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Description
After a very exhausting drive across the country, we check in to our motel and sleep in until almost midday the next day. Jason washes us both and then takes us out to find some food. We find a café where brunch is served all day. Jason slides into a chair beside me and holds up a menu for us both to read. I love this sharing. I decide on Eggs Benedict and Jace goes for a full breakfast, we are both exhausted and ravenous.

Whilst we are waiting for our meals to arrive we do some people watching. There is a group of cyclists getting ready to head off and we both realise that one of the cyclists has a prosthetic leg. I can't breathe at the sight of his amputation and neither can Jace. He sees us staring and comes over to chat. He introduces himself as a congenital LBK. I smile and nod replying accidental DAE and DAK. I've always wished to say that. “You seem to handle it well?” “Been a long time now, almost two years...” I say. He nods and wishes us both all the best as he rides off.

“I feel like I was just initiated into a secret club” I breath. “I wish” is Jason’s unguarded reply before he snaps out of his trance and smiles at me. “Well I think that was successful, I don't think he had any doubts about your ‘amputations’.” “Really? I was so nervous, afraid he'd realise I was a fraud.” “Jace I need them all gone”. “I know Zoh; I know”. Jason calms me as he rubs his hand along my abbreviated leg.

We return to the motel and Jason bundles me in to the car and puts the chair in the back and we are off to go shopping. He won’t tell me what for saying it is a surprise. Sure enough we pull up out the front of a disability aid store. “I thought it was time you had an electric wheelchair so that you can go out during the day if you want.” I laugh at him and he looks back hurt and confused. “Jace, I can’t open a door so it won’t really help having an electric wheelchair now will it?” With that he laughs too and says not to count my chickens until they’ve hatched. The man is incorrigible.

We pick out a sporty chair which won’t take up too much space or be too heavy. Once again I am concerned about being found out. As Jace lifts me from one chair to the other I am worried that someone will realise that I have bent limbs hidden under my dress. But they are more concerned with the fit and ensuring that I am comfortable. They teach me how to work the chair with my elbow and let me drive around for a bit to get some experience. As they don’t have one in stock they order it in and agree to have it delivered to our motel once it arrives.

----------

Weeks pass by, Jason has settled in to his new position and I am back at work, communicating online with my office back in Perth. Jason has gone today to the Real Estate agents to collect the keys on his way back from work and then he collects me and we head to our new home. Jason parks in the garage beside the flat and then picks me up and carries me over to our new front door. He opens it and carries me over the threshold.

“Welcome to our new home baby!” he says as he kisses me. “Thank you honey!” I throw my arm stubs around his neck and hold him tight. When we both come up for a breath I suggest he put me down so I can explore. He does so and shows me the front door. It has an electric lock fitted with a button on the wall, low where I can reach it. Jason explains that he will also attach a button to my chair so that when I reach the door I just have to press that and the door will open, much like an automatic roller door. This means that I can come and go whenever I like, or receive guests or deliveries, whilst he is at work.

Whilst I am studying this he races off to check everything else out. When he gets back to me he is grinning. “There is something I need to show you” he tells me as he once again scoops me up in to his arms and walks down the hallway to the ensuite bathroom. Once we are inside he puts me down and remarks “Ta da!” The bathroom is huge, with a double shower and a hole in the floor instead of a toilet. It’s a squat toilet with a bidet attached so that you can take yourself to the toilet and not have to wait for me to lift you up. The shower also has controls down low that you can use your chin or shoulder to operate” I can’t hold back the tears at this man’s inventiveness and thoughtfulness. There is nothing he hasn’t thought of to make my life as a quad amputee more comfortable. I can’t thank him enough.

The removalists arrive whilst I am still exploring our new home in my electric wheelchair. I am able to direct them to put furniture in locations and I ponder how I am going to use any of this furniture now that I will be living my life permanently limbless.

----------

My limbs have never been bound for such a long period of time without releasing, stretching and rubbing and it suddenly occurs to me that I can't remember the last time I felt them. Jason was changing my bindings and realised that my hands were grey. He touched them and squeezed them and there was no response, I felt nothing. He refused to refit me in the bindings, but even after five hours there was no sign of life in my appendages.

Lying in bed later I weigh up how I feel now that we have reached the point of no return. There is nothing on the internet to prepare me for this. I have read about blood clots and poor circulation but I don't know whether this is dangerous or not. Jason is equally concerned, he only refitted the bindings as he read that sometimes it is the releasing of the constricted body part that releases the toxins in to the body.

He feels we now need to seek medical attention. Hopefully they can't save them and they might now consider amputation if they are dead. I am too frightened that they will separate us and lock us away. We decide to wait and see. I am not feeling any pain, in fact I am not feeling anything at all and I am loving our new life, I don’t want to do anything that might change it, unless it means I would be permanently limbless.

----------

I am loving this new life and how easily we have transcended into me being a quad amputee. Six months in Jason takes me out for dinner to celebrate the success of our new life. We head to a restaurant within walking distance, but Jason insists on taking my folding manual chair. It is very romantic with him pushing me, and I am so excited to be able to share this with him. He pushes me through the restaurant in my wheelchair and we attract a lot of interest. Most are probably wondering why I need the chair until they see the stumps of my arms and the empty front of my chair. I am wearing a black lace mini dress Jace loves. He dressed me, even fitting me in stockings, rolling them over at the top so that they fit well over my knees, then he pulled up the sleeves of the dress so that my elbows are only just visible out the bottom of them, giving a glimpse of skin and the impression of a stump. Jason loves being able to see my stumps exposed and ensures that all my clothes reveal a glimpse wherever possible.

Dinner is very romantic and we discuss our future together. “Are you happy to live like this since we still haven’t been able to find a doctor to perform the surgery?” he asks “I guess I don’t really have a choice do I? It’s not like we can walk in to a hospital and demand they take off my dead limbs without creating a problem for ourselves in another way.”

“I know…” he replies “I’ve been thinking about that… What if we went to Thailand to one of those clinics that do sex change operations. When they see your limbs they would probably readily remove the dead parts… they might even take off the lot if we ask…?” He suggests. “Do you really think we could?” I am sitting on the edge of my chair, almost bouncing with excitement. It is not something I have considered, but obviously Jason has put some thought in to it. “There’s only one way to find out…” he grins and winks at me.

-------------

Jason and I research hospitals in Thailand that perform sex change operations in the hope of seeking out a sympathetic doctor. He is scratching his eye when he stops and screams. I figured he has stabbed himself accidentally but he isn’t squinting. He is bouncing around the room. “I’ve found one!” trolling the web to find operations conducted by Thai doctors that might be similar to what we are seeking and finds one who ‘accidentally’ removed a ladies leg.

Jason writes to the doctor explaining the procedures we are interested in. A few weeks later we receive an email from him. He asks lots of questions of me and asks me to send him videos and photos of my contorted limbs to show him what we require. When he calls we can hear the intrigue in his voice. He asks us to give him two weeks and he will be in touch again.

Jason thinks that he might hire a private detective to follow us and research us so says I need to be visible in the next two weeks, living as independently and confidently as possible. We do so, dining out, going shopping, to the movies.

Finally we receive an email from the doctor stating that he should be able to assist us with our request for liposuction and breast augmentation. I am confused but Jason believes this is their way of covering their tracks.

We plan to go to back west after the operation. Jason has informed his work that after six months here we are homesick and keen to go back to our families and friends and has requested a transfer. There is an opening at the same level as he was on when there previously. This will work in well with my recovery time and our relocating back home. I can’t wait. I email my boss know I am returning and will be able to work out of the office again if he is interested and he writes back almost instantly stating that he is looking forward to seeing me back in the office again.

We put our unit on the market. It will have a limited consumer base with the changes that have been made, so Jason suggests to the real estate agents to advertise in hospital rehabilitation wards. Sure enough we have our first inspection within weeks, an amputee, a dhd from what I can tell, or close enough to it. They would be crazy not to purchase the place considering all the changes that have been introduced that will benefit them.

Jason has packed up much of our stuff by now in anticipation of having it shipped back west when we return there after the operation in Thailand. Jason has bought a unit that his parents inspected for us. He can then fix it up to suit my needs when I am recovering after my operation. He doesn’t want to start making changes until we get home so that we can assess how dependent on him I will be and what I can do on my own. It is also to prevent people from realising that we had planned all of this.

We are packing our bags and it occurs to me that airport security might x-ray me at the airport which will reveal a few more limbs than I usually have. I worry that they might think that Jason and I are drug mules. Jason sends off an email request for a letter from the doctor explaining I have a degenerative limb problem that has crippled me. Hopefully we shouldn’t have a problem. It is really happening. After all this time pretending, all this time of dreaming and wishing, and we are off to have my limbs removed.

----------

We fly to Thailand and meet with the surgeon. When I am taken in for my appointment with the surgeon he asks Jason to wait outside. He removes my clothing and studies my limbs. He is quite shocked at the state of them, and asks lots of questions about circulation, pain, and more. He then introduces me to a psychiatrist who is here to ensure that I am doing this for the right reason. I think he needs to know that Jason hasn’t forced me in to this against my will.

I chat with him for a couple of hours and fill him in on my history of wanting to be limbless. I explain about pretending on my own for many years before finding Jace. I fill him in on our playing together and then my insistence that I had to live this way. I also point out that I want no limbs, to be totally disarticulated and it is only because of Jason’s insistence that I have kept the short arm stumps instead of binding them to my back as I would have preferred.

Once I have finished with the psychiatrist I am returned to the surgeon to discuss the location of the amputations. I once again request to be made into a torso with disarticulations of the hips and shoulders. He is not willing to go that extreme first time and suggests instead that he amputate above the knee and the elbow. I am discouraged that I have come this far to still be thwarted in my attempt at becoming my ideal body shape. I explain to him my desire to be an immovable torso with no appendages at all.

We look at some different workups of my body and discuss the length of each amputation. I show him the photos that Jason has created of me limbless. I explain I am in to symmetry and do not want to end up with some limbs longer than others. Soon enough he agrees to remove my legs, leaving only 20cms of femur below my hips to assist with mobility and sitting, pointing out that as a full disarticulate I would not be able to sit without a bucket. I don’t care, I would be more than happy with that outcome, but he is still hesitant. I am no more successful with my arms, I try to convince him to remove my arms at the shoulders but he insists that he cut them off just above the elbow to allow for something to provide movement. It would also prevent me from squashing my breasts all the time when on my front and save me from smothering myself.

I argue my case with him for nearly an hour at which time he agrees to take off the rest of my arms and legs in six months if I still don’t want them.

This is it. In less than twenty four hours I will be a real quad amputee. For so long I have wanted this and now it is finally happening.

Description
After a very exhausting drive across the country, we check in to our motel and sleep in until almost midday the next day. Jason washes us both and then takes us out to find some food. We find a café where brunch is served all day. Jason slides into a chair beside me and holds up a menu for us both to read. I love this sharing. I decide on Eggs Benedict and Jace goes for a full breakfast, we are both exhausted and ravenous.

Whilst we are waiting for our meals to arrive we do some people watching. There is a group of cyclists getting ready to head off and we both realise that one of the cyclists has a prosthetic leg. I can't breathe at the sight of his amputation and neither can Jace. He sees us staring and comes over to chat. He introduces himself as a congenital LBK. I smile and nod replying accidental DAE and DAK. I've always wished to say that. “You seem to handle it well?” “Been a long time now, almost two years...” I say. He nods and wishes us both all the best as he rides off.

“I feel like I was just initiated into a secret club” I breath. “I wish” is Jason’s unguarded reply before he snaps out of his trance and smiles at me. “Well I think that was successful, I don't think he had any doubts about your ‘amputations’.” “Really? I was so nervous, afraid he'd realise I was a fraud.” “Jace I need them all gone”. “I know Zoh; I know”. Jason calms me as he rubs his hand along my abbreviated leg.

We return to the motel and Jason bundles me in to the car and puts the chair in the back and we are off to go shopping. He won’t tell me what for saying it is a surprise. Sure enough we pull up out the front of a disability aid store. “I thought it was time you had an electric wheelchair so that you can go out during the day if you want.” I laugh at him and he looks back hurt and confused. “Jace, I can’t open a door so it won’t really help having an electric wheelchair now will it?” With that he laughs too and says not to count my chickens until they’ve hatched. The man is incorrigible.

We pick out a sporty chair which won’t take up too much space or be too heavy. Once again I am concerned about being found out. As Jace lifts me from one chair to the other I am worried that someone will realise that I have bent limbs hidden under my dress. But they are more concerned with the fit and ensuring that I am comfortable. They teach me how to work the chair with my elbow and let me drive around for a bit to get some experience. As they don’t have one in stock they order it in and agree to have it delivered to our motel once it arrives.

----------

Weeks pass by, Jason has settled in to his new position and I am back at work, communicating online with my office back in Perth. Jason has gone today to the Real Estate agents to collect the keys on his way back from work and then he collects me and we head to our new home. Jason parks in the garage beside the flat and then picks me up and carries me over to our new front door. He opens it and carries me over the threshold.

“Welcome to our new home baby!” he says as he kisses me. “Thank you honey!” I throw my arm stubs around his neck and hold him tight. When we both come up for a breath I suggest he put me down so I can explore. He does so and shows me the front door. It has an electric lock fitted with a button on the wall, low where I can reach it. Jason explains that he will also attach a button to my chair so that when I reach the door I just have to press that and the door will open, much like an automatic roller door. This means that I can come and go whenever I like, or receive guests or deliveries, whilst he is at work.

Whilst I am studying this he races off to check everything else out. When he gets back to me he is grinning. “There is something I need to show you” he tells me as he once again scoops me up in to his arms and walks down the hallway to the ensuite bathroom. Once we are inside he puts me down and remarks “Ta da!” The bathroom is huge, with a double shower and a hole in the floor instead of a toilet. It’s a squat toilet with a bidet attached so that you can take yourself to the toilet and not have to wait for me to lift you up. The shower also has controls down low that you can use your chin or shoulder to operate” I can’t hold back the tears at this man’s inventiveness and thoughtfulness. There is nothing he hasn’t thought of to make my life as a quad amputee more comfortable. I can’t thank him enough.

The removalists arrive whilst I am still exploring our new home in my electric wheelchair. I am able to direct them to put furniture in locations and I ponder how I am going to use any of this furniture now that I will be living my life permanently limbless.

----------

My limbs have never been bound for such a long period of time without releasing, stretching and rubbing and it suddenly occurs to me that I can't remember the last time I felt them. Jason was changing my bindings and realised that my hands were grey. He touched them and squeezed them and there was no response, I felt nothing. He refused to refit me in the bindings, but even after five hours there was no sign of life in my appendages.

Lying in bed later I weigh up how I feel now that we have reached the point of no return. There is nothing on the internet to prepare me for this. I have read about blood clots and poor circulation but I don't know whether this is dangerous or not. Jason is equally concerned, he only refitted the bindings as he read that sometimes it is the releasing of the constricted body part that releases the toxins in to the body.

He feels we now need to seek medical attention. Hopefully they can't save them and they might now consider amputation if they are dead. I am too frightened that they will separate us and lock us away. We decide to wait and see. I am not feeling any pain, in fact I am not feeling anything at all and I am loving our new life, I don’t want to do anything that might change it, unless it means I would be permanently limbless.

----------

I am loving this new life and how easily we have transcended into me being a quad amputee. Six months in Jason takes me out for dinner to celebrate the success of our new life. We head to a restaurant within walking distance, but Jason insists on taking my folding manual chair. It is very romantic with him pushing me, and I am so excited to be able to share this with him. He pushes me through the restaurant in my wheelchair and we attract a lot of interest. Most are probably wondering why I need the chair until they see the stumps of my arms and the empty front of my chair. I am wearing a black lace mini dress Jace loves. He dressed me, even fitting me in stockings, rolling them over at the top so that they fit well over my knees, then he pulled up the sleeves of the dress so that my elbows are only just visible out the bottom of them, giving a glimpse of skin and the impression of a stump. Jason loves being able to see my stumps exposed and ensures that all my clothes reveal a glimpse wherever possible.

Dinner is very romantic and we discuss our future together. “Are you happy to live like this since we still haven’t been able to find a doctor to perform the surgery?” he asks “I guess I don’t really have a choice do I? It’s not like we can walk in to a hospital and demand they take off my dead limbs without creating a problem for ourselves in another way.”

“I know…” he replies “I’ve been thinking about that… What if we went to Thailand to one of those clinics that do sex change operations. When they see your limbs they would probably readily remove the dead parts… they might even take off the lot if we ask…?” He suggests. “Do you really think we could?” I am sitting on the edge of my chair, almost bouncing with excitement. It is not something I have considered, but obviously Jason has put some thought in to it. “There’s only one way to find out…” he grins and winks at me.

-------------

Jason and I research hospitals in Thailand that perform sex change operations in the hope of seeking out a sympathetic doctor. He is scratching his eye when he stops and screams. I figured he has stabbed himself accidentally but he isn’t squinting. He is bouncing around the room. “I’ve found one!” trolling the web to find operations conducted by Thai doctors that might be similar to what we are seeking and finds one who ‘accidentally’ removed a ladies leg.

Jason writes to the doctor explaining the procedures we are interested in. A few weeks later we receive an email from him. He asks lots of questions of me and asks me to send him videos and photos of my contorted limbs to show him what we require. When he calls we can hear the intrigue in his voice. He asks us to give him two weeks and he will be in touch again.

Jason thinks that he might hire a private detective to follow us and research us so says I need to be visible in the next two weeks, living as independently and confidently as possible. We do so, dining out, going shopping, to the movies.

Finally we receive an email from the doctor stating that he should be able to assist us with our request for liposuction and breast augmentation. I am confused but Jason believes this is their way of covering their tracks.

We plan to go to back west after the operation. Jason has informed his work that after six months here we are homesick and keen to go back to our families and friends and has requested a transfer. There is an opening at the same level as he was on when there previously. This will work in well with my recovery time and our relocating back home. I can’t wait. I email my boss know I am returning and will be able to work out of the office again if he is interested and he writes back almost instantly stating that he is looking forward to seeing me back in the office again.

We put our unit on the market. It will have a limited consumer base with the changes that have been made, so Jason suggests to the real estate agents to advertise in hospital rehabilitation wards. Sure enough we have our first inspection within weeks, an amputee, a dhd from what I can tell, or close enough to it. They would be crazy not to purchase the place considering all the changes that have been introduced that will benefit them.

Jason has packed up much of our stuff by now in anticipation of having it shipped back west when we return there after the operation in Thailand. Jason has bought a unit that his parents inspected for us. He can then fix it up to suit my needs when I am recovering after my operation. He doesn’t want to start making changes until we get home so that we can assess how dependent on him I will be and what I can do on my own. It is also to prevent people from realising that we had planned all of this.

We are packing our bags and it occurs to me that airport security might x-ray me at the airport which will reveal a few more limbs than I usually have. I worry that they might think that Jason and I are drug mules. Jason sends off an email request for a letter from the doctor explaining I have a degenerative limb problem that has crippled me. Hopefully we shouldn’t have a problem. It is really happening. After all this time pretending, all this time of dreaming and wishing, and we are off to have my limbs removed.

----------

We fly to Thailand and meet with the surgeon. When I am taken in for my appointment with the surgeon he asks Jason to wait outside. He removes my clothing and studies my limbs. He is quite shocked at the state of them, and asks lots of questions about circulation, pain, and more. He then introduces me to a psychiatrist who is here to ensure that I am doing this for the right reason. I think he needs to know that Jason hasn’t forced me in to this against my will.

I chat with him for a couple of hours and fill him in on my history of wanting to be limbless. I explain about pretending on my own for many years before finding Jace. I fill him in on our playing together and then my insistence that I had to live this way. I also point out that I want no limbs, to be totally disarticulated and it is only because of Jason’s insistence that I have kept the short arm stumps instead of binding them to my back as I would have preferred.

Once I have finished with the psychiatrist I am returned to the surgeon to discuss the location of the amputations. I once again request to be made into a torso with disarticulations of the hips and shoulders. He is not willing to go that extreme first time and suggests instead that he amputate above the knee and the elbow. I am discouraged that I have come this far to still be thwarted in my attempt at becoming my ideal body shape. I explain to him my desire to be an immovable torso with no appendages at all.

We look at some different workups of my body and discuss the length of each amputation. I show him the photos that Jason has created of me limbless. I explain I am in to symmetry and do not want to end up with some limbs longer than others. Soon enough he agrees to remove my legs, leaving only 20cms of femur below my hips to assist with mobility and sitting, pointing out that as a full disarticulate I would not be able to sit without a bucket. I don’t care, I would be more than happy with that outcome, but he is still hesitant. I am no more successful with my arms, I try to convince him to remove my arms at the shoulders but he insists that he cut them off just above the elbow to allow for something to provide movement. It would also prevent me from squashing my breasts all the time when on my front and save me from smothering myself.

I argue my case with him for nearly an hour at which time he agrees to take off the rest of my arms and legs in six months if I still don’t want them.

This is it. In less than twenty four hours I will be a real quad amputee. For so long I have wanted this and now it is finally happening.