Sizing Up the Competition The New World of SwapTech chapter 6 by deleted_user

The van pulled away, and Devin was left standing at the edge of a long, manicured stone path leading up to the mansion. The building was huge and white, with giant pillars, fake ivy, and a tacky gold trim along the windows. The sun was hot, and his legs were already sweating inside his heels.

He adjusted his red dress, popped a hip, and walked forward, his heels tapping on the stone with every step. His tits bounced naturally with each movement, and the dress clung to his curves like it had been spray-painted on. The Swaptyx body held up under pressure. Heads were going to turn.

The front lawn was dotted with palm trees and lawn furniture. A few production assistants hung back near the hedges, earpieces in, trying to look invisible. Near the entrance of the house, five women were already mingling.

Devin smiled and walked toward them.

Time to assess the competition.

White, short—maybe 5’2”, even in wedges—with thick thighs and an aggressively perky energy. She wore a baby-pink romper that barely covered her ass and had bubble-blonde hair in high pigtails. Spray-tan orange, with huge fake lashes and lips plumped past natural. A squeaky, nasal voice that made her sound like she was always mid-complaint.

“Oh my godddd it’s SO hot,” she said loudly to no one. “Like, my extensions are melting.”

She turned as Devin approached.

“Hi! You’re so pretty. I’m Kenzie! Are you like, a pageant girl or an influencer or something?”

Devin smiled and put on the softest, most breathy voice he could fake. “No, just a girl from Vegas. Madison.”

“Oh my god, I love your boobs.”

Devin almost laughed. “Thanks. I… grew them myself.”

Kenzie giggled. "I paid for mine. You're sooooo lucky!"

Assessment: Not a threat. Too loud. Will probably drink too much and cry about her ex by week two.

Black, 6’0” in flats, and built like a track star. Long black braids down her back, dark skin, killer cheekbones, no visible body fat. Her one-shoulder dress was a deep forest green, snug over her flat chest and muscular thighs. She stood with her arms crossed, watching everyone like they were under inspection.

She didn’t speak when Devin walked up—just gave a slight nod. Her eyes were sharp and unreadable.

DEVIN: “Tamika’s the one to watch. She’s got that silent type thing going on, which usually means she’s smart. Maybe even smarter than me. Either I get her on my side, or I make sure she goes home early.”

Mixed-race—light brown skin, hazel eyes, big curls pinned half-up—and maybe the prettiest one here. Slender but curvy, with long arms and a naturally sexy walk. Her yellow dress had a deep plunge and thin spaghetti straps, and her voice was low and flirty, with a soft Cali-girl drawl.

She was sipping sparkling water from a wine glass and already leaning into one of the cameramen’s personal space.

“Heyyy,” she purred as Devin walked up. “Cute dress. Red’s dangerous, babe.”

“Dangerous?” Devin smiled.

“It screams ‘I’m here to steal your man.’” She winked. “Respect.”

Assessment: Major threat. Hot, confident, good with attention. Will either be competition or collateral.

White, average height, strawberry blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Freckles. Small chest, thick lower body, and a tight blue workout dress like she came straight from Pilates. No makeup—just lip balm and attitude. She was mid-rant already.

“I just think it’s toxic,” she said. “They cast girls for drama instead of compatibility. Like, do they want someone to get their hair pulled?”

Kenzie nodded with big, dumb energy. “Oh my god, for sure. They’re like, always setting us up to fail.”

Devin stepped in. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

Rachel gave him a once-over. “No, I’m just not stupid.”

Assessment: Wild card. Not hot enough to be a threat, not dumb enough to dismiss. Probably here to make a point. Could be useful.

Latina, short and stacked—huge tits in a skintight corset top, micro-mini skirt, thigh-high boots in 90-degree heat. Deep red lips, sharp eyebrows, gold hoop earrings. She talked fast, laughed hard, and tossed her hair like it owed her money.

“You know they’re gonna make us do something humiliating the second we get in,” she was saying to Bella. “Like a ‘wifey test’ or some shit. Bet money.”

When Devin walked up, Daniella gave him a once-over and smirked.

“Nice boobs, bitch,” she said. “You’re definitely making it to episode three.”

“Thanks,” Devin said sweetly. “I was gonna say the same to you.”

Daniella snorted. “You fake as hell. I love it.”

Assessment: Dangerous. Smart enough to catch on. Bold enough to say shit. But maybe too loud for Brody’s taste. Could be a powerful ally—or a deadly rival.

For now, Devin smiled, laughed at someone’s dumb joke, adjusted his tits, and played the sweet girl from Vegas. Nothing to see here. Just another hot girl in a dress.

But inside, he was calculating every angle.