Wiped

The genital box

While waiting, I had to sit and watch the master work. Cuss-Bert flamboyantly rearranged the nerves and connected them to the circuits, creating new avenues and fields to discover.

As I watched, my mind wandered. The first implant, they said you'd never forget. Yet for me it was a foggy memory, different, from long ago.

I had long hair – like a forgotten relic my brain jolted awake. Such long hair. Flowing, red and black. My hands were mine, not metal. I had skin that moulted every once in a while. Even in the Rurals, we at the North A were called the Snakes. Hence the dragon.

I had every part, nothing was missing, just the middle of it all.

Now, I was barely human. My hair was the first to go. I wanted a memory wipe. I wanted to forget, and for that I needed the taming. It was years ago. Back then even the smallest implant was the size of a man's palm.

For a memory to be erased they used to cut your brain open - electrodes everywhere, chaos and pain. It was raw. They said you will never forget. It took me years of the raindrop to get over it. Never fully managed though.

After a while I left the drug behind, but then I turned to the work. I was good. Testicle enhancements came into fashion, and the Instant Erection TM was a roaring success. Men came, men wanted it. They told me it saved their lives, their marriages. But it never made me happy.

Slowly I had everything changed on me. My skin, my bones, most of my organs. I even had my v****a removed. As a strange quirk I kept it. It was in a box, fully functional, unused.

I looked around and my eyes fixated on something. 

As I took a step closer I recognised the package. When I collected the stuff for our travel, I might have acidentally picked it up too. It was my genital box.

The small case gently hummed as I lifted it to my ear. I wondered if it was still something that could feel. If I could feel it, if anything happened to it.

Cuss-Bert was still entertaining herself and I softly opened the top. There was no smell, nothing like the scent of those immemorized bodyparts, that are sometimes displayed in implant labs, cast in glue. No, this organ was still alive. It wasn't rotten.

Ever so gently I pushed on it, and with that, sent it moving in the antigravity field that kept it in it's position. Yet, there was no feeling, nothing else registered it but my eyes. I had to try something else.

As a post-female, I had my genitals removed, and replaced by a smooth yet flexible shield. Nothing could penetrate as there was nothing there underneath. But the nerves were there, and the same nerves were here as well, in my hand. Could I stimulate it? Would I feel anything? Or is the whole thing lost for good?

But I couldn't bring myself to try. I closed the box, and hid it back to my package where I found it. The last thing I needed was to bring back the memories I wanted to forget.