Bodyport: Debts Cleared, You're Free

Part 1

The sound of water from the fountain splashing nearby slightly muffled the noise of cars and people talking. It should’ve been perfect — the sun wasn’t scorching yet, just gently caressing the shoulders, and a light breeze was playing with the edge of a tank top. But Artemas couldn’t really relax, because everything had gone completely sideways compared to what he had planned when, just for fun, he decided to try out the “BodyPort” service and spend three hours inside the body of some local dude — wanted to see Belgrade from the inside, from the perspective of a “regular Balkan guy,” as he’d joked. But now, instead of being in the body of a guy in shorts with rakija in hand — he was sitting in a body where even breathing felt different. Everything was different.

He — or rather, she now — was sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, feeling how the warm pavement heated her ass even through the jeans, and with every passing minute, it became more and more clear that the tank top, which had seemed cool at first from her male point of view, wasn’t so great after all. The breasts she now had to call her own seemed like they were trying to spill out on purpose. More precisely, it was the dark lilac bra stretching the fabric so tight that everything turned into a display window. And the most annoying part — how it all felt. The pulling, the pressure, the rubbing.

Her gaze involuntarily stopped once again on a passing young guy who was taking a sip from a cold bottle, the drops of water running down the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his t-shirt — and without even realizing it, she bit her lip, staring at his torso.

— What the fuck... — she exhaled, trying to look away, but something inside, something completely new and unfamiliar, wouldn’t let her. It wasn’t just “oh, a cute guy,” not the usual “wonder what he looks like with that shirt off.” No, this was absolutely not what she expected to feel in this body, and definitely not what she had ever felt living her life as Artemas Kincaid, a 29-year-old software engineer from Texas.

— Stop it. This... this is fucking insane — she whispered, squeezing her knees together, feeling once again that tension low in her belly, spreading warmth through her whole body, — I don’t want this... — she went on, almost pleading, whispering to herself as if trying to talk down whatever was inside her now, something that lived by its own rules, not asking for permission and not giving a damn about her past engineer’s rational mindset.

Her hand slid unconsciously closer to her stomach, clenched into a fist at the waistband of her jeans, like maybe that could stop the heat, that deep pulsing urge that had nothing in common with her male mind. Her throat was dry again. She ran her tongue over her lips and immediately felt her lower lip get caught in her teeth again — like the body itself knew what gesture would attract attention, how to show itself in just the right light.

‘God. What the hell is this?..’

The sound of a phone snapped her out of it, and she even scolded it internally, not on purpose, just instinctively, for distracting her. It was a text from BodyPort, which she was still sitting not far from.

“Successful user authorization: Veronika Petrovan. Body status: active. All debts have been successfully cleared. Thank you for choosing BodyPort™.”

— What?! — she blurted out too loudly, immediately glancing around, as if startled by her own voice.

Part 2

No, seriously? Successful authorization? Body status — active? What about: oh sorry, technical glitch, we’ll return you to your original body as promised? Where’s even a single word about a mistake, about the fact that he, Artemas, hadn’t asked for these tits and hips, and sure as hell hadn’t wanted to bite his lower lip while staring at some guy’s torso like she… like she.

She looked at the screen again, but the message was still there. All of it real. No “we’ll return you in 5 minutes.” No explanations. Just Veronika Petrovan, active.

– You fuckers… – she whispered, standing up, and immediately felt the bra pull tight on her shoulders and bite painfully into her skin. Turning her head, she saw him again. That same guy — with the cold bottle, with the t-shirt now sticking to his body in places. He was walking toward her. Straight at her. Looking right at her, not at someone behind, not past her, but at her. And with every step, something inside her tightened and then unfurled in a hot wave.

‘I’m serious… I… No, no, no… Just don’t come over… Not now… I need to get back into my body… I’m not her…’ — she almost pleaded with herself, but the very next second, she automatically lifted her chin, straightened her back, and goddamn it, shifted her leg to show off her hip. And that wasn’t logic. That was biology. Or something scarier. Because the moment he came closer, with that slight, almost lazy smile on his face and that squint — the one that sent shivers down the back of her neck — her body responded with the same obedience as if it had known him before she even had time to be afraid.

– Hey, are you waiting for someone? – he asked with a smile, looking down at her.

She swallowed. Literally. The dryness in her mouth returned, and her tongue wouldn’t cooperate. ‘Don’t react. Just look away and walk off. That’s it. You’re a man, for fuck’s sake, not this chick. God, think of an excuse to get him off your back…’

– Um… no – she managed, forcing a smile and tucking a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear. – Just… relaxing. Waiting… for someone.

‘What the hell are you babbling?! Waiting for who?! Get up!’

She shifted awkwardly, adjusting the strap of her tank top, and turned her head toward the BodyPort entrance, feeling how the hoop earrings in her earlobes lightly tapped her neck with a chill of metal. But of course he was still watching her with that lazy, slightly amused interest that should’ve been annoying, but for some reason made her feel that tingling right between her shoulder blades. She could almost physically feel his gaze trailing down her — from the top of her head to her ankles. One more second and her knees were going to start trembling.

‘Get a grip, Artemas! Just walk away, what the fuck kind of body did they give me?!’

– Hey, listen… – he began, taking a step forward, now almost right up in her space, – You seem a little lost. Maybe I can help? I’m Paul, by the way. And you are?

She turned her head and had to look up — not just because he was taller, no, because he was too close, so close she could feel the warmth of his body, and even the faint scent of his cologne.

– Veronika – she said too quickly. And only then realized. She said it. THAT name. It just came out. Like her lips already knew who she was, even if her brain was still clinging desperately to its Texas roots and engineering degree.

– Pretty name – Paul nodded, slightly squinting – It suits you. Listen, maybe a coffee? There’s a place right—

– I… I need to go there – she cut him off, raising her hand sharply and pointing at the glass door with the BodyPort sign. Her fingers were trembling. Slightly. Almost unnoticeably. But she felt it. Just like she felt her nipples harden under the fabric — from his gaze, from his closeness, from his — his — scent.

Part 3

Paul turned, looked at the building, and shrugged:

– Well, I can wait. Got a free morning anyway.

‘No, no, no. God, just go already. I’ll go in there and everything will go back. Just a glitch. I’ll be myself again. I swear I’ll never laugh at that dumbass service ever again...’

– No need, really. I’ll be quick, – she said, already stepping forward, feeling how her hips moved with that unnatural rounded sway, and how the waistband of the jeans scraped her skin, like everything inside was screaming look at me, look, look...

Paul, of course, followed. He wasn’t pushy, no. He just walked. Beside her. Not too close, not too far. Just… close enough for her to feel him.

And she did feel him. More with every second. As if little by little, Artemas was peeling off her, and the body was filling that space with a new Veronika. It didn’t just want him to walk next to her — it wanted him to wrap an arm around her waist, to lean in and whisper something right into her ear. And that made her want to howl.

No. Not this.

They entered the building. Cool air hit her face and goosebumps spread across her skin. Especially on her breasts — fuck, how it felt… like heat and cold at the same time.

Behind the front desk sat a girl with bright nails and a hairstyle that hovered between effortless and perfectly done. This was definitely not the same one who three hours ago told Artemas he’d have to wait a bit, and then he’d be returned to his body, that while the tech team worked it out, he could go explore Belgrade just as planned. No, this was some other girl who, the moment she looked up, twisted her lips slightly:

– Oh, what are you doing here? Thought all your debts got cleared? I figured you wouldn’t set foot in here again after that message – the receptionist smirked, like they were old friends, and glanced briefly at Paul, raising one brow – Or maybe now you bring a date for company?

Veronika… Artemas… whoever the hell she was now, flinched, like she’d been doused in cold water. And no, it wasn’t just the words — it was the tone. The ease, the casual way it was said. "Debts cleared." What debts? What do you mean “all cleared”? Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, and the words she wanted to throw back — sharp, harsh, the kind Artemas would’ve spat — got stuck in her throat. And Paul was still standing there beside her, slightly turned toward her, and just his nearness twisted her up again.

She stepped forward, feeling the tight jeans stretch over her ass, her breasts bounce slightly, and that distracted her again. But she had to get it together. Now more than ever she had to focus, because this was all so obviously fucked up.

– Look, I’m not… – she started, but stopped, turning her face toward Paul and immediately smiling at him the moment she caught his gaze, then, snapping her eyes shut and forcing herself, she turned back to the girl at the desk, who was still watching her with that sly squint and smile, while Veronika said, just above a whisper – I mean, there must be… some kind of mistake. – leaning closer to the desk girl, she continued – I need to… check the records. I... I...

‘Goddamn it, why can’t I just say it — that I’m Artemas Kincaid,’ rushed through her head like a booming echo, drowned out by the rhythm of her heart pounding like it was trying to burst out of her chest. Her lips were trembling, fingers clutching the edge of the desk, leaving damp prints on the polished surface.

Part 4

– Um… – the girl at the desk shifted slightly and looked at her with a hint of irony, resting her chin on her fingers. – Veronika, come on, you know the rules. Everything’s authorized. All done by procedure. And honestly, you’re lucky. Not every day someone gets their debts wiped. Especially you.

– They already explained everything to you. Debts cleared, the body is yours, just like at birth. Relax already, Veronika. Not everyone gets their debts cleared. Especially you. – She glanced at Paul, then at her clenched fists. – Or did you forget how you begged for a second chance?

‘Second chance?! What the fuck is she talking about?!’ She felt a wave of heat rise from her neck to her cheeks. Her body tensed, ready either to punch someone or collapse sobbing into Paul’s arms, who was standing just a couple steps away, and every breath he took felt louder than the receptionist’s voice.

Suddenly, she wanted to step closer to him. Just come up and maybe touch his hand. His shoulder. Breathe in that scent a little deeper. Press her face into his t-shirt and...

‘Stop. You’re not her. You’re not this. You’re Artemas Kincaid. You’re… you’re an engineer, for fuck’s sake! You… don’t want… a dick…’

But the body did. And her lips were already slightly parted, and her tongue, almost instinctively, brushed the inside of her upper lip. And her hip shifted forward again.

– I’m not… – she began, but the words caught in her throat the moment his hand casually touched her elbow. A spark shot across her skin, making goosebumps flare up in places they’d never been before.

– You okay? – he asked, his voice low, a little husky, sliding down her nerves like a jolt of current.

‘No. It’s a fucking disaster.’ She nodded too fast, too unnaturally, feeling her tank top slide across her sweaty back. Her mind was spinning: ‘Tell him. Tell him you’re not her. That this is a mistake. That you need to go back. Tell him to leave because you can’t say what’s really going on with him around.’ But instead, her lips stretched into a smile, and her hips subtly pushed forward, accentuating the curve of the jeans.

– Everything’s fine, – it came out sweet, almost playful. – Just… technical stuff.

The receptionist rolled her eyes, tapping her tablet:

– The technical stuff’s sorted. You’re free. And by the way – she smirked, glancing at Paul – if you feel like celebrating your… freedom, there’s a place on the corner called “Lavanda Room.” Wanna introduce your date while we’re at it?

Veronika swallowed. Not because of the question. Because of how Paul stood — shoulder nearly brushing hers, and his gaze, wrapping around her softly, but sharp at the same time, and everything inside her reacted like molten caramel pouring under her skin — sticky, slow, unbearably sweet. And her lips… they wanted to smile again, say something flirty, tilt her head, bare her neck. But she held back. Almost.

– This is Paul, – she said, and weirdly, her voice didn’t shake. It sounded almost… natural. Like she wasn’t introducing just an acquaintance, but a man she’d want to curl up next to at night. – We… just met. By chance.

– Coincidence is kind of your thing, babe, – the receptionist snorted, flipping open some file on her tablet. – So, you came to make sure you’re not dreaming? Everything checks out, Veronika Petrovan. ID active. All debts cleared. No rentals, no freezes. You’re free. Enjoy.

– Something wrong? – said Paul, tilting his head slightly, and that look made Veronika want to crawl into a hole. She didn’t want him looking at her like that — like he suspected something.

– No-no… just… all of this is unexpected – she mumbled, offering a faint smile, and was surprised herself at how easily it came. Like her face already knew the routine — lift the corners of the mouth just right, tilt the head slightly, open the eyes a bit more. She acted like she’d rehearsed it a hundred times. Though, to be fair… the body she was in probably had.

Part 5

– Then maybe coffee? I did offer, – he said softly, stepping a little closer, and she nodded almost without thinking.

Because it sounded like salvation. Or, the opposite — a step into total oblivion. But she didn’t care. She just wanted to choose something. Anything was better than standing here like she was caught between a hammer and anvil, between Veronika’s desire and Artemas’s attempts to change something.

They stepped back out into the street. The sun hit her cheeks, and she felt again how her tits pushed against the tank top with every step, how sweat slid between her shoulder blades and down her back — and none of it was just a sensation, it all announced itself with every breath. But this time she wasn’t shaking from it. Almost the opposite. It was like her body had accepted what was happening. Even if her mind clearly hadn’t.

– So… you’ve used BodyPort before? – Paul asked suddenly, his voice warm, with that almost teasing note that made something low in her belly tingle again, spreading heat.

Veronika swallowed and let out a bright, slightly nervous laugh. ‘Fuck, why am I so nervous about this?’ she cursed herself, but in the same second laughed even louder. Bright, like it was all just funny — not her panic-fueled run from reality.

– Well… not exactly, – she tucked her hair behind her ear just to avoid looking him in the eyes, and as they walked down the street with that calm, aimless energy of his, she added: – I just… tried it. Sometimes. Wanted to… get away from myself, I guess. You know how that is.

‘Jesus, Artemas, you’re lying right now. You just want this guy to think you’re someone he could like. Fucking hell, why are you even aware of all this and still doing it?! And seriously, you really think he’ll buy this bullshit? You’re literally acting like some dumb girl right now.’

Of course Paul “bought” it. He nodded. And she felt his hand move. Almost imperceptibly. But she knew. She felt his fingers slide a little closer. One second. Then another. And — his hand covered hers.

Not tightly. Gently. Like he was checking if he had permission. And she… she didn’t just let him. Her fingers closed around his on their own, curling into his. Her heart slammed into her throat. And in that second — she wanted. Wanted him to hold her. To pull her in. To kiss her. To make all of this… stop being something she was ashamed of.

She stepped closer, brushing against his shoulder, her thigh lightly touching his leg. Her body shivered, and she squeezed his hand just to keep from moaning out loud. Her Breasts felt heavy, it was harder to breathe — but… was it good? She could feel her libido like something alive, like waves under her skin — low, warm, pulsing.

‘God… God… This isn’t me, it’s the body. It’s her hormones. It’s her desire. Not mine. I don’t want… I don’t want this…’

But fuck, she wanted him to look at her again. Like before — that slight squint, that lazy spark in his eyes. The kind that made her body arch, made her knees weak, made her fingers want to grab his wrist not to push him away, but to pull him closer.

– I’m glad we met – he said quietly, leaning in, his breath brushing her ear. She shivered. And didn’t even try to pretend it was the wind.

– I… me too, – she whispered, feeling her lips tremble.

And in that moment she realized — if she didn’t go back into BodyPort right now, it was all going to get even more complicated...