Influence, Tales of the Device

By Peggy Buxton

Mabel Warner was in her mid thirties when she attended the funeral for her father. It was the first time she had met his girlfriend. Gail Walker was ten years older than he, about her mother's age. He had a thing for older women, or they for younger men. It was not clear. Gail was missing a leg. The few days cleaning out the apartment was a life changing experience.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Peggy Buxton
• Release date: Nov 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310858192

Peggy Buxton

Author, wife, lover, and amputee. I have been missing my left leg for years. Growing up I felt that it should not be there, and it is has been a blessing to have it gone. Today's term for this condition is BIID and in the past simply referred to as being a 'wannabe'. I am a full-time crutch user. Like my husband, I find amputees fascinating. 'Devotee' is the frequently used term. My stories have characters that mirror my life in some manner - wanted/needed to be an amputee or want to live with an amputee. I make no apology for my descriptions of these people and there is no intent to take away from the suffering of some amputees. I love feedback on the stories, but I cannot promise to reply.

Book preview

Chapter 1 - Prologue

Mabel Warner was an odd name. I had grown up with it and never bothered changing it. It seemed old and rural. Many made fun of it during my early school years.

I did not visit my mother often after Dad, and I moved away during high school. There was no reason other than we were never close. She had her whiskey and men, more of each than I carried to know about. I suspected there were evenings with several men, maybe at the same time. When she and Dad were still married, I had heard the rumors.

Dad was years younger than Mom. She liked her men that way. Before her, he did not have much luck with women, and she was eager to get him in bed. A year later I came along, and he was still plowing her field. When I was old enough to know, I would still hear her moans though the wall. I no longer worried he was hurting her.

She would go away on business trips. I knew there was more going on. As I grew older, Dad and I would talk about life. Don’t be like her he would often say. Eventually, he told me about the many affairs and the group sex. I could tell he was fed up. He moved away with me in tow.

Through high school and long after, he dated two different women. Gail Walker was older than Mom, plus she was missing a leg. They made each other happy in many ways. Dad would make it seem they just happened to meet, that the leg had nothing to do with their relationship. Then there was Susan Ward. She was closer to Dad’s age but younger, and beautiful. I often wondered how Gail and Susan felt knowing they were not alone keeping Dad satisfied.

They both attended Dad’s funeral, even sat next to the other. I guess they had made amends over those last years. I had never had a chance to truly get to know either until we walked from the cemetery. I was thirty-five, and was there for just a few days to help settle his estate.

Chapter 2 - Lunch with Gail

I noticed Gail and Susan walking in separate directions to different cars. It made sense that they did not come together. Susan drove off. Gail stopped, turned, then waited for me.

I’m so sorry, I said, giving Gail a slight hug.

He was such a good man.

Mom made his life hell, I guess. I’m glad he had your love.

And Susan’s. Gail smiled. If you’re up for some lunch, we can talk.

It was after the lunchtime rush when we sat in the booth at the nearby diner. The place was empty and probably ready to close soon. The waitress looked pained as she took our orders. She returned and filled both cups with coffee.

How did that work...you and Susan?

She was a distraction. He didn’t spend much time with her. He had a thing for the older ladies, but never gave up feeling he should be with women his age.

I had an idea about that because Mom was much older, and I caught him looking mostly at older women.

I suspect I could have been eighty, and he’d still have been after me.

Forgive me if this comes out wrong, but was any of it because of the leg?

I doubt many people knew about his interests in amputee ladies. I never told anyone. Maybe I shouldn’t be now. I think it is fair for you to know. You’ll probably find stuff at his place that, would...well, make you question things...pictures and all. He was afraid of dying suddenly, and having others finding his collection of pictures and movies.

Of?

The waitress returned with two hamburgers and fries. She topped off the coffee.

Amputee women. I know there are plenty he had taken of me. He got such a thrill from all of that, and I enjoyed modeling for him.

Modeling?

Posing, dressing in various ways, letting him take pictures of me.

Why? I don’t understand. Are you saying he found you, with one leg, appealing? How did you feel about that?

Is it so shocking? I mean, men love huge breasts, a big butt, redheads, and all sorts of attributes. Why not the lack of a limb?

But, you didn’t want to be without the leg.

And a lady with double-D’s probably didn’t want those either, but we all use our features to attract someone to be with. I didn’t mind that for him it was that I had but one leg. Nothing I could do about that. Your father was not the only man that felt that way. I’ve known plenty of women also.

That liked amputee men?

And women, just as I’ve known men that enjoyed amputee men.

This is strange. I shook my head.

Don’t let it bother you. He was a sweet, dear, wonderful man. I loved the attention. She ate a fry, dipped another in some ketchup, and ate it. He found other things in Susan...her beauty mostly.

How did Susan feel about his interest in amputees? I ate a bite of burger.

At first she thought it was weird, but over time she accepted it. He did not spend as much time with her.

Guess it’s good she didn’t happen to need a leg amputated. I grinned.

She would have if there were a surgeon willing. And I’d have upped the ante and lost my other. She chuckled.

"Whoa. Would he have wanted you more without them?"

Uh-huh. That was his true passion. I just worked harder to please him whenever he happened to see a lady without them. Fortunately, it wasn’t often.

This was all news to me - his finding amputees exotic or maybe erotic, and that anyone actually did. Would Susan actually have lost a leg just to please Dad? I was not the most worldly woman, but I had been with enough men to know, or at least believe, that none of them had a similar interest. One did leave me for a lady with breasts larger than mine, and mine were a respectable size. A friend of man I dated, enjoyed larger black women though he was white and skinny.

She looked for a surgeon?

It happens. Gail ate more burger, some fries, then sipped her Coke. People alter their bodies for a host of reasons.

Losing a leg isn’t even close to getting a tattoo, or a few piercings.

What about gender surgery, or breast augmentation? Ever hear of double-Z implants?

Gross.

Well, it happens. Same for elective mastectomies, and what about nullification?

What’s that, if I dare ask? I have an idea, and I’m already grossed out.

Mostly something men do.

Yuck-k...really...the penis...everything?

Uh-huh. You see people make changes to bring their bodies more in line with how they see themselves.

Since you mention it, an amputation does seem minor to that last thing. Me, I like sex too much.

Women do it too.

Wow. You’re giving me quite the education. Was Dad into any of that?

Nah. Just amputees. She laughed. I know a lady that wanted to be blind, and now is.

Wait. Are you saying people actually find a way to lose a limb?

Sure. If you lost a leg, I could set you up with a guy that would rock your world.

Yeah, but how would I accomplish that?

We finished eating, paid the check, and wandered out into the parking lot. Our cars were the last ones. The waitress locked the front door and headed to the bus stop.

What’s the most popular kind of amputee? I said, leaning against the fender of my car.

Gail pulled her skirt up and rubbed the bare flesh of her stump. It was my first viewing, and I had to admit it was nicer looking that I ever expected. There was just a short piece of the left thigh, and it was rounded with a pale, faint, single scar across the end from one side to the other. I was happy she continued to rub for a very long moment so I could absorb every detail.

Left leg, above the knee...called a LAK. Everything else is a distant second.

Like an RAK?

About the same, but for some reason the left is more popular. I don’t understand.

So, both above the knee would be DAK?

"Bingo. There’s a big fan club for that. I have my own favorite...all of both legs and both arms, so there are no stumps, just hips, and shoulders. Some call that a torso." Gail grinned.

"Would you want to be like that?"

Wouldn’t upset me.

She pulled her iPhone from her purse and showed me a picture of a lady like that. The woman was very pretty. I looked for the longest moment. I almost handed it back, but then I looked again.

She’s sweet.

She lost too much weight and isn’t as pretty now...I think.

You’ve given me quite a bit to think about. I looked at Gail. Her skirt was down, but I had a new appreciation for her, and found her quite nice looking. If I were a lesbian, I’d ask her out on a date. Maybe you’d be able to help me go though Dad’s things.

I’d love to. When?

I told her I would only be here a few days, and I planned to begin later today. I needed to go to the hotel, shower, and change into work clothes. She offered to meet me in an hour.

Why was Gail instead of Susan interested in speaking with me? I was glad it happened. I knew so much more about Dad than I ever had. Maybe it was just timing, and that if I had learned a week, a month, or a year before or after now, I would not have been as receptive to the new concepts and ideas. Maybe I would have hated the man for the rest of my life.

I stood on one leg as the waters cascaded over my head and down my body. Would it be much different to have one leg? I had no idea. Did people really choose to become amputees? Maybe it was not so much of a choice as an inner need that could not be resolved any other way. I had read about transgendered people. Maybe there was something matching, only about limbs instead of gender.

Still standing on one leg I began to wash myself, turning gradually on the single foot. I would look at my knee and picture it as a stump. I even washed it as if there were nothing beyond. How had Gail lost her leg? She was very accepting of the loss, and Dad’s interests, even the idea of choosing to have an amputation. Were many amputees? I could imagine how an amputee would hate the loss, and therefore anyone that found it the least bit attractive.

Why had I found Gail’s stump so fascinating...lovely, appealing? What if tomorrow I was told that my leg would need amputation...or both legs? Maybe I would accept the news in a new light now that I knew about Dad and Gail, and some number of other people in the world. Maybe this was quite common. I had no idea.

Chapter 3 - Dad’s Apartment

I had just unlocked the front door when Gail parked her car so I waited. She wore short pants and a tee shirt, a running shoe. I could see the outline of her breasts straining against the fabric. I totally understood Dad’s interest, and I had my own.

Good timing, I said, giving her a small hug.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised when she hugged back, kissed me on the cheek, then let her lips test mine for whatever they might be ready to return. Ours then lingered together and without thought my tongue wormed between hers.

I was hoping you would, she whispered.

Maybe I found a connection.

I hope so.

Inside was spotless as if the maids had just finished. We walked though the apartment. Each room was neat and clean. Everything was organized. There was no clutter, no unnecessary stuff. Gail had been here before. There were no surprises for her.

Are there things of yours or Susan’s? I said.

We both kept clothes here, mostly me. What are your plans?

I assumed I would box things up...take clothes to the thrift shop. My life is minimalist, just like his seems to have been. Maybe there are some mementos I would like to keep. There were family pictures that I believe he took. Mom tossed much of that kind of stuff out before I could get my hands on it.

We finished walking though the apartment and settled at his desk in the second bedroom. I tapped a key. The computer was already on, but needed a password. Gail spelled it out as I typed. The screen saver went away. I made a note so I would not forget.

That top external drive is the only one that has the amputee stuff.

Oh.

It’s not full. She laughed. A terabyte is a lot. She laughed again.

I clicked on the drive icon and successive folders as she showed me where things were. She said there were several hundred thousand pictures. I had always thought a few hundred were plenty. And he did not know these women. Finally, I saw the folder named Gail, and clicked on it.

She told me how to create a slideshow of all the pictures in that folder. I did and was surprised just how nice she looked. In many pictures, she was undressed. I kept saying wow. She chuckled, and rubbed her stump. I watched.

She went to another folder and opened a few pictures in a different application. One was the same torso she had mentioned, then a few of a woman without any legs, just rounded hips. He was in love with her...at least the idea of her. She tapped the screen. He never actually met her. He would have left me.

Really? I hated always saying really or wow or whoa, but there was