Growing Pleasures

They’re watching us. Always.

The voyeurs varied in number, but they were all the same, taking pleasure in the discomfort. Tonight, it was an elderly gentleman and a younger male, who I can only assume to be his lover. They settled on the ornate settee, their visages flaccid, stoic. The attendant had brought them tea to sip while viewing the proceedings but neither had touched it.

“Slow down,” my wife said, moaning softly.

I complied and resumed the motion in a more gentle fashion. I made contact with the femur and I looked up to meet her gaze.

“Ready?” I asked and she simply nodded.

I pressed the saw harder against the bone and, with clinical precision, sliced her right leg off. It fell to the floor with a loud thud and I heard a muted applause from the other side of the glass. I looked at my wife. As usual, her eyes were shut and she had bit her lip, the look of ecstasy on her face was palpable.

The overhead speaker cracked. “That was splendid, Doctor.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, and walked to other side of the platform on which my wife was seated, her stump of a right leg spewing blood.

The audience now had an unobstructed view of my wife’s leg regenerating before their eyes. When it was complete, I handed her a towel and she gingerly wiped off where her blood had pooled. She then arose, picked up her severed leg and deposited it into the panel on the far wall, behind which the attendant would sanitize it and wrap it for transport.

The older man got up to leave and the younger one followed suit. Before disappearing behind the door, he looked at me mockingly and licked his lips.


Written for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge"  for 03/07/2021 challenge.
Prompt: Write a story that includes the line "They're watching us"
Word Count: 297