By Prender

TF (body parts, ASFR)

Angie woke up abruptly, her heart pounding and her head whirling. Second thoughts? She was having third, fourth and fifth thoughts.

What the fuck did she think she was doing??? They were going to cut her in half, for Chrissakes! Not only that, she was going to pay them to do it.

She was going to fly to a clinic, they were going to put her in some box, and they were going to make her half robot.

She must be fucking insane.

*

Maybe it was two years without sex, since her boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend (ex-best friend now). Maybe she’d just had a secret fetish all along. Whatever.

All she knew was that day on the bus, when the girl with the Body Works legs had got on, it had hit her straight in the … well, you know what.

The woman was wearing a leather dress, low cut in the back. Warm, tanned flesh on top. And underneath …

Silver.

Silver legs.

Body Works had been new then, with their promise of “it’s you — but better!” Replacing your limbs with cybernetic parts had been controversial. Only a few people did it — hipsters, trendsetters, the deeply weird.

But this girl was beautiful, like a model, and she seemed … normal. Just someone with gorgeous, lithe robot legs.

As luck would have it, she sat opposite Angie. Now, Angie knew it was rude to stare. But hell, did she stare that day.

She’d flicked her gaze up and caught the woman’s face. The smile. The little smile that said “Yeah, I did it. No regrets. I’m different from you. And oh, by the way, my eyes are up here.”

Angie had ridden five stops past the one she should have got off at just to be with her.

And when the girl had got off, she went on for another stop, just so she wouldn’t seem like a stalker.

*

That night, in bed, Angie didn’t even get the vibrator out. She didn’t need any help tonight. No, all she needed was the image of that woman’s legs peeping out from under her dress.

That was all the motivation. Well, except for the thought that struck her, just as she was on the verge of an orgasm …

How far up did the Body Works modification go?

Was it just the legs? Or was it … more?

Oh fuck!

Angie reared up in the air and banged her head against the headboard, again and again, until the waves finally stopped coming.

God, she hadn’t had one as powerful as that for years.

She thought of the legs.

She reached there again.

*

Angie wasn’t gay. She thought of herself as fairly straight, unless she was drunk, and then she and her friends would have a good snog. She’d even had drunken sex with a female co-worker after the Christmas party, years ago. But fairly straight, yeah.

So when the thought came into her head, it surprised her.

I want to fuck her.

And she kept thinking that for a week or more until finally, finally, with some self-reflection and self-loathing and some more orgasms that she admitted to herself what the thought really meant.

I want to be her.

*

See, though, the thing about getting beautiful shiny new silver legs, legs that had balls for kneecaps, legs that could even go backwards, was that to put them on, they had to take your own legs off.

Angie didn’t like that idea.

I mean, she thought, that’s sick. That’s asking someone to turn you into an amputee. And what did they do with the leftover legs, anyway?

Plus, wouldn’t it hurt? Having your legs cut off! Yeah, that would be a world of pain, for sure.

Angie did a little bit of reading on the subject.

She looked up some stuff on the internet. Then she looked up some more stuff on the internet. Then she basically filled up her browser history with stuff on the internet about Body Works.

Reviews. Fetish sites. Feature articles. Interviews. She came across the woman she’d seen on the bus. Apparently she actually was a model. There were pictures of her with the interview. Angie looked at those pictures for a long, long time. In bed. She’d printed them out.

The model mentioned that she’d got more than just the legs.

Some men’s magazine featured the first Body Works centrefold. Angie bought that issue. “It’s for my husband,” she’d told the guy at the newsstand.
Most of all, she looked at the Body Works website.

See, Body Works had a beautiful website. The modifications they did ranged from just a finger to pretty much your entire body except for your head. (Some Body Works fan forums rumoured that there were going to be total Body Worked people, where they took your brain and encased it in something that let you transfer it from robot body to robot body. Yeah, Angie was a member of Body Works fan forums.)

Each modification had its own page, with a description of the modification, the process, an interview with the person who’d been modified (they were all thrilled with the work, of course), and pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.

Lots and lots and lots.

The batteries in Angie’s vibrator went dead from lack of use.


Angie’s least favourite page on the website was the price list.

Getting a new shiny body part wasn’t cheap. It was, in fact, hugely expensive. Not out of reach expensive, just hugely expensive. Not sell your house to fund it expensive, just you’ll never pay off that student debt expensive.

Angie had a good job, it paid well, and she was going places for sure. But the job demanded she live in a big city, where rents were high and just living your life fucking drained your purse.

Occasionally Body Works modified people for free. A football player who had been run over by a train got complimentary new legs. A girl who had a big following on Instagram got robot arms and boobs, and Periscoped the operation.

People, however, who got free mods tended to be popular, famous, young or beautiful, or some combination of the four.

Angie was 37 and of average prettiness.

She didn’t have a chance.

*

Angie tore up the pictures she’d printed out. She deleted all the bookmarks on her computer. She devoted herself to her job and to her surprise was made a partner by year’s end.

*

A couple of years passed.

Angie was earning good money now. And meanwhile, as Body Works got more popular, prices dropped. Capitalism in action.

No longer hugely expensive, just expensive. And then moderately expensive.

Angie remembered the day she’d seen the girl with the silver legs on the bus. It had been a day that stood out, partly because it was the first time she’d seen someone who’d been Body Worked in real life.

Now, every time she caught the bus, there were at least a couple of people with robot parts on there.

Hell, her boss’ personal assistant had arms made of perspex, her gears and wires clearly visible through the material.

*

Angie began to peep at the Body Works website again.

Body Works updated its website daily, of  course, but every year they’d do a big relaunch, an entire new site, and an entire new set of modifications. And this year’s was a doozy.

She sat in front of her laptop, staring in wonder at each new page, each new revelation. How far they’d come in just a few years!

When she got to the section on Aria, a woman who’d been brain-cased — who had an entire robot body, with a tiny black ball for a head, who shared her time in a sexy silver robot body and as an entire house — it fired her up. In many more ways than one.

And this year’s price list wasn’t even moderately expensive. It was almost reasonable.

There was a link on each page of the Body Works website. “Go here to arrange an interview with a Body Works representative.”

Angie’s finger hovered over the link for a long time.

Then she clicked it.

*

“So what exactly are you thinking of having modified?”

The representative was called Cassandra. She was beautiful. And naked. Her entire body from the next down was made up of some kind of black latex and she wore her black hair with a severe fringe, giving her a slightly dominatrix look. She had no nipples or genitalia that Angie could see.

Angie took a deep breath. “I was thinking … well … definitely legs. And … uh … maybe something more?”

“By more, do you mean genitals?” Cassandra said matter-of-factly.

“I … er … I guess … I mean … yes.”

A little tingle ran through Angie. She’d said it.

Cassandra smiled, a surprisingly friendly smile. She flipped open her laptop. “Let’s go through some options.”

*

Angie woke up at 3am, scared as hell.

She had agreed to have her entire lower body removed, from one inch above her navel, and replaced with robot parts. Sleek, shiny, silver robot parts.

There’ll be no pain, they said. Our nanotechnology guarantees that. And once you’ve been Body Worked, you can upgrade your parts at any time.

They offered her free engraving on her legs — a popular form of tattooing for those with robot limbs — but Angie had never been into that. No, she wanted smooth shiny silver.

Oh God, she was terrified.

And, a tiny voice somewhere in her skull whispered, not just terrified. But … excited?

Thrilled?

She was actually going to do it. Wasn’t she?

Yes. She was.

An image of her dipped in silver from the waist down came to mind. She reached down to her crotch.

Goodbye, clitoris, she thought. This may be the last time I ever use you. You’ll be gone soon.

No, the voice whispered. Not gone. Replaced.

By something better.

*

“Good flight?”

The receptionist at the Body Works clinic had four arms and a bright smile.

“Yes, thanks, very nice,” Angie said. The pleasantries calmed her down.

“That’s good,” the receptionist said. One of her arms pressed a button. “Someone will be down in a minute to show you to your suite, and your modifier will meet with you shortly to discuss the procedure. Have a nice day, and thanks for choosing Body Works to improve you!”

*

The modifier turned out to be a grey-haired man with an easy grin and silver hands. He ran through everything that would happen to her — how she’d be taken to a theatre and injected with nanotech that would remove her unwanted parts, then she’d be fitted with her new bottom half via automation. Heh, Angie thought. Robots are going to make me a robot.

“Oh, one last thing,” the modifier said as he was leaving. “Did you want to be conscious?”

“Conscious?”

“Well, as I’ve said, it’s a painless procedure but some people prefer to be asleep during the operation. Others actually like seeing what’s happening to them on the monitors. Which would you prefer?”

Angie’s heart skipped a beat.

“I think,” she said, “I’d like to watch.”

*

The procedure was a blur. Afterwards Angie could never remember much about what had happened, even though she’d watched the whole thing.

Except for one moment. When the machines working around her had retreated for a second and she saw herself, half a woman, lying on a bed, and then the machines moved in again to form a bright silver band around her waist. The start of her new life.

It was one of the most erotic things she’d even seen.

*

Two weeks later.

The bus door opened and Angie stepped on, confidently and with ease. She was so much stronger now, more than capable of running to work without even getting tired, but she liked taking the bus. And showing off.

Today she was wearing a sober black suit with a short skirt that showed off her legs.

Her beautiful silver legs.

They’d explained at Body Works how she had a holograph option that with a mere thought could make her legs seem completely human. Angie knew she’d never use it.

She sat next to a young woman who began sneaking glances down at her legs. She was trying to be discreet but Angie could see her reflected in her legs. That’s okay, she thought, go and stare. I’ve been there too.

Being watched like this was quite exciting.

Angie accessed her menu and set her orgasm control to mild and infrequent. And something began to build in her genitals. Well, one of her genitals. She had a choice of 16 now.

By her third orgasm she’d missed her stop and would have to get off and go back.

That was okay. She could run it.

As she got off, she nodded at a guy getting on who had telltale cybernetic eyes. He nodded back.

One of us.

She was now, finally, one of them.