I sat in the plush red chair and looked at the doctor across from me, my heart pounding in my chest. We were in a small, slightly dingy office with a few framed pictures on the wall of landscapes, long forgotten vistas of seas and mountain ranges, the likes of which haven't existed since the terraforming wave of the 90s. He leaned forward and straightened his plaque, which read "Doctor Aaron Menson" in block letters. I shifted, and looked down at my feet, suddenly self conscious about my appearance, the way I presented.
"Are you comfortable, Miss Vylette?" He asked, in a dry, affluent voice
I looked at him for a moment, I was comfortable in a way, this chair would have cost me two months rent, easily, and the way I sunk into it felt vaguely like sitting in the lap of someone much bigger than me. I wasn't comfortable with being here though, in this room, working out shady deals with someone I found on the Net just for a chance at a chance to be able to live as my true self. It made me feel gross, like I was betraying myself, giving up my morals for my comfort. In a way, I was uncomfortable now so I could be comfortable later.
I smiled at him, keeping my lips closed to hide my jagged teeth I couldn't afford to have fixed.
"Oh, I'm quite comfortable Doctor Menson, thank you very much!"
"My voice cracked halfway through, and I cringed as I dipped back into lower tones for a split second, but I tightened my smile and tilted my head in a way that I prayed conveyed "woman".
Dr. Menson gave a tight smile back to me, and pulled up his papers, fanning them out and pushing them towards me. My eyes widened, there must have been at least 20 sheets of paper there, far more than I've ever had. Paper was usually only used for big, important, once in a lifetime things, like death certificates, or marriage certificates. It symbolized something that meant something. To see this much in one place... I was starting to feel even more out of place than I did normally.
"These are the documents we need you to sign before we can get you checked in. They cover room and board, waiving of rights for human testing limitations, the terms of your stay, and your payment."
I perked up at that, I hadn't considered there may be payment involved. The doctor saw my excitement and shook his head.
"No, not like that, the 'payment' you receive will be equal to the total cost of your facial reconstruction, sex reassignment, body tuneups, and recovery. You'll walk out of here without a debt chip more than you walked in with."
"But... I won't have to pay anything, right? I can't-"br>
"Yes, this whole thing is at no cost to you, just like the message said. Now if you could sign, please..."
He pushed the papers towards me again, more insistently. I looked down at them, and picked up the pen. It had been years since I held one. I didn't quite know how to hold it, but I did by best, and traced my name "V Y L E T T E C A R M E N B O T K I E R" onto the first page. All beautiful names I had found from the past and plucked out of time to use as my own. I could read and type well enough, very well in fact, I spent most of my time on the Net, but only very fancy schools taught how to write. If you were good enough at art, you may learn to write as part of your art practice, but I wasn't ever any good at art, even when I borrowed my more well off friend's tablet and stylus instead of using my ball and pointer like most people.
I looked down at my handiwork. It was shaky and blocky, and took up more than the allotted space. I blushed a bit, and moved on to the next one. The doctor sighed and tapped his fingers on the table as I wrote, and I flushed harder, moving faster, my letters sprawling out on the page sloppily.
As I finished, I looked up at him and gave him a quick smile, closed lipped, and pushed the papers back. He stood, and gathered them up quickly, and motioned for me to get up.
"Alright Miss Vylette, the transport pod is out front, do not speak to the security guards, do not approach the pod from any direction but the back, and keep your head down until you reach your destination. I will arrive tomorrow to begin the work. You are not to discuss the nature of our agreement or any details of the testing moving forward at any time, under pain of death, do you understand?"
I blinked and I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again, then opened it once more. My head was spinning, now? I was leaving now? I thought I'd have time to prep, time to get ready, time to process all this. I swallowed and stood up. If it was today, it was today. I nodded silently, and walked out of the room, my knuckles white with anticipation and fear as I held my purse to my chest.
~~~
The pod was just benches along the inside of a truck, no decor or seatbelts. I was surrounded by 4 guards, one on either side, two across from me. They had tinted half dome helmets on so I couldn't see their faces or where they were looking, but their hands gripped their rifles in a way that made it clear to me that if I did anything but sit, I wouldn't survive the trip. I stared at my shoes and tried to ignore them. I had worn my nice shoes; shiny black plastic slip-ons. They were the ones with the fewest scuffs in my wardrobe, and I took extra good care of them. They were a bit small, but I didn't mind. I only wore them for special occasions, like meeting the doctor who could change my life.
The pod coasted smoothly, I couldn't tell where we were by the feel of the road like I could with the public transit. I usually hid at the back of the bus and curled up in my coat, closing my eyes and holding my stun baton so it was just visible to those around me, and pretended to sleep until I felt the pattern of jagged bumps and rough pavement that signified I was close to home. If I didn't pretend to be sleeping, I usually got harassed by those around me, sometimes they would sling slurs at me like daggers, sometimes they would hit on me in a way that made it obvious they only wanted me for my girldick, and sometimes they would try and ask me for money, like I had any to spare.
I felt the rock of the pod stopping, and tensed up. I peeked up from my shoes, the guards hadn't moved. The back door hissed, and dropped open, revealing a clean white warehouse, brightly lit and mostly empty except for a few people in white cleansuits who glanced over at the sound of the door opening. One walked over and poked their head in.
"This is subject H3-02? Ok, bring it in for decon, I'll take it from here."
I cringed at the "it" statement, but didn't say anything. It was most likely a science thing, not a trans thing, right? These were the people who were helping me trans my gender, it was most likely just 'don't get attached to the subjects' or something. Then I wondered, why would it be bad for them to get attached? Was I in danger? I tried to calm down as the person led me to a clear chamber lined with nozzles at the far end of the warehouse.
"Ok, strip, to the skin, everything off.""
I looked around at the people, and opened my mouth to protest, but the person cut me off
"Do it quick, we don't care about your modesty here, I have stuff to do, get this over with."
Their finality and coldness made me shiver and feel alone in the big room, but I complied, taking off my skirt, shoes, bodysuit, and top. They sighed and made a 'hurry up' movement with their hand, and I shakily took off my undergarments and tucked them under my skirt. They cleared their throat and pointed at my crotch, and I flushed red. I pulled the medical tape off, and held back tears as I covered myself with my arms and stepped into the chamber.
"Ok, legs apart, arms up, do it fast."
I turned away from them, facing the wall and complied, my eyes squeezed shut and my heart pounding. A freezing blast of chemical-smelling liquid hit me from all sides at once, and I shrieked, locking up and gasping for air. The liquid stopped, and I was then blasted by air the same way, stale smelling cold air, whipping my hair around and making ripples in my skin.
I stood in the chamber, panting for air, and the door slid open. I stepped out, covering myself, and reached for my clothes.
"No, don't touch those, you'll have to decon again. Here, take this."
They handed me a smock, stiff and smelling like fake flowers. I put it on, and stared at my shoes on the floor, wondering if I'd see them again. I tried not to worry too much, I was getting a new me, what did shoes matter? I looked up to see the cleansuit person standing next to a door, waving me through. I ran-jogged over, and stepped through.
The warehouse ended, and we were in a long white hallway, with doors every few feet. We walked quickly , turning down hallways, passing frosted windows on one side for a while, going through what looked like a cafeteria once, until we finally got to a hall that was lined with doors that each had scanners next to them. They led me over to one, slid off the glove of their cleansuit, and scanned the door open.
"Alright, get in. Testing and augmentation starts early, so go to sleep fast."
I stepped in, and the door instantly slid closed behind me. The room was only lit up by a little glass window in the door, and it was empty except for a bed built into the floor that took up most of the left side of the room, and a sink, almost flush with the wall, directly across from the door above a small hole, presumably the toilet. I stepped over to the sink and turned it on, and bent over to sip, but it shut off before I could get my head down. I sighed, of course they were using water limiters... I positioned my head under the sink and then turned it on, and got a mouthful or so before it shut off.
I peeked out the window, but couldn't see anyone anymore. "Testing and augmentation..." It was what I signed up for, but... It felt so real now, I couldn't take it back. What would they do to me? I had heard stories of people signing up for testing and ending up twisted piles of metal or flesh, or worse, part of a computer server or something... They couldn't do anything like that to me though, I was assured I was going to be given the body I wanted by the end of all this, so no matter what they do to me now, I'll at least end up beautiful, right?
I lay down on the bed and curl up, feeling my body press against my legs, feeling the wrongness of it and I close my eyes, trying to dream of having a beautiful new body, soon, very soon.
~~~
I woke to the sound of the door sliding open, and Dr. Menson standing over me with a clipboard. I sat up and fixed my smock looking up at him expectantly. He stared back at me for a moment, then rolled his eyes.
"Well? Get up, we have to get to the lab, come on, we have a schedule to attend to, Miss Botkier."
I scrambled up and he marched me along the hallways until we arrived at a big metal door with the words "LAB: DO NOT ENTER" in big red letters on the front. It unlatched and spiraled open. On the other side was a mess, to put it succinctly. It was just piles of artificial limbs, wires, hoses, and tools. In the center, was an upright medical table partially surrounded by what looked like half of a tank. I walked in and looked at all the parts, imagining myself getting covered with them, being swallowed up by the tangle of wires and becoming one with the mess. Maybe I would, maybe that was the augment. I was no stranger to mess, my Life Container was full of stuff that I thought I needed. Stuff I found, mostly, or stuff that I didn't want to throw away, like old brainjacks with pictures I didn't want to lose but didn't know how to extract, or old decks that I found in the trash that ran too slow to use, but I thought I could wire them up together to be a super computer one day. As if I knew how to do that. The only part of my LC that wasn't full of junk was my hammock, which was full of plush friends, some saved from the garbage, some made from old clothes of mine or my friends.
I found myself in the half tank, my smock off, and I jumped a bit. I must have spaced out again... Dr Menson was sitting at a table next to me, a silver and pink arm on the table next to him. it was a full arm, with a probe-style joint at the shoulder and everything, not one of the cheaper, flesh bite ones. I shift in my 'seat' and the doctor glances at me."
"Hm, well, this is the first step, we'll be testing a new form of auto gyroscopic arm dynamics, and you'll be the first recipient. If all goes well, we'll be mass producing these and giving them to- well, you don't need to know that part, I suppose. Lay back, I need to administer the blood clotter and numbing agent."
I lay back and look at the arm. It's a right arm. An arm that had never been used before by anyone. I think for a moment and speak up.
"Um, doctor?... Why is it pink?"
He glanced at me and frowned.
"You don't like it? I make all the prototypes pink, it makes them pop, makes it obvious to the heads what's finished and what's still in testing, and it makes it easy to tell what part is being tested on, say, a gearhead. Anyway, I thought you'd like it being pink, with your whole woman thing."
I nod, politely. 'My whole woman thing'. Well, as long as he acknowledged it, I guess. He did call me 'Miss' too, so that was a good sign, right? I did prefer blue to pink, a baby blue, or maybe a turquoise, but... pink was good too. I didn't mind being pink. I wondered if I'd get to keep the arm...
"Well, Miss Botkier, you're about to become just a little bit less you, sit still, we don't want this cutting any more than it needs to."
He pulled out a long thin vibroknife, and quickly slid it into my shoulder, and worked it around the bone, twisting it and moving it under my armpit and over the top. After a moment, he turned off the knife, and smiled his thin smile at me.
"Watch this..."
With a twist, he pulled my arm out of the socket. I felt a chill run through me, and I bit my lip, trying not to cry. It didn't hurt, but... it was my arm, a part of me, gone forever. I stayed still and gave a small smile as he laughed, and sprayed cleaner on the end of the new, pink arm.
"Now, this one has about two weeks of painkillers and healants in it, preloaded, so it won't hurt, and it should be flesh melded by the time they wear off, but if not, that's why we're testing it. Ok, hold still again while I..."
He slid the arm into my socket, and I felt the weird protrusion in my shoulder twist and twitch. I frown and look up.
"It's... doing something funny, it's wiggling around in there, wh-"
At that, a spiking pain like touching a sore tooth with a piece of ice shot through my body and I screamed, kicking my legs against the floor of the half tube with all my might. The joint snapped into place, and sharp ridges clamped down on the meat of my shoulder, and the arm slid up into place. My shoulder still screamed at me with pain, and I gasped for air and looked at the doctor, scared.
"Ah, yes, it was trying to find the nerves. It's connected to your nervous system, of course. Hm, it looks like we'll need much, much more painkiller applied in the severing phase... Ok, let's run some mobility tests, get out of the tank, Miss Botkier."
I half fell half stumbled out of the tank and held my shoulder with my left hand, it was hot, and I could still feel the nerves throbbing, even as the painkiller kicked in. I looked up at the doctor, but he was already turned away and focused on a checklist projected from the wall. I flexed my new fingers, feeling them click against each other, feeling thin and uncoordinated. I slowly raised my hand up in front of my face and wiggled them back and forth.
"So, are you excited to start the testing? We can't do strength or pressure tests yet, but we can do systems checks, do you feel the interface?"
I could, a bit. It felt... a bit like my brainjack, but without the mental images imprinting. I could feel... nodes? In my arm, like the parts of a key sticking out at the end. I twisted my arm around, but there wasn't anything visible. I nodded at the Dr. Menson and he stepped back, and pressed a button on his checklist, and I felt something slide away inside my arm. I tried to flex the nodes, and the first one spun around, sliding away and clicking into a new slot. My new arm and wrist snapped into a stiff position, and a long, buzzing vibroknife folded out from the side. I gasped, and held my arm away from my body.
"Ah! Yes, the first weapon is deployed very smoothly, very good. There are two more, try those out next. Ah, also, we will be locking down the weapons functions and full strength of any and all mods you get as soon as you leave this room, so don't get too excited, dear."
I swallowed, and slid out the next node. The knife folded in, and my hand split open, a tube sliding out of it, and a small flame igniting.
"A flamethrower?! Why would anyone need-"
"Now Miss Botkier, do not ask questions, we still have one more item to test, understand?"
My mouth became dry, and I activated the last node. Was I helping them develop weapons? Am I helping them kill people? I knew there was some danger of being hurt or twisted, but to think I'd be helping to hurt people... My stomach turned, and kept turning as the last weapon deployed, a gas launcher.
~~~
I lay on my mattress, holding my new arm to my chest. I had done my best to eat the "celebration" lunch in the cafeteria, but either the food was bland and sticky, or I was still feeling sick about the weapons contained in my arm. I'd been on the receiving end of gas attacks before, usually from the police using tear gas to clear areas of "unwanted individuals", and I was very often unwanted. I tried to think of ways my arm could be used to help rather than hurt, but I couldn't put anything to mind.
I rolled the other way, and try and justify my involvement. It wasn't just me, right? The doctor was the one making the weapons, and I didn't even know about them. It's not like they'd let me go now, with a fancy new arm and their testing unfinished. How long would it take before they let me go? I... hadn't read the documents, so I wasn't sure how much testing they needed to do, but it couldn't be too much more, even gearheads could only mod a few parts at a time before their bodies started suffering, their brains lagging behind and not being able to keep up with the new parts.
I would just be here a few more weeks at most, maybe they get me to test a leg too, maybe a new brainjack, that would be nice, and then... I'd be a woman, and back on the streets. Well, I already was a woman, but- well, anyway, just a few more weeks.
~~~
Three months later, I was sitting in front of my door, waiting on Dr. Menson to come pick me up for a new upgrade. At this point, I was more machine than girl. All four of my limbs had been replaced, and in addition to matching weapons in my left arm now, I also had a "door buster" kneecap launcher, a "jet kick" that literally powered my kicks through a small jet on my heels, and deployable spiked cleats at the bottoms of my feet.
My brain was struggling to keep up, and oftentimes I'd be walking to the tests and my brain would cross wires and my arms would snap into swinging instead. One time, my arm actually smacked one of my escort guards, and I was taken down, screaming apologies and flailing uncontrollably.
As I tried to focus on keeping my limbs straight, the door slid open, and the doctor looked down at me as he always did.
"Well, you'll be happy to know that this next upgrade will technically be the first one that goes towards your new, female body, does that make you happy?"
"Oh, it does! But... I thought the legs were the first step? They're all curvy and everything, and-"
"No, those legs are just legs, this upgrade will fix something that's a lot more... difficult to change."
I stood and followed him slowly.
"Is it... the big surgery?..."
"What? No, no that's not- Mm. No. We need to keep putting more parts on you, or rather, in you, and your current body isn't doing well at maintaining balance of your implants. What we need to do is to replace your brainjack with a deep-brain programing probe, and we'll replace your spine with- Well, it just sorts all the signals coming through, so you don't accidentally punch someone again. And while we're at it, because we'll be replacing your whole spine, we thought we may as well do the first step in your gender transformation and replace your ribcage with a smaller one, one with a smaller sternum, narrower ribs, all of it."
I stoped in my tracks and held my hands to my chest, feeling my ribs. That was my core, kinda, like, a major part of me. I reached around to the back of my head and felt my brainjack and frowned.
"What's a programing probe? Is it like, gonna change my brain?"
"Oh, no, no it won't. It'll just allow us to write programs over top of the parts of your brain that control movement and motor skills, so you'll be able to function with all the new parts. You'll still be in full control of your brain and thoughts, don't worry!"
I felt uneasy, but I lowered my head and started following after him again. After a few turns, I spoke up again.
"So, will I be awake for this? It sounds... Painful. You still haven't figured out how to make the limbs stop hurting when they connect, and if it's my whole spine..."
"Actually, this procedure will take days, days and days, you'll be under the whole time. And we can't have you moving while you're healing up, the spine and brain are much more sensitive than the limbs, so we'll be keeping you under for a few weeks while you get better."
A feeling of dread fills me... weeks of being under... I already was cringing thinking of the dreams, the feeling of muffled suffocation, the digestive issues when I woke up. I had heard horror stories, and my mother had been under for about 4 weeks when I was younger for an injury she got from a trail derailment. We had insurance at the time, but they dropped her after that. I remember it was almost a month before she could eat normally without getting sick.
I stumbled a bit as my brain hung on my limbs, and I looked down at myself. It'd be ok, right? I'd finally be rid of this wide torso, and my boobs would be so much closer now, and look just so much better, it'd be worth it, and if I didn't get the brain implant, I would be dealing with staggering while I walk and my legs kicking while I struggled to pick up a fork for the rest of my life.
I nodded, having rationalized the decision to go through with it, trying not to think about how I really didn't have a choice at all. The door to the lab slid open in front of me, and I noticed that the lab was slightly cleaner than it had been during my past visits, and that the pod had been slid back into a table. There were also several new people around, who looked up at me when I entered. I walked in slowly, feeling their eyes on my body as I climbed onto the table. One reached out and touched my arm softly. I thought he was helping me up, but as I tried to put weight on him to climb up, he looked up at me, and stepped back.
I sat on the table, my stomach flipping as they bustled around me, moving things, preparing blades, talking on their low, serious tones. I lay down and looked at the ceiling. Would I remember the surgery? Would I be aware while I was under? My mother had told me she remembered a lot of her time asleep, and that she was constantly fighting to wake up. I flexed my robotic hands, and vaguely think about trying to escape, to run off and disappear into the night, limbs twitching and brain heating up. I felt a sting, and looked down to see Dr Menson with a needle on a tube standing over my torso, sliding it into my chest slowly.
So much for escape, I suppose.
I feel myself falling, trailing off the table, into an infinite void. I try to breathe, but my chest felt heavy, so, so heavy. The world exploded into darkness.
I'm in a cage, a rusty cage with bars that were too long.
I'm in a bathtub full of pasta, my limbs back to their old selves.
I'm standing at the front door of Dr Menson's office.
I'm holding a pet carrier, and my brain is inside.
I'm alone in my room, and all the shapes are growing, turning inside out, and filling my mind.
I'm in my cell, my limbs missing.
I'm in a toilet, being flushed.
I'm on the table, and I can feel my chest being cut open, my bones snapping, my lungs being stapled, I can't scream, I can't move, I can't-
I'm on the top of a building, looking down at the world, and I jump.
I'm in a tank full of sticky liquid.
I'm in my mother's arms.
I'm in my father's lap, but it's scary now.
I'm on the counter, playing with knives.
I'm at a bar, getting drunk and asking men if I was pretty enough to fuck.
I'm on the floor of my friend's Life Container, crying because I wasn't pretty enough to fuck.
I'm in a blender, my body falling apart.
I'm in the subway, everyone's bodies crushing against me, making it hard to breathe.
I'm under the ocean, swimming with my beautiful mermaid tail.
I'm in an office, sucking a dick for a job.
I'm on the streets, begging for money.
I'm a princess, eating cake.
I'm in a coffin, being lowered into the ground.
I'm in my cell, staring at the ceiling, my chest screaming in pain, my head throbbing.
I'm in my cell.
I'm in pain.
I'm awake.
I coughed and tried to sit up, and my body refused to cooperate. I whimpered, and tried to lift my head to look down at myself, but the top of my spine throbed, and a headache that seemed to go through my whole head made itself known. I relaxed my body, and that seemed to help a bit with the headache at least, but the rest of my body was still pulsing and shifting. I opened my mouth to call out, but thought better of it. No one was watching me, no one would hear me.
Why was I awake? I clearly wasn't healed, did they get the dosage wrong? Would I be forced to lie here until I was healed? A beeping noise pinged at the base of my neck, and I felt a pull, and something slightly cold rushed into the inside of my skull. I tensed up, and then slipped back into a darkness.
~~~
I opened my eyes again a while later, still in the same spot, still in pain, and coughed. this time, the beep sounded sooner, and the cold rush of... something flooded my brain, and I blanked.
~~~
I kept my eyes closed this time, feeling my body, the pain and the familiar twitch of my limbs. I tried to focus on the back of my neck, tried to feel what was there, but the beeping sounded off again, and I was gone.
~~~
I didn't wake up, or at least, I didn't remember waking up, for a while after that. My mind felt groggy and thick, like pudding being pumped through my brain instead of blood, and I was floating in and out of my body. I heard the beeping now and then, but it was far off and distant, and eventually it stopped sounding at all.
~~~
My back was stiff, but my headache was gone, so I slowly opened my eyes. I was laying on the table-pod, and I could feel a cool liquid being pumped into my body from the back of my neck. I took a deep breath, and tried to move. My arm came up smoothly, and there was minimal pain, I sighed in relief, I was awake and back in control. I looked down at my bare chest, taking care not to dislodge the hose in my neck, and admired my new upper torso. There was a joint running down my sternum and along the base of my ribs, but my body seemed much slimmer and closer together.
My breasts looked... different, more full; not the unfinished, bottom heavy hrt boobs I had before, but more rounded. I poked one with my finger. It felt soft enough, although if I had to guess, they did do some augmentation to them while they were in there, even if they kept administering my E while I was under, there was no way they grew this much by themselves.
I was... ok with this. I had been proud of my naturals, but... these looked nice, and they were closer together and that was supposed to be good, right? I took a deep breath and sighed. My breath filled my lungs, then jetted out through the joints under my ribs. I suppose my lung capacity would be smaller now, was this a way to compensate for that? I breathed in, and kept breathing in, and the air flowed from my nose into my lungs, and out of the slit, and I never felt like I needed to exhale. That was... A strange sensation.
The lab door opened, and Dr Menson walked in, making eye contact with me.
"Ok, so, you've been under for about a month now, and you should be all healed up. Anything feel weird?"
"No, I- A month?! Wait-"
"Ok, perfect, Right now we're replacing the fluids in your cybernetic parts. This is a big part of the reason we're testing these parts, they have their own circulatory system that doesn't interact with your own. This should allow more parts and better integration than just a normal system. We've had to replace it twice already though due to contamination and heat burning particles of the fluid as it circulates, so that is a major downside."
"So... I'll have to get new fluids every two weeks? That's-"
"It won't be an issue, once we get this system implemented worldwide, you'll be able to go into any police station or maintenance shop and get new fluids. Until then, you will need to be available here at this facility so we can keep you all juiced up."
My heart sank, I was tied to this place even longer than I had thought I'd be. It could be years before they put those tanks in public places... Hopefully I could at least get a better room, or a job of some kind? Something that wasn't sitting and waiting on the program to take off. I heard a familiar beeping, and with a hiss and a pop, the hose in the back of my neck disconnected. Dr Menson smiled his thin smile, and waved me towards the door.
"Come on, let's go get something to eat, you've been living on a nutrient feed for over 30 days now, I bet you're hungry!"
"I... Shouldn't eat yet, I've been under for a long time. Anyway, I'm naked, I can't leave like this..."
Dr Menson's smile grew as he passed me his lab coat.
"Ah, you have been under, but this will be a test of another new system, we took the liberty of upgrading your stomach too! You should be able to digest anything now, with very little issue. This is actually a test to see if it's working right, come along!"
"I didn't hear anything about a stomach upgrade, I wasn't-"
"No no, you're right, we didn't mention it, in fact, we didn't even know if we'd use it, but while we had you open, we thought we might as well. Don't worry, this is still part of the original contract, you won't owe us anything, it's experimental after all."
I finish buttoning the lab coat up, and pull on the hem uncomfortably. I was a head taller than Dr Menson, so the lab coat was just barely covering my ass and... I felt very exposed in it. I looked around for any kind of cloth to wrap around me, but nothing stood out, and Dr. Menson was already in the hall, walking, so I rushed to catch up.
In the mess hall, I could feel the stares on my ass and up my body and shiver. I wasn't afraid to be looked at, but this feeling was like I was a piece of metal, just a collection of mechanical parts for them to casually appreciate. I tugged the coat down again, and sat on the cold metal bench, my butt tensing up at the sensation. I kept my eyes down, focusing on the table in front of me. A plate of tan mush with green lumps in it was put in front of me, and I ate automatically, shoveling food into my mouth on command, hardly noticing the smoothness of my arm movements. Dr Menson was across from me, writing in his clipboard, the sounds of the people around me eating echoed in my ear.
I felt like I was back in the weird void, floating, not in my body, but watching myself from a distance. I felt someone come up behind me and look me over, I heard the echo of them calling over someone else to watch my movements, and I kept staring down at my food, the world feeling grey and far away, my plate looking like it was far away, through a tunnel. I tried to come back to myself, to let myself be, but I just couldn't muster up the energy. This feeling of being an object wasn't unfamiliar, I had felt it when I did my late night streams for extra money before, but then I was in charge, I could turn off the camera at any time. Now, the feeling of being less than those watching me was inescapable.
I was the closest to my ideal body I've ever been, why couldn't I just stay in it?...
~~~
I stared at my dick, floating in a small jar next to me in my tiny room. I was supposed to be getting a room upgrade today, room 27C-1. Since my last surgery, the one to replace my jaw, I had been told I was "no longer a subject" and instead a "partner" in the program, whatever that meant. Apparently it at least meant that I get a new room, hopefully one with a real bed this time, but I wasn't allowed to leave just yet. As I had predicted, the fluid exchange pumps hadn't been rolled out, because my prototypes weren't in full production yet.
I poked the jar and watched the penis inside spin slowly. At least I'd have a decoration for my new room. Someone had shown it to me after my bottom surgery, and asked if I wanted it in a jar, jokingly, but... I had liked the idea. It usually wasn't possible, from what I understood, it was usually inverted and used to create the neovagina, but since my vagina was artificial, they didn't need to use the tissue. It was a novelty, but more importantly it was a reminder of who I was, where I came from. Just because I had a shiny new robo pussy and silicone boobs didn't mean I wasn't still a trans girl, and I needed to remember that. I was still Vylette, the same girl who cried over her lip shadow the night before her first date in over a year, the girl who sprained her ankle as a kid trying on her mom's heels, the girl who literally paid an arm and a leg for bottom surgery, twice.
I looked down at my body and admired it. The smooth, shiny, porcelain looking tummy, the pink legs that went for miles, the slightly soft layer of coating stretching over everything, acting as a skin, only broken by my joints and my holes. I ran my tongue over my new teeth, opaque pink and slightly sharp for some reason, but straight, finally straight... Like nothing in my life ever was. I stood and arched my back, feeling the mechanical rods sliding as I did, as quiet as could be. My body was a masterpiece, full of power and weapons and love. They said they were going to have to remove most of the weapons before they released me, whenever that would be, but I didn't mind. I'd be beautiful, forever.
I picked up the jar and held it without shame as I walked out of my cell to my new room, head held high, naked as the day I was born, or rather, the day I was built. The stares of the others around me were numbing, they didn't see me as Vylette, but as their latest project, so why bother acting like Vylette? I stopped in front of room 27-C1 and knocked. The door slid open, and I saw two medical workers pulling up tape in the shape of a body off the floor. One looked up at me and then back at the tape and shook his head. The two headed out, leaving the room empty.
It was a clean room, with white walls and furniture, and a bed with a tablet laying on it attached to the wall on the right side, and there was a small wardrobe built into the wall by the door. I opened it, and put my old dick inside on the top shelf area. There wasn't much inside, just a few hangers, so I closed it and scanned the rest of my new area. There was a bathroom alcove in the corner opposite the bed, with walls this time, and a small sofa along the wall in front of it. The room was... Quite barren.
I sat on the bed and picked up the tablet. It was the room controls, and after a bit of playing, I was able to set the temperature to 69 degrees and the walls to a nice light pink. It made the room feel a lot more cozy, but it still wasn't much more interesting than my cell. At least this one didn't have a lock on the door, I could go to the mess hall any time I wanted, or to the gym, but I didn't really have anything left to work out, and working out with mechanical parts just tended to wear them down... Maybe I could negotiate with Dr Menson for some kind of computer, or net-helmet or if not that, a TV at least?
The door hissed open and I looked to see Dr Menson himself standing in the doorway, his thin smile already on his face. Speak of the devil...
"I see you're in your new room already, Miss Botkier, I was going to guide you here myself, but, well, it looks like you've already found your way. I take it it's to your liking?"
I straightened up to my full height and looked at him coolly.
"Yes, quite so. Although, I did want to inquire about some form of entertainment, as I may be here for quite some time?..."
His smile grew and he chuckled.
"Oh, Miss Botkier, you'll be quite entertained, I assure you. You see, your agreement covered your transition of course, and room and board while you were being tested on, but now that you're no longer a subject, the question of your room and food, and the payment of it comes into question..."
I open my mouth indignantly, then close it, huffing at him, not wanting to give the satisfaction of asking what I could do to pay. He chuckled again, and continued.
"We here at- well, we would like to extend an offer to you, a job offer. If you can do this job, you can keep the room, and we will keep feeding you, and most importantly, keep changing your fluids every two weeks so you don't break down. Now, with your rather limited skills, our options would be to put you on a squad and have you go out with the police force to keep the peace, but then we'd have to train you, and that's an extra cost itself, or... we could put you on personal relations."
I clench my teeth and exhale sharply. He wasn't saying anything more, I was going to have to ask. I begrudgingly asked what "personal relations" were, and he chuckled again.
"Why, we just need you to make sure the spirits and mental state of our troops are high and tight! We'll send them to you, and you make sure they go away feeling good about themselves, ok?"
A therapist? Of sorts, at least. I could do that, I listened to my mom's issues enough as a kid, I could do this. I nodded grimly to Dr Menson. If I needed to babysit a bunch of pigs to stay functioning, I could deal with that.
~~~
I sat in my room, waiting on my first client. I had set the lighting to a bit lower, to make the sterile room a bit more inviting, and I was on the bed. I'd let the client use the couch, I didn't mind too much, after all my spine was artificial, so I didn't care if I had something to lean on or not. I had tried to request clothing, something professional so I looked like I belonged, but I was told I didn't need it.
They weren't wrong, I hadn't felt cold since I had gotten my new spine, my body temperature was a bit higher than most people's now, due to my mechanical parts. It was a nice perk, I suppose. I was always very skinny, so I was cold quite frequently before.
The door slid open, and a young man stepped in, blonde hair, green eyes, and a smile that made me smile back at once. He slid the door closed, and I noticed he had an arm very similar to mine, his left one, but his was a dark grey instead of a bright pink. He stood there, a n anticipatory look on his face as he looked me up and down and I laughed nervously. I raised my arm up to show him
"Look, we're twins, see?"
His lips split in a grin, and he shook his head
"Not quite, mine has all the weapons active, yours is just a pretty pink doll's arm right now."
I laughed, uncomfortably. I always noticed that with cops, they always seemed to have this 'need' to prove they were stronger or better or more dangerous than you, it was always pathetic, but alone in a room with one, the intimidation did work a bit... He moved to the middle of the room, and I started to wave him towards the couch, but he ignored me and started unbuttoning his shirt, his back to me.
"Ah, that won't be- you really can keep your shirt on, I don't-"
I trailed off as he dropped the shirt and started on his pants. He turned to face me and I could see the excited, boyish look on his face and a chill went through me. I kept my eyes above his waist, trying to ignore my growing concern for his growing 'enthusiasm'. I swallowed hard and crossed my legs and arms and stared him down. His smile faltered a bit, but didn't break, and he stepped forwards.
"I take it they didn't explain this next part, huh?"
He said, in an almost smug tone.
"I'm aware that I'm supposed to be providing you with support, and that I'm on the personal relations team, and..."
I trailed off, realizing with dread that I'd been tricked. My fluids rushed in my ears, and my limbs twitched, my brain overloading with information, even the programing probe in my brainstem unable to fully keep up.
"Hey, it's gonna be great, just lay down and look pretty, I don't even care that you're a tranny or anything, it's like, it's all good, the hole's the same, right?"
He crooned, walking towards me steadily, putting his hand on my shoulder and pushing me back onto the bed. I opened my mouth to scream, but his robotic arm clamped around my throat, much stronger than my arms, cutting off my voicebox. I could still breathe, just barely, but I was mute and silent as he pinned me, his natural muscles much stronger than my limited, nerfed cybernetic limbs. I writhed against him, and tears sprung to my eyes as the nature of my current living situation set in.
~~~
I lay on my bed as he dressed, my new vagina whirring as it autocleaned itself, my whole body sore and aching. He glanced over and grinned, his black eye and the claw marks on his chest making him look somehow more human than he did a moment ago. I felt my throat, and the kinked rubbery tube that was supposed to carry air to and from my voice box and tried to work it back into shape with my fingers, coughing as I did so. I heard him laugh at me, and the door slid open, and he was gone.
My whole body was shaking, my limbs clicking slightly as they shook, and my new jaw vibrating as I processed what had just happened. What would happen again. I felt like garbage, like a toy that had been thrown away, or like an appliance that just did what it was supposed to. My autonomy, my individuality was gone, stripped down to "fucktoy".
I sat up and put my hands between my legs, feeling the sticky and I felt sick. I hadn't told it to do that, why had it done that? Why did it make it easier for him? Was it something wrong with me? Was it something they programed into me? I went to the tiny shower, and washed as best as I could, drying myself with the air blasts. I still felt wrong, dirty, hollowed out, and worthless.
I was still crying when I opened my wardrobe and stared at my dick in the jar. I wouldn't have had this happen if that thing was still attached to me, would I? Or would it have just been different? I looked at it for a long time, bobbing slightly in the fluid, and closed the wardrobe again. I couldn't find the feelings in me, I couldn't tell if getting rid of it was worth this, this degradation and punishment, but part of me thought that anything would be worth feeling like I belonged in my body.
I lay on the couch, avoiding the bed, and stared at the pink lit ceiling, and stayed there until morning, not sleeping, not thinking, just there.
~~~
"Well, Miss Botkier, I thought you hated the idea of becoming a cop?"
"I do, I did, but anything is better than... Well, I don't want to be a toy for a bunch of cops, so if I become a cop, I can still work here, and-"
"I'm afraid that won't work. You see, not only have we already set you up in the system to be in relations, you're fully outfitted with prototype gear. We fixed many, many things wrong with what you're using after your tests; programming errors, the hydraulics, the color, even the fluid layout in the lines, we had to change the fluid port from the back to the front because it was almost impossible to change your own fluids with the ports above your tailbone like yours are. In other words, you're using sub-par gear, and we can't legally allow you into the corps in the state you're currently in."
"Then why offer it to me in the first place?..."
"We prefer to let our partners believe they have a choice in the matter, it makes things a lot smoother."
"But- But consent laws-"
"Miss Botkier, you consented to this in my office, remember? You signed for it then, you've given full consent to everything happening, you have no recourse."
My blood boiled and I choked out my next words
"You- you are a- I don't even..."
I balled up my fists and stood up, glaring at him, staring him down. He looked pensive, then tapped on his tablet a couple times. I felt my body relax, and I sat down unwillingly. Horror swept through me. I looked at him, but through a haze of emotion. I couldn't get angry, I couldn't move, I just sat and looked. He watched me for a moment, then stood up off the couch.
"Well, I didn't want to have to do this, but due to your unstable and unpredictable nature, I've had to implement the failsafe in the programing probe. Don't worry, it isn't a mind control device, your thoughts are your own, it just utilizes a sort of AI override to control your body, temporarily, while you're in the presence of other people. The same AI that helps your artificial parts work, by the way, if not, you'd be a shaky twitchy mess, it's just... turned up a bit, if that makes sense to you."
I continued to look at him, not doing anything, my thoughts racing. I felt my mouth open and words I didn't say come out, in a lighter, flirty voice.
"I understand, Dr. Menson, sir, would you like me to do anything for you while you're here?"
He hummed, then shook his head. "No, that's alright. You'll get plenty of action soon enough, you'll go back to yourself when I leave. Please do try to stay calm, I'll turn the AI down once it's safe for you to leave to your old life, whenever that is."
He stepped out, the door snapping shut behind him. I collapsed onto the bed, my heart racing, chills shooting through me. There was no way out, even if I escaped, I would snap into doll mode every time I saw someone, and- My body shook, and I thrashed on the bed, fighting against the situation, refusing to believe it, refusing to accept my life.
~~~
Six months. I had been used for six months. I saw Dr. Menson every two weeks, and he had stopped even talking to me, just flushing my fluids out, and sending me back to my room. The pigs that came by usually didn't say much either, other than the ones that liked to call me slurs or horrible names during the act, and when my body did respond, it was the pathetic, simpering AI that did the talking, not me. I hadn't had a real conversation in half a year. I was so lonely, my chest ached, and not because of my new parts.
There was one potential glimmer of hope though. One sliver of silver that kept me from killing myself (well, that and the override protocol that kicked in every time I tried). When I was being assaulted, the AI controlling my body was at the front of my brainjack. I couldn't change much about it, just add a line or two of code before it refreshed and erased what I wrote, but it was enough. Enough to clench my teeth just a bit too hard on sensitive parts, or twist the wrong way on penetration, or one time even headbutt a cop in her crotch hard enough to bruise her badly. Because the code was refreshed and covered up, there was no evidence of me having ever done anything on my end, so the programmers assumed it was a slight error in the AI, and left it at that.
I had more in mind than giving a cop the day off with a pack of frozen proteins on her pelvis though, I had figured out the code, the language that the AI used was a simple one, and I had done my fair share of messing around with code in the past, beyond the mandatory classes in elementary school. I created an executable in the front page of my brainjack, and began filling it with a script. I worked on it hard, figuring out what the AI had control over, what it could manipulate and what it couldn't, and after all this time, after months of carefully checking the code over and over, running little tests on the AI, and pushing my luck, it was ready. I only needed a client to come in, and I could run it within the AI's code. If it worked, I'd be ready to put my escape into action. If not... I'd be brain dead or worse. I had nothing to lose.
I sat demurely on the couch, a light smile on my face, it shouldn't be long, clients usually came in every hour or two this time of the evening. Before long, my door slid open and my potential freedom walked in. A tall man with both arms replaced, bald and angry looking. He set his backpack by the door and unzipped his pants. I felt the AI take over as it noticed him, locking me up stripping away my autonomy. My body moved by itself as I prepped the program, I ignored the AI getting on my knees in front of him and pulled up the AI's code, the commands flashing by me as I mentally prepped. With a single well practiced line popped into the command line, the executable fired, and I felt the AI flare with activity, before returning all of the controls over to me, deleting itself from the programing node. I took action quickly, biting down as hard as I could. My sharp pink teeth sliced through the piece of meat in my mouth and I heard a roar of pain from above me. I stood, and focused, swinging my arm and deploying my vibroknife, slicing his head in half just below his eyes.
I spat out the sour, rubbery member and stepped over the body to his bag by the door, dumping it out. No weapons, just a flashlight, some medical supplies, and his lunch. I took the lunch, a sandwich with a grey paste in it, and left the rest. It was useless to me. I grabbed my dick from the closet and put it in the bag too, then strapped it to my back. It was go time.
I burst out of the door and dashed down the hall, staggering and twitching as I tried to manually move the complicated limbs for the first time in months, hoping beyond all hope that no one would be walking the halls. As I turned a corner, my heart dropped. A cop was leaning against the wall beside the men's room. I couldn't wait for him to say anything or I'd have to deal with another cop from the bathroom. I lunged forwards, and he saw me, naked, with blood on my chin and chest, shaking as I moved, and I saw fear in his eyes. I swung at him hard, my fist hit his nose, and kept going. He slammed into the wall, and my fist kept going still. I felt his skull crush and crack under my blow until my knuckles were pressed against the wall of the hallway.
I ripped my hand out the smashed hole of a face, and continued sprinting down the hallway towards the labs. I encountered one person on the way there, a scientist who I bisected as I went past, his query of why I was out my room left hanging unfinished in the air. I wrenched open the lab doors, my enhanced strength designed for breaking and entering without a warrant and stood, my lungs hissing with air as I breathed in a continuous stream.
Dr. Menson stood in front of the pod, his eyes wide, but his face unemotive. His eyes darted to his tablet, and I raised my flamethrower.
"Ok, asshat, you're gonna give me some fresh juice, and if you're nice, I won't turn you into a spit roast, don't speak, just hook me up."
He nodded slowly and began prepping the machine that refreshed my fluids. His loyalty ended at his life, it would seem.
As I felt the oily substance work through me, I kept my eyes locked on the doctor. For his part, he sat quietly for the process, I listened closely for any movement from outside, but it was still quiet for now. For now was the key. I knew I had just a few minutes until a body was found and security got off their ass and looked at the cameras. I disconnected the hose and stood.
"Ok, what's the fastest way out?"
He glanced at my flamethrower, and made a small noise, the cleared his throat and answered. I stepped towards the door, ready to run, and I heard a shuffle behind me. I deployed my foot spikes and spun, activating my jets. My toes hit him under his armpit just as he reached for the tablet. His ribs cracked like twigs, and I felt my toes sink into the fibrous membrane of his lungs. He gasped, and fell backwards, sliding off my foot with a squelch, landing hard on the ground, his head cracking against the linoleum.
I turned again, and dashed out. I made it about halfway to the exit Dr. Menson had described before the alarms went off. I doubled down, letting my arms flail as I focused all my brain power on my jerky running. I deployed my knives, letting them swing and slash anyone I ran past, the world seemed to streak away as I burst out into the warehouse I had first arrived in, and I flew past the people in their cleansuits. The bay door tore apart like it wasn't there when I hit it, and I found myself tumbling down, rolling, bouncing, twisting, my limbs going haywire as I fell into trees- real trees, and heard the bullets zipping blindly around me. I could make it, I was going to make it, if I could get to the city, to the underground, I could make it, I just needed to-
I came bursting out of the trees onto a highway, and saw a streak of lights as I was impacted, my system shutting down, everything going black.
~~~
I lay on the rooftop, watching my target below. Once the street was clear, I'd make my move. It had been almost two full week since I had last seen a cop like him around, I might need to move my hunting grounds again soon. The civilian he had been harassing walked off, flipping the cop off as he went, and I made my move. I dropped down like a hawk, my vibroknife slipping into the base of his neck as I hit the ground, severing his brainstem and programming node in one move. He went stiff, and collapsed to the ground, unmoving, silent as I was. I pulled the hoses out of my bag and hooked them up to him, and then myself. His fluids pumped out clear. Good, that meant he'd just had it changed. I tear off his shirt and smile at his augments. He was on the thinner side, so that meant his parts would work, or they should. I look at my broken, useless left arm, then at his new, grey model and smile. His eyes widen as I pull out my tool kit. I'd have to work quickly if I wanted to get the parts swapped before anyone came. Luckily this was the last thing I needed to replace after the accident, the rest had been pulled from other pigs like this one, bit by bit.
His face spasmed with pain as I started disconnecting nerves. I'd be whole again soon. Life was good, and who needed public stations to exchange my fluids? I preferred this way better. It felt better. It felt right. I wrenched the arm free and his mouth opened in a soundless scream. I stared at his contorted face, and wondered if I should feel any pity.
No, I decided. He made his decisions. He could live with the consequences.
Or die, either way, it was the same to me.