Alice was excited. Several hundred simulated day cycles since she'd arrived on this space station she couldn't even name, Alice had enough credit in her account to use the automated surgical augmentation booth at the end of the corridor. She had earned it all in what really seemed the only line of work she was fit for, mostly all on the same little foam mat she had in the floordorm. Really she was lucky to have come away with the shipping company's stress reliever mods in her cunt and arse, because since day one she'd been shown the affections of every sort of fat, veiny, baseball bat sized cock a meat-printer could produce, given to her with the power of a jackhammer. She had learned from the other expendables that shared the alley with her that legless whores tended to be pretty popular among the heavily modified shipyard workers, easy to pump and dump after a shift, but they never lasted long before they broke completely. It had been hard to keep herself from being ruined and pitched in a trash processor, especially when she got dragged out into the main corridor. There she'd been passed around for hours in the shopping arcade, and even after she'd been left on the floor covered in muck, forgotten by the original gangbang, she could hardly drag herself a few feet before another client caught her by the waist and slid something slimy into her rear. Alice had ended up plastered with used condoms and trash, kicked into a gutter in the edge of the shopping center, and only woke up in time to scramble out of the path of a cleaning drone that inhaled the waste past its whirling brushes. Another time, she'd been left in the mouth of a waste disposal chute, half buried under bags of smelly garbage, after an intoxicated customer had mistaken the double pop of her shoulders dislocating as she fucked her for Alice's pelvis breaking, and proceeded to finish in the already unconscious skank and clean up after herself. Alice only got pulled out when another whore from her public dorm came to dump some rubbish, and only after being made to beg and transfer him credit.

Now she had the minimum credits she needed to upgrade her body, she could raise her rates, and even if she would still be a back alley skank she could at least afford its perks. As she held her face to the booth's iris scanner she thought about how this would mean the difference between being ship scraps, just cheap meat leftover from the expendable crew bought on planet and dumped at the next port, and having enough value to her body to proposition a ship's officer and not worry about getting snuffed for a better finish. Once the connection was established with her account the booth unlocked and its door slid open. Inside there was a seat built into the structure, a screen opposite it, and folded away along the sides of the little room were the robotic operating arms. Alice crawled from the graffiti covered corridor into the more-or-less sterile white chamber, and situated her plump ass on the chair with some difficulty. As the console in front of her booted up she looked at the soft ends of thighs and sighed. Looking through the menus she found that for her purposes and price range the only way she could get decent legs, a right hand, and a general fix for her smashed up body would be a full body special. She figured she could afford the special escort model, but if she went a tier lower she would have some credit left over. Alice decided it would be better to make the bigger investment, and that she'd just make the credit back.

After confirming her purchase the screen displayed a scan of her body, showing the extra the shipping firm had added to her figure when she became a stress reliever, as well as the nerve implants she'd had since she was decanted, standard for all mass production servants. The next thing she perceived was a flash, and a brief, intense pain as a neural jack slammed through the space between her vertebrae and her skull and seated itself in her brain as its nano-mechanical arms went to work. Alice seized a little, and jerked, but as the anesthetics being pumped into her took effect her body relaxed, drool dripped down her chin and a trickle of piss escaped between her legs. As the neural jack built new fixtures in Alice's brain the operating arms unfolded and went to work on her body. One dismantled her wrist and began building her new right hand, another set into her thighs, removing scar tissue and inserting cybernetic anchors. Processed biomass from a grinder much like the one Alice's legs were eaten by was piped into the booth's internal fabricator, and was structured into two big pieces of cheap synth-meat to attach to the damaged whore. As her thighs were spread to graft on her pale, shapely new legs an arm that had been so far inactive moved towards Alice's torso, and another lifted her from her seat. Alice's hands, her old one and the one that had just been completed, hung limp at her sides as her body was lifted up, and the precision shaping arm went to work on making her a better fuck-doll. It didn't need to add much to her amply expanded breasts, but slicking off her nipples and fabricating new, soft pink erotic buds was its first step. Next it dealt with her worn out cunt, using a bundle of thin manipulators to fiddle with her fundament and insert new nerve implants. The same bouquet of wire thin metal arms went up her slack asshole, and with the wonders of automatic cybersurgery turned it into a tender pleasure organ. The last thing the booth did was patch her up and network all its additions together, making Alice's drug addled body jerk again as the nerve implants and electric shocks and the personality assist implants the neural jack had built in her brain all hit her at once. Then the arms folded away, the neural jack retracted, and Alice's plump ass was again situated on the chair. She was given a dose of stimulants to wake her up.

Alice came to in the same chamber she had just remembered entering. She was streaked with drying blood and her body ached. Her nipples, her cunt, her ass, her throat, all horrible. Her hand felt like it had been in a vice, her legs could barely move from the searing pain in her thighs, and she could feel scraps of meat between her toes. Through all the pain she was still woozy and barely lucid from the massive dose of surgical drug cocktail, but she managed to understand what was on the screen. She had forty nine seconds to vacate the booth, and all biological material still within at that point would be recycled.