Why I lost that DeathMatch
on
The Chronoliths
·
· Score: -1, Offtopic
BELLEVUE, WA-- You may gloat now if you wish, but your deathmatch victory was cheaply won, and you will not fair so well in a rematch. If the playing field had been level, you most surely would have lost.
I'm ready for that rematch.
You see, I was disadvantaged from the start, with my 38 ping to your 30 ping. It is quite obvious to me that had those pings been reversed, you would have tasted the sweet load from my shotgun far more often than you did. Those 8 precious milliseconds were all you needed to evade my blasts.
And were it not for my inferior hardware, I would have squeezed those extra frames into victory. I would have had to be more than human to battle you with my mere 85 frames per second. It is truly sad that you would cheer, knowing that I was handicapped from the beginning.
Had I not been playing with a dirty mouseball on a worn-out mousepad, my twitch-like responses would have been more than enough to rail you mid-air. But alas, that and my coffee-soaked keyboard may have affected my play.
It seems barely worth mentioning that I had not even played that map before. It would be beneath me to say that I had barely gotten in my four hours practice time beforehand.
There were times during the match that I wished I didn't have two copies of Photoshop running in the background, and that I wasn't downloading MP3s from that private archive. And if my roommate hadn't been leeching ISOs off of my hard drive through the local network at the same time, I'm sure the outcome of our battle would have been much different.
But I think the turning point may have occurred either when that ICQ message popped me out of the gaming window, or when I spilled my can of 5-Alive. Had I been drinking cola like I should have, I'm sure we wouldn't even be having this discussion.
And there was that moment when I accidentally knocked out my monitor cable from my machine. Those few seconds certainly cost me a frag. But that pales in comparison to the instant I hit my Windows key just when I had you in my crosshairs.
I know it was my own fault answering that telephone call from my girlfriend mid-match. I had to get up anyways to let my dog outside for a pee. But none of that would have mattered had my chair wheel not gotten caught in that rut in the carpet.
So you see, it is apparent to me that your win was not entirely based on your skill. It is quite clear that you were lucky.
But I must take at least some blame. I really shouldn't have rebinded all my keys when I noticed I was using my CTF config, and I'm sure I didn't help my own cause by readjusting my mouse sensitivity while you were gathering weapons.
So I think it is only fair to both of us that we replay that match on my server. Good luck.
hey captian shitbarge...obviously he misread the post or doesnt know about microsofts entertainment station thing (i forget what its called b4 you try and flame me as well) so maybe you should stop flaming people with your nerderific logic! mommy is calling you upstairs..kthx
My variation is similar to others, yet still my own. Each of ours is different enough in our diaper history to keep our individuality.
I remember a neighbor girl from when I was in grade 1 (6 years old). Her 5 year old brother was in kindergarten. I asked why he never came out to play after coming home from school. She told me that her mom put him into diaper as soon as he came home because he always wet his pants ( kindergarten was a half day so he usually came home in wet pants ). Sometimes I'd see him sitting in his bedroom window wearing plastic pant covered diapers. That's when the fascination began.
At that age I would rather play outside rather then go home to go to the bathroom ( you may not be allowed back out to play if it was getting late ) Occasionally up till age 7 I might wet my pants if not able to find a private bush to relieve myself, but that was no big deal to me, beyond the embarrassment. I was also chronically constipated. To this day I do not understand why and it can still be a problem. This did however lead to messy pants as a regular event. I just couldn't hold it in and it would ooze out over several hours. I know that many people suspected, but it seems to be the nature of people that they will not raise this kind of a subject, so I was only confronted once when I was about 14. A quick denial backed them off. I truly feel that the discoverer is as uncomfortable as the one discovered! I did not come to this conclusion until 25 years later. In between were the diaper curiosities that re-emerged during my teen years followed by semi-fulltime diaper wearing after I left home and was able to live alone. (you've heard all the homemade stuff and first time buys, so I will not repeat them )
The most profound discovery was that once I put myself back into diapers I was no longer constipated. I really believe that diapers have saved my health. I went to doctors all through my youth and went through boxes of administered suppositories and enemas, to no lasting success. Now I'm morning regular, although if I travel, or visit, I immediately become constipated. I seem to have a psycho-physiological need to wear diapers for my excremental bodily needs. I'm not incontinent but do have a very weak bladder. Many times I've had to get off a bus early to find a lane or bush to relieve myself, with no hope of making it home. If I drink one beer I will piss 2 beers worth within an hour, in 6 visits. Very frustrating! I wear diapers whenever I am by myself, in public or not, and always have them stashed under my car seat. ( I wear Goodnights to work, as I only weigh 130 pounds, so they fit like a small pair of underwear)
I prefer to wear cloth for comfort and price but always have disposables around for travel, convenience, discretion and for the morning regularity.
When I was about 5 or 6 years old, I had an incontinence problem. I had been potty trained since I was about 2 or so, so I had been wearing big boy underpants for quite a while. My youngest brother was 3 at the time, so he was also out of diapers.
When I was outside playing, I wouldn't want to stop to go potty, so I would leak a little. After a few episodes of this, my mother decided that the way to deal with this was to get the diapers out again. So out came the old birdseye diapers, the diaper pins and the plastic pants. She would lay me out on the floor with my father and brothers present and diaper me for the night. If I woke dry the next morning, she would let me put on my big boy underpants, otherwise, she would change me and make me wear diapers all day. Must be she thought that it would humiliate me to have to go to school with my diapers on. But it didn't bother me - I wasn't old enough to realize that I shouldn't be wearing them. Besides, I didn't have to ask the teacher to go potty - I could just sit there at my desk and potty in my diaper. I quickly discovered that I liked wearing my diapers much more than wearing my big boy underpants. About that time, mom discovered that her tactic wasn't working, so she asked if I didn't want to stop wearing diapers and get back into my underwear. Of course, I figured it out then and said "yes, I want to wear my underpants." But I really didn't, so I kept wetting every chance I got. I just loved the soft cloth against my skin and the bulk between my legs felt nice. Besides, the warm feeling I got when I peed my diaper stayed with me all day. It got to the point where I didn't want mom to put me in a dry diaper. Lots of time, I would save my pee after I had wet some time before so that when she changed me, I could immediately go to my room and wet my diaper again. This went on for about 2 years. I don't think I stayed dry for longer than 3 hours the entire two years.
After two years, mom figured out that I liked wearing diapers, so she stopped. The embarrassment of the other kids laughing at me when I peed myself stopped that part. But that entire period left me with a life long love of wearing and wetting diapers.
After mom took me out of diapers when I was about 8, I decided that I would take matters into my own hands. When she was out and I was home alone, I would sneak into her bedroom and find where she had stored the diapers. Then I took some back to my room for my own use. I would pin the diaper on myself and put my plastic pants on and then wet and/or poop in my diaper. I did this until I was about 12.
As a matter of fact, my very first orgasm was wearing diapers at about age 11. I was pooping and I had to get every last little bit out. So I squatted down in my room and really hunkered down and pushed hard. There was a sort of different feeling this time, so I just kept pushing harder and harder to get the last bit out. All of a sudden, I felt this rhythmic contraction that squeezed out the last bit and it felt really good. Only when I later changed myself did I find what I later learned was semen in my diaper.
After that, I would wet and poop and try to have an orgasm in my diaper every chance I got. I finally gave it up about a year later when it became problematical to clean up my dirty diapers without one of my brothers or my mother catching me.
When I got older and had an apartment by myself, I quickly bought some diapers. I wouldn't wear them out in public, but I would often wear a bulky diaper to bed so I wouldn't have to get up at night and go to the bathroom. I would just lay there and contentedly pee in my diaper. I often wouldn't even get up for #2 either - I would just lay in my bed and poop my diaper too.
The evening began with the call to inform her where to meet. While I was waiting I put on a diaper, plastic pants , and a pair of sweat pants. While I waited for her to arrive I wet my diaper twice! Boy is she going to be mad at me! Mommy warned me the last time I wet my diaper that if it happened again I would be punished and that I was to old to still wear diapers.
Then came the knock on the door. I started to get butterflies in my stomach. When mommy came in she looked me right in the eyes and asked me if I wet my diaper. I was so scared I could not even answer her. She started to pull down my sweat pants and scolded me for wetting my diaper again. She removed my diaper and gave me a couple of good swats on my bare behind then she told me she would have to give the dirty baby a bath! She started to bathe me cleaning every part, especially my privates I was really embarrassed to have to be bathed by mommy.She dried me off and laid me down on the bed and to my surprise she told me babies don't have any hair on there bottoms and she proceeded to shave my hair off! By now I was very excited! She then she told me to roll over and to my surprise she started to shave my bottom. I felt like a small child again! I laid there while she cleaned up the shaving stuff and when she came back she had a thermometer and said babies get there temperature taken in there bottom she pushed the thermometer into my rectum and made me hold it in there until she was ready to remove it. She said that I did not have a fever and that there was no excuse for wetting my diaper. With that statement she started spanking me with the paddle! I started to cry and she pushed the pacifier into my mouth. But she was not done punishing me yet. She started spanking me with a doubled over belt! Boy, was my bottom sore! She did not stop until I started jumping all around the bed! When she finally stopped spanking me she started to rub lotion all over my tender bottom until I stopped crying. Then to my surprise she pushed two suppositories into my rectum and told me to roll over on my clean diaper then she put lotion on my front and it sure felt good especially since there was no hair there! After spreading on some baby powder she fixed the tabs on the disposable diaper and pulled on the plastic pants . Mommy then tucked me into bed and gave me a big kiss goodbye she left saying I would be a very messy baby by morning!
My name is Ann. I am a 28 year old woman and happily married to a wonderful man. I am also an amputee. This is my story.
For as long as I can remember I have had a fascination with the thought of being an amputee. When I would see another woman who was missing a leg, or more desirably, an arm, I would get an enormous sexual arousal. I fantasized what life would be like if I was an amputee who was loved and adored by a wonderful man. I was a true wannabe. I found others like me on the Internet and made friends quickly. I found that there were many devotee and wannabe men, but very few females with my interests. This is how I met Richard. He was not a wannabe, but rather a true devotee of amputee woman. He was searching for the ideal amputee woman to eventually marry. Even though I was not an amputee, we decided to date, since my interests were as unique as his.
We dated for a number of months. During that time we would spend hours looking at our picture collections. They were all of women in various states of amputation. You may find it odd that I was only interested in pictures of other women amputees. However, you must consider that I was a wannabe and NOT a devotee. I did not want an amputee man as a lover. I was not a lesbian either. The woman in my pictures were my envy. During our relationship I tried to become a pretend amputee. We went through the one legged routine, and even went out in public with me on crutches with my leg tied up. However, it just didn't seem to satisfy us. At this point I must confess that my amputee interests were not quite the norm. I really did not have a strong desire to have either or both of my legs amputated. I had fabulous legs and loved to wear very short skirts, pantyhose, and high heels. I loved the feel of crossing my legs and showing them off. I didn't think I wanted to lose this capability. However, my arms were my target. Somehow the thought of missing an arm, or better, both arms would thrill me. I felt that if I would become an arm amputee I would really like to be a bilateral above the elbow amputee. Somehow just one arm wasn't enough. My remaining arm would make things too easy for me. I had to have the true handicap of being armless. Also, I found the thought of being fitted with prosthetic arms with hooks to be a real sendoff. I wanted to experience a life in which I did everything with my hooks.
One of the things that Richard and I would do was to cruise malls and other public places in search of female amputees. A good sighting would leave an impression that would allow us to have the most exquisite sex imaginable after we got back to Richard's home. The sighting that was to become a pivotal factor in our future was truly memorable. We were at the local mall and we spotted a woman about 30 years old sitting at a table in the food area. She was drinking a cup of coffee. She was very well dressed and wearing a short skirt and white silk blouse. What gave us an immediate thrill was the fact that her left sleeve terminated in a gleaming prosthetic hook. We could tell she was an above elbow amputee as she did not have the dexterity that a below elbow amputee would have had. We decided to follow her discreetly. She went into a major department store and into the misses sportswear section. We watched her as she used her hook to help examine clothing on the racks. She was gorgeous and both Richard and I were really getting turned on -- Richard because of seeing a beautiful amputee woman -- and me because I truly envied her.
What was to happen next is almost beyond words to describe. The woman headed for the ladies room. Of course I wanted to follow her. Richard had to wait outside, but I went in right after her. She went into a stall and I went into the stall next to her. We both exited the stalls at the same time and she went to the sink to rinse her one good hand. I went up to the sink next to her. I couldn't help but look right at her hook. To me it was a thing of great envy. I can't believe I said it, but I made up a complete lie.
"My brother lost an arm after a motorcycle accident and I know how difficult it can be."
"I am used to it, but sometimes there are some annoyances, like right now," she replied. "My harness has ridden up and is driving me crazy."
"Can I help?" I asked her.
"I don't want to impose, but could you help me take off my blouse and help me adjust my harness so I can work the cable controls more easily?" My heart leaped at the thought, to be able to see close up what an above elbow prosthesis looked like on a real woman.
"I would be happy to help," I eagerly replied.
The woman introduced herself as Jill. She suggested we go into the handicapped stall as she didn't want to alarm the other woman if any should come into the ladies room. We went into the handicapped stall which was nice and large. I unbuttoned Jill's silk blouse and helped her slip it off. She had on a beautiful satin and lace bra that held her very ample breasts. It was then that I got a full view of her prosthetic arm. I almost fainted. It was fabulous. I could see the socket for her above elbow stump, the special elbow joint with its control cable, and finally the other control cable running down to the hook that was screwed into her forearm. I knew then that I wanted to be fitted with an arm just like this, more than anything in the world. Better yet, two. I helped Jill adjust the harness and then get her blouse back on. She thanked me again and again for my help. After I went back outside I told Richard that we had to go to his place right away as I was in a state of unbelievable sexual arousal. I told him every detail.
After that experience we would talk for hours about how wonderful it would be if I was like Jill. I continued to fantasize about becoming an arm amputee. I decided that if I ever did, it would have to be above the elbow and absolutely had to be bilateral. I wanted both stumps to have prosthetic arms and, of course, nothing else but hooks. No artificial hands for me. The thought of being out with Richard with just my hooks showing from the sleeves of a tight sweater was almost too much to handle. I thought of the difficulty I would have in daily activities and that made me more excited. Our discussions went on for several weeks until Richard told me that he found out that there was a way in which I could actually be granted my wish. It had become his wish as well. He found out about a very special clinic in which special "cosmetic" surgeries of all kinds would be performed for the right price. Richard was quite well off financially and the cost would not be a problem. Was I really going to consider this? What about my job and my few other friends? After long periods of contemplation I decided that I really did want to go through with it. Richard offered to marry me if I went through with the amputations. I would no longer have to work and he would take care of me.
Three weeks later I was admitted to the clinic. It was a really weird place, but run by very skilled doctors who were more interested in money than anything else. Doctor Smith, not his real name, was to do my surgery. I never did find out his real name as none of the staff used their real names. He explained that my arms would be amputated about 3 inches above the elbows. That would give me a stump that would make the use of prosthetic arms more successful. I had told him that I wanted prosthetic arms very much. The day of my surgery came. I was thrilled. When I awoke later in the afternoon, my arms were bandaged. I could see that all I had left were my stumps. Richard was there and he kissed me. For a few moments I had the feeling that I made a terrible mistake. There was no going back though. It was too late. I wondered where my arms were. Did they pack them in ice? How do they dispose of them. It was an interesting thought, but I put it out of my mind.
For the next month I rapidly recovered. My stumps were healing. Richard helped with everything. Of course he had to feed and bathe me, and take care of helping me go to the bathroom. He followed the doctor's directions and wrapped my healing stumps in elastic bandages to keep the swelling down. During this period we had some fabulous sex, although it was a little different since I couldn't use my hands to caress Richard's manhood. I tried using my stumps, and that was a turn on. Richard said he couldn't wait until I could use me hooks on him. That was the day we were both waiting for.
The time finally came for me to get fitted for my prosthetic arms. My first visit involved the prosthetist taking plaster molds of my two stumps. They would be used to mold the sockets that my stumps would fit into. He said it would be about a week until the arms were ready. We couldn't wait. The days dragged by. The moment I was waiting for ever since seeing Jill's arm had finally arrived. The prosthetist brought the two arms over to us. The harness was already attached, but would need adjustment. I couldn't believe this was really happening to me. He and Richard unwrapped the thin bandages I still wore on my stumps. He asked me to raise my stumps. He then slipped a special stump sock over both stumps. It consisted of the two socks connected by a piece of the same material, that stretched over my shoulders and across my upper back. Next came the arms. I slipped my stumps into the sockets. The feeling was incredible. I knew I was soaking wet between my legs. I was as turned on as I could ever be. The prosthetist then adjusted the harness. The arms felt great. I looked down at the two hooks. My heart pounded. Was this really the way I would be for the rest of my life? I just couldn't believe it. After the fitting I received about two hours of initial training. Of course I would undergo many more hours learning to use my hooks.
Before we left I was able to raise and lower my new arms and open and close the hooks. I still had difficulty coordinating. I had to remember to unlock the elbow lock with one motion that controlled the elbow cable, and then use the other control motion on the main cable to raise or lower the arm. If I wanted to open or close the hook I had to lock the elbow first, or the arm would just raise. It took some practice. During this practice session I was just wearing my bra, to enable the prosthetist to see everything functioning. I got the feeling I was turning him on too. Now it was time to go. Richard helped my put on my sweater. It nicely covered my arms, my hooks descending below the sleeves.
"We're going out to dinner," Richard said. "To celebrate." We had not gone out since before my amputations. I didn't want to be seen armless. This would be a night I would always remember.
"Oh Richard, I don't know if I can handle it," I exclaimed.
"Don't worry, I will feed you if you can't manage. Let's play it be ear."
Before we left I looked in the mirror in the prosthetist's office and saw a beautiful woman wearing a very short skirt, black nylons, high heels, and having two gleaming hooks for hands. I had all I could do to stand up I was so turned on. I had dreamed of this for years. Now it was to be my reality. I would be hooked for life.
We drove to a nearby restaurant that was very elegant. I wondered what the reactions would be when we went in. Most people didn't notice us as the restaurant lights were fairly dim. The few people that did were obvious in their attempts not to stare. The hostess seated us at a table that allowed me to sit next to Richard so he could help to feed me. I was not yet able to use my hooks for eating a complete meal. I did struggle to do a few things for myself, but there was a lot to learn. We asked the waitress for a straw so I could drink without lifting the glass. Most of the time I had my hooks resting in my lap. I am sure that some people from far away wondered why Richard was feeding me. Those who were sitting close by would naturally realize my situation. I had several drinks and I felt wonderful. After desert we were anxious to get home.
The rest of the evening was to be the fulfillment of our sexual lust for each other, and especially now that I had my two new hooks. Richard undressed me down to my panties and bra. We couldn't get the bra off because the straps were under my harness. That item would have to wait since neither of us wanted me to be without my hooks. I then slowly undressed Richard with a little help on the hard parts. I used my hooks to pull down his underpants. He was as erect as it was possible to be. He pleaded with me to use my hooks to fondle his penis. As I tried this out he pulled me to the bed and kissed me. My arms were still extended to his crotch and my hooks were gently massaging his manhood. I regretted that I couldn't actually feel him with my hooks. However, I knew that later I would use my stumps to touch him and I would have exquisite feelings as my stumps rubbed him all over.
In the morning, it was the beginning of the weekend, I awoke quite early. I was so excited. I couldn't wait to get my arms back on and continue to practice using my hooks. I nudged Richard awake with my stumps.
"Let's get going, I have a busy day planned for us," I said.
"Do you want me to give you a bath before breakfast?"
"Let's do it," I replied.
Richard ran the water for me and I got into the tub. Richard carefully washed me all over and shaved my legs and under my stumps. He then dried me carefully. I said that I wanted to get my arms on as soon as possible so I could try to see if I could put on some of my own clothes. I needed Richard to put my bra on for me. I would never be able to do that. Not with a regular bra that is. He then helped with the stump socks and then the arms. The thrill was back. I took a look down at my shiny hooks and felt so good.
I was about to see if I could put on my own panties when I realized that I was about to get my period. I noticed some slight spotting on the panties of my nightie. Ever since I was a teenager I have been using tampons. I had a box of Tampax in the vanity. I asked Richard to get one out. I then wondered if I could do this myself and if Richard would want to watch. I explained what I had in mind and he said it would be a big turn on to see me struggle to insert the tampon with my hooks. I worked at it for 15 minutes. Richard watched the whole time and I noticed he was hard as a rock. I must have really turned him on. I had a lot of trouble but managed to unwrap the tampon. I grabbed it with my right hook and positioned it as best as I could for insertion. I had to try and try to get the hook into position to make the insertion into my vagina. I finally did get it started and pushed the applicator to the right depth. What was really tricky was using my other hook to push the tampon out of the applicator. When I had hands I used my index finger to do this. I was so proud when I finally managed to do it. I pulled the applicator out and held it over the waste basket and opened my hook. It dropped down silently. I then grasped my panties with both hooks and managed to pull them up. I was so pleased. I wasn't up to trying to put on pantyhose. That is very difficult and there is a risk of running the nylon. Richard did it for me. He then helped me with my usual very short miniskirt and with a beautiful white blouse. I slipped my feet into 3" heels to complete my outfit. Richard then combed my hair and put on my makeup. After doing this for some weeks now he was getting pretty good at it. Eventually I was able to do quite a bit of this myself. Holding makeup brushes was easy, but opening the little plastic boxes was another thing. I looked into the full length mirror on the door and was once again thrilled at my appearance.
I told Richard that I wanted to spend the entire day at the mall. I had a few things I wanted to buy and I wanted to show off my new hooks. Rather than use the over the shoulder style handbags that I used when I had arms, I now used a small pouch that belted around my waist. It contained the few essentials that I would need, some makeup, and a couple of Tampax tampons since the one I was wearing would need changing. I wasn't looking forward to this task because it was so difficult. We headed for the car and I felt so wonderful. I wasn't worried about being in public. I had gotten over that already. In fact, the stares gave me a funny kind of pleasure. There are very few double arm amputees and I had the pleasure of being in that very small group. The one thing I really wanted to do was to meet another female double arm amp like me. Little did I know at that time, but that wish would be granted sooner than I realized.
We arrived at the mall around 10:30 in the morning. I made sure my arms were not locked at the elbows so when I walked my arms would swing slightly and look more natural. Of course everyone could see my hooks below the sleeves of my blouse. We headed for the lingerie department of my favorite store. I wanted to buy some new bras and panties. I started to practice using my hooks by lifting both arms to about 90 degrees and locking the elbows. I could then open and close my hooks to grasp the bras and panties on the racks. It was really fun to do this. I was very proud when I was able to carry several bras and panties up to the sales counter and place them there. The sales clerk, a girl in her teens, was very nervous when she saw that I had no hands, only two hooks. Richard paid her and she put everything in a bag. She wasn't sure if she should hand it to me or not. I helped her embarrassing moment by saying that I would take it. I opened my right hook and grasped the bag. She awkwardly helped to slip it between my open hook. I let the hook close, unlocked the elbow and let the arm slowly drop. I was able to carry the bag with no effort and I said to Richard that I wanted to carry it.
Everything was going well when I realized that I had to go to the bathroom. I wasn't sure I could do this without Richard's help. I decided to try. I went into the ladies room and found an empty stall. Fortunately all the doors just pushed open. I couldn't possibly turn a door knob. I slid the lock with my hook. Next came the task of pulling my skirt up and getting my pantyhose and panties down. Getting them down wasn't so bad. I grabbed the sides and pushed them down as little as necessary to make the job of getting them back on easier. I sat down and relieved myself. I decided to change my tampon as well. Good thing, I was flowing pretty heavily. I was proud of myself as I was able to do this faster than the last time. Now came the struggle to get my panties up. The front was easy, but the back didn't want to pull up. I tried to get my hooks in back, but couldn't open them. Eventually I managed to do the job. The pantyhose were a nightmare. If it weren't for the heavier panty part I would have run them. I really couldn't get them exactly in position, but they would have to do. Richard was used to making sure my pantyhose were nicely positioned at my crotch. Some things were just too difficult with hooks. All in all I think it took me 20 minutes to get the job done.
"How did you make out?" Richard asked when I finally left the ladies room.
"Nearly impossible, but I did it."
"That must have been fun," Richard joked.
"Oh yeah," I retorted sarcastically. "Especially the tampon!"
After that Richard and I walked into the food court to grab a snack. I was getting quite hungry after our morning of shopping. Richard suggested that we find a seat and he would get the food after he put all my shopping bags down. We found a vacant table. As we were getting settled and considering what food to get, I noticed the woman several tables away. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was Jill, the woman who had catalyzed my decision to become armless. My jaw dropped in complete amazement as I expected to see her one good arm and instead saw that she now had two hooks showing below her sleeves. Apparently she had somehow lost her other arm and was now as armless as I was. I wasn't sure at the time, but would find out that that arm too was amputated well above the elbow. I just stared. I knew that I would have to go over to her and speak. I didn't know if she would remember me from our brief meeting several months ago. How would I explain how I had become armless too. I would think of something. Perhaps if I told her that it was yet too painful to talk about, that would give me time to think up a story.
I bravely walked up to Jill and reintroduced myself. She looked at me with shocked surprise. The odds of meeting another armless female in public was close to nil. She did remember me and how I had helped her. She never told me how she lost her first arm. She now said that she had a rare bone disease and that it had finally gotten the better of her other arm and it too had to be amputated. She also sadly told me that her legs were beginning to show the signs of the disease and that in all likelihood she would lose both legs within the next year. I didn't know what to say. I pictured her in a wheelchair both armless and legless. She asked me what had happened. I gave her a line that it was a freak accident and that I just couldn't bring myself to talk about it quite yet. Richard joined us and the three of us had lunch together. I think Richard was really tripped out by the sight of the two of us eating lunch using our hooks. Jill was quite a bit better at it than I was, but that would change. Jill suggested that the two of us come over to her house that evening for dinner and meet her husband Mark. The four of us would have a lot in common. We promised to get together at 7 PM that night. Jill gave us her address and it was close by. Richard and I spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up our shopping and then headed home to get ready for our dinner engagement. What a wonderful day.
Later I changed into a black sleeveless cocktail dress that came to above mid thigh length. I slipped on my 3" heels. I didn't think I would ever be able to wear that dress again because it had no sleeves. My prosthetic arms completely showed and it would be disturbing to most people. My hooks were bad enough. I didn't worry about this tonight, because I knew Mark would be used to seeing prosthetic limbs considering Jill's amputations. As we left I glanced in the mirror and liked what I saw.
We arrived right on time and were greeted by Jill. We went inside their apartment and Jill introduced us to Mark. Richard had a very strange look on his face.
"Don't we know each other?"
Mark thought for a minute and a smile came on his face.
"Yup, we met about a year ago because of our mutual interests."
It then came to Richard. Mark was a devotee too, and they had met after emailing on the Internet. This was beginning to get very interesting. At this point I didn't suspect that Jill was anything but what she claimed, a woman suffering from a rare disease.
It took about three hours into the evening, and many drinks, before all of us loosened up. As it turns out, Jill was just like me, a voluntary amputee. She had even gone to the same doctor. At first she had only one arm amputated. Mark and Jill enjoyed Jill's new one arm state for about a year. But after that, something was lacking. Things were too easy for Jill. She didn't feel quite right. Somehow the lack of symmetry of her arms bothered her. They discussed the issue and decided that Jill would have her other arm amputated as well. Of course that did take place and now Jill was much happier. We finally explained that I had opted for the double amputation right away.
"You made the right choice," Jill said. "It was better to do it all at once. It probably wasn't twice the pain as it was for me."
The evening went on and on as we shared our thoughts. Jill was wearing a sleeveless top and her usual short skirt. She didn't care that her prosthesis was as visible as mine. Mark said that he really liked Jill to wear only a bra when around the house. He said that she usually wore only a bra, panties, and heels while in the house. She also quite often wore a garter belt and stockings. Mark loved the look. I thought that I would try that for Richard. Life for Richard and I was the best. I was by now completely functional in using my hooks. I felt that I once again had real arms. Even though I couldn't feel anything below my stumps, it was like I really did have arms. As time went on I felt less and less handicapped. We continued to socialize with Jill and Mark. Jill and I would go out together frequently. We got a lot of looks, but didn't care. We loved to shop together and could help each other try things on. We often wondered what people thought as they looked at two beautiful women using their hooks. That gave us an even greater thrill. I was happier than I ever imagined I could be. Becoming armless was the best thing I ever did.
Slashdot Mirror
they sure did teach you homosexuality correctly
BELLEVUE, WA-- You may gloat now if you wish, but your deathmatch victory was cheaply won, and you will not fair so well in a rematch. If the playing field had been level, you most surely would have lost.
I'm ready for that rematch.
You see, I was disadvantaged from the start, with my 38 ping to your 30 ping. It is quite obvious to me that had those pings been reversed, you would have tasted the sweet load from my shotgun far more often than you did. Those 8 precious milliseconds were all you needed to evade my blasts.
And were it not for my inferior hardware, I would have squeezed those extra frames into victory. I would have had to be more than human to battle you with my mere 85 frames per second. It is truly sad that you would cheer, knowing that I was handicapped from the beginning.
Had I not been playing with a dirty mouseball on a worn-out mousepad, my twitch-like responses would have been more than enough to rail you mid-air. But alas, that and my coffee-soaked keyboard may have affected my play.
It seems barely worth mentioning that I had not even played that map before. It would be beneath me to say that I had barely gotten in my four hours practice time beforehand.
There were times during the match that I wished I didn't have two copies of Photoshop running in the background, and that I wasn't downloading MP3s from that private archive. And if my roommate hadn't been leeching ISOs off of my hard drive through the local network at the same time, I'm sure the outcome of our battle would have been much different.
But I think the turning point may have occurred either when that ICQ message popped me out of the gaming window, or when I spilled my can of 5-Alive. Had I been drinking cola like I should have, I'm sure we wouldn't even be having this discussion.
And there was that moment when I accidentally knocked out my monitor cable from my machine. Those few seconds certainly cost me a frag. But that pales in comparison to the instant I hit my Windows key just when I had you in my crosshairs.
I know it was my own fault answering that telephone call from my girlfriend mid-match. I had to get up anyways to let my dog outside for a pee. But none of that would have mattered had my chair wheel not gotten caught in that rut in the carpet.
So you see, it is apparent to me that your win was not entirely based on your skill. It is quite clear that you were lucky.
But I must take at least some blame. I really shouldn't have rebinded all my keys when I noticed I was using my CTF config, and I'm sure I didn't help my own cause by readjusting my mouse sensitivity while you were gathering weapons.
So I think it is only fair to both of us that we replay that match on my server. Good luck.
I hate asians as much as I hate you AC
you "touch" it
use a real browser like IE
sexAy BSD chix0r!!!!111
Is it actually supported by any devices? Not even Ogg Vorbis has hardware support...
for good reason...ogg vorbis is shit
What would actually be nice is to have a device like this with a giant (120 GB or so) HD that could rip to uncompressed WAV if desired.
since when is 120GB giant and why the fuck take up all the space on this giant drive with WAV when VBR or 320kps mp3 sounds better???
hey captian shitbarge...obviously he misread the post or doesnt know about microsofts entertainment station thing (i forget what its called b4 you try and flame me as well) so maybe you should stop flaming people with your nerderific logic! mommy is calling you upstairs..kthx
but you both use bananas as instruments of pleasure
you can find a very comprehensive overview of XP developement and service pack changes here
About baby Tony
My variation is similar to others, yet still my own. Each of ours is different enough in our diaper history to keep our individuality.
I remember a neighbor girl from when I was in grade 1 (6 years old). Her 5 year old brother was in kindergarten. I asked why he never came out to play after coming home from school. She told me that her mom put him into diaper as soon as he came home because he always wet his pants ( kindergarten was a half day so he usually came home in wet pants ). Sometimes I'd see him sitting in his bedroom window wearing plastic pant covered diapers. That's when the fascination began.
At that age I would rather play outside rather then go home to go to the bathroom ( you may not be allowed back out to play if it was getting late ) Occasionally up till age 7 I might wet my pants if not able to find a private bush to relieve myself, but that was no big deal to me, beyond the embarrassment. I was also chronically constipated. To this day I do not understand why and it can still be a problem. This did however lead to messy pants as a regular event. I just couldn't hold it in and it would ooze out over several hours. I know that many people suspected, but it seems to be the nature of people that they will not raise this kind of a subject, so I was only confronted once when I was about 14. A quick denial backed them off. I truly feel that the discoverer is as uncomfortable as the one discovered! I did not come to this conclusion until 25 years later. In between were the diaper curiosities that re-emerged during my teen years followed by semi-fulltime diaper wearing after I left home and was able to live alone. (you've heard all the homemade stuff and first time buys, so I will not repeat them )
The most profound discovery was that once I put myself back into diapers I was no longer constipated. I really believe that diapers have saved my health. I went to doctors all through my youth and went through boxes of administered suppositories and enemas, to no lasting success. Now I'm morning regular, although if I travel, or visit, I immediately become constipated. I seem to have a psycho-physiological need to wear diapers for my excremental bodily needs. I'm not incontinent but do have a very weak bladder. Many times I've had to get off a bus early to find a lane or bush to relieve myself, with no hope of making it home. If I drink one beer I will piss 2 beers worth within an hour, in 6 visits. Very frustrating! I wear diapers whenever I am by myself, in public or not, and always have them stashed under my car seat. ( I wear Goodnights to work, as I only weigh 130 pounds, so they fit like a small pair of underwear)
I prefer to wear cloth for comfort and price but always have disposables around for travel, convenience, discretion and for the morning regularity.
Here is my story.
When I was about 5 or 6 years old, I had an incontinence problem. I had been potty trained since I was about 2 or so, so I had been wearing big boy underpants for quite a while. My youngest brother was 3 at the time, so he was also out of diapers.
When I was outside playing, I wouldn't want to stop to go potty, so I would leak a little. After a few episodes of this, my mother decided that the way to deal with this was to get the diapers out again. So out came the old birdseye diapers, the diaper pins and the plastic pants. She would lay me out on the floor with my father and brothers present and diaper me for the night. If I woke dry the next morning, she would let me put on my big boy underpants, otherwise, she would change me and make me wear diapers all day. Must be she thought that it would humiliate me to have to go to school with my diapers on. But it didn't bother me - I wasn't old enough to realize that I shouldn't be wearing them. Besides, I didn't have to ask the teacher to go potty - I could just sit there at my desk and potty in my diaper. I quickly discovered that I liked wearing my diapers much more than wearing my big boy underpants. About that time, mom discovered that her tactic wasn't working, so she asked if I didn't want to stop wearing diapers and get back into my underwear. Of course, I figured it out then and said "yes, I want to wear my underpants." But I really didn't, so I kept wetting every chance I got. I just loved the soft cloth against my skin and the bulk between my legs felt nice. Besides, the warm feeling I got when I peed my diaper stayed with me all day. It got to the point where I didn't want mom to put me in a dry diaper. Lots of time, I would save my pee after I had wet some time before so that when she changed me, I could immediately go to my room and wet my diaper again. This went on for about 2 years. I don't think I stayed dry for longer than 3 hours the entire two years.
After two years, mom figured out that I liked wearing diapers, so she stopped. The embarrassment of the other kids laughing at me when I peed myself stopped that part. But that entire period left me with a life long love of wearing and wetting diapers.
After mom took me out of diapers when I was about 8, I decided that I would take matters into my own hands. When she was out and I was home alone, I would sneak into her bedroom and find where she had stored the diapers. Then I took some back to my room for my own use. I would pin the diaper on myself and put my plastic pants on and then wet and/or poop in my diaper. I did this until I was about 12.
As a matter of fact, my very first orgasm was wearing diapers at about age 11. I was pooping and I had to get every last little bit out. So I squatted down in my room and really hunkered down and pushed hard. There was a sort of different feeling this time, so I just kept pushing harder and harder to get the last bit out. All of a sudden, I felt this rhythmic contraction that squeezed out the last bit and it felt really good. Only when I later changed myself did I find what I later learned was semen in my diaper.
After that, I would wet and poop and try to have an orgasm in my diaper every chance I got. I finally gave it up about a year later when it became problematical to clean up my dirty diapers without one of my brothers or my mother catching me.
When I got older and had an apartment by myself, I quickly bought some diapers. I wouldn't wear them out in public, but I would often wear a bulky diaper to bed so I wouldn't have to get up at night and go to the bathroom. I would just lay there and contentedly pee in my diaper. I often wouldn't even get up for #2 either - I would just lay in my bed and poop my diaper too.
Now, I would like to capture those feeling again.
silly Ass Clown...gay sex isnt allowed on TV
The special night with mommy Kate;
.
.She dried me off and laid me down on the bed and to my surprise she told me babies don't have any hair on there bottoms and she proceeded to shave my hair off! By now I was very excited! She then she told me to roll over and to my surprise she started to shave my bottom. I felt like a small child again! I laid there while she cleaned up the shaving stuff and when she came back she had a thermometer and said babies get there temperature taken in there bottom she pushed the thermometer into my rectum and made me hold it in there until she was ready to remove it. She said that I did not have a fever and that there was no excuse for wetting my diaper. With that statement she started spanking me with the paddle! I started to cry and she pushed the pacifier into my mouth. But she was not done punishing me yet. She started spanking me with a doubled over belt! Boy, was my bottom sore! She did not stop until I started jumping all around the bed! When she finally stopped spanking me she started to rub lotion all over my tender bottom until I stopped crying. Then to my surprise she pushed two suppositories into my rectum and told me to roll over on my clean diaper then she put lotion on my front and it sure felt good especially since there was no hair there! After spreading on some baby powder she fixed the tabs on the disposable diaper and pulled on the plastic pants . Mommy then tucked me into bed and gave me a big kiss goodbye she left saying I would be a very messy baby by morning!
The evening began with the call to inform her where to meet. While I was waiting I put on a diaper, plastic pants , and a pair of sweat pants. While I waited for her to arrive I wet my diaper twice! Boy is she going to be mad at me! Mommy warned me the last time I wet my diaper that if it happened again I would be punished and that I was to old to still wear diapers
Then came the knock on the door. I started to get butterflies in my stomach. When mommy came in she looked me right in the eyes and asked me if I wet my diaper. I was so scared I could not even answer her. She started to pull down my sweat pants and scolded me for wetting my diaper again. She removed my diaper and gave me a couple of good swats on my bare behind then she told me she would have to give the dirty baby a bath! She started to bathe me cleaning every part, especially my privates I was really embarrassed to have to be bathed by mommy
But that another story.
Thank you Mommy Kate
Love Baby Georgie.
dont you mean "open source homosexuality"
Hooked for Life
by Vicki
My name is Ann. I am a 28 year old woman and happily married to a wonderful man. I am also an amputee. This is my story.
For as long as I can remember I have had a fascination with the thought of being an amputee. When I would see another woman who was missing a leg, or more desirably, an arm, I would get an enormous sexual arousal. I fantasized what life would be like if I was an amputee who was loved and adored by a wonderful man. I was a true wannabe. I found others like me on the Internet and made friends quickly. I found that there were many devotee and wannabe men, but very few females with my interests. This is how I met Richard. He was not a wannabe, but rather a true devotee of amputee woman. He was searching for the ideal amputee woman to eventually marry. Even though I was not an amputee, we decided to date, since my interests were as unique as his.
We dated for a number of months. During that time we would spend hours looking at our picture collections. They were all of women in various states of amputation. You may find it odd that I was only interested in pictures of other women amputees. However, you must consider that I was a wannabe and NOT a devotee. I did not want an amputee man as a lover. I was not a lesbian either. The woman in my pictures were my envy. During our relationship I tried to become a pretend amputee. We went through the one legged routine, and even went out in public with me on crutches with my leg tied up. However, it just didn't seem to satisfy us. At this point I must confess that my amputee interests were not quite the norm. I really did not have a strong desire to have either or both of my legs amputated. I had fabulous legs and loved to wear very short skirts, pantyhose, and high heels. I loved the feel of crossing my legs and showing them off. I didn't think I wanted to lose this capability. However, my arms were my target. Somehow the thought of missing an arm, or better, both arms would thrill me. I felt that if I would become an arm amputee I would really like to be a bilateral above the elbow amputee. Somehow just one arm wasn't enough. My remaining arm would make things too easy for me. I had to have the true handicap of being armless. Also, I found the thought of being fitted with prosthetic arms with hooks to be a real sendoff. I wanted to experience a life in which I did everything with my hooks.
One of the things that Richard and I would do was to cruise malls and other public places in search of female amputees. A good sighting would leave an impression that would allow us to have the most exquisite sex imaginable after we got back to Richard's home. The sighting that was to become a pivotal factor in our future was truly memorable. We were at the local mall and we spotted a woman about 30 years old sitting at a table in the food area. She was drinking a cup of coffee. She was very well dressed and wearing a short skirt and white silk blouse. What gave us an immediate thrill was the fact that her left sleeve terminated in a gleaming prosthetic hook. We could tell she was an above elbow amputee as she did not have the dexterity that a below elbow amputee would have had. We decided to follow her discreetly. She went into a major department store and into the misses sportswear section. We watched her as she used her hook to help examine clothing on the racks. She was gorgeous and both Richard and I were really getting turned on -- Richard because of seeing a beautiful amputee woman -- and me because I truly envied her.
What was to happen next is almost beyond words to describe. The woman headed for the ladies room. Of course I wanted to follow her. Richard had to wait outside, but I went in right after her. She went into a stall and I went into the stall next to her. We both exited the stalls at the same time and she went to the sink to rinse her one good hand. I went up to the sink next to her. I couldn't help but look right at her hook. To me it was a thing of great envy. I can't believe I said it, but I made up a complete lie.
"My brother lost an arm after a motorcycle accident and I know how difficult it can be."
"I am used to it, but sometimes there are some annoyances, like right now," she replied. "My harness has ridden up and is driving me crazy."
"Can I help?" I asked her.
"I don't want to impose, but could you help me take off my blouse and help me adjust my harness so I can work the cable controls more easily?" My heart leaped at the thought, to be able to see close up what an above elbow prosthesis looked like on a real woman.
"I would be happy to help," I eagerly replied.
The woman introduced herself as Jill. She suggested we go into the handicapped stall as she didn't want to alarm the other woman if any should come into the ladies room. We went into the handicapped stall which was nice and large. I unbuttoned Jill's silk blouse and helped her slip it off. She had on a beautiful satin and lace bra that held her very ample breasts. It was then that I got a full view of her prosthetic arm. I almost fainted. It was fabulous. I could see the socket for her above elbow stump, the special elbow joint with its control cable, and finally the other control cable running down to the hook that was screwed into her forearm. I knew then that I wanted to be fitted with an arm just like this, more than anything in the world. Better yet, two. I helped Jill adjust the harness and then get her blouse back on. She thanked me again and again for my help. After I went back outside I told Richard that we had to go to his place right away as I was in a state of unbelievable sexual arousal. I told him every detail.
After that experience we would talk for hours about how wonderful it would be if I was like Jill. I continued to fantasize about becoming an arm amputee. I decided that if I ever did, it would have to be above the elbow and absolutely had to be bilateral. I wanted both stumps to have prosthetic arms and, of course, nothing else but hooks. No artificial hands for me. The thought of being out with Richard with just my hooks showing from the sleeves of a tight sweater was almost too much to handle. I thought of the difficulty I would have in daily activities and that made me more excited. Our discussions went on for several weeks until Richard told me that he found out that there was a way in which I could actually be granted my wish. It had become his wish as well. He found out about a very special clinic in which special "cosmetic" surgeries of all kinds would be performed for the right price. Richard was quite well off financially and the cost would not be a problem. Was I really going to consider this? What about my job and my few other friends? After long periods of contemplation I decided that I really did want to go through with it. Richard offered to marry me if I went through with the amputations. I would no longer have to work and he would take care of me.
Three weeks later I was admitted to the clinic. It was a really weird place, but run by very skilled doctors who were more interested in money than anything else. Doctor Smith, not his real name, was to do my surgery. I never did find out his real name as none of the staff used their real names. He explained that my arms would be amputated about 3 inches above the elbows. That would give me a stump that would make the use of prosthetic arms more successful. I had told him that I wanted prosthetic arms very much. The day of my surgery came. I was thrilled. When I awoke later in the afternoon, my arms were bandaged. I could see that all I had left were my stumps. Richard was there and he kissed me. For a few moments I had the feeling that I made a terrible mistake. There was no going back though. It was too late. I wondered where my arms were. Did they pack them in ice? How do they dispose of them. It was an interesting thought, but I put it out of my mind.
For the next month I rapidly recovered. My stumps were healing. Richard helped with everything. Of course he had to feed and bathe me, and take care of helping me go to the bathroom. He followed the doctor's directions and wrapped my healing stumps in elastic bandages to keep the swelling down. During this period we had some fabulous sex, although it was a little different since I couldn't use my hands to caress Richard's manhood. I tried using my stumps, and that was a turn on. Richard said he couldn't wait until I could use me hooks on him. That was the day we were both waiting for.
The time finally came for me to get fitted for my prosthetic arms. My first visit involved the prosthetist taking plaster molds of my two stumps. They would be used to mold the sockets that my stumps would fit into. He said it would be about a week until the arms were ready. We couldn't wait. The days dragged by. The moment I was waiting for ever since seeing Jill's arm had finally arrived. The prosthetist brought the two arms over to us. The harness was already attached, but would need adjustment. I couldn't believe this was really happening to me. He and Richard unwrapped the thin bandages I still wore on my stumps. He asked me to raise my stumps. He then slipped a special stump sock over both stumps. It consisted of the two socks connected by a piece of the same material, that stretched over my shoulders and across my upper back. Next came the arms. I slipped my stumps into the sockets. The feeling was incredible. I knew I was soaking wet between my legs. I was as turned on as I could ever be. The prosthetist then adjusted the harness. The arms felt great. I looked down at the two hooks. My heart pounded. Was this really the way I would be for the rest of my life? I just couldn't believe it. After the fitting I received about two hours of initial training. Of course I would undergo many more hours learning to use my hooks.
Before we left I was able to raise and lower my new arms and open and close the hooks. I still had difficulty coordinating. I had to remember to unlock the elbow lock with one motion that controlled the elbow cable, and then use the other control motion on the main cable to raise or lower the arm. If I wanted to open or close the hook I had to lock the elbow first, or the arm would just raise. It took some practice. During this practice session I was just wearing my bra, to enable the prosthetist to see everything functioning. I got the feeling I was turning him on too. Now it was time to go. Richard helped my put on my sweater. It nicely covered my arms, my hooks descending below the sleeves.
"We're going out to dinner," Richard said. "To celebrate." We had not gone out since before my amputations. I didn't want to be seen armless. This would be a night I would always remember.
"Oh Richard, I don't know if I can handle it," I exclaimed.
"Don't worry, I will feed you if you can't manage. Let's play it be ear."
Before we left I looked in the mirror in the prosthetist's office and saw a beautiful woman wearing a very short skirt, black nylons, high heels, and having two gleaming hooks for hands. I had all I could do to stand up I was so turned on. I had dreamed of this for years. Now it was to be my reality. I would be hooked for life.
We drove to a nearby restaurant that was very elegant. I wondered what the reactions would be when we went in. Most people didn't notice us as the restaurant lights were fairly dim. The few people that did were obvious in their attempts not to stare. The hostess seated us at a table that allowed me to sit next to Richard so he could help to feed me. I was not yet able to use my hooks for eating a complete meal. I did struggle to do a few things for myself, but there was a lot to learn. We asked the waitress for a straw so I could drink without lifting the glass. Most of the time I had my hooks resting in my lap. I am sure that some people from far away wondered why Richard was feeding me. Those who were sitting close by would naturally realize my situation. I had several drinks and I felt wonderful. After desert we were anxious to get home.
The rest of the evening was to be the fulfillment of our sexual lust for each other, and especially now that I had my two new hooks. Richard undressed me down to my panties and bra. We couldn't get the bra off because the straps were under my harness. That item would have to wait since neither of us wanted me to be without my hooks. I then slowly undressed Richard with a little help on the hard parts. I used my hooks to pull down his underpants. He was as erect as it was possible to be. He pleaded with me to use my hooks to fondle his penis. As I tried this out he pulled me to the bed and kissed me. My arms were still extended to his crotch and my hooks were gently massaging his manhood. I regretted that I couldn't actually feel him with my hooks. However, I knew that later I would use my stumps to touch him and I would have exquisite feelings as my stumps rubbed him all over.
In the morning, it was the beginning of the weekend, I awoke quite early. I was so excited. I couldn't wait to get my arms back on and continue to practice using my hooks. I nudged Richard awake with my stumps.
"Let's get going, I have a busy day planned for us," I said.
"Do you want me to give you a bath before breakfast?"
"Let's do it," I replied.
Richard ran the water for me and I got into the tub. Richard carefully washed me all over and shaved my legs and under my stumps. He then dried me carefully. I said that I wanted to get my arms on as soon as possible so I could try to see if I could put on some of my own clothes. I needed Richard to put my bra on for me. I would never be able to do that. Not with a regular bra that is. He then helped with the stump socks and then the arms. The thrill was back. I took a look down at my shiny hooks and felt so good.
I was about to see if I could put on my own panties when I realized that I was about to get my period. I noticed some slight spotting on the panties of my nightie. Ever since I was a teenager I have been using tampons. I had a box of Tampax in the vanity. I asked Richard to get one out. I then wondered if I could do this myself and if Richard would want to watch. I explained what I had in mind and he said it would be a big turn on to see me struggle to insert the tampon with my hooks. I worked at it for 15 minutes. Richard watched the whole time and I noticed he was hard as a rock. I must have really turned him on. I had a lot of trouble but managed to unwrap the tampon. I grabbed it with my right hook and positioned it as best as I could for insertion. I had to try and try to get the hook into position to make the insertion into my vagina. I finally did get it started and pushed the applicator to the right depth. What was really tricky was using my other hook to push the tampon out of the applicator. When I had hands I used my index finger to do this. I was so proud when I finally managed to do it. I pulled the applicator out and held it over the waste basket and opened my hook. It dropped down silently. I then grasped my panties with both hooks and managed to pull them up. I was so pleased. I wasn't up to trying to put on pantyhose. That is very difficult and there is a risk of running the nylon. Richard did it for me. He then helped me with my usual very short miniskirt and with a beautiful white blouse. I slipped my feet into 3" heels to complete my outfit. Richard then combed my hair and put on my makeup. After doing this for some weeks now he was getting pretty good at it. Eventually I was able to do quite a bit of this myself. Holding makeup brushes was easy, but opening the little plastic boxes was another thing. I looked into the full length mirror on the door and was once again thrilled at my appearance.
I told Richard that I wanted to spend the entire day at the mall. I had a few things I wanted to buy and I wanted to show off my new hooks. Rather than use the over the shoulder style handbags that I used when I had arms, I now used a small pouch that belted around my waist. It contained the few essentials that I would need, some makeup, and a couple of Tampax tampons since the one I was wearing would need changing. I wasn't looking forward to this task because it was so difficult. We headed for the car and I felt so wonderful. I wasn't worried about being in public. I had gotten over that already. In fact, the stares gave me a funny kind of pleasure. There are very few double arm amputees and I had the pleasure of being in that very small group. The one thing I really wanted to do was to meet another female double arm amp like me. Little did I know at that time, but that wish would be granted sooner than I realized.
We arrived at the mall around 10:30 in the morning. I made sure my arms were not locked at the elbows so when I walked my arms would swing slightly and look more natural. Of course everyone could see my hooks below the sleeves of my blouse. We headed for the lingerie department of my favorite store. I wanted to buy some new bras and panties. I started to practice using my hooks by lifting both arms to about 90 degrees and locking the elbows. I could then open and close my hooks to grasp the bras and panties on the racks. It was really fun to do this. I was very proud when I was able to carry several bras and panties up to the sales counter and place them there. The sales clerk, a girl in her teens, was very nervous when she saw that I had no hands, only two hooks. Richard paid her and she put everything in a bag. She wasn't sure if she should hand it to me or not. I helped her embarrassing moment by saying that I would take it. I opened my right hook and grasped the bag. She awkwardly helped to slip it between my open hook. I let the hook close, unlocked the elbow and let the arm slowly drop. I was able to carry the bag with no effort and I said to Richard that I wanted to carry it.
Everything was going well when I realized that I had to go to the bathroom. I wasn't sure I could do this without Richard's help. I decided to try. I went into the ladies room and found an empty stall. Fortunately all the doors just pushed open. I couldn't possibly turn a door knob. I slid the lock with my hook. Next came the task of pulling my skirt up and getting my pantyhose and panties down. Getting them down wasn't so bad. I grabbed the sides and pushed them down as little as necessary to make the job of getting them back on easier. I sat down and relieved myself. I decided to change my tampon as well. Good thing, I was flowing pretty heavily. I was proud of myself as I was able to do this faster than the last time. Now came the struggle to get my panties up. The front was easy, but the back didn't want to pull up. I tried to get my hooks in back, but couldn't open them. Eventually I managed to do the job. The pantyhose were a nightmare. If it weren't for the heavier panty part I would have run them. I really couldn't get them exactly in position, but they would have to do. Richard was used to making sure my pantyhose were nicely positioned at my crotch. Some things were just too difficult with hooks. All in all I think it took me 20 minutes to get the job done.
"How did you make out?" Richard asked when I finally left the ladies room.
"Nearly impossible, but I did it."
"That must have been fun," Richard joked.
"Oh yeah," I retorted sarcastically. "Especially the tampon!"
After that Richard and I walked into the food court to grab a snack. I was getting quite hungry after our morning of shopping. Richard suggested that we find a seat and he would get the food after he put all my shopping bags down. We found a vacant table. As we were getting settled and considering what food to get, I noticed the woman several tables away. I couldn't believe my eyes. It was Jill, the woman who had catalyzed my decision to become armless. My jaw dropped in complete amazement as I expected to see her one good arm and instead saw that she now had two hooks showing below her sleeves. Apparently she had somehow lost her other arm and was now as armless as I was. I wasn't sure at the time, but would find out that that arm too was amputated well above the elbow. I just stared. I knew that I would have to go over to her and speak. I didn't know if she would remember me from our brief meeting several months ago. How would I explain how I had become armless too. I would think of something. Perhaps if I told her that it was yet too painful to talk about, that would give me time to think up a story.
I bravely walked up to Jill and reintroduced myself. She looked at me with shocked surprise. The odds of meeting another armless female in public was close to nil. She did remember me and how I had helped her. She never told me how she lost her first arm. She now said that she had a rare bone disease and that it had finally gotten the better of her other arm and it too had to be amputated. She also sadly told me that her legs were beginning to show the signs of the disease and that in all likelihood she would lose both legs within the next year. I didn't know what to say. I pictured her in a wheelchair both armless and legless. She asked me what had happened. I gave her a line that it was a freak accident and that I just couldn't bring myself to talk about it quite yet. Richard joined us and the three of us had lunch together. I think Richard was really tripped out by the sight of the two of us eating lunch using our hooks. Jill was quite a bit better at it than I was, but that would change. Jill suggested that the two of us come over to her house that evening for dinner and meet her husband Mark. The four of us would have a lot in common. We promised to get together at 7 PM that night. Jill gave us her address and it was close by. Richard and I spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up our shopping and then headed home to get ready for our dinner engagement. What a wonderful day.
Later I changed into a black sleeveless cocktail dress that came to above mid thigh length. I slipped on my 3" heels. I didn't think I would ever be able to wear that dress again because it had no sleeves. My prosthetic arms completely showed and it would be disturbing to most people. My hooks were bad enough. I didn't worry about this tonight, because I knew Mark would be used to seeing prosthetic limbs considering Jill's amputations. As we left I glanced in the mirror and liked what I saw.
We arrived right on time and were greeted by Jill. We went inside their apartment and Jill introduced us to Mark. Richard had a very strange look on his face.
"Don't we know each other?"
Mark thought for a minute and a smile came on his face.
"Yup, we met about a year ago because of our mutual interests."
It then came to Richard. Mark was a devotee too, and they had met after emailing on the Internet. This was beginning to get very interesting. At this point I didn't suspect that Jill was anything but what she claimed, a woman suffering from a rare disease.
It took about three hours into the evening, and many drinks, before all of us loosened up. As it turns out, Jill was just like me, a voluntary amputee. She had even gone to the same doctor. At first she had only one arm amputated. Mark and Jill enjoyed Jill's new one arm state for about a year. But after that, something was lacking. Things were too easy for Jill. She didn't feel quite right. Somehow the lack of symmetry of her arms bothered her. They discussed the issue and decided that Jill would have her other arm amputated as well. Of course that did take place and now Jill was much happier. We finally explained that I had opted for the double amputation right away.
"You made the right choice," Jill said. "It was better to do it all at once. It probably wasn't twice the pain as it was for me."
The evening went on and on as we shared our thoughts. Jill was wearing a sleeveless top and her usual short skirt. She didn't care that her prosthesis was as visible as mine. Mark said that he really liked Jill to wear only a bra when around the house. He said that she usually wore only a bra, panties, and heels while in the house. She also quite often wore a garter belt and stockings. Mark loved the look. I thought that I would try that for Richard. Life for Richard and I was the best. I was by now completely functional in using my hooks. I felt that I once again had real arms. Even though I couldn't feel anything below my stumps, it was like I really did have arms. As time went on I felt less and less handicapped. We continued to socialize with Jill and Mark. Jill and I would go out together frequently. We got a lot of looks, but didn't care. We loved to shop together and could help each other try things on. We often wondered what people thought as they looked at two beautiful women using their hooks. That gave us an even greater thrill. I was happier than I ever imagined I could be. Becoming armless was the best thing I ever did.
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does anyone besides me think that jon katz is a flaming homosexual?
go outside...you're still pasty white
denying you???
I agree with this post. check this out...yes it says goatse.cx but it isnt the main page
someone explain to me how this is at all funny