Rory's a Lady The New World of SwapTech chapter 5 by bodyswapbabe

The transition was gentle—no tumbling sensation, no vertigo, no flashing lights. Just a long moment of weightlessness and warmth… and then Fitz opened his eyes.

Cool air brushed his cheeks. He blinked up at a wooden ceiling, soft and warmly lit, and slowly sat up in a body that felt… mostly familiar. The same height. Similar shape. But not his.

His hands were the first thing he noticed: broader than his own, the knuckles slightly more pronounced. A faint dusting of freckles ran along the forearms, and his usual wrist mole was missing. He flexed his fingers once, twice. Everything moved smoothly.

“Alright,” he murmured. “We’re here.”

Next to him, a shriek.

Fitz spun to see a tall, statuesque woman sitting bolt upright in the next pod. Voluminous auburn hair spilled over her bare shoulders, and a pair of wide, panicked hazel eyes stared back at him.

“DAD! DAD! SOMETHING WENT WRONG!” The face was unfamiliar, but Fitz recognized the cadence of his son Rory.

Fitz’s stomach dropped. “Oh God.”

Miriam’s pod hissed open on the other side. She sat up with a yawn, then froze at the sight of the gorgeous adult woman flailing in panic. “Is that—?”

“IT’S ME! RORY!!” Rory cried. He grabbed at the unfamiliar mounds on his chest and let out a horrified gasp.

Nolan emerged next, blinking blearily. He took one look at Rory and burst into giggles.

“Oh my God,” he wheezed. “You’re a lady.”

“I’M A GIRLLLL!” Rory wailed.

Miriam was already on her feet, moving toward him with calm, practiced mom-energy. “Hey, hey. Rory, breathe. You’re okay. This is just a mistake.”

“It’s so weird! I feel... squishy!” Rory hugged himself, pouting.

Fitz was already at the control panel on the wall, punching the HELP button. A chime sounded, and within a minute, a portly man in a Swaptyx blazer stepped briskly into the room.

“Hi there! Everything alright with your transfer?”

“No,” Fitz said flatly, gesturing toward his son, who was currently trying to hide behind Miriam’s legs (not realizing he was far too large for that). “That is my seven-year-old.”

The manager blinked, looked at Rory, then back at his tablet. “Ah. Ah. I see. Yes, we had a minor routing error in Subnet G. Some kind of cross-assignment glitch.”

“Can you fix it?” Fitz asked.

“Absolutely,” the manager said. “We can reassign your son’s consciousness into the correct host body as soon as it clears the memory buffer. Shouldn’t take more than a couple hours.”

Fitz sighed with relief. “Alright, then let’s just wait here—”

“But Daaaad,” Rory groaned. “I don’t wanna wait two hours. That’s, like, a thousand years in vacation time!”

“He’s got a point,” Nolan chimed in, tapping at the laminated map Fitz had brought. “The dragon ride line’s gonna fill up by noon.”

Miriam crouched beside Rory, brushing the red hair from his face. “Honey, are you okay enough to go for now? We’ll fix it after lunch.”

Rory bit his lip, then gave a reluctant nod. “As long as I don’t have to go pee in this body.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Miriam said soothingly.

Fitz still hesitated. “I just… this is so inappropriate.” His eyes flicked toward Rory’s host body—curvy, sun-kissed, wearing an adult’s cropped tee and cutoffs—and he immediately looked away. “There has to be a policy against kids in adult—”

“We’ve logged the mismatch and flagged the account for override,” the manager interrupted smoothly. “And we’ll comp your rental car for the day. Sincerely sorry for the mix-up.”

Miriam turned to Fitz and gave him a soft smile. “Come on, hon. Let’s not lose the whole morning. He’s handling it, you’re handling it, and we can get it fixed tonight.”

Fitz looked at Rory again—still sulking, but also waiting anxiously to see if he would miss out on the park too. Then he looked at Nolan, practically vibrating with anticipation, map clutched in his hand.

“…Fine,” Fitz muttered. “But we are coming back before dinner.”

"Yes!!" the boys shouted, jumping up and down. Rory jiggled significantly more than usual as he jumped with glee.

Miriam kissed his cheek. “Look at that. You're still the best dad.”

They moved to the lockers and retrieved their gear. Fitz tried not to watch as Rory struggled with his wristband, the child-sized band practically cutting into his now adult-sized wrist.

Outside, the air was warmer—dry heat, with the scent of saltwater and kettle corn in the wind. They stepped into the rental kiosk next door, where a teenager in a green Swaptyx polo handed Fitz a keycard for a compact electric SUV.

“This one’s good for twelve hours on a charge,” the teen said. “And it’s synced to your wristband, so just wave it to start.”

The vehicle hummed to life like a sleeping cat. Rory sat stiffly in the backseat, arms crossed tight across his chest; the seatbelt cutting between his breasts only making them more prominent. Nolan sat next to him, still giggling. Miriam leaned back in the passenger seat and sighed.

The drive was short—Fantastialand Resort rose on the horizon like a candy-colored fever dream. A giant rotating ferris wheel loomed against the blue sky, half-submerged in a faux lagoon. Roller coasters traced bright streaks in the distance, and a brass band in pirate garb marched along the welcome promenade, music barely audible through the closed windows.

Rory perked up, just a little, when he saw the dragon ride loop over the parking lot. “WE’RE HERE! WE’RE HERE!!” He shrilly cried in a grown woman's voice.

“Volume!” Fitz hissed.

Nolan laughed. Miriam beamed.