The Body Boutique

 

In the year 2049, almost anything was possible — for the right price.

Jake, twenty-two and restless, wandered the neon streets of New London’s infamous red-light district. He had credits to burn and a curiosity he couldn’t ignore. Tonight, he was looking for the Underground Body Boutique — an outlawed service that let people temporarily swap bodies with willing participants.

The moment he stepped inside, a dozen women approached, each offering their body for a price. But Jake’s attention locked onto just one — Jessie, a tall, silver-haired woman leaning against the back wall, calm amid the chaos.

When she saw him approaching, Jessie gave a knowing smile. She’d seen that look before — curiosity, mixed with a hint of longing.

“You know the rules, don’t you?” she asked coolly.

Jake nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

She led him down a narrow, luminescent hallway to the swap booths — sleek glass pods pulsing with crimson light. The air buzzed with static energy as they stepped inside.

When Jake awoke, everything felt… off. The room spun differently, lighter, sharper. He looked down and saw delicate hands — her hands. Across from him, Jessie blinked and flexed his larger frame, mimicking his movements with eerie precision.

It was well known that swap booths had been banned across most of the world — too many abuses, too many broken lives. But Jake wasn’t here for power or deception. He just wanted to see — to feel life through someone else’s eyes. And who better than someone like Jessie?

The night blurred into color and music. He danced, drank, laughed — feeling wild freedom in Jessie’s form. The rules were clear: no harm to the rented body, no permanent swaps. But as the hours slipped away and his inhibitions dissolved under the lights, Jake couldn’t shake one dangerous thought.

Maybe some experiences were too intoxicating to give back.

Jessie blinked as the swap ended, her mind sliding back into her own body. At first, everything felt normal — until she stood. Her head ached, her muscles burned, and faint traces of makeup and glitter clung to her skin.

She caught her reflection in the glass. Same face. Same body. But something in the way it felt was different — heavier, worn, used.

For a moment, she just stared and whispered, “What did you do to me?”