Amputee Dancer


Marcy danced part-time at the Brass Pole, a gentleman’s club on High Street. It was a clean place where men and women would tip well without expecting favors. There had been a few serious boyfriends, but none lasted so she lived alone more than with anyone. Now in her late thirties it was troublesome. Every breakup hurt just a little more.

“Want to get a drink?” Irma said.

Irma was just another dancer at the club that worked fewer hours than Marcy. She had a big belly that hung down in front. Some days it was thicker than others, but she always loved to show it off by wearing tube tops and letting it hang over her jeans. Despite fewer hours, she often received more tips than Irma – a never-ending surprise.

“Maybe just one. How about at Harvey’s?”

Harvey’s was a dive of a bar where people went only to drink. It was safe that men would not try to pick them up, so that was the preferred place to have a drink after work. They worked the early shift – four to eight.


The two women had been at Harvey’s long enough to warm up the seat of the barstool and take a few sips of whiskey. So far no one had bothered them.

“You seeing anyone?” Marcy said.

“Been awhile since the last real guy. My Dad’s in town, staying at my place.”

“That must put a dampener on things.”

“He and I are close. Honestly, he’s someone I really love.”


“Yeah…real close. We sleep together. He’s into big bellies like mine. It’s all good.”

“My old man and I have fucked, but it was purely sex. I don’t know if I’d want him live with me.”

Irma paused and finished her drink before ordering another. “I’ve got a problem with my leg. Doctor wants to amputate it.”

“Oh, no-o. Really?”

“Tonight was my last night dancing. Surgery is in two days. It’s one of the reasons he’s living with me now. I’ll need a little help for a while.”

“What’s it going to be like?”

“It’ll be off about halfway above the knee they say. There’s a chance they may remove it all. I won’t know until I wake up after surgery.”

“How do you feel about this? It must be awful.”

“I talked with another woman missing her leg. Wow. She’s beautiful. Anyway, we spent a few hours together and I have a better understanding of what it might be like. I even met her husband, so I have a guy’s perspective.”

“She’s married?”

“Yeah, and after the amputation. Seems there are guys into amputees just as there are into big bellies or big hooters. So she sometimes actually dresses to accentuate her stump by wearing short dresses or short pants to let it show. Can you believe that? Yeah, and I saw it. It looked damned nice, too.”

“What happened to her leg?”

“Some rare thing where she believed her leg shouldn’t be there. She found a doctor to amputate it although nothing was wrong.”

“And now she’s okay?”

“Happy as a clam. I just hope that I can be.”

“I’ve got to ask, forgive me, but are you having yours amputated for the same reason?” Marcy shrugged.

Irma blushed as she finished her drink. “Yes,” she meekly whispered. “Dad and I have talked the last few months. He was the one that found the doctor for me.”

“Whoa-a,” Marcy moaned then finished her drink.


Marcy went home alone; her mind still filled with the conversation with Irma about amputations. Growing up a friend had lost all of her leg because of cancer. Afterwards, Jackie lived as normal a life as before. Marcy had seen the stump at the swimming pool or on sleep overs. It was attractive, but it was the only one she had ever seen. She had even touched and massaged it. Jackie always said it felt good to have it massaged. By high school Jackie was dead, but not forgotten.

Now, all those times together resurfaced. Is that how Irma’s amputation would be? Marcy tried to put herself in Irma’s position and pictured knowing in two days her leg would be gone, and facing walking with crutches forever. Strangely it wasn’t such an awful thing. Probably because of having been around Jackie so much.


John flipped the covers back as he heard Irma leave the bathroom, and waited as the crutch tips tapped the hardwood floor. She had injected her thigh with a potion that would create a stump. For the past month she had done the injection in an attempt to start the adjustment of having one leg.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he cooed as the bed sagged when she sat on the edge.

“Hey, Daddy. I missed you.”

He fondled her belly then her stump. “Same here.” He fingered between her thighs, felt how wet she was, then slipped güvenilir bahis the erection inside.

“God, Daddy…that feels so-o good. Fuck me for a while before we go to sleep.”


Marcy woke a few hours after falling asleep – wide awake. There was no hope of finding it again. The dream had been intense. She had returned to the same doctor that had amputated her left leg. Only now they were discussing amputating the other. She was in a wheelchair and enthusiastic about the possibility. The nurse helping was missing an arm and leg on opposite sides, saying she was anxious to have the other leg amputated later in the year and how happy she was that I was ready for my second. The female doctor was missing a leg as well.

There was no work today so she gave up and went to her computer. She looked up YouTube videos of amputee women. There were many more than she expected – one leg, both legs, an arm, several limbs. You name it and it was probably there. She watched a few of women walking on one leg using crutches. It was not that different from watching Jackie.

Some told sad tales of limbs lost and how their lives were ruined. Others told a vastly different story much more positive hiding little about the amputated limb and a new way of doing things. Look at me, isn’t this great.

A few were previews of videos for sale. Marcy went to other web sites where she found models offering pictures and videos for sale. What sort of people bought them? Did Irma’s father watch stuff like this until her amputation when he would have his own personal model?

Marcy began to have a sense of excitement looking at the pictures and videos. Then, she allowed herself to imagine she was the model and the excitement increased. Would she consider an amputation? Yes was the only answer she found.


John injected Irma’s other thigh. Now, she was legless, just hips without thighs. He ravaged her abbreviated body with the big belly, taking her in several positions.

“Daddy, Daddy, that’s so good-d,” she would moan offering herself over and over.

“I love you more than your mother.”

“I guess she wasn’t interested in being an amputee.”

“Or fat. It didn’t stop me from talking to her about what I wanted.”

“Would you have wanted me if she had?”

“Of course. I always wanted you, but I knew I needed to wait.” He fondled her legless hips.

“How long do I have to wait before the other leg?”

“Remember, amputations are final.”

“I know. I know. I’ve almost been legless more than missing one leg…and we have the wheelchair.” She wriggled and squirmed as he continued ramming her with his erection. “I don’t mind waiting for the arm.”

“You’ll look fantastic as a torso with a big belly.”

“So much better than that one chubby torso we have pictures of. We’ll enjoy how I am.”

It was still dark outside, not time to get up. John injected his left leg and made love to her again.


Irma had been out of surgery most of the day. The left leg was amputated at the hip and now swaddled with bandages. Her crutches leaned against the bed as she ate supper and looked at the way that the sheets draped her body below the waist.

“Whoa, it’s gone,” Marcy said standing beside the bed.

“Yeah. Glad that’s over with. They had me up and walking the halls already.”

“Is it like you expected?”

“Better…other than the sutures. They say they will be there for over a week.”

“Listen, I can’t stop thinking about what you’ve done, and the woman you met.”

“You want yours off?”

“Crazy, huh? Three days and that’s all I think about. I knew a girl when I was younger…her leg was like yours. I had the same thoughts back then. I don’t know why they went away.”

Irma typed on her cellphone. Marcy’s made the sound for a new text message. “That’s the woman’s contact info. Talk with her and see how you feel afterwards.”

“Will she talk me out of it?”

“Nah. Liz had a good feel for all this stuff. Just talk to her.”

“It’d be nice if I could just be missing a leg part-time. I’d need to find a new career.”

“I will be an amputee model. Most all of the ones now are slender. A few are chubby, but they don’t show off their bellies and stumps. I’ll have a whole new audience.” Irma laughed. “Daddy has money.”

Marcy received a reply from Liz and read it. “Liz said I could come over when I leave here.”

“You’ll like Liz and Don. Both are great people. Older. Have been around the devotee and wannabe scene for many years. Both are missing a leg.”

—oOOo— türkçe bahis

Liz and Don were like most other people in every respect and married twenty years. There were no children by choice. They had other interests. Both were attractive, pleasant in appearance – fit, trim – despite being in their early fifties. They wore jeans and tee shirts. The left pants leg trimmed and tailored to fit over their legless hips where the thigh had been amputated at the hip by choice years before.

“I’ll get it,” Liz said and walked gracefully with a single crutch as she often did.

“Liz, I’m Marcy.”

“Come in. It was nice to hear from you. Don is in here. Can I get you something to drink…water, beer?”

“I’m fine for now. Thanks.”

Liz introduced her to Don who was standing with two crutches near the fireplace. And Marcy noticed that Liz’s tongue was split up the middle.

“Always happy to meet another wannabe,” he said politely shaking her hand.

“Maybe I am. I don’t really know. Only that some old feelings have resurfaced lately.”

“How long have you known Irma?” Liz said, then rubbed half the tongue over one lip. “Have a seat.” She pointed to a matching loveseat with a coffee table between them. As she sat she pulled the barefoot into the empty space where the leg should have been.

“We dance at the same club. Otherwise, we rarely spend time together. The other night we were having drinks after work and she told me about her upcoming amputation. It reminded me of a childhood girlfriend I knew. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.”

“And you’ve never heard about wannabes?” Don said.

“No, sir. That was the first time. I shouldn’t be surprised. People find all kinds of things to be fascinated with. Some like a big ass, others a big belly.”

“I guess it’s all similar, but wannabes might not agree.”

“I know women that have had butt enlargements.” Marcy laughed. “Same for bellies like Irma’s where they eat ten-thousand calories a day until it has a nice sag.” She looked at Liz hoping for more of a display of her tongue.

“Yes. We all have a sense of how we should look,” Liz said, then clapped the halves of her tongue together a few times. “Yeah, something I did for myself a few years ago. I love how it feels to move in different directions. Most never notice.” She did a few tongue tricks. “About my wannabe feelings, it was like I am…only until about fifteen years ago there weren’t any doctors willing to help. Now there’s one doing nothing but elective amputations, and busy.”

“Irma’s doctor?”

“Yes. If that’s something you want we could help arrange.”

“I guess I do. I know that sounds wishy-washy. This has suddenly overwhelmed me. I bet by next month I’ll be certain.”

“What would help?” Don said.

“I wish I could be an amputee part-time.” Marcy laughed. “Good one, huh?”

“Well, you can fold and bind your leg with an ACE bandage.” Don smiled.

“I actually tried that the other evening. My foot poked out from my ass.”

Liz and Don whispered between them. Then, Liz spoke. “There is something to inject that forms a stump that ends right there. It lasts one to twelve hours.”

“Really? That would be perfect…for now. Do you have some you can sell me or tell me where to order it?”

“How about both?” Don laughed.

“Sure-e,” Marcy moaned, thinking about what to try first. “I don’t have any crutches. I need to get some on the way home.”

“We have extras you can borrow until then. Don’t worry. I understand you are a dancer,” Don said. “Maybe you could give us a sample.” He grinned.

Marcy faced away and began to moved her hips about. She eased the spandex pants down uncovering the flesh.

“God, that’s so hot,” Liz moaned.

Marcy whacked one with the flat of her palm making a low smack.

“Impressive,” Don moaned.

“I bet you’d like some of that,” Liz said to Don.

“I would.”

“And I’d like that,” Marcy said. “Where should I inject?” Marcy held up one of the special syringes towards Don. “You inject me.”


Marcy’s leg was still missing about mid thigh as she drove home. It was dark and no one would see her crutch from the parking lot to her first floor apartment. The leg would be gone for about three more hours. She had a few syringes and a vial of the potion, enough to last until the order arrived.

She was exhausted and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. She stood in front of the mirror and studied herself from various angles and liked what she saw. She wiggled her hips as she had for Don and during her dance routines güvenilir bahis siteleri at the gentleman’s club. Everything look the same other than the stump of thigh.

Liz had assured Marcy that she could inject the stump before the leg returned without problems if she wanted it shorter. They had told her how to make it be off at the hip. She had seen their stumps. That interested her. She did not have to work the next day so she made another injection to last the full twelve hours.

She and sleep found each other quickly. In her dreams, she had the amputation. Maybe it was Irma she was thinking about. Probably not. It felt good to walk about on one leg. People were asking when she would get a prosthesis, and she always answered that she did not want one. She would go back to sleep and the dream would continue. When she woke it must have happened four or five times.

The covers flipped back, and Marcy saw her leg was gone just like in the dream. Then, she remembered using the potion. There were hours remaining before the leg would return. After throwing on some worn jeans and a faded tee shirt on, she drove to a diner a few blocks away where few if any people knew her. She hoped.

“I didn’t know you were an amputee,” the waitress said.

“I usually wear a prosthesis.”

“Oh. Don’t you dance at the Brass Pole?”

“Nah. Who’d want to see a one-legged pole dancer?” Marcy laughed and asked for coffee then recited her order.

“I had a boyfriend that would kill to see that. He was on me to lose my leg. What’s with that?”

“You still see him?”

“It was getting too intense about the leg. He said plenty women want to lose a leg. I didn’t believe him. Do they?”

“I’ve known a few. It’s not so bad.”

“Let me turn this in.” She slapped the order pad against her hand.

She watched the waitress walk away. How would staying like this be? She had a pile of money invested and could probably retired if she wanted. Maybe there were people that would be interested in a one-legged pole dancer.

The waitress refilled the cup. “How does that make you feel?”

“Wannabes? Doesn’t bother me. I can hook you up with a surgeon if you want it. Not very expensive either…about three grand.”

“You’re joking?”

“Not really. You almost sounded interested.”

“I was just thinking how he’d react if I did lose a leg. He was good to be with. I just didn’t believe it could happen. Whoa. I need to think about this.”


After breakfast, Marcy went to the hospital to visit Irma. When she arrived, Irma was just returning from a long walk up and down the hallway. The doctor walked into the room a moment later.

“I’m seeing double,” the doctor teased.

“Double your pleasure, double your fun,” Irma said to the doctor, then to Marcy, “love how you look now.”

“Yeah. It’s much nicer than I expected. I spoke with Liz and Don. Great couple.”

“Is that from the potion?” the doctor said.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I did their amputations, and they told me about it. Will you have an amputation?”

“Yes. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

“Will be happy to help. Love doing amputations.” The doctor chuckled then examined Irma’s stump. Several times he rubbed her belly fat then looked at Marcy. “Ever think about having something like this?”

“What, and be a fat amputee?” Marcy laughed. “Sure. Pump me up, will ya?”

“If you’re interested I have some pills that will make you gain fifty pounds in a few minutes. Lasts most of a day then you go back to how you were.” The doctor handed Marcy a handful of pills. “One is good for fifty, two a hundred.”


Marcy thought about the pills on the drive home. She stopped at a thrift store and bought several dresses large enough to accommodate her larger size if she took a pill. Maybe it would fun to try, but nothing to compare with missing a leg. In a few short hours, she had regained all the feelings from seeing her childhood girlfriend. She knew right then it was something she had to do. Her fingers rubbed over the doctor’s business card.

The first thing to do was call the Brass Pole.

“Ralph, it’s Marcy. Something’s come up and I need to quit.”


“Right away. Maybe I’ll need to dance later, but for now…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I have a tumor in my thigh. They want to do the amputation tonight.”

“Shit. That’s dreadful. Sounds like Irma’s problem.”

“In away. I saw her today, and she’d doing fine. Thanks for asking.”

Marcy ended the call before Ralph could say anything. Next she called the doctor as she swallowed one pill.


“It’s Marcy, Irma’s friend. I’m ready for the amputation. How about next Monday?”

She felt her belly swell and begin to form an apron of fat to match Irma’s.

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