Diverted Debts - Part One

My head swims as I slowly come to, the lack of sensation leaving me dazed as my thought struggle to bubble to the surface of my mind. Everything feels muddled and dulled beyond the point of recognition, each of my limbs becoming lost in some sort of buzzing static along with even the most basic of automated actions.

From breathing to my heart beat, everything is lost in the feeling of electric noise that mutes each and every one of my nerves. Next it hits me, the complete lack of sound and faint flickering light sending my mind into a panic. However, despite the building fear I find myself remaining oddly calm physically as the void of sensation seems to contain all the way to my ability to raise my heart rate or hyperventilate.

As my vision begins to clear I find it obscured slightly by a thick vaseline-like ooze, the clear viscous liquid covering my open eyes and keeping them hydrated as I find myself without any ability to do so much as blink. Some monitor nearby flickers with green LEDs forming strange and seemingly random numbers, a main monitor fluctuating with what appears to be a graph of something that's lost on my addled mind.

Body Auction - Part Two

"Here..." she whispers, her voice giving away a slight shortness in her breath. With a little tap she produces two small blue pills from the bottle, and passing them to me. "In-house blend, fast acting. They'll help you put on a show... trust me."

I look between her and the pills, flashing her a weak smile.

"Thanks..." I mutter nervously, rolling the tiny unmarked blue pills in my hand.

"No worries" she whispers back, giving me a little wink. "You've got about five minutes to get ready."

As the stagehand races off, glancing down at a clipboard to work out who would be called after me, I glance down at the pills. I had no idea what they were, though could they be all that bad if the Body Auction staff were handing them out?

Swallowing hard I stand up from my seat, placing the pills in my mouth and swallowing them down before I can have second thoughts.

Rent-to-Swap - Part Two

At another Swap Clinic the renter enters in through the front doors, getting there early to sign much of the remaining paperwork before they could take possession of the body they had so eagerly rented out.

Before long, I would find myself wearing their body, the body of a younger woman for the next week.

Rent-to-Swap - Part One

Sitting alone in my apartment I fiddle with my phone, my eyes darting up to the notification bar over and over as I await the pending pop-up. It was overdue, the email I had been expecting all morning.

I had tried to push the thought from my mind in any way I could. From cooking as a lavish breakfast as I could on my meager budget, to reading the various books on my shelf, to searching the job listings in the hope that I wouldn't need to even read the email I was expecting.

Sadly however nothing had worked, each task in turn slowly ending in me staring down at my phone screen in anxious anticipation.

Suddenly my phone buzzes. Despite having been waiting for it to do so the vibrations on my hands cause me to jump in my seat. Looking at the notification I swallow hard, slowly building up the courage to tap the notification that reads...

SWAP CLINIC: RENT-TO-SWAP APPLICATION

Body Auction - Part One

Sitting backstage, my ass pressing into the partial padding of the aging chair beneath me, I try to keep my nerves down. My leg bounces with anxious energy, the movements jostling the skin-tight paper undergarments I had been told to wear for the event.

Surrounding me are various other people in various states of undress, the women covering just ever so slightly more than the men as what amounts to a loop of tissue paper loosely covers their nipples to little effect.

Some of the cheap seats sit empty, those few that had been sitting there having already left the backstage area to go to the main event. Despite the empty chairs, numerous people dressed in black waltz up and down the paths between us, talking softly into small headsets as they try their best to coordinate the whole event.

The low hum of the crowd barely reaches us backstage, the droning noise being punctuated with various bouts of cheering and jeering as each barely clothed person enters the limelight and other as the deed is done.

The Trait Exchange - Part Three

My body finally wins out, causing me to race to the fridge and the build blocks I so desperately craved. As I rip the door open I barely even notice six new offers come in.

I'm practically drooling as I stare inside the fridge, my gaze rapidly racing over each of the scant few essentials I had left. I had been needing to go shopping, to refill my shelves with the necessities I had been living off of thanks to my limited budget.

The Trait Exchange - Part Two

"I mean... What's the harm in just looking?" I mutter to myself, my teeth clenched as I knew just how impulsive I could be with other purchases. "I'll need to open it anyway to try and block these stupid fucking..."

I stop mid-sentence, my eyes going wide as I recoil at the sight of the offers that had been made just between last night and this morning. As the app loads, I find myself staring at six new offers.

The Trait Exchange - Part One

Wandering past I the kitchen counter, a plate of breakfast in one hand and a mug of piping hot coffee in the other, watch as my phone light's up once again. The screen flickers on, the notification leaving me sighing and rolling my eyes as I read the phrase I had seen what feels like a thousand times before.

New Offer Made: Open Trait Exchange App to View Details

Inhaling deeply I just walk past, not wanting to engage with this nonsense so early in the morning. As I drop my plate of plain and cheap buttered toast on the coffee table I take my seat, grumbling under my breath.

"Stupid fucking... Things..." I huff, looking down at my slender pale arms and the partially revealed shoulder beneath my loose black cotton shirt. "I mean... they're worth it but... I need to work out how to set them to private."

Rental Body - Part Two

"We've picked out the most profitable offer as per your request...It looks like you've been rented out for...a...decade" the young man mutters, his eyes darting back and forth between me and the screen as he talks.

My heart leaps into my throat, my stomach doing somersaults as the time frame sinks in.

Rental Body - Part One

Sitting in the lobby of the Swap Clinic, my eyes straining under the bright fluorescent lights, I await my number to be called. I had been here for a few hours, watching as those other people around me were called up one by one. All manner of people either sat or stood around the room, with Friday's being the Swap Clinic's busiest days.

Indebted and Swapped - Part Four

 

I gasp for air as I feel my senses returning, the headsets grip on my reality easing off before suddenly failing completely. In the dim light of wherever I was, my view mostly obscured by the headset, I begin to smell the scent of melting plastic grow worse and worse. Suddenly I realize what it was, the grinding gears inside my head slowly remembering what could happen to the overloaded headsets.

"Fuck!" I shout, my voice gargling out through my gunked-up early morning throat. I reach up as quickly as I can, ripping the headset off of me and feeling the intense heat radiating from within the machine through the casing. In my sudden movements I'm hit with a strange sensation as my upper arms jiggle and shake violently with the harsh motion, my stomach sinking as I slowly realize what that meant.

"No...no come on" I grunt, slowly moving the darkroom as I feel my heavy body resist sitting up. The weight on my chest is intense, pressing down my me and pooling off to the side as my new assets hang freely. The jiggling mass that is my new stomach pinches and shifts as I wriggle myself into a seated position under the covers, the generous belly I had found myself with reaching out far and sagging enough to touch my slightly raised and plump thighs. I was sinking into the extremely plush bed, my heavy form creating an indent that it was difficult to free myself from.

I find my eyes slowly adjusting to the dim shifting light, the room still appearing hazy due to my lack of glasses. I was in a decently sized room, laying on a rather large queen-sized bed. The frame looked to be made of some sort of wood, thick sturdy blocks raising up well above the mattress in each corner as if to make a half-finished canopy.

Beyond the bed was a cozy room, just big enough to fit what it needed while leaving enough space for free movement. With the bed resting in the middle of the room, flat against the wall opposite the door, the rest of the room was designed around it.

Two bedside tables rest on either side of the bed. Though it was hard to tell in the limited light and through my poor vision they appeared to be made from the same wood as the bed, solid and made with care. On the right-hand side, the side closest to me, sits a small lamp and a vague black shape. A gasp escapes my lips as I reach out for the shape, having to shuffle my ample frame closer to the side of the bed in order to reach it.

"Those look like..." I mutter, stopping as I hear my husky voice.

Finally snagging the small object in my pudgy fingers I bring it up to my large nose and chubby rounded cheeks, my vision rapidly snapping into focus as I look through the thick prescription lenses with my new emerald green eyes.

"Great...just great..." I groan, feeling the lethargy and weight of my new body along with realizing just how blind I was.

My gave continues over to the bedside table on the other side, slowly recognizing the shape of a small pile of books besides an analog clock obscured in the darkness. Beyond the table to my left sits a large oval mirror tilting slightly away from the bed and toward a large space next to the window. My jaw drops as I look outside, the dim light shifting light from outside the window making sense to me as I stare in disbelief.

"Snow" I whisper, my eyes going wide as I see the powder white specks falling outside. "Fucking Snow!" I squeak louder, my breathy husky voice sounding far more effeminate under my control.

Outside rests white-capped pine trees as far as the eye can see, obscuring my vision beyond them. The window itself rattles occasionally, the thick glass rocking in the heavy frame as it is buffeted by the apparently strong winds.

My eyes continue around the room, falling onto a large built-in wardrobe running along the far wall all the way to the door. One of the sliding panels is open slightly ajar, revealing the dark shape of jackets and jumpers that seemed a little too small to be worn based on my memory of Miranda. A hissing breath escapes my lips as I realize I was now the one those clothes wouldn't fit, Mark having undersold how much Miranda had "let herself go".

Moving my gaze further I see a small wicker hamper by the door, a large pair of pink panties hanging out of the side sending a shiver down my spine. Standing next to the hamper, pressed against the wall to the right-hand side of the bed stands a large makeup table. The surface is smattered with an eclectic mix of dark shapes and objects that the light from outside fails to illuminate.

The room itself is a light cream color, with an extremely light gray carpet running around the floor. The render on the walls looks extremely fresh, as if it has been put up within the past few years. The same level of wear and tear also appears applicable to the carpet, with not a single bit of discoloration showing through in the slowly brightening light streaming in through the window.

As the light outside builds and builds with the rising sun I begin to get a better look at my body and the smoldering headset next to me. I was still under the heavy set of blankets covering the bed, the freezing cold environment apparently making them a necessity.

The topmost blanket, the heaviest of the lot, has a pretty floral pattern over a light background to match the rest of the room. At the foot of the bed a stack of additional blankets lay piled up, a supply just in case of emergency dips in temperature.

As I wriggle my way backwards, pressing my back against the cold hard headrest of the bed, I can feel my body jiggle beneath the blankets. I begin to feel tears welling up in my eyes, reality reflecting how I had looked in the virtual world. Peeling back the blanket slowly I let out a gasp of shock, partly due to the sight of what lat beneath but also partly due to the sudden chill of the morning air hitting my sensitive skin.

My mouth hangs agape as I stare down, the blood draining from my face as I'm met with the sight of my bloated new body. The massive breasts that had wobbled like jello in the oversized bra now hang heavily, drooping into a teardrop shape and resting against my swollen stomach. My nipples look far too large from this angle, the thick pink erasers standing at attention in the frigid air.

Stretch marks appear prominently over my new ghostly white skin, my new thick and cellulite riddled thighs and the heavy pouch of fat on my abdomen showing them the most. In my seated position I can see my flabby ass pool out to the sides as I rest atop it, my larger than average hips getting lost in the cushion of my behind.

I feel just so heavy and lethargic I can barely muster the drive to drag myself to the edge of the bed, eventually swinging my flabby legs over the side and sobbing as I find my feet don't even reach the floor.

In the now clear image of the room, thanks in part to the glasses and the growing light from outside, I see something draped over my new makeup table and covering the mirror. With a loud grunt I slowly pull myself to my feet, feeling my body jiggle and wobble as I land heavily onto the floor.

"Fuck...I can't..." I moan in my new husky voice, waddling uncomfortably over to the makeup table.

Everything shakes as I move, my hips swaying heavily from side to side against my will and my bountiful assets shaking in an unwieldy fashion. My thighs rub together constantly, my soft flesh already sore from days and weeks of the continued chaffing prior to me getting here.

Eventually I begin to make out the object, a small pile of dark clothes that the old Miranda must have picked out. Stuck to the top-most item, a black pencil skirt, note.

 

Hey Mira 

Hope you enjoy your first day 

Bacon and eggs are in the fridge, but maybe you should just have an apple ;P 

Toys are in the nightstand you dirty girl

Lots of Love 

The Soon to be Jordan Hughes

Indebted and Swapped - Part Three

"I...fuck...I guess I'll take..." I mutter, trailing off in deep thought.

I had never been one for physical labor, my slim and muscle lacking frame being an obvious sign of that fact. The idea of working a farm, even as a fit and athletic young woman, sounded a little too physical for me especially considering I had no clue how to run a farm of any size. While I'm sure I could learn what I needed to do over time the unknown element terrified me.

The same fear of the unknown ruled out quite a few other people. While I had wanted to visit Japan for the longest time I only meant to go as a tourist, not as some small-town girl who lived there permanently. That drastic a change left me moving away from that prospect of becoming Akiko.

I find myself lingering on Jessica for a long while. "I could maybe get back to normal" I mutter hopefully under my breath. However, I find myself wondering what I'd have to do to stay on her parent's good side. I had no clue what sort of people they were beyond being harsh and dispassionate enough to give their daughter this kind of ultimatum. I couldn't help but shiver at the thought of how domineering those monsters could be, or what they might do to me if I failed to follow their commands.

As my mind drifts to Melody I cringe a little. While the thought of being wealthy sounded fantastic, the same thing being a slight draw to Jessica as well, the thought of giving up over twenty years of my life for it just seemed to steep a price.

My thoughts begin to drift between Penelope and Miranda, the gears slowly grinding as I try to weigh up the two of them. Apparently Penelope was a looker, and a bit younger than myself, but the thought of being trapped in a body that was considered 'uneducated' worried me if I was to be living in a small community. On the other hand there was Miranda the librarian who, while having let herself go a bit, was educated and around my age.

I squirm and fidget in my seat, wracking my brain as I try to come to a decision. I rapidly shift between Jessica, Miranda, and Penelope. The unknown but maybe having a chance to get my body back, the uneducated small-town girl, or the unfit librarian. My train of thought loops and loops, my indecisive nature struggling to make such a big decision.

Suddenly, Mark clears his throat loudly, obviously growing impatient as I delay the decision.

"Miranda" I blurt out, her name being the one at the forefront of my mind as I'm snapped back to reality.

Before I can take it back or clarify my statement Mark clicks his fingers, all bar one of the papers shrinking and phasing out of existence. "Finally" he sighs, leaning on the armrest of his lavish seat. "You can come in now Ms. Winslow" he calls out. The dark doorway behind his desk rapidly shifts around the room, moving unnaturally until it ends on the wall next to my seat.

"Really?" calls out a quiet husky voice from beyond the darkness, the sound of shuffling shoes and the light clicking of heels growing closer.

"Yes, please...just...please be quick" Mark mutters, looking at something behind his desk and searching the drawers again as he begins to get ready for his next appointment.

Looking at the darkened doorway my jaw drops as a short nervous figure emerges from the shadows. She is ghostly pale, her complexion looking like it almost never sees a lick of sunlight. Her eyes, enlarged in the image of her thick prescription glasses, are a deep dark green. Short feathered black hair helps to give her a slight bit of a more professional look as do her clothes, a tight ruffled white dress shirt along with a black pencil skirt and dark pantyhose.

Any sharp definition in her face is lost under a soft doughy layer of fat, her cheeks and chin rounding out with the beginning of a double chin beginning to form. Her nose is rather large, becoming the focal point of her face.

As my eyes drift down I have to fight to keep my jaw from dropping. Her chest, straining against the buttons of the white shirt, is massive. Easily one of the biggest racks I had seen in person, the jiggling roiling flesh on her chest shift like a liquid in the black bra which appears to be doing all it can to keep them from busting out. Her arms too strain at the material of her top, her pudgy upper arms obviously having the tight sleeves of the shirt dig into them.

My eyes continue to drift down as he approaches, a grin growing on her face with each clicking step. Her belly shakes with her movements, the distended fatty tummy shifting along with her other generous assets. Her hips, being squeezed by the skirt, match her buxom appearance and sway heavily with each mincing step. Her thighs, though hidden in the skirt, appear to be in line with the rest of her form as they pres the seams in the fabric to their limit as well.

Her legs, encased in dark sheer pantyhose, taper down to soft calves and a small pair of heels which give her some much-needed additional height.

"I...uh...I meant Penelope...Slip of the..." I exclaim, trailing off as the short extremely plump woman reaches my seat.

"Shut up" squeaks Miranda, a look of frustration growing in place of the smirk. "Shut up, you...you chose this...You're the one that...that couldn't make it as a...as a" she grumbles, her tone growing in anger until she finally makes her move.

"I'm meant to be you!" she cries, lunging forwards. In a sudden motion she hurls herself at me. I close my eyes and brace for impact, however none comes. Tentatively I open my eyes again, my face growing pales as I'm met with the sight of Miranda sinking into my seated form head first. I begin to writhe in my seat, watching her shoulders and arms slowly disappear inside of me.

"What the fuck...What is she.." I begin to shriek before being cut off.

"I'm just...urgh..making myself at...at home" Miranda says, her voice coming out of my mouth.

I groan as I feel a pressure building inside of me, Miranda's bloated body pressing against me from the inside. I can feel her shifting around, her wide hips sliding into my torso as I feel her begin to claw her way upwards.

"There it is" she chirps with my mouth, a sense of sudden and intense dread hitting me as I feel a dull throbbing in my skull. "No dominance? No drive to win?...what sort of man were you?" she mutters, the pressure in my head growing until finally I feel something snap into place. "There we go, oh that's freeing" Miranda coos, her thighs sinking into me as I find myself pinned in place.

"What...um...what did you...do" I mutter, my heart pounding as I ask the question.

"Just getting rid of some mental baggage, if I can't take any dominant traits I can sure as hell get rid of some of my...meek ones" she explains. The pressure in my head begins to build again before suddenly I feel something break, a dull empty feeling forming in my head like a vacuum.

"I'll need that...your film degree I mean...If I'm going to teach it...and you can have my....Literature and Library qualifications...and enjoy some...stuff for work" she chuckles, the void in my head suddenly being filled with something intangible.

"Mark! Make her...make her stop...please" I whimper weakly, watching as the last of her plump form slides inside of my own.

"She's just disposing of her property as she sees fit, happens all the time" Mark says nonchalantly, still searching the desk for the files for his next appointment.

"Oh here. We. Are" chuckles Miranda, her husky voice beginning to sound more and more like my own by the second. "I think I'll take that heterosexuality of yours, I'm sure I'll be able to give women what they want. Don't worry, you can have mine in return" she explains with a chuckle, a sudden series of pops inside my skull letting me know she wasn't kidding.

"Now these are fun..." she mutters, trailing off. "I don't want these...Fantasies? Proclivities? I'm sure if I still had my degree I'd be able to think of the word" she says, laughing out loud as I begin to grow nauseated from the pounding in my head.

I wince loudly, groaning in discomfort as I feel Miranda's heavy body move around inside me. Her arms slide down from my head, coming to rest in place inside my own lanky limbs. I can see my body distending a little as it struggles to contain the digital form of Miranda, her bust and hips appearing through my own avatar for a few seconds before disappearing again.

Suddenly I hear my voice let out a sigh of relief, my own arms slowly pulling me out of the chair against my will.

"This feels wonderful...shit I'm...I'm so tall" my voice mutters, grinning widely as I'm forced to look down. "No boobs blocking my vision, no stomach weighing me down, no hips and ass to bump things. Fuck I feel...well kind of full, must have eaten something fatty"

"What the..." I begin to squeal, hearing the husky tone of Miranda's voice replacing my own.

My body begins to walk towards the doorway, pausing in front of it as I feel an intense pressure begin to build behind me. Before I can work out what is happening I find myself stumbling forward, my body jiggling like jello as I struggle to stand on the heels I suddenly find myself in.

"Much better" my body sighs, patting his stomach as I look up at him in shock.

"You...you made me...me..." I stammer weakly, my lip quivering as my eyes begin to water.

"That's right, I made you...well, you Miranda" my body chuckles. "You didn't deserve a body like this, but me...I worked hard, did my best, and wound up shelving books in the middle of nowhere. That wouldn't have happened if I was one of the boys" she hisses, her eyes slowly dropping down to my chest as tears begin to roll down my chubby cheeks.

A grin on my former lips grows as Miranda reaches into my jeans. "Ha, what a monster...can't wait to get this thing home and..." she pauses, trailing off as she continues to look at my swollen chest. In a swift motion she reaches out, grabbing between the buttons on my shirt and tugging it open as the buttons pop off.

I squeal loudly in shock, my weeping growing louder as the bottom of my vision is filled with a milky white sea of jiggling flesh overflowing the cups of my virtual bra.

"For the spank bank" Miranda notes crudely, turning back to Mark. "Are we done here?" she asks, "Or at least is she done here?"

Mark looks up at us, causing me to frantically try to cover my chest as a strange tingle begins to grow between my thighs at the sudden sexual embarrassment. "Oh, yeah she can leave. We still need to finish up the bank transfer Mr. Hughes" Mark states, his eyes locked to my chest.

I open my mouth to say something, still responding to my name. However, before I can get a word out Miranda places my old hands on my shoulders. "It was lovely to meet you Miranda enjoy your first day of work" she taunts before giving me a strong push, sending me tumbling into the shadowy doorway.

The office rapidly flies further and further away as I feel myself falling further and further away, the smirking figure of my body slowly becoming a speck in the distance. As I fall a robotic tone rings out in my ear.

"Exiting Virtual Terrain Bounds. Shutting Down" the synthesized voice drones, my heart hammering in my chest as I feel the subtle tingle of the headset slowly relinquishing control over my hijacked brain. As I begin to grow numb I'm hit with a strange smell, a mixture of melting plastic and burnt hair. The numbness builds and builds, leaving me floating in darkness without any sense of my body for a few minutes.

Suddenly, without any warning, I feel myself falling again. The rapid descent lasting only a moment before suddenly ceasing as I find myself laying on something soft in a completely disoriented state.

Indebted and Swapped - Part Two

"How...how many do I get to choose from?" I ask anxiously, worrying about this whole endeavor.

"Oh well that's simple Mr. Hughes" Mark chirps merrily. "You'll get to pick from six profiles. Though you received far more offers than just these six I can assure you"

"More?" I mutter in disbelief.

"Hey, you're relatively young, in good health, and a man. I mean you're in a bit of a rough patch but most people can look past that to the golden opportunity you represent Mr. Hughes" Mark interjects, his tone oozing with his salesman charms.

"I...huh..." I murmur, still wrapping my head around the whole thing. "So...who did you pick?"

"A fantastic question" Mark exclaims, still fishing around in the digital desk for some lost item. "We had a whole team looking over the applications, we've picked nothing but the best for you" he declares confidently, freezing up as he opens one of the desks many drawers. "There they are" he grins, hastily snatching an extremely small set of rigid paper from within.

Mark places the straightened white sheets on top of the desk, evening them out so they all line up perfectly. Suddenly the sheets of paper rise up, floating between the two of us as Mark quickly scans over the paper.

"Alright, let's begin" Mark says, cracking his knuckles before leaning back in his chair.

"Okay so we have here... Miranda Winslow, Penelope Star, Akiko Sato, Caroline Sawyer, Jessica Cummings, and Melody Conners" Mark exclaims, his eyes briefly looking at each of the pages before moving on between each name.

"They're all..." I begin to squeak before getting cut off by Mark.

"Women, that's right. You were quite popular and the team apparently decided these women should be given the chance at being you" he explains with a nod. "So, who would you like to start with?"

I pause for a minute as I contemplate my position. I could hardly believe what I was about to do, to give up myself so that some strange woman could take over. However, it was the easiest way out and I was already this far in.

"Let's start with Miranda I guess" I say in a defeated tone, my shoulders slumping forwards as I sink into the uncomfortable wooden seat.

"Wonderful" Mark chimes, tapping the far left paper and causing it o float towards him.

Miranda is...Twenty-Seven, just a month old than you, and is gainfully employed, unlike you" he says with a chuckle, obviously enjoying the distinction. "She lives in a small town called...Adrian Creek. It's a rather small community, but I hear it's lovely this time of year" Mark explains, looking between me and the paper.

"What does she do?" I ask, my voice wavering as the fear of becoming someone else grips me.

"She's a librarian at the town's local library. That sounds nice right? You said you liked books in our first interview" Mark asks, knowing that I was a bit of a reader. "And she has a higher education as well" he claims, leaving out the fact that it was just a degree in literature and a short course in library systems.

"She rents a house on the outskirts of the business center of town, a nice freshly renovated cottage perfectly situated between the pine forests and the local..." Mark pitches, getting cut off by me as I ask another question.

"Why does she want to be...me? What's wrong with...um..." I pipe up, trailing off as I worry about being too harsh.

"Who says there's anything wrong about her?" Mark says with a shrug. He quickly rereads the paper, glancing at my unconvinced face before sighing. "She wants to be more respected and feels she can do that better as a man...That...And she is a little...Well she has let herself go a little since starting college and moving to Adrian's Creek" Mark explains, trying to mute and ease any negatives in the sales pitch.

"She's single, no kids, you'd have all the time in the world to settle in. And her...bodily assets are very generous" Mark continues, trying to make the sale. "Settling into the quiet life, all that time to read and relax in your cozy job and home as well as some explor...".

"I...uh...can we come back to...um..." I stammer, cutting him short as I begin to feel the pressure from the salesman across from me.

Mark seems to miss a beat as I ask to move on, pausing as he collects himself. "Of course, we have so many more to look at" he replies, a grin spreading across his lips as he sends Miranda's paper back before summoning the next one in the row.

"Here we have one...Penelope Star, she's twenty-one, and is...also employed" Mark says with a slight chuckle, finding it humorous how many of these people had work while I had been unemployed for months. "She lives in an old cabin that was passed down to her by her...aunt? great aunt? Doesn't matter, all that matters is that she owns this cabin outright in the rather large coastal town of Keyes Point" Mark continues, squinting at the handwritten virtual form as he tries to decipher the handwriting.

"Twenty-One? Homeowner? Why does she want to be me?" I ask in confusion, struggling to get a grasp on what her deal was.

"Well...let's see...It just says that she was urged into doing this" Mark explains, tilting his head to the side and shrugging his shoulders as the paperwork lacked the real explanation. Penelope had been paid by my mother to offer herself for the swap, becoming a pawn in her retirement plans. "I suppose she is a little uneducated" he continues, underplaying the fact she dropped out of high school.

"She is in a committed relationship to an long-term boyfriend, so you would need to navigate that. But aside from that hiccup you'd be free to continue her life as a 'free-spirit' as she described" he says, trying to up-sell her otherwise empty life as freeing.

"Can I hear about..." I begin to ask, wanting to see the next one.

"She's cute as a button too, a real catch in the community and...and...alright" Mark interjects, trying to finish the sale but recognizing from my unmoving face it was time to move on.

As Mark reads the next form a smirk appears across his lips. "You said you liked anime yeah? You mentioned you wanted to visit Japan in the past right?" he asks pointedly, bringing up facts from our long conversation in the initial interview.

"Yeah I..." I begin to reply before he quickly cuts me short.

"Well why not Akiko Sato? She's an exchange student here, finished high school around a month ago" Mark asks, leaning in a little. "She's from Japan, so you'd be free to go back and explore to your hearts content" he claims, leaving out the part about being from a poor fishing village.

"Ja...Japan? I would live in another country? Speak another language?" I mutter quizzically, my heart racing in my virtual chest as I imagine no longer living in the country that had been my home my whole life.

"Well you'd be from there, but she currently lives here" Mark clarifies, again leaving out facts as he fails to explain that she is set to return any day now.

"From what I heard from the other staff she is a knock out, that could be you. And her family are business owners" he hastily continues, twisting the facts around her families small restaurant in an effort to make it sound more grandiose.

"But I'd be..." I mutter, trailing off out of nervousness.

"In another country? If you don't like it then just come back for college" Mark smugly answers, unsure if Akiko would ever reasonably be able to leave her small village.

"I...I need a minute to think about...uh...this" I exclaim, my palms sweating as I wring my hands together.

"Alright, alright. Let's move on, you can always come back to these later" Mark say reassuringly as he swaps out the papers in front of him.

"So here we have Caroline Sawyer" Mark chimes, reading the head of the document and quickly scanning through it. "Nineteen, lives and partially runs her family farm, and just finished her schooling" Mark states, again twisting the truth a little as he brushes aside her flunking out of school as simply finishing it.

"Why is she wanting to become...me" I meekly ask, staring up at Mark in his elevated position.

"Apparently...She wants to find a new life where she can be more of an intellectual" Mark states, trying to avoid any discussion of her own intellectual difficulties or the expectations on her to 'milk cows, get married, and pump out youngins'.

"You'd be extremely fit, very athletic" Mark continues, eyeing up my slim build and its lack of defined muscles. "Part of the hard work you'd be doing on the farm"

"What about her...uh...relations?" I ask, trying to get an idea about her home life.

"Her father died a while back, and her mother is slowly retreating from running the farm so Caroline can take over. She is single currently, but has quite a few suitors around town and the surrounding farms" Mark explains with a grin. "You'd be quite popular amongst the local farmhands and cowgirls" she says with a chuckle, hoping that the allusion to Caroline's slight Bi leaning may tip the scales.

My face grows red as he brings up suitors. Having been single for quite a while the thought of being wanted and desired sounded like a fairly nice draw.

"I...Can we talk about the last two before I make any choices" I ask, curious if he had left the best for last.

"Next we have..." Mark begins to exclaim, pausing as the papers swap around. A sudden laugh croaks out from the otherwise calmer salesman as he reads the name, though he quickly recovers. "Jessica Cummings" he finally manages to blurt out, his lips curved into a subtle smile at the name.

I too can't help but smirk at the unfortunate last new, though it sounds somewhat familiar.

"She is nineteen, a college student, and while she is unemployed her parents seem more than willing to pay for her upkeep" Mark states as he reads the page. "Blonde, curvy, tall, she's a regular picture of privilege" he continues under his breath, scoffing at her description.

"Why the hell is she wanting to do this then?" I ask, immensely confused at why she'd want to be me.

"Oh that's simple, she doesn't want to, her parents apparently gave her an ultimatum. Either swap and make something of yourself, or be cut off from the family money" Mark explains. "I guess she feels it'll be easier to improve someone like you who is momentarily down on their luck than someone else" he continues, leaving out that it was her parent's who had chosen me for personal reasons.

"So I'd just..." I mutter, trailing off as I leave the sentence incomplete for Mark to fill in.

"You'd just have to live her life, go to college and keep her parent's happy. You may even get back to your body eventually if she does well enough in it. Her parent's a quite wealthy and could easily afford to pay for our services again" Mark chuckles, clarifying what my role would be as the new Jessica. "Though that'd include keeping up appearances, high end fashion, constant hair and nail appointments, you'd need to look the part of their vain daughter as far as I can tell" he says a little unsurely, wondering if her parent's would really want another copy of their disappointing daughter's lifestyle.

"That sounds...can I hear about the last one before I make any decisions?" I ask, my mind already leaning towards some of the options.

"Of course, lastly we have..." Mark chirps, this time trailing off as he turns a little flushed while he reads the name.

"Melody Connors, retiree but quite wealthy at fifty-four years old" Mark says with a cough, clearing his throat after choking up thanks to recognizing the name. "She lives in a very large suburban home with her youngest daughter, twenty-one, and still looks after her while she goes to college" Mark describes, trying to paint this woman's home life in a positive light.

"Fifty!? I'd be doubling my god damn age!" I shout in shock, reeling at the thought of that sort of jump.

"And you'd never have to work another day in your life. As I said she is quite well off, would you rather spend your next twenty years working or just enjoy the fruits of that labor now?" Mark asks rhetorically, trying to assuage my worries.

"She's looking at starting over, this time as a man after experiencing...life as an attractive woman" Mark explains, tastefully skirting around her past as a world famous porn star while also implying that I could be this attractive woman.

"What about her...um..." I begin to ask, my cheeks turning red as I try to ask about her partner.

"No husband, they got divorced nearly a decade ago. Though that doesn't mean she isn't down to...You know they say women sexually mature later in life and..." Mark begins to prattle on, causing me to cut him off.

"Okay okay I get it. She's just..." I begin to groan, getting cut off in term by Mark.

"Wealthy? Attractive? Free to do as she pleases?" he asks in a rhetorical fashion yet again.

There is a moment of silence as the questions hang in the air, my thoughts racing before being snapped back to reality by Mark as he clears his throat.

"Alright Mr Hughes, time to choose. Would you like to hear about any of the women again before making your decision?" he asks, waving his hands as the papers fall back onto the desk.

"I...no but...uh...I'm still not sure" I stammer nervously, wracking my brain as I try to make a decision.

"Take your time...well not too much time, I do have other appointments" Mark chuckles, taping his wrist as a subtle way to imply that time was of the essence. "Besides, I'm sure they all want to get into their new skin as soon as possible. It would be fairly rude to keep your future self waiting too long"

My stomach sinks, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my head. "I can't believe I'm..." I whisper under my breath, my eyes darting around the room in search for an answer.

"I...fuck...I guess I'll take..."

Indebted and Swapped - Part One

As I lay back on my head I can feel the cold sweat run down my neck. My vision is partially blocked from the rays of the early rising sun by the visor of my VR headset, the NeuroNet. I had gotten this thing ages ago, and for all intents and purposes it was old tech, but it still served its purpose.

This specific brand of virtual reality had been around for ages. Rather than monitoring the user's motions and displaying things on a screen, it interfaced directly with the user's brain. It utilized a proprietary technology to hijack the user's brain, blocking it from moving the body and converting it into a model in virtual space. However, due to this interfacing and recreation, there had been problems with older models where it was discovered that the user's mind as a whole could be carved out and uploaded to other places. This left the empty vessel to slowly die unless another mind was placed into the mindless shell.

Protections had been put in place to stop this, and the process typically burnt out the units and harshly reduced their functionality, but that didn't stop those who really wanted to from finding ways to organize such a procedure.

With a sigh I begin to boot up the system, remembering what had set me on this path. Several months ago I had been laid off from my college teaching job due to severe budget cuts. Rather than look for any sort of work I decided to stick to my academic field, and sadly had yet to find anything. Rapidly burning through my savings I started racking up credit card debt until it all became too much.

In my search for how to fix my situation I found a group called the Swap Agency, a VR group that claimed they could solve all of one's debts. On the verge of eviction, no job prospects, and with debt growing ever more concerning I contacted them and set up a meeting.

It took place in Virtual Reality, untraceable and discrete. The room had looked like a small office, a well-dressed gentleman going by the name "Mark" had listened intently to my story. At the end of our meeting he told me that they could fix my problem for only one small cost, my body and life. He explained that they would offer the chance to be me, and all that entailed, to those who could find the service. They would pay enough to cover my debts and the Agency's fees, and in return they would get to keep my body and life from here on out. While I was disgusted and freaked out at the thought of someone else becoming me I couldn't shake the thought that it was my only option. Reluctantly I accepted his offer and allowed the Swap Agency to create their advert for "Me".

I had spent the past month living frugally, a reminder of why I needed this. Whenever I waived on if I made the right choice another bill would arrive and remind me why I had signed up for this in the first place.

"How much worse could a new life be?" I'd mutter to myself each night before bed, the dread of another overdue bill keeping me up at night.

Today however was the end of that month, the time of my second and most likely final appointment with the Swap Agency. As I lay back on my kingsized bed with the headset on my head I feel the sensations of pins and needles in my scalp as the NeruoNet begins to interface with my brain. My breath grows heavy and labored, the fear of what I was about to do growing in me as I slowly lose more and more sensation in my body.

Finally, there is a flash of bright light before I suddenly find myself in the same small office from my first interview.

The room is perfectly compact, fitting two chairs and a desk in an otherwise useless simulacrum of a normal office. The room is painted entirely white, the lighting making it difficult to see the corners of the enclosed walls. The client chair I am sitting in is a basic wooden chair, while the seat behind the large black desk appears far larger and with much more luxurious leather padding.

Before I can think about the room much longer Mark appears through a darkened doorway directly behind his chairs. With a warm smile on his face he walks through the chair, not having enough space to walk around it, before sitting in the executive seat.

"Well Mr. Hughes welcome back, I take it your month went well?" he asks, pulling out drawer after drawer in the desk as he searches for something.

"I...yeah...I mean no it was...kinda rough" I mutter nervously, looking up at the weaselly-looking man with slicked-back hair.

"Well, it's all going to be better soon. We had a great week here, I mean a Great week thanks to your advert. The teams have been busy going through offers and finding the cream of the crop so to speak. I promise you'll be happy with these which ever you chose" he prattle on, his voice sounding more and more like a salesman each and every second.

"Choose?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

"Well of course, we want you to be happy with the body you get in the end" Mark replies, clasping his hands together as he tries to sound compassionate. "We've had a large number of offers for your body, each giving more than enough to pay down the debts and cover our small fee, and while we've cut the wheat from the chaff the final decision will be yours"

We sit in silence for a moment after Mark's statement, the implication slowly sinking to my head. Everything feels kind of fuzzy as I process things, like my mind was butter spread over too much bread. However, suddenly I'm met with clarity again in a matter of moments.

"How...how many do I get to choose from?" I ask anxiously, worrying about this whole endeavor.

"Oh well that's simple Mr. Hughes" Mark chirps merrily. "You'll get to pick from...