FRUSTRATION

 

FRUSTRATION

 

A story of ultimate victory by strzeka (02/23)

 

At last there was time to relax. Andy kicked off his trousers and pulled his sweatshirt over his head. He dressed in his kimono and settled in front of a wide tv screen. He made certain of good access to his crotch and that his penis was comfortable. It had healed completely after removing the glans, leaving him with a long blunt shaft. He wanted to reach nullo within five years but wanted to experience several lengths in between. Now his dick was twenty-seven centimetres, down from thirty-two. He was in two minds about the nullo. He might leave a couple of centimetres of shaft and enough skin on the final amputation to be able to call it a foreskin. But that was all for the future. Right now he was impatient to see his new compilation of legless men doing their best to walk with various prosthetic devices, none of which deserved to be called legs. He had collected the raw material patiently and edited it to feature only the horniest sequences. Virile young men learning to walk on the most minimal stumps or on tiny steel legs fitted to a bucket. Andy knew bucket was a derogatory name for the device which enabled completely legless men to sit and sometimes walk on short crutches. He liked the word bucket. He would always use it. He programmed his seventeen minute long video production, set it to automatic repeat and settled deeper into his chair, his left hand cradling his mutilated shaft. The absence of his glans intensified sensation along the shaft. His dick was still far too long. Perhaps the next version would be covered by his fist.

 

His introduction appeared along with the video’s title. First a man’s face appeared, middle-aged and bearded. He was speaking but the dialogue was covered by music. The camera zoomed slowly out, revealing that the man was sitting in a wheelchair, legless but wearing black cylindrical stubbies. He gripped the armrests of the wheelchair and lowered himself to the floor. He pushed his wheelchair back a metre or so and demonstrated to the cameraman how he walked on his stubbies. They described arcs as he walked. He kicked his stumps out to the side first and swung them around in front of him. The second user appeared. He wore stubbies with hemispherical feet. He used a similar method of walking. The feet were metallic and made a hollow sound against the concrete path the man walked along. The video was a demo of a new design. The man sat and rose easily, using momentum to start walking. The third man had uneven stumps. His right leg was disarticulated at the knee and the stubby leg terminated in a square rubber foot. His left stump was much shorter. There was a long steel pylon between the socket and the rubber foot. Even as disabled as he was, the man still succeeded in maintaining a limp. He lurched from side to side, favouring his short stump. Of all the men featured in this video, he appeared to be the most severely crippled and the man who excited Andy the most. He rewound to the beginning of the sequence and fondled his penis. He could feel his non-existent glans pulsing with excitement. The healed tip of his member was sensitive too. He brushed his fingertips across it, never taking his eyes off the short mismatched artificial legs. He imagined himself needing such equipment to walk and rubbed his shaft more firmly. Perhaps when his legs were mere nubs, his penis too would echo their shape and be a mound into which his catheter could fit. He rubbed more vigorously.

 

The fourth figure heaved into view. He leaned on crutches, actually peg arms. The man had no hands. His crutches were fitted with sockets which extended to the floor and into which he inserted his arm stumps. He was totally legless. His body stump was enveloped by a white acrylic socket to which was attached the thigh section of a prosthetic leg designed for a hip disarticulation. It extended to where the man’s knees had once been, where it was attached to a crossbar bearing two artificial shins and plastic feet. He walked on two artificial feet but only one artificial thigh. It was too much for Andy. He ejaculated explosively. The cum splattered across the wooden floor. Andy caught his breath and paused the video. He waited for a minute or so and rewound the video to watch the handless torso crutching slowly along a corridor. The scene faded into a view of two men in their mid-thirties chatting to each other as they hauled themselves along a beach. They were also both completely legless. One wore a rigid black carbon socket under a T-shirt, the other had a custom-made leather socket which hinted at the most minimal femoral stumps possible. They moved together, using their gloved hands as crutches. They passed the cameraman and the shot ended as they were lost from view. Fade to black and Andy’s logo and the year of production. Andy wiped cum from his mutilated shaft and used the towel to clear wads of spunk from the floor.

 

It was a fairly successful edit. He intended producing a definitive collection of severely disabled men going about their daily lives when possible. He was not interested in images of limbless figures in wheelchairs or reclining on beds. He wanted to see torso sockets in motion, men wearing the most extreme prosthetic devices to compensate for their spectacular limblessness. When he had a credible number of video productions, he would offer them for sale. Five of them with slightly different subject matter, each about twenty minutes long, would be a good start. He already had enough material for another couple of videos. He wanted to concentrate on stubbies in the next one, too. He had several examples of men with shockingly short stumps walking on minimal stubbies, waving their arms to maintain balance as they attempted to relearn how to walk. He should make a start, maybe at the weekend. He would review his material and arrange it into some kind of logical order. He looked down at his penis. He was dissatisfied with its length. It was too long to stay rigid for long. If it were shorter, he might be able to grip the entire shaft with a fist and manipulate the severed flat tip with a thumb. He decided then and there to contact his tattooist friend who had sliced his glans off a few months back. He would surely not object to slicing his cock in half next time.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Time got away from him. He had intended to phone his mate about another lop-and-chop but he was too involved in editing work. Far too often he reframed various shots in order to emphasise stumps but the result was voyeuristic. It was better to show the amputees in their entirety when possible and only later concentrate on their stubbies. Andy invested several hundred in artificial intelligence software which allowed him to zoom in tenfold and maintain a sharp image. It was brilliant. He was producing the kinds of images which would be otherwise impossible to capture. No-one could get as close to a man walking, tottering, on a pair of ten centimetre long stubbies to capture it on video but Andy’s new software let him appear to do just that. He ran the previews over and over, infatuated with the movement and their implication. He was not only full of admiration for the men whose disability he fetishised, he was also intensely jealous and subconsciously decided to have his over-long legs reduced to his ideal, just as he wanted his thick over-long dick tamed to a centimetre or two. He programmed a cross fade between video and audio, checked it and stopped for the evening. He picked up his phone and called his tattooist friend.

            – Hi! I’m not disturbing, am I? Great. Listen, I have another ask. I want my dick done again. No, nothing like that. I want it shortened. Yeah, well this time I want it cut in half. I want a normal size dick, mate. I can’t live with this python in my pants. I don’t know – I was thinking of this weekend if you could manage it. Oh, great! Alright, I’ll see you at six. Thanks, mate. Cheers.

 

The tattooist had agreed to see Andy after hours. He shut his shop and doused the lighting. They went to the back room and Andy dropped his pants. He indicated where he wanted his incision made and watched as his mate injected a local anaesthetic into his penis. They waited a few minutes and then the offending member was deftly reduced by half its length. The dick was now three times as long as it was wide. The flat top would heal in a couple of weeks—mucus membranes healed fastest of all. The tattooist inserted a silicon catheter deep into Andy’s body and bandaged the bleeding penis. It would shortly stop bleeding on its own accord, as the body’s automatic systems reorganised themselves to avoid blood loss. A scab would form which would be the most uncomfortable aspect of the whole business. After half an hour of observation, the tattooist pronounced himself satisfied that Andy was not going to bleed to death and they went to a local bar for drinks. Andy’s silicon catheter handled his frequent urination perfectly.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Andy completed work on his second video. He stretched it to over twenty-two minutes long with some judicious but justified half-speed enlargements. There were two amputees who explained their situation before applying belt and elastic straps, donning their substitute legs and demonstrating their prowess at controlling their carbon and steel prostheses. One young man demonstrated a torso socket to which short stumps had been added. They gave the impression that the boy might still have some kind of vestigial leg stumps. He was able to manoeuvre himself around his room well enough using his hands and was able to stand upright on his prosthetic stumps. He was so nonchalant about his devastating disability that Andy decided that he was the one, out of all the amputees he had seen, who would be his idol and ideal when he eventually had his own legs off. It would be the pinnacle of excellence to walk with a torso socket bearing two artificial stumps, his tiny stump of a penis straining all its phantom length to confirm its approval of Andy’s limblessness.

 

There was only one problem. He had no idea how he could remove his legs safely and guarantee both his survival and a desirable outcome. It was a dilemma which continually preyed on his mind. His third video diverted his compulsion. It was a collection of amputees, a series of half men, whose legs had been completely extracted from their hips leaving nothing. The flesh was sewn closed. The bodies ended, in most cases, in a rounded torso stump with a set of male genitalia protruding. Andy was determined that his own body stump would have no such protrusions. Somewhere along the line, he would have to have his balls off. It had been two months since he last saw his friend, although he had been in frequent contact by text message. Maybe it was time for a new revision. He was happy enough with his dick but perhaps it would be an auspicious occasion to reduce it to its final length. His friend could emasculate him at the same time.

 

– – – – – – -

 

            – Are you sure? You’ll never be able to wank again. You won’t even feel like you want to have a wank.

            – I know. I’m decided in my mind that it’s what I need. Leave a stump of my dick. I don’t care how short you make it as long as it looks more like a stump than a short penis. Do you understand?

            – I understand. And the entire scrotum off. Is that right?

            – Yeah. What I want to see is about a centimetre or two of dick stump with no balls.

            – Alright. I’ve gotcha. Swallow these.

Andy received the usual anaesthetics into his penis and around his ball sac. He was going to have a bad ache for a week or so. The body always protested at every insult to its reproduction system. The tattooist’s scalpel worked its magic and Andy was left with a fifteen millimetre penis over which a hood of skin was sewn into place. It might form a cover for the flat tip of the dick remnant, a kind of foreskin. Once again, Andy wore a catheter reaching deep into his bladder. His friend showed him a selection of steel and vanadium jewellery which a man with a nullo could wear in order to control his urine flow and improve the appearance of his amputation. Having no scrotum to hold the devices in place, Andy gratefully refused.

            – Alright, mate. I getcha. I reckon you’re more or less done now, ain’tcha? Not much more cock to lop off, if you ask me.

            – Mate, I’m only just getting started. I want my legs off next. Only trouble is, I don’t know anyone who does amputations on the sly. I mean, you do fingers and toes as well as dicks but I can hardly rock up and ask you to chop an arm off, can I?

            – No, I don’t do the big stuff. Is that what you want next? To have your arm off?

            – No. That was only an example. What I really want, more than anything, is to have both legs off right up to my arse so I need to sit in a special plastic socket to hold me upright.

            – Well, fuck me. I never knew you was into that kind of stuff. So you want your legs off, do you?

            – Yeah.

            – Well, look. Leave it to me. I might know someone who might do it for you. He’s a bit touch‑and‑go sometimes, you know, sometimes he’s all happy and willing to do the odd amputation or two and sometimes he doesn’t want to know.

            – Who is he? Do you know him?

            – I’ve never met him but I’ve sent a customer to him before. Came back with a nice looking arm stump and started wearing a big silver pirate hook.

            – I’m not interested in hooks so much as having my legs off. No legs, no dick, no balls, just a rounded body stump.

            – Fuck me. Look, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll get in touch with my man and ask him about your legs. You want disarticulations, is that right?

            – Yeah, exactly. I didn’t know if you’d know the word.

            – Oh, I know it alright. Leave it to me and I’ll let you know. Give it a coupla weeks.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Andy was trying to persuade his stump to erect. He had been able to ejaculate some kind of fluid after having his balls off and his penis rendered almost flush with his groin. His fourth production concentrated on quadruple amputees using peg arms or crutches to keep balance as they tried walking on short peg legs or stubbies. Two short pegs looked really horny. Andy wanted to jerk himself off but he no longer had anything to grasp nor did his libido rise to what he had felt before when he watched his favourite amputees. A small group of legless men swung their stubbies from side to side in an effort to climb a slope. Andy was frantic with the desire to cum. Every nerve in the stump of his penis urged release. But he had nothing left. He could rub his stump but it led to nothing. His phone rang.

            – Hello?

            – Good evening. I understand from my colleague that you have made enquiries about a matter outside his expertise?

Andy struggled to make sense of the question. Which friend? Oh! The tattooist!

            – Yes, that’s right. I mentioned amputation. Is that what you are referring to?

            – It is indeed. I wish to inform you that the particular kind of amputation you mentioned, disarticulation from the hip, is especially demanding. Apart from the cost, the procedure requires a certain methodology. which you may or may not agree with.

            – I see. It sounds like we ought to meet to discuss the situation.

            – I was about to suggest that. Where are you now?

            – Harrow, west London.

            – I suggest you pay a visit to my facility to inspect it and ensure that it meets your expectations. I live in Epsom, Surrey, so it is not a formidable journey. Can you visit this weekend? I suggest Saturday afternoon, four-ish, if that suits you.

            – That sounds OK. Yes, I’ll make the run down and we can discuss matters face to face.

            – Very good.

They exchanged addresses and finalised a timetable. Andy would arrive in time for tea on Saturday afternoon. 

 

Andy returned to editing his production. He had a few short videos of bilateral disarts heaving themselves into and out of wheelchairs. He wanted to make a compilation of them to end the video with. He sorted the men’s direction of movement, left to right or the other way, and arrived at a logical sequence. The material was from many sources of varying quality so Andy overlaid a colour correcting filter over it. Now it looked like it was all shot on the same camera. The AI software sharpened the video. It looked especially arresting. The variety of buckets was fascinating. Some featured facsimiles of forward facing stumps to improve balance. Some reached above the hips, some extended as far as the armpits. The men rocked along swinging their buckets and flipped themselves up into their chairs. Andy watched the sequence over and over, yearning to be able to do the same thing, to be legless, living life with a featureless rounded torso stump. He copied the final ninety seconds of his production onto a memory stick to show his host on Saturday. Perhaps the man would understand better what Andy wanted for himself.

 

Andy planned his journey, avoiding major roads where possible. He charged his bike’s battery overnight and packed the charger in a rucksack. If he left at one, he should reach Epsom in good time.

 

Max Feltham was waiting on Andy in his gardens. He was seated by a fountain and could not fail to miss Andy’s arrival. In order to spike his guest’s interest, he had decided to wear his stubbies this afternoon, after spending the morning on hi-tech prostheses. His fifteen centimetre stumps were well capable of operating his knee-length stubbies. He had several pairs of varying lengths but he had always favoured cylindrical carbon fibre designs, not least because he was able to manufacture them himself in his lab. He considered them to be the more masculine alternative, preferable to thigh sockets with attached steel pylons. Movement on his right caught his eye and he watched Andy arrive astride an electric fat bike. If the man went through with his amputations, he would have little use for it. Andy did not notice Max and slowed in front of the entrance. He wheeled his bike to one side, removed the battery and placed it in his rucksack. The crunch of gravel alerted him to Max’s approach. He was surprised and fascinated to see the white haired, white bearded figure in a tweed jacket and green suede shorts stumping towards him on stubbies. He had not expected to meet an amputee. Max held out a gloved hand and welcomed Andy to his home.

            – Let’s go inside. We have much to talk about. I shall call for tea. Did you have an easy trip?

            – It was fine, thanks. Very pleasant to come this far south and see some greenery.

 

Max showed Andy into a room adjacent to the entry hall. Tea things were set out on a round table. Max rang a small brass bell and shortly his manservant trundled a trolley into the room, laden with a freshly brewed pot of tea and several enticing slices of gâteau. The man wore shorts, exposing his bilateral below knee prostheses. Two steel pylons terminating in short metallic feet. He said nothing but stood at attention for a few moments. Max checked that everything was present and dismissed him.

 

            – Well, as you may have noticed, we are quite accustomed to amputation and prosthetics here. My man has been with me for five years and a bilateral amputee for three. I myself had to travel to Brazil to meet the surgeon who amputated my legs. It was a long and tedious passage by sea but well worth the inconvenience. That was over forty years ago. I have worn artificial legs every day since then. Oh, don’t worry! These stubbies are only for your entertainment. I understand you are especially interested in stubbies.

            – Very true. Did our acquaintance mention it?

            – He did. I quizzed him on what sort of man you are. One has to be careful. You understand.

            – Yes, of course.

            – I usually wear long prostheses. Without wishing to brag, I doubt that any casual onlooker would notice that I am a double amputee. My greatest desire, you see, was to rid my flesh legs in favour of artificial limbs. They held the greatest fascination for me, indeed, they still do. That is why I am intrigued by your desire to acquire such extreme amputations that you will be quite unable to use artificial limbs. I am interested in hearing your justification. Do help yourself, by the way.

Andy helped himself. Max waited in silence for him to speak. Andy had rehearsed his ideas in his mind. Knowing now that voluntary amputation was a far more familiar topic than he had expected, he explained his obsession with leglessness over all other levels of amputation. He mentioned that he had always wished to use artificial legs for as long as he could remember. Only recently had he turned to more extreme modifications and considered the desirability of one disarticulation and one thigh stump to which he could fit a stubbie or a prosthesis or a peg. But he had seen enough completely legless men in torso buckets to know that he wanted to be rid of his legs completely, not leaving a vestige of stump.

            – You realise that you will always have difficulty negotiating the world in a wheelchair. Only on rare occasions will you be able to leave your chair and ambulate in the bucket with your hands.

            – Of course. I have brought a short video to demonstrate exactly the kind of thing I am most interested in.

            – Ah!  Good. We’ll look at it a little later. When were you expecting to have these amputations?

            – I would say within eighteen months, two years.

            – What would you say if I told you that you could have the first tomorrow morning?

            – Really? I would leave here legless?

            – Not in quite the way you envisage, I fear. This is one of the reasons why I invited you here. I will amputate your legs in the way you wish, have no fear. But I insist that there is a twelve month gap between the first and the second amputation. I insist on this for all my visitors who wish to become bilateral amputees. One limb at a time. When the stump has healed completely and the amputee understands the implications of limblessness, it is time for the second. Few amputees fail to return but there are those who find such satisfaction from one missing limb that they do not return. I believe it is better to take such matters slowly rather than to act in haste and repent at leisure.

            – So you could amputate, disarticulate, one of my legs tomorrow and then I would need to wait a year to lose the other.

            – That is correct. We have not yet discussed the cost. I will disarticulate both your legs for thirty thousand new sterling. The price includes manufacture of a basic artificial limb and, in your case, a body socket after the second disarticulation.

            – That’s a lot of money. Is it possible to pay in instalments?

            – It is. Your first amputation will cost seventeen thousand. The second thirteen. Are you able to afford seventeen thousand?

            – I believe so. How would I pay?

            – A bank transfer is perfectly sufficient.

            – Very good. I could pay after we have had tea.

            – So do I understand that your first amputation will be tomorrow?

            – Yes, if you have things ready.

            – Very well. Tomorrow you will become a monopod. I assume you have your affairs in order?

            – Oh! That sounds ominous!

            – I mean simply that you will be able to function as an amputee when you leave here.

            – Yes, of course. I am self-employed, so I can use my time as I wish. And if you lend me a pair of crutches, I might be able to return home on my bike.

            – I’m sure you know that that will not be possible. Your incision will be very sensitive for two or three weeks. You can leave your bike here and collect it later. There is no reason why you should not return to riding as a one-legged man. I shall ask my boy to take your bike to our garage. Is it locked?

            – No, I saw no need to lock it.

            – Very well. I shall now make some preparations for tomorrow. My boy will join you shortly to keep you company. You may ask him anything you wish. He is not shy and is a most enthusiastic amputee.

            – Thank you.

Max left the room, leaving Andy to consider the sudden change in his fortune. He had made the journey to discuss his options and the cost. Now he would be leaving with his left pelvis a smooth expanse of flesh devoid of any hint that a limb had once existed there. His transformation would already be halfway complete. There was a gentle tap at the door and Max’s houseboy entered.

            – Hello. Dr Max sent me to keep you company. I hope that’s OK.

            – Yes, of course. Sit down. I’m Andy, by the way.

            – My name is Simon but you can call me Boy. Dr Max calls me Boy when we are together.

            – Well, Simon, it’s good to meet you. You live here, do you?

            – Oh yes. Dr Max took me in five years ago. I was living on the street, you see. Dr Max felt sorry for me and offered me a meal and a bed for the night. We talked all night and by morning, Dr Max had decided that I ought to stay here with him to help him run the house. And of course, I was able to start my transformation. I have had artificial legs now for three years and I think I will be able to have my next amputation fairly soon.

            – Oh? What are you going to have done? An arm?

            – No, no. My hands are too useful. I’m going to have one of my legs disarticulated. I think the right one but I’m not sure. Then I’ll walk on crutches with my remaining artificial leg until the fourth amputation.

            – And what will that be?

            – We want me to walk on a long artificial leg and crutches, so my left thigh will be cut off halfway. So I’ll have only one short leg stump and I’ll be able to crutch around like that.

            – That’s quite an exciting prospect for you. And quite a coincidence too. My amputation will also be a disarticulation. But it will be the first of two. Dr Max will remove the other leg next year.

            – You want to be completely legless? It’s a beautiful thing to see. I love to see men handwalking on a body stump.

            – You’ll be able to handwalk too with your short stump.

            – Yes, I know, but Dr Max will probably want me in a wheelchair when I’m not on crutches.

            – I see. I’ll be in a wheelchair this time next year, for a time, at least. But I intend to become a dedicated handwalker. I want a bucket around my stump and move around that way.

            – Are you going to have a bucket with a flat base or one which follows the shape of your stump?

            – I hadn’t really thought about it. I always assumed the bucket would have a flat bottom.

            – But think how it would feel to have a tight socket which conforms to your body shape. It would make you even more disabled because you’d need to lean on your hands always to stay upright.

            – Yes, I would. You’re quite right. Perhaps I shall have one of each.

            – There was a man here last year who left walking with crutches. He had a body stump too, which Dr Max had made for him. He came to collect his bucket. It had one central peg leg on it, you know, like a steel pylon with a rubber tip. And he swung himself along on the steel peg leg. It looked so good. The man was really pleased, you could tell.

            – That must feel wonderful.

            – There was another man. He’d had his legs disarticulated too. He wanted a pair of legs, though, so Dr Max designed a socket his stump could rest in and it had two long legs, you know, quite normal looking. They were all part of the socket. They didn’t move or anything but the man could put a pair of shoes on the legs and walk with crutches. But I think that would be quite difficult to use. If you wanted to sit down, you would have to climb out of the socket.

            – Perhaps that’s what the man wanted to do. Maybe he had a young man to help hold his socket steady for him when he wanted to climb back in.

            – Yes, I expect so.

They were quiet for a while. Andy’s imagination raced at the thought of wearing a pair of rigid plastic legs. The more he thought about it, the more erotic it seemed. He could feel a growing insistent pressure in his stump, which was the closest he could come to an erection. It was a relief in many ways to be able to continue talking with Simon without having to disguise his enormous erect penis.

            – What do you do here, Simon?

            – Well, I take care of the house. I do some of the cleaning but we have a team which cleans the whole house once a month. And I do the laundry and make the meals.

            – Are you a good cook?

            – I think so. I was at chef’s school before I lost my student benefits and had to live on the street.

            – It must have been hard.

            – It was hard but there are lots of us and we band together to help each other. Not unlike the way I help Dr Max. I don’t know if I should ask this. It might not be suitable.

            – What’s that?

            – Well, when you have your body stump, have you thought that it might be useful to have an assistant? You know, someone like me who can help you with various things.

            – I’ve not thought about it, Simon. Do you think I would need help?

            – I’m sure you could manage, Mr Andy. But it would be good to have a helper for when things are difficult.

            – Do you have someone in mind, Simon? One of your friends, perhaps?

            – Oh no, nothing like that. But I’m sure we could find a very suitable helper if you needed one.

            – I see. Well, it’s a matter for next year. I don’t think I will need help before I become totally legless.

            – No, I suppose not.

But the idea of having a live-in assistant was seated in Andy’s mind. He had plenty of time to consider it. It was true that there must be dozens, hundreds, of young men who would be only too willing to sacrifice a little freedom for the chance to serve a severely disabled amputee.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Andy’s left leg was removed from the hip the following day. Max found it one of the easier amputations. A disarticulation required nothing more than a scalpel and steady hands. Max wore bilateral stubbies for stability as he performed the operation fifty centimetres off the floor. Simon acted as the anaesthetist, keeping a close eye on the nitrous oxide mix which kept Andy unconscious. Max was surprised and pleased to see that his latest patient was a nullo eunuch, already fitted with a catheter. It made one aspect of recovery easier. He understood how the tattooist knew the man. Simon lifted the leg off the table and carried it away. It would be incinerated but Simon placed it in a freezer temporarily.

 

Andy convalesced in an opulent guest room. Max tended to the wound several times and announced that he was satisfied that Andy could leave the following day. Andy fully agreed and a taxi to the station was ordered. He would have to brave the vagaries of Underground pedestrian tunnels on crutches but, he reasoned, it was what he had signed up for. Next year he would feel fortunate if he could manoeuvre on crutches. He imagined himself at half his present height, heaving himself into a tube train, unable to lift himself onto a seat in a rocking carriage, holding on to something to maintain balance among the litter and filth. His stump began to arouse itself, the first time since his leg had been removed. It was a sure sign he was on the way to recovery.

 

Back at home, he resumed his work. He was fortunate in being one of the few programmers who had been able to afford artificial intelligence applications early on and had generated a good deal of regular work updating existing websites and creating fresh new ones. Sitting one-legged at his terminal, he imagined himself without legs. It was the only way he could excite himself. He felt the familiar pressure of libido deep inside and the increasing effect on his stump. His disarticulation site had healed perfectly. It was rounded, soft thanks to gluteus muscle used as padding, and all the epidermal nerves were intact. It was an erogenous zone. When his remaining leg was gone, he hoped his entire lower body would excite his stump. He longed to grip his penis, or some vestige of it, but it was only a short stump. Andy gyrated his lower body against the seat of his chair and finally succeeded in producing an outburst of a clear, sticky fluid which dripped from his catheter. He had orgasmed.

 

Months passed. Andy became accustomed to functioning in daily life on one leg and crutches. He moved smoothly, appreciating the lack of weight on his amputated side. He frequently thought of adapting Simon’s plan to lose his remaining leg mid-thigh and to walk on a prosthesis. It had its attraction but Andy’s mind always returned to the ideal. One September lunchtime, he received a call from Simon who apologised profusely for disturbing him. He sounded upset.

            – Calm down, Simon. It’s quite OK to call. What’s the matter?

Andy immediately suspected that something had happened to Max to upset the boy.

            – Well, it’s about one of my friends. I only found out this week. He’s been told he has to leave the hostel because they can’t take care of him.

            – Why not? What’s the matter with him?

            – He was attacked on the street last month. There were two of them walking down Brick Lane and all of a sudden a gang jumped them and one of them swung at my friend with a machete. Andy, sir, they cut his hands off! And he was in hospital until they said he had to go but when he went back to the hostel they said he couldn’t stay there any more. And now he has nowhere to go so I’m trying to find out if there’s one of our legless men who needs an assistant. Like me. To live in and help.

            – Does your friend have prostheses already?

            – Well no. That’s the problem. How is he going to be able to afford a pair of hooks?

            – What was he doing before the attack? Did he have a job?

            – Yes sir. He was working on the building site in Threadneedle Street. You know, the new skyscraper.

            – The Needle. I know the one. So he was working there and earning some money and then he lost his hands and he’s being thrown out of the hostel. Is that right?

            – Yes sir. And I don’t know what will happen to him.

            – Where is he now?

            – At the hostel. He has to leave tomorrow morning.

            – Can you get in touch with him?

            – Yes, I think so, if his phone works.

            – Where is this hostel?

            – Gunnersbury.

Another inconvenient journey. Andy thought of the Underground map. The District ran through Acton.

            – Look, tell your friend to be at Acton Town tube station on the platform at four o’clock. Will you be there too?

            – I will if Dr Max lets me.

            – Alright. What does your friend look like?

A fatuous question. How many bilateral arm amputees would there be?

            – Tall and dark. He’s twenty-four and his dad is a Cypriot and his mum was Chinese. And he had a moustache and nice beard last time I saw him.

            – Alright Simon. Leave it to me. I’ll go and meet him and he can stay with me for a couple of days until we can sort something out. I can’t say better than that.

            – Oh thank you ever so much, sir. I’ll telephone him now and tell him. Shall I say he can bring his suitcase?

            – If he can carry it without hands, he can bring all he can. Don’t worry, Simon. We’ll help your friend. What’s his name, by the way?

            – Alec Alexandrou.

            – Alec. Alright. Tell him to look out for a one-legged man.

            – I will. Thank you ever so much, sir.

Andy stared at the sub-programme he had been working on. It would be easy enough to continue after an interruption. He crutched to his bedroom and changed from his untidy tracksuit trousers with their knotted trouser leg to his neatly sewn one-legged skinny jeans. The material emphasised the muscles in his remaining leg and clung to his empty pelvis. He threw on a yellow hoodie and crutched along the leafy street to the suburban Underground station. It felt good to be outside. It was fine to be able to crutch along at a good pace. He imagined how it might feel if his leg was a prosthesis and how it would be when both legs were gone and he could shuffle along on his hands. There would be no sudden excursions to Acton, that was sure.

 

Andy had not heard from Simon since they spoke. He had expected a message confirming that Alec was on his way. He hoped this was not a fool’s errand. As the train pulled into Acton Town station, Andy glimpsed a bearded figure seated next to an Ikea bag. Andy left the train and crutched back to the man. He wore an orange hoodie, jeans and scuffed trainers. He looked dejected and did not look up until Andy spoke to him.

            – Ah, hello. Are you Alec by any chance?

            – Yes. I’m Alec.

Andy could see his empty sleeves. It was enough proof of identification.

            – Simon told me you need a place to stay.

Alec nodded. He glanced at Andy and down at his lap. A more dejected man was difficult to imagine.

            – They kicked me out of the hostel because of these.

He lifted his stumps. The hoodie’s sleeves drooped over them.

            – Well, you can stay with me for a day or two. I live in Harrow. Do we need to get you a ticket?

            – It’s alright. I’ve got an Oyster.

            – Oh good. Is that alright? Shall we go on the next train?

Alec met Andy’s eyes again, seemingly surprised by his kindness. He gave a wan smile and nodded his head emphatically.

            – Thank you.

 

A Piccadilly train screeched to a halt. Alec stood and used both stumps to grab his bag’s handles. He swung the heavy bag forward and into the train. Andy followed and sat opposite him, holding his crutches. The train jolted into motion and conversation became impossible over the noise. Alec and Andy looked like any other everyday commuters. Andy read the adverts above the seats and studied the map for an insight into the next few hours. Alec warily studied the one‑legged man who was dressed much like himself but in cleaner clothes. He was older but not by much, really. He had a friendly face, kind eyes. Maybe it was going to be alright. They caught each other’s eyes a few times on their way north. Andy smiled briefly. Alec was a good‑looking man, mid‑twenties. Simon had explained his mixed ethnicity. Both were evident in the guy’s face, the slight Asian eye‑folds, the sleek black whiskers of a beard which was probably bushier than Alec would ordinarily have worn. It suited him. They were both about as tall as each other. Andy shouted across to Alec.

            – Next stop is ours.

Alec nodded again and smiled briefly. The wordless journey had already calmed his mind a little. They left the train and Andy strode ahead. Alec struggled a little with his heavy bag which swung erratically from his stumps. He hoped it was not a long walk. He watched the regular footfall of the one‑legged man and wondered how he had lost his leg. They approached a row of shops and bistros. Andy stopped suddenly and turned.

            – Here we are. This is where I live. Not too far to walk, was it? Let’s go inside. Leave the bag in the hall, OK?

            – OK.

 

Andy opened his front door and stood aside to let Alec heave his bag inside. Alec stepped in and looked to Andy for further instruction.

            – Let’s go in the kitchen and I’ll make some coffee. Have you had anything to eat today?

            – Well, no. Not really.

            – Look, give me an hour. I’ve got some shepherd’s pie in the freezer. We can have that.

            – Er, where’s the toilet?

            – Upstairs on the left. Ah, do you need some help?

Alec’s face was a confusion of embarrassment, shame and hope.

            – Yes, if you can. I’m sorry.

            – Don’t be sorry. It’s alright. I know what it means to lose a limb. Come on, I’ll show you.

Andy swung himself upstairs two steps at a time. Alec followed, impressed by the man’s agility. At the top of the stairs, Andy loosened Alec’s belt and flies and felt around for his penis. After a second or two, realisation dawned. A familiar circumstance. Alec was encumbered with a monster penis just as unwieldy and inconvenient as his own had been.

            – I’m going to have to pull your trousers and underwear down. Don’t be embarrassed. OK, stand by the bowl.

Andy leant against the door frame and held Alec’s over-long penis with his left hand. A powerful jet of urine spurted into the bowl. The guy must have been holding it in for hours.

            – Thanks. I’m done.

Andy tore off a piece of toilet paper and dabbed Alec’s urethra. He pulled the underpants and jeans back up and secured the belt. He pulled the zipper up.

            – All set. I might as well go while we’re up here.

Andy rested on his crutches and pulled out the five centimetres of silicon tubing which compensated for his thirty-four centimetre long former penis. Alec noticed by accident and his mouth fell open. The man was obviously missing more than just a leg. Poor bloke! It was the first time in days that Alec had felt compassion for another person. He felt an affinity with the one‑legged man. They descended the stairs with Alec leading, looking back to check on his benefactor’s safety.

            – Sit down and let’s have some coffee.

 

Andy washed his hands in the sink and tipped ground coffee into a cafetière. Shortly the smell of fresh coffee filled the small kitchen.

            – Tell me about yourself, Alec. Simon told me that your dad is Greek Cypriot and your mum is Chinese. Where are they now that you have to live in a hostel?

            – Dad left when I was ten. He said he had a job on an oil rig in the North Sea. He was away for weeks. We knew that. But that was the last we ever heard from him. And mum died of breast cancer when I was seventeen. After that, I’ve been in care centres or homes or whatever. I was working as a builder and I was doing OK, really. I had a wage coming in and I was getting on alright with my mates and all the time I was trying to save enough money so I could start to rent my own pad somewhere, you know, a bedsit somewhere. Then a couple of months ago we were out and got attacked and they sliced my hands off. I don’t know why. I wasn’t doing anything to them. And after that, I couldn’t work, so I couldn’t pay the rent at the hostel and they got fed up with me just being there so they said I had to leave. And then Simon called you and that’s it.

            – I’m sorry to hear about your mum, Alec. You wouldn’t be here if she was alive. Shall I tell you a bit about myself? Well, I’m a programmer and I work from home. I have my own little company, you see. So I’m always home.

            – I was wondering, how did you lose your leg?

            – That’s something I don’t want to get into just yet. I don’t like to talk about it. Sorry if that sounds rude.

            – You don’t have a penis either. I noticed.

 

Andy was taken aback. He had not intended to display his nullo status but since Alec had already noticed, he may as well explain. He drew a deep breath.

            – Alec, it may be difficult to understand, but I am halfway to becoming how I want to be. So far I have had my penis cut back to a stump and my balls removed and my leg has been removed from the hip so I don’t even have any stump on that side.

            – I’m sorry.

            – Don’t be. I mean I actually want to be this way. In fact, in a few month’s time, I’m going back to have my other leg off in exactly the same way. I’ll be completely legless.

            – Why would you want to do that?

            – I don’t like having legs. I want to be in a bucket and propel myself around with my hands and arms. Don’t ask why. It’s just a thing. It’s the way I want to be. Some people just want amputations to get the stumps they feel they should have. Some people, like me, don’t even want the stumps left. I’m guessing you’re really upset about losing your hands, though. I’m sorry for you. It’s not going to be easy for you.

 

Alec was astonished by Andy’s admission of being a voluntary amputee. He was silent for a minute, fidgeting with his stumps. Should he say anything? He looked at Andy, patiently waiting for Alec to express the turmoil playing across his face.

            – It was all set up. My mate Ali cut my hands off. We made it look like an attack. It was all done on purpose. He had to practise for weeks to get it right. You see, I wanted my hands off too. I just didn’t think it through properly. I didn’t have any idea of how I was going to get hooks or anything. So after I got out of hospital, I went back to the hostel but I had no idea what I was going to do. I guess it was a really stupid thing to do but I was so desperate to get artificial arms after wanting them for ten years. I was desperate. You won’t tell anyone, will you? I don’t want to get Ali into trouble when it was my idea all the time.

 

It was Andy’s turn to be surprised. He looked at Alec to read his expression. Alec’s face was like an open book. Every nuance of emotion was obvious in his eyes and around his handsome lips. He would be at a disadvantage if he ever had to lie. Andy admired his honesty.

            – Two of us. What are the chances, eh? Do you want some more coffee?

            – Yes please.

They finished the pot and Andy put his frozen food into the microwave oven to defrost. As both men thought about what they had uncovered, the atmosphere changed from formal politeness to conspiratorial camaraderie. It was like suddenly being admitted to an exclusive society as elite members.

            – You managed very well just now with your stumps. I imagine you’re pretty pleased with the way they’ve turned out.

            – Yeah, I am. I was prepared for any length, really, as long as my stumps were long enough to use a pair of hooks with. That’s what I’m most keen on, you see? The stumps are only necessary so I can use hooks. They’ve been my obsession ever since I knew they existed. They look so perfect. They make a man look so special. I was hooked on the idea of having my own.

            – Hooked on the idea—very good. Well, you’re halfway. You have the stumps. All you need now are some hooks. Where are we going to get you some hooks from? Any ideas?

            – I don’t know. I can’t really afford anything. I tried to see if there was anything on eBay but it’s really difficult trying to use the web on my phone.

            – Yeah, there might be a used pair on eBay. Or even one would be enough in an emergency. Let’s have a look. Let’s go into the lounge and I can stream it on my tv.

They sat down close to each other. Andy became aware that Alec might benefit from a shower and a change of clothes. Luckily, they were both about the same height. Alec would be able to wear Andy’s clothes. Andy quickly set up his screen to display what was on his phone. Alec sat back, gently gyrating the tips of his stumps together. Andy logged into eBay and searched for ‘prosthetic artificial arm hook’. A few tatty used sockets appeared, most of them for above‑elbow amputees.

            – What do you say? I don’t think they look like the sort of thing you’d want to wear. Worn out junk. I’ve got an idea, though.

Andy checked the time and considered that Max or Simon might be available. He called Simon.

            – Hello, it’s Andy. I have your friend here with me.

            – Oh great! I’m ever so grateful, Mr Andy.

            – Don’t mention it. Listen, we have a little problem of needing an artificial arm or two. I was wondering if Max could offer any suggestions on how to get hold of such items quickly. Is he around at the moment?

            – He’s right here. Would you like to speak to him? I’ll hand him the phone.

            – Hello? Andy, is it? What can I do for you?

            – Max, I am in urgent need of at least one below elbow artificial arm with hook. I don’t know if you’ve heard but I’ve agreed to put one of Simon’s friends up for a couple of nights.

            – Oh! Do you mean the lad whose hands were hacked off? He’s with you now, is he?

            – Yes. He’s doing very well already, using his stumps for everything he can but we’d like to find a pair of artificial arms with hooks as soon as possible and I was wondering if you have any advice.

            – Let me think. Are the stumps stable? I mean, do they look healed and ready to wear a prosthesis?   

            – I’m not expert but they look healed and Alec has been using them together like pincers. I think he could tolerate wearing a prosthesis.

            – Alright. I can’t promise anything but I may have something which might help. I’ll have to check. Leave it with me and I’ll call you back within the hour.

            – OK. Thanks very much, Max.

The call ended.

            – He’s going to call back. Shall we see if that food is ready?

Andy heated it in a frying pan. There was a huge portion on two plates. He had intended it to last him for three days. No matter.

            – Do you want me to feed you, Alec? It’s alright. I don’t mind.

            – I can use a spoon, if you have one.

            – Of course I have one.

            – I’m sorry. I’m not used to the idea of people automatically having everything. In the hostel, if you had a knife and fork, you’d have to put them under your sleeping bag otherwise someone would steal them in the night.

            – That’s awful. It must be really difficult living in a place like that.

            – It isn’t easy.

Alec succeeded in gripping the handle of the spoon between his stumps. Lifting the food to his mouth was awkward. Andy watched him, ravenously fighting his appetite and crippling disability. Alec noticed Andy watching him eat and grinned in pleasure. Andy felt his heart beat a skip. He was a beautiful man, his stumps were phallic perfection, he was modest and grateful for any and every small favour. Andy was falling in love with the idea of having Alec near him. Alec devoured his meal before Andy was even halfway through and dropped his spoon, making more noise than intended.

            – Sorry! It slipped.

            – No problem. I hope you enjoyed it.

            – It was the best meal I’ve had this year. Thank you very much. It also tasted very nice.

            – I put mint and Worcester sauce in with the mince. It is nice, though, I agree.

            – Andy, I have something else to ask. Do you think I could have a shower? And I don’t really have any clean clothes, so I was wondering if I could borrow a T-shirt and some pants.

            – Did you only bring dirty laundry in the Ikea bag?        

Alec looked ashamed.

            – Look, don’t worry about it. We’ll run the washing machine and it’ll all be dry by tomorrow. We ought to wait for the doctor to call back but as soon as he does, you can have a shower. And I’ll have one too. We can shower together. Is that alright?

Alec smiled.

            – Thank you, Andy. Yes.

            – Good. Let’s get your things washed.

 

Max called back as the first cycle began.

            – I have an adjustable nylon socket which was part of a survey run by a university team some years ago. It will fit on either arm, regardless of how long the stump is. And it’s already fitted with a standard hook which cannot be replaced. All it needs is a cable and harness and it will be ready for fitting. When can you get here to try it? I’m free tomorrow until three and the day after until midday.

            – That’s wonderful news, Max. Thank you so much. Shall we say tomorrow morning, between ten and eleven? We’ll have to come by train.

            – Yes, of course. That will be fine. Tell the boy to wear a T‑shirt.

            – I will. Until tomorrow. That was Dr Max. He has an experimental socket made of nylon and he can let you have it tomorrow. How does that sound?

            – That would be fantastic.

            – Good. Shall we have that shower now?

 

Alec supported Andy with his stumps as Andy removed his hoody and loosened his trousers and underwear. He sat on the toilet seat and lifted his feet so Andy could pull his socks off. More dirty laundry. Andy shucked his own clothes and stepped into the shower. The taps were impossible for Alec to use.

            – Come on in. It’s warm. Be very careful not to slip, Alec. If you fall, you’ll hurt your stumps very badly.

They stood facing each other, enjoying the warm water. Andy’s catheter poked Alec’s penis which hung semi-flaccid almost to his knees. It was much darker than Alec’s skin elsewhere on his body. Its shaft nestled in a generous bush of pubic hair which spread into his body hair. Alec was hirsute. He wore a pelt. No wonder his beard was so magnificent. Andy balanced on his leg and took Alec’s stumps into his hands. They too would shortly recover their natural coverage and the scars of amputation would become invisible.

            – These are going to be very handsome stumps when they reach their final size. They’re still a little swollen, I think. I hope you like them, Alec. You have suffered too much already. The least you can hope for is that you’ll have handsome stumps. OK, is it OK if I wash you from top to toe? Hold on to me so I don’t topple over.

Andy used a large natural sponge and some scented liquid soap to lather his companion front and back. Alec held him securely as he repeated the motions on himself. They smelled of sandlewood and bergamot. Andy washed their hair and ran water through Alec’s beard without soap. Finally, Andy gently and respectfully grasped Alec’s phenomenal penis and persuaded it up to the height of their belly buttons. He pulled back the foreskin completely and allowed warm water to wash away any trace of smegma before soaping his hands and carefully tracing around the broad glistening glans. Without attempting to be suggestive, Andy soaped the shaft along its impossible length and allowed it to fall back between Alec’s thighs.

            – Thank you for being careful. Some men think it is some kind of toy and treat it roughly.

            – Have you had sex with men before?

            – Yes. Not often. I know what they want. I try to avoid them. I am more than a big dick. I want someone to love.

Andy looked into Alec’s dark brown eyes from ten centimetres. He was not overly impressed by the unusual length of the penis, having only recently divested himself of something very similar. Alec noticed the matter-of-fact way Andy treated his deformity.

            – Thank you for helping me, Alec. I usually have to sit. It was nice you held on to me so I could stand up.

 

They dressed. Andy found an almost new pair of workout pants, white with the text YACHTING along one leg. Alec was able to grope it onto his legs using his stumps, and Andy threw a black T‑shirt over his head. Andy combed his hair and his beard, wondering at the natural beauty of it, its long straight glossy whiskers naturally forming a perfect frame for the rest of the man’s handsome face.

 

They returned to the lounge. Andy wanted to show Alec what kind of body he wanted and started the compilation which he had edited. Alec thought he was watching a tv production. Good-looking men without legs balanced themselves in plastic sockets and lurched into motion. It looked erotic. It was astounding to see how the drastically disabled men jostled and joked with each other, and how they willingly hurled themselves from wheelchairs to the ground in order to swing their torsos over rough ground. His penis began to engorge and make itself visible inside his tracksuit trousers.

            – Andy, I’m sorry. It’s giving me an erection. I have to take my trousers down.

Andy had never heard anything like it before but understood the problem.

            – Go right ahead. It’s OK.

Alec reached down as far as he could to coax his penis up onto his chest. His stumps and his penis were too much for Andy, who also began to feel the need to wank. He had not ejaculated his dribble in weeks. His stump felt the familiar pressure and expanded a little. Alec placed his penis on his belly where it continued to erect. Within a minute it stood proud, towering to an improbable height. Alec held the enormous cock with his stumps, his balls holding the elastic hem of his trousers down. The glans stood tall. Alec looked at Andy, saying nothing. Andy looked at the heavy penis, remembering how intensely embarrassing it was to suffer an inconvenient erection and how painful it was to not be able to allow it free reign.

            – It’s wonderful.

Alec leant against Andy and wept with gratitude.

 

They watched the second of Andy’s productions, where most of the men featured wore stubbies. Andy explained how he wanted to lose the ability to use his legs completely and therefore it was necessary to disarticulate both legs. Then he could sit in a plastic socket and move around on his hands. The fact that he had no genitals also improved his mobility.

            – Was your dick really as big as mine?

            – Almost. I think yours is a bit bigger. It’s not easy, is it? Have you ever had sex with a woman?

            – No. I was with one nice girl for a couple of months and she suggested we have sex at her pad. So we went there and we stripped off in the dark, you know, sort of embarrassed. And I played with her, you know, touching her breasts and her tummy. And then she reached for my penis and it was so big she could hardly get her hand around it. It was just laying along my leg, not even erect yet. And she screamed so loud. I was frightened. She just wouldn’t stop screaming so I grabbed my clothes and put them on outside the bedroom and let myself out. I don’t know if she has stopped screaming.

            – Haha! Poor woman. If I promise not to scream, can I touch your penis?

            – Yes!

            – Are you tired? Shall we go to bed? You’ll have to sleep with me. I don’t have another bed but mine is fairly wide. I think we’ll both fit in.

 

Alec was able to undress himself with his stumps. Andy sat on his bed, squirming to get his one‑legged sports trousers off.

            – Help me to the bathroom. Do you have a toothbrush?

            – Yes. It’s in my bag. I’ll get it.

Andy brushed Alec’s teeth. He brushed his own and hopped back to the bedroom, supported by Alec. He was no longer able to lie on his amputated side. That was for Alec. They snuggled together, both smelling clean, both feeling horny, both seriously disabled. Alec gripped Andy’s neck with a stump and Andy placed his leg where he could feel Alec’s penis along his thigh. After an hour of accustoming themselves to each other’s presence, they slept in each other’s warmth for seven hours.

 

Andy dressed Alec in the clean orange hoodie and jeans in which Alec had arrived. He rolled the sleeves up a little to allow Alec some tactile sensation. And also because he liked to see the stumps. Andy put trainers on three feet, settled his crutches into his armpits and the two men left for a long and tedious ride to Max’s home. Alec was looking forward to seeing Simon again, as well as trying out his first ever hook. After a few stations, they found adjacent seating and watched other rush hour commuters. They were jostled as they struggled twice to change trains. Andy’s crutches counted for nothing. The third train was more comfortable, travelling against the peak flow. They left the train at Epsom and walked through the affluent streets to Max’s opulent home. The fountain in the grounds sparkled in the sunlight. Simon had heard a warning siren as the men entered from the street, breaking an infrared beam. He opened the front door and smiled at the two visitors.

            – Hello. Welcome. Please come inside. Alec, it’s good to see you. Follow me, please.

Simon was clearly in his role as houseboy rather than as himself. He wore a crisp white shirt with a black tie and black shorts. His bilateral below knee prostheses with their odd metallic feet were on full view. Perhaps Max demanded a little decorum when there was official business to be done. Simon guided the amputees into the lounge where Max sat at a table with a few small cardboard boxes arranged on it.

            – Good morning. I’m pleased you could come. I have been examining this experimental prosthesis and I see it’s rather better designed than I initially thought. Andy, take a seat, please. No need to stand. Alec, young man, take your hoodie off and let’s see what your stumps look like.

 

Alec sat at the table and held out his stumps for Max. Max held each in turn, inspecting the scar, appraising the remaining musculature, estimating the amount of stump shrinkage still to come. The socket was adjustable so shrinkage would not pose a problem.

            – These look very neat. I’m sure you would rather have your hands but as far as stumps go, Alec, you have a superb pair. Nothing to be ashamed of. Wear them with pride. Now, which arm do you want to wear the hook on?

            – On the right. I was right-handed.

            – You still are. Very well. That settles which of these harnesses we shall need. I’m going to adjust this nylon socket so it conforms to your stump.

The socket was attached to a U-shaped adjustable steel frame. The frame was adjusted for length, allowing the socket to be positioned correctly. The curving nylon sections were held in place by ratchets.

            – Put this stump sock on. Shall I do it? There. It’s fairly thick. It will be warm in this weather but that cannot be avoided.

Max turned the device one way and another, first finding a practical length of the steel frame. It was important that the hook was at a suitable distance. He lifted it onto Alec’s stump and set to adjusting the wing-like sections which would shortly form a sturdy socket. It was white translucent nylon, printed at the creators’ university. Max had not heard anything further about the device. Perhaps it had proved unsuitable somehow. Too expensive or too weak. His curiosity was piqued and he intended contacting the university to inquire further.

            – Right. How does that feel? Not too tight? Twist your stump back and forth.

            – I think it will stay in place unless I really shake it.

            – Alright. Let’s see about a harness.

He picked up one of the boxes and opened it. Inside was a tight roll of white nylon strapping with black plastic buckles. The shoulder loop was obvious. Max fed it up Alec’s left stump to his shoulder and pull the strapping tight. A steel ring marked the centre point to which the control cable would be attached shortly. A curved piece of nylon served as the upper arm cuff, through which the straps were threaded and attached to receptor slits in the steel frame. Max twisted Alec’s stump from side to side, checking the fit, tightening the straps until the prosthesis appeared to fit adequately. After the final adjustments, the extra length of the straps could be sliced off and welded closed with a flame. Only the cable was missing. There was a raised loop on part of the socket through which it needed to pass. Max started at the centre ring in the middle of Alec’s back, feeding the cable below his shoulder and through the cuff and socket anchors. It was a little too short to clip onto the hook. Max made another adjustment and the steel retaining ball at the end of the cable slipped into its receptor on the hook.

            – Well, young man, you have your first artificial arm. Stretch your stump and see if you can open the hook. Good. Now hold the hook in place and push your left shoulder forward.

The hook opened.

            – Good. Lift your arm up as far as you can and try again.

Alec was fighting to remain calm. He was ecstatic to finally be using his very own hook. The prosthesis looked very different from the ones he had fallen in love with years ago. The white nylon looked clinical but if he wore it under his hoodie, only the hook and steel frame would be visible.

            – Now, as a special favour to you, Alec, I’m going to forego any charge for this prosthesis. I received it without any expense in order to trial it. I’m pleased to see it being put to use at long last. But you are going to need bilateral hooks in the near future and I will have to charge you for those, assuming, of course, you would like me to manufacture them for you.

            – How much will they cost?

            – Three thousand per arm is the standard charge. If I charge only for materials, half that amount, approximately.

            – So a pair will cost at least three thousand?

            – That is so.

Andy watched Alec’s expression. He was clearly delighted with his new hook but fearful about the enormous sum of money he would have to pay for a proper pair. Andy knew he could easily afford to pay even the full price for Alec’s new arms but chose to remain silent for the time being. They could discuss the matter at home later, in private.

 

Alec stood and reached out his hook to shake hands with Max. Max also stood for the first time, leaning heavily against the table as he sought his balance on his prosthetic legs.

            – Let’s go to the kitchen and have some coffee.

 

Simon had been busy. He had made a dozen Danish-style open sandwiches featuring cheese, boiled egg and anchovies. They were garnished with tomato and parsley and looked like works of art. A large chrome-plated espresso machine gurgled quietly. Simon switched it on and turned to look at the odd device on his friend’s stump. Andy held Alec’s hoodie while he fed his stumps into it. The right sleeve could be rolled back down again. Alec sat on a tall stool at a bistro-style table and rested his hook on its surface.

            – You should be able to turn that hook so that it opens horizontally or vertically. Then you can practise picking up a glass or bottle, or something flat like a magazine or sandwich. You will have to find a way to turn the hook without your left hand. Don’t worry if it seems inconvenient at first. You’ll soon get used to the little tricks you’ll learn as you use the hook more and more. How does it feel?

            – It feels fine. Quite tight and firm but it is comfortable to wear with the thick sock underneath.

            – Good. I’m glad it is of service to you. As I mentioned, I am quite prepared to make you a set of prostheses but we should come to some arrangement about payment and work out a timetable. I don’t want to disappoint you, but I don’t believe that nylon socket will last more than three or four months, at most. It is not intended to be a permanent solution.

Alec listened carefully and nodded to show his understanding.

            – But now, do help yourselves. Simon, serve our guests their coffee in glasses, please.

It was a thoughtful gesture. Alec would have great difficulty holding a curvaceous thick-sided espresso cup. He might succeed with a straight-sided glass. Max leaned over the table and adjusted the hook to point upward.

            – Allow me. Now when you open the hook, you can grip your coffee.

            – Yes, I see. Thank you.

Alec pulled the hook open and carefully approached his coffee glass. He allowed it to close and lifted it slowly. The glass stayed firmly in place. He brought it as close to his face as he could without tilting it too much and leaned forward to meet it. He raised his arm slightly and tasted the bitter espresso. Delicious! He inspected his new hook and felt deeply happy. He wanted to try one of the sandwiches and asked Andy to turn his hook to point to the left. He nipped one of the open sandwiches and steadied it with his left stump. As he brought it towards his mouth, the tomato and parsley garnish fell onto the table but the other contents were held in place with mayonnaise. Alec was able to feed himself independently again. He managed to eat without further mishap and carefully picked up the fallen items from the table and ate them. The other three watched his performance with varying degrees of interest and admiration. He looked around at them with a huge grin. Andy wiped a glob of mayonnaise from his moustache.

            – It’s time we should make tracks. Max, we have some unfinished business. I’ll be in touch by email a little later. Thank you for your hospitality.

            – Thank you for the hook, sir.

            – I am happy to help. Boy, see our guests to the door.

The two younger amputees exchanged news briefly. Andy waited for Alec while he shook Simon’s hand.

            – Ready? Are you happy we came?

            – Yes! This is one of the best days of my life.

            – I suppose it is. That was very generous of Max to let you have the hook for free, although I realise he didn’t pay anything for it himself. Be careful with it, though. It won’t be as robust as a normal artificial arm.

            – I’ll be careful.

They strolled slowly back to Epsom station, both of them full of unspoken questions and desires. Andy had already decided that Alec could stay for as long as he wanted.

 

Alec was still severely disabled despite wearing a hook. He tried using it for everything and quickly discovered its limitations. It could not bend or rotate. The fingers of the hook could only pinch objects. They could not twist or turn anything. The hook opened only ten centimetres. Its inner edges were serrated but a little slippery on some objects. The hook could lift a kilo easily but little more. But Alec was pleased with what he could do and knew that if he had two hooks, he would be much better equipped. Andy knew it too. Let Alec learn as much as he could about hook use for a couple of weeks and then they could start discussing a custom-made pair of prostheses. Andy wanted Alec to have the steel hooks he fetishised.

 

The length of Alec’s stay was never mentioned. As a new working week began, Alec kept himself quietly amused and let Andy concentrate on his work. Andy took more breaks than he was accustomed to in order to sit with Alec over a cup of coffee and be with him. Alec realised that he had already stayed much longer than he had expected. Andy had not mentioned anything about looking for other accommodation. They slept together and lived together. They both liked each other’s looks and amputations. Alec was relieved by not needing to fret about his penis. Andy accepted, approved and understood fully. Alec had discovered one advantage to having such an enormous cock. He could still use his shortened arms to masturbate. His stumps felt exciting on his penis. Tentative pressure points along the shaft, not really able to grip, but warm and sensitive. Andy also loved watching him manipulate his cock with his stumps as they got into bed. The flaccid monster had to be positioned carefully and Alec used his stumps to guide it between his thighs or occasionally onto Andy’s.

 

One morning in the shower, Alec asked Andy to trim his beard.

            – Oh! Why do you want to cut your beard? It looks fabulous.

            – Really? I’ve never had a beard this long before. I always kept it short. It hasn’t been trimmed for over two months.

            – It looks all the better for it. It really is a very impressive beard, Alec. I wouldn’t like you to shorten it. I love the way it looks and I love running my fingers through it. Will you keep it long, just for me?

            – OK. I didn’t know you liked it so much.

            – Grow a yeard. Don’t trim it for a year. We could cut your hair if you like. Cut it all off and go bald. I reckon that would look impressive. Just think—a shiny bald head, a beautiful big beard and two steel hooks instead of hands. You’d look incredible.

            – When do you think I might have two hooks, Andy? You know I don’t have any money coming in.

            – Let’s say a pair of hooks will be my Christmas present to you. I’ve been watching how you manage with the one hook. I can see how much easier things would be for you if you had two. I’ve spoken to Max and asked him to order the components for a pair of arms. He’ll let me know when they arrive and then we can pay him another visit and get you fitted for your permanent artificial arms.

Alec was surprised and moved close to tears with gratitude.

            – Thank you.

Andy had also enquired about the possibility of shortening the gap between his amputations. As Alec became more dextrous and better able to function as a bilateral amputee, Andy considered that his own further disablement became more feasible and desirable. He might not be in a bucket at Christmas, but he fully intended to have a torso stump by Easter.

 

Alec began doing chores around the flat. He could use the washing machine and the vacuum cleaner. He washed the windows inside and out before the weather became too cold. He could slowly assemble sandwiches. He wanted to be able to brew a pot of coffee but Andy’s equipment was unsuitable for use with a hook. He could also dress himself and comb his beard, but not his hair. He wanted to be more useful in the kitchen, maybe prepare a meal or two.

 

Andy received an email from Max.

            – components available. initial fitting tues 30, 10:30. will discuss disart also. max.

            – Alec!

            – What’s up?

            – Max has got the stuff for your hooks. We have an appointment next Tuesday morning.

            – Great! Are you coming too? You don’t have to. I can find my way there now I know where it is.

            – Well, he wants to see me about my second amp. I told him I don’t want to wait a whole year. I wonder if he’ll lop it off straightaway like last time?

            – Is that what happened?

            – Yeah! We were discussing it and he said he could do it the next day. And he did. I was out of there on crutches by the end of the week.

            – Hmm. You won’t be on crutches next time. Do you think we should get you a wheelchair ahead of time? I mean, you’ll have to have a wheelchair, won’t you? You can’t be handwalking all the time.

            – Yeah, you’re quite right. We could get one beforehand. I’ll try and find a dealer nearby and we can go and choose one.

 

Andy accompanied Alec to his first session. Max was a traditionalist when it came to orthopaedia and preferred to manufacture sockets from a plaster of Paris mould. Andy was left in Simon’s capable hands while Max applied two casts to Alec’s arm stumps. Simon made tea and offered biscuits. He had some interesting news.

            – Dr Max is going to do my left disart next week. He said he had a client coming soon for a disart and he wanted to get his hand in. I think that means he needs the practice.

            – He’s joking with you, Simon. He doesn’t need any practice. I don’t suppose you know who the client is, do you?

            – No! Dr Max would never mention anyone’s name.

            – I was just wondering if he meant me. We’ve spoken about my next amputation, you see. I’d rather prefer not to wait a whole year before I have this off.

Andy slapped his thigh.

            – And after that, you’ll have your bucket.

            – Yes. I remember what you told me about one of the other customers who had a pair of legs fitted to his bucket. I think I’m going to want something similar. It would be wonderful to swing along on crutches, as tall as I am now but walking on rigid plastic legs.

            – I bet it would feel very exciting. I’m looking forward to having a full-length prosthetic leg, just the one. I’ll always walk on crutches and have the left trouser leg sewn closed.

            – That looks much neater, I always think. It’s difficult to say what kind of trousers would suit a man sitting in a bucket, isn’t it?

            – You don’t need to wear trousers at all. Just the bucket is enough.

            – Yes. I’m sure that would be fine.

 

Simon asked to be excused and started preparing lunch for two. Andy watched him absent‑mindedly, thinking about a life led at ground level in a plastic socket. Or heaving his weight along on two facsimiles of legs. Or even some kind of peg leg. How would Alec cope with assisting him with two hooks? It would be an adventure for both of them. A prosthetic escapade together wearing the devices they had lusted after and were soon to be fitted with. Andy stared at the unusual metal feet on Simon’s pylons and pictured them on a pair of pylons fitted to his socket. He would be able to stand on them, he felt.

 

Max and Alec were also deep in conversation about Alec’s experiences and impressions of the nylon socket and hook. Max had discovered that the project was abruptly cancelled. A three year research grant was terminated after only one year and no further development was possible. Commercial orthopaedic companies had no interest in funding such research and the few nylon prostheses which had been printed at the university were the only ones ever made. Max also discussed Alec’s socket design and the variety of wrist mechanisms which were available. He had ordered plain friction wrists which would allow Alec to change the orientation of the hooks but not to flex or bend the wrist in any way. Experience had shown that it was better for new bilateral patients to acclimatise themselves to prosthetic limbs with basic equipment before adding bells and whistles, as Max called them. Alec was in full agreement. He wanted the most basic equipment possible. His sockets and cuffs would be smooth shiny black carbon, the hooks the standard size and shape and the harness black canvas. Max noted the boy’s wishes and estimated that the prostheses would be ready for a first fitting in fifteen working days. Max washed plaster residue from the boy’s stumps and watched him don the nylon prosthesis. They left Max’s lab and found Andy and Simon watching a video of a legless amputee crutching along a street in a marathon race. The man’s socket was fitted with two steel pylons which joined a crossbar at knee height to which a solitary central peg leg was attached. Andy had already decided that something very similar would be his first bilateral bucket. The steel pylons would detach from it. His future self would be a legless torso on a steel peg leg. His stump had become engorged and precum dripped from the tip of his silicon catheter. Andy asked Max to watch the athlete navigating his race on crutches and the steel peg.

            – Max, this is what I want. We need to design my torso socket so I can attach legs like these. The two thigh pylons could accept the same metal feet as Simon is wearing, and the lower leg would be a steel peg.

            – Do you want the thighs to articulate? In other words, do you expect to be able to sit while wearing this?

            – No. I want the whole thing to be sturdy and rigid.

            – Very well. I will order the parts. Now, I understand that you are in a hurry to lose your leg. Come with me. I want to inspect your disarticulation.

It was unexpected. Simon handed him his crutches and Andy followed Max to the lab.

            – Sit on the couch and remove your trousers. Does the amputation still give you pain?

            – I can honestly say that it does not. After the wound healed, there have been no painful sensations whatsoever. I must say, I have been surprised. But, of course, the amputation site does not bear any weight or do any work.

            – Good. After your second amputation, there will be weight on your incisions as you move your body. I assume you have given this much thought. You are an intelligent man. You know what is involved in complete leglessness, and the personal risks involved. You will be a vulnerable figure. Quite helpless in many situations.

            – I am willing to take the risks.

            – Very well. I am prepared to amputate in the near future. My time will presently be occupied by tending to Simon. When he is mobile again, I will invite you for your decisive amputation. I need to ask you about the torso socket you showed me.

            – The one with the peg leg?

            – Yes. I can manufacture the socket so that the two thigh pylons are detachable. They can both be fitted with rubber ferrules to convert them into knee-high peg legs. You could ambulate with a pair of shortened crutches.

            – That is exactly the scenario I have in mind, with the addition of the crossbar holding the central peg to replace my shins. The assembly is not too complicated but requires some careful measurement.

            – Indeed. The steelwork will be done elsewhere. I do not have the equipment necessary for its assembly. But I do not believe it will be time-consuming to produce. After your incision has healed and is capable of bearing weight, we will first set to producing your socket. And only then will we be in a position to forward dimensions and instructions to the manufacturer. There may be three months between your second amputation and the first time you walk on your torso peg.

            – I understand. I appreciate your concern, Max. The result will be worth the wait.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Simon became a monopod of sorts. Max removed his right leg, leaving Simon with a left leg terminating fifteen centimetres below his knee. Max had promised him a new prosthesis, which ironically was based on an old design with a laced leather thigh socket and steel hinges at the knee.

            – And I would like the leg to be a peg leg, please sir. I want to learn how it feels to be very unstable and without a foot. I think it will be good practice for when I have only a thigh stump.

            – I hope you will not be very unstable, young man. In fact, a tripod is the most stable of forms.

            – Haha! I hadn’t thought of becoming a tripod, sir. I suppose I would be with one peg leg and two crutches.

            – Indeed. Does it excite you, Simon? Are you looking forward to having a single mechanical leg? You know it will be many months before I allow you a second amputation after the disarticulation.

            – I know, but it gives us time to plan more. How my duties will change when I have only a single peg and how it will affect our love. I hope you will still love me when I am almost legless, sir.

            – We will be approaching perfection, Simon. I will have two stumps, you will have only one. You will still be perfectly equipped physically to serve me, and I will love you more as I watch you struggle on a single peg leg.

            – I hope so, sir. I love our artificial legs, sir. I hope we can try many more together.

            – We shall, Simon. We shall. We’ll be limbess together with all our prostheses to enjoy.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Alec’s mood improved further over the next few days. He pushed himself and his nylon arm, determined to accomplish as much as possible. He often imagined himself with bilateral hooks and the image he would shortly present to any onlooker. He was determined that his new steel hooks would compensate for his lost hands. He imagined that he would be able to function as well as any two-handed man, merely doing things in a different manner.

 

He became more amorous towards Andy, who noticed the change. They had not made physical love. Andy was incapable of it and rarely mentioned it. Alec controlled his libido with admirable restraint. His erections were as frequent as for any other young man, but far more demanding and more conspicuous. He was able to handle his penis on a daily basis in the WC with his single hook and stump but was impatient to experience masturbation with his artificial arms. There were short clips of bilateral amputees tending to their erections on the video services which Alec had watched for many years as an aid to fantasising. Now he sought them out again as instructional videos demonstrating how to manipulate steel hooks along a penis for sexual pleasure. Alec’s challenge was to satisfy himself with the tenuous contact of a few square millimetres of steel. His enormous member would surely require more. Ideally he would have liked to make love with Andy but he dared not broach the subject. He was very much the junior partner and felt that dominating another man with his penis, even the presence of his penis, was not compatible with the beautiful amity between the pair of them. Alec bade his time and practised running his hook up and down his semi-hard penis, grateful in so many ways for the opportunity to do so, anticipating how his enormous cock would be tamed between the steel fingers of his artificial arms.

 

Andy, on his part, was impatient for his utter disablement. He found his mind wandering during the hours he spent programming or experimenting with ever renewing subsets of essential routines. Alec’s presence and contagious enthusiasm about his imminently available artificial arms had begun to inspire Andy to imagine himself not only as legless but also as an arm amputee. Manual input was already a choice. His work was not only possible but frequently more efficient with voice control in connection with artificial intelligence. He preferred tapping away at the keyboard out of habit. What might it be like if he exchanged his natural fingers for those of an artificial hand or a hook? He considered his legless life enhanced further by prosthetic arms. Would he ever be able to control his pegged rigid socket with artificial arms and crutches or would he become reliant on dragging his torso from room to room on a pair of hooks? Sometimes even that seemed a desirable outcome. What condition might Alec be in by then? He might also be on artificial legs or stubbies. The future for two such dysmorphic men was replete with prosthetic limbs. Only the absence of prosthetic limbs could slow them down. Andy began to feel the familiar pressure in his groin and the mound of his missing penis began to expand, encouraging the silicon tube of his catheter to twitch.

 

Max was unusually solicitous towards Simon in the days following the disarticulation of his right leg. Simon remained in bed and enjoyed a continual variety of meals, drinks and snacks brought in at regular intervals. Max’s lab was opposite their bedroom and Max left the doors open so he could hear if Simon called for something. In the meantime, he worked on Alec’s prostheses. He wanted to get them ready as soon as possible now because he wanted to work on Simon’s new peg leg. It would be a demanding job, involving many work phases with steel and leather. Max was curious to know if Simon would continue to hanker after a thigh stump after he learned to wear the peg leg. It could be that it would be disabling enough to fulfil Simon’s desire for leglessness. If he was honest with himself, Max was designing the peg for his own benefit too. He preferred seeing a peg leg in use rather than an ordinary prosthetic leg, although Simon could just as easily be fitted with a full-length peg after his fourth amputation. But all that was in the future. Max screwed two Hosmer Five hooks into Alec’s prostheses and attached the control cables. He pulled on them and watched the hooks open smoothly and silently. It was time for the boy to collect them.

 

Alec arrived alone for his final fitting. He was confident enough with his one hook that he would be able to handle travelling on public transport without assistance and Andy had said he wanted to get something finished. A few hours of uninterrupted work was exactly what he needed.

            – Good to see you, Alec. Do come in. I believe I have everything ready for you. How is Andy?

            – Very busy. Slaving away over a hot keyboard. May I ask how Simon is?

            – He’s very well. I’m afraid I’m pampering him rather but I do want him to rest while his incision heals. I think he is rather enjoying the rest, to be fair. You can see him before you leave, in fact. Now, here is your new equipment. If you take your prosthesis off, we can get started.

 

Alec sat next to Max at the table with the two artificial arms pointing away from him. There was a busy network of strapping linking the arms to the harness. Max pointed out the various components and explained how the cable could be adjusted to make it more or less responsive.

            – It’s important to don these arms correctly, Alec. If you get the straps in the wrong positions, you will not be able to operate the hooks.

He made sure Alec understood and invited him to feed his stumps correctly through the strapping and into the cool interiors of the sockets.

            – We’ll try the sockets first like this and sort out liner and stump socks in a moment. Now your harness is in front of your chest and you need to get it across your shoulders so lift your arms up and try to get the harness to drop down behind your head and across your back.

Alec struggled and gradually succeeded. The over-long straps dangled across his eyes. They would be shortened. The harness was in place, a little loose and hanging a little low.

            – How do the sockets feel?

            – They are comfortable but a bit roomy. I can tell they’re the right shape for my stumps, though.

            – Good. Take the arms off and put them back on the table as they were. Do it in reverse. Shrug a few times to loosen the harness and lift your arms above your head and bring them forward.

Alec arranged his equipment on the table as it had originally been. Max requested him to hold his stumps out and rolled silicon liners onto them. They were followed with cotton stump socks.

            – Try the sockets again, Alec. Don’t put the arms on. I need to know how the sockets feel.

It took more effort to work his stumps into the sockets this time but the effort paid off.

            – Oh, this feels wonderful! So firm and, I can’t think of what to say, so perfect.

            – I assume that means a good fit. Very well, Alec. Take your stumps out and don the whole prosthesis for me. Remember how the straps need to be.

Alec struggled out of the sockets and immediately set to arranging the strapping with his stumps. He looked at Max for confirmation and after a brief inspection, Max nodded. Alec donned his new arms again and waited for Max’s instructions.

            – I am going to tighten the harness for a snug fit. It should fit you perfectly without you needing to contract your muscles but there should also be no slack. I will adjust them now as well as possible but over the next weeks, you will almost certainly need readjustment. You can ask your companion to help or return here. Make an appointment, in that case.

Max asked Alec for assistance in standing and balanced on his prosthetic legs while adjusting Alec’s harness. It gradually conformed more accurately to Alec’s lithe young body and Max was finally satisfied.

            – One last thing.

            – The hooks?

            – Yes! The whole point of the exercise. You know how to operate them. Test them for me. Reach up! Bend down and try to pick this up.

Max dropped a glossy magazine onto the floor. Alec was able to nip the corner and lifted it halfway before it slipped from his hook and fell.

            – I think we could add a rubber band or two. How many bands were on your nylon prosthesis?

            – I’m not sure. Two or three, I suppose.

Max asked for it and looked closely at the steel wrist.

            – This only has two bands. I’m going to give you three on each side. It will make the hooks a little stiffer to open but the grip will be much stronger.

Max applied a band to each hook and asked Alec to retrieve the magazine again. This time it rose to the table.

            – Excellent. Well, young man, you have an operational pair of prosthetic arms. Learn to use them, treat them carefully and they will last you for many years. If you have any problems, do contact me.

            – Thank you, Dr Max.

Alec struggled back into his hoodie, finding it difficult to locate the second sleeve opening with a senseless steel hook. He shrugged the hoodie over his back and pushed his sleeves up to expose an expanse of black carbon and his hooks. He had a broad grin on his face which gave Max great pleasure.

            – Let’s pay Simon a short visit and you can show him your hooks. Please don’t tire him. He is still convalescing.

 

Simon was far too alert to be considered a convalescent. He waved at Alec.

            – I’ve been listening to you two. Alec, you look fantastic with hooks! Thank you so much, sir, for helping my friend.

            – It’s the least I could do. Shall we have our elevenses in here?

It was a little late for elevenses being almost half past midday but Max rocked slowly on his artificial legs and departed towards the kitchen.

            – I should say thank you to you too, Simon. I’d never have med Andy without your help and without Andy, I’d never have got hooks.

            – They’re what you really wanted, aren’t they? There’s one sad thing about them, though.

            – Oh? What’s that?

            – When you wear the hooks, no-one will be able to see your stumps. You have the coolest stumps I’ve ever seen.

            – Haha! Win some, lose some. How about you? What does it feel like to have your whole leg off?

            – It’s really strange. I can still feel my old stump. Not so much my foot. I got used to not having a foot. But when I try to lift my knee, nothing happens, although I can feel it. It’s so odd.

            – Are you going to walk around on one leg?

            – Sort of. Dr Max has promised to make me a peg leg, a really old-fashioned thing with a leather thigh cuff and lots of laces and a steel knee hinge and a leather stump socket.

            – Wow! That sounds amazing.

            – I know. And after that, I’ll use crutches with my one peg leg.

            – You’ll look really handsome on just one peg, Simon. It will be perfect, I’m sure.

Max returned, carefully balancing a tray with three mugs of coffee. He placed one on Simon’s side table, offered one to Alec and waited while the boy arranged a hook to grip the mug, and finally took one for himself. He said nothing to Alec about handling a mug with his hook. The boy should have enough experience already and he knew that the hook had enough tension to hold the mug. It was a different matter to drink the coffee. Max was interested to see how the boy managed.

            – What have you been talking about?

            – I was explaining to Alec about my leather and steel peg leg.

            – Yes. It will be a unique leg. Of course, all protheses are unique in their own way but Simon’s new leg is going to be the first of its kind made in this country for at least eighty years.

            – It’s very exciting. I can’t wait to see it.

            – I am going to start work on it now that you have your new arms, Alec. I expect it will be a month before Simon is confident enough on his crutches to invite you to see him wearing it.

Alec realised that his coffee was cooling. The hook was at such an angle that he needed to bend his head to the rim of the mug to sip some of the liquid. After that, he could gradually tilt the mug towards himself without letting the coffee spill. It was a little awkward but he succeeded. The other two watched him, a friend and valued client struggling to do something completely normal with new prosthetic equipment.

            – Thank you for the coffee, sir. I should be getting back. Goodbye, Simon.

            – I’ll see you out. Please give my best wishes to Andy. I will be in touch with him before long.

            – Thank you. Goodbye.

Alec turned and walked around the fountain. His hooks hung by his side, senseless and motionless. Alec had never felt better in his life.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Andy’s second disarticulation was arranged for a Monday morning in late February. He received six week’s warning in order to arrange his living conditions for a stumpless torso. He purchased a lightweight aluminium wheelchair, seat cushions, tote bags, led lights and a pair of the cheapest wooden walking sticks. The chair was fitted with two Velcro belts to hold the user securely in place. For many weeks, Andy would sit precariously on his old disart site, on half a former buttock which was now wrapped around his pelvic area. It would be a while before the new disart healed enough to bear any weight. Max explained that much of his recovery time should be spent lying down. Andy understood very well but was reluctant to present such a helpless image to Alec.

 

Both men arrived in good time after a crowded rush hour journey on three trains. Andy sat in his wheelchair and wheeled himself along, assisted by Alec on slopes and kerbs. Simon had been granted permission to resume some of his duties after acclimatising himself to his new configuration. Max had worked on the old-fashioned peg leg for five weeks, ensuring not only that it would fit his Boy perfectly but that he himself would enjoy seeing the Boy transformed into a figure reminiscent of the Great War when a solitary peg leg was the best that many legless ex‑soldiers could hope for. The peg encased Simon’s natural limb almost entirely. Max altered Simon’s jeans so that the disart side remained sewn closed and the opposing leg was considerably shortened with a neat hem to expose as much of the leather thigh socket as possible. Leaning on a pair of axillary crutches, which were also of a design forgotten decades ago, Simon opened the door to the amputee visitors and stood grinning while they stared at the severely disabled invalid which the handsome young man had become.

            – Welcome! Please come in. Everything is ready for you, Mr Andy and Dr Max is waiting for you. Hello, Alec. It’s good to see you again.

Andy rose from his wheelchair and hopped into the entrance hall. Alec squeezed the wheelchair flat between his stumps and pulled the chair into the house backwards.

            – You can leave it there for the time being, Alec. Let’s go to meet Dr Max.

Simon heaved himself onto his crutches and kicked his peg leg forward. Alec had not known of Simon’s plans to adopt a peg leg and was fascinated by how incredibly disabling it looked. They followed Simon, Andy with an arm around Alec for support, and found Max seated at the table with his cylindrical stubbies pointing into the room.

            – Welcome, both of you. Are you ready, Andy?

            – Yes, thank you, Max. I am quite prepared for the alteration and the next few weeks. Alec also understands the situation, don’t you? We’ve discussed it many times.

            – Good. You are about to undergo one of the most disabling amputations. The fact that it is the second of its kind should leave you in no doubt of its immutable consequences.

            – If it results in a rounded torso stump, I am ready.

            – Then we should begin. Have you eaten anything today?

            – No, not since six o’clock yesterday evening.

            – Good. Alec, you are welcome to stay but we cannot permit you to watch the operation, and both Simon and I will be engaged.

            – Oh, thank you. I wasn’t expecting to stay. I’ll make my way back and leave you to it. Good bye, Andy.

Andy grabbed Alec’s hooks and pulled him closer for a kiss. The beard smelled of sandalwood and looked stunning.

            – I’ll see you soon.

Alec left the threesome, who shortly organised their artificial limbs to carry them to Max’s operating theatre. Andy hopped behind them, conscious of the fact that his leg would shortly be history. He would finally achieve the single huge stump he had lusted after for many years. He would never walk again. He would be a stump. His catheter leaked a transparent fluid at the thought.

 

Because Simon had been made so disabled by his own hand, Max saw to most of the preliminary preparations to anaesthetise Andy and to assemble the selection of tools and equipment he would require for the disarticulation. His broad unforgiving stubbies struck the tiled floor. Andy listened to him moving around, imagining himself with two thigh stumps held rigid in thick black carbon. It was not how he saw himself. Simon was seated on a tall stool, his peg leg hanging a few centimetres off the floor. It was Simon’s job to monitor the state of his anaesthesia and to administer more gas if and when required. Andy had full confidence in Simon’s skill and attention.

 

Max started the amputation. The operating table was lowered to an appropriate height. Max was well able to stand on the wide circular ends of his stubbies, having done so for many years through many amputations. He wielded his scalpel with firm assured movements, closing veins and arteries as he encountered them. He detached sinews and muscular tissue until finally, the leg dropped several centimetres to the table under its own weight. Max moved it aside and set about suturing the wound. He referred to his previous work on the opposing side, wishing to produce as accurate a mirror image for the patient as possible. Finally, he washed the site with distillated water and alcohol, and placed an adhesive dressing on the wound. It would suffice until Andy could be turned onto his side when bandages could be applied. Andy’s pelvic area now comprised his anus and a five centimetre catheter in place of his former magnificent penis.

 

Simon asked if the patient should receive more anaesthetic. Max was of the opinion that an extra two hours would give him time to clear the debris. The patient could remain in the operating theatre until he requested to be moved to the recovery room where he would stay until discharge. Max took the severed limb to the incinerator and fired up the oven. Simon checked Andy’s pulse and rose onto his peg. He met Max on his return from the incinerator. Max touched the boy’s cheek and laid a hand on his shoulder. He guided his Boy to the kitchen where they washed their hands. Simon brewed a pot of herbal tea and the two legless men sat quietly pondering on what they had just done.

 

Andy was awake shortly before midnight. He was still in the operating theatre. With Simon’s assistance, the sheets had been changed, a bandage of sorts had been wrapped around his torso stump and a sterile blanket covered his body. After a few moments of confusion, Andy realised where he was and attempted to sense his body. His incision was sore. Something had been done to his thigh. He tried to lift his leg. His brained obeyed but there was no sense of motion. He was either paralysed or his leg was gone. Simon noticed that he was awake.

            – Hello, Mr Andy. Welcome back. The operation was a success.

            – I’m legless?

            – Completely legless, sir. Nothing left.

Andy fell back against his pillow, imagining how his body looked to an outsider. He imagined himself hand-walking along a seafront, along an Underground platform, heaving his torso bucket up the Eiffel Tower step by step. No, that would not happen. He would be on crutches, at the same eye level as other men, standing on a peg leg with Alec by his side. He sighed, partly from fatigue, partly from ecstasy, closed his eyes and slept for ten hours.

 

In the morning, Max wheeled in a stretcher and with the co-operation of Andy and a careful effort from Simon, Andy was transferred into a far more comfortable bed in the recovery room. He remembered its sparse decorations, the stark modern lighting and abstract paintings on the wall. Max allowed him to recuperate for another twenty-four hours before inspecting the suture. The main thing was to keep the patient as comfortable as possible, knowing that being compelled to remain horizontal was both uncomfortable and annoying. It would last only a week or two until the stump was capable of bearing weight. Uniquely, Andy would be able to balance comfortably on the midpoint of his pelvis. He had no genitals to worry about, unlike all the previous body torsos Max had created. Three days later, he mentioned this fact to Max.

            – Are you sure you can balance yourself without putting weight on the suture?

            – Yes, fairly sure. We won’t know until we try it. My wheelchair has a cushion we could use to keep weight off it. I’d be able to be mobile again.

            – I’m not sure, Andy. I suppose we could try but you must relent if you feel any pain. This is most irregular.

Against his better judgment, Max fetched Andy’s wheelchair and arranged the cushioning so that the suture would not bear pressure. The wheelchair was already equipped with two broad Velcro belts which Max fixed around Andy’s chest and midriff. He was one with his chair, slightly tilted in favour of his newly missing leg. Max would allow him a couple of hours before insisting he return to his bed to prevent back pain.

Simon was intrigued by Andy’s new body. He was in such a situation himself where he could forego his peg leg for a thigh stump or even a second disarticulation. Therefore he was intensely curious to know how Andy felt and what his future plans for mobility were.

 

            – You’re very good in the wheelchair, Mr Andy. Have you used one before?

            – Only for a short time. Long enough to know what to look out for when I bought this one. But I don’t intend to use the chair very much. I’m very interested to see you walking around, Simon. You still have most of a leg and yet the way you walk is exactly the same as how I will walk when I get my peg leg bucket.

            – Yes, I think so too. Are you going to get a bucket with the long legs attached, sir? I’m sure Dr Max could make you one like that. Then it would look like you still have legs, sir. But you would need to swing them together using crutches. I think it would be a beautiful way to walk, sir.

            – Are you going to ask Dr Max to amputate your leg so you can walk like that, Simon? Put your body stump into a socket which has legs attached?

            –I don’t know yet, sir. That’s why I am most interested to see you and your bucket. I love my peg leg, although it does mean that I can’t do most things now. I am very disabled but Dr Max has said that he likes to see me like this. Maybe he won’t allow me to have a thigh stump or a disart. But I have to say that having one old-fashioned peg leg is a lot of fun. It feels so strange to have my leg stump gripped at my thighs and stuffed into the stump socket and the hinge at my knee prevents me from moving it in any other direction. It’s not really like having a leg.

            – So you like having just the one peg leg?

            – Yes sir. It’s like the way I was meant to be. No legs, you see, sir.

            – I understand, Simon. Look at me. No legs.

            – It’s very beautiful, sir. I hope I can see your stump some time. It looks so exciting without a penis, too.

            – Sometimes I miss not having a penis but Alec has a very nice one. Quite big.

            – I know, sir. He used to fuck me with it. It used to hurt but it felt good at the same time. Does that make any sense?

Andy looked at Simon’s plaintive expression and thought of his man ploughing his enormous tool into Simon. It seemed incredible. Why had he never asked Alec to make love to him? Of course the man needed sexual escape! He had no hands. How else could he satisfy himself? Andy decided that in future, Alec would be able to insert his shaft any time he wanted. Andy would always be too disabled to prevent Alec from buggering his torso whenever he felt the urge. The idea of such vulnerability caused his middle stump to begin erecting. The catheter curled slightly as the idea of accepting Alec’s enormous tool into his stump excited him.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Alec returned home. He discovered how difficult it was to turn a key in a lock. Once inside, he realised he faced quite a few challenges in being alone. It was not his apartment and although he had lived there for many months, he had not felt free to explore fully. But, he reasoned, Andy would be home before long and would need help getting things from shelves, for example. Alec began a examination of Andy’s home in an attempt to discover more about the man he loved.

 

The closet and bedroom cupboards contained only clothes. Most of them were casual, hoodies and tracksuits. But there were two pristine black leather jackets with steel zippers and decorative straps. Alec had not seen Andy wearing leather. Alec wondered if they might fit him too and lifted one off its hanger. It was heavy and the leather was fairly stiff. Alec dropped it onto the bed and thought about the best way to try it on. After a few unsuccessful attempts at inserting an unfeeling hook into a sleeve opening from behind his back, Alec threw the jacket back onto the bed and sat down on the edge. If he leaned back, he might be able to wriggle the sleeves onto his artificial arms. It worked on the third attempt. Alec stood and shrugged his shoulders, settling his harness and the jacket together. He looked at himself in the mirror and grinned at the transformation. He had seen men wearing similar jackets in Soho. They always walked in pairs and wore heavy boots and officer’s caps. This jacket fit Alec well enough. The sleeves were a little long. His hooks were scarcely visible. He tried zipping up the front but his hooks were not able to gain purchase properly. He corrected himself—he was not able to grip the zipper with his hooks yet. He needed to practise such things.

 

Alec went into the living room. One corner was Andy’s work area with his computers and modems and servers stacked on a shelf. Where there was room, old technical manuals for various software were crammed next to each other. A red folder lay open on the desk. Alec glanced at it and saw an invoice with a shockingly large amount marked on it. If Andy billed such large sums regularly, he must be doing very well for himself. It was not surprising that he could afford to buy his new hooks ‘as a Christmas present’ or to afford his amputations. Alec felt a flash of envy but cut the feeling short. As long as he and Andy were together and Andy was capable of working, his future would be secure. He had no reason to feel envious. Alec looked around. There was little else which might hide revealing information. He assumed Andy had vast amounts of data including emails on his equipment but Alec felt that prying into such things was below him, even if he were capable. He looked down at the tips of his hooks poking out of the jacket sleeves and realised how disabled he had made himself. He looked stunning but was unable to turn a tap. And he wanted to make some coffee.

 

He shrugged the jacket off and let it drop to the floor. He lifted it by the leather loop at the collar and carried it back to the bedroom. In the kitchen, he gathered the things needed to brew a pot of coffee. The taps in the kitchen and bathroom were roughly globular and made of Perspex with shallow indentations. His hooks slid around on them. He needed something to grip the tap with. An adjustable wrench would work, or something similar. He looked in some drawers but found no tools. There was a pair of rubber gloves under the sink. Alec had little use for gloves but if he put one over the tap, he might be able to get a better grip. He squeezed the tap with both hooks and tried to rotate it. He was rewarded with a splash of cold water. He gripped the electric kettle and allowed it to fill halfway. The tap was easy enough to turn off. He found a jar of ground coffee and used the rubber glove method to open it. This time he used the other rubber glove to stand the jar on. Obviously, doing the simplest things required serious forethought and planning but he was doing what he wanted to do, with a little trial and error. He was unable to grasp a spoon so he opened both hooks, gripped the open jar and shook a quantity of ground coffee into a cafetière. Coffee grounds spilled onto the counter. He switched the kettle on to boil. It would be difficult to pour the water. The kettle’s handle was round. It would be hard to hold onto it. Maybe if he let it balance in one hook, he could tilt the kettle with the other. He sniggered at the realisation that he could hardly scald his hands. Nevertheless, he took care. The kettle slipped in his hook and boiling water splashed but most of it went into the coffee pot. He let it brew for a few minutes and looked for a mug or something he could grip. There were some cups with straight sides. He grasped one and discovered how awkward it was to turn the right way up. All he needed now was sugar. Andy bought sugar lumps. That was lucky. He could handle sugar lumps. Finally, the coffee was ready, there were two lumps of sugar in the cup and Alec used the suspend‑and‑tilt method to pour coffee from the cafetière. He moved the cup carefully to the table, noticing how difficult it was to keep even. Coffee sloshed onto the floor.

 

But Alec had made coffee for himself. It had been frustrating and he had some cleaning to do but he was pleased with himself. His hooks rested on the table, their curves reminiscent of the sardonic smiles of circus clowns.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Andy was faring rather better. Max ensured that his patient was comfortable. He had instructed Simon to keep Andy company and to enquire regularly if he was hungry or would like a drink. Simon was now too disabled to carry a tray but he frequently pegged to wherever Max was to relay Andy’s requests. Max was usually in his lab, preparing to manufacture Andy’s first torso socket. He had already specified the dimensions of the steel fittings needed to attach the variety of peg legs to its base. A local prosthetist was working on them. Max had also sought out the illustrations he had made for the torso sockets which incorporated two legs. The mouldings were in storage and would be useful if Andy decided to order a set of immovable rigid legs.

 

The knee joint on Simon’s peg leg had suddenly begun to squeak. Simon was embarrassed by it but Max thought it was amusing, a useful signal of Simon’s whereabouts. He heard it now.

            – Andy asks if he could have his supper and a cup of tea.

            – Very well. Thank you, Boy. Tell him that he will have an omelette with ham in twenty minutes. Is he content, do you think?

            – Yes, I think so, sir. He wants to walk on his stump already but I tell him he must wait for your permission, sir.

            – Good. I can not prevent him if he insists, but his stump will heal faster if he is patient now. Explain that to him.

            – I will, sir, but I think he already knows.

 

Andy did know. He was frustrated at having his torso stump at last but having to wait to use it. He urgently desired to swing it between his arms, sensing its alien nature, its lack of any vestige of limbs, its unnatural sexless flesh. His body was a mere stump and he nursed a phantom erection for much of the day. Even after Max was satisfied with it, another week would pass before he could slide the stump into his new bucket and begin the process of graduating from swinging the legless bucket along to walking on two short pegs and then later, one longer peg leg. He watched Simon crutching about on his squeaking peg leg enviously and envisaged himself in a similar situation. His central stump pulsed.

 

Days passed. Andy was allowed to sit up for longer periods, securely supported with pillows and cushions. Simon kept him company, discussing prosthetic solutions to their amputations and the never‑ceasing desire to experience more severe disability and deeper helplessness. Alec battled on with his recalcitrant artificial arms, spending much time persuading steel hooks to act as hands. Even minor actions now demanded planning and considerable effort. Max received a request from a voluntary amputee requesting the disarticulations of his left arm and right leg. He would be left with a short stump at his right shoulder, already fitted with a prosthetic arm and hook for the past ten years, and a left leg which required an orthopaedic brace. Max flipped through his diary, and found a three week period which would suit himself and Simon. But first, Andy had to be fitted with a socket or two. There was no time like the present.

 

            – Boy! Come here!

            – Oh! Sorry, Mr Andy. I have to go.

Simon grabbed his old-fashioned wooden crutches and rose onto his peg leg. Its knee joint squealed as he kicked it into motion.

            – Yes sir? Do you need help?

            – I do. I need you to bring Andy here for his first casting. Let him get into his wheelchair himself but make sure the seat has a thick cushion first.

            – Yes sir.

            – When you bring him, leave your crutches behind and push the wheelchair yourself.

It was an exciting idea. Would he be able to push using his peg? He would give it a try. He crutched back to Andy’s room.

            – It’s time for your first casting. You have to get into your chair. Can you do it yourself, Mr Andy?

            – I think so. We shall see.

The wheelchair was in the corner of the room. Bearing in mind what Max had told him, he leaned his crutches against the wall and quickly grabbed hold of the push handles. He balanced on his peg and tried to hop. He could not move. Next he pushed the chair a short way in front of him and tentatively leaned on it. He could flex his knee slightly and simulate a hop that way. Slowly the wheelchair approached Andy’s bedside. Andy watched Simon in wonder. The concentration on the boy’s face was fascinating to see.

            – You are very disabled, aren’t you, Simon? How do you like it?

            – It feels wonderful to have such a difficult old-fashioned peg leg, sir. I really am almost as good as legless.

            – Not as legless as me, though. Will you help me?

            – No sir. Dr Max says you can sit in it yourself but I have to put a pillow down first.

            – Here!  Use this one.

Simon spread it across the seat. Andy tried to sit up and realised how impossible that was. He put his arms behind him and pushed himself up. He used his arms to lift himself slightly and moved his stump forward a centimetre or two. And again. He felt fairly weak after being in bed for a fortnight. He was almost at the edge of the bed. He fell forward, grabbing hold of the armrests and hauled himself onto the seat. He was facing sideways and corrected his position. It had been far more difficult that he had expected but now he was in his chair. Simon manoeuvred his peg so he could attempt to turn the wheelchair and leaned into it. Andy held onto the armrests for support. Finally, Simon was able to put some weight behind his efforts and hop-jumped his way with his cargo down the hallway to Dr Max’s laboratory.

            – Good morning, Andy. I need you to prepare yourself for an uncomfortable couple of hours. I am going to take the first casting for your torso socket and I need you to be suspended on this apparatus. I am going to cast you up to your armpits but you can decide later how high you wish the socket to be. I advise a full body socket.

            – Yes, I agree.

Andy knew that a short socket around his midriff would allow him more freedom of movement. He chose to be as disabled as possible. All his sockets would be rigid from his former buttocks to his armpits.

            – I am going to lower the arm rests on this support. Take hold of them firmly. I will then position you where I need you and you will support yourself on your arms until I am ready. Do you understand?

            – Yes sir.

            – I will work as quickly as I can. I know this is difficult for you.

Andy was soon holding onto the casting equipment. His torso hung down, fortunately not a great weight without legs. Max removed his bandages and Simon saw the naked torso stump for the first time. His eyes widened. Andy looked magnificent. Even the short silicon tube which compensated for a penis looked erotic. It was wondrous to see Andy’s perfectly normal upper body with nothing, nothing at all below. It hardly looked possible. Simon looked down at his own leg, knowing that it would not be beyond hope that he could have his remaining stump removed in the same way. He would be as legless as the handsome man before him now.

 

Max worked rhythmically with practised motions. The plaster bandages gradually covered Andy’s amputation site, then his belly and waist, past his chest and around his armpits. Max waited several minutes before using a cast cutter to remove the front from the back. He washed the torso with a sponge and warm water and brought the wheelchair next to the casting apparatus.

            – I am going to swing you onto your chair. Try not to knock your stump.

Simon pushed the chair back to Andy’s room in his tortured fashion. Max watched his disabled boy struggling and admired him all the more. The old-style peg leg was an ingenious idea. Max saw little reason to amputate the boy further. He had been hobbled as much as it was possible to disable another man. Only Andy had reached the ultimate stage for a functioning, mobile man. Further disablement would require removal of the arms and Max suspected that Andy was not a candidate for that particular nirvana. The man would roll on his stump through life, and Max was proud to have made it possible. He cleaned the lab of plaster debris, set the two halves of Andy’s torso cast to one side to dry, went to his bedroom and masturbated in front of the full-length mirror. His semen splashed against its surface. He shucked his artificial legs and donned his shortest cylindrical stubbies. It was the closest he could get to immobility. He took twelve centimetre steps to Andy’s room to find the man on his bed, Simon on his high stool and the wheelchair tidily returned to the corner.

            – Well done, everyone. What a wonderful team we are.

 

Two storeys below Andy’s flat, a fat fire started in a restaurant kitchen. A kitchen aide, a young man who was recruited because he was the nephew of one of the waiters, saw it first and heaved a large pan of boiling water onto the flames. The burning oil splashed throughout the kitchen, igniting everything flammable and making access impossible. The kitchen aide, seriously burned, ran screaming into the salon, and within seconds the restaurant was empty of customers. The fire blazed inside, growing stronger. Tendrils of flame followed hot gasses up the air conditioning conduits into the flats above. Alec noticed the smell first and then the smoke pouring into the kitchen. He had no idea what was happening but common sense told him to get out as fast as he could. He grabbed his phone and rushed into the hallway and down onto the street. Flames poured through the broken windows of the restaurant. The fire service was soon present, doing their best to extinguish the flames. The first floor apartments were also on fire. In panic, Alec called Andy.

            – The flat’s on fire! The restaurant’s burning. Andy, we’re gonna lose everything!

            – What? Calm down! You’re saying the restaurant is on fire? Are you safe? Where are you?

            – I’m on the street. There was a terrible smell from the kitchen and then it started to burn. I ran outside. I’m outside now.

            – OK. You’re safe. Don’t worry.

The legless torso alerted Simon.

            – Tell Max I need him!

            – Oh! What’s wrong?

            – Just fetch him, Simon!

Simon pegged to the lab first and, seeing no-one, along the corridor to their living quarters and the kitchen. Max was in an easy chair, his short stubbies pointing upwards.

            – Andy is upset. He says he needs you, sir.

Max wriggled off the chair and swung his stumps as fast as he could to reach Andy.

            – What on earth is going on?

            – There’s a fire at our place. Alec is safe but has nowhere to go.

            – Oh! Invite him here. How terrible!

            – Alec? Max says to get yourself here. Have you got any money? Well, you can use your phone on the trains. Yes, you can. No, don’t try to bring anything. Just get yourself here as soon as you can. Yes, come right now. It doesn’t matter if the door is open! Get on a train now. Are you wearing your hooks? OK, then you have everything you need. OK, see you. Bye.

            – He’s on his way.

            – Thank heavens for that. I’d better let the fire service know he’s safe and your apartment is empty.

Andy fell back against his pillows and thought about how he was going to live if his flat was out of commission. He needed to get home to see what was salvageable and realised his overwhelming disability. He would be doing nothing of the sort, not for many weeks.

 

Alec arrived after a couple of hours. He was visibly distressed, the more so because he found himself once again homeless. Homeless and disabled. Both Max and Simon accompanied him to Andy’s bedside.

            – Are you OK, Alec? You’re not hurt, are you?

            – No, no I’m fine. But Andy! What are we going to do? Where are we going to live? And all our things!

            – With all respect, Alec, you should wait until we discover the extent of the damage. It could be that the fire is contained, although there will certainly be water damage. As for a place to stay, you are welcome to stay in our guest room.

            – Thank you, Max. That is very kind of you.

            – It’s the least we can do under the circumstances. Now, Alec, you can sit with Andy for a while but try not to make the situation worse. Come with me, Simon.

Max stumped out, followed by Simon on his peg. They went to the kitchen, where Max began to brew a large pot of tea.

            – Are they going to be able to move back, sir?

            – Not until the insurance company has inspected the premises and the fire service declares the building to be safe.

            – But that will take ages!

            – I assume so.

            – I was wondering, sir, if it would be possible for them to live here with us, especially if Alec is already going to be in the guest room. We don’t really have guests, do we, sir? Perhaps they could live there.

            – And share the house with us, Boy? Is that what you are suggesting?

            – I suppose I am, sir.

            – It is an interesting thought. I have always valued our solitude, Boy. The simple fact that we are alone allows us to create the bodies we want. You would scarcely be walking on a single peg leg if we lived elsewhere. But both our guests have done the same thing. Perhaps we could live together harmoniously. I am willing to think about it. Leave it with me. Now I think it is time to rescue Andy from his distressed friend. Go and collect Alec, Boy, and bring him here.

 

An hour later, Alec had calmed down. Max assured him that he could stay until his and Andy’s affairs were in order, including Andy’s new prosthetics. Simon offered him his choice of Simon’s clothes, especially his trousers.

            – You are becoming rather expert with your hooks, I notice, Alec. If you want something to do to pass the time, I suggest a little gardening. I’m sure you would be quite capable of a spot of weeding.

            – Yes, thank you, sir. I could do that. I would like to help.

            – Good. Then everything is settled.

 

– – – – – – -

 

It was left to Andy to deal with the bureaucracy of insurance and reclamations after Alec made a brief visit. The flat had been fire damaged and would need considerable renovation. Alec was able to salvage Andy’s laptop and some hard disks. Their clothes all smelled strongly of smoke but Alec rescued Andy’s two black leather jackets. They were covered in fine grey ash but seemed otherwise to be in good condition. He dropped them into his bag and allowed the building superintendent to close off the flat.

 

The time had come for Andy to receive his first torso socket. It reached to his armpits and consisted of a reinforced back section and a more pliable front which were connected with Velcro straps. The base was flat and inlaid with a steel fitting into which two steel pylons could be screwed. They could be capped with rubber ferrules or attached to a steel bar which held a central steel pylon, a steel peg leg. The front of the socket had a rubberised flap through which Andy’s catheter could extrude.

 

Max helped Andy move his stump onto the rear section and showed him how to connect the front. Andy lay on his bed, the stump of his penis throbbing with excitement, and tried pushing himself erect. The socket merely rolled around. He could feel the pressure across his ribs which would bear most of his weight. His stump touched the base of the socket but was not weight-bearing.

            – Let me help you up, Andy. It is not easy the first time. Ideally you would have some kind of frame or a piece of furniture you can grab to pull yourself up. How does it feel?

            – It feels remarkable. Quite indescribable. It is not dissimilar to wearing a motorcycle helmet for the first time.

            – Ha! An apt description indeed. Yes, you are now held immobile, very rigid. Would you like to trying walking? Let me lift you to the floor.

Max positioned his artificial legs to take the strain and carefully placed the torso onto the hard wooden floor. Andy ran his hands over his bucket, enjoying the lack of tactile sensation, feeling himself held firmly, unable to move his stump. He placed his hands on the floor and tilted his head forwards slightly. By pushing on his hands, he managed to move the socket forwards a few centimetres. It did not feel safe. He was slightly top-heavy. He would topple if he overbalanced. He tried another step with the same result.

            – I know it is difficult, Andy. I have seen many legless men in your position discovering that it is not as easy to walk on their stump as they expected. But everything comes in time. Keep practising and you will find your balance. It may even be easier to use the short peg legs but you will need crutches for that. If you wish, come to the kitchen and we’ll have coffee and cake in celebration.

Max strode out and disappeared. Andy experimented with finding his centre of gravity. He began to find himself rather helpless, unable to turn, unable to lift himself, unable to move more than a handswidth at a time. And he was naked except for the bucket. It was a little too cool. He envisioned other men who he had seen pounding themselves along, swinging their sockets around as they changed direction. It seemed to come from their powerful arms. That was the problem! His arms were those of an IT programmer, not those of a limbless athlete. Not willing to give up, Andy patiently forced his bucket to face the door and swung himself slowly and carefully towards it. If he reached the kitchen within the hour, he felt he would deserve some cake.

 

– – – – – – -

 

Alec and Simon became closer, reigniting their old friendship when they had made love together. Simon was responsible for the meals they ate. He sat on his tall stool by the stove or at the table, making preparations. Alec watched him working. Many of the vegetables which they ate had been tended to by Alec, who found gardening to be not only enjoyable but also ideally suited to a man whose arms ended in two very useful gardening tools. His hooks could nip weeds, pick vegetables from the ground or dig holes to plant new growth. They became scratched and worn. Max noticed and ordered a pair of work hooks which might prove even more practical.

 

Summer passed. Andy received an acceptable compensation from his insurance company. The fire had damaged the building’s load-bearing structure so badly that it would be demolished. Nothing of their old lives would remain except for the old IT data and two miraculously intact leather jackets. Max had cleaned and aired them. They bore a slightly smoky odour which was not in itself offensive. Andy took to wearing one with his bucket, especially when he wore his short pegs and ventured out with Alec. He had mastered his short crutches and found it much easier to swing his stump when he stood a little taller. He had practised walking a few times on the longer solitary peg leg but it felt too unstable, although not impossible. For the time being, he was satisfied with his two short peg legs.

 

Max’s disarticulation client arrived and spent his first evening with the four residents. He introduced himself as Joshua and became so enamoured of seeing Alec wielding his hooks as naturally as hands that he requested a revision to his order. He wished to retain a stump on his left arm after all, to match his old right amputation. Using two full-length artificial arms seemed to him to be well within the bounds of possibility, especially if they were as functional as Alec’s. He also wanted to revise his leg disarticulation to two femoral amputations, extremely short, just enough to leave his buttocks intact. He would be able to sit without a socket but could just as easily adopt one when he wanted. He was jealous of Andy swinging himself around on his torso stump, wearing nothing but his black carbon fibre bucket and a leather jacket. Max in turn revised his schedule and first amputated the man’s left arm so he had matching stumps. He recuperated in the hospital bed since the guest room was now occupied by Alec and Andy. When the arm stump was fully healed, Max would remove the crippled left leg and later, the remaining limb. Joshua became a familiar face during the months it took for him to shed three limbs and Andy welcomed him to share their quarters when he visited.

 

Andy mastered his long peg leg. He had devised a climbing frame beside his and Alec’s bed which allowed him to fit any extensions to his bucket and to lift himself erect. When Alec was working in the gardens, Andy often crutched over to talk to him. The length of the peg lent extra weight which Andy was grateful for, as it enabled him to swing his rigid stump and its peg with regular precision. Andy felt that he had found himself at last. He was a stump which walked on a peg leg. Alec admired and loved him. Once a week, Andy allowed Alec to enter his body. The enormous penis could reach past Andy’s prostate and its careful movement excited the gland beyond anything Andy could have imagined. The complete absence of his legs also made it easier and more efficient for Alec to penetrate him. Alec would have liked to fuck his lover more often but understood that delicate tissue ought not be chafed by his enormous cock and satisfied himself with his steel hooks. It was all in the rhythm, he discovered.

 

Simon fell and broke his knee. His peg leg failed and collapsed outside on the lawn. He blamed himself. It was his peg leg. He should have checked it better. Max immediately offered the opportunity of either casting the fracture or amputating the leg. Simon considered his old plan to have a thigh stump beside his disart but after seeing how well Andy manoeuvred on his torso peg, he asked Max to disarticulate his entire leg. He too wanted a bucket. He wanted to swing along on a steel peg leg. Max considered the practical inconvenience of having his boy, who was now a thirty year old man, out of commission for several months but considered that he would love the lad even more if he presented a rounded torso stump with his cock and balls intact. Alec was invited to act as anaesthetist, as he had done several times before, and the elderly Max performed his last ever disarticulation on the man he loved. Andy spent many hours during Simon’s recovery balancing on his peg leg beside Simon’s bed. They spoke of steep learning curves, the elegance of leglessness and the physiology of a truncated body. Andy was just as comfortable balancing on his peg as he was sitting on a chair. His bucket was all he felt. The peg leg was more practical, although he occasionally removed it when he accompanied Alec in public. Then it was more convenient to walk on his two shorter pegs over which he could wear shorts with his leather jacket. It was gratifying to realise how he had gradually become accustomed to walking on his peg and preferred using it whenever possible. He rarely wore shorts. He was seldom seen wearing anything other than his leather jacket. He was a fascinating figure to watch as he swung along between long wooden crutches, able to plant the tip of his peg leg in front of him quite effortlessly. Simon was excited about learning to walk on his own central peg leg. He had designed his torso socket with Max. It would conform exactly to his stump, rounded without a flat base. It would hold one of two alternative steel pylons, one thirty centimetres long, the other a whole metre.

 

As winter drew near, Andy realised that the foursome had settled into a mutually reliant relationship. He had been able to continue his IT work after acquiring new equipment and was financially independent. Alec had become the de facto groundsman and gardener, working for the benefit of the commune. Max took no rent from Andy and Alec, regarding Alec’s efforts as worthy compensation. Simon still struggled to walk on his long peg leg but was quite able to continue producing tasty meals. He adopted Andy’s example of not wearing shorts and allowed his stump‑conforming carbon socket to be visible at all times. In the evenings, which the group spent together, Simon unscrewed his peg leg and reclined in his torso socket, his head resting on Max’s shoulder.

 

One evening, as Simon pegged into the living room after clearing the evening meal, Andy dropped the bombshell he had been planning for a few weeks. He used his crutches to spin on his peg to face the others.

            – If I might have your kind attention, gentlemen. First of all, I want to express my gratitude on behalf of myself and Alec to you, Max, and to you, Simon, for your hospitality towards us after we lost our home last spring. I hope I can speak for all of us if I say that I feel we have grown into a family. I would not like to think of a time when we are not together. Long may it continue.

            – You are very kind to say so, Andy. I also hope we can remain together. I am grateful to you both for bringing new life and new ideas into our home.

            – So I wanted to share this moment with you. I have considered it for a long time, never feeling secure enough until now. Alec, I would like to ask you to become my husband. Will you marry me, my friend?

Max grinned. Simon flipped his socket back a little so he could lean in closer. Alec, with his ever‑expressive face, looked at Andy in surprise. A smile brightened his handsome face and his eyes shone with love.

            – Yes! Of course I will. I hoped you might ask one day. You have kept this a secret!

            – There were some arrangements to make first. I had to have your engagement ring made specially.

Andy leaned on his crutches and took something out of his inside jacket pocket. It was a flat box, red, of faux leather. Alec reached up with an open hook to accept it. He moved the box from hook to hook until it opened, revealing a large gold ring.

            – It’s beautiful. Thank you, Andy.

            – Are you going to put it on?

Alec looked quizzically at Max and Simon.

            – Shall I?

            – Go ahead, Alec.

Alec stood and allowed his leisurewear pants to drop. He sat again and hooked his penis into his lap. He ran his hooks up and down the shaft a few times and the enormous cock began to erect. It was a fascinating sight, hugely impressive. Alec worked the ring between his hooks until he could drop it over his glans and gently pulled it down onto his shaft. It soon nestled in his dark pubic hair, glinting and holding blood in Alec’s tool. Andy balanced on his peg, knowing he should embrace Alec. He waited for Alec to stand and they hugged. Andy dropped his crutches, relying on Alec’s support. Alec’s enormous penis pressed against Andy’s socket, the glistening purple head reaching their chests. They held each other until Andy asked if he could lay on the sofa next to Simon. Alec turned him and hooked onto Andy’s epaulettes. He lowered his future husband’s rigid figure to the seat, careful not to allow the peg leg to knock anything.

            – Thanks. Let me get my pegs off and I can sit with you. Simon, you have hands. Will you help, please?

Simon twisted himself around and did his best to balance on his stump socket. He detached Andy’s lower peg and unscrewed the two short ones from the socket. Alec took the pegs and placed them on a side table. While the others waited for Andy and Simon to arrange their stumps, Alec tugged his pants up, leaving only his cock extending from the waistband. It showed no sign of deflating, thanks to the engagement ring. He sat at the end of the sofa, and placed his left hook around Andy’s waist. Neither of them could feel anything but it was the expected gesture.

 

Alec suggested first that they should call it a night. After a brief excursion via the toilet, Alec lifted Andy onto their bed and they both set about removing their prostheses. Alec used both arm stumps to fondle Andy’s wide torso stump. His penis slowly engorged. Andy pulled himself onto his front to allow Alec access to his stump. Alec guided his glans to Andy’s anus and waited for his lover to relax so he could enter. He pushed gently and then with more force until he had inserted thirty-odd centimetres into Andy’s colon. Andy was limp with ecstasy. They fucked for nearly an hour. Alec asked to stop, saying he needed to relax. He extracted his tool slowly, causing another orgasm for Andy. Alec washed his cock and admired his golden cock ring. He went back to the bedroom, lay down and lifted Andy onto his chest. The penis lay along Andy’s back. Alec hugged Andy, whose face was buried in his beard and they slept.

 

Joshua was the only outside guest. He arrived on a skateboard. He was wearing the shortest possible stubbies which he had designed with a prosthetist. His artificial arms were unusually short. He stepped off his board and waddled into the registrar with ten centimetre strides. The two grooms and their witnesses stood in a line waiting patiently for him. Andy had suggested they wear Scottish costume which was not only appropriate for such an occasion, it was also the only dignified way Simon and he himself could wear their peg legs. Both men stood on crutches, balancing on their solitary peg legs. Max wore a kilt with long white socks, revealing only his two prosthetic knees. Andy had dressed Alec, who stood erect, looking proud as punch, his massive penis almost reaching the hem of his kilt, his steel hooks glinting at his cuffs. The registrar noted Andy’s nod of confirmation and invited the couple to step forward. Andy swung his stump three times, planting his peg leg squarely in front of him, slowing to a stop by the registrar’s desk. Alec stood next to him. The registrar intoned the marriage litany. In lieu of traditional wedding rings, the grooms had decided to use gold chains instead. Max rocked forward and paced the chains around the grooms’ necks. The registrar congratulated them and concluded the ceremony. Andy and Alec were a married couple with four limbs and three stumps between them. And one enviable penis.

 

A celebratory meal had been organised in a nearby hotel. The furniture had been rearranged to accommodate the guests’ disabilities. Max lifted the legless Joshua onto a chair at a standard table, which seated himself and Alec. A taller table had been borrowed from the bar and it stood touching the other. Andy and Simon were able to relinquish their crutches and support themselves by leaning against or holding on to the high table. An opulent three course meal centred around Scottish salmon was laid before them. Joshua regaled them with anecdotes gleaned from his experiences with his artificial limbs as a fashion designer and how some famous names among the glitterati had reacted to meeting him after a year’s absence. Despite his severely foreshortened arms operated by the short stumps at his shoulders, he was easily able to feed himself with a conspicuous amount of body movement. He explained how he had worked with his prosthetist to create functional stubbies which allowed him to stand without a torso socket, although he admitted that he enjoyed the restrictive rigidity of his socket. He had a second pair of arms which were fitted with rubber anchors which allowed him to swing his socket along. It was inconvenient to exchange an anchor for a hook at times but it was a small price to pay for his triumphant limblessness. Simon asked how Joshua was able to propel himself on his skateboard and learned that it was propelled by a small electric motor. Alec was fascinated by Joshua’s description of his utter legless condition with minimal stumps and naturally enough experienced a powerful erection which tented his kilt under the table and was easily visible to any onlooker.

 

There would be no honeymoon. Neither Andy nor Alec thought it necessary, quite apart from the impracticality of travelling with their particular prostheses. Perhaps a day trip to the coast could be organised for the entire household.

 

The meal was finished and a suitable number of celebratory drinks were consumed. The four legless men were always aware of the risks involved in decreased attention. Their mobility required constant attention and concentration. Only Alec allowed himself the luxury of slight intoxication, enough to remove the anxiety he felt about his penis causing a scene. During an interlude when it had become somewhat flaccid, he suggested that the meal was over and that they should make their way back home.

 

The sight of four kilted men, two of them on crutches with solitary steel peg legs, attracted considerable attention among motorists and pedestrians going about their Saturday business. The amputees recognised their remarkable status and were grateful for it. Extreme limblessness was its own reward, a constant sensuous exhortation of non-existent limbs and rigidly encased stumps. Both Max and Alec would celebrate further that day as their companions’ stumps yearned for relief from frustration.

 

FRUSTRATION