Stolen 1

You wake up to an apocalyptic headache.  Your head is pounding, you can barely think.  Evidently, the bachelor party was a success.

You open your eyes for just a second, but light is flooding the room and you immediately shut them again.  Slowly, memories from the previous night begin to return.  There was the trip to the casino after steaks, trying to find a cab ride to the strip club, the next stop at a night club, meeting that drunk armless girl...

That girl!  She was all over you.  She was beautiful.  You vaguely remember long, dark brown hair, and arms removed just after the shoulder.  You were both extremely drunk when you met.  She was leaning over the bar drinking a mojito through a straw and... you remember getting into a cab with her.  Did she come back to your hotel room?

You finally bring yourself to open your eyes.  You're still groggy, and it is taking a while for your vision to adjust.  This must be the worst hangover you have ever had, your entire body feels numb for some reason.  

After a minute, your eyes clear.  But you're in the hotel bathroom, facing the mirror.  Why arent you in the bedroom?  And why are you sitting up?  When your eyes focus ahead on the bathroom mirror, you are in shock.

You have heard of this happening all the time with girls.  They go out to a club to get drunk and get laid, and go home with some guy who ends up being a body mod surgeon.  He'll hook their heads up to a life support collar, and steal their bodies for sale on the black market.  Girls looking for different tits, a second set of legs, a skinnier torso or multiple sets of arms, could buy these parts for transplant at a steep discount if they were stolen.  Being drugged and robbed like this was becoming so common for women who went out frequently, and the cost of an entire body to transplant the victim's head onto so expensive, that insurance was even offered for just such an occasion.

But none for men.  You have never heard of this happening to a man, and you look at yourself in the bathroom mirror in shock.  You have been set upon the lid of the toilet, just so that you could see yourself in the mirror when you awoke.  Your body was been removed, nowhere to be seen.  You are now a head attatched to a metal collar where your neck once was.  On the face of the face of the collar, a few small lights blink, the black receiver for an infra-red remote is visible, as are a couple small recessed buttons.  The collar (and your head) are suspended half a foot above the lid of the toilet on a wire stand designed to cradle the collar.  Hanging underneath the collar is your penis and testicles, attached to the bottom of the life support device and hanging through the top ring of the wire stand.  After a few speechless minutes just observing your new form, you gain awareness of loud noises from the hotel bedroom.  it sounds like equipment being packed, a table being folded.  Muffled voices, and high heels on tile.  The girl from last night walks in.

"Ah, you've finally come to!  Well, how do you like it?"  You cannot think of anything to say, and she laughs softly.  "I hope this isn't much of a inconvinience for you, but do you have any idea how much money your body is going to get us?"

You stutter "What.... what the fuck!  I never did anything to you!  You fucking maniac!"  You think to yourself, is that the best you can do?  But you truly are at a loss for words.  You struggle, but it only results in you moving your head about on your collar.  

She leans over, her eyes level with yours.  "Come on now.  There is no need for such language.  I thought you'd be nice to me, seeing as how I left you your..."  She giggles, and her eyes glance downward at your member.  "We really didn't have to be so kind.  We could have taken it, as well.  But I was feeling altruistic, and honestly I doubt yours in particular would fetch a particularly high price," she giggles again, "so we attatched it to the other ond of your spine, underneath your collar!  Now, dont tell me you don't like it.  We went through all that effort to transplant it.  You shouldn't be rude.   Or do you want us to unpack the table and knives and take that thing with us when we go?"  She sees the somehow even more horrified look on your face.  "Thats what I thought.  Now, any questions?"

"Who is we?  Why did you do this?  How!?"

"Slow down sweetie, one at a time!  'We' are me and my partner, we did it because we need money and because your type have taken advantage of enough drunk women, and I had an anaesthetic on my lips which I happen to have been immunized to.  Does that clear things up?

You cannot beleive what you are hearing.  Or seeing, for that matter.  "I have NEVER taken advantage!  We were both drunk!  And who is this 'partner?'"

Once again, she laughs softly.  "Yes, I know, this is all very morally ambiguous.  But you will not meet my partner."  You can still hear the sounds of someone packing up in the next room.  "Do you know how fast we'd be caught if you could just have the FBI open up a book of all the surgeons in the area who have been recently disbarred for medical malpractice, organized by gender and a rough age estimate?  How fast do you think theyd be able to ID us if youve seen her face?  No, my partner is not stupid.  I am the looks of this operation, but she is the brains - and the hands, I guess."

"What am I going to do!  i have a job, and-"

"Stop being a fucking baby.  Lots of girls sell parts of, or even their entire bodies nowadays.  I mean, you obviously have a thing for armless girls, and they get along just fine.  How do you expect women to conform to your idea of beauty, when you cringe at the prospect of living like they do?  What's your job?"

"Um... I'm a systems administrator at a-"

"Great!  You work with computers.  You probably told me that last night, but I was so bored and pretending to be drunk that I most likely forgot.  Look, your collar is directly integrated with your spine, attached to all those nerves that used to do things like move your stupid, valuable arms and legs around.  Now, you can connect to a computer using that little port on the back of your collar, and use those same nerves to do the same damn job you do every day.  Probably even better.  And maybe you can save up for a while and buy one of those dorky spider leg attatchments for the bottom of your collar.  Those are made for girls though, so I don't know how that would work with your... "  she glances down at your penis again and giggles "but I'm sure you'll figure something out. "

She seems to be having fun.  You try to speak, but are interrupted again.  "Or, quit your job!  Get a better one!  The air force is looking for brains they can put in their jets!  They can make the cockpits super small if theyre only accomodating for a brain in a vat!  Or an astronaut!  They've been talking about sending people up with only small provisouns and a reduction in clunky life support systems for a while now!"  You're pretty sure she is being sarcastic.  You are furious, you cannot remember anyone in your life you have hated more.  but you are utterly helpless, only able to move your head around, perched on top of your stand.  She continues.  "So, jobs, no problem!  You should be thanking me!  Now what about your social life?  Oooo, what about your friends and family?  Well, asshole, I've bet you've taken an SWB or a four-tittied girl or a centauress home to meet the folks, havent you?  Why are you so embarrased when YOURE the one with the body mod?  Or, maybe you haven't shown off a modded girlfriend before.  Thats what you desire, but you're ashamed of it?  You fucking hypocrites."

She doesn't seem serious.  You wonder how many times she has given this speech before.  its no wonder she has been successfull, she could lure anyone into bed with her.  Obviously, she has money, she must be armless by choice.  or because it makes her job that much easier.

But you are coming to your senses, and realize that you want her caught.  You want justice, but more importantly, you want your body back.  In must be in those cases you've heard being loaded in the next room, arms and legs in one suitcase, torso in another.  You can just picture them now.  Scream for help.  Your'e in a hotel.  Why arent you screaming?  You decide to scream for help, for the police, for anyone, but you only get a few words in before a woman's hand - this must be the partner - reaches into the doorway, holding something small, and clicks a button.  After this, you can no longer hear yourself.

"Yeah, its about time you tried that.  Look, in your old body, you had lungs, which got you oxygen and moved air past the vocal chords in your neck.  But in your new body, you get a super cool high-tech little device that mechanically oxygenates your new synthetic blood!  Isnt that neat!?"  This girl is a real bitch.  "So, in order to talk, in this particular model of collar - which is the cheapest we could buy - there is a small fan which moves air past your vocal chords to allow speech.  Lucky for us, and for anyone who might date you in the future, the fan can be switched off.  That, and a bunch of other functions, can be controlled by a little remote!"

"Now, you didn't let me finish.  Oh yeah! And what about your love life!  Do you have a girlfriend?  Dont worry, I was considerate enough to leave you with your dick.  You'll still be able to have sex... or, I guess, others will be able to have sex with you.  Hey, the sides of your collar has screw-in mounts for handles!  You wont be anyones sex partner, youll be their sex toy.  But you tried to lay me, didn't you?  You wanted someone with no arms to be your sex toy.  Is it really so catastrophic that you are a sex toy now?  You know, this could be really good for you.  Some toys are shared... a lot."  

You cannot help it, you are not sure whether it's what she is saying or the tone of her voice, but even with all the hatred and terror you feel, you are beginning to get a hard on.  She takes notice, and smiles.  "See?  You'll make a great toy.  You can be muted, abused, shared... and you don't look half bad.  This is why girls get their limbs chopped off.  You're going to be an object... an object of desire.  You're going to try to get back into your normal life, go back to work... but some girl will notice you - if you dont already have a girlfriend.  And they will take you home, willing or unwilling - it does not matter - and you will become their possession.  I know what it feels like.  It's amazing.  I was just like you for a while..."

She leans over and you can see the faint outline of a scar around her neck.  "I love my partner, and once I sold my body.  I was just a head, collar, and pussy.  My pussy and my tounge existed for an explicit, singular purpose - to please her.  Anyways, after the malpractice suit, and her disbarment, I got a better body, and now here we are.  It's a living.  But I think you'll love your new form."  You are rock hard now, embarassed that you are obviously aroused by your predicament.  "We need to take off now, honey.  While we get the hell away from here, we're going to have to leave you on mute.  But don't worry, soon enough the cleaning lady or someone will find you and call the cops.  Lucky for us though, legislation has a lot of catching up to do.  I dont think the courts take 'limb missapropriation' seriously enough just yet.  Ayways, we're outta here!"