Dr. Abrevia Ch. 01byowengreybeard©
The sexy skies
This is the first in a series of vignettes concerning the career of Dr. Owen Abrevia, a physician specializing in body modifications of all kinds, but specializing in servicing the particular needs of acrotomophiliacs. For a little background, see my prior story, 'Not quite a regular guy', although this takes place about a year later. Some romance here; mostly, I've let the inner fetishes loose. All characters are at least several moments older than the age of 18.
"Hello, Owen? It's Sarah."
As if he wouldn't recognize her voice.
"Hello, sweetness. How's everything? He said, smiling.
"Everything's fine, except my favorite guy hasn't shown his face for a long, long time, and I'm getting lonely. When are you coming down to sunny Southern Oregon?"
"It's only been two months, love. I'm still making preparations to change my practice around. But I do have an idea, if you're game and have a little time off. Interested?"
"If it involves you and me, I'm always interested, love. I can probably get a couple of weeks off since the Outdoor Season has started here at the Festival. What do you have in mind?
I'm sending a jet to the airport on Tomorrow morning. Be at Million-air at 10:00. I'll be waiting for you when you land. I thought we'd go to a little place out in the San Juan Islands for a week or so."
"Oh my God, Owen, that's so great!" Sarah squealed. "I need to go shopping!"
"I thought you might say that, so you'll be getting a visit in the next hour or so. It will be a person from American Express, delivering your new Amex Black Card. Don't buy too much today, though, I want to take you shopping when you get here, OK?" he said.
"A handsome man who wants to take me shopping? Pinch me, somebody. Oh, by the way, what's the credit limit on the card? I don't want to run out of money." Sarah said teasingly.
"You really do live in a small town, don't you, gorgeous? The whole point in a Black Amex is that there is no limit. You could buy a small country with the card I'm sending you."
"Why?" she said softly.
"Why am I so special to you?"
"Because I've never felt like this ever before, Sarah. When I'm with you, it's like I'm out of breath with excitement all the time. I am in a business where people do things mostly for selfish reasons, but in spite of the fact that you are well aware that I'm very wealthy, you've never asked for anything but for me to spend my time with you. I'm in love with you, and I'm giving you fair warning that I'm going to spend every moment of the time we're together trying to get you to love me."
"Would it change your plans if I told you you've already accomplished your mission?"
"Oh, there's a knock at the door. I'll see you tomorrow, OK?"
"I can't wait, Darling."
"And Owen?" she whispered.
"I love you."
Sarah put the phone back on the wall cradle, turned and hopped to the door, her leg stump flipping randomly up and down with her hops. She made no effort to control its movement, and when she reached the door, it slowly swung to a stop. She opened the door, and immediately felt self-conscious of her t-shirt and shorts-clad body. Before her stood an impeccably dressed young woman in a business pantsuit, bearing a black velvet box tied with a silver ribbon. Just beyond her was a uniformed security guard. A stainless Kimber .45 pistol rode snugly in a black leather holster at his right hip, and his right hand rested gently upon its grip.
"Do I have the pleasure of addressing Ms. Sarah Marston?" the woman said, her Irish accent belying her origins.
"I'm Sarah. How may I help you?" she responded.
"I am a duly authorized representative of the American Express Company. Dr. Owen Abrevia has selected you to receive his alternate Amex Black Card. I need permission to verify your fingerprints. Please place your right index finger on the biometrics pad of this miniature computer."
She opened the box, and then the lid of a tiny black laptop. A red pad glowed dimly to the left of the keyboard, and the woman placed Sarah's finger gently on the indentation. A soft beep sounded, and the screen lit up with the American Express logo, then played a brief message from the President of the company, welcoming Sarah by name to the folds of the 'Centurions', apparently holders of the black card. The woman explained that the computer would give her a record of the card's use anywhere there was cell reception. She then lifted out an ebony and gold box, turning it toward Sarah as she opened it. Inside were two American Express cards. It was concisely explained to Sarah that one was the Black Card, which could be identified by the fact that it was made of Titanium. The other card was to gain admission to exclusive clubs worldwide, but could not be used to charge. The list of clubs was also contained in the computer.
The woman shook Sarah's hand, the guard saluted, and they retreated to a black limousine and departed.
Sarah hopped back into the house and closed the door. Her mind reeling from the events of the morning, she hopped to the breakfast bar near the kitchen, placed the ebony box on the counter and sat on one of the high stools.
She sat pensively, a soft smile on her pretty face, her one long leg swinging gently as she sipped her coffee. Her left hand dropped absently to her stump, her fingers gently caressing the thin white scar at the upper edge of the end. As she rubbed, the lush nipples on her tiny breasts hardened and pushed urgently against the thin material of her tank top. Normally, this would have led to a swift masturbation session. Today, however, her thoughts were far away.
Sarah called Rogue Valley Town car Service the next morning, and just before 9:30, a sleek black Lincoln pulled up to her front door. The driver refused to let her carry her overnight bag, and handed her into the back seat with a smile, as well as a good look at her beautiful leg. Having never traveled in a private jet before, she wasn't sure about the dress code, if any, and so she had dressed casually. The temperature was over 85 already, so she'd chosen a short peach jacket over white linen slacks, the short leg cuffed to match its full length twin. A silk camisole peeked from inside the jacket, and, as was her habit, she'd worn neither panties nor a bra. The outfit wasn't new; she'd decided that any shopping she did would be more fun with Owen.
The Lincoln dropped her off at Million Air, and she was taken inside to a lounge, where a handsome dark haired young man took her bag and led her to a beautiful buffet. He informed her that the plane was being fueled and expected takeoff would be in about fifteen minutes. She gave her breakfast order to him, and he filled a plate for her and delivered her and it to a small table where she could watch the airplane being serviced. It was a rich deep blue in color, save for a stripe down the sides and the engines, which were gold.
"She's a Learjet 60R. She's very fast, very smooth. She's just had a major service after going back and forth between New York to London via Keflavik a couple of times," a voice from behind her spoke.
Sarah turned to find herself looking into the dark brown eyes of a stunning black woman in uniform. The four gold bars on her starched white shirt identified her as a Captain. The shirt was opened several buttons to reveal an impressive swell of breasts, and deep cleavage. Her waist narrowed sharply and swelled out again into wide hips snugly ensconced in blue uniform pants. Her deep brown skin was flawless, and her black hair was pulled into a high pony. Her ears were pierced, and brilliant blue 00 gauge glass plugs shone in her lobes.
The woman extended her hand and said, "Good morning. I'm Marla, and I'll be your Captain today. You must be Sarah," she said softly.
Recovering her voice after her initial reaction to the beautiful, Sarah stammered, "She's beautiful. Is she yours?"
The Captain smiled and laughed. "No honey, she's not mine. Dr. Abrevia co-owns her with a guy from Microsoft. He could afford to own her outright, but he doesn't travel much. Too busy working, I guess."
"Do you know Ow...I mean Dr. Abrevia?" Sarah said.
"Let's just say he's done some work for me, OK?" she looked down at her impressive cleavage and smiled. "And just between us, he doesn't mind if you call him Owen. In fact, he would probably let you call him anything you want, girl. He is smitten with you, Sarah. You're all he can talk about. Makes me sick," the woman said, and then laughed as Sarah's eyebrows tried to fly off her face. Marla pulled Sarah into a hug, and Sarah hugged her back. She somehow felt that she and this beautiful woman were going to become friends.
"Let me take your bag and we'll get underway," Marla said. She took Sarah's rollerboard and started off to the plane. Sarah noted as she followed Marla's hypnotically swaying ass out the silent glass doors that the woman was missing her right index finger.
Sarah handed Marla both of her crutches at the bottom of the planes stairway. Marla looked at the crutches and then at Sarah, then shrugged and went up the stairway. She turned just as Sarah grabbed both handrails and hopped up the stairs two at a time.
"Wow!" she said, her eyes wide.
"When you only have one, it gets stronger," Sarah explained with a smile.
The interior of the plane was unlike anything Sarah had ever seen. Taupe and ivory leather covered every seating surface, and all the rich wood in sight was a dark walnut color, highlighted by subtle touches of gold. The seats were wide, deep and very soft, looking much like expensive recliners with seatbelts. At the rear of the cabin, a bulkhead projected into the space, and as Sarah hopped to a nearby seat near the door, a tiny woman came out from behind the wall. She smiled and came forward to meet her guest. Her gait was strange, like her feet hurt, but her smile was so brilliant that Sarah forgot about anything else.
"Hi, Sarah, I'm Amy! I got the lucky straw and got to come down to meet you."
If not for her lovely curves, the girl might have been ten years old. Everything about her was petite, from her height, which Sarah estimated to be well under five feet, to her hands, which had grasped Sarah's in a dry, firm grip. She appeared to be of American Indian extraction, proud cheekbones lightly accented with make-up, and her black hair up on her head, held in a beautiful mother-of-pearl clasp. Her uniform was identical to Marla's, except that she had three bars on her epaulets instead of four. Her hips were somewhat narrow, but her bust was very nicely rounded, Sarah noticed with a touch of jealousy.
"You're the only passenger this morning, Sarah. Would you like me to stow your crutches, or would you like to keep them close by?" she said.
"You can take them, Amy. I don't usually use them for short distances anyway."
"I always like to ask. Some crutch users don't like to be separated from their sticks. By the way, let me know when you'd like lunch. We'll be in the air about three hours."
"I thought this jet was supposed to be fast, Amy. I could almost drive to Seattle in three hours," I said with a smile.
"That's because we're not going to Seattle today, we're going to Masset, BC. It's an airstrip located at the northern end of an island off the coast of British Columbia. Dr. Abrevia's clinic is not far from there. We'll be doing the great shopping expedition in a few days, in Victoria and Seattle. If I'm lucky, I'll get to go with." She stood Sarah's crutches up to take them away. They were about the same height as she was.
When Amy reached the front of the cabin, she spoke briefly with the young man from Million Air and then pushed the button to bring up the stairway and door. She locked the door and came to sit across from Sarah. The cabin lights flickered once, and Sarah could hear the engines begin to spool up.
Marla's voice came over the intercom just then.
"Amy and Sarah, we're preparing to taxi, and we'll take off as soon as we reach the runway, so go ahead and buckle in, please. Amy, come to the cockpit, please."
Amy flipped the armrest up on her seat and spoke into the handset she found in the pocket, "Amy here, Captain. Door is locked and armed, Sarah is strapped in and ready." She listened for a moment, her eyes darting to Sarah, then said, "Roger that, Cap."
"What was that all about, Amy?" Sarah asked.
"A general comment on your breathtaking beauty, although she'd probably deny it. She's pretty shy for a pilot," Amy grinned.
"Oh," said Sarah, a flush rising to her pale cheeks. Changing the subject, Sarah said, "Are you leaving?"
"I just have to be on the flight deck until we get out of local traffic, since I'm the co-pilot."
Sarah's hand flew to her mouth, and it became obvious quickly the she was embarrassed.
"Oh my God, Amy. I'm so sorry!" she stammered. Her eyes suddenly looked close to overflowing.
"What's wrong Sarah?" Amy said, moving to Sarah's seat, concern on her face.
"I'm so embarrassed. I thought you were a flight attendant, since you mentioned lunch. Please forgive me for making such a stupid assumption," she begged.
Amy reached out and hugged Sarah, their faces at the same level with Sarah seated and the diminutive Amy standing. Amy spoke softly into Sarah's ear, "You're forgiven, Sarah. It's an easy mistake to make, and it doesn't bother me. If I got bothered by all the times I've gotten mistaken for my date's little sister, or the like, I'd be in therapy five days a week. Please don't be so hard on yourself, ok?" She closed by kissing Sarah's earlobe gently.
The combination of Amy's breath, her closeness and the lingering kiss brought Sarah's nipples to immediate attention. This fact was noticed by Amy, whose gaze had dropped to the treasures inside Sarah's silk camisole.
Their eyes met, and then Amy moved to the cabin doorway. "Don't go away," she said, her dark eyes soft and bright and full of promise.
"I'll be right here," Sarah sighed to the closed door.
The powerful aircraft stormed down the runway and climbed rapidly to 39,000 feet AGL. As she watched the clouds drop away below them from her vantage point in the right seat, Amy spoke to Marla.
"So what do you think about our passenger, M?"
"I can see why Owen seems over the moon about her, that's for sure, Ames. She seems incredibly nice and she's so hot!"
"She got really upset when she thought I was her flight attendant and apologized for it. I didn't know there were people left in the world with that kind of compassion. Other than you and I of course," she said with a snicker. "I got a peek down her cami just before I came up, and you won't believe her little tits! They're totally puffies, and her nips are gigantic!"
"Are you hinting here, Amy?" Marla said with a smile.
"Well, technically, you don't need me here right now, do you? And there is our guest's well-being to be considered, too," Amy said, a look of total innocence on her pretty face.
"All right, already!" Marla said with a big grin. "Go back and "Pamper" our guest. Just don't get any pampering on the seats, or there'll be hell to pay from the crew chief."
"Eww. You're gross, M." Amy popped out of her seat, but took Marla's right hand off the yoke and held it to her face. She kissed it gently, and then ran her tongue over the scar on the stump of Marla's index finger. Marla closed her eyes and sighed, and then keyed her mike and received permission from Seattle Center to vary from her flight plan in a manner that added an hour to their arrival time.
The wet sound of Amy's kiss still echoing in her ear, Sarah watched the diminutive co-pilot as she stepped through the door into the cockpit. She found the little woman very attractive indeed, and was intensely aroused from their brief contact. She pulled her camisole away from her chest and looked down at her painfully erect nipples as the plane rumbled down the runway. The runway was rough, and as she bounced in her seat, she could almost hear her pussy lips squishing against each other. She drummed her fingers against her thong-covered clit with one hand while the other pinched her right nipple gently through the silk. As they passed through the cloud cover, she passed into a gentle orgasm, her stump lifting off the seat and quivering spasmodically as she came. The sun shining on her through the window was pleasantly warm, so she removed her jacket, placed it on the seat across from her and reclined, mildly surprised when a footrest appeared. The gentle motion of the plane as it climbed soon soothed her to sleep.
Amy passed Sarah's slumbering form as she passed through the cabin, a smile appearing on her face as she observed her passenger. Sarah's face was composed and peaceful, turned slightly toward the sun streaming in the portside window. Amy leaned over Sarah and slid the window shade down, pausing afterward to observe the olive-sized nubs pushing insistently at the silk covering them. She drew a finger across the tip of each nipple as she straightened, causing a soft sound to escape Sarah's throat.
At the rear of the cabin, Amy slid the cabin thermostat up a couple of degrees, unbuttoned her shirt, slid the straps of her bra out of her sleeves and pulled it off. Before rebuttoning her shirt, she tugged lightly on each of the gold rings piercing her nipples. Pierced at the base of each pink nubbin, the rings held her nipples permanently erect, and she shivered as the stiffly starched cotton teased at them as she fastened the shirt, leaving several more buttons undone than before. Amy filled a crystal goblet with ice and purified water, setting it on a silver tray near the rearmost seat. She unfastened her pants and slid them down to her ankles, then sat on the small jump seat near the galley. Her hands grasped the top of her right prosthesis and she drew her stump out of the limb. She repeated the operation on the other leg, and then pulled off both stump socks. One by one, she drew her knees closer to her chest and massaged a dollop of Aveda moisturizer into her thin eight inch stumps. She pulled the lower legs of her pants up over her knees and then slid off the seat onto her bare knees and fastened her pants. She clambered back onto the jump seat and rolled her pant legs up above her knees so they didn't get dirty.
Sliding to her knees, she took the tray and started back to the front of the cabin, her hips swaying nicely as she rocked from knee to knee on the lush mauve carpeting. When she arrived at Sarah's seat, she stood still, one knee slightly ahead of the other. Her stumps flexed and extended unconsciously to maintain her balance as she looked at her new friend. Balancing the tray easily in her left hand, she reached out and caressed Sarah's stump gently, sliding her right hand up into the short pant leg a few inches.
Without opening her eyes, Sarah took Amy's wrist and encouraged her to slide her hand further up the loose pant leg. Amy took the hint, and her hand moved slowly up inside the linen until she found Sarah's mound. Sarah looked at Amy through slitted eyes and reached out for the tray. Amy placed it into her hands and Sarah put it on the table beside her chair, then placed her hands passively back on the armrests.
Amy used her fingers to explore Sarah's mons, and was astonished at what they'd found. Amy estimated that, from the top of her little slit to her perineum, Sarah's pussy was only a couple of inches long. Her fingers dipped into the hot opening she found, and they came back wet.
Sarah moaned softly and pulled the pin and clasp from Amy's hair, watching as the black satin shimmered down around her face and shoulders. Sarah shifted in her seat and unfastened her pants. Amy drew them down over her stump and off her foot.