Black Widow
The New World of SwapTech
chapter 7
by
deleted_user
Jonas stood in the cramped fitting room of Coastal Costumes & Curiosities, holding the Black Widow costume in his hands.
The fabric was thick, stretchy, with a subtle sheen. Black and dark blue panels, a zipper down the front, and a web-like pattern printed across the torso. It felt heavy for its size, like it was made of something durable.
I'm really doing this.
He pulled back the curtain, checked that it was closed, and then stood there, staring at himself in the mirror.
Okay. The yoga pants and tank top have to come off.
He stripped. It was strange—peeling off the clothes he'd woken up in, baring a body he still didn't quite recognize. The mirror showed a woman with smooth skin, a flat stomach, small but noticeable breasts. She had a mole just below her left collarbone. Her arms were toned, her legs long.
That's me now.
He picked up the Black Widow costume and stepped into it.
The fabric slid up his legs easily, hugging his thighs and hips like a second skin. He pulled it over his torso, feeling it compress his chest, flatten and shape him in ways he hadn't expected. The zipper was at the front—he pulled it up, watched the bodysuit seal him inside.
Then he looked in the mirror.
And blinked.
The woman staring back looked good. The suit was tight—form-fitting in a way that left nothing to the imagination—but it was also sleek, powerful. The arms were bare, the neckline plunged in a V that showed the top of his—her—cleavage. The web pattern across the torso caught the light.
Jonas turned, watching the fabric shift with his movement. He raised his arms, bent his knees, tested the range of motion. The suit moved with him, like it was made for his body.
Because it was made for a body like this.
He touched his own waist. Felt the compression of the fabric. Saw the curve of his hips.
I look hot.
The thought came unbidden, and Jonas felt his face flush in the mirror.
I look hot, and I'm a man, and this is a woman's costume, and—
He couldn't stop looking.