Dream Meeting

 

 DREAM MEETING
She slowly and deliberately pivoted on her right foot, turned to face me andraised herleft leg, or rather the stump of what remained of her left leg.

This was the fourth time I'd seen her (in the parking lot by the shops whereI usuallygo for lunch). I had never had the opportunity to make a pass, but I hadlooked at herand followed her. I knew she'd noticed my interest, but until now had notindicatedmuch.

Waiting for a shop to open up, she was standing with the aid of longunderarmcrutches that were unusual because they had post hand grips, like fore-armcrutches. Itbeing a Saturday she was wearing casual clothes, rather than the businessuniform ofjacket and long dress together with an artificial leg, that I had seen herin previously.The snug pants showed a good set of hips and a lovely long right leg. On hersinglefoot she wore a strappy sandal, high-heeled with a small wooden platformsole, whichenhanced her ankle and lower calf in a very pleasing way.

What remained of her leg was now pointed directly toward me. The un-neededpart ofher pants was rolled up and cuffed just below the end of her cut off leg. Ithink shehad "amputated" part of the pant leg because the roll was not overly thick.I could seea lighter circle inside the short pant leg's cuff. That had to be the end ofher stump! Asthough to tease me she held the pose for at least half a minute, resting thestump onthe left hand-grip post. Smiling slightly she shifted position a little, andthen loweredthe short leg. After smoothing the cuff down around the end of her stump sheswung itforward and back a few times, like she was exercising it, or maybe showingit off?.

She looked up and smiled at me again.

Drawn like a moth to the flame, I went toward her; my heart in my mouth. Ihadabsolutely no idea what I was going to say.



"I thought you might like that," she said with a grin.



"Ye.. yes, I did. I thought it, I mean I .... "



"Iāve noticed you before, staring at me across the parking lot. With aspecial look. Notjust curiosity."



"Well, umm....., yes, I have. I, .. ah..."



"Because I'm a leg amputee." It was not a question.



"Yes!" The reply burst from my lips before I could stop it and I felt ablush reddeningmy cheeks.



"That's OK. I like directness. Why don't we have a drink?" she asked.



"Nothing could please me more, thereās a nice bar a little way down theroad. Wecould meet there for lunch".



"Iāve got a better idea. I know itās early but let's go to my place for thatdrink. Thereāsno time like the present, and if youāre half the man I think you might be Ibet youcould get me to show you what this looks like in the flesh," She noddeddown,twitched her trouser-clad stump and smiled.

We went back to her place, I drove behind her in my car. I followed her upthe walkand then the steps. I was enthralled by the sight of her lone leg swingingbetween thecrutch shafts and the sound of her single high heel tip-tapping on thepavement as italternated with the thump of the crutches. Glancing over her shoulder shecaught me,eyes firmly locked onto her uniquely shaped rear view and I blushed again.Shemoved ahead smoothly, easily and with purpose.

Reaching the front porch she handed me the key and I opened the door forher. Shesqueezed past me, deftly stepping sideways on those unusual crutches, andher stumpand breasts both brushed against me as she moved through to the hallway. Ihaddifficulty deciding which contact was the most erotic.

Going in to the living room she swung over to the couch and sat. "There'sstuff in thekitchen and ice in the fridge," she commented. "I like scotch."

I found the mixings and carried two scotches back into the living room. Shewassitting with her stump partly under her right thigh, her one shoe now lay,lookingoddly alone, on the floor. I handed her the drink and sat on a chair at theend of thesofa.



"Cheers," she said, taking a gulp.

She moved and brought her stump out from under her thigh. She twisted andpointedit toward me. I once again caught just a glimpse of the end of what remainedof theshort leg. After patting it she bounced the stump up and down vigorously,then rubbedit with her free hand. She massaged it very hard and I could see the shapechange asthe unseen flesh beneath the cloth moved under her fingers. She took anotherswallowof the drink.



"That's good. Massaging out the tension in my stump, I mean. At workyesterday Iwas walking on my limb all day and then I overdid things a bit last night atthe club.Would you like to do it for me?. Please?"

I knew she could see my erection when I went over to the sofa, but shedidn'tcomment. I sat and put my hands on her thigh, the thigh with no leg.Tentatively Ibegan to squeeze it and move my hands along it. Up high, it felt like aleg's thigh,which, as always, was nice. But the thrill was in the fact that it was not aleg's thigh. Itwas only a thigh and as complete now as it would ever be. There was no leg!I washandling the stump of her amputated leg!

My hand was on the inside of her abbreviated leg when she squeezed her fullandshort thighs together with surprising strength, trapping my hand for a fewseconds,before releasing it and gently stroking my fore-arm with the unexpectedlyagilestump.

She unfastened the belt and unbuttoned her pants. "Would you pull these downplease?. Youāll be able to massage it better that way", she whispered. Itsounded asthough she were getting excited. But I presumed she was only trying to add alittleintimacy so I would not be too embarrassed. I pulled the pants down enoughfor herhitch the short thigh up and bare her stump. Barely able to believe my luck,I ran myhands gently down its length. At the top, where it emerged from her panties,was aring of slightly hardened skin which I guessed was caused by the artificialleg I hadseen her walking with on weekdays. Gently I ran my hands all the way down totheplace where there was no more thigh. With both hands I cradled the new endof herleg. I lovingly rubbed it.



"Oh, that really does feel good." Again the husky whisper and the halfclosed eyes.I, however, had my eyes fully open. I was mesmerized by the sight and feelof thismost special thing. I watched the soft, warm flesh move beneath my hands. Igentlyran a finger along the scars at the very end and slightly round underneaththe back ofthe stump. I cupped the end, the actual point where her leg now ended andhad beenreshaped. Slowly I massaged it. Massaging and moulding the scarred flesh inmyhands I could feel the end of the severed bone trembling through thereconfiguredmuscles and tissue.

I bent my head and used my mouth. The sensations got better and better. Ibecameeven more excited when she put her hand on my head and drew my mouth downtighter against her stump.



"Oh, God. That feels sooo good!" Her eyes were half closed when shewhispered,

"Let's go to bed."

She rose and balanced on her one leg and pulled her pants up. I followed asshequickly hopped to the bedroom, kicking and flicking her stump about to helpbalance.After tidying away some clothes and an artificial leg which was lying on thebed, shesat on the end and finished undressing. She pulled back the covers andflopped back,leg and stump spread slightly. I moved on top of her, fondled and kissed herbreastsand then moved down. She was warm and moist. Her sweet aroma added to mypassion. I lifted her stump and moved it out slightly, and, cradling the endin my hand,I began to eat her. She moaned and writhed. Her motions and cries of delightincreased the more I handled her legless thigh. She was nearly frantic.



"Please make love to me!" It was nearly a command. I obeyed.....



"Might we go to dinner?" she asked later, after we'd napped. "I could wearsomethingnice and afterwards we could come back here and start all over. And finishin bed.Again. If you like!"

I could barely answer, but I did manage to say, yes, and that I'd be back topick her upin a couple of hours.

She hopped with me to the door. As we kissed she raised her stump. With itāsbluntend she nudged me just below my belt. If I had had the energy I would havenudgedher back.



"See you at seven," she smiled. "I'll be ready .... and looking forward toit!"

Driving home, showering and returning to her place, I was filled withanticipation andwonder. I actually had a date with an amputee..... a leg amputee ... anabove kneeone-legged amputee...had actually held and kissed her stump .... was goingto dinner with her .... and was then going to ....



"Come on in," she called in response to my ring.

I entered, and she called from the bedroom, "I'll be there in a sec."

Three minutes later she came through the doorway. I could hardly believe myeyes.Her shoulder length hair was simply done. It fell around her face in easywaves. Herwell-fitting blouse was long-sleeved. The darts at waist and chest did themost for herwell-shaped upper body. It was silk, a light cream color. The tan, woolskirt was verytailored. It wasn't severe, but it had no pleats and fitted her hips andthighs snugly,without a wrinkle. The close fit made it seem as though there was no suddenend toher left leg, just a narrowing from her hips through her thighs down to asingle legemerging naturally from the end. It was hemmed just above her knee, or justbelowher stump, depending on which way you looked at it, and the tailoring wouldhavemade it very difficult to walk in if she still had two legs.

Her crutches, obviously custom made, were of a dark brown wood with a hintof red.The right one had a built-in leather purse just below the handle. The paddedsaddlesappeared to be a bit too high. They reached well up into her armpits andseemed topush her breasts together.

Like the rest of her outfit, her jewelry was simple and 'clean'. Her make-upwasstraightforward, understated.

The single shoe on which she stood was a pump of the simplest design. Thedarkbrown kid had the soft gleam of fine leather, and the finish was smooth,with novisible seams, folds or accents. But it was far from an ordinary shoe.

Other than in certain magazine pictures, it was the steepest, highest shoeI'd ever seen.

(Platform--1"; heel--nearly 7": I held and touched that beautiful shoelater, caressedthe supple leather and stroked itās hard heel). The soaring, slender heelwasspectacular; it held her foot nearly vertical and caused the muscles in hercalf to bulgeand ripple with the effort of balancing in it.



"You look fantastic!" I gasped.



"Thank you," she smiled. "Glad you like it", making it plain that she knew Imeant Īitāincluded both her outfit and accessories and her single leg with itāsaccessories!. ćJustgive me a moment to get used to this shoe. Itās new and I havenāt worn itwith thesecrutches beforeä.

She swung past me and walked the length of the room with the intrigueinggait of aone-legger on crutches. Due to their height she only had to move thecrutchesoutwards in a very small arc as she moved them forward, and then gracefullyswungthe leg up between them. The slightly muffled thump of the rubber crutchtipsalternating with the harder single footfall of that great heel made aninterestingcontrasting rhythm. Because of the height of the crutches she had to bendher oneknee by only the very slightest amount as she swung her leg smoothlythrough, andher lone foot struck the floor directly beneath the center of her hips.

Viewed from the rear she was all the more spectacular. The heel stoodperpendicularto the floor, as did her foot, held firm in the tight leather confines ofthat beatifulshoe. Her ankle tilted slightly to the right and the lower leg angledoutward, as didwhat little of her thigh I could see as her one leg reached up toward itship. Themuscles in her calf flexed and stood out as she walked. The narrow skirtclung to herthighs and framed her bum beautifully. I could only vaguely make out wherethe endof her stump was. She seemed to hold it still against her full leg as shecrutchedaround the room, and the effect of her thighs moving together seemed toincrease herone-leggedness.

At the far wall, showing off her skill on the crutches, she leaned forwardslightly,pushed briefly in opposite directions with her crutches and spun round toface me,balanced on the sole of that one high erotic shoe. She stood for a moment,takingmost of her weight on the crutches, and rocked her lone foot back and forthon itāsgreat heel. I was lost in fascination and admiration for this woman who wasshowingme what had previously only been in my fantasasies.

Sounds like gunshots jerked me back to reality, as, with two little stampsof that shoeon the wooden floor, she punctuated the moment and said "Let's go". Like apuppy Ifollowed her out as she fluidly swung out of the house, seeming to defygravityfloating swiftly and easily along on just that shoe and the crutches.

Getting into the car she again showed herself off to me by allowing theskirt to ride upand display a quick view of her stump, clad in a specially tailored silkstocking as sheswung her leg in. After I stowed her, (surprisingly light), crutches and gotin, shecarefully smoothed the skirt down over the end of her amputated leg and thenreachedfor my hand. She led my fingers to where her thigh now ended. For the restof the trip,I kept moving my fingers on her skirt, slowly gently and lovingly caressingthe end ofher stump.

Getting out of the car and going through the bar and into the dining room,we (she)attracted a great deal of attention. She was an extremely attractive woman.She wasblatantly one-legged. The combination of the two characteristics was moredevastingthan either of the components. I was thrilled by this. It was as though sherevelled inher unique beauty and the fact that she made them all jealous of me.

During our first drink she commented on how I had visibly reacted to thelooks wegot. She said she was used to it now, but did it bother me? It certainly didnot, and Isaid so.

She began to talk about herself. Her leg had been amputated 12 years before,whenshe was 18, the ĪBig Cā. After the shock of the surgery and chemotherapy,therehabilitation and re-learning to walk on an artificial leg began. At first,going out inpublic with the temporary peg-leg, she had found it difficult to believeanyone wouldever find her attractive again.

After getting her proper limb she had at first only dated men who she wasconvincedwere interested in and drawn to her in spite of her loss, men who found herbeingone-legged merely 'acceptable'. For various reasons, this hadn't worked outvery wellafter she let them get past Īfirst baseā. She then began to date men whowereobviously interested in the fact that she was one-legged ("like you"). Ifthe guy wasinteresting, and became interested in her as a person she continued to datehim, if not,she stopped.

Also, she discovered that on occasion she liked the attention her one legand itsaccompanying stump attracted. She liked getting dressed up, wearing stylishoroutrageous clothes and a very high heel with her crutches or a peg-leg.There weretimes when she enjoyed flaunting her limb deficiency, when she wanted toshow offthe beaty of her lone leg.



"I'm not an exhibitionist all the time," she said. "Most of the time I useone of myartificial limbs, my Īprosthetic palsā as I call them, with low shoes. Or,if it's crutches,a normal shoe and casual, not too revealing clothes.



"But not tonight," she continued. "Tonight I want to flaunt myself as anamputee. Iwant to enjoy it. I wore this outfit, especially the shoe, because itaccentuates mymissing leg and flatters the leg I still have. That is a turn-on not only tome but tothose who see me. I think you're the perfect partner. I know you'reattracted to melargely because of my stump, not only it specifically, but what itrepresents.

I was about to answer, but she went on, "And that's great, because when I'min thesemoods that's just what I want; someone who is aroused by my body, myone-leggedbody. How it looks. How it feels. You can get to appreciate the real melater. TonightI want you to desire my body, to want to pamper me, pet me and make love tome, butmainly I want you to lust for my stump as an eroginous zone for both of us.



"I want to turn you on because I'm an amputee, and not in spite of the factthat I onlyhave a stump beside my leg," she went on. "I want to hop around for youwithoutcrutches. I want to wear a super high heel with one of my peg-legs, and showoff theway it makes me limp as I peg about for you. I want to excite you with mybody, itslooks, feels and tastes. I want you to want to love my short leg. I want tofeel specialand unique because I'm one-leggedä.

Her candid comments were exciting. Her use of the words "amputee", "stump",

"shortleg", ćpeg-legä, "crutches", "one leg", "shoe", "hop", "scar" , etc. wasvery thrilling. Iliked hearing her talk about it. I nodded full attention.



"About my stump," she said. "It's funny, but I think of it as, Īitā. Like,

Īit's coldā or,

Īit'sā tired or, whatever. I don't know why, because Īitā certainly is partof me. Mystump has feeling and feelings (sometimes too much). There are functioningmusclesand I can do things with my stump. I mean, my short leg is alive andfunctional andstill part of me. When I talk about one of my peg-legs or my Īprostheticpalsā, Iusually call it ĪMyā peg-leg or ĪMyā artificial limb, like itās a directpart of me ratherthan a strap-on accessory. So why, I wonder do I use the term Īitā whenreferring tomy own flesh and blood stump?ä

She talked about using her stump and how it felt walking with the variousartificialattachments. To try and explain how the limbs suction socket felt she askedme toimagine wearing a tight fitting leather lined shoe or boot without socks.

ćAfter Iāvepushed the stump in and pulled out the nylon Īdonning stockingā the stumpsettles alittle in the cold socket and Iām really aware of the plastic as it warmsup. After awhile I stop consciously thinking about the socket as a seperate thing thatIāve put thestump into. It just becomes another part of the stump that transfers the

Īfeelingāofwhat Iām doing with the limb or peg up to what remains of my leg. If the legis firmlyplanted on the ground and I turn my body, I can feel the remains of my thighbonestart to turn while the skin and flesh of the stump stay stuck to the socketby thevacuum, and if I stand with the foot off the floor I feel the weight of thelimb draggingdown on the flesh not the thigh bone, which felt weird to start withä

Explaining about walking she went on,ćApart from exercising regularly tokeep ittrim and the same size to fit the sockets, I need to keep up the stumpsstrength. If itwasnāt strong then the stump wouldnāt be able to handle a limb or a peg.They bothneed good muscle strength to work correctly. I need to be able to kick thestumpabout quite hard if Iām walking around Īnormallyā at work. A big kick to getthe limbmoving when I step forwards with it, and a smaller one backwards tostraighten theleg before I place my weight down on it. Most limbs have spring or hydraulicassistance, but you always need to work to get the leg walking at your speedratherthan itās own natural speed.

A peg-leg is lighter and a lot easier to walk on, itās a shame it attractsso muchattention when I use one in the summer. When itās too hot for trousers orjeans Ioccasionaly wear a skirt, but itās embarrassing if I want to wear shorts ora mini-skirtbecause of all the stares I get. If Iām in a show-off mood then itās fun toshock andattract people by displaying the whole peg and socket, but most of the timeIād justlike to have the comfort and ease of walking on the peg and to blend in withthecrowdä.

She was obviously enjoying talking openly with me about her stump and limbs,andwent on; ćEveryone at work knows Iām an amputee but I always use a Īprettyāarticulated limb at the office and try to appear as normal as possible. WhenI firststarted this job everyone was intrigued by it to start with, and I got askedlots ofquestions, but now you could say that my wooden leg is part of thefurniture!!ä.We both laughed easily at that. ćProvided I donāt overdo things like I didyesterdaymy various limbs do a fairly good job of substituting for my missing leg,theyāre allquite heavy but the sockets have all been adjusted over the years so theyare reallyfairly comfortable to wear all week. Of course a normal walking limb willonly take a

2ä or so heel before it starts to become unstable, so lovely shoes like thisstay athomeä, she said with a slight pout, switching to a grin as she ran the heelup the insideof my calf. ćWhen Iām walking around at home, or when Iām in anexhibitionistmood, I find one of my peg-legs much more fun as well as being faster andeasier onthe stumpä.

Getting into her Īstrideā on the subject, so to speak, she went on; ćTheyārea lotlighter, plus they allow me an almost unlimited choice of heels if I screwon anappropriate extension Īfootā section to match the heel height. The suctionsockets arethe same as my everyday limbs, but being light and rigid the pegs feel muchmorepositive on the stump. That security is worth it even if my walking gait onone is a bitless normal. I get a much better sense of where the peg-tip is placedtransmitted upthrough the solid shaft to my stump. They also take less effort to walk on,as a smallermovement of the stump still has the same effect down at the end "Before I could respond, she said, "Let's go home, and I can show 'it' off.You canexcite 'it'. And me."

===============We sat together on the couch and enjoyed brandy.



"You relax, have another if you want while I change into something else. Iāmgoing togive you a one-legged one-woman fashion show!"

I took off my coat and shoes. Another drink sounded good, and I was justbeginningon it when she reappeared.

The first outfit was fairly conventional, consisting of a burgundy leathershirt-jacketand jeans tucked into a knee high pull-on boot of deep red leather with achunky 4inch stack heel, tight round the calf but gathered in soft sensuous foldsround herankle. The elbow crutches she was using were a matching red satin finishaluminium.What made the casual clothes sensational on her was the fact that theskin-tight jeanshad been made with only one leg. Normal tight fitting waist and bum werecleverlytailored down to just one trouser leg which fitted tightly round her fullleg and theshortened thigh, narrowing down still further after the left leg endedbeforedisappearing into the soft folds of the leather boot. Even the boot wasspecial in that itwas styled so that it wasnāt obviously for a right foot, being equallyrounded on bothsides of the toes, with the heel set and shaped centrally as well.

Swinging that single booted leg so sexily between those crutches she paradedhermonopede beauty back and forth before me, finally coming to a halt in frontof meand briefly raising her foot up onto the couch between my legs. Always asucker for awoman wearing jeans tucked into high boots, I couldnāt resist running myhands upand down her leg, following the jeans, tight on her thighs, down until oneof themended, and then on down the soft leather of the boot. Her arms started toquiver withthe strain of holding herself like up that, so she placed her booted footback down onthe floor and swung back out to the bedroom.

When she returned she had on a long, satin robe. It was belted at the waistandreached to her ankle. The glistening material shimmered where it touched herbody.Her lone foot was shod in a high-heeled bedroom slipper. She was using slimdarkfinish metal crutches. The style of the robe made them sensational.

The robe had very full sleeves which were also quite long. The loose sleevescompletely covered her hands as well as the crutch's handles. It was asthough thealuminum shafts were part of her arms. Her elbows did not bend that I couldsee. Shewould rise up the little amount the high heeled slipper allowed and swingher armsstiffly forward together. It was as if two peg-like crutches were extendingdown fromhandless arms.

She stopped in the center of the room and placed her bizarre looking

Īcrutch-armsāslightly forward of her one foot. She smiled. Slowly, ever so slowly, shemoved herstump. The robe parted and the blunt end appeared. Then more and more of herlegless thigh came into view. The gleaming satin fell to the side as hershortened coneof thigh moved up and out. When it was sticking straight out she moved itfrom sideto side.



"Please use your mouth on it," she whispered.

I savored the sight as I went to her on hands and knees. Her robe nearlycovered herfoot. All that was to be seen of her was the out- thrust stump that pokedthrough softsatin. I took it in my hands and licked the end. I began kissing it allover.



"Yes. YES. Love it. It wants to be loved." She was panting. "Feel and petit. Nibblethe end a little, please."

The warm soft stump was delicious, and I licked and sucked it like a pieceof candy.In what seemed to me too short a time, she murmured, "I'm beginning to feelmyspecial feeling." She lowered her stump and said, "I'll put on somethingdifferent,now. For both of us to enjoy."

When she returned she wore a black silk shirt and loose silk pants, also inblack. Shewas using aluminium underarm crutches. The pants were very long and only thecurved block rubber-soled Īfootā and two inches of the thin bright metalshaft of apeg-leg showed. It seemed the functional style of the peg was meant to beworn undertrousers, and the length was intended to match very high heeled footwear onher rightleg, and now, apparently shoe-less, nothing of her right foot or leg couldbe seen.

She moved carefully across the floor on crutches and the peg-leg, keepingthe unseenflesh and blood leg hanging straight down, un-moving and invisible all thetime. Asshe kicked the peg forwards the silk pants flowed back and draped round theshaft andsocket, outlining it in an very interesting way



"Makes it look like Iāve had another amputation in the ten minutes I was inthebedroom, and now I'm missing both legs, doesn't it?" she asked. "I learnedto do thisonce when I sprained my ankle, only then I wore a shorter skirt and mybandaged footstayed in sight. But I thought you might enjoy it more this way."

She slowly toured the room. Christ! She did look like a double amputee,using thosecrutches with the one peg-leg.

At the far end of the room she turned and rested back against the wall for amoment,breathing hard from the extra exertion of balancing and walking on just theone Īlegā.Pausing to catch her breath she smiled over at me and very slowly lifted thepeg-legup in the air in front of her. As her peg came up the soft folds of thesatin pantsdraped down over it again, clearly outlining the thin peg, the rudimentaryknee-release mechanism and the socket encasing her stump. Her right legremainedhidden, hanging unseen beneath the pant leg, and the illusion of her as acompletelylegless woman with a single slender metal shaft taking the place of twoflesh andblood limbs was perfect.

I thought at the time what this crutch and peg routine with the long-sleevedrobewould be like. Her leg wouldn't show at all and the crutches appearing fromthesleeves with no hands in sight would be even more striking. To allappearances shewould have none of her own limbs at all. She could pose and raise her rightleg, withknee bent, and it look just like a stump when it poked the sleek satin intoa bulge. If Igot the courage I would ask her.

Next, she hopped into the room naked. She handed me two Ace bandages. "Bindmyarm. we're going to amputate it." She grinned at my reaction. "I'll tell youhow. You'lllike the effect, I bet."

She held her right arm to her side with her hand back between her buttocks.I tightlybound the arm to her body. At her direction, I used the elastic bandage tomake a bra,a bra which lifted and squeezed her breasts into an unnaturally high,thrusting shape.They were fantastic, especially when she hopped from the room.

She wore two outfits one-armed and one-legged. First was a well-fitted,short sleevedcocktail dress. Her breasts, in their 'special' bra were magnificent: thedress' materialwas straining to hold them back. The five-inch heeled, sling-back slipperwas darkbrown leather. and her peg-leg, of which I could see only a bit of themoulded andlaced-up leather stump bucket, was made of very deep brown stained wood.

The peg itself was quite thick, at least 3 inches in diameter, and below thebrass screwfitting the bottom extension section flared out to an oval shape, about 8inches long,with a curved bottom that looked very much like the sole unit of a platformshoe orboot. The polished wood finish of the peg had a low luster, and I couldclearly see thegrain.

She told me she usually wore that peg in public with trousers or a floorlength dress ifshe went out to a dinner-date, where the more direct feel and quickerresponse of thepeg made it easier for her to dance if she wanted to. It was designed sothat, to a quickglance, the flared wooden Īfootā unit could be mistaken for the sole unit ofa platformboot, (as I had suspected), and the thick wooden shaft, which was hollow forlightness, filled out the trouser leg a bit more than a slim metal shaftwould havedone. The large curved rubber covered foot unit gave excellent grip and madethe pegvery stable, so she really didnāt have to consciously think about how shewalked whenshe was wearing it.

The overall effect was of a stiff-kneed walk with the left leg, butotherwise fairlynormal, at least when seen from the front. The side view of course showed aheel onthe right boot and only the curved rocker Īfootā on the left, and as shemoved it thefabric of the trousers would hang around the shaft of the peg which wasthinner thanthe real leg beside it. The pluses far outweighed those two minus points asthe pegwas comfortable and stable, and with the right extension unit screwed on itlet herwear a very high shoe or boot with up to an 8 inch heel, which happened tobe theheight of one of her favorite Īposh-but-sexyā platform boots.

What made the outfit was the cape-like item that was part of the dress. Itcoveredmost of her shoulders and then fell down and back in deep pleats. The 'cape'completely covered all traces of her 'amputated' arm. The cape did not fullycover thedress' short sleeves. I could clearly see the arm-filled left sleeve, butthe right sleevesimply hung from her shoulder, empty. It dangled and jerked slightly whenshemoved. The way the dress was cut it really did look as if she had no arm inaddition tothe obviously missing leg.



"Looks real, doesn't it", she commented. "I don't know why, but I went outthis wayonce. God, What a sensation I was!"

With each left leg step she deliberately planted the peg-leg down muchharder thannecessary when she left the room, and the armless sleeve went wild.

She returned, using one crutch. The lose-fitting sweater was long sleevedand longwaisted. It hung nearly below her hips. There was no right sleeve: thesweater hadbeen knitted smooth at the shoulder. The dark yellow pants were of stretchmaterialand incredibly tight round her bum, thighs and knee. The tight-fitting kneehigh booton her right leg was brown suede and had a platform sole and a thinfive-inch wedgeheel. It was worn over the pant leg, which was slightly bloused above theboot's top.Her left pant leg was closely tailored to fit her stump. There was no hintof a seamaround the outer side of her stump, and it was tight, and I mean reallytight. It madeher legless thigh looked like an oversized, mustard colored bullet.

She would plant the crutch and then push off with her single leg and ridethe crutch,very much like a pole-vaulter. Her booted leg hit the floor with a goodjolt. When sheplanted the crutch for her next 'step' there was a similar shock. All duringthiscrutch-vaulting, she kept her stump in constant motion. She swung it aroundforbalance, which caused it to bounce and jerk with each Īstepā on the crutch,and restedthe stump against the crutch when she swung her leg forward.



"Which do you like better?" she asked. "I think this one is sexier and morefun, buteven I wouldn't go out fixed up like this. It's too awkward with just theone crutch,and pants this tight on the stump attract too much attention for comfort. IfI donātwant to use an articulated limb in public then the peg-leg outfit is betterfor comfortand safer for mobility, and with pants or a long skirt I donāt feel Īondisplayā toomuch. Of course here at home if I wear a running shoe I can do thiscrutch-hopbusiness pretty smoothly, really. Would you like to go out with me as adoubleamputee sometime?"

She jolted from the room before I could say, "YES!"

The next thing I knew she had hopped back into the roam with nothing on butthe Acebandage. She went quickly around the room, bouncing on her one leg. Bouncingwasnot the word for what her breasts did. Exaggerated in size and shape, theywentcompletely wild. The erect, pointing nipples were a blur as they twitchedandviolently jerked. I took just a moment to look at her stump and saw theflesh quiverwith each hop.



"Just a little treat," she laughed.

She returned on crutches, full length wooden ones with well padded softleathersaddles that were large enough to do nice things to her breasts, which wereheld up byan under-wired half-bra. The only other bit of attire was her shoe. It wasan eveningdress shoe held on with slender straps that wrapped round her calf nearly upto herknee. The four inch platform was transformed into an open framework by athree inchhole from side to side, and the eight-inch heel was a shiny gold.

She crutched into the room, made a round for my benefit and stopped in frontof me.Slouching forward with all her weight on the leather saddles of hercrutches, herbreasts reacted beautifully as she worked on her stump with both hands. Shethen satdown next to me and took hold of me. It was my turn and I petted her stumpas shehad just been doing.



"Odd as it may be, this, the outrageous dressing up I mean, really is fun.Fun andexciting. I don't do it often, but when I'm in the mood I love it. Also, ofcourse, I loveyour reactions".

She stroked me and licked my ear.



"I can see you think it's extraordinarily sexy; and I do too. Most girlslike to show offtheir stuff now and then. You know? Seduction clothes like half-bras andcrotchlesspanties, sheer night gowns and so forth. They like to turn their man on, tobe theobject of his desire and lust. And I do, too. But I can do so much morebecause Ihave this" -- she raised her stump and moved it in circles in the air. "Ihave my shortlittle stumpy-leg, and it can add so much fun to seductive dressing andplay. Damn! Iam having such a good time!."



"I ... ah .. well .. I have never enjoyed myself as much ... I mean, .. I'm

.. ah ...."



"I know," she interrupted and pushed up off the couch to stand, wobbling alittle onthat high shoe. Reaching down, I picked up the crutches and handed them toher,stroking each breast a little with the pads as I offered them up under herarms.

She swung over to the wall and leaned against it, positioned her crutchesand raisedher naked stump.



"Please use your mouth on me before I come back for the finale," she cooed.I yet again (Could I ever get too much? Answer; No!.) used mouth and handson herlovely stump. I squeezed its softness and felt the little stub of bonemoving beneaththe truncated thigh muscles. Holding it up to me, I ran my tongue along theshallowcrevasse of the scar. I licked it, and I licked and ate her.



"Dear God. Iāll never tire of this," she sighed. "I love the way you useyour mouth andhands on me and in me and, especially, on 'it'. I think youāve been the mostattentivelover of my stump Iāve ever enjoyed having. Use your teeth a little. I wantto come. Ineed to come. Please. Help me come! Make me come ... oh ... pleaseä.

Only the crutches held her when she came, because her leg nearly collapsedunderher, and she sagged down onto the sticks. She was panting and groaning andsuckingin deep draughts of air. All of her skin, even the stump, was covered in asheen ofperspiration.



"This will be the final scene," she said and went once again to the bedroom.

"Be backin no time."

Five minutes later, she was magnificent! Her breasts were held high. Theblackhalf-bra thrust them proudly forward. A single-sided garter belt, black ofcourse, heldup the single stocking which covered her one leg: It shimmered in the light.Theinevitable, high-heeled single piece of footwear was a boot this time. Anover theknee boot in well polished black leather, with hook and eye lace fastenersup thefront. Dainty, black panties, worn over the garters, completed her attire:except for thepeg-leg, of course.

I could now see only an outline of her stump because it was mostly coveredby thesmooth black carbon-fibre cone of the peg-leg's stump bucket. Her creamyflesh was astark contrast to the satin black of the bucket. The flesh of her thigh andbum bulgedout slightly over the socket at the top, where her bum bone bore most of herweight onthe rim of the socket. The bottom of the socket was finished off longer thanher stumpand was the same length as the full thigh beside it. It was rounded off atthe end, likethe end of her stump. The peg itself was a rich, dark ebony. It was slender,polished toa lustrous sheen, and ended with smaller than usual black rubber tip.

The show was spectacular! She limped around the room again and again,sometimesquickly, sometimes slowly. Pegging quickly, she almost made a little hop onher realleg as the peg moved through, whilst with a slow walk she hitched her hip upbit toraise the peg so that the tip didnāt catch on the carpet. Her breastsquivered in theirlittle bra with every step of leg or peg. When the peg hit the floor aripple of shockwas visible running through every part of her. She really was enjoyingherself. I wascertainly enjoying myself. As much as her peg-leg, the beautiful bootaccounted forher limping gait. The tremendous heel was at least nine inches tall. Thecurvedplatform sole about four or five inches. It was a very high, very steepboot.

As she pegged around her breasts bounced and made little jerking movementswitheach solid planting down of the peg-leg and step with ultra-high boot. Whenshe stoodstill it seemed the peg-leg was made a little bit short, since her right hipwas lowerthan her left. I assumed this was because she could only rise up a littlebit on theplatform toe of the boot due to its steepness, and she didn't want to tripon her peg-legas she kicked it through in an arc when she walked. (She later told me thatthis wasexactly right).

As she proudly went round the room she used different styles of walk. Shetook shortcareful steps and then longer more vigorous strides, taking a longer pacewith the peg.She pivoted on the peg-leg, then on the platformed boot. She stood still,gentlymoving for balance. She posed holding on to a chair back, standing on herpeg-legalone, her booted right foot resting on a low table. At one point she tooktwo veryshort, quick hops with the peg-leg held out slightly in front of her. Atlast she cameover and stood facing me. Her hands were on her hips in a challenging pose.Likebefore, she kept moving her foot for balance, and I commented on it.



"As long as I'm walking or moving it's not too hard. But just standing stillis a bit of abalance problem. This boot is really well stiffened to hold the heel steadyand supportmy ankle. I canāt afford to sprain or break it, itās the only one Iāve

got!!ä. We bothlaughed. ćBecause of the heel and platform height and the stiffening, Iāvegot hardlyany ankle movement and this small peg tip doesn't give me much help withbalancing.The only stable way to stand still is with my leg and peg apart, and the pegplacedslightly forwards, which isnāt very delicate looking, so itās easier to keepmoving a bitall the time."

The combination of limbs was stunning: one was a lovely, nylon-clad andbooted realleg, gracefully bending at the knee and bent at the ankle; the other wasobvioudsly asubstitute leg. A straight shaft of wood, fastened to a cone-shaped affairwhich bothcovered and extended the stump where her leg no longer was. A stiff peg-leg,lookingfantastically long, rigidly swinging from her left hip. The stark contrastmade each allthe better.



"I'm nearly undressed," she said. "Why don't you take your clothes off?

I did.



"I can see you're not bored," she laughed.

The hard sole and heel of the boot and the rubber tip of the peg beat a nowfamiliarclonk and thump tatoo on the floorboards as she pegged over to the book caseat theside of the fireplace and held on to a shelf with one hand. With the othershe pushedher panties down to just below the stump bucket, then put both hands on theshelf.She wiggled her leg, and the panties slid down to the toe of her boot.Standing withall her weight on the peg she eased the toe out of the panties and liftedher boot clear.She then deftly flipped the panties half way across the room with a swiftkick of herpeg-leg, quickly thumping it back down on the floor before she lost herbalance. Itwas fascinating when she moved the peg-leg about quickly as it respondedinstantly tothe smallest twitch of her stump, and a little move of the short thighbecame asweeping arc down at the tip of the peg.

Pegging over to and steadying herself on the side of the sofa, she raisedherblack-booted leg up and rested it on the end of the coffee table. The tip ofher peg-legdug deeper into the carpet. She squirmed slightly, rocking her hips andleaning backand forth on the peg, as though getting her stump more comfortable in itāssleek blacksocket.



"Please use your mouth on me." It was soft sigh.

I went to her on hands and knees. I raised my mouth and licked and kissedthe bulgeof flesh above her stump bucket. It was soft and warm. I ran one hand downthelength of her lovely nyloned leg and over the leather boot and its fantasticheel, whilstthe other traced down the un-feeling thigh stump socket and then on down theneverending shaft of the peg itself. I drew my tongue across the exposed bulgeabove hershort thigh again before licking between her legs.

I was greeted by a warm moistness which I increased by licking and sucking.With myhands on her hips, I buried my face in her. She began to move her hips, herpropped-up leg began to move and quiver. I probed deeper and deeper with mytongue.



"Oh, dear God. That feels so good. I love it!" She was breathing deeply: itwas realthis time, no question. "Please do it faster and harder. Please!"

In addition to doing it "faster and harder", I brought a hand from behindher and beganto play with her. She started groaning. I used my finger, tongue and mouthfranticallyand before too long, she came. I could feel her entire body shudder, herinnardstwitched and she let forth with a series of "Oh's" and "Ah's" that weregraphic.

I stood and kissed her mouth and breasts. When she took hold of me I thoughtI wouldnot be able to hold off a climax.I moved away.



"I want to prolong it," I said lamely.



"Oh yes. So do I," she smiled. "You stand, and I'll eat you. Gently."

She put her boot on the floor and lifted her peg. A half-turn and the pegshaft camefree of the stump socket, and she gently probed it up and down between my thighsbefore dropping it. She lowered herself down to the floor and came to me,kneeling,walking easily now on her one knee and the equal length end of her stumpbucket.

Without hesitation, she took my erection full in her mouth. She clamped herlips onme and began to move her head back and forth. I could feel the back of herthroatwith each movement. She used her hands on me, gently feeling and excitingme.I felt the climax coming, but I couldn't stop it (I was to the point where Ididn't wantto stop it). Like she had done before, I shuddered, nearly convulsed andcried out withpleasure/desire.

I regained my breath and stumbled to the couch: she followed, still on her

"knees",and rested her head on my thigh.



"I suppose to many I would look foolish, ridiculous, even objectionable. ButI get athrill out of dressing like this. I feel ultra feminine, ultra vulnerable,and I get ultrahorny. And it's so much better when I can share it with someone." She smiledup atme. "Let's rest a while and start all over."

She gently handled me, and I stroked her hair. I was surprised at howrapidly Irecovered.



"There's a pair of black crutches in my closet," she said.

When I returned with the full-length crutches she was standing up againstthe wall.She took the sticks and crutched the length of the room. On her return, shestoppedand planted the crutches well in front of her one leg.



"Why don't you take off my bra and release my little stubby from this stumpbucket?"she asked.

I undid her bra, dropped it on the floor and kissed her breasts. I pushedthe releasevalve on the bucket and eased it down off her stump. (The bucket had aspecialslightly flexible plastic liner; her stump was not bandaged.) Bringing thebucket up tomy face, I took a deep breath and savoured the odours left in the socket byitās recentbeatiful occupant. A combination of talcum powder, surgical spirit andperfume tokeep the socket hygenic, and over these smells the sweat from the exertionsof herstump, kicking and thrusting the peg-leg as she had been walking on it.

I licked her stump. It was warm and still slightly moist with the sweat thathadnātevaporated because of the snug plastic liner of the stump bucket which hadsorecently enclosed it.

I massaged it. I carressed it. I kissed it.

It quivered and trembled in response to my attentions.

She was now clad in the one-sided garter belt, one nylon and one super-high-heeledboot. Her one remaining leg was dressed, but her erotic zones: crotch,breasts andstump, were naked, ready for me to love.

She crutched to the end of the room and pivoted on the tall platform of herhigh-heeled boot. As she returned, I marveled at how the crutches affectedherbreasts. They bulged and pooched with each stride. She swung her stumpthroughwith each pace on the crutches, bringing it forward more than necessary, asthoughshe was still carrying a leg on the end of it. The sight of it twitchingthere in mid-airprovoked a sympathetic twitch below my waist.



"I feel anything but disabled," she stated. "Honestly, I feel sexy andfeminine anddesirable with this changed body of mine." To point up this statement sherubbed herstump up and down her full thigh.



"I couldn't agree more," I smiled. It was the truth.

She came to where I was sitting on a chair and moved over my thigh. I tookthecrutches. She put her hands on my shoulders and half lowered herself asthough to sitbetween my legs, standing her stump on my thigh. I took a breast in mymouth, andshe began to ooch back and forth. Her stump slipped a little down my leg.The bootedcalf was upright, her full thigh parallel to the floor. As she straddled myleg, still halfstanding, I could feel the difference between her bare stump and thenylon-clad rightthigh. Both felt very nice!

I could feel the warm, moist lips between her thighs as they moved on myleg. Sheincreased her movements as I sucked and squeezed her breasts. Before longshe wasbucking. She abruptly raised her booted foot and let all her weight come tobear onmy leg.

I flexed my ankle, raising my thigh, and she let out a cry of delight.



"Bounce me. Please bounce your leg," she begged. "I want to come again. Iwant tocome once more before we go to bed."

I drew in on the pulsing breast in my mouth and frantically moved my leg.She, slackleg and stump hanging down and wildly jerking, drove her pussy onto mythigh. Shehad her belly forward trying to get more. I used my hand on her. That didthe trick:she exploded with screams of delight.



"Help me hop to the bedroom," she asked when we'd recovered. "I want to doit inbed. With my lovely boot on. Oh, God, how I want you to make love to me. Iwant itso bad!"

With her arm around my shoulders and mine around her waist, we proceeded toherbed. Her hops were short and very abrupt. Her breasts and stump quivered andbounced. Her nipples remained hard.

She sprawled on the bed, leather booted leg and naked stump spread slightly.



"Please play with my stump," she murmured. "And please fuck me!"

I squeezed and sucked the beautiful little nine inch stump of her leg. Thesoftflesh yielded beneath my fingers and open mouth. With a hand still on theend of herabreviated thigh, I mounted her. She spread her thighs and guided me in. Idrove fullthe first time. She responded with a deep moan and encircled me with herbooted leg.I could feel the heel poking my back. She was hot and wet. She was wild withdesire,as was I.



"I'm glad your legs gone," I said rashly as I squeezed her stump. I wascoming.



"So am I. It's true. At times like this, so am I. There is nothing likebeing one-legged.Nothing like having a stump. Nothing!"

She barely got the words out before she screamed with pleasure.



"I'm still in the mood", she said the next morning, with her hand in mygroin and herstump resting across my legs. "If we went out again, I could wear my singleleg jeansand a taller over-the-knee boot, or a short cocktail dress with a differentpeg-leg. Oryou could 'amputate' my arm, and I could wear a caped leather dress. Andlater wecould ....

Would you like to do that?"

I had no trouble coming up with the answer.