.

            – Then you are fortunate to be leaving us. Goodbye.

 

Jim noticed the Turks by the window and said hello.

            – I see we have something in common. Where are you from?

            – Istanbul. We are studying English at university and this is our first journey to this country.

            – Are you both amputees? I can see that you are.

            – Yes, I am using two prostheses on my legs. A railway accident when I was ten years.

            – Well, it is nice to meet you. I’m Jim.

            – And we are Aslan and Bayram.

            – It’s nice to meet you. Sorry I can’t shake hands.

Jim was sitting with his short shoulder stumps on display. His steely arms were on the floor by his bed.

            – How did you lose your hands?

            – Ten years ago my family was building a new house. A piece of steel fell on my arms and it cut my hands off. But I have my hooks and my leather cap so I am OK.

            – Do you have your hooks with you?

            – I have one in my luggage.

            – I see. I should put mine back on. Just a minute.

Jim lifted his prostheses onto his bed with a foot and rearranged them. He lay down between the arms and inserted his meagre stumps into their sockets and shrugged them into place. He stood up. The steel sheen flashed in the sunlight.

            – They are very beautiful. I think you are very proud to own such beautiful arms.

Jim’s self-esteem rose another notch.

            – Thank you. Yes, I am.

 

Guy called out for Chris to help him get up. Chris lifted him and offered his prostheses.

            – No not yet. I want to see the new people without arms.

            – Oh, OK. In the chair?

            – Yes please.

Chris fitted Guy’s hearing aids, put Guy into his wheelchair, secured the safety belt and pushed him across to the window.

            – Hello, I am Chris and this is Guy. He is deaf – he cannot hear well, you understand?

            – Yes. Hello Guy. We have the same arms!

            – Yes. I want to ask you where I can get a leather thing like that.

            – In Turkey, any shoemaker can make such a thing. It is a traditional cap for stumps. In my country is it impolite to show a skin stump. So we wear these leather caps. It is easy to add the metal part so I can smoke a cigarette or hold a pen.

            – I would like to try one.

            – You can try this. Perhaps it will fit.

He put his stump between his thighs and removed the sheath. He offered it to Guy, who worked his right stump into it. It was warm. It felt a little tight but perhaps that was the intention. He flexed his stump and a centimetre gap opened between the aluminium scoop and the leather sheath. Open, close, open, close.

            – This is very nice. We do not have these things.

            – I would like to give it to you, my brother, but I need it too much. If it is the correct size for you, I will send you one from Istanbul. Is that what you would like?

            – Yes, I would like it very much. Thank you. How much does it cost?

            – I will send it to you as a gift, my friend. Give me your address.

            – Thank you.

 

Tom held his pylon in his hooks and gradually fixed it into his thigh socket. He stood, stretched his arms and shrugged his harness back into its customary position.

            – What’s going on over here? Hello! I’m Tom. Oh, you and I have the same little problem, I see.

            – Yes, I am Bayram and here is my friend Aslan. We are here to visit the Roman town. I want to see the… mozaikler?

            – Mosaics? The floor designs?

            – Yes! My family is a specialist in restoring old buildings. I want to see the old restoration work in your country.

            – Are the ruins here very important?

            – Yes. They have the best mosaics for the Roman gods in the world.

            – I think we should visit them.

            – Of course. They are beautiful also if you are not interested in the history.

Aslan leant forward and pushed against the tabletop, rising to his feet.

            – Please excuse me.

He waddled out from between the sofas and rocked out of the room.

            – Is your friend disabled?

            – Yes, he has two prostheses.

            – It’s strange. We meet amputees everywhere.

            – We are everywhere.

            – Yes, of course.

            – In my country, amputees were sinful people. Allah was angry at them. Now people are more intelligent and a person like me can show my stumps in the street. Before I would have been called a thief. My hands cut off as punishment. But no-one believes this old things now.

            – It’s good. Your stumps are a very good shape.

            – Yes, I like these stumps. It was OK to have hands but I like my hooks and my cap and I have many friends who liked my stumps. They asked me questions and so we became friends.

Jim spoke up.

            – We are going to visit the pub a little later. Would you like to join us? Do you drink alcohol?

            – Oh yes! We drink alcohol in Turkey. We are not like our neighbours. We are a Muslim country, but not so serious. No-one really believes that things any more. I drink a beer with my friends about one time in a month.

            – Christ! I drink a beer with my friends several times a day. Would you like to come with us later? They have good local food too.

            – Gidelim mi? Yes, we will come for a beer.

            – Bayram, there may be more than one.

 

The home team gradually introduced themselves and made themselves comfortable. Other guests arrived, greeting them and quickly exiting when they saw the various disabilities on display. Almost all the beds in the dormitory had been occupied. The Americans’ beds had been stripped and the sheets removed. Half an hour before the pub opened, a spritely pair of senior gentlemen entered and wished everyone a good afternoon. They struggled to dump their rucksacks and shrugged off their yellow raincoats. Their arms appeared. Two pairs of Krukenberg arms, one with long split arms and the other with shorter ten centimetre pincers.

 

Jim watched them rearrange their gear and remove more suitable clothing from their rucksacks. The man with the longer pincers helped his colleague with concerned attentiveness. They both removed their shirts and vests, threw them on the floor and dressed in T-shirts bearing a logo and the word STUMPED across it. They looked across to the group seated on the sofas and raised an arm.

 

            – Do join us! We seem to have something in common.

            – That’s very kind of you. Hello, everyone. My name is Clive and this is my husband Gerald. As you can see we have a certain disability which is why we live together. To help, as may be required.

The real reason for their co-habitation was that they were both flaming queens and both had fulfilled their desire to be handless amputees decades ago. But the truth need not be told to everyone.

            – Do sit down, if you can find space.

Jim introduced his friends and the two Turkish visitors who were agog at the mutant arms the gentlemen displayed.

            – Don’t take this as criticism but how are you in a youth hostel?

            – Oh, they allowed us senior citizens to join about five years ago. Gerald and I have travelled all over since then. We used hostels in our misspent youth to see Europe and now we are doing the same in our dotage.

            – Speak for yourself, you terror.

            – So you see, you might find young men under thirty in a youth hostel but also senior citizens like us. I see most of you are wielding hooks. I have never liked hooks myself so after my amputations I demanded my surgeon perform the Krukenberg procedure on my rather long stumps. I soon returned to work in the civil service as if nothing had happened. That was forty odd years ago.

They appraised the group of amputees. Almost everyone wore hooks. Two foreigners with handsome moustaches, one with arm stumps. And a young man of stunning beauty with beautiful light blue eyes and a wondrous moustache, limbless in a bucket. What a shame. Perhaps he had no-one to fuck him. They would find out later.

 

Opening time. It was only three in the afternoon but the beer garden was beginning to catch the afternoon sun and all the amputees found their preferred positions facing into or away from it. A scent of wild roses wafted over the garden. Soon a tall, gangling teenaged lad wearing a long apron and very impressive facial hair for a youngster came to take their orders.

            – What would you like, gentlemen?

            – Bring us nine of your most popular own brews please. I am curious to taste your prize-winning beer.

            – I hope you won’t be disappointed, sir.

He looked wide-eyed at the number of artificial arms on show.

            – May I ask if there are any special considerations you might require?

            – You are very thoughtful. We would like tall glasses with straight parallel sides, if possible.

            – I understand. Thank you.

 

He brought the beers and the group raised their glasses with whatever they had available to them. Jim spoke up.

            – Where are you from, if I may ask? How did you find each other? Your split stumps are very unusual.

            – They are, you are quite right. I lost my hands in an accident in a Ford factory which is long gone. I was working there between terms at university. I was fitted with hooks but I could not use them and so I demanded that my surgeon reshape my arms as you see them today. My lover, Clive here, was fascinated by my new stumps and wanted to have stumps of his own. So I suggested that he lose his feet and after a quick tour of the local railway yard while intoxicated, he managed the task and now walks on two wooden legs. His arm amputations came later, didn’t they?

            – They did. A family friend, actually my father’s wartime friend, became a surgeon after the war and was sympathetic to my request to become an upper limb amputee. He made a nice amount of extra cash on the side serving the wannabe community in a cottage hospital in the midlands, performing amputations on demand for a fee. As a special favour to me, whom he had known since I was a boy, he amputated my hands without payment and sculpted these rather butch pincers.

            – That’s fascinating. Was your surgeon never suspected of performing unnecessary amputations?

            – Indeed he was. On two occasions he was taken to court by distraught family members who insisted that the new amputees had been perfectly healthy but he had prepared his paperwork sufficiently that the charges were thrown out. His last work was in 1985, removing the hands of an eighteen year old boy who wanted hooks.

            – That is remarkable. We had to cause our amputations ourselves. Only Tom had an accident, resulting in his handsome peg leg. His arms, and indeed mine, were amputated voluntarily.

            – What a bother it is to undergo such a quick and easy reconfiguration! But you young men are lucky. You have your whole lives ahead of you to enjoy your stumps and experience life from quite a different direction than the able-bodied. Much more rewarding, we have found.

            – That’s reassuring to hear. As you see, we have two foreign friends, Bayram and Aslan from Istanbul, but the rest of us all live together in my loft apartment. We love all our stumps and our hooks and would not want to be any other way.

            – How wonderful for you. Now, I would really like to offer you all another drink and before you protest, I insist.

            – That is kind of you. Quite unnecessary but if you insist.

            – I do. Where is that handsome young man? Oh, the times I have asked that question! There he is.

Clive gestured with his grotesque arm and ordered another round. Aslan looked questioningly at Bayram. They had both heard that it was the custom for people in this country to buy everyone else’s drinks and could not imagine drinking eleven glasses of beer before bedtime. Aslan struggled to his feet. Gerald noticed his difficulty and questioned him.

            – Young man! Are you wearing artificial legs?

            – Yes sir.

            – Oh, please come and talk to me when you get back. How lovely to have two artificial legs at that age.

            – Why do you say that?

            – Because of the attention, of course. Most people see only a young man with a limp. The aficionado sees the rigid feet and ankles and the rolling gait. It’s all too much. And then he can pounce! Hello. May I help? Please take my arm. That sort of thing.

            – Gerald, don’t let your imagination fly away with you.

            – Shut up, you old bozo! Do you see how the amputations open up conversations with kind and thoughtful men who would never have spoken to you otherwise?

            – Yes, I do. I’ve never thought of that before.

            – A young man like yourself with such spectacular arms and hooks? Do you not have a special friend?

            – Well, these are all my friends.

            – Ah, but they are not lovers. That is what I meant.

Jim suddenly felt a shiver of isolation and loneliness. Guy and Ellis were lovers. Tom and Chris fucked each other. Jim had no-one.

            – You should use your amputations to your advantage. May I make a suggestion?

            – Please do.

            – Your beautiful steel arms are perhaps a little ostentatious, shall we say? I suggest using only one in public. And get yourself a pair of black or old-fashioned pink arms, but wear just one. I am quite sure people will rush to your assistance all the time. And some of them may be the type of man you are looking for. You are tall and handsome, an imposing figure to be admired from afar. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, they see you are a hook user, a wounded and vulnerable Adonis. Suddenly you are approachable even by a short but kind man who would otherwise never have dared to speak to you.

Jim looked at Gerald in amazement. Layer after layer of conjecture had been stripped from his self-image. He saw the logic. He understood.

            –That is possibly the best advice I have ever heard in my life.

            – I wish you well with it, my dear boy. Naked stumps for naked lovers, that’s what we say, don’t we, Clive?

Aslan returned from the wc and the group shifted so he could sit next to Gerald.

            – You have something to tell me?

            – Yes, my boy. I have just explained something very similar to Jim. Please tell me if you do not understand. I will wait for a translation from an app. While you are in this country, you will find more help and more friends if you wear shorts. Then people can see your artificial legs and will be more sympathetic. Do you understand?

            – Yes, I think so. I should wear shorts here. In my country it is still a mark of sin to be an amputee for some people. That is why we always wear long trousers, long shirts.

            – How awful for you. Here you can feel quite free to show your artificial legs.

            – Thank you for this advice, sir.

 

The afternoon turned into evening. The older gentlemen told improbable stories relating to their disablement which alternately horrified or disgusted their listeners. Bayram and Aslan insisted that, please, no more beer, but both had reached that pleasing level of intoxication beyond which self-control dissolves and they experienced drunkenness for the fist time in their lives at the ripe old age of twenty-one. As darkness fell, the amputees rose to their feet, prosthetic and otherwise, wishing to christ they had at least one walking stick with them and staggered along the forecourt to the hostel. April wished them a good night and pondered for the hundredth time why young men wanted to be so drunk at every opportunity.

 

Most of the group remembered where their bunks were. Guy and Ellis slept in the same bed in their torso sockets. Bayram and Aslan fell into Aslan’s lower bunk and consummated their relationship. Jim and Chris shucked their arms and Chris climbed into Jim’s bunk and they gently fucked each other, listening to the snores and sounds of a roomful of other men.

 

Despite horrendous headaches, Aslan and Bayram gathered some self-control and invited the amputees to join them on a visit to the Roman ruins. Guy and Ellis begged off, expecting gravel pathways at best. They spent some time looking at the sights to be seen online and spent the rest of the morning in their wheelchairs investigating the tourist boutiques interspersed along the old farm building, intended specifically to profit from trade from visitors to the hostel and local ruins. They bought nothing but caused a seven per cent increase in business by having other tourists follow them into the boutiques. They wanted to gawp more at the wheelchairs and prosthetic arms, not buy postcards or T-shirts depicting Roman mosaics.

 

The trekkers returned mid-afternoon. Bayram was overjoyed with the results of his visit and had taken four hundred photographs. Chris and Tom were happy to be back on solid ground. It had been uncomfortable for both of them to walk on gravel for a couple of kilometres with a peg leg.

            – Shall we have a beer?

            – Is it open already?

            – Let’s have a look. It should be.

It was. Chris ordered two lagers and the handsome young waiter delivered them moments later. He took in the two young guys, a bit older than himself, maybe as old as his brother. They were both sitting with rigid peg legs sticking out in front of them. Dare he ask them about their pegs? It was his most active fetish and he could orgasm only when imagining himself as a leg amputee. He already had an erection just by serving beer to these two and he was sure it was visible to them and everyone else. His penis was twenty-two centimetres long and, as his best friend told him once, very beefy.

            – Here you are, your beers, gentlemen. Er, I don’t know quite how to say this, but I find your peg legs very interesting.

Both Chris and Tom knew exactly what he meant. They had had this conversation before.

            – Would you like to see us walk on them? Or would you like to hold one? Or would you like to wear one for real? Would you like to have one leg?

The poor kid’s erection was hurting.

            – I would love to walk on a peg leg. It just looks so… masculine.

Tom shifted in his seat and lifted his wooden peg onto the table.

            – Go ahead. Feel it. All the way up, don’t be shy. I understand.

The youngster put his tray down, looked around and knelt in front of Tom. His hands explored the smooth shaft and worked up, feeling the flawless transition from shaft to socket, its smoothness and solidity. He bowed his head and ejaculated, gripping Tom’s peg leg.

            – It looks like you weren’t joking, mate. What’s your name? I think you’d like to meet up again, wouldn’t you?

            – Ah, sorry. Yes, I would. I have to…

            – Clean up your jizz? Off you go. Come and see us again. And bring us another beer.

            – Yes, I will. And my name is Trevor.

            – Nice to meet you, Trevor.

He collected his tray and walked a little awkwardly back to the pub.

            – That’s a genuine case. Do you think we should help him have his leg off?

            – Well, the way I see it is this. We can give them the info but it’s their decision whether to go through with it or not. Nothing to do with us.

            – Yeah, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. But if we didn’t give them the info, they would never have the amputations.

            –  Have you got anything against amputations, Chris?

            – No, of course not.

            – Well then. Skål!

 

Brenton Harter had been armless for several months and was slowly learning to operate artificial arms with his shoulder stumps. He had little motivation. A livid scar ran across his face from his right temple to his left cheek and his perfect teeth had been destroyed, replaced by dentures which he rarely wore. He was sitting at home when his telephone announced the arrival of a message. are you still available for special services? have found new recruit. greetings tom pearson

He typed back. am armless. call other students. judson 221-2225667.

            – That’s odd. He says he’s armless. Do you think he got so enthusiastic that he had his own arms amputated?

            – I wouldn’t be surprised. He always struck me as a peculiar sort of guy. Did he give another contact number?

            – Yeah, Judson. His dad owns the place, if I remember correctly.

            – Well, you can message him and see if there’s any chance to fit Trevor in. The guy looked like he was serious about it all. I’ll send Judson the same message.

He replied almost immediately. not operating because parents! restarting end sept. pls forward number of guest.

            – That’s good. The place is starting up again at the end of summer. He wants Trevor’s phone number.

            – Which more or less clinches it.

            – I wouldn’t mind seeing more of Trevor. He’s a good-looking bloke.

            – Well, you’re going to have his phone number very soon. You can ask him for a date.

 

Trevor brought them several beers that afternoon. He listened to Tom’s explanation about the process he would probably go through to get his amputation after which he would need a prosthesis from somewhere.

            – Just using crutches would be enough for me.

            – You may think so but crutches make it impossible to carry anything and fall over everywhere. You’ll have to get some kind of leg.

            – A peg leg would be incredible. I love the look and the gait.

            – You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you, Trev?

            – Yes, every day, many times a day. At night when I go to sleep.

            – And you cum thinking of being an amp.

            – Mmm, yeah.

            – Well, I hope you can get it sorted. One of the students will be in touch with you sooner or later.

 

The rest of the group joined Tom and Chris a while later and they moved inside as dusk fell and the air grew chilly. As always, they were the centre of attention but were left in peace to enjoy their drinks. They staggered back to the hostel just before eleven and were fast asleep before midnight.

 

The morning sun blasted into the dormitory and roused everyone. Chris was busy seeing to Guy and Ellis and gave them a quick wash. Jim inspected his face which now featured several day’s stubble and decided he might grow a beard. It would save time in the mornings and might look pretty good judging by the way the stubble was growing in. Tom and Chris had a shower together, holding on to each other for balance.

            – We should always have showers together, mate. I like having something to grab hold of.

            – Would you like to rephrase that?

            – Half the water, twice the fun.

            – You are a funny bugger.

 

They said goodbye to Bayram and Aslan, thanked April for her help and checked out. The next destination was quite a way and involved two changes of trains. The first connection left in forty minutes and they walked and wheeled to the station. The first local train chugged along to the local market town where they waited half an hour for another similar to the only large town in the county. Their connection arrived three minutes early but waited ten minutes to balance the timetable. Jim used the time to fetch some doughnuts and bottles of water. They had fun squishing them and making a wet mess.

 

The next destination was an old industrial town making a good effort reinventing itself as a technological hub. The train crossed a river on a high viaduct and pulled into the station. The youth hostel was less than half a kilometre away but fifty metres lower on the bank of the river in a converted redbrick warehouse. A newly constructed funicular ran between the river’s promenade and the station level, avoiding a long sloping detour. The promenade was part of the regeneration of the town and featured boutique shops, bistros, a couple of fashionable pubs and a hotel. The hostel was in the last building beside a handsome park.

            – Good afternoon, gentlemen! Welcome. Are you part of the DSF group?

            – Er, I don’t think so? What’s that?

            – The DSF? It’s the Disabled Soldiers’ Foundation. They are holding their annual meeting in town and some of them have chosen to stay here. In fact, we have very few beds left. I hope you won’t mind if we need to spread you about.

            – No, not at all.

Behind them, two thirty-something guys with shaved heads and cut-off cargo pants stumped past on short steel stubbies.

            – Good. There are five of you, is that right? For two nights? We have reserved three beds in room twelve and two in room fourteen. Here are your sheets. The reception is open twenty-four seven and there will always be someone here to help should you need it. Breakfast over there from six thirty until ten.

Jim settled the bill.

            – Thank you very much. It seems we have come to the right place.

            – It would appear so. The DSF group arrived two days ago and will be here for another two. They’ll be leaving at the same time as you. I must say, it’s been an interesting couple of days. Quite a different bunch from the usual Germans and Dutch tourists we get at this time of year.

            – How so?

            – Much more laughter, for a start. A much better atmosphere. It affects us too. I spent yesterday evening with half a dozen of the guys in the pub down the road and they had three complete limbs between them. And I’ve never seen men enjoying themselves more. Quite remarkable.

            – That’s great. Talking about pubs, we are in town to visit The White Hart pub. We’re on a tour of prize-winning pubs, you see. What’s the best way to get there?

            – Well, it’s on the other side of the river and quite a way but easy enough to get to. Go up the funicular and cross the street to the metro station. Then two stops south and the White Hart is sort of diagonally opposite. You’ll see it. It’s lit up so you can’t miss it.

            – Will our OpenRail tickets work on the metro?

            – Oh yes, it’s all the same thing these days.

            – Good. Well, thank you very much.

They sought their rooms which turned out to be large dormitories each with ten bunks in them. Jim and Tom agreed to be in fourteen and the others could find their beds in twelve. Chris would be able to keep an eye on Guy and Ellis.

 

They each found an unmade bed and made it up as best they could. Several other guests were lying on their beds, reading or watching videos. The variety of artificial legs standing by their bedsides was hugely interesting for Chris, as was his peg leg for the ex-military men who had noticed their arrival. They watched as he made beds for Guy and Ellis, although he suspected the pair would spend the night together in one bed.

            – Hey mate!

Chris looked over to see a bearded man with two black prosthetic arms and a pair of very short stubbies sitting on a bed.

            – Hi! Is this alright? I’m not taking someone’s place, am I?

            – No, no. You’re not in our group, are you? Bit on the young side for that.

            – You’re ex-military, I heard. No, we’re just ordinary civilians.

            – Not exactly ordinary though, are you?

            – No, I suppose not. Two more of our group are in another room. They have three limbs between them. We only have two and I’ve got them.

            – Hook and a peg. They look good on you.

            – What’s your meeting all about? I think someone mentioned it’s an annual event.

            – Yeah, it is. It’s a sort of under the radar organisation which lets us army amps get together for a bit of relaxation without the army or some fucking charity being involved. We have ourselves a good old-fashioned booze up for a couple of days. We search out a few places which have decent pubs in them and turn up for some fun and games with other blokes who don’t care if someone looks like I do.

            – Ha! We’re on a pub crawl too. We started in the south and then visited two places up country. Now we’re here for the White Hart.

            – You’re kidding? That’s on our hit list for tonight. Why don’t you join us?

            – That’s very good of you. I reckon we might well do that. Since we’re going to be in the same place anyway and there might be something in common to talk about.

            – You bet there is!

            – I better go and see how my mates are getting on. I’m the only one with a meat hand, you see.

            – So you get to do all the work.

            – Well, I can add the finishing touches.

Chris pegged out of the room. The ex-soldier lowered himself to the floor and waddled over to where Ellis and Guy sat in their wheelchairs. His painfully short stubbies allowed him a stride of about twenty centimetres.

            – Hi! It seems we’re going to the White Hart together. I’m Doug Butler. Shan’t bother with the letters after my name. You lose your limbs and they give you letters. Anyway, I hope you’re up for a good booze up tonight.

            – Good to meet you, Doug.

Ellis extended an arm and they clashed hooks.

            – We had a bit of a booze up yesterday night, too. Feeling a bit run down today.

            – Oh, you’ll soon perk up when you get a couple of beers inside you. You’ve not got any legs, have you?

            – No, neither has my mate Guy here. Completely legless. Sitting in buckets.

            – Yeah, I served my term in a wheelchair too. I was told by about fifty doctors that my stumps are too short even for stubbies until I insisted and the fifty-first put in an order for these. I’ve got a big belt to keep the fuckers on but I’m walking again.

            – That’s great. Guy and me were used to walking around with crutches and these shells but we were a bit slow and couldn’t do anything else, so we ended up in chairs. We’re a bit quicker now, depending on if it’s uphill or down.

            – Ha! I guess you don’t have stumps to attach stubbies to.

            – No, we’re just rounded torsos. By the way, Guy is very deaf. It’s why he’s a bit quiet.

            – Hello Guy! How ya doing, mate?

Guy lifted a hook and smiled behind his luxurious moustache. His light blue eyes held Doug captivated for several seconds.

            – Yes, well. Good to meet you and I’ll talk to you later.

He rocked back to his bed, worked his way onto it and was soon snoring. Jim and Tom appeared at the door and gestured Let’s go. Guy and Ellis spun their chairs around and shoved themselves toward the door with Chris following behind, ready to give an extra push if needed.

            – We seem to have landed the mother lode.

            – What does that mean?

            – It means we have fallen into a den of amputees. There’s no-one in our dorm with all his limbs. The sound of hooks creaking and legs squeaking is deafening.

            – Same thing in ours. I was talking to one of the guys. He said they want to get together without the holier-than-thou regime of charities and all that. So every summer they meet up for a proper booze-up in a really good pub. And apparently The White Hart is a really good pub.

            – Well, that’s good because that’s where we’re going right now. I looked up the opening times and they’re serving lunch until two thirty.

            – Good. I’m starving. Lead the way!

 

They returned to the cable car and found the entrance to the Metro. They descended in a stinking lift and travelled two stops to the area where the White Hart had stood for a couple of centuries. They could hear masculine laughter from the beer garden from the other side of the street.

            – I think we have come to the right place, guys.

 

They crossed and entered the old pub. The interior was open and spacious with black and white walls complemented by dark green and grey textiles. An open door towards the back led out to the beer garden.

            – Are you going outside, gentlemen? May I take your orders?

            – Yes, good afternoon! Five light lagers, please.

            – Go ahead and find a seat in the garden. I’ll bring you your drinks.

Jim pushed Guy’s chair and Tom pushed Ellis out into the huge open space. It sloped gently down to the river’s edge, so that people seated at ten metres distance could see the legs of other patrons at eye level. A large number of ex-army guys watched the newcomers arrive, interested to see old-style peg legs on two of them. Where had they got those? And steel arm prostheses? They looked the business! The bar tender brought their drinks and they asked for a menu.

            – Something we can eat with hooks. You know, finger food.

            – I’ll see what the kitchen can arrange. If you wanted steak, I’m sure the chef will cut it into pieces for you.

            – Good to know. Thank you.

            – You know what I miss? A plate of spaghetti bolognese.

            – It would be nice but spaghetti’s such a bitch to eat with hooks.

            – I know. Still, we have lasagne.

            – Can’t remember the last time we had that, either. Chris, can you make lasagne?

            – Sure. Mince and white sauce. What’s so hard about that?

            – Will you make some when we get home?

            – Sure.

A muscular ex-soldier approached with a grin on his face. The left sleeve of his olive T-shirt was empty and he limped on an above knee prosthesis.

            – Saw you come in. You’re not with the DSF, are you? Anyway, we’d like you to join our gang up at the top end. We can make room for you if you’re interested.

            – Thanks very much. What do you say? Shall we join the men?

Chris and Tom rose to their feet.

            – Let’s go.

They wheeled Guy and Ellis towards the group and parked them amongst three other wheelchair users who said hello and shook their hooks. They were legless with varying lengths of stump on display.

            –We got blown up, as you might have guessed. What happened to you two?

            – Guy here is deaf, by the way, he might not understand you unless he can lip read. Well, Guy was born with a condition which slowly crippled him and he had elective amputations. Both legs completely and both hands. I fell under a train and lost my limbs. I had a leg stump for a while but it was in the way and useless so I had it off. Now we both sit in these torso sockets.

He rapped his chest with a hook to demonstrate the socket.

            – And you scoot around in wheelchairs. That’s cool. There’s a guy pretty similar to you in our group. He’s not here yet. He uses two hooks and has two tiny leg stumps. Walks on very short stubbies.

            – Is he called Doug, by any chance?

            – Yes, he is! Have you met him?

            – Yeah, he’s in the same dormitory. We had a bit of a chat earlier. He told us there would be a group of soldiers here today.

            – Well anyway, Doug is usually in a chair too but he got those stubbies and he has dumped his chair. Me, I’ve done the opposite. I usually wear legs but after last year, I decided the best way to get around over the weekend is in a chair.

            – What happened last year?

            – Oh, the usual. We had about fifteen lagers and ended up so pissed we couldn’t walk. We had to be dragged by the landlord into taxis and the drivers had to do the same thing outside the hotel. Then the night staff had to get us into our rooms. There were legs and arms coming off everywhere. One guy lost a super expensive bionic electric hand which was never seen again, so I don’t know what he got up to. Anyway, it was a total disaster and a good time was had by all. The DSF was banned from the hotel for five years.

            – At least it’s fairly secure in a wheelchair if you get a bit drunk.

            – Yeah. We’ll see tonight. I’ll probably tip over backwards and end up with a concussion.

 

Jim had found another bilateral above elbow amputee and they were deeply involved in exchanging information about tips and tricks. The ex-soldier’s name was Gary Collins and he had been driving a jeep when a missile shot through the cabin and removed both his arms instantaneously. No-one else in the jeep was injured. They managed to stop the vehicle before it crashed and saved Gary’s life by squeezing his blood-slippery stumps. A helicopter collected him and he was airlifted to a field hospital where his stumps were cleaned and closed temporarily. He was soon on a transport plane back to Europe.

            – The usual story. Nothing very special. Now tell me about your steel arms. I want a pair like that.

            – Well, I lost my arms by falling under a tram. I had below elbow stumps for a while but my elbows were damaged and after a few months I found a surgeon who agreed to perform above elbow amputations. Unfortunately, the stumps became infected and so I had more amputations further up. Which is why I have very short stumps and these superb arms. They’re exactly the same carbon fibre as you have but it’s an experimental material. I think they look pretty good.

            – Mate, they look fantastic. Let’s drink to our stumps. Cheers!

They both watched each other’s contortions as they raised and locked their forearms, opened their hooks and grasped the tall glasses and re-engaged the forearm mechanisms. They drank several gulps and carefully returned the glasses to the tabletop.

            – Well done, mate.

            – It’s easy when you know how. If you could have your arms back, would you want them?

            – Ha! Difficult question. Fifteen years ago when I was injured I would have said yes, of course. But I think of these black carbon prostheses as my arms. They are my arms. I can use them and they never let me down. Of course, I can’t do everything I want to do – I can’t open a bottle of wine or use a pair of scissors but I always have someone there who can help.

            – You live with others? Same here. In fact, the five of us share loft space. I own the place and Guy and Ellis in the wheelchairs and Tom with the peg leg and hooks all moved in together. Tom fell in love with Ellis, who fell in love with Guy, so now Ellis and Guy are together, Tom and Chris are together and I’m on my own. Again.

            – Sounds complicated. I’d be with you if it were possible. I think you’re great. The way you handle your arms and the great body you have. You’re a real man’s man.

            – Gaz, thank you for saying so. I’d like to know you better. Can we keep in touch?

            – Sure. Give me your number. I want the kind of deep friendship which is possible only with another man. I don’t care so much for sex. I’ve been with guys a few times but it seems like more effort than it’s worth.

            – I know what you mean. Would you like to visit us for a few days after we get back?

            – Yes, I’d like that. We don’t live so far from each other. Hour’s drive.

            – Do you drive?

            – Yeah, I have an eMini with all the adaptations.

            – We’ll be home a week on Sunday if our timetables hold. Come the following week.

            –Love to! It’s a deal.

They hugged each other with their prosthetic arms and nuzzled their stubbled faces together.

 

Chris and Tom had found seats opposite each other and played a game of trying to avoid clashing their peg legs together under the table. The one who was hit had to buy the next round. It was a short but rewarding game.

 

Dusk fell and infrared heaters and led illuminations were switched on. The ex-servicemen did their best to outdrink the rest of their group accompanied by raucous laughter. One leg amputee caused an outburst when his prosthesis loosened mid-step and he took a tumble. Several beers were lost to misbehaving hooks, the drinkers relieved by having beer from other glasses poured into their own empty ones. Jim noticed how late it was and announced that it was time for them to make their way back to the hostel. Tom and Chris disengaged themselves from conversations with their new army mates and moved a little unsteadily to collect Ellis and Guy. Gary stood and Jim hugged him long and hard.

            – Good bye. Thank you for tonight. I want to see you again.

They made their way through the pub and across the street to the Metro. They caught the last train and the last cable car down to the promenade where the hostel stood overlooking the river.

            – Good evening, gentlemen! I hope you have had a good evening in town.

            – We’ve been with the DSF group. They may be some time yet.

            – I hope they have the sense to order taxis, in that case. What sort of condition were they in?

            – Shall we say they were feeling rather jolly.

            – Oh dear. Well, good night.

 

Taxis began arriving outside the hostel about an hour later. Wheelchairs were reassembled and occupied by semi-conscious users, two one-legged men staggered in holding on to the shoulders of armless men who held leg prostheses in their hooks. It was an undignified show but only the concierge saw them and he was amused rather than shocked. He knew from the hostel association’s annual newsletter that the DSF had been banned from one hostel and he could understand why they might be a nuisance. Personally, he felt that a bloke deserved a drink with his mates now and then.

 

Next morning dawned and the men awoke to hangovers which could have been worse if they were not still drunk. Doug was up first, donning his arms, sliding into his shallow leg stump sockets and belting himself in. He rocked his way out the door, glancing at Tom and Guy asleep and along the corridor to the wc. He had arrived later than the rest of the group and left earlier and felt that a bit of breakfast might ease his pain. It was gone eight. He waddled through the lobby and pulled himself up four steps to the cafeteria.

 

Chris awoke as sunshine struck his face. He pushed himself up and reached down for his pegleg. He found his shorts. The stump sock looked a little shabby but he pulled it on anyway, stood up and shoved the peg on. He glanced at the others and went to the bathroom for a quick wash. Satisfied, he pegged back to the dorm, found a clean T-shirt and strode to the cafeteria. Doug was already stuck in to his breakfast, sitting on a kitchen chair. He raised a hook in greeting.

            – Morning, Chris. Come and join me.

            – Will do. How are you feeling?

            – A bit rough but I’ve felt worse. Are the others still asleep?

            – Yeah.

Chris got himself a cheese roll and some coffee.

            – Don’t know what we’re going to do today. Hair of the dog, I wouldn’t be surprised. Why do we do this to ourselves, Doug?

            – I suppose because the fun outweighs the not-so-fun. Are you not wearing your arm today?

            – Couldn’t be bothered to put it on just for breakfast. I’ll have to wear it later when Ellis and Guy get up.

            – You’re pretty much their caretaker from what I’ve seen. Don’t you mind having to help them so much?

            – No. They’re my good mates. We were all injured about the same time. We work together and we live together. In fact, I live rent free in exchange for helping the others. Jim – with the above elbow hooks – owns the place and we have our separate little spaces but otherwise we’re always together. I was able-bodied when I moved in but I was inspired by seeing the stumps and prosthetics so I chose to have an arm and a leg off.

            – You’re joking!

            – No, not at all. I think you said yesterday how cool it is to have a hook and a peg leg. I think so too. I wouldn’t want to go back to being able-bodied even if I could. It’s far more rewarding to be an amputee and you meet a far better class of people.

            – Ha! So where did you go to be amputated?

            – There’s a bunch of medical students who are into amputation and they hobble people for the fun of it, as far as I can see. But they provide a service and know what they’re doing. My stumps are well-shaped and healthy. I like them very much.

            – Your peg looks great. You have the devil-may-care way about you. Nonchalant is the word. You walk about with that peg which everyone stares at and act like it’s the most normal thing in the world.       

            – Well, it is! It’s my leg! And you’re just as nonchalant, as you put it, as I am.

            – Yeah, I guess I am. How do you like my arms, by the way? I got them just before we left last week. I had them specially made.

            – They look fine. Do you mean how long they are? They’re quite a bit shorter than normal arms, aren’t they?

            – It’s so the hooks don’t drag along the ground when I walk. My stubbies are so fucking short.

            – You could lock them at ninety degrees, couldn’t you?

            – Yeah, but these are better like this. I can feed myself better with short arms, for example.

            – Or drink a couple of beers. As long as they still reach down for a wank, eh?

            – Well yeah, that was the main criteria.

            – Ha!

Tom turned up and raised his hooks when he saw Doug and Chris.

            – Good morning, you two. Mind if I join you?

            – Course not. How are you feeling?

            – Not bad considering. Ellis and Guy are still asleep. Jim must have got up. He wasn’t in bed.

Jim had woken up and gone to another dormitory where his newly found admirer Gary was rearranging his artificial arms on his bed.

            – Hiya! You ok? Don’t bother with those for a minute. I want to feel you.

            – Good to see you, man! Sight for sore eyes.

Gary was naked. His legs and body were unusually hirsute and his stumps were similarly covered in sleek black hair. His pelt covered any sign of scarring. To judge by appearances, Gary could have been born armless. He lifted his stumps to welcome Jim into his embrace.

            – Sit down.

Jim sat and the couple rolled back onto the bed, kissing and grasping at each other’s bodies with their meagre stumps. Gary had the advantage. He could touch the tips of his stumps across his chest, barely. Jim’s stumps were little more than bumps in comparison. Gary found them extremely erotic. Gary gripped Jim’s stubbled face between his stumps and looked deeply into his eyes.

            – I want to be with you, man. I want you.

            – We can be together. There’s a huge void in my life. I want you to fill it. Move in and live with me. Three couples together – the armless, the legless and the peg leggers. I’ve never met anyone I’d rather spend the rest of my life with than you, Gaz. I don’t want to live without your body, your scent, your face in my life.

            – Let’s do it. Let’s go there now. Leave the others here and let’s go to your place and have a few days together alone.

            – Genius! I better tell the others. Let’s get our arms on and have breakfast.

They sat up and noticed half a dozen amputees surrounding the bed, watching and listening to them, who broke into applause, some of them using a meat hand, bashing stump sockets together in celebration of the new relationship. Jim and Gary looked at them and back at each other and burst into laughter. Gary shrugged his arms on and Jim returned to his dorm to don his. Gary stood waiting by the door when Jim was ready. They walked to the cafeteria with a prosthesis around each other’s waist.

 

Chris finished his breakfast, had another cup of coffee and decided it was time to wake the sleeping beauties. He excused himself. The hostel insisted that every guest was off the premises by ten thirty and there was only an hour to go to get the guys ready. He walked into the dorm and saw that Guy was awake, while Ellis was still motionless.

            – Good morning, Guy. We’d better get going. We have to be out of here soon.

            – Give me my aids.

He placed Guy’s hearing aids gently into his ears and shook Ellis. There was no response. Chris leaned closer and smelt vomit. Ellis was clearly not breathing and his skin was at room temperature.

            – No! Oh, Ellis! Guy, he’s dead!

Chris collapsed onto the bed and wept. Several ex-soldiers sprang into life and notified the concierge that there was a body in room twelve. An ex-medic walked across to the bed on stubbies and verified the death.

            – Choked on his vomit in the night by the looks. Nothing to be done.

Someone lifted Guy’s torso from the bed, helped him into his socket, donned his arm prostheses and lifted him into his wheelchair. Word spread fast. Doug was distraught for the beautiful man he had admired the previous day and arrived at his top speed. He hoisted himself onto a bed and hugged Guy with his carbon fibre arms. Guy wept and Doug searched for a body part which was not encased in carbon fibre. There was none. He nuzzled Guy.

            – Don’t worry, mate. We’ll take care of it.

            – He was my best friend.

            – I know. I know.

            – I feel so alone.

            – No, you’re not alone, Guy. I’m here. I’m with you.

 

Ellis’s body and his prosthetic devices were removed by ambulance men who were shocked to see so many amputees. They carried Ellis out on a stretcher and the room was silent but for Guy sobbing. The concierge arrived to announce that the hotel would not close at ten thirty and that the guests could stay inside for as long as they wished. Ellis was pronounced deceased by a doctor who signed the death certificate, cause of death: asphyxia, and Ellis’s body was transported to a morgue. His parents were notified by the police and began to make arrangements for the funeral of their severely crippled only son.

 

The remaining four met to commiserate with each other and agreed that their pub crawl was at an end. The journey home was four hundred kilometres and they were grateful that they were in a major city with rapid connections south. Jim asked Gary to accompany him. Doug asked Guy if he wanted Doug to accompany him. Guy nodded and raised his artificial arms as if to hug. Two hours later, Jim and Gary, Tom and Chris, and Guy and Douglas were speeding to the capital where they transferred to a local train for their home town. They arrived back in two e-taxis and rode up to the loft they had left only a week ago.

 

R E G E N E R A T I O N

 

Life had to go on. The two strangers surveilled the view from the window, pointing out various interesting buildings. Doug’s tiny stubbies barely allowed him to peer above the lower rim of the window.

            – I’d lift you up, mate, but – you know.

            – No problem. I’ll see it later.

They turned away and moved closer to their mourning friends. Guy had headed directly to his bedroom pod and wept. After fifteen minutes, Doug waddled carefully to the bedroom’s entrance and looked in on Guy. His hearing aids were on the floor and his face was buried in a pillow. Where the hell could Doug touch him to comfort him? Doug placed a steel hook on Guy’s shell and pulled the torso towards him.

            – You are not alone. I am here for you.

Guy reached out with a prosthetic arm and tried to hug Douglas’s neck.

 

Jim’s new mate had no emotional connection to Ellis, nor to the rest of the guys. Chris was obviously shocked by the way things had turned so sour but, as Gary knew, it was Chris’s job to keep the place running and after a quiet word in Chris’s ear, they decided to go grocery shopping together. Breakfast stuff and a few things for supper. Hamburgers would be fine. Chris called the food delivery service and asked them to resume early, the following day. The two armless men walked to Chris’s van in the far reaches of the car park. Chris removed his peg and they drove to their usual store and bought bread, coffee, milk, cereal, cold cuts and sliced cheese. On the way back, Gary bought half a dozen cheeseburgers. They remained uneaten.

 

Three days later, Jim informed the authorities that Ellis Baldwin was deceased and therefore no longer a resident of the loft. However, two new lodgers had moved in. Douglas Butler and Gary Collins. The clerk expressed his condolences and thanked Jim for his quick action. Both Doug and Gary had some business to attend to, giving notice of terminating their rent agreements and moving their possessions, mainly clothing and electronics, to the loft. Chris helped Gary move first from the west of the country and, at the end of the week, drove Doug seventy kilometres to empty his flat. They returned with his impressive selection of artificial arms and legs and a few pairs of cargo pants and T-shirts in a black bin bag.

 

Mr and Mrs Baldwin did not contact Jim or anyone else in the loft. A funeral must have taken place but they did not know when or where. The Baldwins took possession of their son’s torso socket and artificial arms and burned them. Twisted steel cables and two discoloured hooks remained in the ashes. They reassured each other that Ellis’s suffering was finally over and put their monstrous son from their minds. He lived on only in the memories of his four flat-mates who had loved him.

 

Some kind of normality gradually returned. Doug turned into a brother figure for Guy rather than a lover although they slept together in Guy’s bed. Doug took over a lot of Guy’s personal care which Chris had done. He was skilful with his prostheses after many year’s experience. Gary and Jim shared the same disability and became less reliant on Chris. Tom and Chris spent much of their time together and also shared a bed. There was an empty bedroom pod.

 

Work resumed after the month-long holiday. Jim checked the server and intranet communications and the work stations were tidied of magazines and irrelevant papers. The first day began with a two hour video session between Antex Games and the loft. They held a minute’s silence in memory of Ellis. The boss discussed productivity and profitability, the chief revealed three new projects for the next two quarters and by eleven, work was already underway on a version of Soccer Shocker for the American market. It featured the same process of creating opposing teams who then fought it out on the football field – American rules. Much of the code from Soccer Shocker could be re-purposed. It was an easy way to get back into a working routine.

 

Gary and Doug kept themselves occupied by running a well-established web forum for disabled servicemen and their friends. Doug was too disabled to get outside employment but Gary always had an ear to the ground for a job which a bilateral arm amputee might be suitable for. Both of the ex-servicemen had generous disability pensions from two sources so a job for them was a way of still feeling useful to society.

 

Summer faded. In late October, Tom received a message from Trevor Harris, the young bar tender wannabe who had asked them about voluntary amputations. The message read have found a job near your home. can we meet this weekend? Tom checked with the others and replied welcome! riverside 7. Trevor messaged again on Saturday morning on my way. 20 minutes. Trev.

 

The buzzer sounded and Chris went downstairs to fetch Trevor. He opened the door and Trevor stood there beaming.

            – Hi Chris!  Good to see you again. I hope you don’t mind me barging in like this.

            – Of course not. You’re very welcome. Come in!

Chris held the door open and Trevor stepped inside. He had no right boot but his jeans concealed whatever was underneath. Chris immediately suspected a peg leg but made no comment. They rode the lift upstairs and entered the loft. Tom and Doug had managed between them to make a pot of coffee, found some biscuits and arranged them on the sofa table. Tom strutted over and shook Trevor’s hand.

            – Good to see you again, Trevor. Come and sit down. You’re just in time for coffee.

Trevor walked over to the sofa, joining Jim and Gary. He introduced himself, having met neither before, and explained how he knew Chris and Tom. The steel hooks he had shaken were causing him an erection. He sat down on the sofa and the peg leg on his right stump caused his trouser leg to drape narrowly over the peg. It stuck straight out. Tom stood beside Chris with a hook on his shoulder and they gawped at the peg legged guest.

            – You went and did it! Don’t keep us in suspense, Trevor. Get your jeans off and let’s have a look!

He stood up and loosened his baggy jeans. They dropped to the floor revealing a black carbon fibre socket and a steel pylon terminating in an oversized back rubber ferrule. It was fifteen centimetres high. He stepped out of the jeans and walked halfway across the loft and back.

            – You look fantastic! Well done, mate. I thought you might go ahead with it. I didn’t expect it so soon though.

            – Well, the thing is, I was expecting to go to uni this autumn but it turned out that the course I wanted was cancelled because the professor couldn’t get a visa or something. So I had the chance to have my leg off much sooner than I expected.

            – You went to Menard House, right? Who did the amputation?

            – Judson. And Jame helped. I don’t really know what they each did. I was pretty much out of it. I had the peg made by a private orthotics company who weren’t overly concerned with the how and why of the amputation. I spent all the money I’d saved up for uni on it. So now I need a job. And that’s why I’m here.

            – Go on!

            – Well, I’ve got an interview this afternoon at five in the next town. It’s a bistro sort of restaurant called OneOff and all the staff are one-legged.

            – Really? Are you sure?

            – Oh yeah. They all wear peg legs too.

            – How come we’ve never heard of that? So anyway, you’ve got an interview.

            – Yeah and if I get the job, I’ll need a place to shack up. I can’t commute from where I live now. It’s too far. So what I wanted to ask you is – do you have any idea how I could go about finding a flat around here?

Jim spoke up.

            – How old are you, Trevor?

            – I’ll be twenty in December.

            – OK, so you’re legally an adult. Good. What are you doing after your interview?

            – I’ll catch the train back home and wait to hear from the OneOff restaurant.

            – Do you have to be back home for any reason?

            – No, not especially.

            – In that case you’re welcome to stay here overnight. I want to have a word with you later. Don’t look so alarmed! It’s nothing bad.

The rest of the group had a pretty good idea of what Jim had in mind. It would be cool to have a fresh-faced young peg legger join them. He would get Tom’s pod and Chris and Tom could share together. Tom was with Chris almost every night anyway.

            – Chris, I’m very intrigued by this OneOff place. Would you mind giving me and Trevor a lift there this afternoon? You didn’t have anything planned, did you?

            – Only getting your supper ready.

            – They can make sandwiches if they get hungry. Have you got a minute, Chris? Let’s go in the kitchen, mate.

They strolled over and sat on two stools facing each other. Jim spoke in a low voice.

            – You sort of know this guy, don’t you?

            – Yeah, Tom and I were talking to him about our peg legs when we were in… oh, I’ve forgotten the name of the place. Anyway, he was curious and very aroused by Tom’s peg. Came in his pants, poor bugger.

            – And you gave him the Menard House contact number?

            – No! I took his number and forwarded it to Judson. Judson then contacted Trevor.

            – OK. I was worried that they might get pissed about their details being spread around. We signed a contract of confidentiality, remember? So, about Trevor. Do you think he might like staying with us for a while?

            – He’d love it. Of course he would.

            – OK. How would you feel if I gave him Tom’s pod? You and Tom are usually together, right? If Tom was permanently in with you, would you mind?

            – No, not at all.

            – Good. What do you say, then? Shall we invite Trevor to live here?

            – I think he’d be very grateful and it would fun to have him around. He’s a likeable sort of guy. And with three limbs, he’d be able to help the rest of us, too.

            – I’ll ask the others what they think before I make my mind up. It has to be a unanimous decision, though.

 

They spent the next few hours socialising. Trevor talked about his summer and some of the interesting sightings he had made. He was excited to be able to talk about his taboo fetishes with a group of men who knew exactly what he was talking about and had helped him achieve his goal. They watched a few amputee videos on the massive screen and at four, Jim suggested it might be a good time to make tracks.

            – You two go down to the van. I’ll be there in a minute.

He watched the two peglegged men walk across to the door and leave.

            – Right. We’ve seen Trevor for a few hours. What do you think of him? Likeable guy? Might be useful to have around? I want to know if anyone has any objection whatsoever if I ask him to move in with us if he lands this job he’s going for. Doug and Gaz, are you OK with it? Guy, do you understand?

            – Yes, I like Trevor. He can come.

            – Good. I’ve already spoken with Chris. Tom, do you object to moving out of your pod and in with Chris? Trevor would get your present pod.

            – No, that’s fine with me.

            – Yeah, you old lecher! I bet it is. So are we unanimous? Trev the Peg can move in as soon as he likes if he wants to. Any objections? No? Right! We have a new lodger. I won’t tell him until he’s had his interview. See you later.

 

Jim went downstairs and joined Chris and Trevor in the van. Chris had taken his peg off but Trevor had to sit sideways. His peg leg was a length of steel cylinder without hinges or screw mechanisms for easy removal. Chris drove off and Trevor concentrated on Jim’s steely prosthetic arms and hooks for the fifteen minute trip. OneOff was easy to find on the High Street. They had half an hour to wait before five o’clock

            – We won’t go in yet. It’s good to be early but not stupidly early. Let’s sit here for twenty minutes. It looks a pretty impressive place, doesn’t it? Very futuristic. What other jobs have you done, Trevor, besides the bar tender thing?

            – The summer before I left school, I did six weeks in a shopping mall selling mobile phones.

            – Was that fun?

            – Well, the job wasn’t all that fun. It was just explaining the same thing over and over again fifty times an hour. But the others who worked there were great, lots of fun.

            – You get on well with people, don’t you?

            – Yeah, I suppose I do.

            – I think there’s someone inside who’s spotted us. He’s waving at us with a hook from a wheelchair. Let’s see what he wants.

They climbed out and stepped across the pavement to the doorway. Chris stuck a wheelchair symbol on the van’s windscreen. Jim pulled the door open and ushered Trevor inside.

            – Come in, you two! No need to wait outside. You could wait over there, if you like.

Conrad gestured toward OneOff’s Tomato chairs.

            – You must be Trevor Harris. Nice to meet you.

Trevor shook Conrad’s proffered hook and took in the man’s utter leglessness. An erection sprang into motion.

            – Let’s go over to my corner and have a chat. How long have you been an amputee?

            – Nearly four weeks.

Conrad stopped pushing his wheelchair and looked at Trevor in astonishment.

            – And you’re already on a peg leg? You are amazing. Right, here we are. Now, first of all, I can tell you that you are half way to getting the job because you have the main qualification and requirement. A peg leg. All our staff wear peg legs. Some of the guys are double amputees and also wear a prosthetic leg while they’re working. We have a couple of guys who take their prostheses off just before they leave and put on a second peg leg. They use crutches to get home.

            – That sounds incredible.

            – Yeah, I suppose it does when you think about it. Anyway, one of the crew has fallen in love with an older man and is moving up north to live with him. And so we have a vacancy. Tell me about where you were working last summer.

Trevor mentioned expecting to go to university after the summer season. He mentioned the old pub’s heritage and sounded proud to have worked there. Conrad listened to the cadence of Trevor’s voice – was he keen to explain his story or just trying to fill time? He made eye contact occasionally in an attractive manner, not flirtatious but checking to see if he still had his listener’s attention. Conrad was impressed. He asked a few questions and brought up the subject of Trevor’s recent amputation.

            – Was your injury an accident or was it accidentally-on-purpose?

            – Mmm, well, I was given the address of a surgery where I could have my leg amputated no questions asked.

            – Oh, so you’re a voluntary amputee?

            – Yes, exactly that.

            – Well, I’m not going to pass any judgment on that, other than to say I approve entirely. I am going to offer you a job at OneOff, Trevor. Here is our contract which explains our working hours, rates of pay and everything else you need to legally understand and approve. If you agree to the conditions and still want to join us after you’ve read it, fill in your personal details on the last page and sign it. When can you start? Are you free or currently employed?

            – I’m free. The only problem is that I don’t have a flat here yet.

            – Oh. Well, don’t worry about that just yet. I’m going to have a chat with your mates for a bit, so take your time and read that through thoroughly. Back soon.

Conrad wheeled himself around the bar and across to where Chris and Jim sat chatting.

            – Hello again. I think we’re nearly ready over there. I’ve offered him the job if he wants it after reading all the nitty-gritty. I don’t suppose you are looking for a job, are you?

He looked hopefully at Jim.

            – No, I already have one, thanks. Why do you ask?

            – Well, I know of a job similar to the one Trevor is applying for and it’s open only to hook-users. It might have suited you very well.

            – Now that’s interesting because I know another bilateral who might well be keen on such a job. Is it somewhere local?

            – Yes, it’s a position in our sister bar on Station Road. The main requirement to work there is one or two arm amputations and using hooks while at work. You know someone, you say? Would he like to come for an interview?

            – I’ll tell him. Let me take your phone number.

            – It’s actually run by my partner. I’ll give you his number in a minute. By the way, Trevor mentioned he needs a flat locally. That might be a problem.

            – Ha! He doesn’t know yet. We live in a commune in a large loft which I own in the neighbouring borough. I am going to offer him a flat share with us as soon as this interview is ready. I wanted to wait to tell him so as not to get him too excited beforehand.

            – That’s very good news. There’s a regular train service between the towns. Several of our staff rely on it every day. I think I’ll check how he’s doing. Would you like a drink, by the way?

            – No thanks, we’re fine.

            – Right.

Conrad wheeled back to his corner where Trevor was just signing the paper with an unusual and elegant flourish under his name. He smiled and pushed the paper towards Conrad who took it and read Trevor’s details.

            – You’ve put your current address. It’s OK. Let me know if there’s a change of address. So you’re happy with the hours and pay?

            – More than happy. Thank you very much.

Steve Taylor strode in, ready to start his shift.

            – Oh Steve! Meet Trevor Harris. Latest staff member. Trevor, this is Steve Taylor and he’s the senior of two foremen here. Any problems, Steve will help you sort them out. Now, when do you want to start? How about next week on Tuesday at five? Try to be here about a quarter before opening time because you need to change into the uniform. Steve will explain it all. And give him a key token too, please Steve.

            – Next Tuesday at five. Brilliant!

            – That’s it then, Trevor. See you next week. Oh, just before you go, give this to your armless friend.

He handed over a promotional brochure for OneOff and Thirstysomething which listed all the possible contact details. Steve asked Trevor to follow him and they went to the locker room where Trevor got a OneOff hoodie and a key token. Other staff members changing out of their street clothes looked at him, noticed his peg and smiled. Steve and Trevor rode the freight elevator down to the underground passage.

            – This is the only staff entrance, Trevor. That key won’t work in the front door. The entrance to the tunnel is on the next street along. Let’s go and have a look so you’ll recognise it.

The two young men moved quickly and rhythmically on their peg legs.

            – Have you worked in a bar before?

            – Yes, all last summer. It was a lot of fun.

            – It always depends on what sort of workmates you have. I think you’ll enjoy yourself here. Some great people and everyone wears a peg leg. Or two. Well, have a look around so you know where this entrance is. It’s not difficult to spot, but you wouldn’t necessarily know where it leads. Let’s get back. I have to start work. Bring a pair of shorts with you on Tuesday. Any sort, cut-offs or cargo shorts. Our uniform is that white hoodie, a pair of shorts and a peg leg. See you next week, Trevor. Welcome to OneOff.

            – Thank you, Steve. Bye.

Trevor collected Jim and Chris and they rode back to the loft.

 

            – How did it go?

            – I got the job and I start next Tuesday. All I need now is a place to live.

            – Trevor, I might as well put you out of your misery. We put it to the vote earlier and voted unanimously that we want you to move in with us as soon as you like. Come over here and I’ll show you your bedroom. Oh, Tom’s already cleared his stuff out. That was quick. How do you like it? So there’s a closet over there for your clothes and just out here is space for things like wheelchairs and crutches and spare peg legs. But I don’t suppose you have a large collection of those just yet, do you?

            – No.

Trevor choked up. Tears of happiness flowed freely and he laughed.

            – Sorry. Thank you. Thank you.

            – You’re literally welcome. I think we can find some clean sheets for you and a towel if you want a shower. I wonder if Chris would help you with removals. You could do that tomorrow. Let’s ask him. Chris? Do you mind helping Trevor with his move tomorrow? I don’t think he has a lot of furniture.

            – No, of course I don’t mind. We’ll get that done and you’ll be all set and ready for… did you say Tuesday? Funny day to start.

            – They have every Monday off. The whole place is closed.

            – That’s handy. Listen, I don’t mind giving you a lift there every so often or collecting you at night if you have to work late and miss the train, so don’t be afraid to ask. It’s my job. It’s the sort of thing I’m here for. OK?

            – OK. Thank you, Chris. You’ve all been so kind. My life has changed in an afternoon.

            – And all because you lost a leg. Funny that.

 

Jim sat down with Gary and handed him the brochure Conrad had forwarded.

            – He said there’s a vacancy at this Thirstysomething place.

            – Is that really what it’s called?

            – Looks like it. Anyway, if you feel like getting back into the swing of things, why don’t you message this guy Colin and ask to meet him?

            – You wouldn’t mind me being away every evening?

            – I wouldn’t mind but I would miss you. But I reckon you have to do something. I know it’s hard being in here all day every day but at least we have our work.

            – Alright, I will.

He tapped out a message and sent it to Colin’s personal phone number. ex-serviceman 38 yrs currently free bilat hook user some experience. wish interview re bar tender position. gary collins

Colin was sitting in his corner as usual and made a couple of searches on the net. He found two references to a Gary Collins who had lost his arms when a rocket blasted through the vehicle he was driving. That was a few years go. Just a kid. Pensioned off with honours and two prosthetic arms. Perfect! He replied immediately. welcome monday 11:00 colin colby. Gary lifted his phone up so Jim could read it.

            – Well done, mate. I reckon the job’s yours.

Chris offered to drive Gary to Thirstysomething but Gary said he wanted to try out the train.

            – You’ll have to catch a tram to the station this end, Gary. But it’s only a couple of minute’s walk at the other end.

 

Chris fetched his van and parked in front of the old warehouse. Trevor wore an old pair of cut-off jeans with a hoody and hopped downstairs using his peg leg as a walking stick. He’d put it on after they arrived at his flat. Chris had unscrewed his pylon and sat wearing just the socket.

            – All set and ready? Got your keys? Tell me the address again and we’ll see what the sat nav suggests. Yeah, exactly how I was going to get there. Sixty-three kilometres. Right, hold on, here we go. I just thought. If there’s any stuff you need to buy like sheets or towels, we could stop off at a shopping centre and pick some stuff up.

            – Let’s see what I need after I pack. I’ve got some big bin bags. They’ll do, I should think.

            – Don’t most people move using bin bags these days?

            – I’ve got some clothes and a set of sheets which need washing, a duvet, and some books.

            – What sort of books?

            – Books on comparative linguistics, mainly. That’s what I was going to study at uni.

            – What’s that all about?

            – It’s studying different language groups and how their histories and development inter-relate. The basic idea is that by comparing lots of different languages you can sift out what they all have in common and that helps us understand how the language centre in the human brain works.

            – Sounds interesting. And the course was cancelled?

            – Yes. The professor is from Leipzig University but was refused a visa.

            – Sounds a bit odd. Well, maybe the course might start later.

            – I don’t think I’d attend now, even if it does. I’ve got used to the idea of not going. And I spent all my savings on my peg leg. And as from yesterday, things are looking up.

            – They are. You’re very lucky. A nice job and nice home with nice friends and a very nice new stump. Do you like it, Trevor? Does it make you feel horny when you touch it?

            – Yes, it does!

            – It drives me nuts when Tom plays with mine. It’s like having an extra dick. He can make me cum without even touching my cock.

            – I’ve not really even shown my stump to anyone else.

            – Well, I’ll take a look at it when we get to your bedroom, if you like.

Trevor looked at Chris in surprise. Chris glanced back with a grin.

            – It’s alright, Trev. I’m not going to pounce on you or anything.

            – I’ve never been with anyone before.

            – Oh really? Are you a virgin?

            – Yes, I suppose I am.

            – Nothing wrong with that. Well, I won’t be the one to take your virginity unless you ask very, very nicely. But I could still show you how it feels when someone else fondles your stump. Nothing sexy about that, right? Haha!

            – So many new things all of a sudden. It’s like I’m living a dream.

            – I’m glad you’re coming to live with us. I like you a lot. I liked you back in the summer too. You’re quite good-looking and I love the way your beard grows. It’s very unusual for a guy your age to be able to grow whiskers so high on his cheeks. I reckon if you decided to grow a beard, you’d have the best beard out of all of us.

            – I think it’s too miscoloured to look like a beard. It’s blond here, brown there, ginger somewhere else.

            – Man, you could grow a prize-winning beard if it’s multicoloured. They look stunning. Go on, Trev. Grow a beard! If it looks shitty, someone will tell you. You’re not even twenty yet, so a nice beard will make you look a bit older.

            – Are you sure?

            – Of course I’m sure.

            – Alright then. No more shaving for me!

            – Give it about six weeks at first. Then you’ll have a jury of your six flat mates to vote on whether you should continue or shave it all off. I’m sure they won’t mind at your workplace. What’s it called, Leg Off?

            – OneOff. Except I heard that some of the guys have two legs off and they use two peg legs! Can you imagine?

            – I’d love to see that. You’ll have to bring one of them home for supper one night and we’ll video him walking around. Christ, two peg legs!

 

They arrived at Trevor’s house which he shared with two other young students. After putting their peg legs on, they stepped inside and went upstairs. Trevor’s bedroom was about the size of a walk-in closet.

            – Wait here, Chris. I’ll see if I can get everything into my backpack.

            – Whoah! That’s a big one.

            – I went hiking in the Austrian Alps three years ago with some friends. We had to pack everything into only one bag we could carry and my dad bought me this.

Chris held it open while Trevor dropped neatly folded underwear and T-shirts into it. Two pairs of jeans, a pair of smart trousers, an MA-1 jacket and a yellow raincoat. And a handful of disintegrating cut-off jeans.

            – That’s it. I don’t want to take these sheets with me.

            – You could put your books onto the sheet and fold them up. It would be easier to carry them. We can put them in the recycling at the loft.

            – Good idea. Let’s do that.

Trevor sorted quickly through his books on linguistics and chose three. The rest were paperbacks. They could stay. He piled a few unwanted items of clothing and miscellaneous bric-a-brac onto his bed and folded them into the other sheet.

            – This is junk. I’ll take it downstairs and then we can go.

He poked his head around the living room door and said goodbye to his flat mates. He had already paid his share of the rent until the end of the month, so they would not be left out of pocket.

            – Good luck, Trev. See you some time.

Chris lifted the rucksack and stepped carefully down the stairs, dragging it behind him.

            – All set and ready? Sure? Let’s go. We can stop at Southern Hyper to get some new sheets and towels and stuff, OK?

            – I don’t know if I can afford any just yet.

            – Don’t worry about that. My treat.

            – Thank you, Chris.

 

Observant Saturday afternoon shoppers were astonished to see two young men limping on peg legs in the haberdashery department. Chris picked out a duvet and a set of Egyptian cotton sheets and pillow slip with an intriguing op art print. Two bath towels, four hand towels, an electric toothbrush and a micro-led digital wall clock which they admired. Chris paid the hundred and ninety with his debit card and the pair of them carried their haul to the van.

            – That’s very kind of you. Thank you so much.

            – Don’t mention it, mate. Think of it as being a welcome home present. Oh! I just remembered!

            – What? Did we forget something?

            – Yes we did. We forgot to service your stump.

            – We can do it later. Just come to my bedroom!

            – That sounds promising. I think we are going to get on very well together, Trevor.

 

Monday, ten forty-five. Gary walked along Station Road to Thirstysomething. For the first time in over a decade, he felt nervous. He shrugged his arms under the weight of his leather jacket to settle them and pressed a door bell at the top of the restaurant’s steps, marked with a wheelchair symbol. He saw a blue light flashing inside. Moments later, the door downstairs opened and a good-looking guy wearing a hook  called up to him.

            – Hi there! Are you Gary Collins?

            – Yes.

            – Then you’re in the right place. Come on down. How do you do? I’m Alex Hubbard, the foreman. The boss is waiting for you. I’ll join in the interview too.

            – It’s good to meet you, Alex.

Alex made sure the door relocked and  escorted Gary to Colin’s corner table. Colin’s leglessness was not apparent. Gary saw a man a few years younger than himself wearing an arm similar to his own smiling at him in welcome.

            – I’m glad you could come so soon, Gary – is it OK to call you by your first name?

            – Yes, of course.

            – I see you pass the first test – do you use a hook?

            – I’ve had these for fifteen, almost sixteen years.

            – So you can use them pretty well, I’d imagine? I’ve only had mine for two years, if that.

            – Yes, I get by. There’s not much I want to do I need help with these days.

            – I’m aware of how you lost your arms. I’m tremendously impressed by your service and recovery.

            – Thank you for saying so.

            –  Well, one of our mates is leaving us, or actually, yesterday was his last shift. So we have a vacancy for a bar tender who uses hooks. All our staff are amputees or double amputees and our condition for employment is that they use hooks while at work, the old fashioned body-operated style. So no problem there. Have you worked as a bar tender before?

            – Yes. The summer after I left school, I worked at the airport for six months behind a bar in the departure lounge. There were always two others on shift and we were alternately rushed off our feet making all manner of cocktails and exotic drinks for people from all over the world and the rest of the time was spent slicing lemons and limes, well, you know how it is. But it was fun most of the time and I enjoyed myself. Then I joined the Forces and they whisked me off to Afghanistan. I was there for two years until this happened.

He lifted his forearms.

            – How do you feel about your amputations?

            – I was asked the same question a couple of days ago, actually. I feel that these are my arms. I feel void, missing something, when I wake up in the mornings. Then I shrug on these prosthetic arms and I’m not only ready to go but I feel whole, complete with my carbon arms. The steel hooks are the hands I know and trust. I can’t even remember how I operated my flesh hands.

            – So you like the way you are?

            – Yes I do. I wouldn’t go back to flesh arms even if it were possible.

            – It doesn’t seem likely in the near future, does it?

            – No, it doesn’t. I wouldn’t like to live in a world where such a thing is possible and I had to make such a decision. I guess I just love having hooks.

            – Are you above or below elbow?

            – Bilateral above.

            – Really? You surprise me. Well look, Gary. I want to see you in action, so if you can go behind the bar with Alex and serve me a couple of drinks, I can see how well you can operate. Is that alright?

            – Sure, of course.

            – Alex mate, I need some help here.

            –On my way.

Alex lifted Colin’s torso socket off the flat stool specially made for him and new reciprocating legs on his stubbies dropped down ready for action. Colin shifted his weight from left to right and the stubbies shifted forward a few centimetres with each cycle. Slowly Colin manoeuvred himself across to the bar and Alex lifted him onto his other custom-made stool. He was sitting securely at the same height as any other customer.

            – Is everything ready, Alex?

            – I think so. It should be.

            – Right, Gary. I’d like a G&T, please.

Alex pointed out where the gin bottles were stored. The tonic was obviously in the fridge. Both items were opposite where Colin was sitting and he watched Gary manipulate what he needed to with interest. He was the first bilateral above elbow amputee on the team, assuming he could pass this test. Gary bent and picked up a bottle of gin, unopened. It had a screw top, sealed.

            – I need some help with this, Alex. Can you put the top between your forearm and your cuff? Hold it there and press and turn your body to the right.

Gary held on to the bottle with both hooks and turned to the left. The seal cracked open.

            – I have never seen that done before. Unbefuckinglievable.

Gary grinned at Colin and said High Five! to Alex. He took a bottle of Schweppes out of the fridge and held it in both hooks. He opened the cap in one of the openers spread all along on the underside of the bar and poured half its contents into the glass of gin. He released his left hook with a shrug, placed the bottle of tonic on the counter, grasped the drink and served it to Colin.

            – Your G&T, sir. Would you like ice?

            – No thanks. No need to gild the lily. Gary, congratulations. That was extremely impressive. I want to offer you the job and welcome you to Thirstysomething. Let’s go back to my corner and you can read through our contract. There is one other thing I should mention.

            – What’s that?

            – We get a lot of gays in here. Leathermen especially – you know, guys who get off by dressing up in leather jackets and trousers and shirts and everything. Have you got a problem with that?

            – Not at all. I don’t identify myself as gay but having said that, I have just moved in with another bilat bloke. We have a deep respect and friendship. But it’s not sexual.

            – Good enough for me.

 

Gary’s contract was identical to that which Trevor had signed two days previously. Mondays always free, five to midnight except on weekends. Another day off during the week, at random. Uniform of hooks over T-shirt and any decent pants, jeans or cargoes. The wages were impressive, other conditions were generous.

            – If you can live with that, Gary, please fill in your particulars and sign it.

Gary reached into his cargo pants for his pen and watched as his hook found and grasped it. His handwriting was slow but legible. Colin would have sound-recorded his details for someone with a meat hand to complete except he was fascinated by seeing Gary block printing using only slight movements from his shoulders. Finally, he signed it with a flourish.

            – I hope you can make this out.

            – It looks typewritten. Welcome to Thirstysomething, Gary. Can you start tomorrow at five? You’ll need to be here at about four forty-five to get changed. Bring a pair of jeans or something which you can leave here. We’ll give you your uniform tomorrow evening.

            – A T-shirt, right? I saw the photos in your brochure.

            –Exactly right. We want our customers to see all the hardware our staff is wearing at all times. If I may say so, you have a particularly handsome set on you. Welcome Gary!  It’s good you could join us. Would you like a G&T to celebrate?

Colin nodded at the drink Gary had just made.

            – A drink might be appropriate. Many thanks!

In no more time than it would take a non-amputee customer, Gary pulled his forearm to a suitable angle, locked it and opened the hook. He grasped the glass and shrugged. The forearm rose towards his face. He altered the position of his head slightly and murmured Cheers. And tasted his G&T.

 

Gary took his leave and strolled back to the station. He was elated and excited. Perhaps for the first time since his maiming he would be able to fit in with new workmates and not stand out as a freak.

 

Jim, Guy and Tom looked up from their work station as Gary entered. They could see from his grin that he had landed the job. They congratulated him and turned back to their work. Gary joined Doug on the sofa and told him in a low voice about his new job and his severely disabled new boss. They watched an eighty year old documentary about the post-war manufacture of artificial limbs before Chris announced lunch was ready. Later in the evening, the seven amputees raised a glass to each other, their new jobs, the future, and Chez Moignons. It was good to be home.

 

 

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