Shit Happens The New World of SwapTech chapter 10 by bodyswapbabe

The zipper refused to budge.

His arms flailed behind him, fingers scrambling up the smooth stretch of fabric between his shoulder blades. He could feel the seam—but it wouldn’t move. It was wedged, stubborn, maybe caught on the cape. Or the curve of her stupid, bouncing, overstuffed boobs. Or maybe the universe just hated him.

He bent forward. Twisted. Yanked.

Nothing.

Meanwhile, his guts made another noise—something between a death rattle and a blender trying to chew gravel.

“No, no no no no—”

He could feel it now. The inevitable. The unstoppable. A wave of cramping heat built inside him, pushing downward like a freight train without brakes. His thighs squeezed together. His ass clenched so tight he thought he might snap the fabric just by trying.

One last desperate yank—

Too late.

The moment he gasped, it happened.

SPRRRRRRLLLLLLLLLRTCHHHHH.

A hot, wet explosion detonated in his suit. Jonas froze. Eyes wide. Mouth open. Knees trembling. He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe.

The feeling was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was scalding. Mushy. Absolutely horrifying. It filled the space between him and the spandex like hot sludge in a Ziploc bag. And it just. Kept. Coming.

BLORTCH. GLLLLRRRRTCHHHH.

His face contorted in pure shame.

“Oh my god,” he whimpered, clutching his belly. “I just—Power Girl just—oh no oh no oh no—”

It was a full-body betrayal. Like every part of him had declared war on dignity.

The stench hit a second later.

Rank. Sulfurous. Warm enough to steam up the inside of the suit.

He slapped a hand over his mouth, gagging. The suit clung to every ruined curve, now sticky and disgustingly warm. It squelched when he moved. The fabric was too tight to hide anything—white, of all colors—and the back was definitely stained.

He looked down.

Yep. Visible.

His hands trembled. He grabbed at the zipper again, as if now it would magically agree to open.

Nothing.

“I am in hell.”

There was a knock on the stall door.

“You okay in there?” came a woman’s voice. One of the cosplayers, maybe.

Jonas didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

There were no words in any language that could fix this moment.

All he could do was sit there, in Power Girl’s immaculate body, in a white skintight suit now soaked with regret, praying to every pantheon that no one recognized him when he walked out.

If he walked out.