Chapter Nine – Tami’s Realization

 

            After four months I was completely comfortable using my hooks. I did everything I usually did. I no longer had any concerns about how I looked. I liked the way I looked wearing my hooks. I loved the feeling of being an arm amputee. My time was mainly occupied with rehearsals for the movie. I always had my hooks on and everyone got used to them. I knew those that knew I really had hands even forgot at times that I did.

            During the periods when my real hands were washed and my nails were trimmed I found it almost impossible to open my hands without a lot of pain. They were so used to being curled up that it was not natural for them to be any other way. I knew they were rapidly becoming useless. I was sure the muscles and joints were affected and that I would have to work to make my hands functional should I no longer use my hooks. I started to resent having hands. They were a pain. I sometimes thought I wanted nice smooth round stumps that I knew would be comfortable in sockets designed for real stumps. My boyfriend was totally used to my hooks by now and I thought that he really liked me that way. He always kept saying how sexy they made me look.

            An incident occurred that I think was the deciding factor in what was to come. I drove myself to my prosthetist to have a minor adjustment made to the friction setting on my left hook. It was rotating too easily. When I entered the waiting room I immediately noticed a girl of around seventeen or eighteen. She was with a guy I took to be her boyfriend. She was sitting there with just two short arm stumps. Her arms were amputated a few inches below her shoulders. I wondered if she was a recent amputee and was there to get her first pair of hooks. I couldn’t help staring at her stumps. I soon realized that she couldn’t be a recent amputee since her stumps were very smooth and obviously her amputations had to have been performed a long time ago.

            “Hi, I’m Karen,” the girl said. “I don’t see too many bilats like me. Are you recent?”

            “Yes. I’m Tami. Just a few months now,” I replied.

            “Tough at first isn’t it?” Karen said.

            “Yeah, it sure takes some getting used to,” I lied.

            “Well I lost my arms when I was two years old so I don’t even remember what having arms was like. It’s like I never had any to begin with,” Karen said.

            “I am really sorry,”

            “Don’t be. I do fine with my prosthesis,” Karen said. “I use hooks like you. I am having some repairs done. They should be ready in a few minutes. You’re a BE aren’t you?”

            “Yes. I guess I have it a lot easier than you do,” I said.

            “Yeah, elbows really help,” Karen said. “Even though I am really good with my feet as well as my hooks I still need a lot of help. I always will. This is my boyfriend Phil.”

            “Hi Phil,” I said. “I’m Tami.”

            “Hi,” Phil said sheepishly.

            Karen was dressed like any other teen. She had on a sleeveless top, which surprised me a little, and jeans. I would have thought she would want to cover up her prosthesis. I guess she had been like this for so many years that she probably didn’t care.

            “I have heard that a lot of people who lose their arms at a very young age never use prosthetics. What made you decide to use them?” I asked.

            “Well when I was two I was fitted with a pair of hooks. Even though I did most things with my feet I had to wear my hooks all the time. I guess I just started to use them since they were there. When I started school I was really good with them. Now I wouldn’t even think of not using them. Besides, they make me feel a little like I really have arms. People get kind of weirded out when they see my pros, but who cares. I like sleeveless tops. I can get into and out of them myself. I can’t do that with long sleeves.”

            Something about Karen was making me envious. She was so well adapted and I thought her stumps were beautiful in a strange  way. A moment later the prosthetist came out.

            “Karen, your arms are ready, come on in and you can put them on. Tami, come on in too. I am sure Karen won’t mind,” he said.

            Karen and I followed him into the shop. He immediately helped Karen slip out of her top. I noticed she had very full breasts and was wearing a conventional bra with demi cups that fastened in back.

            “Can you put your bra on?” Karen asked me.

            “I have done it by using my hooks to get the bra band around me and fastened. I can then slip off my hooks and put my stumps through the straps and work them up. I can then put my hooks back on. A pain so I only do it when I don’t have someone to help me,” I explained.

            “I don’t think I could ever do that,” Karen said. “I always need help dressing. Getting my panties up and down is about all I can do. I can’t even put on a coat by myself. Sometimes I hate needing help, but once I am dressed I can do the important things.”

            The prosthetist slipped a pair of stump socks over Karen’s beautiful stumps and helped her get into her hooks. I watched as she slipped her tiny stumps into her sockets. I saw her elbow joints and the extra control cables she used to lock and unlock them. He then helped her with her top. She raised and lowered her arms and opened and closed her hooks to make sure everything was in order. She did this so naturally. I became very aroused watching her. At that moment I would have done anything to be her.

            “Great, they work perfectly. Thanks. Well Tami, good luck. Welcome to our unique club,” Karen said laughing. “Maybe we will hook up again some time.”

            I was amazed that she could joke about being so handicapped. I guess being that way for years makes a difference. It was my turn and a few minutes later I was able to leave with my left hook working perfectly. As I drove home I kept thinking about Karen. I found myself thinking about what it would be like to get rid of my hands and have real stumps. The more I thought the more I felt it would be something I wouldn’t regret. I knew I liked using my hooks and I didn’t think I would ever care about having hands if it came to that.

            I made a spur of the moment decision and decided to get my hair done. I headed for my usual salon. For the next two hours I lavished myself with a new cut and style. I had a pedicure and had my toes polished. All the while I sat and thought about how much I liked my hooks. I liked being this was for all the world to see. Of course people couldn’t help seeing my two shiny hooks. The stylist knew me as a regular.

            “You know Tami I am amazed at how you use those hooks. At times I forget they are not hands. You use them so naturally. At first I thought you were really handicapped, now you do things so easily it’s hard to detect that you have any handicap at all,” she said.

            “You are used to these,” I said holding up my two hooks. “Most people aren’t.”

            I left the salon feeling extremely feminine and sexy. That night I got together with Mike for dinner.

            “Mike, what would you say if I was to become a real arm amputee? Would you still love me?”

            “Are you kidding? I will always love you. Besides, you know I think your hooks are the sexiest thing since sliced bread.”

            I didn’t think sliced bread was sexy, but I knew Mike was serious. He really did like my hooks. That night I dreamed of becoming a real arm amputee. I dreamed of what it would be like to have two beautiful rounded stumps. In the morning I realized that I wanted to have my arms amputated more than anything else in the world. I wanted to need my hooks for the rest of my life. The question was, how could I do it? I knew I would find a way. There had to be a way.

 

Chapter 10