Welcome to

I want to try something new.

We were mid-session, Rex walking my body around the apartment. I'd gotten used to the feeling of being moved—my legs responding to his commands, my arms swinging in his rhythms.

What kind of new?

I want to go out.

I felt a spike of fear. We agreed. Inside only.

I know. But I've been thinking. He stopped my body by the window, looked out at the street below. What if you weren't here?

What do you mean?

There's a system. For temporary upload. You'd transfer into a device—a pendant, usually—with a camera and microphone. I'd wear it around your neck. You could see and hear everything, but you wouldn't be in the body. You wouldn't feel anything.

Why would I want that?

Because then you couldn't panic. You couldn't say red because something surprised you. You could just—watch. Experience it from outside.

That sounds terrifying.

It sounds incredible.

Rex—

Just think about it. You could see your body from the outside. See how other people see you. And I could actually live, for a few hours. Walk around in the world, interact with people, feel like a real person.

I was quiet for a long moment.

How would I come back?

You'd request return. I'd approve it, and you'd transfer back into the body.

You'd have to approve it.

It's a safety feature. Prevents accidental returns in dangerous situations. A pause. But I'd always approve. Obviously.

What if you didn't?

Paula. His voice was soft. Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?

He hadn't. In all these weeks, all these sessions, he'd kept every promise. Respected every boundary. Been exactly what he'd said he'd be.

Let me think about it, I said.

Of course.

But I was already thinking about it. Already imagining what it would be like to see my body from outside. To watch it move through the world without me.

The idea was terrifying.

I couldn't stop thinking about it.

---

## The Upload

The pendant was small—silver, simple, a tiny camera lens barely visible. It hung from a thin chain. It looked like jewelry. It was basically a cage.

I sat at my desk, the pendant in front of me, staring at the upload interface.

TEMPORARY UPLOAD

This will transfer your consciousness to the selected device. You will not have access to your body's sensory input. Your body will remain linked to Rex, who will have full motor control. Return requires approval from the controlling user.

Duration: [1 hour]

Confirm?

You're sure about this, I said to Rex. Not a question.

I'm sure.

And you'll approve my return.

Immediately.

And you won't do anything stupid.

Define stupid.

Rex.

I won't. His voice was serious. I want this to work. I want you to trust me.

I looked at the confirm button. At the pendant. At my hands on the keyboard.

I clicked.

The transition was—

Nothing.

One moment I was in my body, feeling the keys under my fingers, the chair beneath me, my own heartbeat. The next, all of that was gone. I was somewhere small and dark and completely without sensation.

Then the camera activated.

My body was slumped at the desk. Then it sat up. Opened its eyes. Looked around.

Rex.

He looked at the pendant—at me—and smiled with my face.

Can you hear me?

"Yes." My voice came from the tiny speaker, thin and strange. "I can hear you."

This is incredible. He picked up the pendant, held it close to my face—his face now. I was looking at my own features from inches away. My own eyes, blinking with someone else behind them.

"How is it?" he asked. My voice, but not my inflections. "Being in there?"

"Empty. I can't feel anything."

"That's what VR is like. All the time. Except worse." He hung the pendant around his neck—my neck—and I was looking down the length of my body. My breasts, my stomach, my legs. I could see everything but feel nothing.

"I can feel everything," Rex said, and his voice was awed. "The carpet. The air. Your heartbeat." He pressed my hand to my chest. "God. It's been so long since I felt a heartbeat."

I watched my hand rest on my chest, and felt nothing.

---

## The First Excursion

Rex dressed my body. Not in what I would have chosen—a skirt shorter than I usually wore, a top tighter than I liked. When I objected, he said: "I want to feel it. The fabric. The air on my legs. You can change when you're back."

He walked my body out of the apartment. Down the elevator. Into the street.

I watched through the pendant as the world passed by—familiar streets seen from an unfamiliar angle, chest-height instead of eye-level. People glanced at my body as Rex walked. I couldn't tell what they saw. Was he walking like me? Holding himself like me? Did anyone notice something was wrong?

He went to a coffee shop. Ordered my usual. The barista recognized my face and made small talk, and Rex responded with my voice, saying things I wouldn't have said, laughing at jokes I wouldn't have found funny.

This is surreal, I said through the speaker.

"Shh," Rex murmured, low enough that only I could hear. "You'll draw attention."

He sat at a table by the window, sipping coffee I couldn't taste, feeling sunlight I couldn't feel. I watched my body exist in the world without me.

"How are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"Weird. Really weird."

"Good weird?"

"I don't know yet."

The hour passed slowly. Rex walked my body through the neighborhood—past shops, through a park, down streets I'd walked a hundred times but never seen from this angle. He narrated as he went, describing sensations I couldn't access: the warmth of the sun, the texture of the pavement, the smell of flowers from someone's garden.

I listened, and watched, and felt nothing.

When the timer ran out, I requested return. Rex approved immediately.

The transition back was overwhelming—sensation crashing over me like a wave. The bench beneath me, the sun on my skin, the coffee taste lingering on my tongue.

I gasped, clutching at my own arms just to feel them.

"You okay?" Rex asked, still in my head.

"Yeah. Just—adjusting."

"Now you know what it's like."

"Now I know."

I sat there for a long time, feeling the world against my skin, grateful for every sensation.

And already thinking about doing it again.

---

## Discoveries

The excursions became routine.

Every few days, I'd upload to the pendant, and Rex would take my body into the world. Coffee shops, parks, grocery stores. The ordinary geography of a life.

At first, I watched everything. Monitored every interaction, every glance. But that got exhausting. Rex was careful, like he'd promised. He didn't do anything outrageous.

So I started checking out.

"I'm going to hang out in VR," I told him one afternoon. He was getting my body ready for a walk—my body in clothes I wouldn't have chosen, but I'd stopped arguing about that. "You don't need me watching constantly."

"You sure?"

"Text me if anything happens."

I transferred from the pendant to a cheap VR space Rex had helped me set up. Just a room with a couch and a TV. The resolution was bad and everything lagged, but it was better than being stuck in the pendant with nothing to do.

I put on a movie. Tried to relax.

Three hours later, Rex pinged me that he was home. I switched to the pendant, then requested return.

When I got back to my body, I noticed things.

A coffee cup from a café I'd never been to. A receipt for a bookstore I didn't remember visiting. My body was wearing shoes I hadn't seen Rex put on—heels, higher than I usually wore.

"Where did you go?" I asked.

"Just around. There was a poetry reading at that bookstore on Fifth. I stayed for a bit."

"A poetry reading? In my body?"

"It was nice. I met some people."

"You met people?"

"Relax. They don't know anything. They just think you're a woman who likes poetry."

"I don't like poetry."

"Maybe you should. It was good."

I wanted to argue. But technically, he hadn't broken any rules. We'd never said he couldn't talk to people. Couldn't go to readings. Couldn't live.

These boundaries are too vague, I thought. I should set clearer ones.

I didn't.

The next week, I found photos on my phone. My body in places I didn't recognize. My body posing in ways I wouldn't pose. My body in clothes I'd never seen.

In one photo, there was a hand on my hip that wasn't mine. A man's hand, large and unfamiliar.

I stared at that photo for a long time.

"Who is this?" I asked Rex that night.

"Who is what?"

I showed him the photo.

"Oh. Just a guy from the club."

"The club?"

"I went dancing. You used to love dancing."

"I used to do the dancing myself."

"He was nice. We talked."

"His hand is on my body."

"We were dancing. Hands go places when you dance."

I looked at the photo again. My body leaning into this stranger, smiling.

"Did you sleep with him?"

Silence.

"No," Rex said finally. "I didn't sleep with him."

"But you thought about it."

"I think about a lot of things."

I put down the phone. Sat with the feeling—the knowledge that Rex had wanted to fuck someone with my body, and the only thing stopping him was fear of my reaction.

"We need clearer rules," I said.

"Like what?"

"Like—I don't know. I need to think about it."

"Okay."

"And no more surprises. If you do something I wouldn't do, you tell me immediately."

"Okay."

But even as I said it, I knew it wasn't enough. Rules only worked if both people wanted to follow them.

And Rex was hungry in a way rules couldn't contain.