How long had he been stuck on Exchange Island? Two years? Maybe three? Roy couldn’t remember anymore. But he certainly remembered how it all happened. It started out with a fairly normal trip to the resort -- well, normal by Exchange Island standards, which meant swapping bodies with someone upon arrival. In Roy’s case, he swapped with a woman and spent his week vacation trying to be as feminine as possible. It was silly and fun for him, but he couldnt wait to be back in his own body.
The only problem was when it came time to switch back; his original body couldn’t be located. The resort gave him two options: He could either return to the mainland and embrace the life of his new body, or he could stay on Exchange Island and enjoy an all-expenses-paid extention of his trip until his original body could be located.
Figuring it would only be a few days before his original body could be found, he went with the second option. But a few days passed with no word, then weeks, then months. With the hope always feeling like just a few days away, Roy rarely worried about things like plucking his body’s eyebrows or shaving his armpits or legs. With all expenses paid, he indulged heavily in the buffet every day. But the worst aspect of that hope was probably on his mental state. Hope feeling around the corner but never arriving was driving him mad; being stuck on a vacation forever without purpose probably wasn’t much better...
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