Dr. Evelyn Zhao

The lab was silent, save for the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the occasional mechanical chirp from the equipment. It was well past midnight, and the building was deserted—except for Dr. Evelyn Zhao. The lab was her kingdom, a chaotic mess of progress and obsession. Stacks of notebooks filled with scribbled equations and half-baked theories littered the workspace. Empty coffee cups, some with mould growing in the dregs, sat next to a whiteboard covered in diagrams that looked like they’d been ripped from the pages of a mad scientist’s journal. At the centre of it all sat the Swap Gun, a sleek, matte-black contraption that looked like it belonged in a high-tech spy thriller. Its surface gleamed faintly under the harsh light, radiating an air of danger and possibility.

Evelyn slumped in her chair, her petite frame swallowed by the oversized lab coat she always wore. She pushed a strand of her jet-black hair out of her face, her sharp, dark eyes locked on the device. It had taken her years—years of sleepless nights, failed prototypes, and enough caffeine to kill a horse—but it was finally ready. The Swap Gun worked. She’d tested it on lab rats, swapping their physical traits with flawless precision. But now came the real challenge: the human trial.

She glanced at her reflection in the glass of a nearby monitor. Her face was pale, her features delicate but unremarkable. She was thin—too thin, some might say—with no curves to speak of. Her A-cup breasts were barely noticeable, and her lack of an ass was a running joke among her siblings. She was the kind of woman who faded into the background, the one who spent her weekends alone, buried in her work while everyone else went out and lived their lives.

Who should I test it on first? she wondered, her mind racing. It had to be someone she knew, someone whose attributes she could compare to her own. But who? She didn’t have many friends—hell, she didn’t have any friends, really. Just colleagues. And most of them didn’t even know her name.

Her thoughts drifted to Naomi Carter, the new intern. Naomi was everything Evelyn wasn’t: confident, outgoing, and effortlessly stunning. She had that edgy, alternative style that somehow made her look like she’d stepped out of a fashion magazine. Her slim figure, flawless skin, and long, dark hair made her the centre of attention wherever she went. Even Dr. Harris, the department head, seemed to have a soft spot for her. Evelyn had overheard him complimenting Naomi’s “unique flair” just the other day. It made her stomach churn with envy.

What if I swapped with Naomi? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She could take Naomi’s beauty, her confidence, her popularity. She could finally be someone people noticed, someone people admired. But was that really what she wanted? To become someone else entirely?

Evelyn shook her head, trying to clear the thought. No, Naomi was too risky. If something went wrong, it would be too obvious. She needed someone less… noticeable. Someone whose absence wouldn’t raise too many questions.

Her eyes landed on a photo pinned to the bulletin board. It was a group shot from last year’s company party. In the corner of the frame was Dr. Lauren Bennett, one of the senior researchers. Lauren was… well, she was hard to miss. She had a body that could only be described as voluptuous, with curves that seemed to defy gravity. Her breasts were massive—easily double Ds—and her hips were wide, giving her an hourglass figure that turned heads wherever she went. But it wasn’t just her body that made her stand out. Lauren was smart, confident, and commanding. She was the kind of woman who could walk into a room and instantly take control.

Evelyn felt a pang of envy as she stared at the photo. Lauren had everything Evelyn lacked: beauty, confidence, and respect. What would it be like to be her, even for a moment? To have that kind of power, that kind of presence?

No, she thought, shaking her head again. Lauren was too high-profile. If something went wrong, it would be a disaster. She needed someone safer, someone… average.

Her gaze shifted to another face in the photo: Rachel Nguyen, a mid-level researcher in the bioengineering department. Rachel was… well, she was fine. Not too pretty, not too plain. She had a decent figure—curvy but not overly so—and a friendly, approachable demeanour. She was the kind of person who blended into the background, just like Evelyn. But unlike Evelyn, Rachel seemed to have a life outside of work. She had friends, hobbies, a social life. She was… normal.

Rachel, Evelyn thought, her heart racing. She’s perfect.

She grabbed the Swap Gun, her hands trembling slightly as she powered it on. The screen lit up, displaying a menu of options: Physical Traits, Cognitive Functions, Emotional States. Evelyn selected Physical Traits, then scrolled through the list of attributes: Height, Weight, Hair Colour, Breast Size, Hip Width…

Her finger hovered over the options. She could swap everything—take Rachel’s body for herself and leave her with… well, whatever was left. But that felt too ****. What if something went wrong? What if she couldn’t swap back?

No, she needed to start small. Just one attribute. Something subtle, something she could test without drawing too much attention.

Her eyes landed on Breast Size. She glanced down at her own flat chest, then back at the photo of Rachel. Rachel wasn’t exactly stacked, but she had a solid B-cup. It was enough to fill out a shirt, enough to make her look… feminine.

Just a small change, Evelyn thought, her heart pounding. Just to see if it works.

She selected Breast Size, then aimed the device at the photo. Her finger hovered over the trigger, her mind racing with doubts. What if it didn’t work? What if it worked too well? What if—

Before she could second-guess herself, she pulled the trigger.

The device hummed softly, a faint blue light emanating from the barrel. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Evelyn felt it—a strange tingling sensation in her chest, like a thousand tiny needles prickling her skin. She looked down, her eyes widening as she watched her flat chest begin to… change.

Her small breasts swelled, filling out her bra until it felt like it might burst. She gasped, her hands flying to her chest as the tingling sensation intensified. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but it was… overwhelming. Like her body was being rewritten, cell by cell.

When the sensation finally subsided, Evelyn was left breathless. She stumbled to the nearest mirror, her hands trembling as she pulled open her lab coat. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of her new chest. They were perfect—round, firm, and just the right size. A B-cup, just like Rachel’s.

It worked, she thought, a grin spreading across her face. It actually worked.

But as she stared at her reflection, a new thought crept into her mind. If she could swap something as simple as breast size… what else could she change? And more importantly, who else could she become?

The possibilities were endless. And for the first time in her life, Evelyn felt a flicker of something she hadn’t felt in years: hope.