The College Girls

Part 5

The Conclusion

by Vicki

 

            As the semester passed I got more used to using my hooks in class. Taking notes got easier as did almost everything. Kellie and I had a pretty good social life and we became well accepted by the other able bodied students. Briana spent a lot of time with us and spent as much time as she could as a female. One day she came to our room to tell us something that would change her life.

            “I like being a female. I really hate being a male. I did some research and I think that I am transgendered,” she explained.

            I knew what that meant. Briana felt that she was in the wrong body. Kellie and I had our suspicions since Briana liked the female role more than just the added thrill it gave her when wearing her hooks.

            “I have been going to this doctor to talk about it. She specializes in gender dysphoria. That’s a condition where someone is uncomfortable in the gender they were born and needs to express themself in the opposite gender. She told me that there was no cure known. She said that I probably would never feel right as a male and that I should consider undergoing a sex reassignment. This kind of freaked me out, but I knew I really felt this way,” Briana continued.

            “Is this something you really want?” Kellie asked.

            “Yes, I think it is.”

            “How would you do it?” I asked.

            “Well Dr. Martin told me that the school has several transgender students that are living as the opposite gender and that the school is very understanding. She explained that I would need to discuss this with my parents and if they agreed I could start to live as a female after the mid semester break.”

            “Are you going to do it?” I asked.

            “Well I just don’t know what my parents will say, but I am very unhappy being a boy. I need to talk to them about it. Dr. Martin said that if I did this I would eventually be able to decide if I wanted to be permanently a female. Of course that would eventually require surgery. I would start out on female hormones to feminize my body and I would need electrolysis for my beard. I would have to let my hair grow, but I could wear a wig in the meantime. She said that there were some students living as girls that no one knew were actually genetic males. She was very understanding,” Briana explained.

            “So if you convince your parents you would come back in January and live as a girl,” I said.

            “That’s right.”

            “Did you tell her about the hooks?” Kellie asked.

            “God no! I was afraid that if I did that she would get totally freaked,” Briana said.

            “I think you should do it,” Kellie said.

            “Yeah, I guess so,” Briana said.

            Both Kellie and I knew that Briana would find a way. She really would make a very feminine girl. She had the body for it. Just a little more feminization and she would never be discovered unless she were undressed. Of course she wouldn’t have real breasts right away, but I knew that the hormones would develop her breasts and she could always have breast implants. That was relatively minor surgery and they could always be removed. If she actually did have sex reassignment surgery it would be a different story.

            The semester rapidly came to an end and I was happy I had lived as an armless girl without ever revealing my secret and getting along really well. It was time to head home for the break. I wasn’t excited about this since I would be forced to use my hands. I hadn’t used my hands at all for the entire semester. They were either encased in the sockets of my prosthesis or I was wearing my fake stumps.

            A real shock came when I was forced to use my hands again. I had to remove my hooks before we got home. I found that I had a real problem opening my hands. They wanted to curl up. They were weak and I couldn’t really use them very well. My parents noticed that my hands always curled up and I was having a lot of trouble holding things. What they didn’t know was that I avoided using my hands as much as possible and I never forced them to uncurl. At night I always wore my stumps to bed. They got very concerned. I explained that my hands kept getting worse during the semester. They insisted on taking me to the doctor.

            “Sandy seems to have some neurological damage to her hands,” the doctor said. I don’t know the cause. All we can hope is that it improves. I am going to give Sandy some exercises to do to attempt to resolve the problem.”

            It was then that I decided not to do the exercises. I didn’t want my hands to get better. I knew I was probably doing permanent damage, I wished I could use my hooks. I tried not to use my hands as much as possible. Kellie and I went out as much as possible and I did get to wear my hooks. When I did I felt more normal. We finally returned to school. My parents were very concerned about my condition. They were hoping I would get better before I came home for the summer.

            When Kel and I got back to school I was back in my hooks full time. I was so happy wearing them. I never used my hands. They stayed curled up 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, I always bathed in my stumps and when I did remove them I never uncurled my fingers.

            We were anxious to find out how Briana made out with her parents. We soon found out. There was a knock on our door and there stood Briana. We immediately realized that she was not hiding the fact that she was dressed as a girl. She looked great in a sleeveless tank top and a short skirt. She was wearing pantyhose and she had spectacular hair.

            “Wow, aren’t you the sexy new girl?” Kellie said.

            “Well things worked out a lot better than I anticipated. My parents contacted Dr. Martin and she referred us to another gender specialist. After we went to see him my parents realized that I needed help. They did everything to help me. I couldn’t believe it. They even arranged for my initial visit to an electrologist. I had laser hair removal. I will need more, but most of my facial hair is gone forever. The doctor has put me on female hormones. My sister helped me shop for new clothes. Of course I don’t have breasts yet, but the silicone forms look good, I think.”

            “They do. I can’t tell you don’t have real breasts,” I said. “Your hair looks fabulous.”

            “Well it should. I got this human hair wig custom made for me. It was incredibly expensive, but I don’t think anyone can tell it’s not my own hair,” Briana said.

            “It really looks good,” Kellie said. “So you can now be girl full time, wear pantyhose, makeup, and enjoy all the girl things we do. I see you have a short skirt too. Showing off your legs?” Kellie asked.

            “I love showing off my smooth shaved and pantyhose covered legs. God it’s fantastic to be able to be a girl all the time and not have to worry about keeping it a secret,” Briana said.

            “What about your hooks?” I asked.

            “Well that’s got to be a secret of course, but I still want to wear them when we go out, but I can hang with you guys as a girl all the time now. I can’t wait to go out shopping for some new bras. I plan on having implants as soon as I can, maybe before the semester is out. My parents said it is okay as long as I stay a girl for a long enough period to determine that I really want to be one. I do, of course.”

            It was kind of exciting to think that Briana’s wish was coming true. She could be a female full time now and enjoy her femininity. She still had a lot to learn about being a girl but we were sure she would start acting more and more female as the weeks passed. Being female was a lot more than just dressing that way or even having the right body. You had to think and act like a female all the time. No more guy stuff.

            The second semester was more fun than the first. Being totally accepted as an armless woman was something that I came to love. I never once thought about what it would be like to have hands. I liked using my hooks too much. Briana did continue to go out with us wearing her hooks. She became very proficient and was just about as good as Kellie and I were using our hooks.

            Before we knew it the end of the semester came. It was time to pack for home. I was very concerned about the condition of my hands. I had tried to use them once or twice and I found that they were now really bad. I couldn’t even open either one fully I seemed to have lost most of the feeling. I just couldn’t move my fingers very well. When I got home the first thing my parents made me do was to see Dr. March.

            “I just can’t understand this. I thought the exercises would work. It appears that a lot of permanent nerve damage has been done. I am not certain if anything can be done,” he said.

            “But Sandy is having so much trouble doing things. I don’t know how she managed in school,” my mother said. Little did she know that I got along quite well using my hooks.

            “There is a good possibility things will get worse with time. The condition seems completely degenerative,” Dr. March said.

            “She can’t live like this. She can’t function without hands,” my mother said.

            “Well there is one alternative,” Dr. March said.

            “What do you suggest?” my mother asked.

            “Well Sandy needs some form of functioning hands. This may be very difficult to consider, but if her hands were amputated just above the wrists she could be fitted with a prosthesis and then she would regain functionality,” Dr. March said. My mother started to cry.

            “Kellie does well with her hooks,” I said. “I guess I would get hooks too,” I said.

            “That’s what we usually recommend for bilateral arm amputees,” Dr. March said.

            “This is horrible. I know Sandy’s friend Kellie does okay, but I can’t imagine Sandy having her hands amputated. Just the thought of her needing hooks is almost too much for me to take,” my mother said.

            “Mom, it’s not the end of the world,” I said. “I need to be able to do things and my hands don’t seem to be working any more.”

            “You have as very courageous daughter,” Dr. March said.

            “Not really,” I replied. “It’s just that my friend Kellie and I are lifelong friends and roommates at school. She has two hooks and she gets along very well. I see how she uses them every day. I need to get over this and get on with things. If my hands are permanently useless than I want to get rid of them,” I said.

            “Are you sure hon?” my mother asked.

            “Yes. If Dr. March feels this is the right choice then we need to do it. When would you do it?” I asked.

            “As soon as you want,” he said.

            “Well I don’t want to wait. The longer I wait the more the worse I will feel,” I said lying. I really was more excited than anyone could imagine. I would be just like Kellie and I wouldn’t have to fake. If only my parents knew that I wanted this more than anything.

            Three days later I went in for the surgery. Kellie was there when I woke up. My two arms were bandaged. I could easily see that my hands were gone. I had to pretend to be devastated. I forced myself to cry. I think I was crying because I was so happy. I wanted the recovery period to be as fast as possible. I wanted to experience what it would be like to slip my two real stumps into the sockets of my new prosthesis.

            Later in the summer after not having the use of my arms I was finally ready to be fitted for my new hooks. My stumps were fairly well healed. Fortunately we went to a different prosthetist than the one who made my pretend hooks. Of course he had no idea I was an experienced hooks user.

            “Sandy, I know this is going to be difficult. Most patients find it difficult handling the idea that they will be using a hook instead of a hand. In your case you will have two hooks and that will make things more difficult, but you will be amazed at how well they will work,” he explained.

            “You don’t have to explain. I know all about hooks,” I said.

            “You do?” he asked with a little amazement.

            “Well my roommate Kellie has been using two hooks for several years. I see her every day with and without her hooks. I pretty much know everything about the way they work.”

            “I see. I suppose you know what you want as well?”

            “5X hooks with articulating wrists and maybe a contour hook I can switch to hold round things.” His jaw dropped.

            “My but you really do know about prosthetics.”

            “Well Kellie has told me what she thinks I should get. She should know. She knows first hand,” I explained. “I just want to get my hooks so I can start to function again. I am not like other patients who probably have never even seen a hook before. The thought of needing them really doesn’t bother me. My hands have been amputated and nothing can reverse that. I have accepted that.”

            When my hooks were ready I had to pretend I didn’t know how to use them. This was really hard since I was really just as good as any real amputee. Of course I was a real amputee now. I will never forget the thrill when the nurse slipped on a pair of stump socks and I inserted my stumps into the sockets of my new prosthesis. It felt so much better than when I had to insert my curled up hands in my old prosthesis. I tried to make it look like I couldn’t do things. When the nurse started to tell me how to open and close my hooks I wound up actually telling her better ways to do things. I had to explain about Kellie and that I knew how she did things. She seemed to buy that explanation although I think she couldn’t help wonder how I learned so fast.

            It felt so good to have real stumps inside my sockets. My arms were the proper length now. Things were actually easier because of that. I could even wear short sleeve or sleeveless tops now without the risk of revealing that I was not a real amputee. No one would have any doubt since my arm length was proper and my arms tapered down to a size at the wrist that would have made it impossible to have a hand curled up. It was wonderful to go to bed a night with my bare stumps. They felt so nice. I could touch my body with them now. I could feel things with my stumps. They were still very sensitive at the ends, but I knew they would continue to heal and be less sensitive with time.

            A few days later my parents took me out to dinner. I wore a sleeveless top to show off my prosthesis. I was so thrilled that now everyone would know with absolute certainty that I was a real amputee. My parents were amazed that I was able to eat my meal with no difficulty.

            “I can’t believe how easily you do things,” my mother said. “Isn’t it difficult?”

            “Well I have been watching Kellie for a long time and I just do things like she does. It’s really not that hard for some things,” I explained.

            “I still can’t accept that you will never have hands again,” my mother said. “Oh Sandy, I am so sorry you will need to use hooks from now on.”

            “I kind of like them. Sometimes it’s fun doing things with them.”

            My mother looked at me strangely. Later we went shopping and my mother helped me try on some clothes. I explained that there were some things I would always need help with. I loved every moment, especially being able to show off my new hooks. I always liked the reactions people had seeing me. I would never be a pretender again.

            It was so wonderful returning to school knowing that I no longer had a secret to protect. I made sure that on several occasions our friends came to our room when I was not wearing my hooks. That way they could see my two lovely stumps and that there would never be any doubt that I was an arm amputee like Kellie. I kept my secret for a full year and now there was no secret to keep. Kellie and I were still lovers, but little by little we got more interested in boys. More guys now found us really attractive and we had a lot of dates. I never worried about being intimate. If a guy wanted me to take off my prosthesis I was proud to let him see my two stumps.

            The big shock was Briana. While I was having my arms amputated and being fitted with my hooks, Briana was undergoing sex reassignment surgery and breast implants. She was so excited when she took off her clothes and showed us her full breasts and her new vagina. We noticed that when she pulled down her panties there was a Kotex pad in the crotch of her panties.

            “Briana, why the pad? You can’t have a period,” I asked.

            “Well no, but I have to wear a pad for a few months. I have a slight seepage due to the surgery. Just like you guys I don’t want to spot through my clothes,” she explained.

            “Why don’t you wear a tampon like we do,” Kellie asked.

            “Well the doctor told me not to. Something about infection. He said pads would be better. I guess I know how you guys feel with your periods. It is a pain to run to the ladies room every few hours to change it though. I like to wear Kotex ultra thin maxi pads. They look better since you can barely see the outline under your panties,” Briana said as we all laughed. “I just love to look between my legs and see that I am perfectly smooth there. You guys won’t appreciate this, but it’s more comfortable with nothing between your legs, especially when you cross them.”

            “Welcome to our world,” Kellie said. “The things guys don’t understand. Pads are so gross though.”

            “Yeah, I know. They make me feel really feminine though. I wish I could have a period like you guys do. I think I might be a little disappointed when I stop flowing.”

            “Well you could always have a pretend period and wear a tampon when it’s your time of the month,” I said. We all laughed.

            “One other advantage we girls have is that we can get as turned on as we want and no one can tell. Guys have to be careful or they can give away their excitement,” Briana said. We all laughed. Every girl has seen boys in that state at one time or another.

            Her vagina was perfect and I doubted anyone would ever detect that she wasn’t born a female. She loved to display her sexuality. She still wore her hooks once in a while, but she seemed to enjoy wearing skimpy sleeveless tops that showed off her cleavage. By the middle of the year she stopped wearing her wig. Her hair was long enough to be styled. When she first appeared in her short natural hair she just explained that she got tired of long hair and wanted something shorter. The last artificial element of her transformation was gone. She was all girl now and she certainly had the body to prove it. She admitted that we still turned her on, but little by little she started to experience relationships with boys. We knew that having sex the first time as a female was something that would confirm that she was now a woman in every respect.

            “Can I ask you a personal question?” I asked.

            “Sure,” Briana said.

            “Well do you get turned on down there like we do?”

            “Oh God yes. It’s not the same as when I was a guy, but I am sure I feel pretty much the way you do down there,” Briana explained. “I can masturbate of course. I have had lots of orgasms.”

            “It’s a nice feeling,” I said.

            “It sure is,” Briana replied. “One thing I really like about being a girl is if I get turned on no one knows. I can get totally turned on and it’s my secret.” We all knew exactly what she meant although Kellie and I could never know what it must be like for a guy to get excited and worry about what’s between his legs.

            A lot of guys thought she was one of the hottest girls on campus. She never lacked for dates. We were one of only a few that knew she was once a guy. When she went full time she changed her name and everyone thought she was a new student and that Brian had dropped out of school.

            A few weeks later Briana told us she had sex as a girl for the first time. She had a boyfriend.

            “Wow, it was fantastic,” she said. “I still can’t get over the fact that he was inside me. I think having sex as a girl is so much cooler.” We knew what she meant. “I had an unimaginable orgasm.”

            One of the things we liked to do best with Briana was to shop for lingerie. Briana just loved to buy bras and panties. She loved the look of the smooth contour between her legs when she wore her panties. No bulges, just the normal feminine outline. Of course her full breasts now needed a good bra. She couldn’t go without a bra unless she had a top with some support built in. She did like tops with tiny straps that were very low cut. I think she even liked showing off her bra straps. We knew she loved her breasts like we did ours. Nothing is more feminine and we couldn’t blame her for showing off her assets.

            Melanie and Beth continued to hang out with us. Both had new boyfriends. Beth had found a really great guy who didn’t mind that she was blind. She was always with him. I think he liked letting her hold his arm as they went around. She didn’t have to use her cane that way. She told me she liked to go out without her cane and pretend she wasn’t blind. Except for some things that gave her away now and then, she could appear normal with her boyfriend. Of course she would never know what he looked like, but we all told her that he was cute, which he was.

            Melanie also found a guy that liked her in spite of her braces. She went out with him a lot using her wheelchair. That way she could wear pantyhose and a short skirt and show off her legs. In spite of the atrophy she still had pretty nice legs. Her boyfriend liked to push her wheelchair and lift her into regular chairs. He liked her for who she was and her handicap didn’t make a difference.

            By the time we graduated I was so used to being an arm amputee that I had forgotten what it was like having hands. My parents were no longer devastated by the fact that I had lost my hands. My hooks were just part of my personality now and they were used to me using them. It was like they didn’t exist. Kellie and I were very happy. Our handicaps didn’t seem to matter. For me I liked having hooks. I knew Kellie probably didn’t, but it was just part of our lives. After the ceremony we met our parents and held our diplomas in our hooks to show them. Everyone was happy and we knew we were destined to have wonderful lives.

            Briana graduated with us and was engaged. She was so totally feminine now that it was just about impossible to even think that she was once a male since she was so totally feminine. Our final departure was mixed with emotions as we said goodbye to our handicapped friends. Melanie and Beth were just as excited as we were and there was no doubt that they would live happy lives as well in spite of their handicaps.

            As for me I was as happy as I could be. I never regretted having my hands amputated. The thrill of needing my two hooks never wore off. I never seemed to mind that there were some things I couldn’t do. Living my life with my two hooks was something I loved more than anything. I never once considered getting myoelectric arms. They would never be as functional and certainly wouldn’t have the look I loved about hooks. I wanted people to know I had no hands. I was special.

The End