All In The Family

                           (C) 1994 R. W. Smith



Missy was home for the summer between her sophomore and junior year at

college. As part of the divorce agreement with my wife, it was agreed that

she would spend summers with me to reduce expenses. Being 19, and a

student, had its advantages, not the least of which was very little

responsibility and a lot of freedom.



It was a nondescript Thursday. Not much had been happening in my life,

especially my love life. I hadn't met any of the special women that I so

enjoy... those women that ultimately led to my wife's leaving me 2 years

ago. I came home from work at lunch time, expecting to check the mail, grab

a bite to eat, and return to work. The mail wasn't in the box. Missy must

have already brought it in. As I entered the house, I heard rustling in

another room. Yes, Missy was home. I proceeded to the den, where the mail

was already laying out waiting for me.



"Thank you for bringing in the mail, Missy", I called



"You're Welcome Dad", she answered from the kitchen.



I suddenly became aware of a distantly familiar sound. A single tap of a

heel and the thud of crutches. Perplexed, I turned and walked into the

living room. Standing in front of me was a beautiful young woman, 5'6",

blonde hair and blue eyes, dressed nicely in a blouse and a full skirt,

with just her right leg protruding from its below the knee hemline,

balanced on a single 2" heel, with a pair of aluminum underarm crutches

tucked neatly under her luscious and strong arms.



"Hello, Mr. Smith. I am Lisa, Missy's roommate from college."



"Pleased to meet you Lisa."



Missy appeared from the kitchen. "Hi Dad. I see you have met Lisa."



"Yes. We've just been introduced," I said, sitting down in my easy chair

trying to conceal my obvious excitement. Lisa and Missy sat on the couch

across from me. Needless to say, I was having a difficult time making eye

contact with either one of them, given the continual straying of my eyes to

Lisa's lovely left "short side". It appeared to me that she had a rather

long stump remaining of her left leg, though it was difficult to tell. The

conversation went on for about 15 minutes. What was said, I do not recall.

I only knew that I wanted to get to know this lovely girl much better. But,

she was my daughter's age!



I needed to get back to the office. I stood to say goodbye. Lisa arose from

the couch gracefully, took a single hop forward on her strong, well shaped

right leg. She offered her hand and said "Goodbye". I shook her hand,

trying not to linger too long, and left for work. On the way out the door,

I noticed a pair of forearm crutches and a single shoe over by the fake

ficus tree in the dining room. God, would I have loved to see her on her

Canadians. Maybe I would get the chance. Needless to say, not much work got

done at the office that afternoon.



That evening, over dinner, I asked Missy about her friend Lisa. They had

been roommates for the least two years in college. Eventually, I got around

to asking about her leg. Missy looked uncomfortable and evasive and told me

she had "been that way for a while now". Sensing something uncomfortable,

the old worry came upon me. Was Missy aware of my interest? Had my ex-wife

told her about it? Or about our activities? Or had she discovered something

while she was growing up? I had always done my best to hide all material,

but then....



I stopped by the house over lunch more often, but for the next several

weeks, Lisa was never there. I asked Missy why she didn't invite Lisa over

for dinner, but Missy always had some excuse. I knew they went out together

in the evenings, cruising the bars, but Missy always went to Lisa's house

to pick her up. I knew it, darn it. One, or both of them, had detected my

interest.



Finally, one evening, when I came home from work, Missy told me that Lisa

was coming over to pick her up to go out. I must have broken out in a cold

sweat because Missy smiled coyly at me as she announced this. I told her I

was going up to work on some files I had brought home on the computer in my

bedroom. In reality, I had to do something to relieve the sense of

anticipation I had at the upcoming, albeit potentially brief visit. Missy

said she would cook dinner and I hit the stairs and disappeared for the

better part of the next hour.



Missy called to me that dinner was ready. I composed myself and went down

to the dining room. Missy was already seated at the table eating.



"Where are you guys going tonight?", I asked.



"To Planet Hollywood, and then, who knows?", Missy responded.



"When will Lisa be here?"



"Any minute, I presume"



Not much was said over the next several minutes. It seemed like Missy

wanted to tell me something, but nothing was forthcoming. I was so shaken

with anticipation that I could barely eat and I cannot, to this day,

remember what we were eating at the time. We sat in relative silence.



The doorbell rang. I began to push back my chair to answer the door when

Missy said, "I'll get it". Yes, maybe better that way. I scooted my chair

back to the table. Missy pushed her chair back, and stood.



Bending over, she retrieved a pair of black anodized Canadian crutches from

the floor under the table, slipped her arms in them and strutted out on

them on only her left leg, the right one expertly hidden under her full

skirt, as if nothing particularly special were going on. I was frozen in

shock. I could barely breathe. This was certainly something I never

anticipated. Here was my own daughter, who normally had two rather nice

looking legs, appearing so apparently one legged, in a nice dress, dark

stocking, and single 2 and 1/2 inch heel. Had my anticipation of Lisa

gotten the better of me? Was I now hallucinating? It seemed it was time

that I should get help with this attraction of mine. I was imagining my own

two legged daughter to have but one leg. But, on closer inspection, and a

second stare, mouth gaping open and gasping for air, she did appear like

she was an amputee. Not since her mother left me had I seen someone

simulate, and certainly never so well.



She swung out of the dining room and easily up the two short steps to the

front door of the house. Reaching forward, balanced on her single leg, with

her crutch gently hanging from her forearm, she opened the door.



"Hi Lisa !"



"Hi Missy. Oh, I see you must have told him. How'd he take it?"

"No, I didn't. I guess I just now sort of sprung it on him by surprise. If

he hasn't had a heart attack, I think we'll still find him sitting at the

dining room table in shock."



Indeed I was. Staring at the two of them. Lisa with her single right leg

clad in fishnet hose and a short ankle high boot with a full, knee length

skirt, using silver Canadians, and Missy, with her full taffeta skirted

dress, dressed to kill with only a left leg using black Canadians. They

approached, both gliding smoothly along, as I stared uncontrollably.



"Missy?" I managed to choke out.



"Dad, we have to talk", she said.



We went into the living room and all sat down. The discussion began.



"Dad, you need to know about Lisa and me. We both like pretending to be

amputees."



"But,... uh..." Staring at Lisa's "stump" I now realized that it was long

and full within her skirt. Still, I felt I might be being fooled. She was

expert on the crutches, but then, so was Missy. Certainly the two of them

were more expert at moving about on crutches than even my ex-wife, who

played the role quite a bit for me over the years.



"Yes, Dad, Lisa is not a real amputee either, though I think she really

fooled you a few weeks ago, and you shouldn't have been someone easily

fooled."



"What do you mean, Missy?"



"I know about you and your interest, Dad. When I was just a little kid, I

saw Mom pretending to be one legged in the backyard from my bedroom window

after you guys thought I had gone to sleep. Several times using crutches

and once with a wooden peg leg that you guys kept in your closet. I never

did understand, and thought is was just a grownup thing to play around or

something. Still, I had feelings myself. Last summer, when I was home here

with you, you left a video in the VCR. I ended up watching it and learning

everything about amputee attraction from the woman who narrated it. I

couldn't really approach you about it, so I asked Mom, and she told me

everything about it, how you had her dress up and pretend, and how it led

to your breakup with her, eventually. I didn't tell mom, but I had always

secretly had a fantasy about being an amputee."



"Great....", I managed to say, heart pounding a thousand times a minute. My

ex-wife was the only person, other than some fellow devotees with whom I

corresponded, who knew that I had this proclivity; well, maybe not anymore.



"Mr. Smith," Lisa chimed in, " my mother is a real amputee. She landed my

Dad after she lost her leg, and he is a guy, like you, who appreciates the

difference. I guess growing up with her almost always on crutches and

knowing that there were guys like my dad made me feel a little jealous of

the attention."



And so, I heard the rest. Lisa and Missy had shared this little relevant

fact about their fathers while drinking a bottle of wine one night. Having

this similar background, they began to talk about what it would be like,

etc. Lisa had a wealth of information, having lived her whole life with a

one legged mother. They decided to play out the role in their room at

college, and it became a special thing. The both enjoyed each others

antics, and had become very close. Lisa appreciated Missy as an amputee,

and Missy came to think of Lisa that way. They became lovers and their

"amputations" became a part of their love play. They chose opposite sides,

Lisa as an LAK and Missy as an RAK, for the love play and in order to share

shoes.



They had practiced a great deal, learning methods of securing their folded

legs while concealing the reality. Girdles and pantyhose helped. They

usually used skirts, dresses and sun dresses with pants usually out of the

question, unless wearing long coats, and shorts also impossible most of the

time unless wearing "stump socks" made from orthopedic stockinette

"borrowed" from the campus infirmary. Thigh high stockings sufficed in the

bedroom and ace wraps for sleeping. Between the freshman and sophomore

years, I had bought Missy a new car. She had insisted on an automatic at

the time. Now I understood why. While neither of them had ventured into

public as an amputee, Missy had become competent at driving with her left

foot, a skill she had wanted to develop before she ventured out in public.



Missy told me that for increased excitement, she would put a golf ball in

the space behind her knee before folding her leg up. This blocked the nerve

and circulation after a while and made her lower leg fall to sleep quite

rapidly while giving her stump leg a heavy feeling. When this happened she

felt quite one legged in her mind.



"I have a spot, here," Missy said, lifting the "stump" of her leg and

letting it's scarless tip, covered in a dark silky stocking with the unused

portion neatly folded smoothly up the inside, peek out of her skirt so I

could see it, pointing, "right on the inside of what is usually my knee.

When I rub it, it feels like I am rubbing the bottom of my foot. Like

now.... there. I guess I was born with the spot because I have always

remembered it being exciting when I rubbed there. Lisa has one on her

'stub' too."



"Mine's across the end, but I have one at the crease of my hip and pelvis

as well," Lisa said, rubbing the end of her "stub" as she spoke and

allowing me to see that the fishnet hose had been cut off at knee level and

sewn together so as to appear as though they had been made that way. "Maybe

its genetic."



They both giggled. I wasn't laughing. I had just such a spot myself.



"This sensation is especially real feeling when my lower leg has gone to

sleep like it has now. That happens when I have been 'up' for a while,"

Missy said as she continued to gently rub the spot.



"You mean?..."



"Yes, I made dinner this way, but you were busy. I was going to tell you

but, I couldn't."



The conversation went on for about an hour. They had been practicing nearly

everyday this summer until I "caught" them. Yes them. It turns out that the

crutch thuds I had heard that day and the crutches by the ficus tree were

Missy's, not Lisa's. Missy had pulled a quick change for my benefit because

she wasn't ready to reveal the secret she had, or the fact that Lisa and

her were lovers. I guess I could have figured it out if I had noticed it

was a left shoe by the crutches.



"We're going to tell Lisa's mom and dad tonight. They don't yet know. Her

mom will be understanding, being a mid thigh LAK herself. Her dad will

probably be as shocked as you are. After that, we are going out in public,

for the first time, like this," Missy said.



They each grabbed their crutches and started out the door. I was a complete

basket case.





               *    *    *    *    *    *



Lisa's mom and dad were equally shocked, but took the news well,

considering it was a "done deal" as far as the girl's were concerned. They

went out to Planet Hollywood grabbed something to eat and spent the evening

flirting with the guys. While they had been lovers, it turns out neither of

them had lost their interest in boys.



The remainder of the summer was interesting whenever the two of them were

around. Missy was always on crutches, never hiding the fact from me that

she preferred to be that way. I got used to it, and it wasn't the subject

of much more conversation other than one she, Lisa, and I had about boys.



"You know, Mr. Smith, it is hard to explain what we do to the guys," Lisa

said.



"Hmmm. I guess I can understand that," I said.



"How to tell them about reality after they are attracted is a bit

difficult," Missy explained.



"My mom says its a lot like what an actual amputee who uses an artificial

limb goes through after hooking a man while using a prosthesis: Hard to

reveal the truth. It's difficult for us to explain how we only appear to

have one leg after guys have come on to us knowing, or at least thinking,

that we each only have one leg," Lisa said.



"Honesty is the best policy... but then...," Missy said.



"Difficult problem, girls. I really don't know what to tell you other than

be up front with the choice you have made, but only when necessary and only

when you are sure that it won't detract from the other parts of your

relationships. It took me a few years to admit my special attraction to

your mother, Missy, and she never did fully accept it."



"Why haven't you ever dated an amputee lady, Dad?" Missy asked.



"I never had a way to meet one," I answered.



Lisa looked at Missy and smiled, responding, "Would you like to?"



"I'd love to, but..."



"Mr. Smith, my mother usually uses crutches, for my dad's sake. She trades

shoes with a woman who she has known since college who is an opposite side

RHD who must use crutches, the prostheses for that type of amputation being

so poor. The woman understands and appreciates men like you and my dad and

would love to meet you, I am sure. She has been helpful to Missy and me

since we came 'out of the closet' to my parents a few weeks ago. Aunt

Eileen, that's what I've always called her, is really a neat lady," Lisa

said.



"Well, uh, yeah, well, I guess...." my voice trailed off. I really had had

several opportunities, but I was always worried about how I would react,

how she would react, etc., etc. Now, though, I had become quite used to

seeing two one legged women all of the time and I would be able to meet one

who knew, understood and accepted men like me. A date was set for that

weekend for Lisa's parents, Missy and Lisa, Eileen and me to get together

for dinner at Lisa's parents' house.

Naturally, the week was one filled with anticipation. The day finally

arrived. Nancy and Dan were really great people. Dan was up front about his

feelings about the attraction and Nancy was very accepting. She even did a

bit of showing off by wearing a skirt that barely covered her left mid-

thigh length stump. She and the girls got into quite a conversation, so Dan

and I went off to do what we both enjoyed. While Dan was showing off some

of his collection of material to me, I heard the doorbell ring. My heart

began to race. Eileen was here.



Dan said, "Now don't you worry, Rob, Eileen understands our attraction to

amputees, knows about the girls and their antics, and is quite willing to

soak in the attention. She was married once to a guy who married her out of

pity more than anything, but since her divorce 10 years ago has been

searching for a guy her appreciates her for what she doesn't have."



We went to the living room and Dan and Nancy introduced me to Eileen. She

was 5' 7" but stood taller with the heel she had on her nylon covered

single left leg, most of which showed from below the hem of the short skirt

she had on. A stunning brunette, I found it difficult to believe that

nobody had snatched her up. We hit it off right away, though I must admit,

I do believe she was coming on to me. It seems Dan and Nancy, or Lisa and

Missy, really had clued her in to my interest. I truthfully cannot remember

the conversation we had that night, but it was a wonderful time in my book.



The evening ended with Eileen and I making a date for the next weekend. I

went to shake her hand when she got up to leave, and she responded by

giving me a brief peck on the cheek. It seemed like the next weekend would

hold some promise.



Since I had had a bit of wine, Missy would drive us home. She crutched to

the car. Balancing on her single leg, with her forearm crutches hanging

from her arms, she unlocked the door and opened it. She sat down on the

seat, swung her stump and then leg into the car and unlocked the door on my

side. Seeing her drive home interested me to no end, expertly using her

left foot just as she used to use her right.



The next weekend came, and Eileen and I went out to a nice restaurant for

dinner. I enjoyed her company and our conversation. She was quite a neat

lady.



"You know, Rob, we haven't talked about the obvious," she suddenly

commented.



"You mean your leg?"



"Precisely. Why have you avoided it?"



"I don't know..."



"It's OK to be attracted to me, I like it when a guy goes crazy over me.

Unfortunately, that only seems to happen when he hasn't seen the fact that

I only have one leg or when one of you "amp lovers" is breaking his neck to

follow me but hasn't the nerve to say hi."



"Eileen, I really don't want to make a big deal out of it. I am just

enjoying being with you."



"But you are attracted to my one leggedness and I know it. It's OK. Don't

you even want to know what happened?...how I lost my leg?"



"I suppose....well, no not really. Spare me the gory details, just how does

your amputation make you feel?" but I guess I really didn't care. I was

enjoying her company a lot, but it seemed it was time we got all of the

"what happened, what's it feel like" questions over with.



"I lost my leg in my senior year of college. I was in Europe at the time.

At first, I guess I was a little afraid of coming back to college and being

one legged, but I got over that. I didn't come home right away and that

gave me time to adjust. By the time I came home, I was all right with my

new body and the feelings that it gave me."



"Phantom pains?"



"No, not pains. But the strange sensation that my leg was still there,

hanging down and bent up at the knee. Weird, but strangely pleasurable. I

found that after the scar healed, it was really quite sensuous to touch my

newly rounded off hip. There are times when I lay in bed and imagine the

leg still being there and try to move it, but not much happens but a little

twitch in my hip muscles."



And so the conversation went. I got more and more excited talking to her

and she seemed to be enjoying letting her whole story out. She had had many

relationships with normal men and a few with "amp lovers". It was one of

the latter that she married for a while, but he was really one of those who

mostly had pity for her. Eventually, it didn't work out.



We ended up in bed that night and have been enjoying each others'

uniqueness ever since.



               *    *    *    *    *    *



Missy returned to college with Lisa after the summer. They kept their

little secret to themselves except when the ventured way out of town. On

those trips, they would "convert" themselves "on the road" and spend their

entire visit in the other town as amputees.



Eileen and I became an item and Dan and Nancy and the two of us developed

quite a friendship.



During the next summer, between the junior and senior year, Missy and Lisa

both went to work. Lisa got a job as a receptionist while quite

convincingly playing amputee. Missy decided to make some more money as a

waitress. Crutches were out of the question, so she went to work using a

stiff legged gait created by a knee brace, a molded thin plastic heel brace

and several additional support stockings on her right leg, all covered by

long black pants. She limped quite a bit at work, but got by and enjoyed

the sensation of pretending to have an artificial leg while at work. When

asked by coworkers, she simply told them she was an amputee and used a

prosthetic limb.



When they had time off, the girls were out on the local scene, on crutches,

trolling. They didn't find an awful lot of takers, but the ones they did

find were definitely young men who were fascinated by their unique and

desirable state. I never did share my special interest, however, with any

of these young men, though I met a few. When these guys eventually found

out that the girls' amputations were not real, they usually stopped

calling.



After that summer, the girls returned again to college for their senior

year. At their college, it was common for seniors to take a semester

abroad. The girls chose France.



Early in the year, Eileen and I decided to tie the knot. We honeymooned in

Europe and met the girls their during their senior semester abroad. The

girls had no inhibition about going out in public there as amputees. We

enjoyed some really great times together and needless to say attracted some

no small amount of attention, what with three apparently one legged women

on crutches.



The girls remained to finish their studies and Eileen and I returned to the

states and to work. The girls were studying art history and wrote us often

about their trips around Europe. They sounded like they were having a ball.



Graduation time eventually came around and Eileen, Dan, Nancy, and I flew

back east for the ceremonies. The plane was late, so we didn't arrive until

the auditorium was nearly full. We were lucky to get seats anywhere near

each other. We hadn't had the opportunity to talk to the girls, but we were

all as proud as you can be.



During the processional, Eileen tapped me on the arm and drew my attention

to Lisa, crutching down the aisle in her long graduation gown, using

Canadians. I then realized that Lisa had decided to dress up special for

the graduation. She must have come "out of the closet" to her friends. I

began to wonder if Missy had done the same. I guessed that they had told

their friends about their special thing and that they had been accepted as

they were. Missy eventually came down the aisle, but she wasn't on

crutches. Maybe she hadn't had the same guts that Lisa had.



The graduation speech droned on and on, as most of them usually do. As the

girls names were called, they each crossed the stage to receive their

diploma. Lisa's name came up first and she skillfully climbed the steps one

at a time and crutched across the stage, only one foot, dressed in a nice

black shoe, emerging from the end of the gown. She grabbed her diploma

without breaking her stride and, tucking it under her arm, proceeded down

the steps on the opposite side of the stage. When it was Missy's turn, I

noticed she climbed the steps one at a time also, her leg stiff. Ha! So she

had revealed herself to her friends. As she crossed the stage, however, I

noticed that, while her left foot was in a nice white heel, on the right

there was only a shiny aluminum peg, its tip covered with a rubber crutch

tip, showing from below her graduation gown.



"Missy has a peg on, dear," Eileen noted.



"Yeah...". I was so proud of her that I really didn't care that she had

"come out" or how she got a peg leg made for her knee length "stump".



After the ceremony was over, we all gathered outside for pictures. It was a

warm day. Lisa removed her gown first, revealing a short, tight, black

dress that came to mid thigh of her single, nylon covered, well shaped leg,

its curves accentuated by her high heel. Single leg. On the left, there was

nothing: no folded leg, no stump, nothing. Her leg was actually gone at the

hip. She caught my eye and smiled, turned a bit on her leg, balancing on

her forearm crutches and moved her pelvis just a bit, to let me see the

outline of her hip stump. I stood in shock, staring.



"How, What?..." I was confused.



Eileen responded, " Well, it looks like they went through with it. It looks

like the girls had done what Nancy and I had done during our senior

semester in Europe many years ago. They will, no doubt, be happy now, just

like Nancy and I."



"Huh?"



"Silly. I told you that you should have asked me how I lost my leg."



"You mean...."



"Yes... I wanted it this way."



It was then that Missy stepped out of the crowd and removed her graduation

gown. She stared at me, and tears started to form in her eyes as she

smiled. In her short white skirt, in contrast to her nicely shaped, left

leg, one could easily see that the shiny aluminum peg was attached to a

smoothly tapered, thin, skin colored plastic socket that ended just above

mid thigh. She skillfully stepped forward on it as she reached out to give

me a hug.



"Oh Missy, Oh Missy, no...."