Morning Chat

— Coffee? — rumbled a man's deep voice, and Jake flinched. A rough, slightly hoarse voice, the one he used to call his own, was now brusquely offering him coffee. He looked up, trying to avoid glancing at his former body, and once again met Sarah’s gaze. Or what used to be Sarah. Now, it was Jake — a confident, cold stare on his own face, with the faintest hint of a sneer. Meanwhile, he... he was in her body, struggling to breathe, weighed down by an eight-month pregnant belly. The finish line of pregnancy — his burden now.

— Come here, — she snapped her fingers, summoning him with a casual, slightly contemptuous gesture that made his blood boil. He’d used to treat her this way himself. But now he was the one standing by the kitchen counter, in a loose dress, carrying the child she was supposed to bear, a child that never should have existed if only...

— Sarah, — he muttered, looking away, not wanting to meet the mocking glint in her eyes. — Stop it, yeah? Don’t start this so early... — he mumbled, watching as she smirked, shaking her head. Then she stood and strolled over to him, with an unnerving confidence.

— Look at you, lazy ass, — she sneered, putting a hand on his stomach and pressing lightly. Jake flinched. — Don’t jump! I’m not going to torment you today, — Sarah slid her hand over his round belly, and Jake noticed a flicker in her eyes. A warm, almost tender look, that disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by her mocking smile. — Though I do love the way you handle those blowjobs.

Jake recoiled, his jaw clenched. Memories surged back so fiercely that even the unfamiliar weight of his belly faded. He remembered the first time she insisted on it, grabbing his shoulder and refusing to let go until he agreed, her gaze narrowed, as if testing his limits. This was nearly two months into their switch. Back then, he was still bolder, but Sarah was growing colder, harsher. He had tried to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, if he gave in, she would soften, relent, want to return to her old life. By then, they both knew their return to their original bodies depended on Sarah climaxing inside his new body, just like that unfortunate night when he’d gone at her without asking.

And Sarah seemed to like it. At first, as if testing him, she made him do it, almost in revenge, seeing how far he’d go. But soon it became more than that, and she no longer asked — she demanded. Every week, sometimes more often, she pushed him to do it, watching him turn red, feeling each surge of shame and humiliation. Now, it was nearly a daily routine, something she barely noticed anymore.

‘Should’ve just gotten an abortion back then and...’ — the thought kept coming to Jake. When his belly first began to swell and they realized he was pregnant, Sarah had cut him off coldly, without the slightest hint of the usual mocking tone, simply saying, “We’re keeping it.” Her decision. She had looked at him, her eyes cold. “You want to go back? Then tough luck, sweetie, you’ll have to wait until the pregnancy’s over, and I’ll make sure I fuck you myself. But if you try to leave... well, don’t count on it,” she’d added, her voice laced with a clear threat. Then, as if remembering something at the last moment, she’d thrown in, “And until this little one is born, I can’t do anything — or we lose the chance to switch back.”

— What’s with the look? Dreaming about more of my praise for those mouth skills of yours? — Sarah’s sneer snapped him back, as she ran a finger over his — Jake’s — chin. She leaned in closer, and Jake felt the warm breath of his former body on his ear.

— Go to hell, Sarah, — he muttered, feeling a rush of anger and shame churning inside. Sarah's face twisted in a snarl, and she suddenly grabbed his chin, gripping his wrist with her other hand, pinning him against the counter.

— Need a lesson in respect? — Sarah's voice was tight, seething, as if she was barely holding back her irritation. — All those years... — she growled, pausing, her breath echoing through the kitchen. — Know your place, woman. — Her grip on his wrist tightened, and her gaze pierced him, cold and unyielding. Everything he’d ever spat at her in a rage came back like a boomerang, only this time, loaded with a whole new weight and force. He felt small, weak, completely at her mercy.

— I... — he stammered, trying to pull his hand away, but the words caught in his throat. He didn’t want to anger her now, knew it was pointless, knew Sarah was stronger now, in every way. This body swap had given her everything she seemed to have wanted, especially in their marriage. Freedom. Strength. Total control over their relationship. She wasn’t afraid of him anymore. Worse, she seemed to relish every second of it. But Jake managed to swallow the lump in his throat and summoned the last shreds of his courage. He had to say it now, while Sarah... while this person who used to be him was still here.

— Listen, Sarah, — he started softly, trying to sound convincing. — We need to talk about the swap. Let’s figure something out in advance... for after the baby’s born.

Sarah paused, as though considering his words, and for a moment, silence filled the room. Then, she laughed — harsh, almost animalistic, sending an icy chill down his spine.

— There’s no going back, you hear me? — she spat, grinning mockingly. — Still holding onto hope? Pathetic. You’re as naive as some dumb, daydreaming girl. — She finished the sentence with a look that pierced through him, as though lost in thought.

Jake closed his eyes, willing himself not to show how deeply the words cut. Gathering his thoughts, he muttered softly,

— Sarah, we had an agreement... you promised, — he said in a choked voice, shrinking inwardly from the pain.

— What? — Her face tensed immediately, and she let go of his chin, but continued glaring coldly. — Enough of this ‘Sarah,’ got it? Don’t call me that, you understand? It’s... strange when you do. Just stop it. I’m Jake now. Everyone else calls me Jake, and they call you Sarah. — She raised an eyebrow, a cruel smile flashing in her eyes. — Kind of funny to call a pregnant woman Jake, especially one as clumsy as you.

Jake swallowed, feeling tears prickling at his eyes. He hated how often he felt this way now, helpless tears his only release in this foreign body. But he held back, clenching his jaw, pushing down the lump in his throat.

— You... you promised. You even said when the baby’s born... — his voice faltered, and he turned away, not wanting to see that mocking, harsh expression on his former face.

— Boo-hoo, ‘promised,’ — she mocked, curling her lips in disgust. — Whining again? You’re pathetic, Sarah. I thought you had some backbone, but I guess I was wrong.

— Sarah... — Jake tried to quiet her, but his voice came out plaintive, as though even his intonation was restrained by this foreign body.

— Talking to yourself? — she taunted, leaning closer. — Really, you’re still calling me ‘Sarah’? Or are your little bird brain cells just slow on the uptake? — She jabbed him in the shoulder, showing exactly how she thought he should act.

— Sa... — he stopped, swallowing, feeling his cheeks burn with shame. — Jake... I... — he choked out, feeling tears well up, closing off his throat. — The baby... — he whispered, clinging desperately to his last hope.

Sarah looked at him, disinterested, and with a careless frown, as though discussing the weather, she said,

— The baby? Ha! — Sarah snorted, shaking her head. — Another useless mouth to feed, like I don’t have enough trouble with you lying around here while I work. Should’ve gotten an abortion, — she threw out, her brow furrowed. — But since we’re already here, no point regretting it. — She squinted at him, adding coldly, — You could at least be grateful that I’m the one carrying everything on my shoulders while you sit here, fattening up.

Jake gripped the edge of the counter, feeling the frost of her words settle in his chest, his mind near breaking. He was on the verge of an outburst but forced himself to hold back.

Meanwhile, Sarah took a sip of coffee, setting the cup down with feigned carelessness before glancing at the clock and sighing irritably.

— And now, thanks to you, I might even be late for work, — she muttered, reaching for the breakfast he’d prepared. She stuffed a bite into her mouth, then grimaced, barely swallowing it. — God, Sarah, can’t you cook right? This bland crap, again...

Jake, watching his former body, clenched his fists silently. There was no point in arguing — she’d always find a way to tear him down.

— Listen up, — Sarah, or rather "Jake" now, turned to him, catching his tense look. — I have a meeting around noon, and I want you to... — She paused, narrowing her eyes with a predatory gleam. — Actually, wait, I've got a better idea.

Jake froze, recognizing the look on her face and knowing it wouldn’t be anything good.

— You’re going to stay home and clean everything. And then... — she smirked — make a proper dinner. Not whatever this is, — she nodded at the plate. — No excuses, got it?

— Yeah, — he ground out through clenched teeth, feeling the heat of anger rise in him.

— Yeah, what? — Sarah leaned closer, her eyes flashing dangerously, her face inches from his.

— Yeah, Jake, — he muttered, barely audible, fighting the urge to turn and walk out.

Satisfied, she nodded and headed for the door. Just as she opened it, she turned back and threw over her shoulder:

— Oh, and make sure everything’s perfect by the time I get back.