The moment the swap hit, I found myself standing exactly like her—arms crossed under a pair of impossibly full breasts, a tight lace bra pushing everything up, denim hanging loose on a slim waist. Her blonde ponytail slid over one shoulder as I tried to breathe, feeling the unfamiliar weight on my chest rise and fall.

Her body was confident… but my mind wasn’t.

Not yet.

I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror behind me.

A woman’s sculpted, curvy frame…

But my face—staring back with a stunned, masculine confusion.

It was like the universe hadn’t finished stitching the swap together.

And then her posture took over.

Slowly, my borrowed arms uncrossed themselves, hands gliding down her soft sides as if exploring what was now mine. Her hips shifted naturally, a subtle sway I would’ve never dared to do in my real body.

The words on the screen in front of me still glowed:

“friends all day long.”

Her voice—warm, teasing, breathy—came out of my mouth without permission:

“Yeah… friends all day… but like this?”

A tiny smirk curled on her lips—my lips—because even if my face looked out of place, the body felt too seductive, too alive, too eager to move under my command.

I stepped closer to the mirror.

The blonde ponytail brushed against my back.

The straps of her bra dug softly into her shoulders.

Her heartbeat was quickening—mine now—and I couldn’t tell if it was panic or excitement.

Maybe both.

And that was the moment I realized…

I wasn’t fighting the takeover anymore.

I was leaning into it.