Kinktober Day 2: Body Swap (Patreon)

The prompt for Day 2 of Kinktober: Body Swap! This is a genre I've never been super interested in reading, and haven't ever written before, but it sounded like a fun challenge. This story is about two very different young women (one of whom happens to be a devotee of Eris, Goddess of Chaos) swapping bodies after one of them gets tired of her own boring, chubby one.

A quick content note: This piece is a more fat-shamey than my normal work. Pretty mild as these things go, but maybe skip this one if that's not your thing. Definitely mined some bits of my own past dysphoria, so tread lightly if you need to.

***

Bea sat up and stretched, feeling a little more sluggish than usual. It was a Saturday afternoon and she had no real plans. Her feet hit the floor, and she was still asleep enough that she didn’t register that her toes were touching carpet and not hardwood.

She walked blearily to her bedroom door, but was confused when she realized the door wasn’t where it was supposed to be. For a moment, she thought she was still asleep. She rubbed her eyes with her palm and looked around and felt like she was going to pass out.

She wasn’t in her bedroom. She’d never seen the room she was in before.

Her heart started to race. If she wasn’t in her room, where the fuck was she?

She looked around. The furnishings looked normal: flowery bedspread not unlike the one she had at home, some clothes on the floor, a collection of crystals and candles and dried out plants sitting on a beat-up vanity next to some makeup and makeup brushes. It smelled like a teenage girl’s room. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed that there were Polaroids arranged on the walls in cute little frames, and she dashed forward, hoping to see someone she recognized. To her dismay, the photos were full of unfamiliar faces, mostly teenagers, mostly girls. There were some awkward Polaroid selfies of one girl in particular. One of them was labeled “18th birthday!!!” and had a photo of the girl blowing out candles on a cake that said “Happy Birthday, Gina!”

Gina was chubbier than all her friends. She wasn’t quite fat, but she was bigger than Bea. (That wasn’t saying much, since most people were fatter than Bea.) In the photos, Gina wore a lot of high-waisted shorts and tops that hung low around her waist, clearly trying to hide her tummy. I would, too, Bea scoffed.

She walked over to the vanity, trying to find more clues about why she was there. Mixed in with the makeup and the candles was a stone bowl with a note folded inside of it, set on top of a bunch of fragrant herbs. Bea unfolded the note and read it, her brows furrowing closer and closer together.

The note looked like a spell. Bea didn’t really understand it, but it had phrases like “Goddess Divine, give me her body, and she may have mine.”

Bea dropped the note like it burned her, and then screamed a little when she caught sight of someone looking back at her in the mirror. “Who are you?!” she asked. But the girl in the mirror seemed to be copying her movements, right down to her expression. She realized she recognized the girl: it was Gina.

Bea gulped and looked down at herself. She expected to see the sculpted body of a nineteen-year-old lacrosse player. Instead, she saw flab. Chubby tummy, chubby thighs. She ran her hands down her sides, squeezing and pulling at the body she was in, trying to reassure herself that it was all her imagination, that she was just losing it, but with every touch, she was more aware that this was her body now.

She was trapped in Gina’s chubby, soft, weak little body.

***

Gina had awoken with a similar realization. She had spent the first thirty minutes of the morning staring at herself naked and unable to stop smiling. She’d really done it. She’d actually swapped bodies with Beatrice Beaulieu, star of the women’s lacrosse team at their university. All her years of currying favor with her patron goddess, Eris, had finally paid off.

Gina didn’t give a single thought to what Beatrice might be experiencing. All she cared about was the fact that she was now inhabiting the body of the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen. For the first time in her life, she felt powerful and strong. She’d gone on so many diets before, but none of them had ever worked. Stepping into her dream body—thin, with long, straight blonde hair, and the only extra fat on her body in her ass and tits—was intoxicating.

After the initial surprise had worn off, she decided to take her new body out for a test run. She found Bea’s cell phone, which thankfully unlocked as soon as Gina looked at it, and set up a profile on her preferred hookup app. Almost immediately, she matched with a guy so gorgeous that Gina wasn’t even surprised he was a model. She asked if he wanted to meet her for brunch that day, and he said yes right away. Gina couldn’t believe it. She was certain that in her old body, she would never have been able to snag a guy like that, and definitely not so fast.

At brunch, she ate heartily, loving that she didn’t have to worry about her date asking “Are you sure you should eat that?” Instead, he complimented her on her appetite. By the time she was done eating, her dress felt a little tight. Still, she didn’t turn the guy down when he asked if she wanted to come back to his place. She was eager for a chance to feel what sex was like in Beatrice’s body.

Unfortunately, her date was just okay in bed, and after a few quick rounds of boring missionary and doggy style, she excused herself and headed home. As she got ready again, she continued matching with every guy she knew she’d never have been able to get before. She managed to secure a lunch date in no time at all, and even scheduled a dinner date for a few hours after that.

At every date, she ate like it was her first time tasting food. Beatrice’s body accepted it all greedily. Beatrice ate like an athlete: clean, lots of protein, lots of vegetables. Gina, figuring her new body could handle it, shoveled mountains of carbs and fat down her throat, eating until she was past full at every meal. At dinner, she even had seconds of dessert. Without fail, every one of her dates complimented her “healthy appetite.”

Her dinner date was actually a good lay. She stayed the night, and he woke her up the next morning with pancakes and bacon.

Still, hot and nice as he was, she’d only been in Beatrice’s body for a day. She was going to milk it for all it was worth. By the time she left Pancake Guy’s house, she already had a date at a bakery/cafe that sold decadent pastries Gina had never been able to eat, knowing every calorie would just end up sticking to her thick thighs and besides, she couldn’t afford them anyway.

***

On Monday, after two days of crying in Gina’s bedroom in the house she rented with several roommates, Bea decided to get her shit together. She still knew next to nothing about who Gina was, and the texts she sent to her own phone went ignored. She wanted to contact her friends and her parents, but she knew none of them would believe her when she said she was the real Bea.

She found a pair of running shoes buried in Gina’s closet that had clearly only been worn a couple times, laced them up, and went for a run. Well, a jog. Or maybe “plod” was the more accurate term. Whatever it was, it was slow and painful. She had to stop frequently, her lungs burning. It was obvious that Gina’s chunky body was not secretly hiding any kind of athlete.

She forced herself to go five miles. It took several bitter hours, made all the more painful by the fact that five miles was barely a warmup for Bea when she was fully herself. But if she was stuck in this body, it would at least be one she felt comfortable in. The little spare tire of belly fat would have to go, no matter what she had to do.

***

A month passed. Then six. Bea stopped trying to text her own phone and get answers. She worked out, ate clean, and went to work at a shitty job to try and pay her rent. Gina’s body felt a little more like home, lean and strong. She always felt a little hungry, but it was worth it to feel sort of normal. Not like she could afford to eat much, anyway. She tried not to think about who she’d been before. Tried not to fantasize about finding the fucking bitch who’d swapped bodies with her and making her put things right. She never did try to confront her, because she knew if it went bad, she’d end up in jail or a psych ward. Being trapped in a stranger’s body was bad enough on its own. Adding literal prison to the situation wouldn’t help anything.

Gina had dropped out of school and quit the lacrosse team as soon as she could. She didn’t have time to waste on sports or classes now that she had a massive allowance dropping into her bank account every month from Beatrice’s uber-wealthy mommy and daddy. They didn’t even call their daughter to ask what was going on. As far as Gina could tell, they didn’t much care.

Gina had spent six months taking advantage of Beatrice’s body and spending limit. She ordered takeout whenever she felt like it, fucked whoever she wanted, dressed exactly how she’d always wanted. The housekeeper who came a few times a week to clean kept the fridge stocked with all her favorite foods. She’d been a little surprised when her previously religiously healthy boss had started asking for cabinets stocked with Cocoa Puffs and Ho-Hos instead of a fridge full of broccoli and chicken breast, but she wasn’t getting paid to ask questions.

It took one bad date to make Gina realize that six months of stuffing herself and never exercising had actually made a difference. Gina had worn an outfit she liked. It was a little tight, but she thought it showed off Beatrice’s tits nicely.

Her date did not agree. He looked shocked as Gina walked up to him. “Hi!” she asked, a little confused by his expression. “It’s me, Beatrice,” she said. “Your… date?”

“Oh. You look, uh, different than your photos.” Fatter, he wanted to say. And she was. The photos Gina had used for her profile were now at least six months old. They showed Beatrice in her prime: slightly muscled arms, a whisper of abs, toned legs, with perky tits and a firm ass, neither of which had a bit of sag to them. The woman who stood before him was at least sixty pounds heavier, bursting out of her top and skirt, flabby gut surging forth. He actually saw her upper arms jiggle, and he was pretty sure he saw red stretch marks on them, too.

Gina ordered like she had been for months, ready to eat her fill. When their food arrived, just as she was rubbing her hands together and getting ready to dig in, he asked, “Are you really going to eat all that?”

Gina laughed. “Of course! I wouldn’t order it if I wasn’t gonna eat it. I’ve got a healthier appetite than other skinny girls.”

Her date snorted. “‘Other skinny girls’?” He was no longer in the mood to beat around the bush. He felt lied to. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

Gina’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, why?”

“Dude, you’re definitely not skinny.” He waved down the waiter, asking for separate checks. “Maybe you were before, but…” He reached forward and poked the fat belly that sat in her lap. “You’re real far from skinny now.”

Gina’s jaw dropped. “How dare you! Are you calling me fat?!” she shrieked.

“Yes! Compared to your old pics, you’re a fucking whale! Maybe you should lay off the cake and hit the gym before you trick some dumb asshole like me into thinking I’m going out with an actually hot girl.”

The waiter arrived with the check and Gina’s date threw down some cash. “Keep the change,” he said before he stormed out.

Gina was too shocked to cry. Instead, she ate her entree, and then her date’s, and ordered herself a fat slice of cake to go.

When she got home, belly stuffed full of the most depressing meal she’d ever eaten, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her date was right: she was totally fat. She tried to console herself by telling herself she wasn’t that huge—she was like, barely over 200 pounds, and was that really such a big deal?

Maybe not to someone else, but it was a big deal to her. Even in her old body, she’d never weighed more than 180. That she’d managed to fatten herself up even bigger than her old self sent her spiraling.

Thankfully, even though she was in a different body and living a life she never would’ve dreamt of before, she’d never wavered in her devotion to her patron goddess. She’d set up a new altar in Beatrice’s room and continued to make offerings. When she’d invited men over to the house, she’d always made sure she took some time to dedicate the act to Eris.

With her heart aching, she called upon her patroness once more. She performed the same spell she had before, hoping for the same results. She went to sleep whispering, “Please, Goddess, please…”

***

In the morning, for the first time in half a year, Gina woke up in her own room. It was cleaner than she remembered. She ran to her vanity, checking her face first thing. She laughed and gave praise to her goddess for her kindness. Gina was back in her old body—and her body was better than it ever had been! She wasn’t Beatrice Beaulieu hot, but she was skinny and in her own body, and that was all that mattered.

Bea woke up feeling weighed down. When she realized she was in her own room, at first she was overjoyed. Was her nightmare finally over?

But of course, as she sat up, she felt a soft belly spill into her lap. She was nude, and her body—and she could tell it was her own body, however alien it felt—was covered in angry red stretch marks. She marched to the nearest full-length mirror, screaming with rage when she saw what Gina had done to her. She tore through her room, looking for her phone. When she found it, she typed in Gina’s number, which she’d been forced to memorize over the last six months.

She sent a flurry of texts before dropping her phone and sitting on the floor in tears.

“YOU GREEDY FUCKING HOG, you RUINED my fucking body!!!

You better PRAY you have some stupid fucking spell to fix this

I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE, YOU COW”