I, Copy (Preview)

A young man uses nanobots to transform himself into an exact copy of a family friend and steal her life in I, Copy available on Smashwords, Amazon or Body Swap Stories.

Heather is older than Patrick and with an exquisite body. She’s everything Patrick is not: confident, sexy, accomplished. So when she asks Patrick to house sit while she goes away for six weeks it’s the perfect opportunity for Patrick to use technology he swiped from his dad’s office to turn himself into a perfect copy of Heather.

With Heather away Patrick moves into her life, enjoying everything about her taut dancer’s body from the silky feel of pantyhose against his skin to the amazing sensations when he pleasures himself. He gradually assumes more and more of her role, going into the company she owns and fooling everyone with his imitation of her. He’s surprised to find himself re-igniting the passion between Heather and a former lover and soon teases the older man to fulfill Patrick’s aching lust.

Will Patrick ever go back to his old life? Or will he find a way to keep his new life forever?

Patrick shielded his eyes from the sun as Heather threw open the ornate set of glass doors leading out to her immense backyard garden. The scent of rose and honeysuckle filled the air as Patrick followed her out onto the patio.

“The gardener comes out once a week so if you see an old man out here that’s Javier. No need to call the police,” Heather explained. She gestured to a corner of the garden, the gold rings on her fingers sparkling in the sun. “This sprinkler has been acting up and will sometimes spray the window. I’ve been meaning to have a man out here to fix it but—”.

Heather’s phone beeped in her hand. She peered down at it and sighed. “One second,” she said to Patrick as she began typing away furiously with both thumbs.

Patrick nodded and kept his hands clasped behind his back. He looked around the garden, admiring the sun-dappled lawn and the neatly trimmed trees surrounding it. Yet of all the beauty out here his gaze kept drifting back to Heather. She ignored him, her nose buried in her phone, which gave him time to admire her. He’d always been fascinated and a bit jealous of her.

She was in her early forties and still had the petite frame that had enabled her success as a ballet dancer. A sky-blue caftan dress draped down her form, ending just below her calves. When she walked, Patrick caught a peak of her well-toned legs, still lean and powerful after all these years. She glided effortlessly through her huge house like the talented performer she used to be.

Heather hit ‘send’ and looked up at Patrick with her startling green eyes. “Sorry. Where was I?”

“The sprinkler,” Patrick replied.

“Right. Don’t open these doors if it sprays the window or you’ll soak the entire floor. Come this way.”

She gestured imperiously and turned without waiting for Patrick. She had such confidence as she glided back into the house. Just before she stepped back inside a light breeze kicked up some locks of her shoulder length auburn hair and ruffled her dress. It clung lightly to her petite form, outlining her incredible buttocks. She smoothed her hair back down over one dainty ear, just over the scar from her most recent plastic surgery, as she proceeded back through the kitchen.

Movement in the corner of the room caught Patrick’s eye and he turned just in time to see a black flash dart under the kitchen table.

“Ah, yes,” Heather laughed, “There’s Sphinx. He’s a fraidy cat in the most literal sense. Terrified of strangers. I don’t expect you’ll see him much.”

Patrick bent and peered under the table. The cat’s huge yellow eyes reflected back at him, body tensed and one paw lifted in the air, ready to run should Patrick come any nearer. Patrick had already been shown where the cat food and the litter box were and was assured that Sphinx would come around once he saw who was in charge of the food.

As they proceeded into the living room Patrick shoved his hands into the pockets of the jeans that hung from his scrawny hips. He clutched the vial of nanobot dust in one hand and drew it out. His palms were sweaty with anticipation and he kept his hands behind his back so he could untwist the top of the small vial while Heather showed him around the rest of the house.

“No parties while I’m gone,” Heather said over her shoulder.

“Of course,” Patrick replied dutifully.

“And if you have friends—” Heather was again interrupted by her phone.

She paused in the middle of the dark wood-paneled living room, beside the antique couch, and typed out another message on her phone. This should have been Patrick’s chance to sprinkle the dust on her but he was captured by nostalgia for the room.

Heather had known Patrick’s dad since forever and they acted like siblings. Heather used to joke that she was Patrick’s surrogate aunt. When Patrick was young, back when his mother was alive, Heather used to babysit him in this very house. Back then she’d just been getting her pantyhose business together. Though her business would soon go on to rival Spanx in sales and be set up in a huge corporate office in downtown Chicago, back then Heather was the owner, sole employee, spokesperson, photographer and model. She leveraged her fame on the stage to get her business off the ground.

Patrick still had vivid memories of watching Heather friend framed by the living room doors as she modelled her pantyhose and took her own promotional pictures. The camera flashed every time she moved as she posed her sheer pantyhose-clad legs this way and that, flexing and bending. Patrick was smitten with her legs from an early age, in particular the way she rolled the sheer pantyhose material up each leg until they clasped her tight body, making her calves and her thighs appear oh-so-shiny and smooth. A few times Heather had seen him gaping at her and invited him over.

“Want to feel them?” Heather laughed. “They’re very soft.”

It was a completely innocent request at the time and Patrick shuffled over to her and ran his hands up her leg before pinching the material between his fingers. It was so soft and slick. He’d been too young to understand his attraction to her pantyhose back then. All he knew was that he was drawn to it like nothing he’d ever known.

By the time he was eighteen years old he understood his feelings. The mix of desire, envy and want that sat like a hot ball of lead in his stomach whenever Heather walked past in those pantyhose of hers. Her legs. Her hips. Her butt. Her breasts. Her face. Her attitude. He wanted it all.

By the time Patrick shook off those memories Heather had finished typing. “Where was I?”

“Something about friends?” Patrick suggested.

“Right. If you have friends over please have them remove their shoes before entering. The maid only comes once a week and if dirt sits there for that long it’s liable to become permanent.”

The moved down the hallway and up the stairs, Heather’s wiggling butt going ahead of Patrick, calling to him like a siren. He wanted to have it, to feel what it was like as it swayed back and forth seductively with each step, to be able to run his hand down that taut backside whenever he wished. And he would have it if only he could stay focused and use the nanobots.

Patrick’s father worked in a science lab and Patrick visited him often. Patrick was quick to pick up the concepts and his dad’s colleagues loved to explain their inventions to him. They probably thought most of what they said went right over his head but Patrick understood it all. Or enough, anyway. That was why he swiped the nanobots and copied the program to use them onto his phone. It was totally illegal but completely worth it to enact his desires. Because as long as Patrick had remembered, he’d wanted to become Heather.

Heather showed him where the extra linens were kept and then ushered him into the master bedroom. “This is all yours. I’ve cleaned out some space in the closet for you.”

She yanked open the door to the huge walk-in robe and danced inside before flicking on the light. Among the rows of dresses and blouses and tops and pants and pantsuits hanging from the closet there was a narrow empty space for Patrick’s clothes, along with some empty drawers.

Heather’s phone chimed yet again and she looked down at it with another heavy sigh. Patrick shuffled around behind her, pretending to look at all the clothes as he unscrewed the vial. While Heather remained bent over her phone Patrick reached down and tipped the silver dust containing the nanobots on to her neck. He then pulled out his phone and set the nanobots to collect her bio-data.

Heather absently scratched at the back of her neck before shivering slightly as the nanobots ran over her body, taking minute samples of her DNA and copying every bit of her.

Heather finished typing out her message and slid her phone closed. “That’s it, I’m leaving this damn thing here. They can figure this shit out on their own. I had to. Here, please take it before I change my mind.” She handed him her phone.

As they headed back downstairs Patrick spoke up from behind Heather. “You’ll be gone for a month, right?”

“Six weeks. Back on April twenty-third. Please don’t enjoy my house too much because you’ll have to leave when I return,” Heather laughed.

Patrick chuckled politely. They reached the bottom of the stairs, where the last of Heather’s luggage sat. A driver hefted it up and carried it down the front porch to a waiting town car.

“Here are the keys,” Heather said, dropping a small set of keys into Patrick’s hand. “And I think that’s it. Security code and internet password are on the fridge. Anything else?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, then, thank you for house sitting and I’ll see you in six weeks.”

She held her arms out for a hug. As Patrick embraced her he tapped the sensor on the bottom of the vial that called back the nanobots. He felt Heather shiver as they raced back up her body and filled the vial while he clasped his body to hers.

Patrick was a head taller than her and even though she seemed like a tiny woman she was surprisingly solid, particularly her breast implants. They were a size D from memory. The solid lumps pressed against Patrick’s chest in a most inviting way.

She pulled away and Patrick looked into Heather’s merry green eyes. “Have a good trip.”

“Thank you.”

She proceeded down the steps and into the waiting car. Patrick waved to her from the porch as the car drove out of the driveway and away down the street. He waited on the porch for a few minutes, his anticipating mounting, just to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. He ran his hand nervously through his messy brown hair.

It felt so much calmer when Heather was gone. She was always such a flurry of activity. Patrick wondered if he could ever hope to act the tiniest bit like her and even fool one person, much less everyone in her life.

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