Paradise

Allow me to tell you my story. I feel the time has come to relate my life‰s history to 
you, and to let you in on why I took the decisions that I did. I‰m sure that at first 
you won‰t believe a word of it. But it is all true.

It all began when I was twenty-three. I was a student then, and one day, returning 
home from a dreadful day of lectures, I got run over by a bus. It was my own fault, 
really. I always went way too fast on my racing bike. I must have had a lapse in 
concentration or something. Anyway, I woke up in hospital, where some friendly 
surgeon told me that they had had to amputate my right foot.

At first I was a broken girl. I thought that my life was over. I was into sports and I 
loved running and cycling, and I couldn‰t believe that I would ever do that again.

After a couple of days I was transferred to a rehabilitation facility. My stay there 
gave me a different perspective. There were people there who were far worse off 
than I was, and I when one of the prostheticians there assured me that I would be 
back on my bike in a few weeks, I began to see things a lot brighter.

Then, after some days, I began to have strange feelings. At first I didn‰t know what 
was happening; everytime I saw one of the other patients - or clients as the staff 
called them - I became excited, breaking out a sweat for no apparent reason. I 
made a remarks about this to my therapist. ‹You better come see me tonightŠ, was 
all she said.

That evening I crutched my way to her office, where she had stayed late to wait for 
me. At her request I fully explained my feelings and she asked a lot of questions. To 
make a long story short, it turned out that I was becoming fascinated by the notion 
of amputation. She explained that she knew quite a number of people with the same 
‹problemŠ, most of them not being amputees themselves, like I was. Some of them 
were so fascinated, that they wanted to become amputees themselves. She 
referred to them as ‹wannabeesŠ.

As the weeks progressed my feelings became stronger and stronger. I began to 
look forward to visits to the rehab center, not because they were helping with my 
particular amputation, but because it would give me the chance to see the other 
amputees. I was particularly interested in a young woman who had lost both legs 
and her right arm in a car crash. The more I saw of her, the more she fascinated 
me.

Living at home with your parents has its advantages, especially when you have a 
protective and caring mother like mine. And since my accident happened at the 
beginning of the summer holiday season, I was at home most of the time. But it also 
has its disadvantages. My mother has one great quality; she can very acutely sense 
a change in anyone‰s mood, and in mine more so. She suspected that something 
was bothering me, and one day asked about it. It was then that I dropped the bomb 
shell.

Of course my mother was heart-broken. In hindsight I can understand, but at that 
moment I didn‰t realise what impact the message of having a wannabe-devotee, 
with lesbian tendencies, for a daughter would have on her. Needless to say we cried 
a lot.

Meanwhile, I didn‰t know where to go with my feelings; I couldn‰t just go over to the 
triple-amputee girl and tell her I loved her, could I? *Did* I really love her, or was 
there something else?

A week later I was told that the triple amputee had gone to another institute, 
somewhere nearer to her family. She was gone, I didn‰t know her name (although I 
could have inquired at the rehab center).

I tried to put the whole thing out of my mind, but I wasn‰t very successful. Each time 
I took off my artificial foot, everything came back. It was as if the very act of taking it 
off, was like an amputation in itself. It thrilled me endlessly.

About six months after my accident I had to go back to the rehab center for a check 
up. It was then that I met Dr. Lawrence (‹call me LarryŠ) Grant. He explained that my 
regular doctor had accepted a position elsewhere and that he, Larry, was his 
replacement. I didn‰t think much about it at the moment, but later I found the whole 
thing a bit strange. Anyway, it all makes sense now. But let me continue.

Larry told me that my feelings towards the triple amputee had been brought to his 
attention. He told me he had the perfect solution for me. I won‰t tell you what he 
explained to me exactly, suffice it to say that I came back that day with my thoughts 
in turmoil. I didn‰t sleep properly, didn‰t eat properly, and generally made an asshole 
of myself during a couple of days, much to the chagrin of my mother. On the 
morning of the third day after Larry‰s revelations I made my decision and went to the 
rehab center to see Larry.

I won‰t bother you with the following two weeks. They were spent preparing and 
packing for my journey. My parents were absolutely thrilled; I had told them that I 
had had an offer from one of the people I had met in the rehab center. I told them 
that some hideously wealthy father of one of the clients had asked me to be the 
personal day care assistant for his daughter, while she went on a world cruise, all 
expenses paid. My parent were very happy for me to ‹have found a new purpose in 
life after my tragic accidentŠ.

The truth was that I was going to Larry‰s institution, set up in utter secrecy, by some 
very wealthy clients of his. The bottom line is that a wannabe can go there, and 
have one or more limbs removed by request. No questions asked as to the motives 
of the wannabe. At first I hadn‰t believed Larry when he told me about it, but later it 
dawned on me that the institution catered for a certain class of customers. You 
guessed it, the wealthy guys who set up the funds for Larry‰s center are all 
devotees.....

Two weeks later I arrived in paradise. The center was located on a tropical island, 
specially purchased by one of Larry‰s funders. White beaches, palm trees, crystal 
clear seas, a five-star hotel for the clients (of whatever inclination), and medical 
facilities that would make the Mayo Clinic look pale in comparison.

And amputees everywhere.....

Actually, wearing my prosthesis, which made me look like a normal able-bodied 
person, I was the odd one out. Except for the medical staff, everyone was an 
amputee, even the staff.

The hotel actually consisted of a whole complex of neat bungalows, complete with 
separate rooms for your personal assistant, if you needed one. Everything on the 
whole island signalled luxury and wealth.

I was housed in a very nice little three-room bungalow. My condition didn‰t need a 
personal assistant (yet!), so I had all rooms for myself. I was told to get settled, get 
to know the staff and the other people on the island as I judged comfortable, and 
generally to blend in. I was also told not to use my prothesis, and that a pair of 
crutches were available. It was then that I realised that NOBODY used 
protheses......

After three days it became pretty clear to me that the crutches were made available 
to me only as an introductory nicety. No equipment was used in the island, no 
crutches, no prostheses, no wheelchairs. As soon as I realised that I discarded them 
and started training myself in hopping, something that I had seen all the other one-
leggers do.

I cannot describe the feeling of euforia that I experienced for the next couple of 
weeks. Only one thing was nagging at me; I was the ‹lightestŠ case in the whole 
complex, only missing one foot. I asked Larry about this, and of course he didn‰t 
anser, he just asked if I had any suggestions as to how to solve my problem. Before 
realising what I said I told him that I‰d like to have my whole right leg removed. 
‹GoodŠ, he said, ‹you pick the time and date, and I‰ll take care of the restŠ.

I was in heaven. This was too good to be true.

He continued, ‹However, I will not accept a date within a week. I want you to 
reconsider, and make sure that you‰re going to do exactly what you want.Š

I reconsidered. And reconsidered again, and again. But deep down I knew that I 
was absolutely sure that I wanted to go through with it.

Ten days later I was what is called a RAK, or - more precisely - a RHD, a right hip 
disarticulation. Within days after the operation I was up and about on my crutches, 
and I was actually being congratulated by some of the friends that I had made. It 
was almost like a being allowed into a brother-/sisterhood, like an initiation.

The next few weeks were the happiest in my life, so far. During that time I got to 
know a lot of the people a lot better. There was Jeany, who was an amputee by 
accident, just like me, but had also discovered her deeper, secret feelings. After 
having lost her left leg in a motorbike accident, and after having been dumped by 
her husband, she came into contact with Larry and ended up on the island.

There was Michael (Mike), who was born without legs, with only two flippers 
attached to his hips. He had come to the island to have the flippers removed. He 
was a terribly good looking guy with a very nice character, and he was making me 
forget my lesbian tendencies.

One of the more flamboyant characters on the island was Chrissy. She was 
absolutely amazing. I have never seen anyone so cheerful and happy in my life. 
She was one of the girls who had established a permanent relationship with one of 
Larry‰s founders. She lacked both arms at the shoulders. I was told that she lost the 
left one in an accident, but that she had had the right one, her dominant one, 
removed at her request. She had no stumps; her shoulders were very smooth, with 
only the slightest hint of a scar.

When I talked to her one evening she told me that she had had phantasies of being 
armless ever since she was a young girl and that from very early on she had trained 
herself in using her feet instead of her hands. This continued during her 
adolescence, she even had one of her close friends tie her up so that her arms 
were totally useless, while her parent had gone away for a weekend. She and her 
friend play-acted the whole weekend, she with her arms bound to her back, the 
friend with one leg folded, ankle strapped to thigh, thus simulating one-leggedness. 
She explained that, being the flexible girl that she was, she used to be able to bring 
her underarms together at her back, after which they were tied together very tightly. 
It was painful at first, she said, but you got used to it. It did a great job of making 
your arms totally useless. During one such weekend she and her friend went out 
shopping as amputees, and were extremely, but pleasantly surprised by the 
attention they were getting from some men.

During the weeks following her second amputation I regularly met with her, 
sometimes to have dinner together, sometimes for some other social event. We 
became good friends. The way she handled objects with her feet and the utter 
armlessness of her was one of the sexiest sights to behold.

Her accident, and subsequently, Larry‰s offer to come to the island, were exactly 
what she needed to reach her goal in life. And she, her character, and her condition 
appealed to one of the founders of the institute. They had got to know one another 
and in the end fell in love. When I asked her why she wasn‰t living with him she told 
me that that was exactly what was going to happen. They were going to get 
married.....

I have already mentioned the staff. There were room maids, cleaners, bar tenders, 
pool attendants, cooks, waiters and waitresses, you know, all the jobs that you may 
associate with luxurious holiday resorts. And all of them were amputees. And the 
majority of them were from what you might call third world countries. I asked Larry 
about them and he explained that they were amputees form poor countries, who 
would normally be destined to live a life of begging and general misery. So he 
offered them a chance of a job, a nice job I might add, at a pleasant location. A very 
pleasant location. At the same time they were offered the opportunity to study and 
learn a trade when off duty, so that their return home would be easier. However, 
only a very small number of them opted to return.....

On one leg and with crutches I could pretty much take care of myself in my snugg 
little bungalow. After a couple of weeks, however, I was asked to ‹employŠ a 
personal assistant, a young girl from Korea, who had lost her left leg when a 
department store collapsed. She was only 19, and stunningly beautiful. 
Approximately ten seconds after first meeting her I was sure that I would ‹hireŠ her. 
‹HireŠ is not the correct word, of course, but anyway. She wasn‰t only young, but 
also rather naieve, and I took it upon myself to make her a little wiser in, you know, 
certain matters. Within days she was far more than my personal assistant. We were 
lovers, and very hot ones, too. Boy, did she learn fast!

You might think that living in paradise becomes boring after a while. Not so. At least, 
I didn‰t find my new life boring in the least. There were always new people to meet 
and to assist in settling down, and there was a lot of room to explore your most 
inner secrets. Surprising at first, but far less so when you stop to think about it, 
many of the islanders were into some form of bondage. The wonderful thing is, that 
once you have established what you desire, on our island you can actually get it. 
Permanently. Oh, don't be mistaken; we all make absolutely sure beforehand that 
no-one does anything rash or impulsive. In hindsight I believe that there must have 
been bondage elements behind the armless girl‰s desires.

I have already hinted at the fact that the institute on the island serves as an 
intermediary to bring amputees and devotees together. You‰d be amazed at the 
number of successful couplings that were achieved this way. You‰d be equally 
surprised at the number of people who are customers of the institute, actually 
looking for the partner of their dreams. With the number of limbs of their dreams. 
So, every once in a while, a visitor would come to the island, to survey the stock, so 
to speak. Now, please don‰t look upon this in a negative way. The whole 
arrangement has the happiness and welfare of both parties as its highest priority. 
So one day one such visitor arrived, not as in most cases a rich business man, but a 
rich business woman, having made a fortune in the fashion business. It quickly 
became clear that she was looking for models. She had brought a large number of 
clothes from her new collection and wanted to see some of the girls modelling them. 
The spectacle that was organised the next evening was one of the most amazing 
thing I have ever witnessed, or will ever witness. Armless girls modelling strapless 
dresses. Women with one leg, or with no legs at all, showing hotpants and 
extremely short skirts. And the swimwear show beat it all. And as you know, no 
equipment like wheelchairs or prostheses are used on the island, so there was a lot 
of hopping and crawling on the catwalk. CatŠwalkŠ might not be the correct word....

A number of the girls were selected and left the island together with the fashion 
queen. We haven‰t heard from them since, but I suspect that sometime soon there 
will be a fashion show that will rock the world!

I was getting restless. At first I couldn‰t put my finger on it, but a couple of long talks 
with Larry clarified a number of things to me. I was not only a wannabee in the 
sense that I wanted to *be* an amputee, I was actually turned on by the process of 
the amputation itself, and the following period of adjustment. I was beginning to 
wonder if I should leave it at one leg, and began seriously considering having the 
other one removed as well. Seeing some of the other DAKs moving around on their 
hands and butts made me go all woozy.

And so I went through the whole process again, the talks with the staff, trying to 
establish how determined I was. They even tried actively to talk me out of it. But, as 
time progressed, I only became more and more determined; leglessness was the 
state I wanted to be in. Eventually a date was set and a couple of weeks later I was 
moving around the island on my hands and bottom. My remaining leg had been 
removed at the hip, just like the first one.

If I felt happy after the removal of my first leg, I was absolutely euforic after the other 
had been removed. It did great things for my relationship with my personal assistant, 
who - as I explained - was much more than just that. We were lovers, and even 
more so after my second operation. Our sexlife improved dramatically, and my new 
state awoke some deep feelings in the both of us. I suspected that it wouldn‰t be 
long before we would both be legless.

As I mentioned before, we were all eagerly awaiting news about an amputee 
fashion show somewhere in the world. But it never happened. I know because one 
day the fashion queen returned to the island. On the evening of her arrival I had the 
chance to have a chat with her in the pool bar near my bungalow. Upon my inquiry 
she explained that she had been unable to interest any of the fashion magazines, 
either on paper or video, and that she had postponed the project. As she said it, ‹to 
make preparations, but in a different wayŠ.

At the beginning of our chat I noticed with a bit of a shock that her right hand had 
only four fingers. The middle finger appeared to be missing. I asked her about it, 
and to my even greater surprise she showed me her left hand which she had kept in 
her lap until then. The same thing, only three fingers and a thumb! It turned out that 
she had talked Dr. Larry into performing the operations on her hands for cosmetic 
reasons; she had always thought that the human hand (well, the female hand at any 
rate) looked so much better when the middle finger and the corresponding meta 
carpal bones were removed.

Then she dropped the next bomb shell on me by showing me her feet. You guessed 
it! Four toes on each foot! She explained that she had visions of four fingered hands 
and four toed feet ever since she was a little girl, after having watched - of all things 
- a cartoon. As you may know, most cartoon figures have four fingered hands. 
Anyway, from that moment on, she told me, she knew that she would never be 
perfect unless she could have two fingers and two toes removed. Only when she 
came into contact with Dr. Larry recently had she been able to have her fantasies 
made into reality.

We had some more drinks and this helped dropping our inhibitions even more. She 
admitted that she was into bondage. She gave me some graphic descriptions of 
scenes and situation she had been in. Almost all of these involved bound arms 
behind her back and blindfolds, and on many an occasion she had also been bound 
by the legs. She told me that having her arms bound gave her the greatest turnon.

At that point we were not able to continue our conversation, because Dr. Larry came 
to fetch her. Apparently they had a date. I think that there was a bit more between 
them than just friendship, by the way. Good for her. Larry is a very nice guy, and a 
hero for the most of us, because he enables us to be exactly how we like to be, no 
questions asked. And he‰s doing a great job for all those ëdevotees‰ out there, too. If 
they‰re rich enough, that is.

I already told you about the ëbondage thing‰ that I believe is the basis for many of 
our wannabe feelings. The girl I mentioned earlier went all the way by having her 
remaining arm amputated. Memories of her kept girating in the back of my head, 
and one evening I discussed it with my ëpersonal assistant‰, now lover. She admitted 
that she had also been thinking about it a lot, and we toyed with some ideas for 
some time, meanwhile working our way through two bottles of wine. The alcohol 
must have put our minds in a state that we - almost at the same moment - dared to 
suggest to each other to do some experimenting. And so, with the help of a couple 
of yards of ace bandage, my left arm was transformed into a rather plump stump, 
somewhat resembling a disarticulation at the elbow. I must admit that my lover 
made a very good job of this. Experience, maybe?

Having one arm rendered useless presented me with quite a mobility challenge. As I 
explained, I had to move on my hands and bottom, planting my hands on the 
ground (which was kept meticulously clean evreywhere), swinging my torso between 
them, sitting on my bottom, putting my hands forward, and so on. But I now only had 
one hand, and that made it all a lot more difficuult. I had seen one of the triple 
amputees on the island do it, however, so I tried to copy that. After an hour or so, I 
got the hang of it, to a certain extent, and moved about our bungalow. And while 
doing so, and probably still under the influence of the alcohol, I got pretty truned on 
in the process. The sex we had that night was the best for me so far.....

I decided that this was just the kind of game that would hold our mutual interest for 
quite a while, and therefore asked Larry‰s assistant if she could provide some sort of 
corset with an arm restraint of some sort. Surprise, surprise, she had exactly the 
thing I was looking for. It turned out that many of the arm amputee candidates 
wanted to try it out first, and especially for that purpose a number of modified 
corsets were made. I selected one that works as follows: because I‰m pretty flexible 
I can put my hand between my shoulder blades, with the back of my hand touching 
my back. This puts the elbow close to the body. So, first I put a special glove on my 
left hand. It has five fingers, but they have been sewed together, restraining finger 
movement. Furthermore it has a number of straps that can be tied to a special 
shoulder harnass. When everything has been tied together, I can no longer remove 
my hand from its position high up my back. Then the corset is put on, over the 
ëstump‰ that is close to my body. Everything is tied very tightly, thus making any 
movement of the folded arm, the stump, impossible. Put some clothing over it and 
the effect is complete. When I looked in the mirror I noticed that it was not perfect - I 
was slightly fatter on the left side than on the right - but the empty left sleeve of my 
sweater was very convincing.
 
It took me some courage to go out of the bungalow as a triple amputee, but when I 
finally did, I got the reactions from the others that I did, I became more self assured 
in this new state. We made a particularly memorable appearance, my lover and I, 
when we went to a dinner party one evening, I with only one functioning limb, my 
right arm, and my lover hopping behind me on her only leg, with her left arm bound 
and restrained in quite the same way as mine. I got some pretty interesting stares 
from some of the other people who attended the dinner party, which was given by 
the way, on the occasion of the fashion queen and Larry announcing their 
engagement, and also the fashion queen herself announcing her leg amputation, 
which was planned for the next week. So, she was more than just he finger-and-toe 
type, after all.

As the weeks progressed, my lover lost interest in the arm binding, but I grew more 
and more used to it. Addicted may be a better term. I sometimes went one-limbed 
for whole days on end, and slowly, ever so slowly, a new idea began forming at the 
back of my mind. Could I make it permanent? Would I dare to make it permanent? 
Would Larry agree to make it permanent? I tried to suppress the thought, without 
knowing why. I had taken rather a step by deciding ot have my right leg removed, or 
what was left of it. And then later, I took another step (no pun intended) by having 
the left one amputated. Now, why would this next step be any different? Oh yes, it 
greatly reduced my mobility, such as it was, and coping with the loss of an arm is 
much more difficult than the loss of a leg or both legs, or so I‰m told. But on the 
other hand (again, no pun intended), I was getting pretty used to being one-limbed 
by now, and the place where I now lived, as well as the other people who live here, 
form an environment that is quite different from the normal world, in many ways 
making limblessness a much easier state to be in than in would in, say, the suburbia 
I came from. Still, amputation is very, very permanent.....

I decided to speak to Larry about it. Needless to say he understood. He explained 
that most wannabees at some point in time consider a second amputation, but only 
very few of them actually pursue this further. He told me that I should consider what 
I now had in mind, even more so than my previous decisions. He made an 
agreement with me, that he and his staff would actively attempt to talk the idea out 
of me, as is always done, and that we would take no actual, physical action for a 
period of three months. Meanwhile, I was of course free to play and experiment to 
my heart‰s content. He also gave me some reading material, mainly stuff from an 
ancient periodical called London Life.

About one month later, my lover killed herself. I can now only guess at her 
motivation, but I suspect that she didn‰t like the way I was going, combined with her 
own, old feelings of being an incomplete human being when not all four limbs are 
present. I will never know for sure, but maybe my playing triggered some mental 
switch in and pushed her over the edge. So she took a large dose of a heavy 
sedative and went swimming. Next morning she was found, washed up on the 
beach.

For the first time in my life I felt a real sense of loss. It was much, much stronger 
than what I felt when losing my foot, or leaving my family. Her death left a whole in 
my mind that will never be filled, no matter how long I live.

I had not considered it possible, but I went through a period of depression, 
regretting everything I had done, including the removal of my legs. I came very close 
to ending my life as well. And if it hadn‰t been for Larry and his fashion queen, I 
would undoubtedly have washed up on the beach, too. Anyway, any thoughts of a 
third amputation were forgotten.

Then the unthinkable happened; I fell in love again.....with a man. At first I couldn‰t 
believe it myself, but I actually turned out to be a hetero after all. His name is 
Leonard, the most gorgeous guy in the world (don‰t all girls in love say that?), and 
he came to the island to see what he had actually invested his money in. Yes, he is 
one of Larry‰s clients, and he is most definitely a devotee. We met at a cocktail party 
in his honor. Well, actually, he nearly tripped over me, spilling most of his drink on 
me, and started to apologize. He never came further than ‹Oops, I‰m sorry, I 
didn‰t....Š and than lightning struck. Both ways.

When we both came to our senses again, we struck up a conversation, and he 
made it pretty clear that he was lovestruck. We ended up in the same bed, his bed, 
that night, and for the very first time I had sex with a man. Of course I had never felt 
that before, and it felt like, well, nothing I had ever felt before. Words can not 
describe it.

Everything that happened after that did so in a blur, so much so that I have trouble 
rememberign exactly WHAT had happened. But I ended up in Leonard‰s house on 
the island. He had made arrangements that enable him to spend a good deal of his 
time here. With all the electronic highway and stuff he can conduct his business 
from virtually anywhere on the planet.

One evening, I think about six weeks after I met him, Leonard told me he wanted to 
show me something, and he asked me to follow him to his in-house office. He also 
asked me to be very open-minded about what he was going to show me. I got 
intrigued. He powered up his PC, and started a graphics program. I was presented 
with a slide show. Picture after picture appeared on the high-resolution screen, all of 
women with one or more limbs missing. Leonard told me that he had collected the 
pictures from various sources, like bulletin boards and the Internet. He explained 
that there were a large number of men ‹out thereŠ that were fascinated by the 
amputee woman, some to the point that they made it their life‰s goal of finding one 
to be their SO. He told me he had found his SO. Me.

Leonard went on to explain where he got all the material. I was amazed to learn that 
most of it came from various sources, readily accessible by computer and modem. 
But also, that there were a number of organisations that actually sold photographic 
and video material. Most of the pictures were old stuff, though, suggesting that this 
interest in amputee women must have existed for quite a while.

Among the pictures that Leonard showed me were some of a triple amputee. She 
resembled the girl I met in the rehab center, but it must have been someone 
different, since the pictures were quite old. Anyway, these pictures excited me very 
much. This was what I had been pursuing some time ago, and watching the pictures 
on the computer screen brought back all the memories and excitement.

Now, it wasn‰t a coincidence that Leonard chose to show me those particular 
photographs. As the evening progressed it became clear to me that this was 
actually the type of women he had been looking for. Well, no, that‰s not acurate. He 
had always been looking for a triple amputee, either with only one arm or with only 
one leg left. And since I was already without legs, and since he was hopelessly in 
love with me, and vice versa, he suggested that I would become one-armed as well. 
He didn‰t just put it quite that bluntly, of course, but that was what it boiled down to 
at the end of the evening.

I will not pretend that I was amazed about Leonard‰s confession, because I had 
been on the island too long not to know ny know that some devotees would go a 
long way to pursue their dream woman. And some wanabees would indeed go 
equally far. But only now did it dawn on me that I was actually in demand, and that 
any further physical modifications would not be just to please myself, but someone 
else as well. Someone, by the way, for whom I was prepared to go far ,very very far 
indeed. As it turned out, Leonard was prepared to give up everything he had, if I 
were to stay with him and go along with his wishes. He would sell his stake in the 
company, give up his business, actually give up everything he had worked for so 
far, to be able to have me. It sounds awfully posessive, but be assured that our 
relation had become one of pure, unconditional love. And that means doing 
anything - ANYTHING - for your partner.

But, being the rational man that he is, Leonard didn‰t want to push things too 
quickly, he said. I told him that I would think of something to surprise him. This left 
him puzzled, I‰m sure. Then I went back to my own bungalow to dig up the special 
corset and shoulder harnass that had served to make me one-armed, if only 
temporarily. I decided to surprise him at our next meeting.

I didn‰t, actually. The next meeting was the next morning in the swiming pool. We 
both swam a couple of laps, then went to lunch. Over lunch we discussed the 
conversation of the previous evening, and when I left I told him to pick me up that 
evening to have dinner.

After returning home I showered and began preparations for my surprise. It was a 
lot more difficult to strap everything on on my own, so I called my next door 
neighbour asking her to help me out. She was my normal swimming partner, but 
that morning, having seen Leonard at the pool, she had decided not to turn up. How 
considerate. She had witnessed my one-armed game before, and knew exactly 
what it was about. In no time I was strapped in and the next problem was to choose 
the clothing that would maximize the effect. This selection process (you know how 
long it takes for women), and the practising of moving with only one arm, took the 
rest of the afternoon.

I felt I had to confide in my neighbour and swimming friend, so I told her all about 
Leonard‰s secret desires. She understood very well, but pointed out to me that the 
loss of an arm has more impact than the loss of a leg, or both legs. So important are 
the arms and the hands for a human being. She also warned me not to confuse my 
playing with the real thing; when your acting the part, there‰s always the knowledge 
at the back of your head that you can get back to normal. Oh, well, to your previous 
state, I mean. It was at that moment that I realised fully what she meant. Not only 
would removing an arm have an impact on my way of moving about, but it would 
mean much, much more. Swimming, to begin with. Eating, applying make up, 
virtually anything would be much harder. Oh, I had practised a lot, but the realisation 
that it would be permanent, that was something that started to scare me a little.

I didn‰t have time to be scared for long, however, because Leonard arrived to pick 
me up. During the afternoon we had arranged that my neighbour would answer the 
door and show Leonard into the living room, where had would find me sitting at my 
desk, with my right side towards him. Then I would turn my chair, which has wheels. 
It worked like a dream. When I turned to face Leonard I thought his eyes would pop 
tight out. He broke out a sweat, flushed, and started ‹Oh, my God, what....Š, but then 
his experienced eyes caught sight of my fat left side, and he immediately knew what 
had been done.

I will skip the details of the dinner. In fact I will take you to a day about three weeks 
after that. That‰s when Leonard and I made some decisions. Some very important 
decisions, at that. First, we decided to get married. Second, he decided to quit the 
business; he had enough funds to live comfortably for the rest of his life and 
maintain a wife and an extensive staff in a big house. In other words, we wouldn‰t 
have to worry about anything. Third, we decided (yes, WE decided) that my left arm 
should go. Leonard had guaranteed that I would have personal staff at all times, so I 
wouldn‰t have to worry too much about the everyday platitudes.

We decided to stay on the island, but that presented Leonard with a bit of a 
problem. Or so he thought. The point was that Leonard wasn‰t an amputee, and had 
never really seriously considered becoming one either. Like any devotee, he had 
had wannabe feelings some time to time, but in his case never so strongly that he 
actually had considered taking the big step. But he also didn‰t want to be the odd 
one out on the island, and he admitted one day that seeing all those interesting 
people on the island made some of his earlier desires come back. And exactly that 
was what made us make a fourth major decision; Leonard would have a leg 
removed.

Talking about it now it sounds all so ‹matter-of-factŠ, and it may seem that on the 
island paradise it was no more difficult to have a limb removed than it was to have 
your ears pierced or something like that. Well, it wasn‰t THAT easy. But it wasn‰t 
very difficult either.

We had planned both our operations for the same day and we woke up together in 
the island hospital, where we had a room for the two of us. After our recoveries we 
went through a most happy period of our life, both of us exploring the new 
possibilities (and impossibilities) of our new physical state.

For a time we were the most popular couple on the island, not in the least because 
of my courage to go as far with wannabe feelings as I had done. I turned out to be 
quite an inspiration to others, and the demand for the arm binding harness went way 
up. Production soared, so to speak.

Which brings me back to the fashion queen. One morning she came over for coffee 
and told me that she had had a new fashion idea and that she wanted my opinion. 
The idea was to market the harness, together with a line of specially designed 
clothing that would hide the folded and bound arm and would give the impression of 
real one-armedness. She showed me some sketches and drawings she had made. 
Needless to say these turned on Leonard quite a bit, so much so that he offered her 
to finance her new project. Plans were made, more sketches drawn, and before the 
month was over she had managed to have some of her garments ready for 
showing. Some of the girl of the island were recruited to model the outfits. The show 
was an utter success. Some of the clothes were shown by actual one-armed girls, 
others by girls who were outfitted with the special harness. And while most girls in 
the latter category were one-legged as well, there was a lot of hopping going on on 
the catwalk. I was thrilled beyond anything.

Our games with my special harness became more and more frequent, to a point 
where I was one-armed for the greater part of the day. This was all part of an 
extended period of ‹trainingŠ that we had decided on. Over the course of a month or 
two I became very skilled at moving with only one arm available. When this two 
month, self-imposed training period was over, I went into surgery a third time.

My life as a one-limber was better than ever before. Leonard is a hell of a lover, and 
he made sure that I had someone to assist me with whatever I had to do at all times. 
Most of the time it was Leonard himself, but since he was missing a leg, there were 
certain things even he couldn‰t do. He had therefore arranged for one of his former 
female employees to join us on the island. She had all four limbs, but that just made 
her just the exception on the island. I wonder, however, how long she will stay that 
way.....

I just referred to my two month training period. A lot of things happened during that 
time. Several of the girls who had been experimenting with the special arm binding 
harness elected to go for the permanent condition and went into surgery. All of them 
were one-legged before, so now they were one-armed as well. It was interesting to 
observe the differences between those who had chosen to have the arm removed 
at the same side and those who had chosen the opposite side of their previous leg 
amputation. I admit that the ‹same sidersŠ turn me on slightly more than the 
‹opposite sidersŠ, but I am unable to explain why. Anyway, one-legged-and-one-
armed-ness was a condition I was no longer able to experience. Pity.

Another thing that occurred during that period was the arrival of some new 
islanders. Among them were a young man and a young woman, both of whom only 
had half a body. The lower part, including the pelvis was not present, their vital 
organs having found a way to develop in the lower part of their ribcage. In both 
cases, the condition was congenital. They hadn‰t known each other before Dr. Larry 
had brought them together. Apparently it had been love at first sight; they were 
married only days before coming to the island, to which they had decided to 
emigrate. They were the most intriguing couple you can ever imagine.

Another new arrival was a woman of around 35 who was completely arm- and 
shoulderless. I happened to see her topless a couple of days after her arrival. She 
did indeed have no shoulders at all, you could only see the shape of her ribcage. I 
was told that it had been the result of an accident involving high-voltage powerlines. 

If you‰ve been reading between the lines correctly, you may have gathered by now 
that the removal of my left arm was not the end of it. Of course Leonard and I had 
been contemplating about what it would be like to be completely limbless, but I 
hadn‰t given it any further thought after the amputation of my arm. However, after 
some time I decided to put my thoughts and feeling to paper, well, to word 
processor, actually, and that was the reason I became a frequent user of Leonard‰s 
computer. One evening I booted the thing up, but after only a few minutes lost the 
desire to work on my story. I started searching for, and indeed found Leonard‰s 
directories with all the amputee pictures. One such directory was called QUADS and 
when I looked at some of the pictures there my initial thoughts were confirmed. All 
the pictures were of completely limbless ladies. And, you‰ve guessed it, this was 
exactly the state I wished to be in.

Next morning Leonard and I started to make plans for my fourth and final operation. 
Leonard had seen it coming, he said. In a way, I myself had known somewhere at 
the back of my mind, that my first amputation on the island would not be my last. 
But now that the moment approached, I began to consciously think about it. It 
scared me, in a way. Having no limbs at all would render me utterly helpless, unable 
to perform even the simplest tasks, like combing my hair, or even scratching my 
nose. I would be dependent on others for feeding me or bathing me, things that - 
even with only one limb remaining - I could still do myself. While the thought scared 
me it also excited me at the same time.

There was also the issue of mobility. With one arm remaining I was still able to 
move around, albeit slowly and inelegantly. But having no limbs at all would prove to 
be a whole different ballgame. Equipment was not allowed on the island, as I have 
mentioned earlier. Well, not exactly that, it was highly discouraged. So a wheelchair 
was out of the question, let alone an electric one, which was of course what I would 
need.

Later that day we approached Dr. Larry with our dilemma. He told us that mobility 
would not be a problem. He continued to mention a lady who had lived on the island 
before my arrival. She had been totally limbless, no leg stumps, no arm stumps, not 
even shoulders. She had used an electric wheelchair, controlled by her mouth and 
tongue. And she had always, always been accompanied by one of her two 
assistants to take care of her. It was made clear to me that similar arrangements 
could be made for me, especially since Leonard had enough financial means to hire 
one or two assistants full time. One was already here, and Leonard hastened to 
assure me that a second would be employed if I wanted. Larry explained that the 
woman‰s electric wheelchair was still on the island, in storage somewhere, and that 
he would try and make it available to me as soon as possible.

At that point I got scared again; Leonard and Larry were a little too easy about the 
subject, almost as if they wanted me to be limbless as soon as possible. Which - in 
Leonard‰s case - might be true.

We returned to our home and decided to do nothing drastic for at least three 
months. This would give us time to rethink our thoughts, and also to experiment and 
find out what it would be like, using the special harness I mentioned before. 

The next day Larry called to inform us that he had found the wheelchair, and that he 
had given it to the maintenance people to refit it. It would be available for me 
whenever I needed it after they were finished with it. But he also assured me, no, he 
even implored me, to rethink the whole issue.

Ans so we did. The next ten weeks were spent discussing and rediscussing over 
and over again what seemed to be inevitable, because time and time again we 
came to the same conclusion. Do it.

The harness proved its worth again and again. I spent days on end in my simulated 
limbless condition, practising with the wheelchair. Tricky stuff, controlling a chair like 
that with your tongue, but after about five weeks I was quite skilled.

Leonard‰s employee, Rita, proved her worth, too. She is one hell of a young woman, 
ever ready for me, and probably even more excited about the whole thing than 
myself. After all, I did have some experience in becoming an amputee, while for her 
it still was something relatively new.

We didn‰t finish the full three months of our self-imposed evaluation period. At the 
end of the tenth week I went into surgery. All I remember was a vague feeling of 
panic moment before the anestethic took hold and I passed out.

I could tell you about my recovery, about the days and weeks following my final 
amputation, about the excitement among the other islanders, their admiration for my 
courage (as most of them called it). But I won‰t. All I have to say is that I am utterly 
happy in my new condition. Rita is absolutely wonderfull. She has a knack for 
anticipating my needs, somehow knowing exactly when I like a sip from a drink, and 
things like that. I‰m not sure how she does that, but it is wonderfull to have her 
around. We are growing closer and closer, almost becoming one, she providing me 
with the limbs I no longer have. Yet, at the same time she managed to remain 
herself. And she gets ever so horny from time to time.....

I would like to end my story here. There isn‰t much more to tell (and there isn‰t much 
more to amputate, either). I am probably the most happy person in the world. 
Everybody has his or her own definition of paradise, but I know what it entails for 
me. Leonard must be the most happy husband in the world, or so he incessantly 
assures me. Judging by how he behaves and reacts, I think he‰s telling the truth. 
Rita is slowly becoming more than just a personal assistant, developing more into 
the third member of our family. Polygamy isn‰t such a bad thing, you know. And she 
is starting to develop some ideas for modifications of her own body as well. 
Perhaps, some time in the future, she will relate her story to you, just as I did.

END