Welcome to

I let people rent my meatsuit (and I can’t remember it) AMA

Hi there! I'm a 23-year-old woman, renting out my body to pay for medical school. I work with an agency that uses neuralink implants to let my renters see through my eyes, control my actions, and essentially live in my skin while I'm unconscious. Once their session is over, I wake up without any recollection of what they've done. It's like I was asleep or in a coma, but meanwhile my body was up and about doing things. The industry calls us 'bodies for rent' or 'meatsuits', though some of us prefer to be known as 'surrogates'.

It sounds scary, but it's completely safe, regulated, and - dare I say it - kinda fun. Let's get into all the gritty realities of the renting industry. Ask me anything!

How does it feel when you wake up after being 'rented'? Any physical fatigue?

Great question! It's a bit like waking up from a deep sleep. There's a period of disorientation, but that clears up quickly. As for physical fatigue, it depends on what my body has been doing. If my renter had been doing strenuous activities, then yes, I might feel a little worn out.

Aren't you afraid that someone might misuse your body?

That's a common concern, but the industry has safeguards in place. Renters sign contracts agreeing not to harm the body or engage in illegal activities. Plus, there's constant monitoring by a neutral third party during the rental period. If anything suspicious happens, they can shut down the session.

How much can you make in this business?

It varies depending on factors like the duration of the session, what the renter plans to do, and even the desirability of the surrogate. I make a comfortable amount, enough to pay my medical school tuition and living expenses.

Can you sense anything while being rented? Any kind of dreams?

Not at all. It's like being in a very deep sleep, without dreams. I wake up completely blank, with no memory or sensation from the rental period.

Do people ever have sex or masturbate when they rent you?

Yes, of course, it’s part of the job. I basically expect more often than not to have the renter touch me. It’s not as bad as it sounds – it’s basically my hand doing it, after all. Sometimes I feel a little sore after – especially when I’m rented by guys, who tend to be a bit less gentle with my body – but nothing serious.

Do your friends and family know about this? How do they feel?

Yes, they know, and it took some time for them to understand. They were concerned at first, but they've seen how regulated and safe it is, and how it's helping me achieve my dream of becoming a doctor. So, they're supportive now!

How did you get into this business?

I stumbled upon an advertisement and was intrigued. I did my research, understood the risks and benefits, and decided it was a viable way to finance my medical studies. And here I am!

Any advice for someone considering becoming a surrogate?

Do your homework. Understand the pros and cons. Consider the physical and mental aspects - remember, your body might be doing things you're not used to. Also, ensure you're working with a reputable company. There are sketchy operators out there.

What was your most memorable experience after waking up from a rental period?

There was this one time when I woke up in a beautiful dress, covered in glitter and glam, standing in the middle of what seemed to be a high-end fashion event. The smooth silk of the dress hugged my body, contrasting starkly against the cold, air-conditioned atmosphere of the venue. The dress was a stunning shade of midnight blue, matching the color of my eyes, and it was sprinkled with silver glitters, twinkling as they caught the spotlights. High heels elongated my petite frame, although they made my feet ache a bit. People were clapping and cheering, and I had this feeling of exhilaration that lingered even after the confusion had passed.

The aroma of rich perfume and champagne wafted through the air, and my lips tasted faintly of a delicate canapé. My hands were a little shaky from the adrenaline, and I felt the cool touch of a glass of bubbly in my right hand. I could tell by the appreciative eyes and stunned silence that my renter had just pulled off a fantastic runway walk.

I felt strangely empowered, stepping out of my usual comfort zone of t-shirts, jeans, and tennis shoes, into this glamorous world of fashion, something I'd never dare to do on my own. The moment felt almost surreal, like a scene straight out of a movie. I loved the feeling of confidence, of owning the room. Even though it wasn't me who had strutted down the catwalk, a small part of that boldness lingered, reminding me of my own potential.

Have you ever felt violated or uneasy after a rental session?

Yes, there have been moments of discomfort. One time, I woke up in a very crowded place, in the middle of a music festival. I’m a bit of an introvert, so waking up in such a noisy, chaotic environment was quite jarring. My body was adorned in a loose crop top, denim shorts, and a floral headband – typical festival attire, but it felt strange since I usually prefer more conservative clothing. My hair, normally tied up in a neat bun, was let loose and felt messy with dried sweat and probably some beer someone had spilled.

I could still feel the throb of the loud music in my ears, the vibrations settling into my body, like a low hum beneath my skin. My feet ached from dancing, my throat was parched, and there was a residual taste of beer and cheap festival food on my tongue. My hands were stained with neon paint, evidence of the craziness of the night. The faint smell of sweat, alcohol, and smoke clung to my skin, making me feel a bit dirty.

I remember feeling lost and out of place among the sea of enthusiastic festival-goers. Although the monitors had ended the rental as soon as I started to regain consciousness, the sudden shift from unconscious tranquility to overwhelming sensory stimulation was a shock. I felt a twinge of unease, realizing how vulnerable I was during these rentals, but it also reminded me of the importance of trust in this profession.

Have you ever considered renting out your body for more extended periods, like a week or a month?

I've given it some thought, but there are practical and emotional challenges to consider. Physically, the neuralink is designed for shorter periods – up to 24 hours. So, waking up in the same clothes I wore a day ago is common, sometimes with minor changes like a different pair of shoes or an added accessory. My body, toned from regular exercise and yoga, would handle the physical strain quite well, but there is a limit to how long the technology can keep my consciousness suppressed. The device needs to be recharged, and my body needs rest and rejuvenation.

Emotionally, there's a strange intimacy in sharing my body for such extended periods. Every time I wake up after a rental, it's as though a veil is lifted from my eyes. There's a brief moment of disorientation, like a foggy morning, where I'm not quite sure where I am or what has happened. My fingers would glide over the fabric of my clothes, tracing the alien feel of a shirt or a dress that I didn’t remember putting on. There's a rush of sensations, the leftover smells of where my renter has been, the lingering tastes on my tongue, and the physical echoes of their activities.

Imagine that feeling extended for a week or a month. Imagine the shift in my daily routines, my eating habits, and my social interactions. My body would live a life that my mind wasn't a part of. As it stands, the rental periods are already a leap of faith, a testament to my trust in the technology, the system, and the people who rent me. Prolonging the rental period only escalates the implications.

However, the notion isn't without its appeal. I could potentially earn more, and it might provide a unique opportunity for me to experience different lives. But for now, the constraints outweigh the benefits. I've chosen to prioritize my sense of self, my personal boundaries, and the preservation of my own life experiences.

Do you have any plans for after medical school? Will you continue to be a surrogate?

Once I'm done with medical school, I plan to specialize in neurology. Being a surrogate has given me an intriguing perspective on how our brain functions and how advanced technology like neuralink can integrate with it. I'm eager to dive deeper, to understand the complex mysteries of our brains. My body, though petite and young, has become a fascinating landscape for my academic curiosity. Each pulse in my veins, every breath I take, has become a testament to the marvels of human biology and technology intertwined.

As for continuing as a surrogate, it's unlikely. Once I start my practice, my focus will be on my patients. I won’t have the time, or the emotional bandwidth, to lend my body to others. Plus, there's a certain comfort in the idea of regaining exclusive ownership of my body. To wake up in my bed, in my clothes, knowing that whatever memories I have from the previous day are my own, sounds incredibly comforting after a few years of sharing it with people.

There's a strange satisfaction in being a surrogate. It's not just about the money, although that's a significant factor. It's about providing a service, allowing people to experience life from a different perspective. There's a sense of pride, of fulfillment, in knowing that my body can help fulfill someone else's dream or desire, even if I don't remember any of it. So, while I look forward to focusing on my medical career, I'll always cherish the experiences and insights I've gained as a surrogate.

Ever stumbled upon photos or videos of yourself from a rental session you don't remember?

Yes, it's happened on more than one occasion. There's something strangely unnerving about seeing photos or videos of yourself in action, knowing that you don’t remember a single moment of it.

The first time this happened, I was scrolling through social media when I found a picture of myself at a charity marathon. My usually fair complexion was flushed with exertion, sweat glinting on my forehead, my blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, strands sticking to my moist skin. The tight runner’s outfit clung to my petite frame, accentuating my toned muscles, highlighting my runner's posture. In the photo, I was crossing the finish line, arms in the air, a picture of triumph and satisfaction.

Seeing myself there, the exuberance on my face, the sheer exhilaration in my wide, bright eyes was surreal. It felt like looking at a doppelganger or a twin, someone who shared my body, my face, but lived experiences that I didn’t remember. It was as if this 'other me' had successfully completed a marathon, something I'd never done. It was a bizarre mixture of pride and confusion, seeing a triumphant moment that I had no recollection of.

There were a few other times that it happened – one in particular was pretty creepy – but there’s no rule against it right now, so, you know.

Have you ever confronted a renter about the things they've done while renting your body?

I’ve never directly confronted a renter, but there have been times when I've requested the agency to talk to them. Once, I found a video of myself eating a tarantula at a food festival. My stomach churned as I watched 'me' in the video, sporting a wide grin, taking a big bite of the deep-fried spider, savoring the crunch with evident delight.

I remembered feeling a bizarre disconnect as I watched my own fingers delicately holding the spider, the crunch echoing in my ears as I bit down, the sound so vivid, it felt real. My heart pounded as my face on the screen twisted into an expression of joy and satisfaction, my blue eyes twinkling with daring and adventure. The image haunted me, even when I had closed my eyes, the back of my eyelids mirroring the ghastly sight. The discomfort was so intense that I had to reach out to the agency, reminding them of my arachnophobia and the importance of renters respecting the surrogate's personal boundaries.

The process was quite straightforward, actually. The agency assured me they would remind the renter of the rules. The interesting (and perhaps, unnerving) part of this whole situation was the realization of how much control I had surrendered. While I was tucked safely away in the realm of unconsciousness, my body was out there, in the world, engaging in activities I’d never imagine doing in a conscious state. It brought up a mix of feelings – a tad of unease, a hint of exhilaration, and an odd sense of curiosity about what my body is capable of when untethered from my conscious mind.

It was unsettling to find a video of myself doing something that was so contradictory to my personality. Yet, it was also an opportunity for me to face my fear, albeit in a roundabout way. It didn't cure my arachnophobia, but it did make me question how much of our fears are mental barriers. It was like staring at a reflection of what I could potentially be, unbound by personal fears or biases. And in a twisted way, it was liberating.

Although I don’t wish for a repeat of such experiences, these instances have pushed me to reflect on myself and consider my perceptions. They've nudged me out of my comfort zone and made me realize the extraordinary adaptability of the human mind and body. And for that, I am oddly grateful.

Have you ever found provocative photos of yourself from a rental session? How did you react?

Yes, I have. One incident that particularly stands out was when I stumbled upon a series of photos of me dressed as a 'catgirl' at what seemed to be a cosplay event.

In these images, I was dressed in a black, form-fitting bodysuit that hugged my petite figure, accentuating my curves. Ears pointed upwards were attached to a headband on my blonde hair, which was styled into playful, loose curls. A long, fluffy tail was clipped onto the back of the bodysuit, and a mischievous smirk played on my face. My eyes were highlighted with dramatic, catlike makeup, and I had a delicate, diamond-shaped nose and whiskers painted on. Completing the look were long, black gloves and boots, adding a certain allure to the whole ensemble.

Seeing myself in this provocative outfit was an unnerving experience. I've always been more of a modest dresser, preferring comfort and functionality over fashion or trends. My heart pounded in my chest as I looked at the photos. My cheeks, usually fair, turned a deep shade of red, my body reacting to the shock and embarrassment even though my mind was still trying to process what it was seeing.

Despite the initial shock, I had to admire the artistry involved. The attention to detail in the costume and makeup was impeccable. My body looked confident, empowered, even seductive - a stark contrast to my usual demeanor. There was an undeniable beauty in the images that I couldn't ignore, a transformation so complete that it was hard to believe it was me.

Although this incident did make me feel uncomfortable, it also forced me to confront my own perceptions of my body and my sexuality. It showed me a version of myself that I had never considered before, pushing me to reassess my boundaries and my comfort zones.

These photos served as a reminder of how diverse and varied human experiences can be, and how our bodies can be a canvas for different forms of expression. It wasn't an easy experience, but it was a learning opportunity for me. Since then, I've become more open-minded, learning to embrace the unexpected and finding beauty in all forms of self-expression.

What's the most bizarre situation you've found yourself in after a rental session?

One of the most bizarre situations I've woken up to was when I found myself at a beach party, covered in chocolate, and wearing a bikini.

The moment my consciousness resurfaced, I was greeted by the smell of salt and sunscreen, underscored by the sweet scent of melted chocolate. My skin felt sticky, and as I glanced down, I saw my petite body donned in a vibrant red bikini, smothered with chocolate sauce. The droplets were scattered like modern art across the soft, fair skin of my abdomen, my arms, and even my legs. The sunlight glinted off the slick coating, giving me an oddly shiny appearance.

Around me, people were laughing and cheering, music blaring from nearby speakers. The party seemed to be in full swing, the beach lined with young people engaged in various activities - some were playing beach volleyball, others were tanning, sipping cocktails, or dancing to the lively music. A makeshift stage had been set up nearby, and it seemed like I had just participated in a chocolate-themed competition.

The sandy grit beneath my feet, the comforting warmth of the sun on my chocolate-covered skin, the riotous noise of the party, all contributed to a sensory overload. But amidst the chaos, there was also an underlying feeling of exhilaration and freedom, a giddy aftertaste of what seemed to have been a wild and enjoyable event.

Despite the initial shock, a part of me couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. There was something incredibly surreal and yet comically charming about it. Extracting myself from the party, I made my way towards the sea, intending to wash off the chocolate and to reclaim a sense of normalcy. As the cool waves lapped against my legs, I remember feeling a renewed sense of appreciation for my unusual job. While it occasionally landed me in sticky situations (quite literally in this case), it also made for some truly unforgettable experiences.

Have you ever found photos taken by a renter afterwards, anything embarrassing?

Oh, you have no idea. There was this one time when I woke up to find a series of pictures on my phone that left me both amused and perplexed.

The first photo showed me in a bright yellow chicken costume. My usually petite and slender figure was enveloped in a fluffy, oversized suit, complete with a red plume on top. My face, usually serene or focused, was contorted into a comical squawk, my mouth wide open, my eyes squeezed shut in exaggerated expression.

Next, I found a picture of myself wearing a pair of oversized glasses, their frames so large they covered half my face, my blue eyes appearing comically magnified. A fluorescent green wig was placed haphazardly on my head, strands of synthetic hair falling over my forehead. My lips were stretched into a goofy grin, my cheeks dimpled with laughter.

The photo parade continued with me donning an array of humorous costumes – a pirate with a plastic hook, a faux fur-lined onesie of a unicorn, a clown with a red nose and oversized shoes. In each photo, I was making different faces - there was a mock-scared expression, a wide-eyed surprise, a faux-angry scowl, and many more.

A couple got a little bit more lewd. There were a few, um, revealing selfies in the mix – one where they’d stuck my tongue out and rolled my eyes back in a pretty stupid looking way. And one really embarrassing one where they were basically naked and cupping my boobs for the camera. I did have a word with the agency after that one – the renters aren’t meant to do that.

Does your body ever feel different when you return to it? Like, sore, worn out, used differently?

Absolutely, my body often feels different when I return to it after a rental session. It’s almost like getting reacquainted with a familiar yet slightly altered space.

One instance that particularly stands out was after a renter who was evidently a dance enthusiast had used my body. I woke up in a dance studio, my reflection mirrored in the wall-length mirror. My petite frame was dressed in a flowing, practice skirt and a snug-fitting top. My blonde hair, usually worn down, was pulled up into a tight, professional bun.

When I moved, I felt a certain soreness in my muscles that I wasn’t used to. It was clear that my body had been stretching and moving in ways that were unfamiliar. My calves throbbed slightly, hinting at an intense session of pointe work. My shoulders and back felt looser, likely the result of expressive modern dance movements.

Despite the soreness, there was also an underlying sense of satisfaction. I could tell that my body had been put through a substantial, yet enjoyable workout. As I moved, I could feel a fluidity in my motions, a rhythm that seemed to resonate in my muscles. It was as if my body had picked up a faint echo of the dance, a lingering melody imprinted in the way I moved.

In these moments, my body sometimes feels like an instrument that has been played beautifully and then set aside. There’s a feeling of having been ‘used’ – not in a negative sense, but in the way that a well-loved book is used, its pages turned carefully, its spine bearing the imprints of a reader's hands. There’s a sense of having been part of someone else’s story, even if just for a while.

So wait, you wake up in random positions after each session? What happens if you don't know how to get home after, haha

Haha, yes, I do wake up in different places following a rental session, but it's not as chaotic as it sounds.

Renters are required to ensure I'm in a safe environment before the rental period ends. This rule is strictly enforced by the agency, ensuring that I don't wake up in dangerous or compromising situations. The location can be anywhere - a park, a café, a shopping mall, even a dance studio, as I mentioned in an earlier response. But whatever the location, safety is paramount.

As for getting back home, that's rarely been a problem. My phone is always with me, and it has all the necessary apps and information for navigation. Plus, we live in an era where rideshares are just a few taps away.

However, there was this one time when I woke up in a botanical garden. It was early evening, the setting sun casting long, golden shadows around me. I was seated on a park bench, amidst a riot of colorful flowers and lush greenery. A gentle breeze was playing with my blonde curls, carrying the scent of earth and blooming roses. The tranquillity of the scene was almost meditative.

Despite not immediately recognizing the place, a quick check on my phone showed it to be within the city limits. Instead of rushing home, I decided to take my time exploring the garden, reveling in the unexpected treat. It was a refreshing change of pace from my usual, fast-paced life. Moments like these make the unpredictable nature of my work not just tolerable, but sometimes surprisingly rewarding.

Do people ever... you know... need to use the toilet when you're being rented?

That's a part of the reality not often talked about, isn't it? Yes, biological needs don't stop during a rental session. The human body, including mine, continues to function as usual - this includes needing to use the toilet.

However, I must assure you that the agency has regulations in place to ensure that renters deal with such situations appropriately. Before a rental session, every renter is thoroughly briefed about treating the body with respect and maintaining personal hygiene.

The first time I woke up in a restroom, I must admit it was a bit disconcerting. I was in a posh restaurant's restroom, staring at my reflection in a tastefully framed mirror. My body was dressed in an elegant black cocktail dress, my blonde hair swept into an intricate updo. My usually bare face had a dash of makeup - a subtle smoky eye and a soft pink lip color.

What startled me was not the environment, but the stark realisation of the intimacy that the rental process implied. In that moment I understood that my renters weren't just walking in my shoes; they were living in my skin. It brought a level of humility and vulnerability that took me a while to get used to.

Over time, however, I've come to terms with it. It's a part of the job, as mundane as it might sound. And it underscores the fact that even when dressed up for an elegant evening out, the human body has its fundamental needs that don't pause for anyone, renter or otherwise. It's a humbling reminder of our shared biology, stripping away the glamour and bringing us down to the basics of existence.

Wait, you woke up in a restroom? Why did they take your body somewhere else before dismounting? Did something go wrong?

It's an interesting question, and to be honest, each rental experience can be quite unique, including where I regain consciousness.

In the case of the restroom scenario, nothing actually went wrong. Renters are advised to ensure I'm in a safe and private location before the rental period ends. In this particular case, I suspect the renter wanted to ensure privacy at the moment of dismounting, which is why they chose a restroom – I suppose they didn’t want to waste their rental minutes walking back through the city.

When I regained consciousness, I was in the ladies' room. Despite the initial disorientation, the transition was smooth. I was safe, and as per the regulations, my dignity and privacy were maintained.

In such circumstances, it's vital to maintain composure and confidence, which is something I've learned with experience. While it can feel strange to navigate these post-rental situations, it's also a fascinating exploration of human behavior and norms. It's like jumping into the middle of a movie and trying to figure out the plot. And in a strange way, that's part of the appeal for me. It keeps life interesting.

What happens to the renter's bodies while they control yours?

While the renters are controlling my body, their own bodies are in a state of neural stasis, almost akin to being in a deep sleep or a coma. The Neuralink technology takes over the function of their neural signals, effectively allowing their consciousness to be projected into my body. However, their bodies do require care during this time, which is where the agency comes in.

The agency has a specialized facility where renters' bodies are looked after during the rental period. They're kept in a safe, controlled environment, with continuous monitoring of vital signs to ensure their physical well-being. Medical professionals are always on standby to intervene if any health concerns arise.

I once had the chance to visit this facility. It was a rather surreal experience, seeing rows of bodies lying still, as if in a peaceful sleep. The room was bathed in a soft, soothing light, the air regulated to maintain an optimal temperature. The silence was punctuated by the occasional beep of a heart monitor, lending a rhythmic undertone to the tranquility.

It felt oddly serene, each body representing a person exploring the world in a different form. I remember standing there, thinking about the paradox of the situation - the quiet, unmoving bodies and the vibrant, active minds experiencing life through rented bodies.

This level of care gives me peace of mind, knowing that my renters are taken care of while they're renting my body. It also underscores the mutual trust inherent in this process - while they trust me with their consciousness, I trust them with my body, all the while knowing that we both are in safe hands.

I couldn't imagine doing that work. What if someone made you do something illegal! Or creepy!

While there are thorough safeguards in place to prevent misuse of the rental service, there was one instance that gave me quite a bit of a scare. It's an interesting story about a renter who got too attached to the rental experience and crossed some boundaries.

This individual, let's call him John, had rented my body a few times, and initially, everything seemed fine. However, over time, his behavior started to become problematic. He began requesting my body more frequently, and started leaving me in places that were meaningful to him - his favorite coffee shop, the park where he used to play as a child, and once even outside his apartment.

It was disorienting and unnerving to say the least. Waking up outside John's apartment was particularly alarming. It was late at night, and the street was bathed in the harsh, white glow of the streetlights. I was dressed in casual jeans and a t-shirt, my hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. The quiet, residential area felt foreign and eerily silent, the only sound being the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze.

I started receiving messages from John too, filled with sentiments that were too intimate, too personal. It was as if he was confusing me with someone he knew closely or someone he wished to be close with. The messages made me uncomfortable, their tone straying from friendly to obsessive.

Then he began sending me photographs - selfies he had taken while renting my body. In each of these images, my body was in various scenarios, some casual, others more intimate.

One of the first pictures was of 'me' at his favorite coffee shop, sipping on a caramel latte. The backdrop was familiar to me - the vintage posters on the wall, the warm, wooden interior of the café. My body was casually dressed, a cozy sweater hugging my petite frame, my blonde hair tumbling over my shoulders. It was as if he had taken me on a casual, coffee date.

At first, I found it a bit amusing, even endearing. Here was a man so taken by the experience of renting my body that he wanted to share his moments with me. It was a new angle to the renting experience that I hadn't considered before - the renter wanting to connect on a more personal level.

As more photographs followed, the tone of them started to change. There was one where 'I' was standing on the edge of a rooftop, the city lights glittering in the background. My body, clad in a fitting leather jacket and ripped jeans, seemed to emanate an air of recklessness that was not me. It was unnerving, a stark contrast to the earlier, cozy coffee shop picture.

Some photos of my feet came next, which was kind of odd, and then my own face making a kissy face at the camera. Ugh. Then came the intimate ones - a picture of 'me' lounging on a bed, dressed in a silk nightgown, a soft smile playing on 'my' lips. The familiarity of the scenario, coupled with the knowledge that it wasn't truly me, left me with an uncomfortable feeling, a breach of privacy that was hard to ignore.

That's when it dawned on me that this was more than just a renter enjoying his experiences - it was veering into an obsessive territory. I could see John blurring the lines between the rented experience and real connection, transforming the relationship into something it was not supposed to be.

Things took a turn for the more disturbing when I received a video from John.

I remember when the notification popped up on my phone, it was late at night, and I was just wrapping up some study session. Intrigued and admittedly a little apprehensive, I clicked on the message.

The video was a selfie, but not just any selfie – it was John, renting my body, talking directly into the camera. He’s dressed me in a guy’s business shirt, boxers, and nothing else. The shirt was unbuttoned, and you could see my bare breasts underneath, pretty much totally exposed.

He was sat *outside* on a park bench, legs spread, leaning back with a smirk. He winked at the camera, a mischievous glint in his eyes, before launching into a monologue. The topics were all over the place - he shared his thoughts on books he liked, mused about our supposed 'connection', even hinted at plans he had for future rentals. His gestures were expressive, my hands moving animatedly as he spoke, the sunlight bouncing off the silver watch wrapped around his wrist. The watch was his, I’d never seen it before.

Throughout the video, he wore a knowing smile that was a clear departure from my typical expressions. It was chillingly intimate, uncomfortably personal. Here was a man who seemed to be under the delusion that he was developing a personal, almost romantic relationship with me, despite the starkly impersonal nature of our interaction.

Watching that video, it became clear to me that I needed to act. His delusions, his growing obsession was not just disturbing but potentially dangerous. It was then that I decided to report him to the agency. Despite the uncomfortable circumstances, I take solace in knowing that the system worked as it should, ensuring safety and enforcing boundaries when necessary. It served as a stark reminder of the potential risks and oddities I might face in my unique line of work.

Do renters take care of you? Like, do they eat properly? Exercise?

While renters are usually respectful, it's important to remember that for them, renting a body is often seen as a kind of vacation or escape from their own lives. As such, they might not stick to the same kind of diet and exercise routines I typically do.

There have been times when I've woken up to the remnants of a food binge - empty pizza boxes, chocolate wrappers, ice cream tubs - the works. It's amusing in a way, a clear indication of the renter letting loose and enjoying their 'time off'. I've found myself in the middle of a carnival, the sweet scent of cotton candy lingering on my tongue, or sometimes at an upscale restaurant, the remnants of a steak dinner still on the plate.

Exercise, unfortunately, doesn't seem to be a priority for most renters. Understandably, hitting the gym or going for a run might not be their idea of a fun time while renting someone else's body. As a result, I have to put in the extra work to maintain my fitness and health.

It's an interesting trade-off - I get to pay for medical school, and they get to take a break from their own lives, diets, and routines. It does add an extra layer of challenge to my life, but it's one I've grown accustomed to. I've learned to appreciate the workout sessions, the way my muscles ache after a good run or the soothing burn of a yoga routine. It's a part of my life that's wholly mine, a piece of routine and normalcy amidst the chaotic nature of my job.

At the end of the day, it's about understanding and accepting that my body is shared space. I do my best to provide a fit, healthy body for my renters to use, and in return, they give me the means to chase my dreams.

Hey meatsuitAMA, ever woke up with a badass tattoo that you didn't remember getting?

Ha! Luckily, no! The agency's pretty strict about that stuff - no permanent changes to the body, and that includes tattoos. Although, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about what kind of ink a renter might choose.

Do you ever feel like you're missing out on your own life?

Damn, you're getting deep on me, aren't ya? It's a trip, no doubt. I mean, one minute I'm me, next I'm catching up on the shenanigans some renter got up to. But hey, at least I'm missing out on my life for a good cause, right? And who knows, maybe one day I'll wake up with a Nobel Prize because some renter used my body to solve quantum physics or something!

So, what if a renter decides to go skydiving or bungee jumping?

Well, they're supposed to stick to a set of ground rules, and extreme sports is a big no-no. But honestly? If someone secretly went skydiving with my body, I'd be pissed I missed out on the thrill! But for real, don't do that, future renters. I don't want my heart giving out at 22.

Are you ever scared of not getting your body back?

Haha, you know how to keep a girl up at night. But no, the tech's solid, and I trust the agency. But you bet your ass I've had some nightmares about that. If my body goes on a world tour without me, I better at least get a postcard.

Do your friends or family know about your job?

Well, mom knows, and she wasn't thrilled, let me tell ya. Tried to get me to consider waitressing or something. But my pals think it's pretty cool. And it's one hell of an ice breaker at parties. Imagine - "Hey, I'm meatsuitAMA, I rent out my body for a living. Pass the chips?"

What happens if the renter gets drunk or high?

Don't get me started. I basically wake up in whatever condition they leave me in. This one time, I woke up on a bed made of candy wrappers and empty bottles. My head is pounding, and I'm pretty sure I can still taste tequila. The renter had a full-on party, got sloshed, and binged on candy.

It wasn’t my best wake-up call, I’ll tell ya that much. Had to down a gallon of water and pop a few aspirins just to stop the world from spinning. And I was finding candy wrappers in my clothes for days after!

Have you ever been rented by someone famous?

Okay, I can’t reveal names ‘cause privacy and all that jazz, but holy crap, yes! And it was wild! Woke up in this swanky hotel suite, there's room service on the table, and I'm wearing designer gear head to toe. Even found a selfie with a major celeb on my phone. They were on a secret vacation or something. Crazy, right?

What about romantic stuff? Ever wake up with a partner next to you?

Sure, it's happened. I woke up once cuddling another sleeping lady, and I was wearing this cute red dress pulled up around my waist. There were rose petals everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE. Took me hours to clean up. Turns out the renter had a long-distance relationship, wanted to surprise their partner. Sweet, but talk about awkward for me!

Have you ever woken up eating something really weird?

Haha, well, get ready for this. Once, I woke up in a chilli eating competition. I kid you not, I was in the middle of chewing this nuclear-level hot chilli. My eyes were watering, my throat was burning, and I was sweating like I just ran a marathon. My lips were stained a bright red from the chilli, and I could feel the heat radiating off my tongue, my entire mouth felt like it was on fire.

I was wearing this ridiculous chilli-shaped hat and a bib with "Chilli Queen" printed on it. It took every ounce of my control not to spit out the chilli right then and there. With tears streaming down my face, I somehow managed to swallow the damn thing, then proceeded to drink about a gallon of milk straight from the jug.

Let's just say, the after-effects were...not pleasant. And that's the last time I ever want to be part of a chilli eating competition!

Do people ever rent you for physical labor or things like that?

It happens sometimes. I hadn’t thought it would ahead of time – who would want *my* body to do manual labour, I can lift like, two bricks on a good day. But it turns out there’s so few bodies available at any given time, sometimes there are shortages, and they just want more hands on site.

Once I woke up in a construction site wearing those baggy, heavy duty work clothes, you know the kind, and a hard hat. There were smudges of dirt on my hands and face, and my muscles ached like I'd been lifting weights all day. The work gloves were still on my hands, and I could feel the rough material chafing against my skin. The boots were a bit too large for my feet, and I had to be careful not to trip over anything.

Apparently, the renter was a contractor from the other side of the country. The agency assures me that they ensure safety measures for such rentals, but I still found it a bit weird. But hey, I guess it’s a way for people to get their work done :/.

What are the most common reasons people rent your body?

Good question! It's a mixed bag, honestly. Sometimes it's for the experience of being a petite woman, which is kinda weird but hey, to each their own. Other times they want to use me like a canvas. I woke up once in a room filled with wigs and makeup. I was wearing this professional grade makeup, you know, the kind you see on models during fashion week.

I’m talking glittery eye shadow that matched the exact color of my eyes, perfectly applied red lipstick that made my lips look fuller, and a rosy blush that gave my cheeks a healthy glow. The fake eyelashes were a bit annoying though. Every blink felt heavy, and my eyes were watering a bit from the glue.

I later found out that the renter was a makeup artist. They had used my face as a canvas to practice new makeup techniques. I gotta say, it felt pretty cool walking around looking like I stepped straight out of a beauty magazine.

Other people might rent me to explore the city, like for travel and tourism things. Sometimes I'm rented for people to go to meetings or hangouts long distance. Occasionally it seems to be just a sex thing -- girls (or even guys, idk) renting me to have fun on the town -- which I'm less keen on, but as long as they take it easy.