Top & Tail

 

TOP & TAIL

A perplexing tale of deviant love by strzeka

 

Fred Roberts was asleep when Henry Price was brought to the adjacent bed. The loud whispers from the nurses and porters seeped into his sleep and he dreamed they were daring him to run away. He turned to escape but his body was stuck in place as if he were encased in concrete up to his waist. He thrashed around in panic and awoke with a cry.

            – Take it easy, Fred. It’s alright. You were dreaming.

            – Oh. Sorry. It seemed so real.

            – Dreams do. Go back to sleep. We just brought you some company but it’s still early, so go back to sleep.

Fred turned his body with his arms and went back to sleep.

 

It was unusual for the amputee ward to have two such young patients at the same time. The dreary and predictable rotation of obese middle-aged diabetics who lost first one leg and then the other a couple of years later was rarely interrupted these days. Legless Fred, crippled for life at sixteen, would awaken to find newly armless Henry Price, even more severely disabled at fifteen, in the neighbouring bed and he might have someone to talk to other than the morose diabetics.

 

Fred woke again after a couple of hours. He relieved himself into his pissbag. It always felt wrong to lay in bed and piss but he should be used to it by now. It would soon be three weeks since he had arrived with severely damaged legs after standing in a vat of dry ice for twelve hours, supported by a frame as his tissues died. His surgeon recognised the cause of his injuries and had no sympathy whatsoever for the youth. Without exploring the viability of tissue nearer the boy’s knees, he amputated both legs near the pelvis which resulted in impractical short stumps only ten centimetres long. If the boy had wanted to be legless, let it be so. Henry felt his rigid erection and rubbed his palms around the head of his cock. He lowered his hands and rubbed the round bandaged ends of his short thigh stumps. He was going to look completely legless in a wheelchair. His penis pulsed and stiffened even more. Legless in a wheelchair! Always! He had had a painful time and he had heard angry surgeons and other medical staff admonishing his recklessness but he paid them no attention. He had stumps at last and that was all that mattered. He looked across to the patient who had woken him in the night.

 

Henry slept on. He was on his back, unconsciously wary of turning onto his side. It would be many weeks until he could sleep on his side again. His fresh arm stumps would protest at any and every pressure. Fred looked at the profile and tried to imagine what he looked like from the front. But the profile was nice. Fred twisted his body around and lay awake looking at the profile with the long eyelashes. And the space where an arm should be. He hoped that the guy had not lost his wanking hand.

 

It would be time for breakfast in twenty minutes. Fred picked up his phone and turned it on to look at the headlines. A big earthquake in Iran. Floods in Italy. Race riots in Sweden. The government promised to build a million small apartments across the country during the next year. That would be nice, to have a brand new apartment and roll around inside in a wheelchair. He flicked over and watched some TikTok clips with the sound low. There were always some funny videos of dogs, huskies usually. A nurse walked past and looked in at his new neighbour. He was still out cold.

            – Is breakfast on its way?

            – Good morning, Fred. Yes, they’re just coming. Five minutes or so.

 

Fred soon had his porridge and yoghurt and a cup of warm water with a teabag in it. He put the tray lower down the bed which was conveniently flat. He could hardly kick it off the bed accidentally. The guy in the next bed was fidgeting. Waking up, probably. Fred watched him again. His eyes opened and they made eye contact.

            – Hello. Are you awake?

            – Mmmh, what time is it?

            – Quarter past seven, Wednesday morning. D’you want some breakfast?

            – I want a drink of water. I’m not hungry.

Fred pressed the call button and a nurse shortly appeared. Fred pointed at his neighbour.

            – He wants a drink.

            – Oh good, you’re awake. I’ll bring you some breakfast.

She returned with a tray in one hand and a carafe of water in the other. She held the glass so the guy could drink from it and began to feed him some porridge.

            – Eat as much as you can, Henry. It’s a long while to lunchtime.

Henry slowly got through the meal and said he needed to pee. The nurse explained that he was fitted with a catheter and he could urinate when he needed to. It would go into a bag hanging from the bedframe.

 

Fred watched Henry eating. He had lost both arms. There were thick layers of bandages around the short stumps below his shoulders. That was going to be inconvenient, not like his own amputations. He could get artificial legs and be out and about like anyone else if he wanted to. Not having arms was going to be a bitch, though. It was a shame, really.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Officialdom groaned into slow motion on behalf of the two boys. Fred had lived with a foster family for ten years following the death of his parents in a terrorist attack in Paris. The aunt he had stayed with while they were away had emigrated to New Zealand shortly afterwards, leaving the five year old child a ward of the state. Fred’s foster parents had notified the relevant authorities that they were unable to care for a severely disabled double amputee and that their house in Pinner was unsuitable for conversion. This was true. Henry was an orphan, abandoned by his teenage mother as a baby and brought up in various orphanages around the country until he was old enough to board at a school for orphaned boys in Tunbridge Wells. He had lived there since he was nine years old. The administrator was vehement that they had no facilities to accommodate a severely disabled double amputee. With pressure from the hospital administration, who were keen to see the teenagers actually leave the hospital within a matter of weeks, placements for the two boys were found in a vocational school for disabled youngsters just outside Welwyn Garden City [pron. wel-lin]. A small dormitory had been vacated recently and the two new boys would be sharing a four-bunk room on the first floor. Their near future was therefore arranged and secure. They were quite unaware of all this. Four weeks after their amputations, both boys had been measured and fitted for prosthetic limbs and were waiting for them to be delivered and to enter rehab. Henry turned sixteen. It was not a happy birthday. Both boys were heartily sick of being in bed on a ward with a bunch of bitter oldies. They spent much of the time together with Henry sitting cross-legged on Fred’s bed talking about guy stuff. The nursing staff had asked him several times to stay in his own bed but since neither of the lads were actually ill in any way, they usually ignored it now unless one of the senior staff was expected for an inspection.

 

Fred had been right about Henry. He was very good-looking. Sort of curly hair, nice eyes and eyebrows and beautiful long eyelashes. A small straight nose and nice lips. And a strong chin. He would be a handsome man when his features matured. Fred was fairly good-looking himself, big round eyes, inquisitive and disconcerting at times, and he was proud of beginning to grow facial hair. He ought to shave but his electric razor was at home in Pinner.

 

Their rehabilitation coincided but in separate rooms and with different prosthetists. There were leg men and arm men. Fred was looking forward to getting new legs. His prosthetist explained that he would have to start off on little short things called stubbies because someone who had such short stumps needed to take it easy in finding their balance and learning to walk again. So he received a pair of stubbies, glossy with new black carbon fibre and with thick circular rubber feet attached. He practised standing with them, getting used to how the sockets felt and the elastic belts around his waist which held the stubbies onto his stumps. He could take tiny steps, waddling along like a toy robot. It was very erotic. Fred’s teenage penis was erect almost the entire time he was in rehab.

 

Henry’s rehab started the moment he was helped into his pristine black artificial arms. His ten centimetre long stumps fit into sockets which conformed to his shoulders. The upper sockets were attached to forearms which curved slightly inwards and which were shorter than his real arms had been. He had asked for hooks but they had not yet been connected. The prosthetist fussed around behind his back, pulling and tightening strapping and cabling and asking him to flex his shoulders or to push them forwards. The forearm parts moved up and down sometimes but he could not move the biceps much. They were pretty much stuck to his shoulders. Next came the hooks. The prosthetist screwed them into the ends of his forearms, into the steel wrist which should be able to twist around and snap inwards. Henry had no idea how that worked. The prosthetist attached more cables, this time to the hooks and they continued to flex and adjust until the prosthetist was satisfied and asked if Henry was comfortable. He looked down at the black mechanisms hanging lifelessly from his shoulders and shrugged.

            – Feels alright, I suppose. I’m not sure how it’s supposed to feel.

He was shown how to lift the forearms and practised it for the next hour. He began to get a feel for the motion he needed to make to raise the arm and lock it. Followed by a similar motion to let it drop. It was a lot more difficult than he had expected but far from impossible. He could tell that it was only a matter of doing it enough times before it became second nature and then he would be able to use the artificial arms practically as well as his old flesh ones. The prosthetist continued to make tiny adjustments and the arms fit more comfortably after an hour. The tweaking was doing some good. Next he had to try opening the hooks. He had to lift the forearm to ninety degrees and then open the hook. He had to squirm around a bit to switch from moving the forearm up and down to opening the hook. Luckily it closed by itself. He had to open the right hook and drop his arm, then lift the left forearm and open that hook. The most difficult thing was having both forearms pointing forward and trying to open the hooks without letting the forearms drop. By the end of the second hour, he was sort of getting the hang of it. The prosthetist said the session was over for today and asked if he wanted to keep the arms on when he went back to the ward. He did and spent the rest of the day working out how the arms worked mechanically.

 

Fred was still in rehab. He was wearing the training stubbies and sitting in a brand new wheelchair. He was told how to hold the rims and how to push and bring his hands back to the rims. It was a kind of circular motion and it should be fluid, not a series of tiny jerks. He could turn himself in the chair and was securely belted in. His stumps were so short that it was a little difficult to push himself while balancing on his buttocks without support from thighs. He could hardly distinguish his stumps when he looked down. His tummy more or less hid the stumps. It looked fantastic. Legless at last! After nearly three hours, Fred was allowed back to the ward wheeling himself along and wearing his first pair of stubbies. His erection was relentless. He would have to rub one out before long. It was no joke.

 

He rolled back to the amputee ward and Henry applauded his appearance, clacking his hooks together as best he could.

            – Look at you with the hooks! Mate, you look fantastic. Are you glad you’ve got your arms back?

            – Well. what do you think? And you’ve got yourself some legs, by the looks.

            – They could be a bit longer but there’s time enough for that. How do you like my chair?

            – Very smart. Come and sit here. I just found a really funny video.

Fred watched as Henry tilted his body and shrugged his shoulders until he had his hook in such a position that he could pick his phone up off the bed. He shrugged again and twisted his shoulders until the left hook could reach the screen. Fred noticed that the forearms were curved so the hooks could touch. They looked a bit short but they were well horny. Henry found the video he was looking for and held the phone out for Fred. It was funny. A cat’s meow had been autotuned and set to music and musicians from all over the world had added heir own instruments to the composition. All through it, the cat’s song was foremost. It was brilliant. He handed the phone back and Henry took it in a hook.

            – You look really cool with the hooks. They suit you. It’s like you were meant to have hooks.

            – And you look pretty good yourself. A handsome bloke in a wheelchair without any legs whatsoever.

            – Hey! I’ve got legs! They’re just not very long.

            – You look great.

They stared at each other, eye to eye. There was more going on than might be expected. Henry smiled and looked down at his new hooks.

 

Rehabilitation continued for the two boys. After nearly a week of basically standing around, two pylons were added to Fred’s stubbies between the sockets and the feet. He was twelve centimetres taller and could waddle a little faster. It was actually walking. His prosthetist was pleased with him, at how quickly he was adapting to his new body configuration. He never complained at how difficult it was or how it hurt like the obese diabetics nearly always did. Henry was set a series of ever more difficult tasks which required an increasing amount of dexterity. He was shown how to pick up cutlery and how to bring a glass to his mouth without spilling the liquid. It called for some minor acrobatics but with the severely restricted motion available with the prosthetic arms, compromises were necessary. He learned to operate the toggle switches on the sockets to move the hooks from pointing inwards to pointing vertically and back again. He had to hit the switch with the other socket. It made quite a racket but was fun to do. There was another button on the wrist which he had to swipe with the other hook which made the angle of the hook snap inwards. That was noisy too. Henry was simply happy to have the pair of hooks he had fantasized about since he was about seven. He had seen a man walking in front of him wearing two steel hooks and had fallen in love with the idea of having his own one day. The accident he had arranged, or taken advantage of, delivered his hooks at the age of sixteen. It was brilliant.

 

On Saturday morning, the two boys were called in to meet one of the hospital managers. It was unusual for two patients to be handled at the same time but today it was relevant. A nurse escorted the boys to the office. Henry entered and saw the headmaster from his school and Fred rolled in behind him to see his foster parents standing by the administrator’s desk. They looked uncomfortable, not able to meet his eyes.

            – Thank you for coming, everyone. Do sit down. Now, boys, I have some news for you about your future. You are being discharged today but, unfortunately, you will not be going home. Instead, you will be going to a vocational school for physically handicapped boys in Welwyn Garden City. That’s north of St Alban’s, if you didn’t know, so not so far. We have been thinking about the best way to cope with your disabilities and we believe the course we have chosen is the best way forward. So you will be shown a variety of professions which you will be able to manage as amputees and you may then choose one in which to specialise. Your other education will naturally continue as normal. You will be pleased to hear that you will still be together in the new place. There is a comfortable room on the first floor for four young men which is now available and you will have it to yourselves, at least for the time being. I hear from my staff that you get on well together so I hope you will be happy to share accommodation in the new place. Do you understand so far?

            – Can I get my stuff from Pinner first?

            – Darling, you’ll be coming home with us first to collect all your things and then we’ll drive you to Welwyn later on.

            – Oh, alright.

            – How about my things at school?

            – They are being collected as we speak and will be brought to you after you arrive this evening, Henry. Don’t worry. We’ll make sure we bring everything.

            – So we’re going to be boarding together, me and Fred?

            – Yes, that’s what we thought you might like. And a new school tailored exactly to what your new needs are. There will be other lads like yourselves too.

            – That sounds alright. What do you think, Fred?

            – I suppose so. Can I still come home sometimes, though?

            – Yes, of course you can, darling. We’ll always be happy to see you.

 

The boys were discharged shortly afterwards, mainly so as not to keep Fred’s foster parents waiting. Fred wheeled himself out to their Land Rover and pulled himself up into the back seat. His wheelchair went in the back with a bag of his belongings. They drove to Pinner and up the hill to their home. They left the wheelchair in the car. Fred hung onto his foster father’s neck as they mounted the thirteen steps leading through the garden to the front door. Fred lowered himself onto his stubbies and waited for direction as the adults removed their coats.

            – Come into the kitchen, Fred. We’ll have a snack now and a late dinner. Then we’ll drive to Welwyn with your things. I’m sure you’ll enjoy being there. From what I’ve heard, it’s a very good school and there are lots of young men there like yourself, so don’t worry about feeling out of place.

Fred said nothing. They could try to put a shine on it but he knew he was being thrown out. It was OK. He pulled himself onto a kitchen chair with his carbon-clad stumps motionless in front of him and ate the sandwiches and drank the tea his foster mum placed before him. Her husband was downstairs in the basement, Fred’s space where he slept and where he had frozen his legs. He filled a suitcase with Fred’s clothes and would shortly collect the boy to select which of his old toys and memorabilia he wanted to keep.

 

A minibus collected Henry at three o’clock. The driver carried a carrier bag containing Henry’s bits and pieces and they walked together to the bus. Henry climbed in carefully, aware of how different his body felt without the weight of arms. The driver lifted one of his artificial arms and fixed his seatbelt for him, gave him a thumbs up and a smile and they left for Welwyn.

 

The school was on the outskirts of Welwyn in a foresty environment. It was a broad two storey building with two long extensions either side, hidden from view from the front. The ground floor was the school itself and the upper floor held the dormitories. The minibus pulled up outside and the driver told Henry to stay put while he went inside with his bag of stuff to check in. He came out five minutes later with a smartly dressed matron who looked a lot like Sandi Toksvig. The driver released the seat belt, which Henry had been trying to undo for five minutes without succeeding and he climbed out to be welcomed by Sandi. She held her hand out and waited patiently, smiling, while he shrugged and jerked his right forearm to ninety degrees. Sandi took hold of the hook and shook it gently.

            – Welcome, Henry. I am Mrs Mitchell and I am the matron. It’s nice you could join us. I’m very pleased to meet you. Let’s go inside and I’ll show you to your room.

Mrs Mitchell picked up Henry’s things and asked him to follow her. They turned and went inside. The minibus drove away behind them.     

            – Your other things from Tunbridge Wells arrived this afternoon too. I put them in your room so they’re all ready and waiting for you. I’ll help you get sorted when we’re upstairs. Did you have a good trip from the hospital?

Henry had rarely been spoken to like this by an adult before. It was all perfectly logical but different somehow. The school had a policy of not treating their pupils as children but as young adults who had to face up to some cruel realities. It was intended to instil a sense of self-respect, equality and self-reliance in the young amputees. Mrs Mitchell called a lift. The call button was big and stuck out from the wall. He could press that easily, he thought. Even with his bum. The lift was the biggest Henry had seen. It was big enough for at least two wheelchairs to spin around in. That was precisely the reason for its design. The doors opened.

            – This is one of the common rooms. The others are at the ends of the dormitory wings. There’s a tv and sound system and lots of board games, if you like that sort of thing. Anyway, this is where the boys like to congregate after school and I hope you’ll join them this evening. There’s a slightly different crowd in each one so you should visit all three and see which one you like. Here we are. This is your dormitory. The last two young men who lived here moved out a couple of weeks ago to new jobs and their own flats so we’re glad to have some new faces again. I understand one of your friends will be joining you a little later.

There was another big button outside the door. Mrs Mitchell pressed it and the door slid aside to reveal a room with a wide window at the far end and four identical areas with a bed, a night table and low wardrobe. Near the window, on each side, were four chairs at wide wall-mounted tabletops. There were lots of plugs in the wall above for internet and electrical connections. It looked a lot like a cross between his room and the hospital. His belongings were piled on a bed.

            – Where would you like to sleep? You can choose any bed. First come, first served, eh?

            – The one where my things are is fine.

            – Jolly good. Here’s your wardrobe and closet where you can hang your clothes. I’ll give you a hand, don’t worry. How long have you had your prostheses?

            – Oh, only about a week.

            – And are you getting used to them?

            – Yes, I think so.

            – There are several other young men here who use artificial arms. I’m sure you’ll get some good hints and tricks from them. It’s important to mix in with the others, you see. Don’t be shy.

            – No, I’m not shy.

            – Good show. Now, let’s get your clothes hung up. Shall I put jackets and shirts on the left and trousers on the right?

            – Yes, that’s how I do it at home. Did, I mean.

            – Well, that’s the way we’ll do it here. And your socks and pants can go in this drawer, OK? We’ll keep this cupboard empty for the time being. You can put your other things in there.

She busied herself hanging Henry’s clothes up, chatting amicably. It was not like a boarding school at all. He felt like he was in a hotel, almost.

            – Now, some other young amputees have asked for special adaptations to the furniture. For example, you might find it useful to have dressing hooks to hang your prostheses on each evening before bed so they’re ready for you to slip on again in the morning. If you need anything like that, let one of the staff know and we’ll do our best. You know the sort of thing I mean, don’t you?

            – Yes, I’ve seen that sort of thing in videos.

Mrs Mitchell looked at Henry for a moment and took out her phone.

            – Actually, I’m going to have a set made for you right now. Oh, hello Jake. Would you come up to B Fifteen? We need a dressing frame for a bilateral arm amputee. Yes, I’ll wait. Thanks. Well, Henry. Come over here and I’ll show you what else you have.

She explained the various connections and the electrical sockets and showed how the seats revolved to alter their height.

            – If you want, you can ask for a laptop. It won’t be the latest model but you can use it to get on the net and send emails and that sort of thing. Would you like one?

            – Yes please!

            – Alright. I’ll get someone to bring you one. Do you think your friend would like one, too?

            – Yes, I’m sure he would.

            – Well, in that case, we’ll get two. You have a phone, don’t you?

            – Yes, it’s in my pocket.

            – Well, you can charge it from this outlet overnight. You don’t need the charger. Ah, here’s Jake.

A guy about thirty came in dressed in a workman’s cut-off overalls and a baseball cap on backwards. He had a red beard and a hook on his left arm. He limped in and Henry saw his steel peg leg.

            – Hello, young man. Who are you?

            – Henry. I think I beat you in the hooks department.

            – Ha! I guess you do. Show me what you need and I’ll get started. Where do you want your dressing frame?

            – Can we put it against the wall?

            – We can indeed. Come and stand over here and I’ll take a few measurements.

Mrs Mitchell stood and walked towards the door.

            – I’ll leave you two to it. See you later, Henry.

            – Right. Turn your back to me for a moment. I want to measure the distance between your sockets. OK. Stand against the wall and I can get the height. Good job. Now what I’m going to do is make a frame with two hooks either side which you can sort of clip your sockets into. Then you slide down the wall, your arms come off and you can go to bed. Then in the morning, you can slide back up into the sockets and get on with it. It saves a lot of faffing about with the harness. They always get twisted up, at least mine does. How long have you been an amp?

            – About six weeks. I’ve had these arms for just over a week.

            – Oh, so it’s all new to you. Well, don’t worry about that. We all have to start somewhere. I’m going to the workshop to start on your frame so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes. Why don’t you go and have a look at the common rooms? I don’t suppose there’ll be anyone there yet but at least you can see what they’re like.

            –Alright, I’ll do that. Thanks Jake.

            – Don’t mensh. See you in a bit.

Jake spun on his peg leg and left. Henry looked around at the room and thought it might be OK after all. He went out into the corridor and tried hitting the door release button with a hook. The door trundled closed and the lock clicked. It was clearly marked with the room number Fifteen and there were four fixtures into which the residents’ names could be inserted. He walked to the end of the corridor and found one of the common rooms. There were comfortable and colourful sofas arranged around a central table with one side left open. For wheelchair users, probably. There was a big tv screen and speakers. One wall held a bookshelf with books and maps and brochures from prosthetics companies, video games and some old DVDs of nature documentaries. There was a pile of board games like Scrabble and Monopoly and Trivial Pursuit. Someone had left an arm prosthesis behind and it awaited its owner to collect it. How could you forget something like that?

He walked back along the corridor, past the lift, to the first common room he had seen. It was a little bigger and was lighter than the other one. It had pretty much the same kind of furniture and some desks where people could work.

 

He sat down on one of the sofas and wondered about mealtimes. Mrs Whatshername had not mentioned it. He could hear a sudden clamour from downstairs. It was four o’clock so probably the schoolday was ending. There was muffled shouting and laughter. People would be coming upstairs in a minute. He ought to get back to his room in case Jake came back but he would wait for a few minutes more. Sure enough, two guys a bit older than himself marched into the common room and looked at him.

            – Hi! Are you one of the new boys? We heard you were coming.

            – Yeah, I just got here. My mate will be here later on, I think.

The first guy who had spoken held out his right hook. Henry got to his feet and forced his forearm up. They touched hooks. The other guy did the same, rocking forward on two prosthetic legs hidden under a pair of ripped jeans.

            – Good to meet you. I’m Rick and this is Ralph.

            – I’m Henry. And my mate is Fred. I was just wondering about getting some supper.

            – Oh, that starts at five thirty and you can get something until seven. The dining room is downstairs. It’s a buffet system so you can pick what you want, within reason. We’ll be in here until it opens so if you like, come back here and we can all go down together.

            – That would be good. Look, I should get back to my room because Jake is making me a dressing frame thingy and I need to show him where I want it.

            – See you later, then.

Henry wandered back to Fifteen and hit the door release. Jake was nowhere to be seen but there were two newish laptops set up, plugged into the wall. Great! He contorted his body to get a hook under the cover and pulled it open. He dropped a hook onto the power button and waited for the machine to power up. It was like a brand new machine. He had to enter his name and a password to register it. He used the default browser to download a proper one and logged in to his Gmail account. No new messages since he had last checked this morning. The door rolled open and Jake came in with a strip of wood, the ends rounded neatly and with two large hooks extending from it.

            – There you are. Got yourself a new computer, by the looks. Come and show me where you want this. Just a minute while I check the hooks against your back. Yup, it looks right. You have your own legs, don’t you?

            – Yes. It’s my mate who doesn’t have legs.

            – Oh, OK. So you’ll be more or less the same height for the foreseeable. Stand against the wall and imagine you want to get the backs of your sockets onto these hooks.

Henry rose slightly onto his toes and held the position.

            – Like this would be good.

Jake looked at Henry’s prosthetics and marked the wall with a swipe of his carpenter’s pencil. He pulled out a drill hanging on a loop on his shorts and drilled four holes through the wood into the wall. Four large screws were quickly in place.

            – Right. Try it out, Henry. You don’t need to take your arms off completely. Just see if you can get the rims onto the hooks. Well, that looks alright to me. You’ll probably have to practise it a few times before you get the hang of it but it’ll save you a lot of mucking about. Is there anything else you’d like a hand with while I’m here? Have you looked in the bathroom yet?

            – Oh, I never even thought to look.

            – It’s just there. That door slides open like the front door. Just hit the button.

            – I never even noticed the door. Oh, this is enormous. Nice and warm too.

            – Yeah. The floor is heated. Makes it a bit nicer for guys who have to shuffle around on their arses. You see all the taps are worked by levers. Are you going to be able to work them?

            – I think my stumps might be a bit short but otherwise they’re probably OK.

            – Then there’s a hose next to the loo so you can shower your bum instead of trying to use toilet paper. That’s something else you’ll have to practise, I expect. I can put another frame up in here for you if you want.

            – Could you? It would be handy to be able to take my arms off in here.

            – Alright. I’ll put it up tomorrow some time. I know your size now so you don’t need to wait around for me. You’ll probably be chatting to the administrators for a bit tomorrow and Friday so you wouldn’t be in here anyway. Leave it to me.

            – Thanks, Jake.

            – It’s alright. I’m happy to help. Especially a guy who’s only just got his first pair of hooks. How do you like them so far?

            – My stumps are shorter than I wanted them but otherwise I like using artificial arms and hooks.

            – Er, I think you’re giving away a little secret there, mate. Do I understand that you planned your amputations?

            – Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.

            – No. Don’t worry. You’re not the only bloke here who arranged to become an amputee but the others don’t usually like to hear about that sort of thing so if I were you, I’d keep it under my hat. Some of the guys don’t enjoy being disabled and they don’t like the idea that there are people who do. Do you understand?

            – Yes. Sorry. I should have minded my words.

            – Don’t worry. No harm done, but lesson learned, I hope. Right, must be off. Dinnertime soon. See you, Henry.

Henry was mortified by what he had said. He had no idea if Jake was trustworthy or if his secret would be common knowledge and he would be shunned by the others. What an idiot!

 

Henry went back to his new laptop and looked up a map of Welwyn Garden City. He found the school and zoomed out to see what other places were nearby which he might have heard of. Watford and St Albans came into view. There was a railway in the town centre and it lead down to Euston. Or maybe Kings Cross. Anyway. He clicked across to YouTube and logged on. His favourite videos appeared and he watched one of his bilateral amputee heroes working on his car.

 

It was twenty-five past five. Fred still had not appeared and Henry’s tummy was rumbling so he went along to the common room to see if he could find Rick and Ralph again. The room was packed with young amputees. Some turned to look at him for a moment and shared a word with their group. There were guys in wheelchairs, on crutches and on stubbies. A group by the window, four of them, gestured with prosthetic arms. Just like himself. He spotted Ralph waving a hook at him and walked over to join him.

            – Hi Henry. Ready for some supper? Get ready to run. The sooner we get down there, the better the choice. Leg amps always get second choice.

            – Fuck off, Ralph. They save the best for last.

The speaker was a guy with long curly hair and a moustache and sitting with two black cylindrical stubbies sticking out in front of him. A bell sounded from downstairs and everyone burst into motion. A fairly orderly queue formed along the corridor to the lift and about ten hungry inmates entered the lift at a time. The four legless guys in wheelchairs were allowed priority. They would be slow in collecting their grub so it made no difference. The lift sawed up and down until everyone was crowded into the dining hall. Everyone was seated for a few moments before service started. This was the point in the day when announcements were made, when everyone was awake and receptive. Mrs Mitchell stood by the food counters and raised her hands.

            – Just before we get to the main event, I’d like to introduce our latest student who joins us today. Henry, would you come up here for a moment?

Henry blushed and stood up. He walked across the floor to stand next to Mrs Mitchell who continued.

            – Henry is sixteen and a recent amputee. He has had his prostheses for just over a week so please bear that in mind. His address is B Fifteen, which as most of you know is where Clive and Jimmy lived. Henry will be joining classes next Monday after orientation. Henry’s friend Fred whom he met in hospital will be joining us this evening and I’ll introduce him to you tomorrow evening. Please give Henry a big welcome.

Fifty young amputees applauded or smacked their prosthetic arms against the tables to welcome him. He grinned in embarrassment, and then looked around at the sea of welcoming, admiring faces and suddenly he felt that he had come home. Mrs Mitchell waved an arm towards the counters, signalling that supper could begin.

 

Henry stood in bemusement for a few seconds until Ralph joined him.

            – You need some help? Come on. Show me what you want to eat and I’ll carry your plate.

Henry looked at what was on offer. All the food had been diced into bite-sized chunks. He asked Ralph to pick some meatballs and mashed potato with some tomato on the side. He could eat those himself, he was pretty sure. He watched Ralph using his hooks like they were just ordinary hands. He was very skilled with them.

            – Is this enough? Well, we can come back if you’re still hungry.

Ralph took Henry’s food to their table.

            – Get stuck in.

Henry struggled with his forearms for a few seconds. He wanted to grip the fork so the prongs were towards him. He made several attempts and was still trying when Ralph came back with his own meal.

            – Wait a second. I’ll help.

Ralph picked the fork up and held it so Henry could grab it. He watched Henry’s concentration as he moved his forearm without opening the hook. He leant forward to lower the fork onto his plate and twisted to scoop up some mash. He went almost cross-eyed staring at his fork as it approached his mouth. And finally, he had a mouthful of potato.

            – You don’t have a lot of movement in those arms, do you, mate? That’s a bit of a pisser. Never mind. You’re doing OK.

Ralph had chosen the meatballs too but with boiled potatoes – cubed. He ignored the cutlery altogether and used his hooks to bring food to his mouth. He had both natural elbows and was much more dextrous with his hooks than Henry. Rick brought his meal over and sat next to Ralph. He had chicken and chips with mushed peas. He used only his hooks, too. Soon there were six of them enjoying the evening meal, warily watching the new boy. None of them had hands and two of them were legless into the bargain. Henry was concentrating too hard on what he was doing to notice that he was the centre of attention.

 

They finished with a piece of cake and a mug of tea. Henry thanked the company for their help and went up to his room. Fred was sitting there in his wheelchair typing a text message.

            – Hi there! Where have you been?

            – Downstairs having dinner. Have you eaten yet?

            – Yeah, we had a meal before we left. The prisoner’s last meal.

            – When did you get here?

            – I don’t know. About an hour ago, I suppose. My dad dropped me off and brought my things up. Mrs Mitchell showed me around and here I am.

            – I ordered a laptop for you. That one’s yours.

            – Really? Great! Thanks. What was the food like?

            – Quite good, actually. I had meatballs. There were six of us at the table and no-one had hands. I’ve never seen so many boys with hooks before in one place, and we weren’t the only ones.

            – Cool. I’ll give it a miss for this evening but you can show me what to do tomorrow morning. Six thirty breakfast, until eight thirty and school starts at nine. But apparently we’re going to have our own introductory session tomorrow. Mrs Mitchell said she’d come and fetch us when they’re ready.

            – Oh, alright. What do you want to do now? Shall we go to the common room and meet some of the others? Or hang out here?

            – What do you want to do?

            – I’d like to get to know some of the others.

            – OK. I’ll come with you. Lead the way!

            – Are you using your chair? Why don’t you use your stubbies?

            – OK. Suits me.

Fred lowered himself onto his stubbies, flailed for balance and followed Henry out of their quarters down to the larger common room. Rick waved when he looked up at the sound of Fred’s legs.

            – This is my friend Fred. We’re bunking together. And this is Rick. Is Ralph coming?

            – Yeah, he’ll be here soon. Hi Fred. Jump up and make yourself comfortable. You’ve just got here, I guess.

            – Yup, an hour ago. Is this where everyone meets up?

            – Well, us normals come in here. There’s another common room at the end of this corridor where the computer kids congregate and another one around the corner and far away where the sports fiends hang out. But if you want someone normal to talk to, this is the place. Alcohol is forbidden but someone usually has a bottle to share. You have to be careful to hide the empties and take them into town to recycle, ha ha!

Two guys about eighteen waddled in on stubbies, longer than Fred’s, and saluted. They leapt onto facing sofas and started playing cards.

 

Rick described life at the school. They were free to come and go outside school hours up to eleven o’clock when everyone ought to be back. There was a bus service into Welwyn town centre every half hour. All the buses were accessible for wheelchair users and all the drivers were used to the amputee crowd which used the route. Ralph arrived and squashed in between Rick and another hook user. Rick introduced him to Fred and they shook, hand to hook. Ralph was by far the more inquisitive of the two and asked loads of questions about where they had lived and what they were interested in. No-one mentioned anything about disability or amputation or prosthetic limbs. Just a small group of teenagers getting to know each other.

 

Henry and Fred hung out until ten thirty, greeting other students who dropped by to say hello and quickly feeling themselves to be welcome amongst peers. They wished the others goodnight and returned to room Fifteen. Fred was impressed with the automatic sliding door. It was plenty wide enough for him to get his wheelchair through.

            – I enjoyed that. I’m quite glad we came here now.

            – So am I. I’m glad we’re together, though. I feel safer with you.

            – Really? What do you mean?

            – Well, I’m so useless with these arms still. It’s good there’s someone else with me who has their hands.

            – Oh well, in that case, I’m glad there’s someone here with legs. I’ll be your arms if you’ll be my legs? Is it a deal?

            – Haha! Yes, it’s a deal.

            – Good. Do you need the bathroom? I’m dying for a piss.

Fred rocked into the bathroom and used a low urinal. Henry heard him brushing his teeth and went to the bathroom door.

            – Will you brush my teeth for me, Fred? I need to get an electric toothbrush, I suppose.

            – Come over here, then. Sit on the loo seat.

Fred brushed Henry’s teeth and held a glass of water for him to rinse his mouth with.

            – Do you need anything else?

            – Er, well, er..

            – OK, I can guess. Jump up and I’ll help.

Fred stood behind Henry and opened his zip. He reached in and pulled Henry’s cock out and held it. Henry relieved himself and thanked Fred.

            – Do you need help undressing? I don’t mind helping, honest.

            – It would be a big help. Thanks Fred.

            – It’s alright. You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?

            – Of course I would.

            – Well, that’s settled then. Step out of your trousers and I’ll take your undies and socks off.

            – I’ve got a dressing frame that the carpenter made for me this afternoon. I can get my arms off by myself, I think, and then if you could pull my T-shirt off.

            – We’ll give it a try. Where is it?

            – By my bed.

            – Give it a go. I’ll help if it doesn’t work but you’ll have to show me what to do. I don’t know anything about arms.

Naked except for his prostheses, Henry stood with his back to the wall and stood on tiptoe. He was trying to get the hooks to engage with his shoulder sockets. He found them and wriggled out of his sockets. The hooks held them. He turned around to look at his arms hanging ready for next morning. The harness was taut and ready.

            – Jump into bed and I’ll tuck you in.

Moments later, Fred dimmed the lights which continued to glow slightly and removed his hoody and shorts. He sat on the bed and undid the belts which held his stubbies and dropped them onto the floor. He scratched his stumps and wriggled between the sheets.

            – Good night, Henry. Sweet dreams.

            – Good night, Fred.

 

– – – – – – –

 

Henry showed Fred where the dining room was. They had both woken up just before seven and tried out the shower. Dressed in clean clothes, they felt ready to start a new life in a new school with a lot of guys their age who looked a lot like they did. There was bacon and eggs and fried tomato or müesli or cereal or bread and slices of cheese and sausage meat. Fred was on stubbies and had trouble reaching the food on the counter. An attendant asked if he could help and soon Fred held a plate of bacon and eggs. Henry was slowly assembling some slices of bread, cheese and ham onto a plate and was wondering the best way to carry it. He looked at his sockets and hit the left one with the right. The hook snapped around and pointed to the right. He ought to be able to carry the plate now with both hooks. He caught the eye of the attendant and smiled. Fred snaffled his breakfast. He was really hungry. He wanted a drink. There was tea or coffee, or milk or orange juice. He asked Henry what he wanted to drink and brought two glasses of orange juice. Fred took their dirty crockery away and they went upstairs to the common room. The tv was on, showing the latest national news. Homelessness was down again, the cost of living was keeping pace with inflation and the sale of the nuclear aircraft carriers to Canada meant that the NHS would get the twenty-five percent budget increase the government had promised. The Americans were furious. And closer to home, the first five towers of studio apartments were nearing completion in Hatfield. That was practically just down the road.

 

They hung around in the common room until a quarter to nine and went back to Fifteen. Someone would be collecting them by nine. They tidied their beds and looked around for a place to put their dirty clothes. They would have to ask about that. There was a knock on the door and seconds later it rolled open and Mrs Mitchell wished them a Good morning.

            – Would you like to come with me to the conference room? You won’t need anything but you can bring your phones, of course.

            – Is this our initiation ceremony?

            – Ha! Something like that, Fred. We want to tell you all about the school and the rules and regulations and everything else. Are you ready? Shall we go down?

They stepped forward and the three of them walked towards the lift.

            – I was wondering why the doors don’t lock.

            – It’s for safety reasons, Fred. We have a very good CCTV system which is monitored twenty-four seven so we know who enters a room. And because no-one’s doors have locks, everyone respects other people’s privacy. But if there was a fire or some other emergency, we need to be able to rescue you quickly, otherwise you’d be wasting precious minutes struggling into your prostheses.

            – I see. So if anyone did try to sneak in, you’d know about it.

            – Yes, we would and security would be there very shortly. So you don’t need to worry about that. If you want some privacy, just close the door. You can leave it open too if you don’t mind people dropping in for a chat. Here we are. Come in and take a seat.

There were two others in the room, already seated with a pile of papers in front of them. Mrs Mitchell introduced them and explained what their jobs were. In the three hours until lunchtime, the boys learned the do’s and don’t’s of school life, accessibility to services and common areas, mealtimes and were told who to inform if they needed or wanted some maintenance or alterations in their rooms. If they were having trouble with their prostheses, there was a technician who could probably fix the problem.

            – And we’re going into Welwyn to open a couple of bank accounts for you. Your pensions will be paid directly into your accounts and you’ll be able to have some pocket money that way. When you’re eighteen, you’ll have full charge of your accounts but until then, you’ll need to ask one of us if you want to access more than two hundred at a time.

            – Will we have debit cards?

            – Yes. When you’re eighteen, you can change them for credit cards.

            – What do we do about laundry? We’ve already got some dirty washing and there’s no laundry basket.

            – There’s a cupboard in the bathroom, Henry. There’s a frame with four laundry bags hanging from it. There are two washer-driers on B-Wing which you can reserve if you need to launder a few T-shirts or stump socks and the like. Mrs Mitchell will show you how to work the machine if you haven’t used one before. Just ask.

            – So we do our own laundry?

            – Yes. It’s one of the things which you’ll learn to do. Someone will always be on hand to help if you need it, Fred, so don’t be afraid to ask us. But it’s one of the things that you’ll be responsible for. Well, shall we go and have some lunch and meet back here at two o’clock?

 

Mrs Mitchell escorted the boys to the dining room and left them to talk to people at a far table. Fred and Henry collected some lunch with the help of the assistant and joined a couple of other guys at their table, one legless in a wheelchair, one with artificial legs and crutches. The legless guy, Craig, invited them to his room for a couple of beers that evening and told them to keep it quiet.

 

The afternoon session was a review of the boys’ education so far. There would be an overlap because Fred had been slightly further along than the curriculum he would be joining on Monday and Henry was informed that he was up-to-date but unfortunately there would be no more French lessons. Henry did not think it unfortunate. The school’s policy on physical education was simply that arm amputees had their own sports quite separate from the leg amputees. There was an excellent swimming pool in Welwyn to which the school organised a whole morning once a month. The boys were free to visit it in their free time but should then be prepared for stares and comments from the general public. Fred was told he was expected to hand in written work and Henry should learn to use his new laptop to submit text files where possible. He would also have three hours a week of writing practice while the others had art and crafts. That was alright.

 

At half past three, the official business of the day was over and the assistant from the dining room entered with a sponge cake and a big thermos of tea.

            – I’m sure you have some questions about what you’ve heard today, so feel free to ask anything you want. And help yourselves to cake.

After five hours of exhaustive information, the boys did not have much to ask. Fred said it was difficult to say just yet but could he bring up any problems he ran into with someone? Mrs Mitchell replied.

            – I’m always on hand for that sort of thing and if you want to get in touch with me quickly, just tell the security guard at the desk downstairs in the entrance hall and he or she will contact me immediately.

            – I see. Thank you. When will we be going to the bank?

            – It won’t be until next week sometime. Don’t worry about that. We’ll let you know in advance. Someone will come to collect you from the common room or Number Fifteen. Have you had bank accounts before?

            – I haven’t. How about you?

            – No, it’s something new for me too.

            – Well, it’s a sign that you’re maturing. You won’t have full access just yet but you’ll be able to use the card in town to order a pizza for lunch, for example, or pay for bus fare. That sort of thing. It’s not us who make the restrictions, by the way, it’s the bank’s policy for young people.

 

Henry made a mess of his hooks with the soft Victoria sponge and cleaned them with a paper napkin. They needed a wash. The trio of administrators tidied their folders and papers and declared the meeting over. Fred slipped off his chair and Henry followed him slowly back to Fifteen.

            – That went quite well. I thought I was going to get told off for some reason.

            – Why’s that? Have you got a guilty secret?

Henry had. He had seized the opportunity to get the pair of hooks which he had lusted after for years when the class visited a car component plant in Oswestry. The boys were shown around the factory and first given indoctrination about the superiority of the factory’s products. They were shown the production line first and then the department where body panels were produced. Henry dared his friend Mark to put his arms into the fifteen ton hydraulic press. Mark refused and, in turn, dared Henry to do it. Looking around to make sure no-one else was watching, Henry put his arms between the presses as they were closing. Just as a lark, Mark nudged Henry, a little too hard. He lost his balance and stumbled forward. He managed to stay upright by catching himself on the lower surface of the press with his elbows. At that moment, the upper press trapped his arms, much more of them than he had planned, and crushed them to liquid mush. The tour guide heard Henry’s screams and halted the entire production line while the boy’s injuries were staunched and an ambulance summoned. But everyone thought it was an accident and the factory was being fined for health and safety violations and, with any luck, he was going to get a lot of compensation. He had his hooks but at the end of the wrong kind of arm prostheses. He had wanted arms like Ralph’s. He had intended to lose his hands and maybe a bit above the wrists. Instead he had lost both arms almost entirely. He liked his short stumps well enough now but wished they were longer.

            – No, of course I haven’t got a guilty secret. I just don’t like teachers and administrators or whatever they’re called very much. I don’t know why.

            – Well, they seemed OK today. I don’t mind. What do you want to do this evening? Shall we go and see Craig?

            – Yeah, let’s see what other peoples’ rooms look like.

 

Henry went to the bathroom and ran some scalding hot water over his hooks. He swiped them on a towel and sat down in front of his laptop. He slowly tapped his way to YouTube and watched some videos of arm amputees in rehab. So few men had arms like his. He ought to feel distinguished but it might take months before he could use them naturally, without having to think about his actions and plan every movement. But it would be worth it in the end. He had wanted to be a man who used hooks. He was halfway along the process. Fred sat in his wheelchair and rolled across to see what Henry was looking at.

            – That looks cool. Do you like those electric hands? Is that what you want to get?

            – No, not really. I like the hooks best. I see plenty of men using their hooks to do work with but there are almost none of people actually using bionic hands. They sit and spin the hands around and open and close the fingers but they never do anything with them. I don’t think they’re very practical. You can’t get them wet and you have to keep recharging them.

            – More trouble than they’re worth, huh? I agree with you. I think hooks are way cooler than the electric hands. I’m going to set my laptop up. Do you want to help?

            – OK. It’s not hard.

They crossed to the other side of the room where Fred’s machine waited. Fred opened it and switched it on. It went through its start-up procedures and finally stopped, waiting for Fred to personalise his account.

            – This is practically like a brand new machine.

They spent the next hour downloading various programs onto their machines. At the end, they both had the same browsers and basic apps installed. They sent each other emails to get their addresses into their contacts list. Fred was pleased with the results and happy to have his own laptop.

            – What shall we do now? Half an hour yet until dinner. Shall we see who’s in the common room?

            – Alright. Are you going in the wheelchair?

            – Yup. I’ve done enough walking for today.

            – Do your stumps get sore?

            – Not so much my stumps but my bum muscles get a good work-out and they’re beginning to feel it.

            – Are you looking forward to getting a pair of long legs?

            – Well, I suppose so. I mean, I’ll get them whether I want them or not. That the way the system works as far as I can see. But these stubbies are cool. The other bilaterals wear stubbies too, don’t they, and they must have long legs as well by now.

            – I like the way you walk in your stubbies. It looks sort of, oh, I don’t know, sort of manly.

            – Sexy is what you mean. Steel legs. What could be sexier than that?

            – Steel hooks! Come on, let’s go.

 

There were a few guys lounging around. Someone beckoned the new boys over and introduced himself and his friends. They were all leg amputees, some wearing long trousers, some in shorts, two bilaterals and two above knees. Henry and Fred spoke of their impressions so far and how surprised they were to suddenly find themselves among other guys like themselves.

            – You haven’t started classes yet. Let’s see what you think this time next week.

            – Why? Is it hard?

            – Not really. The work isn’t difficult but they drive you hard. They push you much harder than in a normal school. They’re determined to make us ready for college or uni. I suppose it’s so we have a good chance in life despite being disabled.

            – Makes sense, I suppose.

They chatted for another twenty minutes and went downstairs to the dining room. Fred had been advised to hang around at the front near the serving area.

 

The doors opened and about forty hungry teenagers walked, rolled and crutched inside. Mrs Mitchell arrived and saw Fred.

            – Hello, Fred. I’m going to introduce you to the group so wait just here and then you can come to the front when the others have settled down.

She walked across to the buffet table and watched as the last amputees found their places.

            – Just before we start dinner, here’s our latest member who arrived late yesterday evening. Fred, would you join me, please? This is Fred Roberts, only recently amputated, having lost both legs. He is sharing B Fifteen with Henry, whom we met yesterday and I understand that they were on the same ward together in hospital. Welcome to the school, Fred. Please join me in welcoming Fred!

There was the same raucous welcome as Henry had received the previous day. Fred looked around and grinned at his new comrades and waved.

            – And now, service has started so please enjoy your dinner.

She rested a hand on Fred’s shoulder and murmured a few words to him. He spun himself around and wheeled along to ask the assistant for help in reaching for some fish and chips. He put his meal on the empty space in front of his stumps and wheeled to the table where Henry was sitting with several other hook users.

            – What are you waiting for? They’ve got fish and chips. I didn’t see what else they had.

The others looked at what Fred had on his plate and everyone decided that that was what they wanted too. They walked across to the buffet except for one long-haired guy with a moustache who wheeled himself with two hooks away from the table. Fred saw he was completely legless, much like Craig who they might be visiting a bit later. It was shocking to see someone so good-looking so utterly disabled. His arms were the full-length variety like Henry’s. Fred decided to keep an eye of him when they were eating to see if he was as awkward as Henry was with his arms.

 

He returned a few minutes later with his food and asked the guy sitting next to Fred to shove up a bit. He parked his wheelchair next to Fred’s and held out a hook to shake with.

            – I’m Charles but I go by the name of Cal. Nice to meet another legless man. I see you have stubbies. You must have some kind of stump down there, right?

            – Yeah. They’re not very long but I have little stumps. How about you?

            – I have bilat disarts.

            – I don’t know what that means, sorry.

            – Oh, both my thigh bones were pulled out of my pelvis and they sewed up the holes. So I don’t even have stumps.

            – How do you manage to sit?

            – I’m sitting in a bucket. That’s what I call it. It’s like a socket I can slip my body into and it has a flat base so I can sit in it or scoot around on my hands.

            – Cool.

            – There’s just me and Craig with disarts. Have you met Craig? We’re having a bit of a party tonight in his room.

            – Oh really? Craig invited us too. Oh great. That’ll be fun.

            – Well, Friday night, no school tomorrow, so it’s party time. I’ve got a bottle of vodka and Craig has got some beer, I think.

            – Shit. We haven’t got anything to bring.

            – Doesn’t matter. You haven’t had time to go into town yet, have you? Only just got here. So no-one expects you to arrive with a stash of booze.

            – Do you have a party every weekend?

            – Pretty much.

            – But they don’t allow alcohol, do they? I was in the talking-to this morning and it was practically the first thing they told us.

            – I think they like to get it in early and out of the way so everyone can then forget about it and never mention it again. The admin never checks our rooms, the security doesn’t care so as long as no-one dies of alcohol poisoning, so where’s the harm?

            – Haha! Sounds like we’re going to have some fun tonight.

            – That, my friend, is the whole point of the exercise.

They finished their fish and chips and went to fetch some cake and ice cream for afters.

 

The crowd gradually dispersed, many of them giving cryptic gestures to other groups and receiving nods in return. Something was going on. Fred waited for Henry to finish picking at his cold chips and asked him if he wanted some ice cream. Henry said he was full so they went back to Fifteen and changed their clothes. Henry had a black Iron Maiden T-shirt and put it on. Fred changed his hoodie for a white T-shirt and slid down from his wheelchair onto his stubbies.

            – How do I look?

            – Neat. Will you comb my hair for me? I should get it cut.

            – A man without arms should have a crewcut. Just shave it once a month and have done with it.

            – Really? That sounds like a good idea, actually. Shall I go bald?

            – Well, why not? It grows back and no-one else cares what you look like. I mean, look at us.

            – Alright, I will. Can you do it?

            – Shave you, you mean? Yeah, if you’ve got an electric razor.

            – No, I haven’t. Maybe Craig has one and someone can shave me tonight.

            – Ask them. What time did Craig say to arrive?

            – He didn’t. Shall we go now? It’s a bit early but so what. What room is he in?

            – Twenty-seven.

            – Come on then. Let’s get going.

 

The door was open and there were a couple of guys there already. Craig called them inside and welcomed them. He opened a couple of tins of Heineken and handed them to the newcomers.

            – Good you could come. I’m still expecting a couple more guys and Cal, of course. I don’t suppose you know but me and Cal are what you call an item. Fuck buddies in other words.

Craig’s flatmate came out of the bathroom wearing a smart pair of trousers with the left leg neatly pinned up at the back. His college jumper was neatly pressed and his aluminium axillary crutches shone.

            – I’ll leave you to it then, mateys. I’ll be back around midnight so it would be nice if I had my bed to myself, Craig.

            – Don’t fret, sweetie. Enjoy yourself. Say hello to Pat.

            – I will.

He arranged his crutches and left the room silently, leaving a pleasant scent of after shave behind him. Moments later, Cal arrived with two more amputees. Jack, on crutches, swung a lifeless pair of leg prostheses into the room and Peter followed him. He was wearing a prosthetic hand which seemed to be only cosmetic and he limped. They all greeted each other and said how pleased they were to meet Henry and Fred. Everyone had a beer and sat around talking and laughing. Craig and Cal lifted themselves onto Craig’s bed and lay back as far as their torso sockets would allow. Henry caught Fred’s eye and shrugged. Neither of them had any idea of what was going on. People were sitting round chatting, drinking beer. They joined in as best they could. They asked about what the upcoming school week might hold for them for a half an hour or so and then listened to a couple of leg amputees discussing the advantages or otherwise of their mechanical knees. Henry was surprised that the door was still open. Anyone who passed by could see they were all drinking beer but no-one seemed to be worried. Craig called across to Pete to get the vodka out. He had two bottles of Stolichnaya stashed away. They had been on sale in the supermarket. There was no need to open the second one necessarily but he suspected it would be empty before midnight. Peter found the small plastic glasses and everyone soon had a generous slug of vodka in their hands or hooks. The noise level in the room rose steadily. The young men were beginning to be intoxicated. Henry felt as if his eyes would not obey him. He looked at someone speaking to him but didn’t really see them and what they said seemed to be empty air. He smiled and nodded and raised the vodka to his lips. Pete circulated with the bottle, topping up empty glasses. He was a nice guy. He stood to attention in the middle of the room to make an announcement.

            – Friends, brothers and countrymen! I present to you, by popular request, The Act.

The guys who were sitting on the edge of Craig’s bed stood up and moved away and leaned against the wall. Craig lay back and undid the plastic shell which encased his body. He dropped the front half to the floor and pushed himself over to loosen and remove the rear section. He rolled back to reveal his naked torso. His body ended in a smooth rounded stump with a very erect penis and a pair of balls in a generous scrotum. He gripped his penis and rubbed its shaft. Cal followed suit. His socket was shortly on the floor with his arm prostheses and he was buck naked. His balls were smaller than Craig’s but his dick was longer. Craig gripped Cal’s shoulders and pulled his body towards him. They kissed, laying on their sides and with their penises fighting for superiority. Cal lay on his stomach and Craig worked his way up onto his back. Cal spread his buttocks as wide as he could. Craig’s rigid penis sought Cal’s arsehole. Their audience watched in fascination as his limbless torso shuddered in excitement. Craig found what he was searching for and he shifted his position. He began to fuck slowly, finding the hole’s dimension and its depth, lifting his torso slightly to pump his lower body more forcefully. Cal spread his arm stumps in an attempt to hold on to the bed and lifted his arse as high as he could to accept Craig’s penis.

 

Craig was not a quiet lover. He grunted and keened and gasped and shouted. The others watched the surreal legless torso with its genitals pounding another torso and removed their shorts. They masturbated with flesh hands or with steel hooks, following The Act at all times. Craig arched his back and held his torso rigid while his pent-up semen released itself in violent pulses into Cal’s twitching colon. They were still for several seconds and then Craig slid off Cal’s back. They squirmed around changing position and Cal used his meagre arm stumps to push himself onto Craig’s back. Craig groaned as Cal positioned himself, his short muscular stumps pushing into Craig’s back as he worked his way down the torso stump. Craig spread his buttocks. Cal flailed his arms stumps to maintain balance as his generously sized penis sought Craig’s anus. On the third attempt, he penetrated and gyrated his lower torso, driving his thick penis deeper into his mate’s body. He grasped Craig’s chest with his arm stumps and pumped his lower torso, forcing his penis into the depths, pushing against the prostrate, pumping, fighting to maintain balance on the sweaty back, gripping with his stumps as his torso stump reached its optimum rhythm. He collapsed onto Craig’s back, his buttocks contracting rhythmically as he emptied his balls. The audience interrupted their own masturbation to applaud. It had been a fabulous Act. No-one had needed to help either of them this time. Cal’s stumps gripped Craig’s chest as he slowly lowered himself onto Craig’s bed and they kissed each other. The rounded torso stumps were wet with sperm and sweat. Peter waited a minute or so until their breathing calmed.

            – Are you ready for a shower?

            – Yeah. If you don’t mind, Pete.

Peter picked Craig up and took him to the shower. Moments later he returned for Cal. He sprayed warm water over their stumps and genitals, dried them and took them back to the bed. One by one, he lifted his mates back into their body sockets and then into their wheelchairs. Craig helped Cal don his hooks. He said he had another bottle in his cupboard and Peter filled everyone’s plastic cups again and the boozy evening continued. Most of those present still had their penises out. No-one cared. Some had succeeded in ejaculating, others would save the memories for later.

 

Fred was impressed by what he had witnessed. It was the first time he had seen bilateral disarticulations and here there were two men with them. He had never seen anal sex before. And he had never been in a group of guys jerking off together. He glanced at Henry who looked vacant and very tired and remembered that he was supposed to have a haircut.

            – Has anyone got an electric razor? Henry said he wanted a haircut. He said he wanted all his hair off so he doesn’t need to comb it.

            – I’ve got one, Fred. It’s in the drawer to the left of the wash basin. Do you want to do it? Or shall I?

Craig hopped onto the floor and hand walked to the bathroom. Fred led Henry inside and made him sit cross-legged on the floor. Craig put a towel around Henry’s shoulders and plugged in his razor. Henry’s long curly hair soon littered the bathroom floor. It was amazing how much his appearance changed. He looked older, more masculine. Henry was hardly conscious. His chin dropped to his chest which under the circumstances was convenient. Craig tidied up the remaining wisps of hair and blew away stray strands. He held onto the towel covered in clippings and Fred helped Henry up. Craig swiped most of the hair into the corner and threw the towel after. He put the razor back and hand walked back to the group. Those whose vision still functioned were making comments and complimenting Henry on his transformation. He looked around at them and smiled.

            – Fred, I think Henry has had enough drink for tonight. Shall we get him to bed?

            – It might be a good idea.

            – Put him in my wheelchair and we’ll take him to your room.

 

Henry was bundled off back to Fifteen. Peter pushed the chair, Fred walked on stubbies and Craig used old leather boxing gloves to protect his hands as he swung along in his bucket. Henry was unconscious. Peter stood on Henry’s bed and tried to pull him by an armpit while Fred did his best to push him from the other end.

            – What shall we do with his arms?

            – We better take them off. If you can turn him onto his tummy it’ll be easier.

With the harness exposed, it was easy enough for Peter to get the arms off Henry’s short stumps. He stepped over Henry carefully and looked around for a place to hang the arms. He noticed the dressing frame and put the arms onto a hook.

            – Thanks for helping. I think I ought to stay with him now.

            – OK. Yeah, I suppose it would be better. He might throw up or something. Alright, we’ll be getting back. See you, Fred. Good night.

Craig heaved himself into his wheelchair and Peter pushed him back to the party. Fred went to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. He dimmed the light, climbed onto his bed and removed his stubbies. He sat looking at his short stumps and wondered if it might be possible to have a bucket made for himself. It looked horny. Instead of walking on his stumps, he could swing his whole body along like Cal and Craig did. He would have to ask his prosthetist when he next had an appointment. He would probably have long prostheses first, though. He had been dreading the thought of learning to walk on long legs with such short stumps but he had seen how Jack used his legs, not really trying to walk on his prostheses, just swinging them forward randomly while he crutched along. He could do that and be as tall as the other guys again. He closed his eyes and was asleep within seconds.

 

– – – – – – -

 

They had been expecting to start school on Monday morning but instead Mrs Mitchell informed them at breakfast that she had arranged an appointment with a bank in Welwyn and school would start for them after lunch.

            – I’m sorry to upset your schedule but this is something we have to arrange as soon as possible and the bank has made time for us this morning, so off we go. I’ll collect you just before ten, so do be ready, won’t you?

 

Henry had made a complete recovery from his slight alcohol poisoning on Friday night. He stayed in bed for much of Saturday and ventured out for dinner in the evening. Fred had a bad hangover but felt better by lunchtime. He left Henry to feel sorry for himself and joined a few other students in the common room. Several people had gone into town by bus.

 

            – I was quite looking forward to starting school again. It’ll make the time go quicker to have something to do.

            – Same here. But it’ll be fun to go out for a change. We’ve been inside for days.

 

Mrs Mitchell collected them just before ten, as promised. Fred had a jacket and shorts, Henry a jacket and a new pair of jeans.

            – You look very smart, both of you. The bus is waiting for you downstairs. Mr Wilson will be coming with you.

Wilson was one of the administrators they had met the previous week. He was a highly qualified solicitor and handled impenetrable official bureaucracy on behalf of students regarding matters as diverse as entitlements to prosthetic limbs, compensation claims and pension rights. He had already started enquiries on behalf of Henry, who was expected to receive a sizable sum from the car part manufacturer’s insurer for injuries suffered. Opening two bank accounts on behalf of the boys was the very least of his problems. He was pleased to meet the pair and they climbed into the minibus and rode into Welwyn.

 

The bank supervisor introduced them to someone else. They went into a meeting room and learned how they would each have two accounts. One to receive their pensions and compensations and a current account to which the administrator would transfer five hundred a month from the other account. That would mean that if their bank card was stolen or misused, they might lose only a few hundred at most rather than the entirety of their money. It was clear enough. They would have control of their finances when they reached eighteen. Money due would immediately start appearing in their accounts and they could expect to receive their debit cards in the near future. Fred signed his application form and Henry created a promising scrawl, countersigned by the administrator. He downloaded a banking app onto their phones through which they could check their balances. Their business was over and they were escorted to the door.

            – That was easy, wasn’t it? You’ll soon be able to go shopping in town with the others and have some money for yourselves. I’ll make sure the accounts are working properly and let you know when the cards arrive. Do you want to do anything else while we’re in town? Otherwise, I suggest we get back and have lunch.

            – I think we’re ready for something to eat, right, Henry?

            – I’m starving.

 

Mrs Mitchell found them in the common room a little before one o’clock.

            – There you are. I’ve come to collect you for your first day back at school. As far as I understand, you have English first. You’ll get a timetable from the teacher so you know what to expect. Henry, we have a slightly different timetable for you because you need to learn to write again, but all that will become clear a little later. Come along – Henry, do you have your laptop with you? OK, good.

They went downstairs and into one of the four classrooms in A-Wing. It was a light and airy room, already occupied by several students, some of them familiar faces from the previous weekend. They sat at adjacent desks near the front and waited for the teacher. An elegantly dressed woman in her thirties walked in and the students with legs stood.

            – Do sit down, please. Ah, two new faces today. Welcome! You must be Henry and Fred but I don’t know which is which.

            – I’m Fred. He’s Henry.

            – Good. Thank you. My name is Miss Stanton. Now, you’re joining us a little late so you have some catching up to do. We’ve been reading Cannery Row by John Steinbeck. Have either of you read it, by chance? No? Never mind. Here are your copies. I think we had read chapter three, is that correct?

            – Yes, ma’am.

            – So would you read the first three chapters and then you’ll be able to join in. It shouldn’t take you more than an hour. The next lesson is on Thursday morning, so you have lots of time. Now, let’s talk about the story. Steinbeck is in familiar territory again with the workers on the north California shoreline, which he loved and where he based so many stories. From what you’ve read so far, do you think he was writing from imagination, or did he base his stories on things which had happened to him or he knew to have happened? Josh.

            – I think he was both using his imagination but he had real people he knew as a basis. It’s sort of unlikely that someone would create all these stories with these characters if they didn’t really exist.

            – David?

            – I think he knew the Doctor personally and wrote his novels based on funny things the Doctor had told him.

            – So the novels are not true accounts but based on true stories.

            – Yes. I think any of the characters would have recognised themselves.

            – Good point. What do you think about how the Doctor feels about Maria? Is it more imagination or do you think Steinbeck is describing the way he feels about someone he knew? It was about this time when Steinbeck wrote Cannery Row that his own marriage started to break down.

            – Could it be that his wife read the manuscript and got jealous?

            – Oh, that is a wonderful possibility! Perhaps she was reading too much into it, though. Maria had a very stern and formidable father, remember. 

The analysis continued until the end of the lesson. Fred and Henry listened to the other students pondering the relationship between the Doctor and his neighbour, Maria. Did the Doctor dare make his emotions known to her? It was fascinating. They would definitely get stuck into the book that evening and read at least to the end of chapter four. It was a slim volume, so it wouldn’t take long. Fred liked the teacher’s voice. She had a likeable accent too, sort of posh and a bit old-fashioned but it was nice.

            – So read chapter four for next Thursday and we’ll talk more about Steinbeck’s use of language. Henry and Fred, do you think you’ll have caught up by then?

            – Yes, ma’am. It sounds really interesting.

            – Good. I hope you enjoy it. So, the lesson is over. Until Thursday, good bye.

She collected some notes and strolled out.

 

Their next lesson was History. A middle-aged man strode in and some students stood, Henry among them.

            – Good afternoon, everyone. Two new students, I see. Good to meet you. My name is Hughes. I have some photocopies of the things we’ve been talking abut this term so far, just a second.

He took two slim sheaves from his briefcase and placed them on Fred’s and Henry’s desks.

            – We’ve been talking about Britain after the end of World War Two. The people of Britain, although they were grateful to Churchill for his leadership in the war, wanted something new and they threw him and his government out. Last week we looked at what the new government had planned and how the health service got its start.

Mr Hughes went on to explain how the huge number of disabled veterans forced the government to rethink old policies in order to get as many men back into work as possible. The country was bankrupt and the more taxpayers there were, the sooner the country could be fixed. The photocopies contained genuine articles published in newspapers at the time and the class discussed the ways in which the new government and the opposition had fought over socialised medicine and the help for amputee veterans and all other branches of medicine. Halfway through the lesson, Fred noticed that Mr Hughes’ left hand was a prosthesis. For the second half of the lesson, the students discussed the pros and cons of a national health service. Was it fair to tax ordinary healthy people more in order to pay for care for those who needed it? Was it logical for a bankrupt country to start something as expensive as a national health service at a time when there was bread rationing? It was something many of the students had never thought about, or even known about. And it affected all of them, even now. It sort of made the past more relevant and not just something which belonged to history. Hughes concluded his lesson and said that next time they would be talking about how Britain got the atom bomb and the vast price it paid to the United States to get it. Hughes thanked the class for their attention and left, raising his prosthesis in farewell.

            – Henry hey. This isn’t like normal school, is it?

            – No. I don’t know what’s going on. This is interesting.

            – Yeah. I don’t get it.

 

School was over for the day. The students made their way out of the classroom and back upstairs to their rooms or to the common room. Rick and Ralph had just sat down when Henry and Fred walked past. Rick called out.

            – Hey! Come in here! How’re you doing? How was your first day?

            – Hello. Long time no see. I was expecting to see you at Craig’s party on Friday.

            – Oh, that. No, we went once but it’s what you call an acquired taste. Was Cal there? Did they do The Act?

            – Fuck each other, you mean? Yeah.

            – I don’t care what they do to each other but I don’t want to watch it. Are you settling in OK otherwise?

            – Yeah. We just had a couple of really interesting lessons. Stuff I’d never heard of before.

            – I know. I think they still teach the boring stuff for the exams but they tell you about a lot of other stuff that other schools don’t bother with. I have to admit, it makes classes a bit more interesting.

            – Rick, I wanted to ask you about your legs. How soon after your amputations did you get your long legs?

            – These? Oh, about a year, I suppose. Why?

            – I was wondering when I might be rocking around on crutches like you. Did you have to start off on stubbies?

            – Oh yeah. I’ve got three pairs in my closet still. Each pair a bit taller than the last. Then when my prosthetist was satisfied that I could balance and walk OK, I got these ones. I don’t really walk on them, though, do I? I use the crutches for that. The legs are just sort of there to rest on between strides.

            – I’ve noticed that. I think it looks cool, the way you walk. It’s what I want to do, see? I have such short stumps I’m never going to be able to walk with long legs but I could easily crutch around like you. How long have you had yours?

            – Since March. If you want to talk to someone about getting new prostheses, just mention it to Mrs Mitchell and she’ll get on it.

            – Great. Have you ever thought about getting a bucket like Craig uses?

            – Yeah, sort of, when I was still on stubbies. But then I got legs and I’d rather use these than have to shuffle around on my hands again.

            – I see. Thanks, Rick.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Three months later, exam season was over and the summer holidays loomed. Teaching ceased for four weeks. Many students left to join their families or friends all over the country, leaving the parentless boarders behind. There were a dozen or so young amputees who craved a break from their normal routines. They were too young to be admitted into pubs and too old to be satisfied with a trip to Whipsnade Zoo. They were able to lie in later in the morning – breakfast was from seven thirty to nine thirty and lunch from one to two thirty. Dinner was at the same time as always. It felt like being on holiday. With so little to do, the guys spent more time with each other forging closer, more intimate relationships. An invitation to someone’s room to see their new drone or prosthesis was usually a euphemism for a sexual encounter. Being teenagers, needs and desires were frequent and strong. No-one found it objectionable. There was little moral difference between wanking alone or fucking your room-mate, especially if he then fucked you back. It felt better when you had a mate to do it with.

 

Henry brought the subject up one evening after dinner. They were lying on their beds reading when Fred noticed Henry repeatedly touching his penis. He looked uncomfortable.

            – Henry, hey. It looks to me like you need a wank.

            – Shit. I do. I can’t get rid of this erection.

            – Do you want to fuck me?

            – Like Cal and Craig, you mean? You wouldn’t mind?

            – No, I wouldn’t mind. Do you want to do it?

            – Yeah.

            – Come over here, then. Let me get your shorts off. Do you want your T-shirt off too?

            – Yeah, let’s be naked.

            – Alright.

Fred pulled his own clothes off and dropped them onto the floor.

            – Come on. You can keep your arms on. I don’t care. Lie down beside me.

Fred gripped Henry’s face and kissed him on the mouth. Their stubble rasped. Their tongues fought in their mouths for supremacy. Both young men were breathing heavily, snorting with pent-up desire for release. Fred fell onto his back and Henry mounted him. Their penises clashed urgently. Henry’s rigid penis, small and narrow, poked Fred’s groin and ball sac. Fred pushed Henry aside and turned onto his stomach. Henry shrugged and flailed, trying to force his elbows to ninety degrees and locking them so he could support himself on Fred’s back. He squirmed his genitals to Fred’s buttocks, where the body ended. Fred relaxed his anus and Henry’s penis plunged inside.

            – Ow! Careful!

            – Sorry.

Henry was losing his virginity. He had never fucked before but he had seen The Act often enough. He knew how to use his tool, small though it may be. Fred was enjoying feeling the sensation. It was almost like a finger. Thicker and softer. Henry’s dick could not reach Fred’s prostate, nor anyone else’s, but he was no less pleasurable. After almost a minute, Henry ejaculated and shouted in triumph. His body collapsed onto Fred’s back, his prostheses holding his chest up. Henry forced his arms to the side and lay panting on Fred for a minute.

            – Do you want to do it to me?

            – Do you want me to?

            – Yes.

            – Get off, then. Lay on your tummy.

Fred used his powerful arms to vault onto Henry’s back. Henry’s arms were crossed in front of him, touching. Fred told Henry to spread his arse as wide as he could. He flailed his lower body as his large penis, twice the size of Henry’s, sought the entrance. Precum lubricated Henry’s arsehole and Fred held on with his elbows as he pulled his torso forward and his penis inside Henry’s tight anus. Henry gasped and keened as his flatmate continued to enter his body. Fred was in. The engorged head of his penis squeezed Henry’s prostate, reawakening his erection. Fred fucked slowly at first and increased the frequency of his strokes as Henry’s colon lubricated with pre-cum. Fred sensed his own leglessness and his useless remnants of legs slipping on Henry’s thighs and tried to straddle him with his stumps. His penis was his entirety and he pounded as hard and as far as he could. Henry screamed in ecstasy and pain. Almost in panic, Fred fucked even harder and exploded with relief as his body pumped its reservoir of semen deep into Henry. He caught his breath, put his arms around Henry’s neck and kissed him from behind. His stubble scratched against Henry’s neck.

            – Was that OK?

            – Yes. Yes!

Henry had ejaculated again into his flatmate’s sheets. The whole bed was a wet mess.

            – Sleep with me tonight. You can’t sleep in this.

            – Alright, I will.

It was the first night they slept together and they rarely slept alone again for the entire time they spent at the school. They showered together later and spent the rest of the evening together with their duvets draped around their shoulders, watching videos of amputees on Fred’s laptop.

 

– – – – – – –

 

The new term approached. Several new students arrived during the final week of the holidays. One Saturday afternoon, Mrs Mitchell knocked gently on the door of Fifteen and Henry called out. The door slid aside and Mrs Mitchell entered, accompanied by a tall red-haired lad, his face covered in freckles and weighed down with two suitcases.

            – Hello Fred, Henry. Excuse the interruption. I’d like you to meet Duncan. He’ll be sharing your room with you. I hope you realise that you didn’t have the room to yourselves long term. Anyway. Duncan, choose which bed you’d like. I’m sure Henry and Fred will help you settle in. Do let me know if there’s anything you need help with, OK? I’ll leave you to it.

She turned and left, shutting the door behind her.

            – Hi Duncan! Welcome to our humble abode. What are you in for?

            – I was recommended to come here instead of going back to school.

He had such a strong Scottish accent that the others strained to understand. [Reproduced in standard English]

            – Oh mate, you’re gonna have to speak slowly. But it’s good to see you. Take a bunk and make yourself at home. We can help you unpack if you need some help.

            – That’s kind of you. I think I might sleep in this bed. Is this where I can put my things?

He pointed at the low closet and set of cupboards and drawers which each student had.

            – Yup. All yours. Duncan, are you disabled somehow? You look perfectly normal to me.

            – A ha nae lags.

            – So are you on artificial legs?

            – I am.

            – You should have worn a kilt so we could see them.

            – I have my kilts packed here with my jackets and shirts. I have the full highland dress. I was told that students here like to show off their artificial limbs so I thought it an opportunity to wear my kilt.

            – Great! Sounds like you’ll fit in just fine. Welcome to Room Fifteen. We’ve been in here since spring and it’s good to meet someone new.

            – I agree with Fred. It’s good to see you.

            – You’re very kind. I have a dram of whisky I smuggled in. Shall we have a tipple?

            – Oh man, you’re going to fit in really well. Yes, please. I’ll get some glasses.

Fred slipped down from his chair and fetched tumblers from his cupboard. Duncan threw a suitcase onto his bed and poked around until he found his bottle of Glenfiddich. He unscrewed the lid and lopped it into the corner.

            – We shan’t be needing that no more. Here’s to your good health.

He poured a generous slug of whisky into three glasses and raised his drink. He said something in Gaelic and emptied the glass in one gulp. Henry and Fred took their time, enjoying the fiery liquid.

            – How old are you, Duncan?

            – Seventeen. And you?

            – Sixteen. Sixteen and a half, I suppose. I’m a few weeks older than Henry.

            – So I’m the senior. You have to obey my wishes and take a drink when I say so. Now have another!

They held out their glasses for another slug. Duncan was not holding back.

            – I should get changed. What time is dinner?

            – We have another hour yet. It starts at five. We’ll show you where it is and what to do.

            – I was hoping on it. Well, I’m gonna get out of these ridiculous trousers and put my kilt on. You can see my legs then. I know you want to. I also have some stubbies with me. Just a wee bit longer than my kilts.

            – That would look fantastic.

            – Aye, it does.

Duncan put his glass down and returned to his suitcase. He pulled out a shirt with frills down the front and a green tartan waistcoat. Next he pulled out a kilt in matching tartan and swung it to make it settle into its plaits. He threw it onto his bed and sat down. He undid his belt and wriggled his trousers down until they lay wrinkled at his ankles. His artificial legs were on display. They were cosmetic legs, extending high into his groin, with symmetrically muscular calves. Their colour approximated that of a Celtic male. Pale with a reddish tinge. Whoever had chosen the colour had done a good job. They differed from natural legs by having a glossy finish. Duncan had insisted that his artificial legs should also look artificial despite their natural shape. Fred watched him.

            – Would you like some help, Duncan?

            – Well, yes. If you can pull the trews off my legs.

Fred stumped over and teased the trousers over Duncan’s shoes. He was wearing thick, off-white socks. Duncan took his trousers and threw them onto his bed. He pulled his socks up as high as they would go and pushed himself up. He picked his kilt up, swung it around his hips and fastened it. He took his shirt off and dressed in the traditional Scottish shirt. He put a waistcoat on and lifted his arms into the air.

            – This is how a man should look.

            – Pretty impressive. I like the way your legs shine.

            – Aye. It’s something I asked for. They said it would make it obvious that the legs are artificial and I told them to make sure they were exactly that.

            – You look fantastic.

            – What were you doing before I arrived?

            – Just watching some videos.

            – Show me.

He stepped across to the table and clunked down onto one of the chairs. Henry repeated the last video they had watched. A young quad explained in Spanish how he donned his four prosthetic limbs each morning, His mother and sisters hovered in the background. Finally the boy was dressed and pushed himself erect and went to the kitchen for breakfast. He ate nachos or maybe tacos with his hooks while his younger siblings stared at him. The video ended.

            – Imagine living like that, being stared at all the time. At least in this place you don’t have to worry about that.

            – Don’t people here stare?

            – Well, they do, but only to see how well you’re doing. They don’t stare as if to say What the fuck.

            – I understand.

            – Shall we go and meet some of them? Let’s go to the common room. You can unpack after dinner.

            – Let’s go! Henry, you coming?

            – Yep.

Henry turned the laptop off and picked his phone up. They went to the common room, where a few other guys sat chatting. They all stopped talking when they noticed the tall Scot enter. He beamed around the room, taking in the attention. Fred introduced him.

            – Meet our new room-mate Duncan. Just joined us from Scotland.

            – Come and join us. We were just discussing the benefits of long prossies versus stubbies. Looks like you might have some experience.

            – Well, I’ve had artificial legs for half my life, so I do have some experience. I like these long legs because I like being tall but I also like wearing stubbies because they’re easier to use and more comfortable.

            – That’s more or less the conclusion we came to. Stubbies are OK for knocking around in at school but long legs are better when we go into town. It’s a question of body image and how extrovert you are.

            – I never had a problem with that. I walked on stubbies for the first five years. They were a cross between stubbies and legs, really. The base was shaped as a kind of boot, not unlike a walking cast, and they were held on to my stumps by suction.

            – How long are your stumps, Duncan?

            – Half my thighs.

            – Ah, that’s a lot more than some of us have. Fred has short stumps and there are two guys here with bilateral disarts.

            – No legs for them.

            – No. They sit in torso buckets and use wheelchairs in public. At school they usually scoot around on their hands.

Fred spoke out.

            – I’ve been wondering what it’s like to use a torso bucket. I think my stumps are short enough that I might be able to get away with using one. I want to know what it feels like to be completely legless.

            – Why don’t you talk to your leg man about it? It wouldn’t take long to rustle up a socket for you if you can justify needing it.

            – Is that what it comes down to? Need?

            – Yeah. You don’t get stuff like that just because you want to try it out. And if you get a socket like that next year, say, you won’t be scheduled to get full-length prostheses after that.

            – It’s a bit of a conundrum, isn’t it? I do want a pair of full legs to use with crutches. I don’t think my stumps are long enough to let me walk in them on a day-to-day basis.

 

It was time for dinner. They went downstairs and Duncan was introduced to the group. He adjusted his attire so the guys could see what a Scotsman wears under his kilt. In Duncan’s case, two prosthetic legs. He received an especially loud welcome from his fellow amputees. Duncan’s height and dexterity was a useful addition to the Room Fifteen residents’ repertoire. He dished out a plate of food for Fred who could not reach and plated meals for himself and Henry and carried them to a table. He had several admiring glances from leg amputees who were beginning to consider what they would look like with their prosthetic legs on display under a kilt instead of wearing blatantly extrovert shorts. Duncan walked very well. He was obviously wearing artificial legs but he was stable and moved confidently.

 

They went back to Fifteen after dinner and Duncan filled his closet and cupboard with his things. He pushed the suitcases under his bed.

            – What do you do in the evenings?

            – We usually sit in the common room. Sometimes someone has a bottle and we have a drink.

            – Aye. We have a bottle. Shall we see if there’s anyone we fancy and invite them back for a taster?

It was an odd thing to say. Henry glanced quizzically at Fred who raised his eyebrows.

            – Come on then if you’re coming.

Craig and Cal were just starting a game of poker. They sat on the parquet floor in their torso sockets and slapped cards down. They looked up to see the trio watching them. Duncan sensed an affinity with this couple of half-men and asked them if he could make a threesome.

            – Sure. I have a shitty hand anyway. I don’t know how you want to sit.

            – I’ll take my legs off and join you.

He sat on the nearest sofa, detached his legs and stood them up. He leapt onto the floor and arranged his kilt to cover his stumps. Craig shuffled the pack and dealt five cards.

            – We’re playing Texas Hold ’Em. You know how to play, right?

            – I do indeed.

Duncan won the first two hands. He expected to win the third too but Cal had a better one.

            – Would you two gentlemen be interested in a nip of whisky after the last hand? I have an open bottle of Glenfiddich which needs drinking before it goes bad.

            – Now you’re talking. Let’s play one more round. I want to try to win at least once.

Henry and Fred had not been to the previous two sessions to witness The Act, partly because of the inevitable hangover which followed. They preferred their own version of it, gentler and less urgent. Now they had a new room-mate, it might be awkward to find an opportunity for spontaneous love-making. Unless Duncan wanted to watch them. They waited for the hand to finish in Duncan’s victory and they prepared to move. Duncan hauled himself onto the sofa, exposed his stumps for the first time and donned his legs. His well healed shapely muscular stumps covered in thick ginger hair were much admired by the other four. He pushed himself to his feet and they made their way down the corridor to Fifteen and closed the door.

 

Fred found his plastic tumblers and Duncan poured generously. They wished him welcome and a long life. Fred invited the torsos to sit on chairs where they might be more comfortable at the same height as the others. They agreed and Duncan lifted them carefully onto the revolving wooden chairs. Fred pulled himself onto his bed and Henry and Duncan joined him. Cal spoke to Henry.

            – How are you getting on with writing, Henry?

            – Not too bad. The teacher is very understanding, isn’t he? Regardless of what sort of a scrawl you create, he’s always full of praise.

            – It’s the effort he’s praising, not the results. But have you seen an improvement?

            – Yeah, I suppose. I can print fairly well with a felt-tip marker but my normal sized writing is fairly hopeless. And it’s difficult to hold an ordinary pen.

            – Slippery little fuckers, aren’t they? Did he make you do all the lines and zigzags and loops to start with?

            – Yeah. It seemed ridiculous at first but you can see how it’s good practice for writing words. My problem is having such short stumps. They’re much shorter than I wanted… Oh!

            – What? Shorter than you wanted? Are you saying you arranged your amputations?

            – Me and my big mouth. Sorry if you’re offended. It’s difficult to explain. I took the opportunity to lose my hands. I wanted fairly long forearm stumps, like Ralph’s. But something happened and instead of losing just my hands, I lost practically my entire arms. Oh, I still have little stumps. Do you want to see them?

Without waiting for an answer, Henry shucked his arms and let them clatter to the floor. The short sleeves on his T-shirt hid his stumps. He waggled them.

            – Those are even shorter than mine. So you wanted amputations and got them, just not the ones you wanted. And what did you think about that?

            – I was really disappointed at first but then I reasoned I wanted to use hooks and I would still be using hooks so I didn’t mind. I have no experience of using longer stumps like yours, Cal, so you might say I don’t know what I’m missing.

            – I didn’t know you did it on purpose, Henry. You’re a lot braver than I thought.

            – Thanks, Fred. Good of you to say so. I’ve been warned about letting on about why I’m an amputee. Please don’t tell anyone else.

They promised to keep schtum. At this rate, he would have soon told everyone anyway. But they were surprised at Henry’s admission. Duncan picked his prostheses up and helped Henry don them. He handed his tumbler of whisky back.

            – I’d like to make a toast to brave lads who go after what they want despite the pain. And I like your arms, Henry. They look very good on you. Now, who wants another drink? Who knows what other secrets we might hear?

 

There were no more surprises that evening. Craig persuaded the trio from Fifteen to attend the regular session in Twenty-Seven on the following Friday evening. They had nothing else planned yet and it was good policy to put in an appearance now and then. They could go into Welwyn to buy some drinks to take, something less high-octane than what Craig usually offered.

            – Duncan, do you have fake ID for buying alcohol?

            – Of course. It’s my brother’s driver’s licence. We both look the same although he’s four years older.

            – Would you mind going shopping with us on Thursday?

            – No, I’ll come with you to see the sights.

 

It was the first time Duncan wore his stubbies since he had arrived. Henry said he would prefer to stay in Fifteen so Fred and Duncan made a list of the drinks which they might enjoy on Friday and over the weekend. Duncan enjoyed a tipple more than the other two and liked to have something in reserve. Duncan, who wore trousers during the week, changed into his shortest stubbies after school on Thursday and put on a pair of cut-off denim shorts. He stood facing Fred and looked him squarely in the eyes.

            – Aye, we’re equals now. OK man, lead on.

 Fred took his backpack out of his closet and threw it over his back. They had fifteen minutes to get to the bus stop three hundred metres away and stumped in unison along the street. Duncan’s stubbies had short rubber feet and Fred’s had square rubber ferrules. They climbed aboard the bus and Fred used his card to pay for both of them. The driver waited until they were both seated before he moved off. Duncan wanted to ask Fred about Henry, mainly to see if he was the kind of man who told tales but the bus was full and he did not want to be overheard.

 

They returned ninety minutes later with a bottle of Polish vodka, another of the cheapest decent whisky, two bottles of red wine and a six-pack of beer. All except the whisky was for Friday’s session. They went to the dining room and made do with the remnants of the evening’s service. Fred had fish fingers and meatballs with rice and Duncan tucked into fish fingers, tomatoes and carrots. The cake was gone but the kitchen brought out an entire litre packet of vanilla ice cream for them and they demolished that.

 

There was homework to be done and they spent a quiet evening in Fifteen reading and making notes. Exam season was approaching and it was time to start getting serious. Duncan and Fred lay on their beds listening to the regular tap of Henry’s hooks on his laptop keyboard. All the school’s bilateral arm amputees had special dispensation to submit homework as text files which they uploaded to their folders on the school’s main server. They could also take advantage of spellchecking and had the entire internet at their command. Teachers scanned their texts regularly to find instances of plagiarism but the young men were honest and did not take such easy advantage. They knew that if they were denied the right to use their laptops in favour of written reports, their work would take ten times as long. Many of them had been encouraged to continually practise using their hooks to write with and several had quirky but legible, tidy handwriting. Henry was patient, seeing his own slow progress, and could sign his name in a consistent manner but he was extremely disabled as far as penmanship was concerned. Ten centimetres of stump at his shoulder was not enough to provide the dexterity for handwriting.

 

It was four thirty on Friday afternoon. The students were either in the common rooms planning the weekend or in their rooms showering and changing for an evening out in Welwyn. Fred and Henry waited in the common room with a few others, aimlessly watching a basketball game on tv. Duncan was in Fifteen, showering and dressing in full Highland gear. He had been wearing stubbies all week and promised to turn up on legs. Just after five, he rocked into the common room, sporran and all. Cal had arrived and Duncan chatted with him while Henry and Fred showered together.

 

Duncan had not mentioned it to anyone, nor behaved suggestively, but he was a life-long devotee. Even as a bairn, before he had been maimed in a road accident, he was fascinated by the shapes of men’s stumps after they had lost a limb. It was interesting to see how it was possible to make a replacement limb which the men could then wear on the stump. At nine years of age, the bus he was travelling on fell thirty metres into a crevasse on a slippery highland road. He was on his way to stay with his auntie for the weekend. The coachwork disintegrated and a sheet of panelling severed both his legs above the knee. He was thrown on top of another passenger, a Swiss tourist who staunched Duncan’s blood loss for as long as he could. Within half an hour, rescuers were on the scene and Duncan was flown by helicopter to Inverness Hospital where his stumps were cleaned and closed. He soon learned to walk on stubbies, like a cross between prosthetic legs and plaster casts, and wore them until he was fourteen. He had worn full-length prostheses for three and a half years and loved everything about disability through amputation. He was proud of his own stumps, well-proportioned, strong and hairy. He was happy that he would face life and be a man on artificial legs. But he was also fascinated by the utter leglessness of the bonnie lad sitting opposite him, gesturing with steel hooks, completely immobile in a plastic body shell.

            – I heard you’re coming to Twenty-Seven this evening. Craig mentioned that your lot are coming. And I invited Ralph and Rick as well. You know, the bearded guys with hooks.

            – Oh yeah, I know who you mean. One of them has artificial legs.

            – That’s Rick. DBK. And DBE, of course. That’s what you notice first, I suppose. It’s difficult to say what people notice first when they meet me, though.

            – They look at your handsome face, man.

            – Flatterer! I suppose they see the wheelchair first and foremost, then the hooks. Then the fact that I have no legs but they don’t know how legless I really am.

            – Do you mind it?

            – What?

            – Being legless?

            – No, man! You know the feeling when you rub your dickhead? How it makes you catch your breath? That’s what it feels like when I touch my torso stump. Everything that used to be my arse is rounded like an enormous dickhead.

            – Good god, man. You’re giving me an erection.

            – Wait till you see the Act.

            – What’s that?

            – I said wait and see. Tell me then about your erection.

            – It sounds very intriguing.

            – I’m impressed Henry hasn’t told you already. He’s a bit of a blabbermouth at times. Couple of drinks and you can get anything out of him.

            – Really? Good to know. Not that I have any secrets. At least, none that I wouldn’t mind someone like yourself knowing.

            – Like what, for example?

            – Ha! Like for example that I think you’re fucking sexy. I wanna have sex wi’ ya legless body.

            – Plenty of time for that tonight.

Duncan stared at him in amazement. It would be the highlight of his life to fuck Cal. He did not realise that he would also have an appreciative audience.

 

Mrs Mitchell was still in her office doing a touch of overtime. She wanted to finish the week’s business before she went home so she could spend a carefree weekend without thinking of outstanding work. The prosthetic supplier which the school had recently formed a partnership with had announced that it was ready to prepare a pair of legs for Fred Roberts and would appreciate his attendance the following week at two thirty on Wednesday. The premises were in Tring, not so far but not in the neighbourhood. Public transport between the two towns was non-existent so she booked a ride from the local taxi company and received confirmation. She checked her watch and reasoned that Fred might well still be in the building. She could let him know immediately. She went upstairs and knocked on the door of Fifteen. The boys were still naked, on their beds, resting before the strenuous evening ahead. Expecting one of the guys, Fred called out.

            – Come in!

            – Good evening, boys. I hope I’m not disturbing you too much.

Henry turned away as quickly as he could to hide his genitals from the matron showing her his backside and Fred pushed himself around to lay on his front.

            – No, not at all.

            – Oh, Fred, you are such a poor liar. Sorry. But I thought you might like to know that you have an appointment next week on Wednesday afternoon with the prosthetist to see about your full-length legs. I’ll tell you all about it on Monday. I just thought you might like to know as soon as possible. Have you got something planned for the weekend?

            – Yes, we’re meeting some friends later on.

            – Jolly good. Well, do enjoy yourselves. I’ll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you.

She left and the door clicked shut.

            – Oh, just imagine! You’re going to be on tall legs again.

            – I hope so. I’ll have to wait to see what the prosthetist says. Imagine me walking with my tiny stumps!

 

Henry placed two bottles of wine and a bottle of vodka into a carrier bag and picked it up in his right hook. The bottles clinked promisingly. He was wearing a pair of cut-off jeans and flip-flops. His prosthetic arms were against his naked skin. Fred had cut-offs. They left just after six for Twenty-Seven. The door was open. Henry held out his bag to Craig who thanked him and Fred. He handed it in turn to Peter who had set up their small bar in the bathroom. Bottles of alcohol were lined up on the worktop alongside the shampoos and aftershaves. Peter had a couple of lemons and a cocktail shaker for the professional touch. Duncan and Cal arrived next. Cal pushed himself inside. Duncan stood in the doorway for dramatic effect. He knew he looked handsome. He looked at his new companions.

            – Good evening to you. May I join you?

            – Come in, Duncan and sit down. Take the weight off your stumps. Will you have a drink?

            – Aye, I will that.

            – We start with vodka shots. Peter, are you ready?

            – Coming!

Peter brought out a small tray with eight shot glasses containing Polish vodka. He was wearing a claw today and his long trousers hid his AK prosthesis. Everyone took a shot glass and waited for their host, Craig, to speak.

            – I am very pleased to welcome Duncan to his first Act. It’s wonderful to see we have a man among us who has some dress sense. Duncan, just in case you haven’t met some of our guests yet, may I introduce you to Rick and Ralph, and our master of ceremonies Peter who will give you a drink. You came in with Cal, or Charles as he does not like to be known, and my name is Craig. Fred and Henry are well known to you. Now raise your glasses, gentlemen, to extend a welcome to our new friend, Duncan!

They all downed their first shot and Peter circulated with refills. Talk turned to practical matters and Fred told them about the slightly embarrassing encounter with Mrs Mitchell.

            – But with any luck, I’ll be walking tall in a few weeks.

Everyone was happy for Fred. It was a huge transition to go from stubbies to full-length legs, even if using them required crutches.

            – If I can get around on legs as well as Jack, I’ll be really happy.

            – That would be cool. Have you seen Jack’s stumps? No? Put it this way, they’re shorter than his dick. If he can do it, so can you.

            – I’m looking forward to trying. Peter! Can you take these shot glasses and bring Henry and me some of the wine, please?

No-one had commented but Henry was very pleased with the way he had handled the small narrow shot glasses without spilling any of the expensive liquid. He was mastering his prostheses. They were doing what he wanted them to, rather than restricting what he could do. The guys chatted for an hour or so until everyone began to feel merry. Without prompting, those sitting on Craig’s bed stood and moved elsewhere in the dorm when he vaulted from his wheelchair. The Act was beginning. Cal rolled his chair to face the bed and Craig pulled the rigid shell with its black carbon arms and hooks onto his bed. Peter stepped forward to assist in the removal of Cal’s prosthetics. He stacked the four socket halves on top of each other, placed the arms into them and took them into the shower stall out of the way. Lying prone on the bed, Craig pulled Cal’s T-shirt off and removed his own. The legless torso stumps squirmed into position and Craig worked his way onto Cal’s back. Everyone watched with interest, as always, but Duncan was astonished. The torsos were directly opposite him and he had a front seat view of the performance. He had never seen such major amputations before and was initially fascinated. Watching the guys’ movements, he felt a flood of erotic desire and compulsion. His penis was erect, twitching with need. He moved his kilt which slid easily over his glossy legs and twisted his sporran to one side. He gulped a swig of whisky and watched Craig’s attempts to find Cal’s anus with his rigid penis. Cal’s short stumps pawed at the bed. Craig continued to seek entry to Cal’s arsehole and Duncan sensed their frustration. He could easily help but dared not interfere. He wanted to be in Craig’s place right now, fucking the limbless torso, shouting with relief from pent-up desire. He watched the two torso stumps gyrating passionately. Two backsides which had been reshaped into single stumps with no buttocks. The anus was the only feature and Craig was struggling. If only he could push his hips higher. Finally! His cockhead found Cal’s arsehole and Craig pulled himself forward. Cal shouted in relief. Craig fucked slowly at first, enjoying the sensations as Cal clenched his muscles. The rhythm increased and a couple of minutes later, Craig tensed, ejaculated and fell against Cal’s torso, waiting for his penis to become flaccid before pulling out. The men changed positions and Cal mounted Craig to repeat the performance. Duncan watched in awe as the mutilated bodies writhed and fulfilled their promise. Cal reached climax and allowed himself to roll off Craig. They lay together, face to face, grinning, spent. Peter took them to the shower stall and moved their prosthetics onto the floor outside. He washed them both, dried them and helped them back into their torso sockets. Craig handwalked back to join the others and Peter lifted Cal into his wheelchair and helped him don his hooks.

 

Duncan looked at the others’ reactions. They had all seen previous Acts and were prepared psychologically. Duncan, however, was completely thrown. So many unexpected things in such a short time. He poured himself another whisky and sat trembling in his confusion. The Act was surprising and even shocking but at the same time he had a strong urge to fuck Cal too. Cal’s arm stumps were the factor which made him more desirable in his eyes than Craig. He stood up, repositioned his sporran and joined the others.

 

Next morning, Fred asked Duncan what he thought of the previous evening.

            – It’s a great way to spend a Friday night with your mates and a decent bottle of the hard stuff.

            – That’s not what I was referring to, Duncan.

            – You mean the torsos fucking? Aye, it was quite a sight. I’d like to be with Cal, to be honest with you. He’s a very handsome man.

            – Ah, OK. I wondered if you were offended or upset.

            – No, I’m not offended in any way. It’s good of you to ask. Now, what do we do on a Saturday? Shall we go into town? I’ve not been there for more than fifteen minutes. Will you come with me and show me around? We can have lunch out too.

            – Sounds like a good idea. Henry, do you want to come into Welwyn with us?

            – Sure.

 

They spent an enjoyable day in town. Duncan wanted to visit the library and applied for a membership card. They sauntered around a couple of department stores and had lunch in an Italian restaurant. After buying some more whisky from a well-stocked supermarket, they caught the bus back to school and spent the rest of the afternoon tasting several glasses of Duncan’s favourite tipple. They were a little drunk at dinnertime, but not so much that other people noticed. Cal and Craig wheeled themselves in and Fred beckoned them over.

            – Great time last night, you two. Thanks a lot. Do you want to come round to ours after dinner?

            – Well, there’s not much else on the agenda so we’ll drop in around seven. Have you got any booze?

            – I have some whisky but if you want to bring a bottle, the more the merrier.

            – See you later then. I think we have some vodka left over from Friday.

 

Duncan had intended to keep his highland costume on until bedtime but decided that he’d change into something more overt. He hung his kilt and jacket up, swapped the blouse for a T-shirt and replaced his legs with his longest stubbies. They had thick white plastic feet and looked clinical. He put on his cut-offs and waited for the guests to arrive. Henry cleared debris from the beds so they would not need to sit among dirty laundry.

 

Craig and Cal arrived, both naked except for their torso sockets and Cal’s arm prostheses. Craig had a canvas bag on his wheelchair which he handed to Fred. The contents clinked. There was half a bottle of rum and a half of vodka.

            – I don’t have any mixer, sorry.

            – No matter. We drink it neat, anyway. Hiya, Duncan. You look different. Nice legs!

            – Ach, these old things. I thought I’d give them an airing.

He wiggled the stubbies up and down. The real reason he was wearing them was because they were quick to remove if the chance for some action with Cal arose. They both looked ready for another Act with nothing more than their black carbon “waistcoats”. Fred poured everyone a drink and they raised a toast to weekends.

            – Are you comfortable in your chairs? Would you prefer to sit on the beds with us?

            – I’d like to sit next to Duncan, if you don’t mind, mate.

            – Of course. Hop over.

            – Don’t fuck about, Duncan. You’ll have to fetch me if you want my irresistible company.

            – Don’t take on so. Can’t you see I’m legless?

            – Stop bitching, you two. Sit tight, Duncan.

Fred positioned his stubbies carefully and lifted Cal onto the bed next to Duncan. They fell together sniggering.

            – Take your stubbies off. I don’t like my men to have legs.

Duncan laughed and pulled them off. He had been wearing them for about fifteen minutes. Cal put his left hook around Duncan’s neck and pulled him down onto the bed. The two truncated men faced each other and muttered to each other. The others left them alone and concentrated on having a drink. Henry turned his laptop on and showed them a few recent videos he had marked as favourites. Craig appreciated seeing a legless young guy in a torso socket, much like his own with reciprocating artificial legs attached, walking across a room with crutches. He was slow but the feet moved forward as he tilted his body from side to side. His grin showed what he thought of the experience. Craig considered the practicality of such equipment. Maybe a wheelchair was better for everyday use. Strapped into his own lightweight model, he could keep up with all his friends when they were out, reliant on them only when faced with kerbs and steps. He did not have the lower body weight necessary to perform wheelies. He would tip over backwards if he tried.

 

Duncan had progressed to the stage where Cal had invited him to remove his carbon shell. The torso still wore his artificial arms but Duncan was exploring the lower body. He had large hands. They were warm and Cal was ecstatic with the sensations as Duncan caressed his stump. He was much more sensuous than Craig. His erection stiffened and pulsed and twitched. Duncan lay on his front and enveloped Cal’s tool in his mouth. Cal flailed and his left arm hit the wall with a mechanical smack. It caught the others’ attention and they paused to watch Duncan’s performance. He was oblivious of his audience. While his tongue explored Cal’s penis, his fingers explored the broad soft stump. Cal tried to writhe in ecstasy but his extreme limblessness could not oblige him. His torso was at Duncan’s command and he relinquished his body completely to his lover in his own limbless nirvana. He ejaculated into Duncan’s mouth. Duncan swallowed cum as Cal’s body expressed its pleasure. He waited until the orgasm was complete, withdrew, smacked his lips and licked the last drops of sperm from Cal’s softening tool. He pushed himself up the bed with his muscular thigh stumps and lay next to Cal. He kissed Cal’s forehead and Cal threw an arm prosthesis across Duncan’s body as if to caress him. Duncan understood the gesture and cuddled Cal’s naked torso closer to his own body. Fred, Craig and Henry silently withdrew and left the couple in peace.

 

Administrator Wilson collected Fred on Wednesday morning and they drove to their new prosthetic limb manufacturer in Tring. He explained to reception and again to the prosthetist that a taxi would arrive to collect Fred at twelve thirty and he hoped proceedings would be ready by then. The prosthetist, Sanjit Kumar, promised they would be and Wilson left.

 

Kumar started by discussing what Fred hoped to achieve with his new legs.

            – I would like to be able to support myself on crutches so I am as tall as I would be naturally. I want to walk by throwing my artificial legs forward and following up with the crutches.

            – So you would be most reliant on the crutches?

            – Yes. The leg are only for support. So they don’t need to be top-of-the-range technical marvels. Just something with reliable knees which won’t collapse easily. My stumps are very short and I don’t think I’d be able to walk on artificial legs without sticks or crutches.

            – You may be surprised by what you are capable of. Let me see how well you walk on your stubby legs, please.

Fred slid off his chair and paraded up and down in front of the prosthetist. His twenty centimetre long strides were regular and controlled but pitifully short and walking any longer distance called for stamina and endurance.

            – I understand your situation, Fred. I will inspect your stumps and we can decide on the way forward. Is there anything else which comes to mind?

            – Well, not as far as my legs are concerned but there is something which has been tormenting me since I started at the school and I don’t know what to do about it.

            – And what is that?

            – You know the sort of body sockets which legless men use? I mean when both legs have been disarticulated, I think they call it.

            – Yes, I know the kind of equipment you mean. It encloses the body like a corset and provides a base for the body to sit on.

            – Yes, exactly that. Well, to cut a long story short, I want one.

Fred looked at Kumar’s expression. He had never been asked for a torso socket before. He stared back at Fred and smiled.

            – I will share a little secret with you. I have always been curious about how well an amputee such as yourself with short stumps would adapt to using a torso socket instead of stubbies. You could use crutches to propel your socket considerably faster than you can walk presently. Let me examine your stumps now and I will try to evaluate the likelihood of success. Please come over to the casting chair and sit down. Take your stubbies and shorts off, please.

Sitting in his underpants, Fred splayed his stumps. Kumar peered at them closely and felt the underlying muscle tissue.

            – These are indeed very minimal. You are lucky to be able to wear stubbies, I believe. I see you wear elasticated belts. Do you find them comfortable?

            – Yes, they’re fine.

            – I have another suggestion for your long prostheses. We could make you a harness, not unlike ordinary suspenders for holding up your trousers. They would be leather, brown or black – you can choose. And they would hold your legs on. There is of course an elastic component to maintain tension. Would you be interested in testing the suspenders? It will be quite possible to revert to elasticated belts if you are dissatisfied.

            – Yes, I like the idea of the legs being attached like that.

            – Very well, I shall take that into account. For the knee mechanism, I suggest we use the inexpensive composite model developed by an Indian-American collaboration. It is more than adequate for the kind of usage you envisage. It will keep the cost of your legs very low. What kind of legs do you want? Will you be satisfied with bare steel pylons or would you prefer something resembling natural legs?

Fred had not given it any thought. He assumed his legs would be simple tubular steel. The idea of having artificial legs which actually looked like legs had not occurred to him.

            – You know, I’d like it if my legs looked more natural.

            – Very good. We shall give you shapely muscular calves which will attract the ladies on the beach.

Fred could not think of anything less likely to happen nor less desirable.

            – I am going to scan your stumps now and I also need to scan your body for the body socket. Do you want to be in a sitting position in the socket or would you prefer to have your stumps aligned with your body? In the latter case, your socket will be a little longer. Remember, the sitting position is more suitable for a wheelchair.

            – I think I would prefer the latter case.

Fred was embarrassed to notice that Kumar’s slightly odd speech patterns were contagious.

            – Very well. You will have a longer stride with crutches in that case. If you wish, you can have extensions under the socket to make you slightly taller. Something like short stumps. Would you like that if your socket had built-in stumpy legs? Think about it.

Kumar fetched his camera scanner and called out.

            – I need you to be naked for the body scan, please.

Fred pulled his underwear off and removed his T-shirt. Kumar approached and asked Fred to pull himself up into the steel frame and hold it. He scanned each stump and adjusted the camera.

            – Hold your position for a moment. Good. Now can you push yourself higher.

Kumar took thousands of reference points from all over Fred’s torso and stumps. Once in the computer, artificial intelligence would construct the ideal shape for Fred’s new artificial legs, the leather suspension system and the torso socket. The components would be printed in high density bioplastic and the first test sockets would be ready by the end of the following week. The torso socket would take longer because of the time required to print such large components, assuming the prints did not fail halfway through. Three dimensional printing was perfect for producing precise custom prosthetics but was frustratingly unreliable.

            – I need you to make a decision about having the short legs under the torso socket. I can add cylindrical legs up to fifteen centimetres high.

            – I’d like ten centimetre long cylinders, please.

            – I agree, they look the most aesthetic. The cylinders are twelve centimetres in diameter. This is a size which we have found to provide maximum stability.

            – They sound very good.

            – Excellent. I will inform your administrators when your legs are ready for fitting and testing and if you are happy with them, you will walk out of here a tall man.

            – On crutches.

            – Indeed.

 

After waiting for forty minutes in the lobby, Fred returned to school in the pre-ordered taxi. He was excited about his new prosthetics and new body image, especially the torso socket. He would be able to experience how Cal and Craig got about and lived their lives. He would have something in common with the most disabled men at school. He realised he had quite a crush on Craig. He was by far the more manly of the two totally legless students, more outgoing and brash than Cal, who was additionally restricted by his prosthetic arms.

 

Duncan and Cal spent more time with each other, seeking the other out during leisure time. Their schedules were different during school hours. Cal was specialising in electronics and physics, but Duncan had not yet decided what he wanted to concentrate on. His performance, like that of all the other students, was continually evaluated, allowing the administration to draw up viable courses for their severely handicapped students. It was essential to give them the best possible education so they would have an advantage in future when competing for employment.

 

Duncan shared Cal’s bed on several occasions. Their leglessness allowed them plenty of room for experimenting with their bodies and their sexuality. Cal enjoyed fucking Duncan’s stumps. He clenched them and Cal humped the cleft. Duncan never tired of seeing Cal’s torso stump. It was such an unusual and alien configuration. It made his own and other amputees’ stumps seem normal. Duncan paid Cal’s arm stumps a lot of attention before fucking him. It was their form of foreplay. The short stumps held their own unique phallic attraction. Duncan occasionally asked Cal to wear his prosthetic arms during their lovemaking. The touch of cool steel hooks on his body was exciting and he liked being hugged by the rigid arms when their orgasms were spent. Duncan bent his stumps so that they cradled Cal’s leglessness.

 

Craig and Fred accepted that their best friends had become mutual lovers. They been introduced by coincidence – Fred and Henry maimed at the same time, and Craig and Cal shared the same extreme amputation. Henry was perfectly aware of the situation but seemed less interested in finding himself a partner. He had his friends and enjoyed spending time with Rick and especially Ralph, but there was nothing intimate. Fred was forging a mature friendship with Craig. There would be time for a deeper relationship later. For now they were happy with each other’s brotherly company.

 

Word arrived that an appointment had been made for a fitting of Fred’s new legs. With any luck, he would be standing at his natural height by Friday evening. The same administrator drove him to Tring and handed him a taxi voucher for the return journey. He would have to call one himself when his procedure was complete. He rocked into the building on his stubbies and waited a few minutes for Dr Kumar to collect him.

 

Fred saw his legs immediately as they entered the lab. Thanks to the cosmeses, they looked very much like natural legs with a handsome muscular curve in the calves. The finish was matte and the colour was fairly realistic.

            – Sit here, please, and remove your outer clothing and stubbies.

Fred placed them on the couch just behind him. Kumar brought the legs closer and fetched the leather harness and braces from his workbench.

            – Put this on first. It will make attaching the legs a little easier. Next you need stump socks, just as you do with your stubbies. Here is a pair of three-ply. We’ll try them first.

Fred pulled the tight socks onto his meagre stumps and Kumar offered him the left leg. Together they fitted the prosthesis and Kumar attached it to the harness with Velcro straps. One strap at the front, another at the rear. The foot pointed upward in the unmistakable way of prosthetic feet. It had a rubber slipper on it with a low heel, intended as a temporary shoe until the user replaced it with his own footwear. Kumar repeated the procedure with the right prosthesis and then asked Fred to lift himself by using the frame surrounding the chair. Kumar removed the chair and Fred stood, holding tightly onto the frame, beaming in pleasure at being so tall again.

            – Lower your weight slowly. How do your stumps feel? Is anything hurting?

            – No, everything is fine so far.

            – What type of crutches would you prefer?

            – I’d like the long ones which come up to the armpit.

            – Axillary crutches. Very well. Please wait while I fetch a pair for you.

He returned from his storeroom with a pair of aluminium crutches with black leatherette pads. He eyed their length and adjusted them. Fred placed them under his arms and leaned on them. He felt himself fully equipped for a walk into town.

            – I want you to move to the parallel bars first. Three steps. Keep your knees rigid and rock yourself like you do on your stubbies. Use the crutches for balance.

It was unorthodox of Kumar to require his patient to walk on untested prosthetic limbs and crutches before trying their suitability between the bars but he saw no reason not to in Fred’s case. A strong and determined young man would see it as a challenge. With Fred in position, Kumar removed the crutches and Fred held onto the parellel bars. Kumar instructed him in the theory of operating the legs. The knee mechanism was designed to maintain stability for ninety percent of its range. It would bend only when pressure on it fell below a certain threshold. Fred kicked his right stump and felt the additional tension in his harness brace. The foot moved forward a few centimetres. Then the left, pausing to feel the sensations in his stumps and around his shoulders as the suspension system bore the weight of the prosthetic legs. Fred moved slowly forwards and turned around at the end. He had not succeeded in swinging either knee. The legs remained securely rigid, just as he had described wanting. He turned again and adopted the rocking motion he used with his stubbies. The rigid legs swung forward and the weight on the harness alternated from side to side.

            – You are doing very well. Do you feel any chafing or pinch points?

            – No. The sockets are very comfortable so far. I can feel the extra weight on the harness but it’s not chafing.

            – Good. Make sure you always wear some clothing under the harness. We can add extra padding to it if it becomes uncomfortable. Of course, this is something you may also do yourself. Please do another circuit and keep your head up. Look ahead, not at your feet. Watch yourself in the mirror.

Fred walked back and forth a couple more times and stopped. Kumar considered demanding more practice but the boy seemed to understand the basics.

            – Can you stand without holding the bars? Be careful. Very good. How does that feel? Do you sense that you will fall backward?

            – It feels firm and flat. I don’t know how to describe it but I don’t think I would fall.

            – Good. Do you want to try using the crutches?

Kumar explained the correct way to use long axillary crutches. The crutches would hold his weight and his feet would always align with the rubber ferrules at the tips. It was important to achieve a regular rhythm to walk comfortably. He could use the crutches alternately, left right left right, or together and swing his legs forward keeping them together.

            – Yes, that’s how I want to walk. I have a friend at school who gets around like that.

            – You must ask him to give you some hints and advice. You are in a good environment to learn more. Please try walking with the crutches as you wish to walk.

Fred placed the crutch tips about forty centimetres in front of him and held firmly onto the crossbars. He leaned forward and raised himself. His new legs swung forward and came to rest by the crutches. Several minutes later, he became bolder and tried swinging the crutches more quickly. Surprisingly, it made walking easier. The momentum helped maintain his rhythm. Fred crossed the lab once, twice and remembered to keep his head up. He caught sight of himself in the tall mirror and was delighted with what he saw. He was walking exactly as he had planned since he first saw Jack.

            – Let us take a break. Please come and sit down. I will order tea.

Sitting was the next challenge. Fred stood precariously on his rigid feet and let his crutches drop against the sofa. He put his hands behind him and allowed himself to fall backwards. Halfway down, his knees buckled and he sat a little heavily. He looked at his legs and straightened them slightly. It was shocking and novel to see the artificial limbs. If he were wearing trousers, no-one would realise that he was legless. He began to imagine how he was going to get up again. Dr Kumar arrived with two mugs of tea and some sugar cubes.

            – How do your legs feel?

            – They’re ok. They feel odd but they’re not uncomfortable. The harness is a little stiff but I suppose the leather will soften.

            – Yes, it will. It is very important for you to inspect your stumps every day. If you see redness or if they feel sore, you must stop using the legs until your stump heals. You do own a wheelchair, I assume?

            – Yes, of course. At school I usually wear the stubbies, though. I get around on those OK with the other legless students.

            – Very good. Please remember to be careful. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your torso socket. I have created a prototype, a virtual model, which we can look at later. I have added short legs to its base, so if you wear shorts over the socket, it will seem as if you have short stubbies. They do not move, of course. You must use a pair of short crutches to ambulate. I have applied for permission to produce the equipment for you and I am waiting for official permission. But I expect it to be granted. Then everything will be legal and above board. It is better to be honest in life.

            – How long will the printing take?

            – I anticipate about thirty-six hours in total. After that, I will attach some closure straps and you can come for a fitting.

            – It sounds really exciting. I’m looking forward to trying it.

            – Yes, I understand. I too am interested to see how you take to being so extremely disabled.

            – My friends hardly pay any attention to it. They are grateful for being able to move around, walking on their hands.

            – It is gratifying to know that we can make such a difference to peoples’ lives. Now, if you are ready, shall we continue? I need you to stand. I suggest you use the crutches for support. Make one of your legs straight so the knee is rigid and try to pull yourself up onto it. Don’t worry if it seems difficult.

Fred adjusted his left knee to ninety degrees and straightened the right. He held on to the crossbar of his crutches and positioned them each side of him and strained to raise his body. He fell back and reconsidered his strategy. After several attempts, Fred was up and quickly spread his crutches to maintain balance.

            – You may need to practise that. I can tell you now that standing up will always present a challenge. It is easiest if you have support like the back of a chair or someone’s arm. How do you feel about walking some more?

            – Sure.

            – I want you to walk to the wall and back as straight as you can. I want to see if the legs need realignment.

Fred did as he was asked. Kumar’s keen eye was looking for unwanted rotation of the feet. However, the method which Fred was using to walk made it difficult to discern any possible discrepancies. He was walking as well as could be expected and the feet were flat at the end of his stride. Kumar was satisfied and a little impressed.

            – You are doing very well, Fred. I am ready to allow you to take the legs and crutches with you. Sign this for me and you’re free to go. I’ll send you a message directly when your socket is ready for testing. Would a Saturday morning suit you?

            – Yes, that would be best.

            – Very well.

Fred dressed and put his stubbies into his backpack. The men walked to the lobby and shook hands. Fred phoned for a taxi and remained standing until it arrived outside the door. He put his crutches in the boot and sat in the front with the driver, conscious that the driver continually looked at his motionless legs. His feet pointed up in the distinctive unnatural way of artificial legs. Fred found it fascinating and the driver did too. He helped Fred out and onto his feet and handed him the backpack and crutches. He took the taxi voucher and bade Fred a nice day. Fred crutched towards the door, swinging his left leg first and then the right and following with the crutches. He used a crutch tip to press the door release button and went inside where the security guard watched him with a smile.

            – What’s the weather like up there?

            – Ha! Much improved.

            – Good to see you walking, mate.

 

Fifteen was empty when he got there. The others were still in classes obviously. Fred took advantage of a little peace and quiet to practise walking up and down the long corridor, improving his balance and stride and experimenting with different ways of utilising the legs. He liked the way he had originally tried best – raising his body slightly and kicking his stumps left right so the legs moved forward in turn and then catching the momentum with his crutches. It felt good, natural and easy to maintain. He tried it over the fifty metres to the other end. And again. He practised various ways to turn. He could finally turn around in two stages and was pleased with that. It was three forty-five. The others would be out soon. He went into Fifteen and changed his long jeans for a pair of cut-offs. He returned to the corridor and walked some more for the fun of it. He could see his reflection in the window at the end of the corridor and loved his new four-limbed appearance. He imagined himself crutching through a shopping mall in Welwyn next weekend, at eye height with everyone else, a young guy on crutches. He ought to try to get Jack to come with him, the pair of them swinging along on four artificial legs. Noise from downstairs meant that school was out. He strolled along to the common room and rested on his crutches, looking out the window at the way the wind rattled the trees.

 

Rick and Ralph arrived first and cried out with delight at seeing their good friend standing on two legs for the first time.

            – You look fantastic. How do they feel? Can you walk in them?

            – I’ve been practising. It feels great. I’m getting the gist of it. I want to walk just like Jack does, you know how he does it.

            – Yeah. It looks really good the way he walks. Can you give us a demonstration?

Fred leaned on his crutches to lift his legs enough to turn around. He crutched over to the door, conscious of his small audience, careful to alternate kicking his stumps, forcing the legs forward at a slightly different rate. The aluminium crutches glinted in the sun from the window. Fred turned again and returned to the window.

            – Well done, Fred. Looks like you’ve nailed it. Keep at it and you can ditch your stubbies.

            – Oh, I won’t do that. I like using them too much. It’s great to have a choice now though to be tall or short. And there’s something else on the way in a few weeks.

            – A pair of roller skates?

            – Ha! No, a torso socket. Like Cal and Craig have. Except mine is going to have little legs under it. Little stubbies to stand on. They’re part of the socket so they don’t move. And I’ll have a pair of short crutches to stomp around on.

            – Wow! That will be something worth seeing. I bet you’re looking forward to getting it.

            – Yeah, I am. The way I see it is that a man who is so severely disabled as I am needs as many prosthetic alternatives as possible.

            – Yeah, you disabled legless fucker! Collect the whole set.

            – I knew you would understand. Right, I’m off to Fifteen to show off to Duncan and Henry. See you later.

They watched him leave the common room into the corridor where other students passed appreciative comments on his new legs. He went into Fifteen and sat down carefully on one of the chairs after spinning the seat up to a practical height. He turned and switched on his laptop.

 

Dr Gupta reviewed the design of Fred’s bucket with the facility’s prosthetic technician. They ran stress tests on the bioplastic material taking into account the necessity of repositioning the lower seam to accommodate the stubby legs. Half inch rubber pads would be fixed to the end of the legs which could be reshaped if necessary to account for wear patterns. The patient’s leg stumps would not touch the socket’s base. He would be held tightly by the socket which conformed to his rib cage. The young man would be wearing a rigid corset. They designed a removable panel for Fred’s genitals which was deliberately slightly oversized. It was suggestive. Gupta and his colleague thought Fred might appreciate the gesture. Time for a long print was available later in the week, overnight and again from Sunday afternoon to Monday noon. Assuming the prints were successful, Fred might be able to collect his equipment by Wednesday afternoon. Strapping and the rubber feet required time to be fitted and cured.

 

The socket stood in the middle of the lab floor when Fred crutched in on the following Saturday morning. He was wearing stubbies, mindful that his long prostheses would be too burdensome to carry on the return. The socket also appeared to be equipped with stubbies. Two short cylindrical legs extended from the crotch. Fred stopped to admire them. If the socket fit, he would walk out wearing it. He looked at Gupta who was watching his reaction and grinned.

            – That really is exactly what I meant. Thank you very much.

            – Let us hope it fits you properly. I have a pair of shortened crutches for you which you will need to move yourself around.

            – I can’t wait to try it out.

            – In that case, we shall do so immediately. Please get onto the lower couch and remove your stubbies and underwear. Keep your T-shirt on, please. You should wear a body sock with the socket, Fred. But if you have a tightly fitting T-shirt, it will serve the same purpose.

Gupta fetched the socket from the middle of the room and separated the two halves.

            – We designed this so you can attach this yourself. First place the back half behind you and lay back into it. The front part holds the stubby legs. There are velcro closures between the legs and along the sides. They need to be as tight as possible without the socket beginning to pinch. Twist yourself around to face to the left and we can begin.

Gupta placed the back half of the torso socket behind Fred and invited him to lean back and lower himself into it. When it was correctly placed, Gupta held the front half for Fred to position himself. Its sculptured form allowed only one position. The front part of the shell clacked into place and Gupta tightened the straps, explaining what he was doing. Fred moved his leg stumps. They touched the front and back inner surfaces of the socket but were otherwise suspended.

            – Now push yourself up. You have a little extra height thanks to the stubby legs. Can you manage?

Gupta embraced Fred’s torso and helped pull him upright onto his short stubbies. Fred had a sturdy erection which barely touched the codpiece as it throbbed. He glanced down to see if he was making an embarrassment of himself but saw only black carbon and the bulge of his codpiece. He felt how the socket squeezed his ribs for support. It felt very odd but he could understand how it was the equivalent of any other socket which had to be supported from higher up the limb or body.

            – I’m going to lift you onto the floor. Put your hands around my neck.

Fred was gently lowered to the floor and tested his balance. He tried to walk. His short stumps moved inside the socket but he stayed firmly in place. Gupta handed him a pair of shortened elbow crutches.

            – These are essential for you to walk. Take very small steps at first. Find your balance. This is a new sensation for you and something you must work on by yourself. There is no-one who can give you more than the most general advice.

            – No, I understand that.

            – Is the socket comfortable?

            – Yes, it feels very good. It’s tight but it’s a secure sort of feeling, not squeezing. Sorry if that doesn’t make much sense. It’s hard to describe.

            – The important thing is that nothing is pinching or chafing. Try walking with the crutches.

Fred tightened his grip of their crossbars and placed the tips just in front and to the side. He lifted his body and the socket moved forward ten centimetres and came to rest on the immovable black stubby legs. He repeated the action and slowly moved across the room. He turned in several stages and returned, attempting slightly longer strides.

            – Keep your head up, Fred. Look straight ahead.

Fred continued crutching. The socket made a satisfyingly sold clunk as the rubber-coated stubbies hit the floor. He was walking exactly as he had expected. He would be a little taller than Craig and Cal, who relied on flat-bottomed sockets to hold themselves upright. Fred reached the far wall again and jerked himself around, enjoying the vibrations which transferred to his very erect penis, the tip of which touched the inner surface of his impressive codpiece. He felt he was going to ejaculate pretty soon. He returned to the couch where Gupta was sitting, watching him.

            – How am I doing?

            – You know that yourself. I believe you have the movements correct. You are walking and maintaining your balance. You must now consider practicalities. Without legs, your arms will be reserved for ambulation. You will not be able to carry your food at dinnertime, for example. You will find sitting on a chair at table inconvenient because of your excessive height, although of course you may have access to a lower chair to stand on. Have you thought about how you are going to get home, if you choose to wear the socket?

            – I’ll just have to lie down on the back seat of a taxi, won’t I?

            – You will have to rely on the taxi driver to lift you in to his vehicle, will you not? Are you willing to relinquish your independence in such a way?

            – I don’t have much choice, do I? I am legless. A helpless torso.

            – It is a choice you can make. You are very fortunate to have stumps. You can use your stubby legs to keep your hands free. I suggest you return to school wearing your stubbies and practise more with the new socket after you are safely home.

            – Oh, OK. I see what you mean. If you can tie the socket halves and the crutches into some kind of bundle, I can take them with me.

            – I can do that. Do you feel yourself ready to face the world in your socket?

            – Yes, I do. I have my two good legless friends to help me if I have any questions. They might even want built-in legs of their own after they see this socket. Just to be a little taller.

            – They might indeed. The legs make it awkward to use a wheelchair too. But I leave it all to you to discover, Fred. I hope you will keep me up to date with your progress. Come and visit with one of your friends the next time they need prosthetic care.

            – I will. Thank you, Dr Gupta. I am very pleased with my new look and my new little legs.

Fred dropped his truncated crutches and allowed himself to fall back onto his hands. He lay on the floor, undid the velcro straps holding the halves of his shell together and reached across to grab his stubbies from under the couch. He twisted himself around and pushed himself to his feet. Gupta picked up the shell and crutches and took them to his workbench, where he taped them into a solid mass and wrapped brown paper around them. It weighed about four kilos. Fred would be able to carry it well enough for the short distances he had to cover. When Gupta brought the package over, Fred was on his feet, dressed in shorts and a hoodie.

            – You are ready to leave. I hope you will derive use and pleasure from your new prosthetic. Goodbye. Contact me if you have any problems with the equipment.

            – Thank you, Dr Gupta. Goodbye.

Fred left the lab and called for a taxi from the lobby. The journey home, back to school, took half an hour along minor roads through some of the country’s most attractive wooded areas.

 

Fred stumped into Fifteen, which he had to himself. Henry and Duncan had not been in the common room when he looked in. They were probably in Welwyn. Fred decided to wear his stubbies until after lunch but he undid the package, removed the tape from the components and placed the socket halves onto his bed. He looked at the time and went to Twenty-seven to see if Craig or Cal were in. They were. Both lay on their beds, ‘dressed in waistcoats’, as they called it, wearing solely their black carbon sockets and nothing else. Cal was reading and Craig was listening to music, poking at his phone trying to find a better song. Fred stood between them, saying nothing but with an enigmatic smile. He looked at them both. Craig pushed himself up and slid off the bed and Fred clasped his hands around his friend’s shell. They kissed hello and Craig gestured ‘Drink?’

            – Yes please.

            – You don’t need to whisper, you two. If you’re having a drink, pour me one too.

Cal slid down from his bed and hand walked into the bathroom cum bar where Craig was sloshing generous slugs of vodka into shot glasses.

            – So what’s new, Fred?

            – I just got my torso socket. I’ll put it on after lunch. It has legs on it.

            – What!

            – Yeah, it has stubbies under the socket. I can use crutches to walk instead of walking on my hands.

            – Did you hear that, Cal?

            – Yeah, but that means he’ll have to crutch everywhere instead of sitting in a nice comfortable wheelchair like we do.

            – True enough. But it’s a good addition to my collection. I have these stubbies and my long legs and now the torso socket.

            – Collect the whole series, win valuable prizes! What else are you thinking of?

            – Have you ever seen that American guy who has one central peg leg hanging off his torso socket? He does the New York marathon. Takes him ages but he gets it done. I’m thinking of having a central peg added to the bottom of my socket.

            – Fuck that. Sounds too precarious to me.

            – But think of how long your strides would be. You’d be able to keep up with anyone walking with flesh legs.

            – True. I haven’t thought abut anything like that. I’ve always been satisfied to roll alongside my mates in a chair.

            – Well, after lunch, you can come back to Fifteen and take a look at it. I don’t know if it would fit either of you but you’re welcome to try it out.

            – We’ll do that. Shall we go downstairs now? They’ll be open in five minutes and I’m starving.

Cal pulled himself up into his wheelchair and rolled out into the room so Craig could access his own chair. They left their room and the three of them descended in the lift with a couple of bilateral arm IT nerds who nodded a greeting but stayed silent.

            – You didn’t have a party last night, did you?

            – No. We just wanted a quiet start to the weekend. We might have a drink tonight, though. Why don’t you drop in and show off your new socket? Shall we invite Jack? He might be interested in a new way of walking.

            – Good idea. Alright, let’s do that. I hope you’re not getting tired of performing the Act. It would be a shame if you didn’t show us what two disarts can do. You know you’re the best inspiration for new amputees in the whole school, don’t you?

            – Aw shucks! If you put it that way, maybe we should make it a permanent fixture. Start charging and issuing tickets.

            – Entrance fee, one bottle of booze.

            – No change, then. OK.

 

The three of them sat together and ate a light lunch of mixed salad, cottage pie and ice cream. Henry and Duncan arrived just as they were finishing. They had been to the library in Welwyn and stocked up with a couple of bottles on the way back. Duncan was wearing his kilt as he often did at weekends.

            – We’re having a drink tonight. Drop in if you haven’t got anything else to do. There won’t be anyone else, except maybe for Jack.

            – Thanks! See you later.

 

They all took advantage of their weekends to have a short nap after lunch. Cal and Craig slept in the same bed, completely naked. Their torso sockets were scattered across the floor. It was good to feel fresh air on their bodies after several hours of confinement. The proximity of another warm body caused both men to nurse erections, which nestled harmoniously together.

 

Fred rocked up at half past six. The hosts were still buck naked, sitting up on Craig’s bed and watching videos on their phones. They watched Fred’s entrance with open mouths, not only because they had never seen Fred in a torso socket before but because he had legs. Short black cylindrical legs, rigid and unnatural and extremely desirable.

            – Fuck me, you look fantastic! And look at your fucking codpiece!

            – I know. I fill it.

            – The fuck you do.

            – Honestly – my dick is scraping the front of it as we speak.

Cal looked at Craig, the same idea going through their heads. The next half hour was spent discussing the possibilities presented to the torso men by the addition of various extensions beneath their sockets. Fred called up the American single peglegger’s marathon video and a couple of shorter clips of men at the annual Hanger meeting in Colorado where everyone was legless, most on stubbies and a few wearing torso sockets. They climbed to the top of a bluff and high-fived each other. Duncan and Henry arrived with a bottle of vodka. Duncan had changed and was wearing his shortest stubbies and a hoodie, but nothing else. He was decent until he sat.

            – Duncan! Just the man we need. Put us into our sockets, will you? Fred’s indisposed at the moment.

Fred had positioned himself near the end of the beds, partially blocking access to the bathroom. He was standing in his socket, motionless and immovable under his own power until someone gave him his crutches. The torsos carefully lowered themselves into their sockets’ rear halves and Duncan affixed their front sections and tightened them. The torsos were mobile again. Fred looked down at them from his superior height, ten centimetres above them.

            – I want a metre long peg leg and then we’ll see who gloats about their height.

Fred laughed and the two men wrestled in a standing position. Craig lifted his socket closer and they hugged. The rest of the evening was convivial, no-one was too drunk, and everyone revelled in their own extreme disabilities, relying on each other for the meagre assistance they needed. Henry felt himself to be almost able-bodied. The only thing he needed help with that evening was unscrewing the cap of a fresh bottle of vodka.

 

F I V E   Y E A R S   O N

 

Fred and Craig were married three months after graduating. They started their own engineering company, specialising in heat-pump conversions. Their extraordinary proximity to the ground and the extreme novelty of being legless engineers in hi-vis and hardhats helped to spread the word about their company and their business was successful and growing steadily. They had applied for an apartment in one of the freshly completed towers in Hatfield and moved in with help from a few amputee friends. Their apartment had a Japanese feel, everything including their bed being at floor level. Craig always needed his socket but Fred was free to stump around in shorts if he chose to. The kitchen had been refitted before their move, making everything easily accessible.

 

Cal and Duncan lived together sixteen floors above them in the same block. Cal was looking for employment as a biologist but Duncan had started work for the local council’s transport authority where he synchronised timetables and planned routes for the new housing estates. He was also responsible for ensuring that vehicles were accessible and of adequate size to meet passenger demand. They had no plans to marry but were dedicated to each other.

 

Henry was still single. He lived alone in a neighbouring block and had arranged his home and his life to meet the abilities of an armless man. He worked in a printing house, responsible for the preparation of image files from advertising agencies for printing on billboards or for reproduction in illuminated advertising or in social media. He was an affable colleague and popular as well as knowledgeable and enthusiastic. Henry had an admirer at work, a young man who wore a built-up boot and a steel leg brace. The twelve-inch high black leather boot was a shocking sight which was usually hidden under a pair of fashionable bell-bottom trousers but there was no doubting that the handsomely moustached young man was crippled. Henry spent more and more time with him and eventually invited him to share his flat. At last he had a pair of hands to help him.

 

Once a month, Fred and Craig invited their former and new friends to their studio apartment for a session of debauchery. Various Acts were performed, stumps fondled, prosthetics admired. Ten years after becoming much more seriously disabled than he had ever envisaged, Henry felt he had the best of all worlds – a beautiful new home, a handsome new boyfriend, trustworthy amputee friends and prosthetic carbon fibre and steel arms.

 

TOP & TAIL