"Angela, please..." you protest quickly, but insincerely.
She merely raises one eyebrow quizzically, as if your protests are as transparent as they feel.
"Oh... and I think you'd best call me Angelo, from now on." She puts on a hint of a Spanish accent.
"Angelo, registered." The avatar answers, taking her casual comment as a command.
"We will have to embrace our new bodies... our new lives, at least for the duration of the holiday." she tells you.
Turning her attention to the avatar, she dismisses you from her thoughts.
"I want a buff body, tanned and toned, with a few discreet tattoos. Oh, and make me a few inches taller than my partner."
The avatar looks to you, as if for consent, and with an uncomfortable nod, but a generous wave of your hands you signal your assent.
In moments, Angela disappears in a cloud of nanites. Seconds later, Angelo steps out, as the cloud moves unnaturally drifting deliberately back towards the vent.
"Wow..." you don't want to say any more. Angelo is rather intimidating, the computer filling in the gaps in the description by reading her mind. You suspect the tattoos, might be gang related, and he has a square jawed ruggedness, you wish you could manage. He's not a pretty boy, but there's a roguish charm to his easy grace.
"Now... I... want..." Your voice already cracking at the thought of making yourself a woman, more vulnerable to his charm, more dependent on his help.
You don't get any further, before Angelo silences you. A single finger pressed across your lips. Understanding it as a command you fall silent.
A warning, "Uh... Uh.." accompanied by the stern shake of his head.
"I think I deserve a trophy, to hang from my arm."
You don't want to admit it, but the thought of being a woman scares you more than you thought. Getting this close, every worry builds in your mind like a tsunami of terrors. Weirdly, the idea of being a trophy means, you won't be far from Angelo's side, you'll be safer, and as a trophy, less will be expected of you (hopefully, beyond looking pretty).
"I deserve a trophy, don't I?" his voice now edging towards the gruff end of things. He nods 'yes', and you find yourself mirroring the motion.
"Control relinquished." the avatar pipes up.
"What? ... What do you mean?" your voice still masculine, but now high pitched and squeaky with confusion.
"You have conceded the choice of your body to Angelo." the avatar explains. Your eyes widen, but you remain shocked into silence.
His smile broadens, worryingly as you look to him. The only consolation, such as it is, he's just as surprised by this. He didn't plan on it.
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