Claire was the beautiful and wife of Anthony Patch, heir to his family multimillionaire business. She was a rather poor, although popular instagram influencer when they met. Her charme and beauty did their magic on Anthony who fell for her and asked her to marry him. On the other hand, she didn’t see anything else in Anthony apart from his immense wealth but that was sufficient for her to accept his proposal. She had dated better men but he was the best one to get her into the right social circles and to improve her economic status. Her lack of passion became clearer and clearer when she demanded for more money every month to buy the most luxurious clothes and join gala dinners while her husband was working, on the other hand spending less and less time with Anthony. He realized all that but every time he felt determined to talk with her about their relationship, her seductive pose and eyes were enough to send Anthony’s brain ko. She’s a beautiful and independent woman, he told himself, there isn’t much I can do.
A few months later, however the situation degenerated as Claire, who had in the meantime met somebody else, told him she wanted a divorce. Anthony was initially heartbroken, but then when he realised she had already had contacts with one of the most prominent lawyers in the field of divorces between rich couples, he realised she had planned this all time along and only saw him as an instrument to get rich. He felt very angry about that, but then calmed down and started to plan his revenge. Among the several divisions of the business empire he inherited from his family, there was a medical division specialised in cosmetic surgery, so Anthony starts to devise a strategy to punish Claire and at the same time keep her around him for his pleasure. Sure, it would be a waste of beauty but those lustful blue eyes had already been associated to a painful memory for him. So one day, he went to talk to her, made her angry, then when she turned her back to him he injected her something under her skin to sedate her. Minutes after, his medical secret team entered the room and began its operations.
Claire’s face was entirely remodelled, to the point that not even her close family would recognise it was her, or even a Caucasian woman. Anthony considered several possibilities but decided that turning his ex-wife into a Japanese girl working as a maid for him was the most satisfying option. Her beautiful blue eyes were covered in dark pigments and made larger. Her eyelids on the other hand were given a typical East Asian shape. Her beautiful blonde hair was eradicated and replaced by real Asian black hair transplanted onto her scalp. Her cheekbones were altered in a radical yet natural way and her whole skin tone and body frame were also adapted to her new persona. She was also rejuvenated by a few years. Later came the mental training. A team specialised in experimental neurology worked on her brain to selectively destroy most of the memories of her previous life, apart from a vague association to Anthony, a good English proficiency – she was later going to be told she was a second-generation Japanese immigrant who had lost the ability to speak Japanese – and some general knowledge necessary to get around their villa. The whole process lasted several weeks, during which all traces linked to Claire were hidden. When the police came to search for her, they couldn’t find anything. Also, Anthony was too wealthy to be bothered by the police.
Once recovered from all the procedures, Claire was dressed in a cute Japanese maid outfit and left on a bench in the garden of their villa. Anthony had mixed feelings contemplating the new kind of beauty his ex-wife had acquired, one the one hand he missed her old self, on the other one he was sure the new Claire was not going to hurt him anymore. “Anthony” she said as the woke up, jumping in his arms, still very confused – “Hey hey Kumiko, I’m glad you feel ok again now but please remind to keep your distances, after all you’re just my maid!”. Claire was extremely confused but in all honestly she couldn’t remember anything precise about her relationship with Anthony, apart from a strong connection, and her outfit seemed to agree with what Anthony had just said. “Of course Mister Patch, I… I apologise. What… What’s happened?” “Apparently you’ve had a seizure, you are still recovering from a bad accident, don’t you remember? Your head was hit hard but as I am a caring boss, I paid for your medical bills and didn’t fire you. Instead, I promoted you to my personal maid in my main villa to spare you from tiring tasks. Not bad as a treatment for a poor Asian girl without much wealth or education right?” ”What? Me, Asian?” – she replied. “Take your time to recover, I’ll see you later, I hope you’ll feel better by then.”
Claire ran to the nearest mirror and felt completely shocked seeing her reflection as a young Asian girl. She didn’t exactly remember how was she supposed to look like but she was pretty sure she wasn’t a minority. On the other hand, the evidence was just in front of her in form of jet black hair and brown doe eyes. She looked so… foreign to her! She tried to pull her hair but it hurt, she tried to scratch her eyes but they weren’t color contacts and her face looked and felt absolutely real. After all, Mr. Patch was probably right, the accident, the memory loss, she had to be grateful to him, she should show him some gratitude, right? Hmm, how could she do that? Oh yeah, there was something she had not forgotten, and that was to be sensual and to please men. She fixed her outfit, brushed her black hair, applied some makeup to make her eyes look even larger, then she contemplated for a moment how cute and doll-like she looked like. Something was still off but it would probably top away with time, she told herself. Time to give Anthony a good time!
I’m Franziska, a German girl in her late 20s. I work as a lawyer in a big studio and I’m really satisfied with my career. I’ve got short blonde hair and pretty blue eyes I’m very proud of but I’ve never let my identity revolve about my looks, I always cared more about my brain. I was obviously pretty popular as a teenager and got married at 22 to my high school sweetheart. Unfortunately, we weren’t ready for marriage and we divorced at 24, it was pretty rough being so young. Dating has been difficult since then. It took me a long time to recover from that relationship and here I am, struggling to find love again. One Sunday afternoon, I was having a tea party with one of my closest friends, Duru, a Turkish-German girl who owned a beauty salon. We came from very different backgrounds and had very different lifes, me being more focused on my career and Duru having a husband and two children, but we still were very close friends. I opened up with her about my struggles with dating and how I felt like my life was incomplete only revolving around work, as much as I liked my career. Duru told me she understood me and that she had just what I needed.
My friend Duru gave me a gift card for a makeover at her salon. I was a bit doubtful, I’ve never been a big fan of makeovers and beauty salons, I’ve always been more the tomboy type. Moreover, I was a bit skeptical of her Turkish-style beauty salon, I had previously seen some girls with very a heavy makeup leaving the place and always thought their idea of femininity was a bit too old-fashioned for my standards. “You’ll love it, my dear!” – she encouraged me – “We take care of everything from hair and makeup to styling. All you need is a new style and you’ll find love again, we guarantee you’ll get married soon!” “Haha, that’s a bit too much to offer but sure, a new style, why not?” – I replied, still skeptical but more intrigued. “You should embrace your femininity more – Duru insisted -“ Why are you keeping your hair this short? “ She had a good point, I guess. “Well, I was mourning my previous relationship and felt like I needed a change.” “It’s been a few years Franzi, you might need a change again.” “You’re probably right.”
The following week I took a day off work and went to the salon. “Time to pamper myself a bit” – I thought! I noticed how all the other customers were Turkish or Arab and felt a bit unease as the only German girl there. A couple of Turkish girls took care of me. Their German was correct but heavily accented. After I told them why I was there, they guaranteed me that I would be satisfied with the result and then began chatting in Turkish with each other. They began washing my hair and soaking it in what appeared to be hair dye. I couldn’t see much but I trusted them. After a long wait, they blew my hair dry and began applying extensions to it. To my shock, when they showed my reflection in the mirror, I noticed they dyed my hair black! “Why this dark?” – I asked The two brunette girls felt embarrassed “Most of our customers have dark hair, we don’t have hair products for blonde hair, I’m sorry.” – said one of them. I looked kinda good, I had to say, but this was really unlike me. I didn’t want to embarrass my friend Duru but I made a mental note to dye my hair back to blonde within a few days.
Then they suggested I tried on dark color contacts for my eyes to “Make my smile warmer” and told me to keep my eyes closed while the contacts settled down. I wasn’t used to wearing them so I did as they told me. I felt something stinging my lips and when I opened my eyes I had thick lips. “Why did you that to me? How dare you inject something in my lips without asking for my permission?” – I bursted out. I started screaming at the girls, who ran away scared. I didn’t care, I was a lawyer and I had an image to protect. What would people think of me if I showed up in the court with cock-sucking lips, let alone the long dark hair? The girls came back with a tall, handsome man with black hair and green eyes who turned out to be Duru’s brother, Mesut. He seemed angry while walking toward me but as he got closer, his face showed a mix of awe and surprise as he got closer. He told me he was initially thinking about something different but on a second thought he was willing to offer me some sort of refund it was something that was going to change my life for the better, he said. I followed him in his office, where he offered me a cup of delicious Turkish tea. As I talked to him I felt more and more tired. I asked him for more tea to wake me up but it didn’t help, quite the opposite. A few minutes later I couldn’t keep my eyes open and collapsed on the chair where I was sitting.
I realised something was off when I woke up. The first thing I noticed was the smell of makeup. It was extremely intense and close. As I opened my eyes, they felt heavy and I could clearly see fake eyelashes had been applied on top of mine. They were black, thick and coated in mascara. “Did they really have to tart up my face with makeup? I bet I look like a whore now.” – I thought. A strong light had been turned on in the room, my eyes weren’t used to it so I had to keep them closed. “Where am I?” – I asked, noticing the unfamiliar setting. Mesut’s voice replied “In a safe place, don’t worry about that.” “The last thing I remember is discussing about a refund for what you have done to my lips, what happened next? The tea… Did you drug it?” “I had to. But I kept my word about the refund. I will give you the greatest gift of your life. See, as soon as I saw you I felt that there was something special about you. Duru told me about your struggles with dating, I understand you, I also felt like that after my first marriage.” “Oh shit, here we go” – I thought – “a marriage proposal!”
“Let me stop you right there, you’re quite attractive but I don’t even know you. Also, I don’t know if you’re used to do this to Turkish girls but you can’t simply kidnap a woman to make her your wife. We Germans don’t do that.” “Really?” – he smiled “You don’t even look German!” “What do you mean?” – then I recalled my hair dye. “Oh, the hair, well it’s just a dye, I don’t know what do you mean.” “Not only that. And the color contacts. And the lips. I saw the good raw material in you and had some more work done on your face. Wanna give it a look?” – he asked, handing me a mirror. A nose job! The fucker gave me a nose job to make it rounder! And my eyes looked somewhat oriental now, they had also been touched! Even my face shape had been remodelled. Eyebrows reshaping and extra lip filler completed my transformation. “You make a pretty good Turkish girl for a German!” “You’re crazy” – I said with a weak voice. This was overwhelming. “You won’t get away with this, I’m a lawyer and I’ll make you pay for this!” “I doubt it my dear. You’re currently thousands of kilometre away from Germany, in a remote village on the Turkish coast. Duru spread fake rumours about you leaving the country for a long journey so that nobody will be looking for you.”
“Duru, she’s also part of this?” – I asked, sounding desperate. I realised they were serious about the whole thing. “She wants the best for both of us and I managed to convince her that this was the best choice. Isn’t it sweet, that you two could be sisters-in-law soon?” “But… why did you have to change my appearance so much?” “You needed a change in style, and what better than a Turkish look to embrace your femininity? You German girls might be pretty but you have a lot to learn about being feminine. I had a preference for brunettes, so it worked for both. Besides, this way you’re locked out of your old life. Enough chit chat for now, you need to get ready!” “For what?” – I asked, in vain. He left the room as an assistant I recognised form the beauty salon joined me. She swiftly slipped me out of my cocktail dress and helped me wear a white wedding dress. “Hey, stop! This is crazy!” – I said, but I was feeling too weak to fight. She adjusted the bridal dress on my back to make it tighter and then slowly untied my hair, which was now long, black and wavy, cascading on my shoulders in silky curls. I could feel it caressing shoulders, a new feeling for me. She sprayed it with jasmine fragrance and crowned it with a white tiara. I was starting to look like an Arabian princess from a fairytale.
Then she gave me long earrings to match my tiara. To complete the look, a white bridal veil partially covered my hair. I looked like a Middle Eastern bride, with no resemblance with my old self. I was playing with my veil as Mesut came back, in a black suit. “Looking gorgeous, my dear! So, are you ready, are we doing this?” My heart was pounding like crazy. Indeed, were we really doing this? Was I really going to start a new wife as a devout housewife, forgetting about my old life and career? The thought of it was scary, but was I really happy of my life before? Maybe Duru was right after all, this is really the best option. He was so handsome, and I felt really pretty as a bride. I slowly grabbed his hand and nodded. After a few hours we were husband and bride. I was now Feriha Kılıç, I took my husband’s surname and I received a new, Turkish name. I liked the sound of it! We had a happy honeymoon and soon afterwards I was expecting my first baby. When I met Duru, I couldn’t be more grateful to her for my new life! “I told you that you were going to get married soon! You look so beautiful, my dear!”
When Mary awoke on Thursday, she never imagined it would be her last day as a White suburban housewife. She married Sudhir in college and at the time, her Indian boyfriend seemed so worldly and cultured. It was only that character that let her get beyond her white toast upbringing which looked down on other ethnic groups. When they were married, she discovered that he had a very rich fantasy life which invaded their bedroom. Mary was used to dressing up as a maid, dancer or tens of other costumed roles when it came time for sex. But this week had been very strange. Sudhir had been planning a trip to India to visit the factories that produced his high fashion garments sold in department stores. Over the last years, Sudhir had gone to India about once a year to keep track of the business. He seemed very agitated since last week when he said that his parents were expecting to meet Mary on this next trip. Mary had always thought it strange that Sudhir’s parents did not make it to their wedding and hadn’t visited in the last years. Nor did they socialize with any of his relatives in the states. But she had never seen him like this before. Sudhir sat her down when he came home from work and asked her whether she really loved him. Mary replied “Of course I do”. He asked whether she would do ANYTHING for him if it was really important. Mary thought and said “yes, you know I would do anything for you”.
Sudhir explained that his parents were really traditional and would be shocked if Sudhir revealed that his wife was not Indian. He had thought about having someone pose as his wife on the trip but told Mary that it would be unfair to her. What he was asking instead was whether Mary would pose as an Indian during the trip. As she looked at her 5″4″ curvy whited skinned, blond haired body, she laughed at the prospect. “I could never pass” Mary said. “You leave that to me” Sudhir said ominously. That night Sudhir said he was taking her to a salon where a friend of his was going to help with the plan. Mary imagined that she was getting her hair dyed and getting hair extensions so she happily got into the car with her loving husband. She had no idea what was in store for her. When they arrived, Mary was surprised to see that the “salon” was in a non-descript warehouse in the industrial part of town. Sudhir brought her inside and introduced her to a pleasant looking Indian woman in a lab coat named Anuja. The woman looked her up and down and said “we have a lot of work to do. When is the trip”. Sudhir said “10 days”. The woman said” Well, then we had better get started”. Sudhir gave his wife a kiss and left her with the technician.
Mary stepped into the next room which was set up with all kinds of audiovisual equipment. Anuja explained that this was advanced equipment to teach Mary to speak Hindu. Because of the timeframe, they were going to use a special medication which makes the brain more receptive to learning language. It actually turns the biological clock back to permit learning the way we learn when we are children. The hardest part would be teaching Mary to respond to her new name Marwa naturally. Mary awkwardly pronounced the name and Anuja laughed. You will see, the teaching process is VERY effective. Anuja sat Mary at one of the stations which had a large screen in front and put headphones on her. She also started an intravenous line and told Mary that it would only have sugar water in it at first. A voice came over the headphones and said repeat after me Marwa. My name is Marwa. This went on for some time and Mary really didn’t notice when the medicine started to flow into her arm. Once the medicine was onboard, the voice seemed to really penetrate her being. It was then that it began to only speak Hindu. It would show and image of something and then repeat the word in hindu 10’s of times. With each cycle, it seemed that the only word that came to mind when that picture came up was the Hindu word. The english words seemed to be slipping away. What Mary didn’t know was that the medicine and process weren’t just teaching her Hindu, they were erasing the identical parts of her brain that had learned english in her youth. Even worse, images of her youth were being replaced.
When the voice talked about her childhood home, she didn’t see a street in suburbia, but rather a village in southern India with a small house. When she saw the house, another medicine flowed into her veins giving her a warm happy feeling. Of course that is home and how she misses it. Then with the words father and mother, her mental images of her parents were changed to pictures of an older Indian couple in the village. The second medicine filled her with love and longing to see her Indian “parents”. The process continued like this for 8 hours. By the end, Mary was only answering to the name Marwa which seemed to be the only name she knew. It was then that the program changed. Marwa began to see pictures of herself with Sudhir, but in picture after picture, her appearance was morphing. One image focused on her blond hair and as it became long and black, she felt a tremendous calm descend over her. In another image, her skin slowly darkened from pale white to dark chocolate. A rush of excitement filled her helped by the medicine flowing into her body. Then her body began to change. Her Aereolae became fuller and darker, her breasts more pendulous and her little button nose grew a sharp hump. Finally the fine hair on her body became more prominent especially her shaved bush becoming full and dark. At the end, the image of the young Indian woman on the screen rotated around and around and the voice imprinted this image of Marwa to her brain. This would make the coming days of surgery much easier for everyone.
Now still images became movies and Marwa absorbed a life she never led. All shot from the perspective of the viewer, she saw her grade school, her high school, witnessed conversations with her friends. She saw herself meeting Sudhir at college but as an exchange student from India. Their wedding was very different with rituals that replaced her catholic upbringing. Finally, a series of movies modeled for her how an Inidan woman acts with her husband. She felt the sense of submission flow into her and had her fashion sense remolded to Saris and Sandels. When Marwa left the cubicle, she was tired and happy to be led to sleeping quarters. She showered and her western clothes were taken from her. There were no mirrors in the bedroom. She dressed with traditional Indian clothing as if she had done so her whole life. While she slept, melitonin stimulators flowed into her veins. By the time she awoke, her skin was very dark and her hair was now growing at an accelerated rate straight and black as it would for the rest of her life. Marwa didn’t notice that Anuja was now speaking to her only in Hindu. She would have been shocked to hear the broken english that remained in her memory.
Anuja took her to the surgical suite. She told Marwa that they were going to make her beautiful for Sudhir. This made her feel happy and submissive. During the operation, her breasts were enlarged and stretched to become more pendulous. An implant was placed in her nose to give her the hump she identified as pleasing to her face. Cheek implants changed her appearance significantly. Her delicate feet were roughened to those of a woman who spent her youth barefoot. And more delicately, her lithe body shape was modified through fat and hormone implants to become rounded over the next week. When she returned to her bedroom, she was sore but happy. The last thing she saw as she went off to sleep was her image in the new mirror in her bedroom. It looked so much more like her! When Marwa awoke a week later, no friend or family member would ever have recognized her. Sudhir was there and told her it was time to leave for India. Marwa looked at him blankly until her repeated himself in Hindu. She then threw herself into his arms and kissed him passionately. Sudhir smiled. His new Indian wife was going to be a great hit with his parents in Mumbai.
Kathy had planned something really special for her boyfriend of 4 years. They were young but they had been together for a long time already and the novelty of the thing had worn off. So Kathy thought about something her boyfriend Chris told her once. He had apparently a thing for Black girls and, before meeting Kathy, he had dated a few. He was completely happy with her, he had reassured her, but he couldn’t deny he still found them charming. Being a gorgeous blonde, blue-eyed girl, Kathy found this a bit disturbing at first but she had to admit, Black girls can be pretty hot too. So, when Kathy heard about the revolutionary bodysuits produced by SkinTech®, she immediately planned a very special night for their anniversary. Thanks to cutting edge technology, their skin suits gave the illusion of a complete new body to those who used them. Obviously it couldn’t do much to change body shapes, although bigger breasts and curvier bosoms were achievable but it did wonders to change skin color, facial features and hair. They even came with special color contacts to give customers a more natural eye color to match their new skins. She selected a dark-skinned girl’s body with African facial features and long curly hair. When the parcel finally arrived the day before their anniversary she could barely resist the temptation to open it.
“Oh my God, Chris is going to be so happy with this!” – the told herself heading to the living room. “Sweetie” – she told him “How about we go out for dinner on our anniversary tomorrow?” “I’d love that! Last year we didn’t do anything special so I thought you were in the mood for something chill this time around too but I’d love to celebrate it properly!” “Cool, I’ll meet you downtown after work then!” Kathy actually took the whole day off to try on the skin suit. She was very excited to try it on so as soon as he left the house to go to work, she got naked and rolled the suit skin on. It was, as requested, a very dark skin, complete with attached real human hair and a pair of color contacts. Dark brown, of course. The fake skin was very thin and felt natural once on. The part of the bodysuit covering her face required some special care to make it fit her mouth and eyes but once on, it felt like real skin. Once fixed her hair and put on the color contacts, Kathy looked at her finished look.
“Hey, who would have guessed it, I make a pretty hot Black girl haha!” – Cathy told herself, filled with joy in anticipation of what her boyfriend was going to say about it. “It feels unreal to look like this” – she thought, checking herself in the mirror “The details are spot on, the inside of my hands are lighter, my lips look fuller, the hair looks absolutely real, I really am a Black girl right now! I’m not half as hot as I usually am right now but I could live with this for a day or two!” She got ready and left for the meeting point. It felt exciting to visit her hometown looking as someone else, although the could tell people looked at her differently, especially the old ones. “I guess that’s what Black folks have to go through every day.” – she thought.
By the time they were supposed to meet, but Kathy and her boyfriend were standing there, but obviously he didn’t recognise her. She smiled and called him. Hearing her voice both at the phone and coming from the Black girl standing next ti him was very confusing for Chris but as soon as she explained him what was going on, he absolutely loved the idea. They went on a dinner that felt like a date and made out on their way back home. Needless to say, as soon as they got there, they had the best sex of their life, such was the attraction Chris had for Ebony beauties. He loved everything about that body, the hair texture, the skin tone, even her scent was different! Besides, it felt even better knowing it was actually her beloved Kathy in there. She was equally happy to see him fulfilling one of his fantasies without cheating on her and she had to admit, it felt pretty exciting to have sex in a different body.
After long hours of passionate lovemaking, the young couple finally fell asleep. As the night progressed, Kathy’s bodysuit began feeling itchy, especially on her back, until she woke up early in the morning, feeling that something was off. Chris was still sleeping, his head lying by Cathy’s gorgeous Afro hair. She smiled when she noticed that. “Such a perv, I bet he really enjoyed playing with my hair too! God, sex was great last night, we might do this again in a few weeks!” – she thought with a smile. “Well, it has been fun while it lasted but this bodysuit is starting to feel a bit uncomfortable now, better taking it off now. Also, I need to go back to my old self. I’m starting to miss my light skin and blue eyes!” She headed for the bathroom, her Afro hair swinging here and there “Gosh, is that what Black girls always feel when they have long hair? I hate this tickling on my skin, this hair is so kinky! I really miss brushing my smooth blonde hair right now!”
“Wait a moment, why am I feeling this tingling on my shoulders?” – she asked herself – “That’s weird, the bodysuit is thin but not that much…” She looked at her face in the mirror. Again, the illusion was perfect. She was a convincingly natural Black girl right now. She gave one last look at herself before searching for the seals, by the neck. “Ok, this is getting weird” – she thought after a few seconds – “I’m pretty sure it was here, how is this possible?” For a split second, a mental movie played in her head. “I’m stuck in this bodysuit, forever. I have to live as a Black woman for the rest of my life.” She felt a chill down her spine, together with an unexpected wave of arousal. The idea terrified her because, well it was fun to be a Black girl for fun for one day but what the heck, she was a Nordic beauty and didn’t have anything to do with those people. The arousal ashamed her a little. Was she into this? What a weird fetish was it, identity loss? Beauty loss? Degradation? She definitely had superiority complexes towards coloured people but did she find them sexier than whites deep down? Did she like to play with the idea of being turned into one of them? She shook these thoughts off her head and headed for the bodysuit box. She put on a sweater and began scrolling through the instructions.
“Ok, here’s a drawing… Ok, the seal is supposed to be on my neck, what the hell?”. Then she noted a few lines in fine print, stating: […in some rare cases malfunctions had been observed, including and not limited to: itchiness, bonding to skin and risk of damaging tissues upon removal. Please get in touch with our customer service as soon as a feeling of itchiness arises.] It continued stating that customers were using the skin suit at their own risk and that safety regulations had to be followed very strictly. “Ok, this is really freaking me out…” – she thought – “The itchiness is almost gone now, apart from my face and my hands but maybe I should still call customer support. Oh God tell me that this is not real!” She grabbed her phone and while dealing the number she couldn’t help but notice how alien her dark hands looked like. Could this be her body now?
“Thanks for reaching out to SkinTech customer support service” – a female voice replied her on the phone – “How can we help you?”. Kathy explained her situation trying to keep calm and providing all the necessary information. “I see” – replied the female voice with a serious tone – “How long has the itching going on?” “A few hours, but it’s mostly gone by now…” – replied a worried Kathy. “A few hours? Why didn’t call us earlier?” “Well, I was still half asleep when it began, I called when I realised I couldn’t find the seams…” “Well, I am sorry to tell you this but this is a sign that the bodysuit has already significantly bonded with your skin. Can you feel though it?” Kathy frantically tested how sensitive her skin was in various parts of the body, finding out that in some areas the bodysuit already felt like touching her own skin. Her face and her hands, however, gave her a rubbery sensation upon touching them. She reported tall of that to the lady at the phone who replied: “Again, I am sorry to inform you about this but it looks like the bodysuit has already bonded to most of your skin. Your hands and face will follow soon and by then removing the skin suit could result in serious injuries.” “But surely there must be a way to fix this!” – replied Kathy, who was really freaking out.
Chris woke up hearing Kathy’s loud voice and checked up on her. The phone call had just finished and Kathy was nervously reading the user manual of the skin suit when he entered the room. He was surprised by seeing her still wearing it that late and suspected that something was wrong with it. Cathy explained him what had happened since she woke up as she was just beginning to realise what she had done. Chris, who had a Law degree, quickly went through the Terms and Conditions chapter and laconically commented: “Oh my God Cathy, you really screwed up big time!” – before leaving the room.
Kathy began hyperventilating. “This was only supposed to be an adventure, I don’t want to be stuck as my boyfriend’s living sexual fantasy!” – she told herself. She instinctively touched her hair with her hands, feeling the kinky texture of the afro hair that was becoming her own. She realised with horror that pulling her hair gave her a muffled yet detectable feeling of pain. Her hair follicles were rapidly connecting with the skin suit’s hair and it was only a matter of time before she could only grow healthy black, curly Afro hair. Chris decided to call a doctor friend of him who arrived as quickly as he could only to confirm the obvious: the bodysuit was now permanently attached to Cathy’s body and attempting its removal would result in injuries similar to those of a burn victim. On a more positive side, the new skin had not been rejected by Kathy’s immune system, which meant she could expect to live a regular, healthy life even wearing the skinsuit 24-7 from now on. To top it off, even her brown colour contacts had merged with her body. No more baby blues, Kathy was now going to watch the world around her through brown doe eyes.
Next came a phase of realisation of what had happened and consequent depression. She was going to be trapped in a Black girl’s body for the foreseeable future. She would have to live life as someone else. Her life quickly fell apart, her boyfriend, despite feeling partially responsible, left her as he couldn’t overcome the shock of seeing his blonde girlfriend being forever turned in a sexy Black girl, her family rejected her and her friends made fun of her. Her company simply didn’t believe this Black girl claiming she was actually Kathy and she quickly found herself lonely and jobless. All she could do was cry with her sexy brown eyes. And feel her kinky curls tickling on her skin whenever she bowed her head to cry, a feeling she would never get used to.
Eventually, she decided to start a new life, burning bridges with her past, in a new city as Kayla, a young Black woman with no past. She learned the hard way how much harder it was to succeed professionally and relationship-wise as a Black girl despite having the same CV and being the same person as before. Eventually, she was hired as a waitress in a dirty restaurant in a ghetto area and got used to long commuting trips by bus and to be groped by the customers, mostly old Black men. She grew used to it and began expressing herself in Ebonic as she was told she was sounding too white. Eventually, she was lucky enough to be introduced to a nice guy, the son of one of the customers, a handsome Black guy, whom she started dating. Soon enough she realised that was the best she could do and settled down with him. Her main worry now was having a sufficiently dark-skinned baby not to raise any suspicion about her true ethnicity. Luckily, her boyfriend was extremely dark-skinned so genetics would play its part and give her a pretty dark-skinned baby. At that point Kayla had completely accepted her new identity and had started to see her past life as a privileged white girl as an illusion.
Liz was a stunningly beautiful girl, proud and confident. She defied the stereotype of the silly blonde and became a successful athlete and an excellent student. Her dream was to follow her father’s footsteps and to became an FBI agent. Indeed, her father Greg was more than a simple agent as he was one of the top tier agents involved in the fight against drug trafficking and was close to deal a fatal blow to one of the main drug lords importing drugs to the USA: a ruthless Colombian man named Marco Gutierrez. At a certain point, Marco felt he had little chances to escape his fate so he put all his energy into a plan to kidnap Liz. He waited until Greg was out on a mission and sent out his best thugs to get her. He still had no specific plans about what to do with her once he got her but he was running out of time and that seemed to be the perfect occasion. The girl was at home, following her online classes and was wearing headphones when the thugs broke into her house.
As soon as she realised what was going on, Liz grabbed a baseball bat and tried to show them that she was a brave girl and the worthy daughter of her father. The thugs however were not very impressed and easily overpowered her. They put her to sleep and took her with them heading to Colombia. Meanwhile, the drug lord had perfected his plan and decided that she should marry his only son, Juan. In that way harming the Gutierrez clan would mean getting Greg’s daughter in serious trouble so the agent would stop any effort to uncover their illegal business and would instead be forced to divert the investigations away from them to save his daughter. Marco agreed to this plan at one condition: the girl had to drastically change her appearance. He definitely wasn’t into blondes and to be more specific he wanted this girl to look like an exact replica of his ex-girlfriend, Ana. Marco thought it over and conceded that this would make it harder for the police to recognise her so he handed her over to a surgeon, a friend of him, who worked on Liz’s features to make her unrecognisable and to give her the required look.
The surgeon knew how powerful Marco was so he spared no efforts and had Juan’s ex kidnapped so that he could swap their hair, permanently removing Liz’s gorgeous blonde mane and transplanting Ana’s thick black wavy hair in its place. Then he measured Ana’s melanin production and tuned micro melanin stimulators to be surgically inserted in Liz’s body to permanently alter her natural skin tone. Finally he covered Liz’s blue irises with dark pigment and remodelled her facial features after Ana’s, until Liz looked exactly like Juan’s ex. When Liz woke up after the surgeries she looked like a very different girl. Gone were her nordic features, replaced by tanned skin, black hair and eyes and different facial features. She looked unmistakably latina now. They even gave her a boob job to give her a curvier body shape, matching Ana’s.
Liz was devastated by her identity loss but wanted to put on a brave face and asked him what did they want from her now. Marco explained the shocked girl that she had no reasons to worry as long as she obeyed them. She would be given a new role in life as the partner of Marco’s only son. “It’s a great honour, young lady, there are plenty of pretty Colombian girls lining in to be my daughter-in law. You can only imagine the prestige and wealth you will acquire. I had to sacrifice many good candidates to chose you, a gringa, but now your father and I will be family and I’m sure he’ll do anything in his power to prevent the FBI to destroy my empire. Obviously I had to adjust you to my son’s aesthetic preferences as you must have noticed. Also, you will receive a proper training to teach you how a young lady should properly behave around men.” Liz struggled to accept the training given to her as her natural tendency was to be assertive and confident, as she was taught women should be. However, hours of forced demeaning behaviours combined with a mixture of hormones and aphrodisiacs given to her on a regular basis made it difficult to be rebellious. After a few weeks she eventually gave up and began feeling increasingly submissive around men.
Liz was eventually introduced to Juan, Marco’s son and her future partner. As soon as she saw him, her nipples became suddenly hard and she had to admit to herself that he was a total hunk. Even if she hated being so attracted to the son of her father’s worst enemy, she couldn’t resist him and quickly began undressing and caressing him. Eventually, she managed to resist him and pushed him back after a sudden surge of pride. She was the proud daughter of an American FBI agent after all, not the Latina girlfriend of the son a of a Colombian drug lord! Starting from that day, they increased the hormones and aphrodisiacs given to her as well as the intensity of the training sessions until she succumbed to them and gave up to the excitement. The next time she saw Marco she jumped to his arms and began caressing him while moaning for the excitement. They kissed and make love while Marco caught everything on camera to have evidence that they were indeed a couple.
Liz found her new role to be extremely fulfilling and erotic and even got sexually aroused by the idea of having been turned into a dark-haired Latina to please her man. She crashed mentally and wanted to begin Spanish classes soon to play her role even better. She even took the Spanish name Ana after the girl whose appearance she was given. She did everything requested to her to give her father evidence that she was held captive and that he had to divert attention from the Gutierrez clan if he wanted to save her. While the old Liz would have attempted escaping, Ana accepted her new role and put all her effort into looking good for her man. She spent lots of time getting her nails and hair done, getting tanned and buying luxurious dresses and jewels. Not that she ended up wearing them often as she spent pretty much all of her time with Juan in lingerie or naked. The sex was amazing and she would not give it up for anything on Earth. Greg was forced to save the Gutierrez’s clan and soon his daughter married Juan, taking the name of Ana Gutierrez and living her new life to the fullest!
Amy was a rich American girl in her early 20s on vacation in Egypt. It was a solo trip planned after breaking up with her boyfriend of 2 years. She needed a change of scenery to forget about her ex and possibly to meet somebody. She was from a very Christian family in rural Texas but became very superficial and arrogant growing up. In her eyes all that mattered was being attractive and confident, and she had the whole package. She was casually strolling along the beach in a very crowded area wearing a skimpy black bikini to show off her toned body when an old local man who was sipping some tea in the shadow began complained about the lack of decency these foreigners were showing when visiting the country and addressed in his poor English: “You must show less skin! Women modest here!”. “Get lost, old man!” – replied to him Amy – “I have no time to waste listening to you! You’re just envious women don’t look that good in this shithole country!” – needless to say, she was also quite racist. “I can’t stand these towel heads!” – she thought. The old man, angry and humiliated, walked away cursing the young woman and headed to the nearest Mosque. There, he asked Allah to teach a lesson to that arrogant infidel woman, who showed no respect to the glorious country and people of Egypt.
The old man’s prayers were not unnoticed by the Almighty. Amy kept on walking along the beach when she began feeling a little weird. Unnoticed by her, her hair turned brown and her skin tanned slightly. Her eyes also gained some pigment, becoming green. She still looked like a white girl but nobody would have recognised her for who she was. The curse was starting to have effect although she was still oblivious to it. She thought she was just a little dehydrated so she sipped some water she had with her and laid down on the sand to have some rest. The dizziness waned a bit while a sense of fatigue took over her. She laid down on the sand and dozed off. Meanwhile, the old man was still praying in the mosque. “In the Name of God, the Infinitely Good, the All-Merciful. Make this infidel woman one of our sister and take the arrogance and sinful nature away from her.” While laying down, her skin tanned even further, until she was much more than she had ever been. Her hair darkened to a rich jet black color and curled up to become frizzy. Her eyebrows quickly darkened too to match her hair. Her tiny nose grew more pointy, giving her a distinctive Arab look. To complete the transformation, her green eyes became hazel, then brown and finally black and took a vaguely oriental shape, her lips became fuller while still looking natural.
Amy, now looking 100% Arab, woke up feeling much better and decided to walk back to her hotel. Still under the influence of an odd daze, she didn’t notice most of the changes occurred to her, she only realised how tanned she’d become, and thought “Wow, the sun is so strong down here! I’m going to look gorgeous with my new tan!”. To complete his prayer, the old man added “Open her heart to the Quran and its language! Glorious is my Lord the most great!”. He stood up and left the Mosque, confident that his prayers were not left unanswered.
Indeed, the changes weren’t over yet though as Amy’s brain was beginning to replace her native English with Arabic, until she had the Arabic proficiency of a native speaker and only the basic English knowledge a local girl could have learned at school and from movies. On her way back to the hotel, a group of young Egyptian men complimented her on her looks with whistles and loud comments. “How dare they? Wait, were they talking in Arabic to me? How did I understand that?” – she thought, not realising that she was even thinking in Arabic now. As she regained more mental clarity she began noticing how her frizzy hair was tingling her shoulders. Initially she thought the sea humidity had affected her hair but when she grabbed it she was shocked at noticing how completely different it looked compared to her usual hair. Freaking out, she rushed to her hotel, where the receptionist looked at her, surprised to see an Arab girl dressed like that. She entered her room and rushed to the bathroom to inspect herself.
She stared at herself in utter disbelief. Staring back at her was a complete stranger, a young woman with very distinctive Arab or North African features. Moving her head and body and seeing a brown girl’s reflection in the mirror moving accordingly was a surreal experience. She spent several minutes staring at her reflection without being able to utter a single word. She took her bikini off to inspect her intimate parts, to find that her aureolas had become dark brown and her pubic hair black and curly. She was not only shocked by her identity having been stolen but also by the fact that she had been turned into one of the Arab women she used to look at with arrogance and prejudice. “Kayf hadath hadha?” – she asked herself loudly- how did this happen? Hearing the harsh Arabic sounds coming out of her mouth instead of the smooth valley girl English accent she was accustomed to shocked her. She brought her brown hands to her mouth and tried to speak English again. “My English is corr… corrupted?” – she said, mortified at how thick her Arabic accent was. Great, she also sounded like a local now. She tested her English knowledge and found it to be very limited. For many words she only knew the Arabic version now, to the point that she could only think in Arabic first and the translate in English later.
She slowly dressed up again and sat at the desk, without knowing what to do next. She noticed a copy of the Quran which was always present in hotel rooms in the Islamic country and felt compelled to open it randomly, just to distract herself from her situation. She suddenly realised she could even read the Arabic script now. Her dark eyes got caught by a very specific surah: “Indeed, Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is in themselves.” With a gasp she closed the Holy Book and thought “No, that can’t be possible! Dear God help me, I don’t want to become a Muslim!” She tried to recall any Christian prayer from her childhood but as she began to say one of them she realised that even those had been replaced by Surah from the Quran. In fact, everything she knew about Jesus now was from the Quran, where he was describes as Isa. Funny enough, for an all-American party girl like her, she had the knowledge of a practicing Muslim. She felt so violated even in her thoughts she felt like not much of her was left intact by this incredible curse. She was still struggling to accept what was happening to her but she had to concede that something supernatural was going on. One does not change ethnicity naturally. Maybe Allah was indeed real and she had offended him with her behaviour.
She grabbed her curly hair and tried to think through her situation. She recalled the old man and realised he must have cursed her or something. She thought that maybe leaving the country would make the curse vanish, so she anticipated her return fight to that afternoon, put on some sporty gear and headed to the airport. In order to not get caught by the hotel receptionist, who had already looked suspiciously at her, she left most of her luggage in the hotel room and left with a light backpack. At the airport, she tried to casually go though security showing her passport but as she now looked completely different from the picture, they rejected her and took away her passport, assuming it had been stolen. In fact, she was lucky they didn’t arrest her. Still, hesitation was very precarious. Stuck there with no documents and little money left, Amy sat in despair, wondering what to do next. As the clothed had gotten dirty, she changed into the other outfit she had brought with her and took the subway back to the city, where she would figure out what to do.
On her way back from the airport, Amy noticed the old man who had cursed her from the subway window. She got off at the next stop and began searching for him. She finally managed to find him and told him “’ana alfatat fi albikini! aunzur madha hadath lay!” – I am the girl in bikini! Look what has happened to me! The old man smiled and laconically commented that Allah is the best planner. As he was about to leave her there and walk away, she sat aside all her pride, went down on her knees and begged him to help her as she had lost her passport and was almost out of money. The old man felt sorry for her, told her to show up in the same place the day after at the same time, this time dressed in decent Islamic covering and he would see what he could do to help her out. Mortified, Amy spent her last money on a coat covering her body shape and a headscarf and headed back to her hotel, where she spent the evening learning how to style it. Never in a million years she thought she would ever have to cover her hair with a headscarf.
Amy had to admit that now she could fit in much better with the local population as nobody would notice one more Arab girl dressed in an Islamic fashion. The man was waiting for her at the same place as the day before. She humbly bowed her head and told him, in Arabic: “I’m sorry for what I said. I’ll do as you wish, please help me!” “I’m happy to see you have truly changed. Moreover, you look much more beautiful now. Now, I understand that you have no money or identity to support yourself here and obviously you can’t leave the country right now, so here’s what I can offer you. My son is struggling to find a woman, marry him, be a good Muslim wife and you we will provide for you. You will have a honest, decent life and won’t need to work.” The perspective of being stuck in that body and becoming a housewife for life terrified her but she didn’t see any other way out. She learned to adapt to her new life and became a devout Muslim. She would always ask the Almighty to be able to accept her new life.
Olga was a rich and beautiful Russian girl, daughter of a famous oligarch. She was enjoying a life of luxury attending the most glamorous parties in the world when the international sanctions hit her and her family wealth. Every asset was frozen and she barely had enough savings to live a dignified life for a few weeks at most. Not being able to land any job to provide for herself, she panicked. By chance, she heard from a Chinese diplomat that his country was offering assistance to Russian citizens in trouble due to the sanctions. She provided them her credentials and was immediately offered help. She would be flown to China where they would take care of her. Not having other choices, she signed some forms in Chinese she didn’t bother to translate and she almost immediately boarded to Beijing.
She was then administered a potent sedative on the plane and passed out. When she regained consciousness her head was covered in bandages. She couldn’t see anything, all she could do was to scream and beg somebody to give her an explanation. A nurse approached her, told her to lie down and rest. She added that there was nothing to worry about as everything went according to plan. “What plan?” – Olga asked, freaking out. The nurse was struggling with her English but referred to a contract she had signed and that she would be given the best chance to settle in the country. Olga insisted she wanted to speak to the manager of the hospital, so she was granted an appointment with him. She also obtained a permission to remove her bandages, although she was not allowed to see herself in the mirror for some reason.
When she met him she was told she had agreed, among other things, to undergo a series of procedures meant to give her the appearance of a native Cinese girl. Apparently the government was exploiting cases like hers to do something about the gender imbalance that had been afflicting China for some time. Her facial features were remodelled by fat tissue injections, she got a reverse nose job to flatten it, her natural blonde hair was permanently replaced by transplanting straight black hair in its place and her eyes were turned black by covering the irises with artificial pigments, after having altered their shape. The poor girl fainted when she heard all this but that didn’t stop the surgeons from finishing their job with the remaining procedures. She had her vocal cords modified in order to gain a very high pitched voice tone Chinese society found attractive in women, without being able to ever lower her pitch to her old one. She would basically always sound like a cute kawaii teenage girl from now on.
As for her language skills, being Chinese one of the most difficult languages to learn, they decided to inject her nanobots replacing her Russian and English knowledge with Chinese. In a matter of a few, shocking minutes she could only speak or think in flawless Mandarin Chinese. At this point Olga realised her old life was completely over. Even if she managed to escape the country, she would always be seen as a stranger even in her native Russia and she would have absolutely any chance of convincing people about who she really was. She wasn’t even able to pronounce her name anymore! At this point, when the medical commission following her case realised she had finally accepted her destiny, they decided it was time for her to see her new face.
When she was finally given a small mirror to begin to familiarise with her new appearance her reaction couldn’t have been worse. She knew exactly what to expect at that point but seeing her new features through her pretty Asian eyes was absolutely overwhelming. She screamed in her new high-pitched voice and threw away the mirror. How could she, a wealthy Russian young woman, look like every other Asian girl, she screamed out loud. She had actually been given well-defined features but certain stereotyped were hard to die. Nothing a few months of re-education couldn’t fix, the members of the medical commission thought.
Before anything else, Olga demanded to see the contract she signed. She was told to ask to the surgeon in charge of her surgeries. She found him, quickly told him her demands in fluent Mandarin. He opened her file and showed her the forms she signed what seemed to be a long time before. Now she was actually able to read and understand it, so when she realised what she had really signed, she understood that they didn’t do anything she had not agreed about, even if unknowingly. The doctor went on to explain Olga her new identity. “You are Yuja Zheng, 25 years old, Han Chinese. Your facial features have been optimised in order to make you attractive to Chinese young men. Your pheromone level was also altered to drive guys crazy.”
“You don’t have a family obviously, so we prepared a made-up story according to which you grew up in an orphanage. You have a rather low educational level and have a lowly paid job as a secretary in a big company. “ “I can’t believe this” – said Yuja, who couldn’t hide her feelings at the perspective of total identity death and started to weep. The doctor tried to comfort her but honestly didn’t care too much, she was just a number and anyway she would soon undergo extensive re-education so accepting her new identity would eventually come naturally to her.
Indeed, the chinified girl was subjected to exhausting sessions in specific rehabilitation centres meant to erase most of her previous identity and to force her to surrender to her inevitable fate. Any memory associated to her previous like was associated to painful feelings, while thinking about the implanted notions about her new identity was rewarded with endorphins. She tried to hold on to her old identity, national pride and knowledge but eventually all she could think of herself is that she used to be a Gweilo from some European country and now was a Chinese girl named Yuja. Any further attempts of accessing her old memories vanished in a flash of pain. Eventually, she was released from the facility and left free to live her new life.
Yuja began working as a secretary, used her meagre wage to buy herself some new clothes and to dye her hair light brown to pay tribute to her forgotten heritage, and moved on with her life. When one of her coworker, a mediocre clerk, asked her out, she asked herself “Why not?” – after all, it would have brought some novelty to her life. The two started dating and she realised she actually liked the guy. They had a lot in common in terms of food, movies and other things, and even though it all came from the conditioning she underwent, it still felt like a genuine connection was developing. When, a few months later the guy proposed to her despite her lack of family and wealth she struggled to hold her tears back and said yes to him.
Ann was a contestant of the new season of the dating show “Love is blind”. She would be talking to potential partners through a wall, so that she would not know how the men looked like. Eventually, when a couple of people liked each other enough, they would agree to meeting in person. The new feature of the latter season, introduced by the authors of the show to increase ite popularity and to prevent it from getting repetitive, was that participants now could undergo surgeries to match their potential partners’ preferences. Love isn’t blind after all! Ann eventually met a guy she had a great chemistry with, Rahul, an Indian-American engineer. The two shared lots of interests, a similar sense of humor and sensitivity but Rahul eventually admitted that his family would struggle to accept a non-Indian girlfriend for him. Ann was heartbroken as she really felt like he was the one. The producers then contacted her to offer a set of medical procedures aimed at turning her into Rahul’s potential partner. They would darken her skintone, remodel her facial features and even change her voice to make her look and sound like a girl of pure Indian origins.
Ann felt confused and scared at the perspective of permanently changing her ethnicity. As much as she liked Rahul, she would not have gone that far to make it work. However, when she said she’d grown cold feet and was not going to agree with that, she was shown a clause of the contract she’d signed before joining the show, binding her to accepting to everything the producers would offer her to facilitate romance in the show. Ann contacted her lawyer who could only confirm what had just been told her. When she talked to Rahul, he had mixed feelings. On one hand, he felt guilty for indirectly forcing Ann to undergo such an extensive procedure due to his comment. Also, he would be sorry not to be able to see Ann’s original caucasian body and face. On the other hand, he had to admit that the perspective of being able to marry the girl he liked so much was very exciting. Also, he was looking forward to seeing how she would turn out after the surgeries. Ann was still struggling to accept her fate when she was told that the first set of surgeries was scheduled for the following day.
To make the process less shocking and to give her more time to adjust to her new identity, they began with very fine-tuned surgeries on her vocal cords, tongue and lips. Minor adjustments that were able to force her to always speak with a mild, although clearly detectable, Indian accent. No matter how hard she tried to speak normally, but the D’s and T’s always came out just like an Indian girl would utter them and her voice tone became song-like even when she wanted to sound flat. Ann couldn’t believe she sneaked like that now. Still shocked at how she sounded, Ann headed to the room from where she would usually talk to Rahul, from behind a screen. When she started talking, she began immediately warning him “Listen Rahul, I know you are not going to believe this is me but you have to trust me!” “Are you serious? What did they do to you?” “I… Don’t know, I think some sort of surgery. I’m a little scared Rahul… I don’t really sound like myself anymore, I cannot even call my family now, they won’t believe this is me! These people can take away my whole identity if they modify me further!” “I will always be there for you Ann!”
Indeed, when they proceeded with the next surgeries, they completely twisted her identity: her nose was widened, her lips made fuller, her facial features made more exotic. Moreover, the increased level of melanin was showing throughout her whole body: her once light skin had now a sexy mocha colour, her hazel eyes were turned dark brown, almost black. Even her straight brown hair was replaced by wavy, black hair. As a finishing touch, they gave her some more curves to flaunt. “Oh my Lord” – she exclaimed – “is that me? I thought I would look like an Indian version of myself but I carry no resemblance with my old self, I look like a completely different person. This is so weird…” – she thought, caressing her black hair with her brown hands. She had always secretly admired the beauty of exotic women and was now finding it surprising exciting to look like them now. As much as she knew she was going to miss her former self, she thought “Rahul is going to like this. I look pretty hot to be honest.” Ann kept on staring at herself in the mirror for hours before Rahul joined her in the room to finally meet her in person.
“Like what you see, babe?” “Oh my God, you look incredible! I have no idea how you looked before but you could be a model now!” “Trust me, I looked pretty hot before too!” “Of course Ann!” Ann felt pissed at how light-minded sounded Rahul about all of this – “Do you realise I completely changed my body for you? You better like this! Oh God, this is so kinky! You know, I hated you at first for making me go through this!” “It is pretty kinky indeed, I didn’t want to sound insensitive but I found the idea of you sacrificing your own race and identity is a big turn on for me!” “Don’t worry” – she sighed – “I get that. I… I find it pretty hot too. The idea of dating interracially has always stirred me but the fact that I was made one of you… that I look and sound Indian now is wild!”
“Oh, that also gave me bigger boobs, I like that honestly!” – said Ann with a smile – “Some changes have been definitely improvements… I also like this black, curly hair more than my own…” “So you admit you’re hotter now?” “I… I guess we Indian women are indeed hotter than boring white women, haha!” “I like the sound of that!” – Rahul reflected for a moment, then continued “Ann, do we have a future together?” “Rahul, after all I went through the last think I want is to break up with you. This body was made for you and will remain yours and yours only!” “One last thing, when you’ll be introduced to my family your name would sound suspicious, would you mind being called Anaya from now on?” Ann looked at herself in the mirror and replied “I definitely don’t look like an Ann anymore… Anaya, I like the sound of that, it sounds so natural to me now! Yes, I want to be Anaya from now on!”
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Chelsea had been a very competitive girl since her childhood, so it felt only natural when she decided she wanted to be a professional runner. She was very committed to her training sessions, diet and everything but it seemed like she had hit a barrier she couldn’t overcome. She was constantly beaten by Afro-American girls for the top spots in US national competitions, which was crushing her spirits, being a bit of a white suprematist. Such an irony that she chose one of the few professional fields where whites had a serious disadvantage against Blacks.
One day, after having lost yet another decisive race to make it for the US national team at the next olympics she felt utterly crushed. She was 19 and she already knew she had no hopes of getting where she wanted to get. However, she was approached by a man who told her she had been noticed for her potential by a company who was offering to support her with massive sponsorships if she agreed to partecipate to a new program which would boost athletes’ performances in a perfectly legal way. Chelsea was so desperate to stop feeling like a loser she accepted it.
Chelsea underwent some scans and was given a taylor-suited genetic booster aimed at improving her performances.
After a few weeks, she noticed her results were getting better, along with some other changes. Her skin was darkening quickly, along with her hair.
She contacted her medical team about this and was told it was just a minot side effect of the genetic treatment.
A few more weeks later though and the changes began hard not to notice.
Chelsea’s skin tone was dark brown, her hair jet black and wavy, her eyes dark brown and even her facial features were taking an African flavour.
Finally, Chelsea was revealed the full plan: the genetic treatments were aimed at replacing her DNA with that of a Black woman in order to improve her performances.
Chelsea was shocked but realised it was too late to back off now. She had sighed a contract with a huge release clause fee so there was no way out right now.
At first the shock was such that she found it hard to push herself to train regularly, so she took some time off to recover from the shocking news. Then, when she regained control over herself and decided to put all her effort into her athletic career.
She was initially struggling to gain muscle mass but then her new genes kicked in the her performances improved again. She had to admit that something had indeed changed for the better. Maybe she had more natural testosterone or the fine structure of her muscle cells was more suited to physical activities but she could feel her whole body was performing better than before now.
Being from a rural area where people had pretty narrow views on racial issues, she lost many friends due to her decision and burned bridges with her family, who did not accept her radical transformation. At first if felt very hard and Chelsea began to wonder if she had sacrificed too much for success but eventually she made new friends, especially among the African-American community. She also began to feel strongly attracted to Black men, maybe she had a better chemistry with them due to her new genetics, she thought.
After a few months, she had gained significant muscle mass and was ready to compete against the very best in the country.
Her muscle tone had made her figure fuller in an unusually attractive way for a sprinter. She had to concede that not only Black girls performed better but also looked hotter.
When she made her comeback on the national stage everybody in the community was shocked by the dramatic change in her appearance. However, where was nothing illegal about it according to any anti-doping regulations.
Seeing her competitors on the track was pretty surreal as she used to be the only serious white competitor fighting with African-American athletes for the podium and now she had made the field even more Black dominated. She was ashamed of that and hated having had to join the “melanin team” as they liked to call themselves but her only goal was winning and she was willing to sacrifice everything in order to achieve it.
She easily made it to the finals and won the sprint race by a good margin, for the first time in her career.
When she finally found some time for herself she began to process what had happened.
She had finally done it, it had costed her a lot but she managed to win the US championships and to be chosen to be part of the US olympic team, her biggest dream.
To celebrate the occasion, she decided to get her hair styled in dreadlocks, showing how deeply she had embraced her new ethnicity and that she had not only adopted it for convenience.
She was now regularly interviewed and always claimed against her will that she felt proud to be African-American now and would use her newfound visibility to denounce colourist and to fight for minorities’ rights.
It always costed her a lot to lie that way as deep down she was always the all-American, white suprematist girl she used to be and felt deeply humiliated by having had to give up on her fair skin, blue eyes and blonde hair that used to be her pride but now she had a new successful career in front of her and nothing was going to stop her anymore.
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Karen was a young, gorgeous and brilliant lawyer with a dark side. She was pretty racist. Indeed, she came to like her job so much also due to the fact that it involved shutting down businesses in the bad part of town. It wasn’t something she could say loud though, with all the fuss about political correctness these days, it would harm her career. Still, while most of the other firms avoided serving notice to small businesses in the ghetto, she loved doing it! She took great pleasure in notifying that personally to the unlucky business owners. In her mind, it was a step closer to helping the city get rid of the scum living there until the whole place would be cleaned up eventually. Despite her attempts to keep this side of her secret, she began to earn a bad reputation in that part of town, to the point that as soon as she was seen around, people were already worrying for the worst. One day, some businesses decided to join forces and prepare a counterattack. One day she entered a beauty parlour, a family business run by the Williams, to serve notice to them. She was immediately taken aback by all the people there, mostly African-American, staring at her. Before she could serve the notice directly, she was told she was the 1’000’000th customer of that renewed beauty parlour and she had won a full beauty treatment.
The place didn’t seem to be in great shape, surrounded as it was by rundown buildings and walls covered in graffiti, pretty dirty inside as well, but Karen thought it would have been wise to avoid direct confrontations with all of those people there, pretend to be a normal customer and serve the papers when it was time to leave, so she could safely reach her car pretty quickly. Also, it would be quite ironic to get a free service before forcing them to shut down the whole business, she thought. However, her papers slipped out of her purse and got noticed by the business owners who decided to get their retribution on her. First of all, they offered to take care of her gorgeous blonde mane, her pride since teenage years. She was a bit skeptical as they weren’t probably used to deal with Caucasian hair but it was supposed to be easier to deal with that kinky Afro hair, right? Her hair was covered in a dark conditioner, rinsed and blown in an old and noisy hairdryer hood. She realised something was wrong as the hairdresser, a tall and full-figured Black woman began to mumble something about that old machinery, and possibly hair dye left in the circuits by previous customers. When she checker herself in the mirror, she realised they had dyed her hair jet black.
“What the fuck have you done to my hair? You had one job, and you messed it up and turned it black?” She was about to let some racial sluts slip in but noticed how the men in the room, a half dozen tall and hunky guys, probably boyfriends of the girls working there who had nothing better to do were getting nervous at this white bitch getting all worked up for a hair dye. “We apologise Miss! We’d like to offer you a full body treatment as a gift to forgive us.” She wasn’t very allured by the idea but she thought that notifying the papers now with so much tension in the air could be dangerous, so she decided to accept the proposal and wait some time. They gave her a free pass for a tanning bed where she laid down for half an hour, wondering why did Black people need tanning beds. Not that White people should use them, she thought, it just made no sense at all to her to make an effort to darken one’s skin colour. Meanwhile, the owners of the businesses took all her documents and bankcards from her purse, together with the keys of her car, which was swiftly moved somewhere else not to draw attention. A brand new Mercedes in that part of town wouldn’t go unnoticed after all. When Karen re-emerged from the tanning booth she looked like a different person compared to a hour before, with her tan skin and black hair but they had still so much stored for her.
She noticed her skin looked unnaturally tan, almost brown but before she could see herself in the mirror, she was taken to an aesthetician who began working on her face. She worked on her eyebrows, making them thinner, applying permanent eyelash extensions, lip plumper and other cosmetics aimed at making her look even more exotic. Finally, she slipped in her eyes black colour contact lenses that could only be removed surgically. Karen had been brewing some worries for some time now as they didn’t let her see her face yet, they didn’t allow her to grab her purse and phone and everybody seemed to be staring at her, so when was finally allowed to see herself in the mirror, she rushed towards the closest makeup mirror, grabbed it and nearly fainted at the sight of her face. Dark brown irises were staring back at her, surrounded by black, long eyelashes. Her eyebrows, also black, were thin and shaped to her face a trashy look. Her inflated lips, together with her deep tan seemed to suggest a mixed background. “Shit, these fuckers must have never had a White woman as customer. I’ll make them pay for this too when I’ll make them file for bankruptcy” – she thought.
“I’m not sure how to get away with this mess, I’ll have to tell people I went on vacation in the Caribbeans or something”. So she didn’t overreact and asked politely “Ehm, I love my new look. Could you please dye my hair back to blonde though?.” “Hmm, let’s see, your hair might get a bit dry if we bleach it blonde again. Are you sure you don’t want to remain a brunette?” “I’m not a brunette, just dye my hair back to blonde please!” – replied Karen, frustrated. “As you want”. The lady worked on her hair with all her tools and shampoos, designed for Afro hair and meant to keep curls nourished and health. This, mixed with the drying effect of the dye turned Karen’s hair into a straw-coloured kinky mess. Together with her darker complexion, it looked completely fake. Karen was starting to freak out touching her hair and feeling such a coarse texture. “I told you, you look better as a brunette girl! Let me work my magic!” – smiled the hairdresser, enjoying her reaction. Karen was too shocked to react and when she did her hair was already soaked in black dye.
“Hey, stop messing around with my hair!” “Quiet, girl!” – said the strong Black girl, holding Karen tight with her muscular arms. A short time later, after having applied afro hair conditioner and curler she let Karen look at herself once more in the mirror, now sporting black curly hair. She had to admit she indeed looked better this way, although it completed her exotic look and made now look her further down the white-black ethnic spectrum. She grabbed her hair and stared in disbelieve at the reflection staring back at her. The mocha skinned, brown-eyed, black haired beauty staring back at her had nothing to do with the nordic beauty that entered the ghetto a few hours before. How was she going to explain this to people? God, she looked Black! “Is the lady satisfied?” – asked the hairdresser, mockingly. Karen grinned as she tried to grasp for her expensive purse but the lady handed her a cheap and flashy pink purse only containing some cigarettes and a few but tickets. No documents, no car keys, no wallet. “I’m a lawyer” – exploded Karen – ”You won’t get away with this!”
Karen rushed out of the beauty parlour, headed to the police station. She soon realised she was too far to walk there so she reluctantly used the bus tickets found in her new purse to get there, attracting the unwelcome attention of the men, mostly Black, sitting in her bus. When she finally arrived, she stormed in the police station, presenting herself as Karen Richardson. She was well known to the people there due to her professional activity so when this brown lady claimed to ber her, she made everybody in the department laugh. The laughters stopped however when she couldn’t produce any document. Karen suddenly realised how compromised her situation was: she had claimed an identity she could not prove nor was there any profile with photos matching her current looks. The policemen simply assumed she was yet another prostitute, probably on drugs and sent her straight to a cell. After an intense night spent with her cellmates, a couple of lesbian black girls who found Karen’s lithe body a welcome distraction from their dull lives, Karen was rescued the morning after by the son of the owner of the beauty parlour, who felt bad for her and paid the caution, claiming she was his girlfriend. Karen’s expensive dress got stolen by her cellmates, who provided her as the only option some very revealing shorts, combined with fishnet stockings and a leather jacket, making her look nothing different from a hooker. Ashamed and confused, she hugged the Black man and cried on his shoulders.
Karen soon realised she had lost everything. A few days later she lost her job as her firm found out she had been in custody, disguised as a black woman. Her white boyfriend dumped her as he was disgusted by her new look. Still crippled by student debt, Karen was forced to accept the only decent job offer she could find and ended up working for a small legal firm aiming at defending the rights of people of colour, eventually saving the beauty parlour owners from bankruptcy. She settled in a small and smelly apartment in the ghetto area she once wanted to clean up. In order to disguise her real identity to avoid further retributions by those she had persecuted in the past, she had to keep up with the Afro hair, brown skin and eye contacts permanently on. She also changed her name into Khloe. When the young man who rescued her from jail began hitting on her she initially didn’t give him a chance as she hated them all for what they did to her. Then, she realised that now that their business was thriving again, it was probably her only chance to have a decent life, plus she noticed how muscular and attractive he was, and felt oddly turned on by how his dark skin matched so well her new complexion, she decided to go with the flow and began dating him. A few months later, Karen was adjusting her wedding gown considering what a strange turn of events made her, a racist White woman embrace her new life as a Black woman, Khloe Williams, married to her fantastic Black husband.
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