Sabrina Has Questions The New World of SwapTech chapter 4 by swapticon

Eli backed away from the mirror like it might explode. Sabrina’s—his—reflection followed, all smolder and sass even without trying. Every little movement made him jiggle, which was… distracting. Also? His thighs rubbed together in a way that was wildly unfamiliar.

“Focus,” he muttered, tugging at the hem of the crop top as if it’d suddenly turn into a lab coat. “You’re a scientist. You’re not a creep. You're just temporarily occupying a classmate’s objectively bombshell-level body, for… data.”

He reached for his webcam again, fumbling a bit when his new hair got caught in the headset strap.

“Log Entry,” he said into the mic, clearing Sabrina’s throat. “Subject has undergone a full-body identity transference event. Initial inspection suggests high-fidelity replication of target’s physical form, down to minor dermatological features. No indication of dissociative symptoms or memory bleed. Motor control at 85%, speech fidelity at 92%—”

He paused.

His hand was drifting again. Absently, slowly, it slid across the curve of his borrowed hip, over to the waistband of the tiny sleep shorts he was apparently wearing.

He blinked. “Focus, Vance.”

But the body had its own ideas. Or maybe the hormones did. Sabrina's body felt good. Like, good in a way that made his knees want to touch involuntarily.

And then—

Ding.

His laptop chimed. A notification. Incoming video call.

He yelped and scrambled, nearly tripping over his own feet again. Legs too long. Center of gravity way too high. He crashed onto the bed, boobs bouncing in full 1080p.

The laptop screen blinked. Incoming call… from Sabrina Cross.

“Oh no no no no—”

He clicked Accept before he could think, driven by panic more than logic.

Sabrina’s face filled the screen. His face. Pale, bony, hoodie-clad Eli was staring back at him from a cluttered girly room.

“Eli Vance,” Sabrina said, her voice now a dry, flat baritone. “What the fuck did you do?”

Eli just stared. Wide-eyed. His mouth opened, but only a squeak came out. The absurdity of hearing Sabrina’s body make that noise almost broke him.

“I—uh—I can explain,” he stammered.

“Start talking, Science Boy,” Sabrina said, crossing his arms. “Because I woke up in your creepy-ass body, and I’m not having a good morning.”

Eli gulped. “It was… supposed to be a test run. With a blank vessel. Not, um. You.”

Sabrina’s face turned to a smirk that was very Eli. “Oh, so I’m just a bug in the system?”

“I mean—technically you’re the subjective consciousness map that accidentally replaced the test profile when—”

“English, Doogie Howser.”

“I clicked the wrong file.”

She leaned in close to the webcam. “Fix it. Now.”

Eli swallowed hard. “I… might need a couple hours to recalibrate the oscillator and dump the memory cache. But I can fix it. I think. Probably.”

Sabrina’s eyes narrowed. “I swear, Vance, if you so much as look at my tits wrong while you’re in there, I will snap your original body’s dick off like a Kit Kat bar.”

Eli sat up straighter, wincing. “Copy that. Hands where you can see them.”

“I can see them. You’re broadcasting,” she said, dryly, then sighed. “Okay. Here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m staying put. You fix your science-y nightmare, and we switch back before lunch. If anyone at school sees me in your sad little hoodie? I end you.”

“Deal,” Eli said quickly.

“Oh—and one more thing.”

She leaned even closer to the screen, lowering her voice.

“If you do touch yourself in my body,” she said, tone suddenly teasing, “do it right. I’ve got standards.”

And with that, she ended the call.

Eli stared at the blank screen.

Then down at his—her—body.

Then back at the screen.

“…Data collection resuming in five,” he muttered. “For science.”