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Swap

Copyright© 2009 by Ms. Friday

Chapter 22

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 22 - What would you do if suddenly your mind was transferred to another body? Did the mind that inhabited that body end up in yours? Were they swapped? How would you feel if this happened to you more than once? Say you're a male, but your mind is put into a female body, could you cope? How about your mind ending up in the body of a drug addict?

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Body Swap   Paranormal   Masturbation   Slow  

The rapist was dead. My last kick had broken his neck, not his jaw. I removed the two fingers I'd placed at the side of his neck and said, "He's dead." I was still on the phone with the 911 operator. After I'd told her that the rapist might be dead, she'd asked me to check.

Sue was still dazed. I suspected a serious concussion and prayed silently that the rapist's violent blow had not caused brain damage.

"My friend needs me," I said to the operator and hung up. I went to Sue, but I also dialed Sherry's cell phone number. She didn't answer the call right away. Her cell phone was probably in her purse.

When she finally said hello, I said, "I'm going to need your services as a defense lawyer again."

"Huh?" she said.

I quickly related what had happened.

"Where are you?" she said.

"In the woods to the right of the parking lot somewhere," I said, suddenly feeling light-headed.

"How is Sue?" she said. From the sound of Sherry's voice, I figured she was up and moving.

"Dazed. Out of it. A concussion, probably. And I'm getting light-headed. I'm losing blood. The sick creep cut me." My left leg below the cut close to my knee was covered in blood. I don't know why, but until that moment, I'd ignored the wound.

"Stay awake," Sherry said. "Angela and I are coming to you. You'll need to be conscious to guide us."

"I can do that," I said, but I wasn't as positive as I tried to sound. I knew one thing for sure. I needed to stop the bleeding. I looked around for something to use as a tourniquet. The dead rapist was wearing a belt. It was already unbuckled. I ripped the belt away from his pants, which was a struggle. When it was finally free, I wrapped my leg with it above the cut and tightened it as much as I could.

"Make some noise, Debra," Shelly said when I picked up the cell phone.

"Help!" I screamed as loud as I could, covering the mouthpiece on the phone. Pretty good lungs, I thought inanely. "Help!"

"I hear you," Sherry said. "Keep screaming."

I did until my throat was sore. The screaming served two purposes. The sounds kept Sue awake, which was a good thing for a concussion victim, I'd read somewhere. And Sherry and Angela found us. Not a moment too soon, either. My world turned black as they ran into the clearing.


I did not wake up in a hospital in a different body. Thank you Hector. I regained consciousness in an ambulance. Sherry was with me. And Sue. The EMT guy was working on her. I was being fed some blood and my leg was bandaged, I noticed. I also felt a bandage on my face.

"Ah, you're back among the living," Sherry said.

"How's Sue?" I croaked.

"A concussion, like you said," Sherry said. "I called your Dad. He knew your blood type. He and your mother will meet us at the hospital."

It was a long night. Sue's concussion was serious. There was swelling on her brain. They had to operate to relieve the pressure.

At my mother's insistence, a plastic surgeon stitched up the cut on my leg, not one of the emergency room doctors. The tree limb had scratched my face. The plastic surgeon worked on that wound, too. When my injuries had been repaired, I insisted on being driven to Sue's house to retrieve Candy. With the pain medication I'd been given, I couldn't drive myself. Mother drove me. I was glad about that. Mom had a calming effect on the little girl. We took Candy back to the hospital with us.

During the long wait while the surgeons operated on Sue, the police interviewed me. Sherry sat by my side during the interview, but she wasn't needed. The police didn't charge me with any crime, just the opposite. The female police officer who interviewed me congratulated me for stopping the rapist. "Men like that don't deserve to be on the same planet with the rest of us," she said. Her male partner grunted his concurrence.

About five in the morning, the surgeon walked into the waiting room. He looked like he'd been rode hard and put away wet.

"I've relieved the pressure," he said. "With a little luck, she'll make it."

"When can I see her?" I asked.

"Are you family?"

"No, she's my friend ... my lover. I don't think she has any family here, except her daughter." I nodded toward Candy. She was sleeping on my mother's lap. "She has a father and a brother. They have a farm near Pocatello, Idaho. I don't know how to contact them, and I don't know her maiden name." That's when it dawned on me that Stan would know. Among the papers she filled out to work for him, Sue would have listed an emergency phone number and name of the person to call. I told the doctor about Stan and said I'd call him right away.

"Can I see her?" I asked again.

"She's in a coma," he said. "That's normal after the kind of surgery she underwent. I don't expect her to regain consciousness until later this morning or early afternoon. Right now, she's in intensive care, and she'll remain there until she comes out of the coma."

"Will there be any brain damage?" I asked with trepidation.

He shrugged and said, "We won't know until she regains consciousness, but the prognosis is good. I think you folks should go home and get some sleep. Leave your phone number, and we'll call you when the patient comes out of the coma."

"Was she raped?" I asked.

"I saw no evidence that indicated that she'd been raped," he said. "He hit her, probably with the butt of his knife, and cut her neck slightly, but I don't think he raped her.

At least there was one positive element to the miserable situation.

I called Stan, waking him up. After I told him what had happened and why I'd called him, he said he'd go to the office immediately to check Sue's personnel file.

"I'll call you as soon as I find something. Do you want me to call her father, or... ?

"I'll call him," I said.

"What about Candy?" he asked.

"She's with us. My mother is taking care of her."

We were on the way home when Stan called back. Sue's maiden name was Johnson. I called Henry Johnson's phone number, waking him up like I did with Stan. I didn't pull any punches. I told him that Sue had been attacked by a rapist. "He was stopped before he could rape her, but she has a concussion, Mr. Johnson. They had to operate. Right now, she's in a coma in intensive care. The surgeon told me that she should come out of the coma late morning or early afternoon today."

"Any brain damage?" he asked.

"The surgeon couldn't or wouldn't say. He says her prognosis is good."

"What about Candy? What about my little granddaughter?"

"She's with my mother, sleeping right now. Please know that we'll take very good care of her, Mr. Johnson."

"All right," he said. "I'll catch the first flight out of Pocatello, fly to Phoenix, and catch a puddle jumper to Sedona. It'll take a while. I'll let you know my schedule."

I gave him my cell phone number. "Someone will meet you at the airport in Sedona," I promised.

He gave me his cell phone number and asked for the name of the surgeon and the phone number of the hospital. I checked my notes and read the information he asked for into the phone.

He said, "Please call me if there's any change in Sue's condition while I'm en route."

"I will," I said, added a goodbye and hung up.

I was asleep when the surgeon called. Dad woke me up. "Sue came out of the coma. She's asking for Candy and you."

I jumped out of bed, forgetting that I was naked, which embarrassed Dad, but I noticed he didn't look away. I apologized perfunctorily, limped on one foot to the bathroom, which had to be quite a sight with my boobs flopping around, spent ten minutes trying to make myself look presentable, got dressed, hobbled on crutches to the van, and Dad drove us away toward the hospital."

"My mommy waked up," Candy said.

"She sure did, sweet thing," my mother said.

"Is she going to be all right?" the girl said, her voice concerned and fearful.

"The doctor thinks she'll get better," I said.

I called Henry Johnson. He must have had his cell phone in his hand. He answered before the first ring ended. I told him that Sue had come out of the coma and was asking for Candy. "We're on the way to the hospital right now. Candy is awake. Would you like to speak with her?"

"I sure would," he said.

I handed my cell phone to Candy and said, "It's your Grandfather Johnson."

She took the phone and said, "Hi, Grandpa. This is Candy Thomas speaking."

Mom and I grinned at her memorized greeting, but as I listened to Candy's side of the conversation, my grin went away and tears stung my eyes. Candy reminded me so much of my little daughter.

Piper I love you and miss you, I said silently.

My mother misunderstood the source of my tears. She squeezed my hand and said, "Sue will be all right."

When Henry Johnson finished talking with his granddaughter, Candy returned my telephone, and Henry gave me his schedule. He'd be flying in on Air Sedona, arriving at three o'clock that afternoon.


I sat with sterilized paper clothes over my regular clothes, a hospital mask over my nose and mouth, paper shoes over by feet, and surgical gloves on my hands. I'd tried to speak with Sue's surgeon before visiting her but was told he wasn't in the hospital.

"He'll be in for rounds at three o'clock," the nurse said. The nurse wouldn't or couldn't comment on my query about possible brain damage.

When Sue opened her eyes, she looked around the room without moving her head and spied me sitting next to the bed. She smiled. It was a sickly smile, but a smile nonetheless. Her head and neck were swathed in bandages. It was obvious that they'd shaved her head. I grieved for the loss of her long, dark hair, and remembered how it tickled my cheek when I nuzzled my face in her sensuous neck.

"Hi, kiddo," I said. "The nurse says I can't stay long, and she doesn't want you trying to talk yet. I don't know why, but it doesn't matter. I'll do the talking for both of us. We picked up Candy last evening. My mother is taking very good care of her, so you don't need to worry about her. I called Stan, and he gave me your father's phone number. I called him. He'll be flying in about three o'clock this afternoon. Dad will pick him up at the airport and drive him to the hospital so he can see you."

I paused briefly and then said, "Oh, I want to hug you so much, Sue, but I can't. I'm not supposed to touch you. Did they tell you what happened to you? Maybe they did, but they don't know everything. To start with, you weren't raped. I stopped the sick brute before he could rape you, but I didn't get to you before he hit you. He gave you a concussion, a serious concussion, Sue. The surgeon thinks he hit you with the but-end of his knife. Anyway, they had to perform emergency surgery to reduce the swelling on your brain. The surgeon told me that your prognosis is good. So, try real hard to make yourself better, Sue. I need to hold you in my arms again."

The nurse came in and told me my time was up. I blew Sue a kiss, waved goodbye, and hobbled from the room. I didn't want her to see me on crutches, so I'd left them leaning against the wall outside her room. I waited for the nurse to come out of her room. When I saw her walk through the door, I said, "When may her daughter see her?"

The nurse frowned. "Maybe this evening," she said.

"Why the delay?"

"The little girl might start crying, which would upset her mother. The patient needs more recovery time before facing that kind of trauma."

"She's a pretty smart little girl. What if she promises not to cry? What if she promises to smile and talk about happy things?" I said.

"Maybe this evening," the nurse said. "The patient..."

"The patient's name is Sue, nurse," I said. "Please stop referring to her as the patient."

"I have found, young lady, that I can do a better job if I don't make an emotional connection with my patients," she said, her voice tinged with anger.

The last thing I wanted was to have Sue's nurse upset with me. "I apologize," I said sincerely. Who was I to tell this woman how to do her job?

"It's just that my patients are with me only a short time. When they improve, they're moved to a different ward, a ward where the nurses will call her by name."

"I understand," I said.

"About the little girl, I'll ask the doctor about letting her see her mother. As I told you earlier, the doctor will be dropping by around three o'clock this afternoon. Check back with me then."

"I will, and thank you. I misjudged you. I can see that you're very good at your job."

"Thank you," she said.


Henry Johnson did not look like a farmer. He was the antithesis of a farmer. He looked more like a marine than a farmer. He was tall and slim, but muscular, with salt-and-pepper hair trimmed into a military cut. He was fifty-five, maybe, six-two or —three, and handsome in a Sean Connery kind of way. He wore a navy suit, white shirt and power tie.

When Dad started to introduce me, Henry took me in his arms and pulled me into a hug. It was a thank-you hug. "Thank you for saving my daughter's life," he said, pushed me away from him and looked me up and down. "You don't look tough enough to take out a man wielding a knife."

"He was at a disadvantage," I said. "I caught him with his pants down."

Henry huffed out a laugh. "You'll do, young lady; you'll do. Let's go find Sue's doctor. I talked with him, by the way. He doesn't think there is any brain damage."

I suddenly felt giddy. I'm sure my smile lit up the room. "That is very good news, Mr. Johnson."

"Hank, my name is Hank. Got it?" he said, leaving no room for disagreement.

"Got it," I said. I liked Hank Johnson. He was a man's man without being overbearing about it.

I reached for my crutches and slipped them under my arms.

"Your father told me that you'd been injured," Hank said to me. "How badly were you hurt?"

"A few stitches is all," I said. "I'm on crutches because my doctor doesn't want to me stress his needle work."

"A few!" Dad exclaimed. "Seventy stitches is more than a few?"

"Grandpa! Grandpa!" a little girl squealed.

I turned to the sound of Candy's excited voice. Her legs were churning just like Piper's churned when she saw me. I couldn't help it. Tears flooded my eyes. The little girl ran into her grandfather's arms. He'd knelt, just like I'd knelt for Piper. Then he stood up holding her tight and spun around and around.

"A bad man hurt Mommy, Grandpa," Candy said.

Get a grip, I told myself and squared my shoulders, sniffing and swallowing to gain some control. I spotted a ladies room to my right. "Dad, I'm going to the ladies room," I said without looking at him. Hank and Candy's reunion would give me the time to compose myself.

No such luck, my mother followed me into the ladies room.

"What's the matter, honey?" she said.

"I'm not sure," I said and sniffed. "Seeing Hank and Candy's love for each other made me tear up. I'll be okay. Just give me a minute." I turned on the water to wash my face. As a man I'd been sentimental but rarely cried. Crying at the least little thing was just one more load I had to haul as a woman, I decided. The cool water on my face refreshed me, but after I dried my hands and face I had to repair my makeup. Crap! A little mascara here, a little there, some blush on my cheeks, a new coat of lipstick, a daub with a tissue, and I was good to go.

Sue was vastly improved, and seeing Candy and her father buoyed her spirits that much more. She thanked me for saving her life.

"Ah, shucks, ma'am," I said. "Tweren't nothin'."

She laughed, and then winced.

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