Keeping It For Her

 

Sauce: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/1148557

Text:

I was always curious about the female body, but not enough that I’d want to keep one for myself. These days it was possible for people to swap bodies without too much effort, and there were some people who would try to run off with your body, especially if you were attractive. Even so, people were willing to risk it for the chance to see life from the other side. It was considered safest for the girl to choose someone to swap with—like if you ask a stranger to watch your bag. I had a reputation for being a really responsible person, but was still surprised when my acquaintance Leila wanted to borrow my body—for a whole month—saying that she wanted to travel the world. But with thoughts of her hot body circulating in my mind, I started warming up to the idea. I became eager, even impatient to do it.

She had a list of things that I had to do. I had to get familiar with all of her feminine beauty products, and spend hours every day making sure that her body was well maintained. And she wanted me to stay on a strict diet. The idea of being trusted with something like this was exciting to me. I thought it would be fun to learn about all these things that I never got to experience myself.

So that’s what I did. Every morning, I diligently picked over her face and combed through every strand of her long hair. In the evenings I took long baths, relaxing and playing with her hair in the water, and tying it up before going to bed so it wouldn’t get tangled. I made sure to put on her favorite lotion to keep her skin from getting wrinkled. I did it all at my own place, of course—there was no need to keep body swapping a secret unless you were doing something bad. I noticed that my bathroom was becoming cleaner and more organized. I cleaned up the rest of my place as well. I made a note that I was going to take better care of myself when this was done.

As I got more familiar with her body, the reality of the chore set in. Her hair, her breasts, her butt, even her nails started to feel heavier, like they were weighing me down more and more. Still I stuck to the schedule, making sure not to rush through it or let the quality go down. It wasn’t because I loved it anymore, but because it had become routine, and I thought that if I let myself slip once that I would break these habits. But I didn’t hate it. It was like school, or work—once I was in the middle of it and got lost in my thoughts, I could still enjoy it.

A month passed. Two months. I wasn’t keeping good track of the days. I was getting over my interest with this body, but deep inside, I wasn’t ready for it to end yet. But it would have to end someday. I let that knowledge comfort me.

One late evening while crawling out of the shower, I got a text from a strange number.

"I’m sorry but I’m keeping your body. Actually I knew since day one that I wanted to stay like this. I thought that you might still be taking care of that body. You don’t need to worry about it anymore."

I walked to the mirror, grabbed a towel, and carefully started the long process of drying my hair.