Power Girl The New World of SwapTech chapter 4 by bodyswapbabe

Jonas woke up to the sensation of pressure—not on his chest, but from it. Two enormous mounds of flesh tugged downward, barely contained by a skin-tight white suit that felt like a latex glove stretched over an overinflated balloon.

And below that?

Thick, muscular thighs. Hips that swayed even when he just shifted his weight. Arms like a gym influencer. A waist so pinched it looked Photoshopped, curving up into—he looked down again, mouth dry—those.

“What the hell,” he muttered aloud, and the voice that came out was wrong. Sultry, confident, deeper than he expected for a woman but undeniably female—with a smoky edge, like she'd just laughed at a villain mid-punch.

The SwapPort pod clicked open with a hiss. A full-length mirror slid into view ahead of him. Staring back was a six-foot bombshell in red boots, a crimson cape fluttering slightly in the recycled air, and a snug white leotard with a massive boob window cut right over her chest. Her blonde hair was thick, wavy, and somehow already styled perfectly, framing piercing blue eyes and a smirk that didn’t feel like his—but was.

His hands moved automatically, cupping the boobs like they weren’t real. They jiggled in his grip. He blinked, flushed. “Holy hell,” he breathed.

A small digital voice chirped from a panel near the mirror:

“Welcome, guest. You are currently inhabiting: Power Girl – Premium Replica Body. All enhanced features have been activated for immersive realism. You are now entering the convention show floor.”

The floor beneath him began to lower.

“Wait, replica body? This isn’t a premium, I thought I—” But the words trailed off as he caught his reflection again. His jaw—her jaw—tightened. Even just standing, she had posture like a brick wall. Shoulders back. Chest out. Thighs flexed with the tiniest movement.

Jonas knew Power Girl. Not just knew—he'd written flame posts about her being over-sexualized and misunderstood. She was Kal-El’s cousin, she was one of the strongest beings on Earth-2, she punched holes in dimensional barriers. But also… he’d jerked off to her more times than he could count.

And now he was her.

He felt a flush of excitement—and something else, too. A creeping unease he refused to name.

As the platform reached floor level and the bright chaos of the convention filled his vision—cosplayers, camera flashes, fanboys shouting—it was clear he wasn’t just another nerd in a basement anymore.