“I finally did it… I’m perfect.”
My ex-girlfriend had gained a lot of weight since our break-up. She was chubby back then, but it had gotten out of hand.
We were still friends, and she often confided in me.
“I just don’t know what to do… I don’t know if I can go on like this.”
There are three things I should mention. First, I still cared for her. Second, I had always been both attracted to her old body and to the thought of having it. And three, I had been born with a special gift: once in my life, I could permanently swap bodies with one person.
“What if I told you you didn’t have to go on like this?”
I proceeded to explain my ability to her. She was justifiably skeptical.
“Listen: I like working out. I’m sure I can get your body back normal, maybe even a little better. Then, maybe we can switch back.”
I was lying, of course. The swap was one-way. But I knew this was the best thing for her. For both of us.
“Oh… Okay…”
In an instant, we had swapped. I had never felt such weight before. It was tough to move.
“Oof, I can understand why it’s hard to work out with this body,” I said, smiling at her.
“Please, if at any point you want to swap back, just let me know…”
“Of course,” I said, looking away.
*6 Month Later*
“My god, look at you!”
“I know, pretty good, right?”
I had done an amazing job with her (well… my) body. I had taken off over a hundred pounds, getting me down to a relatively healthy weight.
“I… I have to tell you,” she said from my (still very in shape) body. “You’ve seemed so… so happy in my body, even when it was overweight.”
“I am happy,” I said, quite honestly.
“And I’m… well, I’m really happy in your body. So… I was wondering…”
“Shhh…” I cooed. I grabbed her (his) hand, and took him upstairs.
*3 Month Later*
“Ready, babe?”
“Almost!” I shouted back. It takes a while to get into my pants, especially since my boyfriend likes them so tight. But that’s alright. I like’em tight, too.
I finally did it… I’m perfect.
