What Price A Miracle

My last barely coherent thoughts as I lay on the road, every part of my body screaming in anguish, were that I would never see Brianna grow up, and that Brianna would grow up without her mother, or any family at all to love her. Through all the noise of the crowd and the sirens, I could hear her crying and calling for me, though of course that was impossible. I had left her at the nursery an hour before, and now there would be no one to collect her.

Except I didn't die. I awoke in the hospital, unable to feel anything at all. I opened my eyes to see Mr Allan, the head of the robotics company I worked for. "Ah," he said. "Excellent. We weren't sure you would wake up."

"Brianna," I said - or tried to say. My mouth would not cooperate.

"Don't try to speak," he said, "but if you're asking about your daughter, she's fine. In fact, provided you agree to the next part of this procedure, I will make sure the two of you are reunited and that she will have the best schooling that money can buy."

My heart leapt at the thought. Nothing mattered more to me than my daughter's future - but what was he talking about? "What -" Again I could not speak. Could not move.

Mr Allan nodded. "You were severely injured in the accident - we have you on life support and, honestly, it's touch and go. But don't worry. I can build you a whole new body from scratch. The doctors do need you to agree to the procedure first. You'll have a long life ahead of you, Lucy. With Brianna. What do you say?"

I nodded - or tried to, at least. Somehow he understood. "Excellent, Lucy." He pressed a button and, as unconsciousness reclaimed me, the thought of being with my daughter again was a blissful relief.

I awoke in bed feeling full of energy. There was no numbness, no pain as I sat up, just confusion at the strange surroundings. The bedroom was the size of my whole flat, and ornately decorated in a way that spoke of wealth. Placed on the chair by the bed were clothes - a French maid uniform, black with a white trim, white fishnet holdups and black stiletto-heeled shoes. Belatedly, I became aware of my own nakedness, and the enlarged size of my breasts.

"What the -" I said, lifting them with my hands. They felt real enough. There was a tall mirror in the corner and I hurried over to stand in front of it, and saw a young woman who only vaguely resembled my former self. My hair was now platinum ringlets, framing a face both pretty and pouting. My skin was smooth, with no trace of hair anywhere other than my head. My stomach was toned and my waist narrow in a way that emphasised a firm bubble butt, and my breasts... were huge.

Slowly the pieces fit together. The memories of what had happened. The crash. The bedside visit from Mr Allan. My body... was gone. This was something new. Synthetic. Everything about my new self looked real and felt real, even the delicate labia that I dared to explore with my fingertips...

I was wet! Not aroused, but definitely wet. Staring back at me from the mirror was not a human but a robotic fuck-toy.

I crawled back into bed, wanting to cry but unable to. "Mummy?" a voice said quietly.

A very confused face was peeking around the edge of the door. Relief like electricity surged through me. "Brianna!" I called for her with my hand, reached out to her. Could she really recognise me in this new body?

Tentatively she joined me in the bed, and after a moment's hesitation caught me in a tight embrace. "I love you, Mummy," she said through tears. Eventually she calmed, though. "Your new body is very pretty, Mummy. Mr Allen says we will be living here now. I hope we can. There are so many rooms, and lots of toys, and the food here is great."

I looked at the clothes that were waiting for me, wondering whether there was any choice at all. "Yes, honey," I said. "We can stay here, but Mummy... still has to go to work."

I dressed in my suggestive uniform, kissed my daughter's forehead, and went to discover what price I would be paying for this... miracle.