“Ready?”
I looked at her one last time. “Ready.”
She nodded. “I’m initiating the transfer protocol riiiiight… now. It takes a few minutes to wind up as it collects data but you might start feeling disoriented quickly enough. Just tell me if it becomes too unbearable.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I rolled my shoulders in anticipation. The stretcher was so narrow that my hands were touching both side rails, and I’m pretty sure that my feet were inches short of falling off the mattress. I closed my eyes and looked up again, as if I could see the electrodes from inside my skull, and the first wave of nausea hit me. It felt like ten minutes following a shooter of vodka. I thought of bringing my hand to my face but the technician spoke before I could even move.
“I know, I know, I saw your brain react. I’m injecting a mild sedative to keep you comfortable, it might sting at the injection site. You should slip into medical sleep pretty soon. See you on the other si…”
…
…
…
The first thing I remembered when I woke up was feeling absolutely hammered. Like a semi truck had run me over. Gosh, every single muscle in my body screamed at the same time. And when I tried to raise my head, the sticky paste that slathered my scalp and kept the electrodes in place tugged on my hair in a way I’ve never felt before.
Then I remembered.
I opened my eyes and the technician was still with me, although we weren’t in the same room as last night. She had explained it all to me a few times already, but I was rerunning it all in my head. Both procedures started in different rooms, with different techs, and they’d switch halfway through the night to keep monitoring their initial patient. Their initial patient's mind, that is.
“How are you feeling?” She spoke in a whisper, aware of the effect the procedure had had on my senses.
“Like the ceiling crashed onto my head…” My movement was interrupted yet again as I tried to feel my forehead, this time by restraint. Had I been tied to the bed? “You didn’t tell me I was going to be tied down.”
“That’s because we don’t usually need to.” She winked at me. “You kept reaching for the electrodes while you slept.”
“Right, that makes sense then…”
As I looked towards my hands, I noticed unusual bumps in the sheet covering me that I had not seen earlier. The 24 EEG electrodes stuck to my head were hard to ignore, but I didn’t know she had put equipment on my chest, too. She must've put some more there to monitor my heart rate as well. They rose in rhythm with my breathing and I wondered how they could be so symmetrical.
“Hey what are those on my…” I stopped short, finally noticing my voice. “Oh shit it worked!”
“Of course it worked, what did you think?”
“It really worked!” I suddenly became aware of a lot more things happening in my new body, mainly how my hair was a tangled mess, but also that the bumps on my chest were my breasts. “Can you untie me please?” My voice was also different. Not particularly high pitched, but feminine for sure.
“Of course, but don't stand up and don't freak out. There are a few sensory and motor tests we need to run before you're ready to do so.”
My left arm unshackled, I dug my elbow in the mattress to sit up, but something felt out of place. I looked down and noticed my hand was gone.
“What the hell?”
I pushed myself up using my other arm and the sheet slid off my body, revealing my new breasts. After a brief moment of contemplation, I reached out for the sheets with my stump as if I still had my hand and… well, nothing happened. I then tried to hide my boobs, again thinking with two hands, and simply parked my stump in an angle next to my waist, pointed towards my chest. With a complete arm, it would've covered my breasts but not this time. In the end, I rolled back and tugged on the covers with my right hand.
The tech walked around her booth to meet me. “As you can see, your transfer partner was born missing part of her left arm.” She tugged me in a sitting position and adjusted the stretcher.
“This is freaky..” A few inches below my elbow, my arm just… ended. Like a balloon that had been twisted and tied shut. I felt the smooth skin of my stump with my hand. My remaining hand I thought. “I know this sounds weird but it feels familiar somehow.”
“Some physical memories can linger in the host's body even after a transfer. You wouldn't be able to play the piano if she did, but déjà vus like this aren't unheard of. Your head thinks it's weird but your arm doesn’t feel out of place?”
“Yes, exactly!”
She nodded again. “Give it a few days and body and mind will have fused together properly.” She handed me my phone back. “Wanna take a look?”
I extended my arm towards her and nothing happened. The left arm, of course. She laughed so hard it was almost unprofessional. I frowned and used my hand instead, slightly annoyed. As she removed the electrodes glued to my scalp, I tried to press my left index on the fingerprint reader. The stump, Max, the stump! I sighed, bending my elbow as if to switch hands to use it with my left, again flailing the empty air with my shortened limb. I inspected my infirmity trying to print the concept into my brain, staring at the pink-ish skin of the nub.
Phone on my thighs, I swiped up, flicked my security pattern, and turned on selfie mode with my right hand. My only hand, God damnit.
The girl in the camera looked pretty. I looked pretty. Dark brown hair, hazelnut eyes, a tiny bit of freckles, a straight but strong nose. My stump blared on the screen as I reached for the cleft in my chin.
“As you can guess, her disability didn't exclude her from taking part in the program and we were forbidden from telling you about it to ensure she had equality of opportunity. Since your job does not require any manual labor or fine motor skills, you were randomly selected to be her partner.”
“Do people with…” I trailed off, looking back at my stump, again trying to understand this new part of my body. “I'm not mad at you if that's what you're afraid of.”
She nodded, turning around to flip a few switches on her control panel. “Now lift your arms, clench your fists, touch each pointer finger to your thumb, perfect.”
She supported me as I stood up, my stump in her open hand. I noticed that my arm narrowed quite a bit right after my elbow. A few inches later, flesh and skin curved inward like a cul-de-sac. I tried to hold her hand but couldn't, obviously. I knew I was supposed to know how to do this, but at that moment, it felt like I had forgotten. The sensations in my arm ended then and there. Radio silence after that.
The tech rolled in a small luggage full of clothes, about the same size as the one I provided for my partner, and finished her explanations.
“Do you have any questions?”
“Can you help me get dressed?” I chuckled. “I don't think I've ever put on a bra by myself, let alone on myself, let alone with one hand.”
And she graciously did. I adjusted the twisted straps on my shoulders, crossing over awkwardly to my left backside, and grabbed a long summer dress from the luggage. I fumbled at the fabric with my left arm, flicking it back without much results. Just as I couldn't hold her hand, the fabric kept slipping away from my stump. I finally managed to throw it over my head and flattened it around my hips. Then, I danced my ass off putting on a pair of shorts, alternating the left and right side with my hand. I grabbed the luggage using the correct side on the first try.
“And with that you're all set! Have a great one!”
Since my hand was busy, I reached over to shake hers with my stump without thinking. I laughed, embarrassed, and corrected myself. The banging of the luggage on the floor startled me as I had once again tried to catch it with an inexistent limb. This wasn’t going to be easy.
Luckily for me, I knew my way back home from the clinic because I had no idea how I was supposed to check my phone like this. Since my subway pass was in the exterior pocket of my coat, as it always is, I simply pressed it on the terminal without the need to use my stump. The tunnel's cold air gripped at my legs and made me shiver.
The train's gentle hum allowed me a moment of respite. With nowhere to sit, I leaned against the backdoors and wedged my luggage behind my thigh. Through the whirlwind of people, I saw some of them staring at me. Was it only because I was a girl in a summer dress? Or were they intrigued by my missing arm? I ran my thumb against the nub, finding no imperfections. No scar, no bumps, it was round like the tip of a finger but without the nail. I tried to move my hand or any fingers on this side, but it was like asking me to flex my wings. It made no sense in my mind. Lifting my head again, I caught two girls sitting in front of me staring right ahead and decided to hide it behind my back. Out of shame?
—
“Okay, ready?”
“My god I still can't believe that's your voice. Can I please open my eyes now?” Sam pleaded.
I crossed my arms behind my back. “Go ahead!”
Her green eyes fluttered and opened wide, followed by her mouth. “Maaax!!! You're adorable! Wow, look at you!!”
She threw herself at me and we hugged as she picked out each element of my face individually. “Look at those eyes, Max. They're like pools of honey.. Do you like it?”
“It's hard to say, it's only been a few hours. There are pros and cons to everything you know…”
“I know, I know, I know, but you've wanted this for so long!” She grabbed my shoulders and let her hands slide down my arms to grab my hands. “OH my God!”
She had just found my stump. We looked at each other for a full minute, neither of us daring to break the silence. I folded my abbreviated arm against my chest and covered it with my hand, pressing it against my new breasts. She offered a hand and slowly, reluctantly, I put the stump between her fingers. She turned it over like a watchmaker inspecting a broken piece, tracing lines, squishing its flesh.
“Do you regret it?” Sam asked bluntly. As always, she wasn't afraid to speak her mind.
“I wanted some change, didn't I?” I ran my hand through my hair, securing locks behind my ears.
“Did you know about it?” I explained to her exactly what the technician had told me. “Of course, that makes sense. So, what're you gonna do about it?”
“What do you mean what are you going to do about it? I can't exactly return it to the store can I. It’s mine now.” I could've told her about the 5 years limit before being able to register again, but that wouldn't’ve helped me in the short term. I took back my new arm, letting it hang at my side. “Does it look weird?” My voice surprised me again, higher than before as I spoke in a squeaky voice.
“Weird how?” She took a step back.
“I don't know, I felt like people were staring.” I bent my arm to point my stump upwards, like standing at attention, and lowered it again. I had a hard time finding a comfortable resting position. “A lot. In the subway I mean.”
“It stands out, obviously. But more like ‘Huh’ than ‘Holy shit!!!’, you know?” She did air quotes to emphasize the difference. “People with missing limbs aren't that common. I'd probably do a double take if I crossed you on the street, that's all.”
“Okay..” I wasn’t sure if that was to be taken as a compliment or not.
“But as a girl you'll see people look at you a lot, just in general. More so since you're really cute now, so you better get used to it.”
“Okay.. yeah okay.” My fingers found my stump again, fidgeting with it, then grasping it in my palm and clenching it hard. Its fleshy end squished between my fingers. I sighed. “I need to sit down.”
—
I stood in front of the mirror in my room, which I had purchased last week for this occasion exactly, wearing nothing but that girl’s bra and panties. I shook my head. No. My bra. My panties. That reflection is me now.
I am a girl.
A warm feeling came over me. It felt like taking the first sip of a steaming hot cup of cocoa after a long walk in the winter cold. It felt good, great even. Like things were suddenly falling into place. Like I was finally… me.
Finally.
The word echoed inside my head, like blasted out of a gigantic speaker. I looked up and down and even shook my head to make sure this wasn’t a trick. My vision followed the movement of the person in front of me. My eyes. My body.
I smiled and lifted my right hand to my face, taking a step forward to inspect me from every angle. It was the same face I had seen on the camera roll after waking up from the procedure. A strong but pretty nose, scattered freckles on the latter and my cheeks, and gorgeous brown eyes the color of burnt honey. I opened my mouth and smiled. A crooked canine, slightly out of place on the upper right side, but in a cute and unique way. I stuck out my tongue and tilted my head sideways like an anime character. That made me giggle. A feminine laughter. My ears buzzed from the feeling.
So many other things looked and felt different now. My shoulders were narrower, my limbs more slender, and I was a good foot shorter than before, too, shifting my perspective a whole lot compared to what I was used to. I put my hand on my waist, narrower too, and only now remembered my stump. It had mimicked the motion I had dictated to my hand instinctively, even though I had forgotten about it. Again. It rested against my side, as naturally as it could, elbow bent at 90°, its end slightly squashed upwards.
I took it into my hand and pressed hard on it with my thumb. I could feel a bone deep within my forearm, but only for about half its length, before it stopped abruptly. After that, there was nothing but loose flesh. I placed it on my waist again and tested a few different resting positions, all of which affected the way it squashed and stretched. It reminded me of thighs sagging on a lawn chair in summer. It even bore creases and folds seemingly where it bent most often, not unlike an elbow or knuckles on a finger. Looking at it react to my movements was hypnotizing. I let it hang at my side and when compared to its twin, it became clear that even the upper part of my arm was shorter by at least 2 or 3 inches. It was leaner also, less muscular, probably from all the work it wasn’t apt to participate in. I rotated and looked at it from another angle. I wanted changes? Well I got… changes. I had an entirely new body part to get used to… apart from the whole… transition thing, of course. Even the added weight on my chest felt… right.
There was a soft knock at the door. I looked at the time. 11:14pm.
“Max? Are you still up?” Sam whispered from the other side. I took a step towards the door and stopped dead in my tracks when I realized I was in my underwear. The door started opening.
“Um, yes.. wait!” I lunged forward, arms extended in front of me, and the force of the impact resonated into my right shoulder. I laid my stump against the door and bent my arm, using my elbow to put a little more pressure on the painted wood. “I… I’m just doing some stuff… I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”
“Oh… Sure!” I could tell I had hurt her feelings. “No problem, I’ll be in my room if you need me.” My heart sank in my chest as her voice trailed off.
“Good night...” I bit my lip and added : “Sam?”
There was a short pause. “Yes?”
“Thanks. For… being my friend.”
She didn’t answer, but I could imagine her smiling on the other side of the door.
—
Due to the stars being aligned, or simply by dumb luck, I had been lucky enough to keep my good hand, and so I thought that one-handed tasks would remain fairly straight forward. Well I was wrong, again. It turned out that very few things can be done with only one hand, and that most of them require at the very least two useful limbs to be able to complete.
Like the mayonnaise jar I had grabbed from the fridge, and had absentmindedly angled towards my left hand and twisted into empty air. I shook my head to snap back into the moment and tried again, this time pressing my forearm onto the lid, hoping that the friction would provide me with enough grip to twist it open. My skin was too loose, and a little too humid.
“Would you look at that!! Hurdle number one has entered the chat!!”
I jumped back and brough my arm to my chest, my new stump pressing against my new breasts.. “Jesus!! You scared me Sam..” I set the jar on the counter beside my plate. “I was up in my head.”
“I can see that! Give it, I’ll do it for you.” She extended her hand but I pushed it further away from her, defensive.
“I need to get used to it! It’s my body now.”
“Suit yourself.” She scoffed and then frowned. “Why don’t you switch it around? Hold the jar with your stump and unscrew the lid with your hand?”
I thought about it for a second before doing exactly as she had told me. The grip my short arm gave me wasn’t actually that bad, but it certainly was awkward. Back in my old body, when both of my hands were busy, I would usually use the part of my forearm closest to my wrist to hold things against my stomach, or even bump a chair out of my way. But since my new body never had a wrist to begin with, and stopped short almost up to the elbow, it created yet another novelty I had to take into account.
Grabbing the jar again with my hand, I jammed it in the nook of my elbow and engaged the muscles of my shoulder to press it against me, bending my arm slightly like trying to grab onto the mayonnaise. Then, my hand effortlessly unscrewed the lid and I set the whole thing on the countertop again, satisfied. Knife in hand, I reached inside the jar but it slid back when I tried to scoop out a dollop. I sighed.
“Of course.” I leaned forward and held it in place with my arm, my fingerless nub now a meager paperweight. “I'm about to notice just how much we actually use two hands for everything.”
“In my point of view,” Leaning on the fridge to my left, Sam was watching me with intent. “You're not doing too bad! You had a problem and found a solution right away!”
“Thank you.”
I plopped the knifeful of mayo on a slice of bread but it skittered on the plate just like the jar had done. Had I sighed again? My stump came to the rescue once again, this time facing downward to hold the crust as I spread my hard earned harvest. My grasp on it was flimsy, decorative almost, yet somehow still important. As useless as my arm looked and as feeble as its hold could be, it could still be put to good use. As I got lost in my thoughts for a quarter of a second, my focus escaped me and the knife brushed against the skin at the end of my arm. I jumped back.
Sam let out a shriek. “Are you hurt?”
“No I’m fine, it’s just…”
I looked at my stump again, for the umpteenth time since yesterday afternoon, and at the absence of my hand. At how it ended prematurely. At the little dimple of skin that budded inwards at the tip. At how light it felt when I bent my arm. At the way the flesh wobbled slightly when it moved, the image of thick thighs popping again in my mind. There was a thin line of mayo streaking across it. I raised my arm and as I did so, my elbow leveled with my eyes to allow my stump to reach my mouth. I licked it off. Licked mayonnaise off the stump of my left forearm. The contact of my tongue against this body part I was not supposed to have made me dizzy. I stumbled back, trying to catch myself with a hand that wasn’t there. My arm flew by the edge of the wall and I hit my elbow, then lost my footing.
“Holy shit Max!!” She caught my hand as I fell, preventing me from hitting the ground like a ragdoll. “Come on over here, poor boy… Sorry. Poor girl.”
Nausea rose in my throat and my vision went black for an instant when I heard her call me a boy. When it came back, we were halfway over to the couch, my complete arm wrapped around her shoulder. I beached myself on the fake leather seat and took a few deep breaths to clear my head, hands on my knees. No, hand. Right hand on my knee, left stump on my thigh, near my hip.
I swallowed with difficulty. “Sorry, I..” I ran a hand through my long hair and felt my vigor come back to me gradually. “It’s harder to adapt than I thought it would be…”
“You changed bodies yesterday, Max! Give yourself a break! You just switched genders and you have part of a limb that’s missing. Most people need a day off just to make a fucking phone call these days. You’ll feel better in no time, I’m sure of it.”
I smiled at her and felt my lip curl at the spot where my tooth laid crooked. I reached for her hand and let our fingers intertwine lovingly. “I love you Sam. You’re my best friend.”
“And I’ll always be there for you.”
Her smile warmed my heart and we fell into each other’s arms, our head on each other’s shoulder, and my stump poking somewhere into her back.
—
“B78?”
With a pile of papers in my hand and the strap of my bag hooked over my short arm, I walked over to Desk D to meet with the clerk. The buzzing neon lights that spanned the entire length of the ceiling gave his working space a dull gray color.
“Good morning Madam, what can I do for you today?”
My vision fuzzied at the mention of my new pronoun, and my steps felt bouncier. “Hi um, I was Swapped last week so I'm here to put my personal information to date.”
“Let us check that out together, shall we then?” He looked at me from over his crescent shaped glasses, with a look halfway between disappointment and laisser-aller in his eyes. “Okay, I need to verify your previous identity first and then we'll make adjustments to your new one. Full name, date of birth, and RAMQ number please?”
“Maxime Stillwater, March 6th 1995, STIM 9503 0688.”
“Place of birth?”
“McGill University Health Center.”
“Maiden name of your mother?”
“Fournier.”
“Perfect score, good. With that verified, I can get access to the Canadian Bodily Swapping Program and televerse most of the changes. While it does, let me take a look at those forms.”
I was already a little nervous before coming in, but his disapproving look did nothing to make me feel at ease. The surge of confidence I had felt mere seconds ago was long gone. A slight tremor shook my hand. As I struggled to pick up the papers, I instinctively brought my other arm up and fidgeted at the corner of the pages with my overturned stump, as useful as a pair of sandals in winter. I chuckled nervously and pushed the pile towards him instead, a tad ashamed.
I felt him repressing a sigh. “Was that arm part of the deal or..”
He let his words hang in the air and I held my breath for a few seconds, waiting to see where he thought he was going with it. When it had become clear that he had no intention of finishing his thought, I spoke up.
“No, it…” I moistened my lips. “It was a surprise.”
He let out a low hum, and I still couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or was simply in bad faith. “Do you regret it? Surely you know there’s a 5 year refractory period until you can register for another swap?”
I scoffed, recalling how Sam had asked me the same question. However, since this time it wasn't coming from a friend, it felt more like an attack. Coming from a supposedly impartial government worker, it hurt differently. “Honestly, I don’t mind missing an arm if it means I don’t wake up everyday feeling like killing myself.”
He rolled his eyes and we went through the painstaking amount of paperwork that his printer had dished out without any more of his comments. Updating my driver’s licence, health and social insurance, tax forms, passport, etc. Then came the official documents of my swapping partner’s birth, all of which I would have to learn by heart. By switching bodies, I had effectively gotten younger by a full 17 months. That would also take some time to get used to.
“Okay. So..” He checked another few boxes and scanned the whole thing into his computer. “I just want to verify one last thing. Did you want a name change done today? Because with the way you filled the form, you're walking out of here with the same name as before.”
I managed to smile at him. “There's no mistake. I'm keeping my name.”
—
After what felt like an eternity, the beat dropped.
The bass pounded my eardrums even through my foam plugs, it shook my bones to my core, my heart beating in synchrony with the music. I was sweating buckets but I didn't care. It was hot and humid outside but inside was even worse. The few curls that had escaped my bun now stuck to my face like papier mâché but I danced anyway, like the world was ending. Eyes halfway closed, I was in my own little bubble, bumping shoulders, an occasional hand trailing on my back. I didn’t care for others, I didn’t care for looks..
I had never felt so alive.
The DJ forced a transition into a line dance. It was like putting a stick in the front wheel of a bike. Like a shifting amoeba, the crowd morphed and split itself in three : those heading for the bar for a refill, those forming lines, strangers arm in arm ready to sing their hearts out, and those like me, who migrated to the sidelines for a well deserved breather. I was drenched.
Fanning myself with a discarded menu, I looked around the room and spotted someone standing beside me a little too conspicuously for it to be random. My stomach knotted. I closed my eyes and took a sharp breath in before turning towards them.
He lifted his chin at me and pointed back at the bar. “Can I get you something?” The clacking heels were loud but somehow, his voice found a way to my ears.
I cocked my head slightly and offered him my hand. “If you insist.”
He was hot, too. Both ways, that is. Glistening with sweat like me. He guided me around the crowd and we waited in awkward silence at the bar until the maid’s attention fell on us. He asked silently and I answered with a shrug.
“Two blondes.” She nodded at his two raised fingers and tossed a look at me when I raised my own.
“And two shots of Tequila!!” I giggled and tiptoed nervously before fixing the curls back around my bun. I shrugged again before his quizzical look. “What?!”
He smiled back. “Next round’s on you, then?”
I winked at him and the knot in my guts loosened a notch when he scanned me up and down. That’s what being desired feels like.
By the time we turned back, our drinks had been served. Between two chilled glass pints of hay-colored beer were two shot glasses filled to the rim, two thick lemon wedges, and a single salt shaker.
Without breaking eye contact, I lifted my left arm, bringing it under the spotlight for the first time, and smeared lemon juice on the skin of my forearm near the stump before grabbing the wedge in the nook of my elbow. His eyes flashed down, in understanding rather than in surprise. My lips stretched into a thin smile and I generously salted my limb, not caring about what ended up on the floor. I lifted my shot at him while he prepared himself and we cheered, my stump in full view of the both of us. The smell of Tequila burned at my nostrils.
I hate Tequila.
A million alarms blared in my brain when it sloshed around my mouth and I urged myself to swallow, aggressively slamming my glass on the wooden bar before grabbing the lemon and violently biting into it. The acidity quickly drowned the taste of the alcohol and as I swallowed again, I realised I had forgotten to even lick the salt in the first place. Mister Mister had gone through his own shot without noticing and now stared back at me with my left arm still raised, still glittering in salt crystals. I licked my lips and took a step forward, shoving my stump in his face.
I held my breath and the knot tightened back.
Did he think it was a test? Because he passed it with flying colors.
He reached for my stump with an open hand and fit it into his palm, its end pressed directly onto his skin. A stump I had been so ashamed of only a few months ago, and now displayed shamelessly, proudly almost, to all who wanted to see, in a strapless sleeveless top. Then, like time had slowed down, he leaned forward and stuck out his tongue to lick the salt off my skin. I could have counted every single grain of salt that went into his mouth if given the chance. There was no hesitation in his eyes as he looked back at me from over his rounded glasses. Only dedication.
We headed back to the dance floor after Shania’s turn had come and gone, beer in hand, dancing with one another this time around. The beat pulsed through the air once more and I let my body guide me through the music, undulating in ways I never knew I could. Twisting my hips, pressing my ass against his groin, pushing my chest outwards provocatively, and his eyes were eating me alive. I did the same, letting the physicality of his figure consume my entrails like I had rarely felt before. His white shirt stretched over his subtle yet defined pectoral muscles, the pale stains at his pits, arms confident and firm, hands that reached out to touch me…
My breathing quickened. I longed to grab onto him but couldn’t, with my hand already busy holding my beer, and stretched my left arm towards him instead, hooking my stump behind his neck. I felt our breaths mingle and forced myself against him without difficulty, our bodies at a stand still in the middle of the dancefloor. My breasts pushed against his chest as I tried to catch my breath and his hand had found its way onto my back, gently keeping us together. His tongue tasted like beer and lemon juice, his stub pricked at my cheeks. His fingers slid underneath my top and, going around my chest, daringly tickled the underside of my boob.
I lifted an eyebrow and retaliated, retrieving my arm and doing my best to hold on to his, guiding his hand out of my clothes but onto my breast, then pushing it into his grasp. He gripped it gently and I felt part of my brain melt away into my spine. I would’ve grabbed his junk in response but couldn’t, since my hand was already busy taking care of my glass. I instead took a long swig and kissed his lips once more, letting him have a drink directly out of my mouth. It felt absurd, gross even, but also good. He licked his lips comically and dove in for another kiss, hand on my shoulder, refusing to let me go. Letting our nods and glances speak for ourselves, he once more led me out of the crowd, this time holding my stump as normally as if it had been a hand, his fingers gently digging into my supple flesh. I downed the rest of my drink.
The next 15 minutes were a blur in my mind.
When I came back to myself, I was looking for the spare key behind a loose brick by the windowsill of my apartment. We rushed inside.
My heart pounded in my ears, almost as loud as the music had been fifteen minutes ago. Did I really bring a stranger back home? I had never done it, even back when I was still a…
I tripped on Sam's running shoes and my train of thoughts derailed, sending it and my body plummeting towards the floor. The world around me toppled over but somehow, like a scene in a superhero movie, his hand caught me. A name appeared in my head. Cam. Cam caught me. His face was obscured by the darkness of the hallway but I could still guess his features. He took a step towards me and laid a hand on my cheek.
The knot in my stomach… loosened.. and dissolved, leaving behind a bubbling sensation, almost like one of those Alka-Seltzer pills we used to have in chemistry class. It took form in my lower abdomen and started radiating outwards, filling most of my body with a weird tingling and a heightened sense of awareness. Cam’s kisses felt more intense, more intimate, and as I laid my hand on his arm for support, I almost thought I could melt right into him. I looked up at him and although he was barely taller than me, I felt small and needy. The bubbling transformed into a flock of butterflies, fluttering downwards into my groin. Was that… I chuckled and walked out of his range, pressing my thighs together as I made my way into my room, inviting him in.
You should tell him.
The thought ran through my head like a lightning bolt, scorching my mind. My eyes darted around the room, almost panicking for a second, but I already knew I wouldn’t find what I was looking for. All traces of my previous life had been scraped from the apartment, every single piece of clothing, every framed picture, entirely replaced. Gone, like forgotten.
I sat on the bed, eyes still locked onto his, leaning back on my hand, with my left arm kept close to my side, its blunt end visible near where my crop top let my stomach show.
That is my new life. He saw it, fuck he licked it, said nothing about it. End of the story.
He followed without hesitation, kneeling before me, fitting his hand behind my neck like he had done earlier. I would’ve given anything for him to take me right then and there, although the thought made little sense in my mind. I felt a longing in my bones, an emptiness that needed to be filled. I needed him to complete me, I needed his half of the puzzle.
Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into?
I laid on my back, bending my knee and pressing it against his groin to push him onto me, his face all up against mine, his left hand beside my head, and his right finding my breast again. I was burning up, sweating like we had been back at the club, I reached over with my hand and pushed down on my top, looking for some air, and my breasts bounced out of it.
You’ve never been there before. Not since you’ve swapped.
The swarm of butterflies jumped up to my chest, radiating into pure bliss, into a warmth so deliciously tolerable it rendered the male orgasm absolutely pathetic.
You should tell him.
I shook my head unconsciously and my nipple slipped out of his mouth. No, Cam, it’s not you, I thought as I fumbled at his hair with my stump, bringing him close again. There was no way. No way I had this energy coursing through me with just a few kisses and a second of him playing with my breasts. There was this fire, this inferno burning at my core, eating me from the inside and out, wanting to get out, waiting to explode.
You have to tell him.
“I… I… I can’t… I don’t…”
I writhed under him, pushing my groin against his thigh, begging for my shorts to tear themselves in two, to bring us closer together. I mumbled to myself, hoping he wouldn’t hear me, embraced as we were, out of breath as he had brought me.
Wait.
“Cam… Cam… Wait… Wait a…”
There you go.
He looked up at me with drunken benevolence ; intoxicated but respectful, dizzied yet aware. “Is something wrong?”
“No, oh God no…” I needed to breathe in between my words, the heat still pulsing in my chest like living embers. “It’s my…” I swallowed and pursed my lips, letting as much air out as I was physically able to. “I’ve never…”
I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring a guy back to my place and admit right then and there that I had never had sex. Not in this body. Not as a girl. I couldn’t admit I was a Swapper. I couldn’t tell him that a little over 3 months ago, I was still a guy. Not after we had hit it off so well. What if he had just… left?
He seemed to get it. “Hey.. No yeah, it’s fine, don’t worry about it, I’ll…” There was a chill in the air, like I had opened a window in a snowstorm. “I’ll go slowly, okay? And, and… If I hurt you, or, or if anything…”
“No, no, no, I’m not a… a virgin…” Another cold shower. “It’s just that it’s my first time on…” I sighed in shame. “On this side of the…” I gestured between us. “Um… spectrum…”
Tension hung in the air so thick that I could’ve cut it with a knife.
His eyes grew wider in surprise, then narrowed again. It was subtle, but not enough for me to miss it. Was he about to bolt and leave me desiring, half-naked on the bed?
He put both hands beside my head but stayed hovering above me. “How long ago?”
My heart skipped two beats. “It’ll be one hundred days on Saturday.”
He let a minute pass with his eye set deeply into mine. I was shaken to my core. Not knowing what to say, neither what to do, staring back at him with my tits out felt unreal.
“Why did you do it?” He whispered to me gently, without a hint of aggression or judgement in his voice.
Do we really have to do this now? is what I wanted to say. But the reality was that since I had brought it up, the least I could do was answer his question truthfully.
“I… I hated myself so much that I could barely look at my reflection in the mirror. I felt…” I brought my hand to my chest, closing it into a fist, with the stump of my left arm pressed against my elbow. “Trapped…” My eyes teared up. “Trapped in a body that felt wrong… that wasn’t mine…”
Through the blur of my tears, I didn’t see him come close for another kiss. Tender, sweet. He grabbed my hand and brought it to his face. “Does this one feel right, then?”
I sniffed and nodded, coughing to repress a sob. “It does, yeah.”
“And does this feel right?”
He kissed me again and gently pressed his knee against my groin. The cold air that had infiltrated the room a moment ago was rapidly fading away, while the burner had been turned on again. For the first time in my new life, I felt my labias wet with envy, with desire. He pushed his tongue inside my mouth and I grabbed a handful of hair to keep him close to me.
“Mmmmmh..” I moaned against his lips and brought my stump underneath my breast to bring them up closer to him. He got the message and squeezed it gently in his hand, making me arch my back under him. “Take off my clothes…”
Sitting again, he stripped me of the few clothes I had worn this evening, his hands warm against my skin, leaving me with nothing but my panties. I laid before him again, feeling the weight of his lusty stare on my body, on my breasts, on my still-hidden groin. Women had never looked sexy or pretty to me yet at this moment, I knew that’s exactly what he saw in me. Chest exposed, slender limbs bent strategically against me, legs curled up to hide what little remained to be uncovered. Instead of asking him to finish the job, I stuck my thumb inside my panties and lifted my legs in the air. I flashed my ass and lips to him as I finished stripping, sticking my head from behind my legs to stare back at him.
Without thinking much about how it would sound coming out of my own mouth, I blurted out : “Dinner is served.”
His eyes narrowed again in sheer focus. Dropping on all fours, he made his way towards me like an animal hunting for prey. For a brief moment, I could feel his steaming breath on my boiling clit. I grabbed the sheets beside me with my remaining hand while the stump of my left arm wagged fruitlessly, like a scared animal trying to bury its head in the sand and, as my eyes revulsed towards the back of my head, as I now learned what it truly meant to have swapped, and as I pressed my thighs at the sides of his head, I let out a whimper that could’ve shattered the sky.
A voice echoed in my mind.
Do you regret it?
I secured a handful of hair and pushed his face between my lips even harder, smiling from ear to ear.
No I don’t.