I think what amazes me most is how people somehow have opinions on how other's live their lives. I'm not poopooing on your life choices to pay a mortgage you can't affort and wear your life away so you will never have even been able to enjoy it. I never told you not to do what makes you happy--not to be your best self. But that must be the issue. I am happy and you are not. Well if you ever decide to be a limbless squirming nugget like me, working full time at a fetish club, see me in my DMs.

So yeah. I was diagnosed with BID about 15 years ago and it was like a breath of fresh air. I went through all the steps. Saw a therapist, got the requisite pinky amputation to prove my intentions, by the book. But at some point I had to take things into my own hands--or..shoulders..hardly.

It was weird seeing my first stump. I always thought it was going to be a huge ordeal. I was gonna have to deal with my family, I'd have to check in at a hospital for a nights stay--but things have advanced so much by that point, I basically went to an old school tattoo studio to get the job done!

The place was really cool. In fact they did do tattoos but like many businesses, any opportunity to profit is usually taken. They had the tools necessary to perform gender operation, amputate limbs, and some other really kind stuff like tongue elongation and osteo-integrated sub-cutaneous hoof replacement...it was wild but the clientel was big!

The machine they used looked like a tiny MRI machine, a big plastic circle basically encompassed the table I was laying on. Basically you stick whatever part of the body you're doing work on and the machine keeps track of the unrestrained limb, and uses lasers, micro needles and scalpels and micro-robotic appendages to do almost anything you could imagine.

I cringed the first time the amputation artist disarticulated my right-hand pinky finger and I just couldn't look! I was amazed to look back and see my finger with a thin red line right where it met my hand.

"You're good to go!" The artist said.

I moved my hand, and pulled aware slowly. My hand, and four fingers followed my command, but my smallest finger stayed behind. There was a small round piece of cotton somehow attached to the end of the finger. I imagine to keep people from freaking out and seeing their own insides. Nowadays limbs can basically be sealed off with a newer version of this material and donated to others who need it.

I held my hand up and the only evidence that I ever had a finger was a small bandage where it had once stood proud on my hand. Wow, I thought to myself, I just had my finger amputated. I'm an amputee. I'm missing a finger! A wave of ecstasy washed over me. This really was the right decision. I am so thankful for modern technology!

By the time I got my first amputation my intention was to have an arm removed. Of course, the medical community doesn't just let you get any old limb removed on a whim, or people would end up missing much more than they thought they needed. So anyone who wanted a significant amputation, from hands to entire legs, had to first amputate a digit from the same limb. Since I wanted my right arm off, or so I thought, I got my right pinky finger removed.

I loved the constant "empty" feeling on my hand. I didn't use it much considering it didn't feel part of my body, but any time I had to, I would be reminded that I am finally an amputee. It's amazing to consider just how important the pinky is in every day life too. It adds so much gripping power to things. It also adds a bit of fine control over the things you do, and not having that any more just felt right to me.

I knew I was ready, and I got through the excruciating 6-month evaluation period just barely. The feeling of novelty of missing a single finger wore off almost completely and I was feeling some of the same negative feelings I did before my finger amputation. I couldn't wait finally be missing my arm.

I pretended much more up until the day of my removal. I loved the challenge of being bound up with one arm to my side. I really wish I had an understanding partner so I could also bind my left arm! It was just the perfect feeling being in a position where you couldn't do what most other people can. It was uncomfortable having to deal with the belt, and so often, but I knew that soon it would be gone at the shoulder, a shoulder disarticulation.

I did all my research and I knew that a disarticulation would mean my entire arm would be removed, with no arm bone left over. If I tried to reach out, or wave at a friend, all that would happen would be some small twitched of the leftover muscle in my shoulder, used to cover the empty joint. But that's all I needed. Just like the emptiness left by my finger, the helpless twitch of muscles that used to control such a significant limb was delectable.

I arrived at the studio--the same one where I had my finger removed. I was nervous for the day and was really afraid I would regret the decision. I tried best I could to calm my nerves sat down in the waiting area. Across the room was a cute girl, with gorgeous long brown hair and a very earthy energy about her. I could almost hear the upbeat music she was listening to on her small earbuds. Her pert medium sized breasts stretched the fabric of her shirt just a little bit and perfectly accented her relatively small torso and wide hips.

The girl was also missing one of her legs. Her stump was only stuck out about four inches from her hip and once in a while it would twich, probably to the beat of what she was listening to. She looked up at me and smiled. Noticing my missing finger she said, "Oh, are you here to get what you want?"

I was confused. I'm not here to get what I want...right? I always felt like I needed this, but it was always hard to feel like this is something I wanted. I needed this...right? "Im sorry, what do you mean?"

"Oh, haha, I mean are you here to finally get the amputation you really need? Sorry if I'm intruding!" She blushed and re-arranged herself in her seat, lifting her body by the handles of her chair and stuffing her stump under her full leg, almost like she was making it cozy.

"I'm here to have another amputation, yea. I was diagnosed with BID and I'm getting my arm removed." It still felt really weird actually saying it, but always had been a relieve any time someone new found out about my desires...I mean needs.

"Oh wow! That's going to look so good on you. You have the perfect collar bones for an arm amputation."

"Re-really? I never really thought about..."

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry I don't mean to barge into your life like I know what's going on with you just because I also got an amputation. Good luck today!" she was so cute and energetic. I was stuck on her comment that my missing arm would actually look good.

"Thank you." I stole a few glances nervously, and she caught me a couple times and smiled.

"I'm here for a bilateral." she said.

"Oh, what's a bilateral?"

The girl swiped her outstretched fingers like a knife across her legs. "Im getting my left leg shortened, and my right one removed at the same level.

I'm sure I got visibly red at that point. This girl is here to end up completely legless? "You wouldn't be able to walk anymore!" I blurted out in a frisson of nervous energy.

"Yeah! That's kind of the point. I never really felt like walking was for me. I also hate being as tall as I am. I really just vibe with being about three feet tall and not having a lap!" She giggled. I could tell she was completely serious though.

"Did you always want to be legless?" I asked her.

"Oh no. actually I never really thought I'd be here today, but, here I am! I started out as a SBK wannabe. I had my toe removed five years ago and my foot plus lower shin removed six months later."

"But your leg is a lot shorter than that..." I was so confused but I couldn't seem to add up everything the girl was saying and the shape of her body.

The girl threw her hands up and laughed. "Oh my gosh! You are so cute." She said with the brightest smile ever. "I had three stump revisions since then. Once I got my SBK done, I realized it was not enough. I came back here for a knee disarticulation and then a long AK amputation over the years. My last one was this little darling right here. She gently grabbed her leg stump in both hands, holding like some sort of fatty big burrito. "Today though I'm getting it shortened even further. It's not gonna stick out any farther than a couple inches." I noticed that was the same distance her breasts stuck out. I wonder if that wasn't just a coincidence. "And I'm having my other leg removed at the same length!"

"Oh wow. That's such a huge jump. You wouldn't want to do it a little at a time like your other leg?"

"It was a bit of an epiphany actually. I spent so much time removing bit by bit from one leg and I realized--it's not about how long one leg is, it's that I need both gone! Somehow matching my other leg to the first one doesn't feel like any more than a small revision. It's just answering the question I had and I'm confident what that answer is. Does that make sense?"

I think she asked me because I probably looked dumb struck. She wasn't done when she had her first real amputation? And now shes back to remove an entire other limb? What if one arm isn't where it stops? What if I'm never satisfied? I pushed the thought down. One step at a time to finish a big task like this.

The amputation artist poked his head around the corner and said the girl's name, "Riley? Can you come with me?"

"It was great meeting you..."

"Megan."

"Great yo meet you, Megan!"

"You too, Riley." She flashed that glorious smile back at me. She propped herself up on her one crutch and hopped into the back room. In about ten minutes Riley would be almost completely legless. She would no longer be able to get around on any leg and might even have to use a wheelchair for the rest of her life. Is that what Riley really wanted? Did she really consider how much she will be disabled in just a few minutes? I thought about myself and realized how convicted I was to lose my arm. I understood. It was unexplainable but I got that she just needed to be exactly who she was, no matter the cost.

"Megan? Can you come with me?"