...Charlie
The New World of SwapTech
chapter 9
by
deleted_user
“Charlie,” Bruce said, grinning wide. “Polly. Get in the pods.”
Ken’s fidgety hands went still. A smirk twitched under his silver-streaked undercut. Surgical strike.
“What?” Polly’s breathy voice cracked. She clutched her 22-inch waist with talon nails. “No. No, I’m The Brand—you can’t put me in—”
“You wanted content,” Bruce shrugged, muscles rippling. “Here’s your viral moment.”
Charlie lumbered forward, already sweating with excitement. “Dude. Dude. I’m gonna be The Brand? This is gonna slay. I’m gonna touch my own tits on stream.”
Polly spun on her six-inch heels, extensions whipping, but Javi stepped into her path. “Ma’am,” he said, tipping his crumpled Stetson with a glare at Bruce. “Orders are orders.”
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me, you dinosaur!” Polly shrieked.
The Machine hissed. Blue light pulsed from the seams. Sienna’s voice echoed: “Enter the pods. Or forfeit and leave the villa.”
Polly’s waterproof mascara ran as she cried, but she climbed into the left pod. Charlie squeezed into the right, his stained graphic tee already riding up his 390-pound frame. The glass doors sealed.
“Swapping in three,” Sienna purred. “Two. One.”
Lightning. Sound sucked out of the world. When the pods hissed open again, the bodies stepped out.
Charlie—wearing Polly’s 5’6” hourglass, enhanced 32DDs heaving under a bikini top that suddenly fit wrong-right—let out a high, breathy laugh.
“Oh my God,” he said in Polly’s high voice, running manicured hands down the exaggerated curves. “I’m skinny. I’m stacked. Look at these!” He grabbed his own chest, acrylic nails digging in. “No back pain! I can see my feet! Well, I can see my tits first, but then my feet!”
Polly stumbled out of the other pod, 5’8” of heavy weight settling wrong on her bones. She looked down at the greasy ponytail hanging over her shoulder, the patchy neckbeard itching her chin, the stained tee straining across 390 pounds. She screamed.
“No,” she wheezed, flushed and sweating immediately. “No, no, this is wrong, this is—look at my pores! I have pores! I’m moist!” She tried to run and tripped over her own flabby legs, hitting the turf with a wet thud. “My waist! Where’s my waist?!”
Charlie ignored her, platinum extensions swinging. “Chat’s gonna go crazy for this! I’m gonna make so much bread! Bruce, bro, you’re a legend!” He squeezed his new thighs together. “No thigh gap, but that’s fine, these are premium! I’m gonna oil these up!”
Polly lay on the ground, tiny eyes in Charlie’s puffy face streaming tears. “I’m... I’m hunching,” she sobbed. “I’m The Brand! I’m a size zero!”
Svetlana watched with ice-cold calculation. “Strategic,” she murmured. “He destroyed her image completely.”
Ruth, still pink from the pool, knelt beside Polly’s new bulk. “From a medical standpoint, your BMI just... shifted exponentially. The cardiac strain alone—”
“Shut up!” Polly wailed in Charlie’s body, trying and failing to cross her arms over the massive gut. “Get me a trainer! Get me lipo! Get me out!”
Bruce flexed over them both. “First challenge won. First swap done. You’re welcome, Ken.”
Ken adjusted his rectangular glasses. “The data doesn’t lie.”
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January 29
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