We Can Rebuild Him. We Have The Sorority - TG

    When I went and got myself blown up by an IED in the line of duty, the army scraped up what was left of me and shipped me home to my girlfriend, fully expecting me to expire on the way home. They were already measuring me up for a coffin and, let me tell you, it wouldn’t need to be a long one.

Yet somehow I held on. And if I wasn’t about to give up, neither was my girlfriend. She got me the best medical care she could afford, setting up charity drives to raise further money. Yet the organ transplants required to replace my damaged body were too much. The damage was just too extensive. My arms and legs were salsa, I’d suffered deep tissue burns across 80% of my body. Liver, kidneys, everything was failing.

As I lay there dying, she gathered all her friends together and made one last, incredible push for donations - not money this time, but organs. Skin, fat, bone and marrow, a kidney here, a chunk of lung there. Not much each but enough to form a mostly complete human. I was a Frankenstein’s monster, a mashed up jigsaw of a hundred different people, but alive. It was just a pity that all her friends were girls.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked my sorority for so much,” she’d said nervously when the bandages were first peeled away from my breasts.

Rehab was lengthy. Learning to walk again - new legs, who dis? More surgery, cosmetic this time to make the face look less of a patchwork, though they made it far too pretty if you ask me. My squadmates are already making fun of it. The visit whenever they’re on leave, as if I don’t see straight through their intentions. I’ve already overheard one of them making a crass remark about the appeal of fucking an entire sorority at once.

I knew I was healed when the army rang, asking when I’d be ready to be redeployed. I told them I’d think about it.

My manhood was gone, reduced to atoms - our sex life changed, though certainly hasn’t stopped.

“Does it bother you?” I asked as we lay in bed entwined in each other's arms. “When you kiss me, it’s like you’re kissing your friends.”

“It’s wonderful,” she said, kissing me passionately. “Every time I look at you, I see the precious gift they gave us.” She hesitated a second. “Kinda wish my sister didn’t donate though.”

“Why? Which part is she?”

“You don’t want to know.”