Weird remote - Rusty - part 1 (Patreon)

Part 2-3 and additional images: https://www.patreon.com/posts/weird-remote-2-3-111052261 

Rusty Wilson was just another rough-around-the-edges mechanic in a small, forgotten town somewhere in the middle of the American heartland. At 38, he had seen it all—busted engines, broken axles, and the kind of people who left their cars in worse shape than their lives.

That day, Rusty was working on a beat-up old Chevy, a car that had seen better days. The owner had left it in his care, and Rusty had promised to have it running again by the weekend. As he rummaged through the glove compartment, searching for a manual or any clue as to why the engine was coughing so badly, his fingers brushed against something cold and metallic. Frowning, he pulled it out—a strange, old-looking remote with three buttons marked "Conscious Swap," "Oblivious Swap," and "Mind Swap."

Rusty scratched his head, puzzled. "What the hell is this?" he muttered, turning the device over in his grease-stained hands. It looked like one of those cheap TV remotes from the 80s, yet something about it felt… off.

He glanced out of the garage window to the street. It was quiet, as usual, save for a couple of folks loitering near an old pickup. One of them was Earl, the town’s bouncer, a massive guy with the attitude to match his size. Next to him was a woman Rusty didn’t recognize—tall, blonde, with a swollen belly that made it clear she was expecting. Earl was laughing, one hand on the truck’s hood, the other hanging loose by his side.

Rusty, always the prankster, couldn’t resist. With a smirk, he pointed the remote at Earl. But as he pressed the button, his foot slipped on an oil stain, and he mashed all three buttons at once. The world spun around him, a blinding flash of light forcing him to shield his eyes.

"What the—" His voice caught in his throat, and he realized with horror that it was higher, softer than it should be. He looked down and saw a heavily pregnant belly stretching out a floral dress that clung tightly to a pregnant belly that felt like if something heavy was inside. His hands shot up to his face, but instead of feeling his familiar stubble, his fingers brushed against soft, smooth skin.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Rusty gasped as panic set in. His voice was definitely too high and on the lips felt a strange taste like cherry from lipstick. He could feel the weight of the earrings swinging against his earlobes when he turned his head quickly left and right, finally noticing his former body, on which was this woman's head.

Across the street, Rusty saw his own body, but something was off. The head on his body was not his. It was the head of the woman he had seen earlier, her long hair now greasy and disheveled, much like Rusty’s usually was.

The woman seemed to struggle to comprehend what had happened, but when she noticed how Rusty looked at her with wide eyes, she immediately made her way back to the garage.

Rusty tried to call out, but the words caught in his throat. The sound that emerged was soft, breathy, and filled with a panic that made his—her—heart race. “Hey! What the hell is going on?” Rusty’s voice trembled, and stumbled backward, his new body feeling strange and foreign. The weight of the belly pulled him forward, and he nearly lost his balance on the uneven pavement.

Before he could fully grasp the situation, Earl, the bouncer, marched across the street, a nasty grin spreading across his rugged face. Earl's eyes scanned Rusty from head to toe, lingering on the tight floral dress that clung to Rusty's new, rounded belly. He whistled low and approached with a swagger that made Rusty cringe.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Earl chuckled softly and reached out to grip Rusty's shoulder. “You sure are a sight, girl. Looking all puffed up like that. What the hell you doin’ around here? Ain’t no place for a pregnant chick to be wanderin’ about, especially not in this part of town.”

Rusty wanted to yell, to scream at Earl to back off, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he could only manage a weak, “E-Earl, it’s me, Rusty!”

Earl threw his head back and laughed, a deep, mocking sound that made Rusty’s skin crawl. “Rusty? Girl, you’re talkin’ nonsense. Rusty’s right there,” he said, jerking at the woman in Rusty’s old body, who was fumbling with the Chevy.

Rusty’s heart pounded in his chest. He tried to step back from Earl's grip on his shoulders, but the new body seemed too weak. The bouncer’s rough hand grabbed Rusty’s ass, squeezing tightly, sending a shiver of disgust and shock, and he yelped in a high-pitched voice that sounded nothing like his own.

“Let go of me!” Rusty shouted, trying to twist away, but Earl only pulled him closer, his breath hot against Rusty’s cheek.

“Now, now, sweetheart,” Earl murmured, his other hand creeping around to caress Rusty’s belly. “Ain’t no reason to get all worked up. You look like you’re about to pop any minute. Ain’t no need for you to be out here, actin’ all tough. You oughta be home, bakin’ cookies or whatever it is you girls do.”

Rusty’s face flushed with anger and humiliation. Earl’s hand moved from his belly up to his breast, squeezing it lightly. It felt weird, wrong. Rusty tried to pull away, but the huge, muscled man was far stronger than the much-weaker body he was now trapped in.

“Get your damn hands off me, Earl!” Rusty tried again, but his voice cracked with fear and uncertainty.

Earl chuckled darkly, his fingers trailing down Rusty’s side to his hip. “Feisty one, aren’t ya? I like that.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against Rusty’s ear. “But you’re gonna learn your place, girl. You got no business out here, demandin’ things from men like me. Ain’t nobody care about your damn sob story or your swollen belly. Now why don’t you be a good little mama-to-be and—”

“Earl!” Rusty screamed, trying to sound commanding, but his voice shook with the realization of the situation he was in.

"Damn, Tammy," Earl whispered, his eyes dark with lust. "I almost forgot how good you felt."

Rusty’s heart pounded in his chest, and he felt a wave of anger and humiliation wash over him. "Earl, you son of a bitc-"

Earl's lips crushed down on Rusty's, cutting his words short. His tongue thrust into Rusty's mouth, a forced, sloppy kiss that tasted of beer and cigarettes.

"Ear - mmph - " Rusty tried to push Earl off, but the bouncer was much stronger, easily pinning his smaller frame against the workbench. "Gah!" He gasped as Earl broke the kissgave Rusty a condescending pat on the cheek.

"There we go, that’s better," he said with a grin. "Now, why don’t you get yourself home, Tammy? You don’t need to be out here, causin' trouble. I’ll call you a cab, gave Rusty a condescending pat on the cheek. "There we go, that’s better," he said with a grin. "Now, why don’t you get yourself home, Tammy? You don’t need to be out here, causin' trouble. I’ll call you a cab."