People usually go to the Swap Clinic to gain new skills, not lose them, and if they have to lose them, they’re compensated for it. Candy didn’t need to worry about that, though: she had enough savings that a few thousand or whatever in exchange for her decades-long experience in the private sector would be an insult, almost. She gave it up willingly, not stopping there: her degree, how to drive, most of her reading skills, heck, she barely could tie her shoes without help. Most of her knowledge was gone now, but that was okay. That was the intelligence of a yucky old man, a man who, for all intents and purposes, didn’t exist anymore. This was a fresh start, a start where she didn’t need all of those silly thoughts dirtying up her mind. Now she could be happy. Candy ran her tongue against her pearly teeth, brushing against her plump, pink lips. The braces were the only part of the swaps she could’ve done without, but if it wasn’t for them, she wouldn’t get to be 20 again. Besides, the pain in her mouth was annoying, but compared to what pleasures she had already gotten from this unbelievably sensitive body, it was a fair trade-off.  

Candy was still getting the odd memory of her old life, but she was promised those would fade in time. They could stay for know, she supposed; it would be easier to get rid of her old, musty garbage laying around the house if she knew how to store it, or give it away. Candy was a party girl now, there wasn’t any room for the big clocks and the statues and the books. There needed to be room for drinks, music, fun, and as many hot, young people she could get her hands on, whatever the gender. That was the only new thing added to her simple mind. Boobs, butts, snatches, shafts, strapping, shapely, skinny, all of it was good, and Candy wanted to try out every flavor.