I had been a member of the staying quiet camp, the 'Future Subs' as the Swap Clinic fan forums called them. I had put in for a life swap months ago, only a few weeks into my now frustratingly long drought of unemployment. I had only selected for it to be Partnered in the hopes of speeding up the process, the thought of having someone I know join me on the journey never really crossing my mind.
Butterflies fill my stomach as I glance between my car in the distance and the phone in my hand, my thumb slowly scrolling through the email as I spot the words that made my heart skip a beat only a day ago.
You and your Partner have been assessed, you're new partnership will be:
The drive to the Swap Clinic is oddly long, the more distant facility in the boonies being used to facilitate the more organized and scheduled swaps. Due to the need to make well defined appointments within set time frames there needed to be rooms to spare, something that could not be guaranteed with more popular walk-in offices throughout the city and suburbs.
I sit in silence as I drive, my stomach churning and my heart racing as I dwell on what I was about to do. The lingering thoughts run in circles, causing me to lose track of time as I find my GPS calling for me to pull into the small and relatively empty parking lot beside a stout brick building covered in a thick white render.
As I pull into the nearest spot I pull my phone from my pocket again, quickly checking the email. My lips part a little as I read the relationship that would be foisted on me once more, the pit of my stomach sinking as I begin to worry just what could be on the other side of the swap. I had spent the better part of the day yesterday searching through all the other options people had found themselves in, from wealthy retirees to childhood sweethearts and even becoming siblings.
"Why couldn't it have been business partners, or co-workers, or... or... something?" I groan, thumping my head against the steering wheel. The thought of being thrown into a relationship after being single for so long was one thing, the idea that it'd be with someone I know was another kettle of fish altogether.
With a deep breath I slump back in my seat, checking the time on my phone as my appointment time approaches.
"It's just a month..." I whisper, trying to calm myself down and to reduce the flop sweat that was building in my arm pits and around my forehead. Really it could be far longer, a lifetime in fact if the person in my body enjoyed the single unemployed life.
A small weak grin spreads across my lips as I think about the potential upsides of the next month. Opening the car door and stepping out, stretching my tall and lanky form after the long drive out to the clinic, I let out a slight chuckle. "Guess it'll be fun to have a girlfriend again" I muse, locking up and walking out towards the footpath in search of the front door.
The lingering thoughts of being in a relationship cause a slight stirring in my jeans as I round the corner, my cock quickly reacting to the images of plowing some unfamiliar beauty that race through my mind. As I reach the single door leading inside, the metal handle covered in chipping black paint, my lecherous thoughts turn sour as I remember that it'd be someone close to me that I'd be plowing.
"Fuck..." I wheeze, wincing and sneering as I pull at the door. "This is going to be weird..."
As I step inside the small rectangular waiting room I'm immediately met with the smell of dust, the dank and musty scent clinging to the aging dark blue carpet and well worn fabric seats. To my surprise there isn't anyone waiting, the faint sound of day-time-TV coming from a tiny blocky CRT screen bolted up in the far right corner.
Sitting behind the central counter I spot an slender and bored looking woman in her late forties, her icy blue eyes locked to the TV to her left as she files at her claw-like nails. Her blonde hair is styled in a loose bob, the slightly darker roots and the faint hints of graying hair revealing the lack luster dye job.
As the door closes behind me it lets out a loud squeak, the metal scraping against the door frame in an ear piercing tone. The 'blonde' practically jumps from her seat, her eyes going wide as she frantically moves to unlock her computer.
"Oh... hello..." she croaks, her voice crackling as she has to cough a little. "Welcome to the..." she continues, pausing as the computer screen. "Are you Mr. Hughes or..." she begins to ask, her gaze looking over me.
"Yeah..." I murmur, walking up towards her. My nerves mount once again, my heart hammering in my chest as I reach the counter. "I mean, yeah I'm Jor..." I begin to reiterate, the blonde clicking at her mouse before looking over her shoulder to a chipped wooden door behind her.
"Just through there Mr. Hughes" she chirps, the shakiness in her voice falling away as she composes herself. "Dr. Jacobs will get you ready before your partner gets..."
"Could you..." I begin to ask, inching around the counter towards the door. "I mean, is it possible to..."
"Unfortunately I can't tell you who you've been..." she begins to state, giving me a slight sympathetic wince. "You'll find out soon though" she chirps, cutting off her own train of thought to try and spin a more positive point of view.
I simply nod in reply, giving her a weak smile as I reach the door. With a pause I reach out, grabbing the small handle and giving it a twist before pushing the door open. I soon find myself looking into the tiny office, the cramped room releasing a sweltering heat as the door swings open. Two large machines sit against the back wall, the massive devices easily taking up well over half the room and littering the walls and floor with various sets of colored cabling and metal tubing.
Racing around, drenched in sweat, I spot a woman in her mid-thirties, the poor short thing struggling in the oppressive heat. Her olive-toned skin is drenched in sweat, the thick lab coat hanging from her slender shoulders hanging open and unbuttoned a she tries to keep cool. Her slender frame is dressed in a set of light and breathable short and a loose tank top, the summery outfit contrasting with the professional coat she was likely forced to wear.
She pivots in place, looking up at me with almond shaped dark brown eyes. She flashes a short smile, wiping at her forehead to clear away sweat and stuck hairs from her messy and unkempt fringe.
"Please take a seat" she croaks, tripping her way over a bundle of wires as she impacts the desk beside the door. She quickly rights herself, typing away at the computer as the booth on the right whirs and hums gently.
Giving her a little nod I begin to walk in, moving to close the door behind me.
"Wait!" she shouts, holding out her hand to stop me. "Leave it open... please..." she wheezes, the oppressive heat of the room seemingly getting to her.
"Uh... sure?" I mutter, letting go of the handle as she sighs softly. "But what about priva..."
"It's fine" she murmurs, leaning over to try and get some of the cooler air from outside on her rounded face. "You're the only two bookings for like... an hour. No one will see you make the trade or nothing" she blurts out, her short frame slumping as she breathes in the fresher air.
As I approach the machine I finally feel the source of the heat in the room. While I'm sure in a slightly larger space these things would be fine, while cramped together and sitting side by side there was little chance for the heat generated from the massive devices to dissipate effectively.
Inside is a small little seat, the hard plastic seemingly well worn after years of use. The machines themselves certainly didn't look as old, the difference in age causing me to cock as eyebrow as I take my seat.
"Maybe it's a spare paaaaaaa...." I begin to muse, the last word drawing out as I go slack jawed. A numbing vibration begins to build inside my skull, the room quaking as my eyes rumble in their sockets.
I can't move an inch, my body simply not responding to any of my commands. Thankfully I remain upright despite it all, some unseen force making me balance on the seat.
"There we go..." Dr. Jacobs murmurs by her computer, finishing her key strokes with a flourish. "You're all locked in and ready to have the important bits transferred . We just need your..." she states, turning to face me as she leans against the counter.
"Are you here for..." comes the faint voice of the receptionist, her words dropping to an inaudible whisper as the second machine begins to whir to life beside me.
"Speak of the devil" Dr. Jacobs coos, wiping another bout of sweat from her face as she preemptively begins to get the second machine ready.
I stare ahead of me, unable to move as my gaze fixates on the doorway leading into the tiny room I was trapped inside. Despite the blurring of my vision I watch as someone paces through the doorway, a gasp escaping their lips as they spot me.
Slowly but surely they approach me, the image of their face slowly coming into view. Before long, I find myself staring up at the visage of...
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