Rebranded

Emma was a pretty blonde girl with great ambitions but no specific interest apart from feeling pretty. It was then pretty natural for her to become a model. She got hired by an important modelling agency thanks to her looks. However, a couple of years later the cultural shift began hitting the modelling industry with full intensity.
Her modelling company realised they had too many white models and nearly no models of colour. It wasn’t even their fault, as white girls seemed to be more confident about their attractiveness and hence overrepresented in the modelling sector.
As the company became to be targeted by the press for their policies they were given little choice but to redeem themselves by means of the diversity shot. Using crispr technologies, it changed the recipient’s DNA to make their ethnicity match the desired one.
Emma was chosen as the natural candidate as the blondest one and so the one that attracted the most criticism for inciting colourism.

The stunning blonde thought about it and realised she had little choice. With no formal education and no acting or singing skills, modelling was her only option. Finding a modelling job at the age of 21 was getting increasingly difficult, especially for a skinny blonde girl like herself as that aesthetics was now getting out of fashion.
If she accepted she would be sponsored by one of the leading fashion brands on Earth and would be provided free clothes for every public appearance she would make.
She was pretty conservative on race matters so she hated the idea of losing her ethnicity for her career and the whole diversity propaganda sounded very wrong to her but she could be a successful model if she accepted and probably they would just turn her a little darker, she was skeptical than these technologies could really change people’s ethnicity as radically as they claimed they could.
After these considerations, she accepted and signed the contract binding her to the medical procedures. They started already the following day as the DNA-changing serum was ready for use.

Emma was given a potent sedative, then the shot was administered. In a matter of a few days, her Caucasian DNA was flushed away and replaced by an exotic mix of ethnicities. When she woke up and saw herself in the mirror she was shocked.
“What… What am I now?” Emma asked.
“So, we decided to turn you into a multiracial woman. That way we can check multiple boxes in the list of ethnicities we want to represent. Your DNA is 50% Hispanic, 30% sub-Saharan African and 20% East Asian. It seems to be the most attractive combination of ethnicities according to our experts.”
Emma felt dumbstruck – “No caucasian DNA at all?” – she asked after a while.
“Well, technically Hispanic means you have some ancestors from Spain, together with Native Central and South American…”
“Great – she told herself – now the whitest ancestry I can claim to have is Spanish, I used to be of full German and Scandinavian ancestry, sigh!”
She couldn’t believe they completely changed her appearance from a Nordic beauty to a curvy brown woman.

Checking herself in the mirror, Emma recognised the different ethnicities contributing to her genetic makeup. She had the brown complexion, body type and some facial features of Latinas, the full lips, shapely butt and curly hair of Black women and remarkably Asian eyes. She was indeed the perfect mix to attract the attention of everybody.
She was trying on some of the outfits sent to her when she began complaining: “Fuck, everything I wear makes my butt look huge, it’s so vulgar!”
“You were given gorgeous curves, flaunt them!” – commented one of the employees of her agency.
“Is that what men want nowadays, short stacked brown girls flaunting their butts?”
“Yes, according to our survey. You have the perfect body by today’s standards of beauty! Marilyn Monroe is not a beauty reference anymore, you know!”
“I guess you’re right. But why do I have to wear such vulgar outfits? Oh no please don’t make me wear this!”
“You need to appear confident in your new body, remember you will have to say you wanted this and are now happy to embody the beauty of women of colour.”

Playing with her outfits, makeup and hairstyle they realised they could highlight different features, making her more relatable to different ethnicities. For example, with proper makeup, straightening her hair and hiding her shapely figure she could pass for a mixed woman of predominantly East Asian heritage.
They spent hour styling her before the photoshoot, when they were done they let her look at herself in the mirror.
Emma was shocked “OMFG you’re right, I do look kinda Asian! ”. She honestly didn’t mind that at all. She was a bit disappointed at how dark and curvy she had become, but she didn’t mind her new partial Asian heritage as she had always secretly envied the beauty of East Asian women. Now then a lighter foundation, a makeup that brought out her Asian eyes and perfectly straight hair she liked her self image for the first time after the transformation. The photoshoot was really enjoyable and Emma didn’t realised several hours had passed at the end of it.
However, when the shooting was over and the makeup removed she returned to her new brown self. Within a few days her hair began to curl up again and her Asian heritage began barely noticeable.

The next photoshoot was aimed at Latina customers.
Straightening her hair again and applying extensions to make her hair a lot longer already gave her a different look. Makeup was applied again and a kerchief completed the look to make her easily pass for a full blooded Latina. She also had to wear outfits that highlighted her curvy body instead of hiding it like they did before, completing the transformation.
“No wonder I can easily look like a typical Latina, I am basically one of them now – she said”.
The chola style didn’t suit her personality in the slightest. Emma was a refined girl who liked jazz music and literature. Embodying this style and beauty felt alien to her. She wasn’t a big fan of the hispanicization of America so seeing herself in the body of a hot Latina was always a bit of a shock. However, she was a professional and carried on without showing her true feelings.
The pictures turned out to be exceptionally hot and she was told the modelling agency and the fashion brand she was working with now were extremely happy with the results.

Her next photoshoot was aimed at Black customers, so they had to make her more relatable to them.
Instead of straightening her hair, they let her natural black curls loose and made her wear clothes highlighting her shapely rear. Together with a few aesthetic adjustments like wearing large earrings made everybody perceive her as a lightskin Black woman.
“OMG are you sure I’m just 30% black? I look pretty much fully Black right now!” – she commented when she saw herself.
“Absolutely – they confirmed – but African genes are pretty dominant so don’t be surprised they are so visible.”
This was pretty distressing for her. She wasn’t racist but she know how Black women were treated in her country. Being an ethnically ambiguous brown girl was weird but still tolerable, while seeing herself as a Black girl scared her a bit. Had she gone too far for her career? She also noticed how little effort was needed to make her appear unmistakably black as her natural hair and features kinda gave that away easily. The makeup artists had to put more efforts to make her pass as Asian or Latina than Black. Was that what she was now? A mixed girl struggling to accept her Black side? The thought scared Emma, while exciting her at the same time at some deep level.

For the next photoshoot Emma begged to be allowed to dye her hair blonde to try to look white once again but they didn’t allow her to damage her beautiful black hair and to claim an identity she didn’t own anymore.
They proposed instead to try on a blonde wig in combination with a different style compared to usual.
However, her brown skin and black eyes made her look unmistakably Latina. They went for a weird goth-inspired look that offended her religious sensitivity so she quickly ended it and asked them to forget about her request. However, she managed to keep the wig, which she would wear from time to time to feel more like herself again.
Emma tried to live as usual but noticed people treated her differently now. She also had a lot less freedom now as the story of her transformation had caught the attention of the media so she quickly became known as the first preeminent transracial model in America. This tag disturbed her a lot but she couldn’t deny her earnings skyrocketed since her transformation.

On the other side, Emma learned the hard way that her contract protected her image at the point that she always had to wear fashion clothes provided by her sponsor every time she made a public appearance. As she had now became a superstar, even her private trips became public as photographers were following her everywhere.
So, even when she went on dates she had to pick up outfits from a few ones dictated by her sponsor, which really bothered her as she hated wearing the revealing outfits she was given. Not that her body shape could be easily hidden but she nevertheless felt she was sending the wrong message by dressing like a slut at the first date, as it was something her former self would have never done.
She felt like a doll dressed by somebody else and with no possibilities to express her true self anymore, which stressed her out a lot. On the other hand, her new body had a much higher sex drive, so she felt the need to date men.
Initially she dated only white men as she was used to but she realised now things had changed in her race relationships. Some of them didn’t hide they had a preference for Latina/mixed girls. This was a turn off for her as she didn’t like to be appreciated for something out of her control like her new fake ethnicity while others seemed to be turned off by the fact that she had so little pride in herself to accept to have her ethnicity changed from white to mixed. Eventually she gave up on them and reluctantly begun dating Hispanic men.

Dating a Hispanic guy felt exciting and wrong at the same time. She felt a connection with him she didn’t have anymore with white guys as Hispanics saw her as one of them. Moreover, the picture of her brown body together with a brown man turned her on massively.
On the other hand, her conservative upbringing made her feel guilty about dating somebody outside her race, even though now she wasn’t white anymore. She later decided to stop dating the guy and to renew her image to make it closer to her true self. She began wearing a long blonde wig that reminded herself of her original hair and started wearing larked silky dresses covering her curvy figure as much as possible instead of highlighting it. Catching reflections of herself mede her feel good as she saw a dignified blonde woman like she used to be. “I don’t care about the contract – she told herself – I have enough savings and followers online to start my own company.“ However, this did not go unnoticed by the fashion brand she had a contract with. They fined her, taking away nearly all her savings, exploiting a clause of her contract that mentioned possible breaches of her duties. On top of that, they seized all her wigs and privately owned dresses and forced her to wear exactly what they wanted every single day. Emma felt attacked and scared but again she had no choice but to obey.

To help her readjust to her body image the fashion company sent her an agent to advise her and to enforce the company’s policies on her style, Val. She was an attractive young Black woman who was well aware of Emma’s story and secretly loved the idea that white models were now being turned into women of colour.
“What do you mean, I need to stop acting too white, I am white, you know?” – said Emma after the lady expressed her company’s views.
“Not anymore, you need to change that. Stop being prudish about your butt, we gave it to you to show it around. You were photographed wearing wig and covering your body, that sent a deeply concerning message to all women of colour. Also, do you know how many followers did you lose on your Instagram profile? That means a loss of visibility for us! If we want to reverse that narrative, we need a complete change in your behaviour and the way you present yourself.”
“But I’m not used to oozing sexuality, it’s too much for me” – cried poor Emma – “I’m just a blonde white girl from a conservative background!”
“Hmm, maybe dating the right people could give you the confidence boost you need – replied a pensive Val – We saw you were dating a Hispanic actor recently, what happened with him?”
“Oh, it didn’t work out between us – replied Emma, too embarrassed to admit that she wasn’t feeling comfortable dating non-white men.”

“Too bad, your popularity was rising a lot thanks to that. People loved how you were connecting with other people of colour. But we’ll take care of that. Your private life is linked to your public image so we are allowed to provide some guidance on that.”
“What do you mean?” – asked a worried Emma.
“You’ll see!” – said Val, smiling.
A few days later…
“I don’t understand, why have all of my outfits been replaced with shiny black leather dresses? Hell, even my nails got painted in black!”
Val simply said it had to do with her new public image and that she should get used to it.
The reason was that they wanted her to send subliminal messages she was ready to date a black man. That shiny black leather is subliminally perceived as black skin by Black men who would then see her as a more likely partner.
She had several photoshoots where she was flanked by a male Black model starring as her partner for advertisement pictures and so on, sometimes she even had to pretend she was carrying their baby. Family photoshoots were pretty common and they invariably starred interracial couples nowadays so it was no big deal but they were helpful in inserting Black men in Emma’s fantasies.

Emma was only allowed to date through a dating app for celebs that recorded the ethnicity of users. Her profile was set to “exclusively dating black men” without her being able to see that, so when she would only get matches with Black rappers and actors she didn’t understand why and thought only Black men liked her now. She first blamed it on the style they forced on her and also connected that with the fact that Black women are statistically the less likely to date outside of their race. As she had been told about the one drop rule, according to which everybody with some African ancestry was in a way Black, she had to admit that, besides being a mixed woman, she also had to identify as a Black woman and that applied to her too now.
She tried hard to gat a date with a Hispanic man but the app didn’t allow her to even see their profiles, so when her sexual needs took over, she began flirting with a Black stud, Tyrone. He was eager to meet her so they quickly decided to have a first date.
Emma was forced to wear a tight black leather jumpsuit on her first date, which she hated. She tried to explain him that her dresses were dictated by commercial reasons and not by her sense of fashion and that much of what people thought about her was wrong but her date had a very clear picture of her. She was a white girl who had changed her ethnicity to Afro-Latina and was now showing up scantly dressed on her first date. The guy thought he had hit the jackpot and aggressively flirted with her until he took her home.

That night something clicked in Emma’s brain. She had been with a Black man and had loved it. Something she would have never considered a few months ago now seemed almost inevitable. What was the big deal anyway? She now had the genes of a mixed woman, so there were no reasons to restrain from it anyway. She found out that Black men seemed to find mixed women exotic and delicate, which she liked.
The agent found Emma checking out her butt in yet another tight leather dress and couldn’t help but smiling. The conditioning was working. She was learning to embrace her new ethnic traits.
“Ehm, I was just checking how tight this dress was, it’s so uncomfortable!”
“Sure… So, how was your first date?”
“Ehm, great, Tyrone is such a great guy and…”
“Did you two have sex?”
“Ehm, yeah we did!”
“Wow, congrats girl, that went fast!”

Emma began seeing Tyrone on a regular basis. The sex was always amazing and she caught herself thinking less and less about men of other races. Also, by being around him she began to absorb his gestures and way of moving, adopting even more the characteristics of a person of colour.
The relationship with Tyrone didn’t last forever, and Emma soon began dating other men. This time she was left free to choose men from all backgrounds but she had to admit herself she had developed a clear preference for Black men.
She had found herself struggle with her new identity and envied the confidence Black men had in their own, it gave her a sense of security. They, on their side, saw her as a light-skinned, exotic mix and liked how shapely her body was.
Within a few months Emma had been turned from a conservative white girl who only dated white men to a mixed-race woman with a preference for Black men. She was now a true globalist and was publicly promoting how the diversity shot had enriched her life and made her feel part of something bigger than the dynamics internal to her own race but a true member of a multicultural society.

Emma got addicted to the feeling of tight leather pressed against her skin and adopted that as her standard outfit. She preferred jumpsuits with a zipper that made it easy to undress, or even better, to be undressed by men. She embraced her oversexualized appearance and learned to flirt as aggressively as she had experienced. By this point, everybody saw her as a sassy mixed girl who seemed to have embraced her Black side more than the others.
Her mum was horrified to see what had happened to her pretty daughter. “Hey mum, here’s mah man!” And introduced to her her new steady boyfriend, a black stud named Jayden.
Her mum took her aside for a minute and asked her: ”What’s happened to my sweet Emma? First you became all brown and now you dress like a harlot and introduce to me your new boyfriends all the time. And Jesus, they are all Black!”
“Mum, don’t be a bigot again, do you want to embarrass me in front of Jayden! I’m confident about my body and I love this dress because it brings out my best features!”
“Your fake rear and chest? Emma, your best features were your blonde hair and blue eyes! Now that you lost them with this diversity thing you should at least dress modestly, find a decent guy… ”
“Whatever, get lost mum!”

Meeting her family and seeing her old pictures in their house made her doubt herself a little. Despite her confident facade, she sometimes missed her old body and life. However, the day after she found out she got pregnant and the father was her partner Jayden. A quick test showed that her baby, who turned out to be a girl, had 65% of African DNA, as expected given that her father was fully Black. Emma realised she was going to be a role model for her Black daughter and didn’t want to project any insecurities on her, so she decided to adopt an aesthetic heavily inspired by Black women, curling up her hair and highlighting her curvy body as much as possible. “If Imma be a Black mama Imma look da part!” ‘ she told everybody.
She told in her interviews that she had fully embraced her predominant Black side and that she was going to identify as a Black woman from now on, just as her partner wanted her to do.
There was not much left of the old Emma, she adopted the name Kayla, more fitting to her new persona. Kayla was going to make an excellent mother, her boyfriend Jayden assured her.

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Thee Stallion

Kelly was very excited when she received the notification that she was chosen as the winner for a program sponsored by a cosmetic surgery company.
She would be offered a free treatment combining genetic engineering with traditional cosmetic surgery to enhance her looks and keep her youthful.
The whole process would be covered in real time with a reality show named “Glow up!”.
Her boyfriend Jake was equally excited; as much as he liked Kelly, he also found her kind of dull, and hoped for a glow up that would give her more rizz.
She decided to go for minor alterations, like lighter hair – she had always been envious of blondes and was thrilled by the idea of becoming a natural blonde – slightly larger breasts – mostly to make Jake happy, and she only conceded a minor enlargement from A-cups to B-cups, so that it would look natural on her – smoother skin, a faster metabolism allowing her to eat more while remaining thin, combined with minor cosmetic surgical touch-ups like fuller lips.

Everything went smooth, or so she thought until, right after she was given the shot, a young lab assistant frantically told something to the doctor who had administered her the shot. After a while, the doctor approached her with a serious face, and told her that a mistake had been made and she was given the shot for somebody else.
“No, this can’t be! Surely, this can be reversed?”
“Unfortunately not, we have no idea who was it meant for, and we can’t do anything until it has come to a full effect. We’re terribly sorry”
“No idea… So I could change in any possible way” – she asked, frightened she would suddenly turn into a muscular guy.
“Well, we only know the shot came from a batch meant for a female celebrity, many of them use our services these days…”.
Slightly reassured, Kelly realised this wasn’t too bad. Furthermore, she was told that to avoid any potential damage of image for the company, she would be given an extra million dollars as cash prize at the end of her change if she didn’t make this accident public. She would have to carry on her normal life, pretending whatever change happened to her was exactly what she wanted. The only other option was suing the company, which would prove a risky move.

After consulting with her boyfriend, she decided to accept the offer. After all, it was a lot of money and she would probably just end up with slightly larger breasts than expected, much to her boyfriend’s joy. Soon however, it became obvious that there were some unexpected changes. Her skin began to darken at an alarming rate, her body first, then slowly spreading to her face. Not only that, but her metabolism also changed. She quickly gained fat, and it all went in the “right” places, as her boyfriend noticed, turning her a-cups to giant orbs she was struggling to hide and giving her generous buttocks she could barely squeeze in the most revealing shirts she had. Her thighs also gained fat until her thigh gap disappeared. Her nails also groomed at an accelerated pace, to the point that she always ended up having ridiculously longe nails unless she trimmed them everyday.
“This is bad! Who the fuck am I turning into?” – she asked the producers, angrily. “We’re not sure yet but early analyses on your DNA show you’re gaining an African heritage”. Kelly felt like fainting. She didn’t see that coming. “No fucking way, I’m… going to be Black?”. “Yes.” That was a much bigger change than expected.
Her boyfriend Jake, on the other hand, was quite pleased by her transformation “I have no idea who you’re turning into but you’re definitely turning me on!” – he joked once.
“Hey, how could you joke about this?” – she replied, mad at him.
“Come on babe, I was just easing the tension! You know I will always love you, no matter what!”

People would initially compliment her on her “great tan,” but as it continued to deepen over several weeks, they would “helpfully” suggest she avoid the nonexistent tanning salon and workout sessions, to which the poor girl had no answer.
As her body blossomed into that of a busty Black girl, people were increasingly often mistaking her for a mixed or Black lady, her brown skin and curvy figure giving away her newly acquired heritage.
“Hey, sistah, looking good!” – a black guy living in the same block once catcalled her, while she was opening the door to her flat – “OMG, Kelly! Sorry, I thought… Wow, you have… changed!” he added, recognising the white girl’s face staring at him with disdain. “I… I’ve been working out, that’s all.” – she lied. “Nice tan, too” – the man added. “Yeah, thanks to my tanning sessions!”
That was her usual excuse. She couldn’t tell people what was going on with her, so she began avoiding people altogether.
Her skintone got progressively darker, until she no longer looked mixed, but fully Black, like a Black version of herself.

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END OF PART 1

Copycat effect

Taylor Swift’s transformation gained widespread attention and acceptance, it began to legitimise the concept of transracial, particularly among the affluent individuals who could afford the expensive cosmetic surgeries involved in the process. One celebrity who eagerly embraced this trend was Ariana Grande. Prior to her decision, Ariana had faced criticism for cultural appropriation, specifically for incorporating elements of Hispanic and Black cultures into her music and public persona.
In response to these accusations, Ariana publicly clarified her stance, acknowledging that while she had drawn inspiration from Latin and African-American influences, she did not identify as Latina. Instead, she proudly stated her Italian heritage. However, given the evolving landscape and the increasing demand for diverse representation, Ariana’s team saw an opportunity to enhance her appearance and align it more closely with the Hispanic aesthetic, thus enabling her to better connect with her fan base and improve her marketability.
Ariana’s team recognized that minor cosmetic procedures could potentially help her achieve the desired visual transformation, as she already had a dark complexion and ethnically ambiguous features. With careful consideration and planning, Ariana Grande’s team embarked on this journey, hoping to strike a balance between cultural appreciation and representation.

With her decision firmly in place, Ariana Grande, embarked on her transformation journey.
The first step involved enhancing her facial features to embody a more exotic and Latin appearance. Her once thin lips were augmented to achieve a fuller, more voluptuous look, while her eyes were subtly altered to give a hint of almond shape, suggesting a hint of Amerindian ancestry. Additionally, her skin tone was darkened by a few shades, lending a sun-kissed glow that aligned more closely with the Latina aesthetic.
All in all, she looked like a spicier version of plain, old Ariana Grande. If the public had accepted Taylor Swift’s dramatic transformation, this was going to be welcomed by the public opinion, she thought. If anything, Ariana was concerned that the changes were not dramatic enough to attract the attention of the media she was so desperately seeking.
To make her ethnic change even more obvious, she took her husband’s surname and became Ariana Gomez.

But the transformation didn’t stop there. To further solidify her connection with the Latin community, Ariana Gomez was encouraged to gain some weight, embracing a curvier body type that resonated with many Latinas. This decision aimed to foster identification and relatability among her fans, as well as cater to the evolving beauty standards within the entertainment industry. Ariana had always been proud of her lithe physique but she understood that this had to change if she really wanted to embrace her new Hispanic identity and to project healthier beauty standards when it came to body types. The process took some time, but she finally managed to gain a sizeable amount of weight, developing fuller curves in the process.
Throughout the process, Ariana faced both external and internal challenges. The public’s reaction was mixed, with some applauding her efforts, while others still accused her of exploiting cultures for personal gain. Despite the initial criticism, Ariana’s momentum continued to build, and soon mainstream media began celebrating her change, which was mirroring America’s shifting demographics and she soon became an inspiration, a role model for young Latinos and Latinas who yearned for representation and diversity in the entertainment industry. Some fringe media outlets still debated the authenticity of her transformation and questioned her motives, but they were quickly silenced by the majority of mass media.

Emma Watson emerged as the next prominent figure to join the trend. In the midst of a shifting British society, where multiculturalism was gaining prominence, the longstanding dominance of White British actors and actresses became increasingly challenging to justify. While a few minor characters in the Harry Potter franchise had been recast to reflect greater diversity, it was clear that more significant changes were necessary. Recognizing the need for representation and a personal desire for change, Emma Watson, alongside her agent, made the courageous decision to abandon her old image and embark on a transformative journey. With the British Indian community growing as a prominent minority in the country, Emma saw an opportunity to align herself with this specific cultural identity. It felt like a natural choice, in a country where even the Prime Minister was of Indian heritage.
She wholeheartedly immersed herself in the Indian culture, learning about its rich heritage, traditions, and experiences. When she felt ready, she underwent a series of genetically-engineered techniques that, by activating or suppressing certain genes, altered some of her physical traits, like skin color, eye shape and hair color. Rather than opting for superficial cosmetic surgeries, Emma decided to explore a more profound approach to her transformation. This innovative method allowed for a deeper alteration of her appearance, resonating with the significance and depth of her personal journey.

With each carefully orchestrated genetic adjustment, Emma witnessed the dramatic changes unfolding. Her once striking hazel eyes, once a distinctive trademark, gradually transformed into a captivating dark brown, their depths reminiscent of ebony. Her light brown tresses took a lustrous jet black shade, starting from her roots. Recognizing the need for aesthetic consistency, it was decided to dye Emma’s hair completely black, ensuring a seamless and harmonious visual representation of her transformation.
As she immersed herself in the Indian culture, she recognized the importance of authenticity beyond physical appearances. In her quest to fully embody her new persona, Emma made the decision to adopt a slight Indian accent, losing her trademark perfect British pronunciation.
Emma dedicated herself to mastering the nuances of the Indian accent, delving into its rhythm, intonations, and cadence. She worked closely with dialect coaches and language experts, immersing herself in the linguistic intricacies of the diverse Indian cultures. Her commitment to authenticity extended beyond the surface level, aiming to reflect a genuine understanding and respect for the culture she now embraced.

Recognizing the importance of challenging harmful beauty standards, she made the bold decision to tune her skin to a rich and warm mocha hue. This deliberate choice aimed to increase acceptance and celebrate the beauty of darker-skinned women, particularly considering that in their country of origin the practice of skin bleaching still persisted.
In addition to her evolving complexion, Emma underwent further physical alterations that aimed to authentically reflect her British Indian identity. Her lips became fuller, her nose broader, and her eyes took on an enchanting oriental shape. These adjustments, while significant, still maintained a faint resemblance to the Emma Watson of the past. However, she now exuded an undeniable aura of being British Indian—her appearance and manner of speaking converged harmoniously.
As Emma Watson underwent her transformative journey, she realized that a new name would further solidify her connection to her new persona. After careful consideration, she decided to adopt the name Eesha Walia, to keep her old initials.
Eesha, now fully embodying her new name, had blossomed into a radiant symbol of transraciality, now a widely accepted phenomenon only criticised by the right-wing fringes of society.

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Taylor made

Taylor Swift’s heart pounded in her chest as she stepped off the stage, the final notes fading into the night. The energy of the crowd still lingered in the air, but a sense of unease weighted on her spirit. Lately, her once illustrious star seemed to wane, its brilliance dimmed by the emergence of new talents that captured the world’s attention.
Taylor Swift’s agent, Catherine, called her into a meeting right after the concert, with an air of gravity that made Taylor’s heart race. Catherine was known for her strategic thinking, always seeking the next big move to keep Taylor on top.”Taylor,” she began, “we need to face the truth. Our ticket sales have been declining for a while now, and it’s becoming increasingly challenging to maintain your position in this ever-evolving industry. We’ve been brainstorming ways to recapture the public’s attention, to reignite the spark that once set you apart. And we believe it’s time for a radical change” she said, leaning forward with a knowing smile, “A complete physical transformation.” Taylor’s eyes widened. What did Catherine mean? Did she envision a transformation along the lines of Miley Cyrus’s evolution? Or something else? There was something in Catherine’s gaze that hinted at the enormity of what lay ahead. Catherine showed her a few photoshopped pictures of Taylor to show her what they had in mind. They had envisioned a bold transformation—dark hair cascading in ebony waves, brown eyes, and bronze skin. It was a vision that both intrigued and unnerved Taylor, a leap into the unknown that would redefine her very image. “Imagine the sensation it would make, Taylor Swift going from a Blonde beauty to a hot ethnic bombshell!” – Catherine added

Taylor Swift stood before the mirror, her reflection mirroring the turmoil within her. The fame she had garnered over the years had brought her immense success, but now, a new challenge lay before her.
As the mirror reflected Taylor’s puzzled expression, she contemplated the weight of her decision. The world knew her as the girl-next-door with golden locks, a storybook princess who poured her heart into melodies. Wasn’t her signature blonde hair and blue eyes a part of her identity? Now, Catherine’s proposition called for a different Taylor, one that would take her fans by surprise and leave an indelible mark on the music industry. She thought of her loyal fans, those who had sticked with her through the highs and lows of her career. Would they accept this new Taylor, or would she lose them in the process? The fear of alienating those who had come to love her as she was teared her heart. Yet, deep within her soul, Taylor felt a deep curiosity. The idea of reinventing herself, of stepping into a new realm, held an intoxicating allure. It was a chance to break free from the expectations and stereotypes that had accompanied her rise to stardom. She could shed her old skin and emerge anew, a phoenix rising from the ashes. Taking a deep breath, Taylor glanced at the mirror once more, her reflection urging her to embrace the unknown. The decision weighed heavy on her, but she knew deep down that life was a series of metamorphoses, and this was hers to undergo. Yes—she told herself—this was the right decision to make.

Taylor Swift stood in front of the full-length mirror, her eyes widening as she took in her transformed reflection. Her signature golden locks had given way to short, chestnut brown hair that gracefully framed her face. The reflection staring back at her showcased a pair of deep, mesmerizing brown eyes—a result of a groundbreaking technology that darkened her iris without the need for traditional contacts, giving her brown eyes a very natural look. The price to pay was that her natural blue eyes were now forever gone. Completing the metamorphosis was a moderate tan that graced her complexion, lending a subtle sun-kissed glow. She ran her fingers through her newly brunette locks. As she traced the outline of her darkened eyes, a surge of anticipation coursed through her veins. This was just the beginning—a mere glimpse of the possibilities that awaited her.
As news of Taylor Swift’s transformation began to spread, a wave of curiosity and anticipation rippled through the general public. As Taylor stepped into the spotlight with her darkened locks, mesmerizing eyes, and sun-kissed skin, the reactions varied across the spectrum. Some embraced the changes wholeheartedly, while other fans clung to the image of the “old Taylor,” the one they had grown to love over the years. They voiced their nostalgia, expressing reservations about the departure from her signature blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair complexion. To them, the metamorphosis seemed like a betrayal of the familiar, a departure from the essence that had initially drawn them in.

Overall, Taylor successfully managed to regain a central spot in the competitive music industry and briefly regained the no. 1 spot in the charts with her latest album. It might have played a part the fact that in the cover picture and in the videoclip she was sporting her sensual new look.
After a few weeks, when the hype had faded and the general public had gotten used to the new looks, it was time for the following step.
Her journey of transformation had taken yet another captivating turn. The rich chestnut brown hair she had just embraced gave way to a lustrous, jet black mane that touched her shoulders like a waterfall of darkness. It framed her face, accentuating her exotic features. Her moderate tan had deepened into a bronzed radiance, infusing her complexion with a sun-kissed vibrancy that spoke of distant shores and untamed adventures. The sensual brown hue of her eyes was highlighted by her darker complexion. They held a depth and intensity that her old blue eyes could never achieve.
The transformation had unveiled a Taylor Swift unlike anything the world had seen before—a vision of exoticism and allure that radiated from her every pore.

As the public caught wind of Taylor’s latest transformation, the response was electrifying. Some hailed the metamorphosis as a bold embrace of her newfound exoticism that ignited their imagination and stirred a deep fascination. Others, however, voiced their surprise and disappointment. Taylor looked like yet another Kardashian now, nothing like her authentic self. Moreover, having previously been something of an Alt-Right icon with her iconic blond hair and blue eyes, a part of her fanbase was disoriented by this dramatic change in looks that seemed to acknowledge that the beauty standards for women was now black hair, brown eyes and dark skin. Not surprisingly, researches showed that she had gained popularity among Latino and Black people, while her popularity faded among whites, once the core of her fanbase. Debates ignited and opinions clashed as the world attempted to navigate the uncharted waters of her evolution. Yet, amidst the divided responses, a common thread emerged—an acknowledgement of Taylor’s fearless exploration and her ability to continually push boundaries.
The newfound popularity, however, faded away with time, and soon people had gotten used to Taylor’s new look. Addicted to the feeling of being at the centre of attention, Taylor agreed to yet another transformation, even more drastic than the previous ones.

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END OF PART 1

The veiled beauty

Victoria, a young American woman, was finally done with her office job for the day, so she left the bounding and waited for her boyfriend Jacob, who always picked her up. Fuel was so expensive recently that they had decided to sell the other car and make it work with a single car for the two of them. Jacob arrived, a few minutes later than usual, and greeted Victoria with a kiss, explaining that he had to park a little far away because he couldn’t find a single empty spot. He had also a very long and tiring day at work. As a patrol officer, he was exposed to violence and crime on a daily basis and a particularly busy day dealing with illegal migrants further increased his stress levels.
It was no wonder that when he noticed that his car was stuck behind a black Bentley, his mood only got worse. He started swearing and asked around who was the owner. A tall Arab man who had just arrived replied kindly but firmly that his driver had temporarily parked the car there to drop him for a business meeting but he would leave right away. Jacob muttered a racial slur directed at the man and pushed him away, heading for his car.
“Weren’t you a bit too mean with that man, earlier” – Victoria asked him, once in the car.
“Nah, these sand n deserve it. I wonder how did he get so rich, by the way.”

Jacob had wronged a powerful and proud man, Ahmad, whose wrath knew no bounds. Consumed by the burning desire for revenge, Ahmad meticulously noted the man’s license plate and plotted a sinister plan to teach him the hard-earned lessons of respect. Patiently waiting for the opportune moment to strike, he studied every aspect of Jacob’s life, until, on a fateful day, Ahmad’s henchmen executed his meticulously devised scheme. They stealthily infiltrated Jacob and Victoria’s apartment, moving with the precision of trained assassins, their faces concealed by masks. With chilling precision, one of the thugs unleashed a dart from a concealed tranquilizer gun, striking Jacob’s frame. The potent drug coursed through his veins, rendering him helpless and immobilised on the floor. His body betrayed him, as he couldn’t do anything to stop them form methodically tying Victoria. A tight blindfold obscured her vision, plunging her into a world of darkness, while a merciless gag muffled her cries for help. With ruthless efficiency, they scooped her up and whisked her away. Hours later, the tranquilliser’s grip on Jacob loosened, allowing him to regain control over his body. With every ounce of determination he could muster, he forced himself upright and dialled the emergency line, his voice wavering with desperation. Unbeknownst to Jacob, Victoria’s fate had taken a treacherous detour, far from the familiar grounds of American soil. Her captors, acting on Ahmad’s nefarious orders, had whisked her away to a secluded Arab Emirate, where Ahmad was a rather powerful figure.

Victoria woke up in an unknown basement. The first thing she noticed was the unfamiliar feeling of wearing a hijab. As her fingers instinctively reached up to brush against the foreign fabric that now graced her head, she searched the room, looking for clues. Eventually, someone noticed she was awake and entered her room.
“You must be confused now, my dear.” – the Arab man Jacob had previously cursed told her. She was so afraid of him she couldn’t even say a single word.
“I wanted to teach your man a lesson he will never forget. What better way than turning his girlfriend in what he hates the most?”
“I… I don’t know what you mean, but I’ll do whatever you want, please don’t hurt me!” – she said, kneeling in front of him.
“Of course you will do! First of all, we need to make you more knowledgeable and modest. It is expected that you wear a hijab when you are with strangers, as it is a symbol of modesty and adherence to Islamic principles. You will also learn to lower their gaze and avoid prolonged or inappropriate staring to maintain modesty and prevent temptation or immodest thoughts. When you will be ready, you will pronounce your shahada and you’ll become a muslimah.”
Victoria was so scared she followed the man’s instructions without ever showing any sign of rebellion.

During her sleep, Victoria was subject to unconscious imprinting of a submissive personality. Unbeknownst to her, a subtle imprinting took hold, weaving its influence through her thoughts and beliefs. Slowly but surely, her psyche was shaped into a state of profound submission towards men. This transformation manifested in her actions, causing her to instinctively lower her gaze when in the presence of a man. It became an automatic response, a manifestation of the deep-seated obedience ingrained within her.
In the meantime, she frequently visited a local mosque, where a scholar introduced her to the Quran. In the terrible situation in which she was, this was the only moment of peace she had, so she felt naturally very open to the teachings she was receiving. At the same time, she was forced to undergo an intense training in Arabic. Ahmad used a special drug which made her brain more malleable and receptive to learn the language. Once the medicine was in her system, Ahmad’s voice seemed to penetrate her brain. After a while, it seemed that Arabic words were deeply planted into her memory, while English words seemed to be slipping away. What Victoria didn’t know was that the medicine and the process weren’t just meant to teach her Arabic, but were also affecting the parts of her brain that had learned English in her childhood.
When she was proficient enough to study the Quran in Arabic, she renounced her Christian faith and pronounced the shahada, then becoming a Muslim.
“This is great, I can tell that you have changed your heart about Islam. This, however, is not enough.”

One morning, as Victoria’s consciousness emerged from the depths of her dreams, her eyes immediately noticed that something was off. As her vision adjusted to the ambient light, a startling revelation gripped her heart. Strands of lustrous brown hair cascaded around her face, a stark contrast from the familiar blonde hue that had characterised her reflection in the mirror countless times before. Her once vibrant golden locks were gone, replaced by a dark brown mane.
Shaken by the unexpected transformation, Victoria’s gaze shifted downward, focusing on her arms. What she saw sent shockwaves through her soul, stealing the breath from her lungs. Her skin, once marked by a delicate paleness, now had a mesmerising bronzed tone, an exotic and sun-kissed hue that no white woman could ever reach, even after a long vacation in the sun. Was this a mere illusion, a trick of the lightning or had something irremediable happened to her? As she started to stand up, heading to the bathroom, she noticed how her whole body felt different. She felt heavier in some areas. She took off her night clothes and saw how her once small breasts had inexplicably expanded to an much larger size! She put on the first dress she found, afraid to be seen by chance by Ahmad in her underwear, and rushed to the bathroom.

“What the…” – as Victoria’s bewildered voice trailed off, her gaze fixated upon the mirror, her eyes widening in disbelief. A beautiful girl of Arabian descent with a hourglass figure was staring back at her, with no resemblance to her former self.
In place of her familiar blonde tresses and piercing blue eyes, cascades of black, thick strands framed a face that now emanated an undeniable Arabian allure. Deep, dark brown doe eyes, adorned with a hint of almond shape, held a depth of expression that only Middle Eastern women have. The very essence of her facial features had been irrevocably altered. High cheekbones and well-defined eyebrows, combined with a slightly altered nose shape added an extra hint of Arabian flair, harmonising with the fullness of her lips. Her once fair skin was indeed gone, replaced by a rich and warm hue, matching her darker complexion.
Her body shape had also been altered: the A-cup breasts that once adorned her chest had given way to voluptuous, silicone-enhanced D-cups, her buttocks had been filled with implants and her waist looked unnaturally thin, courtesy of surgical intervention. She looked like an Arab curvy model.
A tempest of emotions consumed her fragile soul. Victoria fought desperately to make sense of the radical transformation that had stripped her of her former self.

Victoria was shocked at the extent of her transformation and barely spoke or ate for the whole day. She put on a more covering blue dress and stared for hours at her surgically enhanced face, hiding it partially with her tanned hands when she felt too overwhelmed. The dark brown eyes staring back at her were completely alien to her. She felt like her whole identity had been replaced by a stranger’s, as if she inhabited someone else’s body. Her face, her skin, her body were gone. Even her ethnicity had been altered, perhaps permanently.
She found a letter in her room when she came back to it. In chilling detail, the letter unveiled all the steps that made her physical transformation possible. Specifically tailored nanobots, able to target precise interventions at cellular level, had been released in her bloodstream, programmed to permanently increase the melanin production in her skin cells and hair follicles. She gulped. This was no ordinary tan or hair dye. Her brown skin was there to stay, and the strands of her hair, once a cascading cascade of golden locks, were now condemned to grow eternally silky and jet-black. Plastic surgery took care of the rest, including her realistic-looking silicone breasts, the butt job, a small nose job and the lip fillers. They even coated her blue eyes in dark brown pigments to make her look more genuinely middle Eastern. “As I promised you – the letter continued – I have turned you into the very thing Jacob hated the most. An Arab, and a muslim.”

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COMING IN JUNE

Diversity hire

Natalie was a spoiled white American girl whose ancestors had been inhabiting the American continent for multiple generations, being among the early settlers who colonised New England in the ‘700s. She was proud of being of purely English and Scottish heritage and didn’t hide her contempt towards immigrants, non-white people and generally anyone who was different from her and her social circles. She was also a practicing Methodist and was very judgmental against people of different creeds.
Her father was a very influent businessman with many connections in the state senate so she never had any problems landing any job she wanted. Things, however, were slowly changing. Lately, most companies had pushed for more diversity in the working place so oftentimes being a WASP girl wasn’t an advantage but actually more of a burden.
Once, she had set her eyes on the position of spokesperson of a prestigious fashion brand, it was her dream job, as it would allow her to further improve her social position and finally be recognised as peer with movie celebrities.

However, the company management was pretty clear about hiring a woman of colour. It would do wonders for the public image of the business and it would help expand its client base to a more diverse demographics.
Natalie was furious. How dare they do that to her? She tried everything, asking her father to remove the stupid rule but with no avail. Times were truly changing.
Eventually, Natalie opened up about this with her best friend, Steffy. She mentioned a new device, able to temporarily change people’s ethnicity.
“You can’t be serious!”
“Absolutely! It basically makes you look like an exotic cousin. You’s still look like yourself, just with a different ethnic background!”
“That’s sick! Why would people want to do that to themselves?”
“Well, lots of different reasons, you know…”
Natalie, who had always been secretly curious about other ethnicities and jealous of their sexy ethnic flavour, decided to give it a try, begging her friend Steffy to keep her secret.
Her friend was eager to help her and promised she would keep silent. Steffy had always been secretly envious of Natalie’s beauty and found the perspective of changing her appearance very exciting.
Natalie rented the device, which was extremely expensive, and called Steffy back to help her operate it.

Natalie sat down and Steffy attached the electrodes and needles to her friend.
“We can try and see how you’d look like with different ethnicities…”
Let’s begin with Asian!
“Haha, you make such a cute Chinese girl!”
“Jesus! This is freaking me out! My skin looks so weird!”
“How about a hot chica Latina?”
“Don’t you dare!”
“Hahaha I can’t believe it’s you!”
“I… don’t even want to see myself. Oh, my arms are brown, gosh! And my face feels so weird! My nose, my lips! That’s freaking me out!”
“Can I try to make you Black for a minute?” – asked Steffy, who was having the time of her life turning her hot blonde friend into all sorts of ethnicity.
“I would cut you into pieces!” – said the Hispanic-looking girl.
“Ok, ok, forget about it!”
“I’m sorry, it’s too much to take, I can’t do this…”
“Wait, you don’t have to be that exotic, how about mixed? Maybe with native American? Or maybe Arab or Jewish?”
“Jewish? Yes! I… could give it a try!”
“Hmm I didn’t expect so much enthusiasm!” – said Steffy with a smirk.
“No” – blushed Natalie, who had always admired the beauty and charm of Jewish women. They somehow managed to retain their ethnic flavour despite becoming well-integrated and successful members of the American society.

“I… just think I could enjoy being Jewish for a while”
“Hmm, who would have told you had such specific desires?”
Natalie continued to blush.
Steffy carefully selected a genetic profile that would match Natalie’s preferences. She went for a Sephardi Jewish ethnicity, which would imply a more exotic genetic makeup compared to Ashkenazi Jewish, who has intermarried with white Europeans for generations and who would arguably not qualify as people of color. A mix of Jewish, Spanish and North African genes replaced the girl’s Anglo-saxon ones. She made sure to give Natalie a very exotic appearance, to help her get her dream job but also for the sheer pleasure of turning her blonde, frigid girl into an exotic Jewish girl.
Once selected the genetic profile, Steffie initiated the transformation and admired the result. She handed Natalie a top crop and some shorts to cover herself and let her judge for herself. Natalie was positively impressed. She looked like a more determined, smarter and hotter version of herself. Her brown skin was clearly not the result of tanning but of her new heritage, her dark hair and eyes together with her elongated face shape gave her a completely different, fascinating vibe. She liked her new appearance more than she was willing to admit and could hardly hide her satisfaction. She had always been the pretty blonde, now she was eager to see how it felt to be the sultry, hot and exotic brunette.

“Yeah, I… guess this could work!”
“Great! I love your new you! How about a new name now? How about Naomi, or Miriam? Or Esther? ”
“Hmm Esther, yeah, I like the sound of it!”
“Ok then! We’ll take some pictures of you and then contact that friend of your dad who fabricates fake IDs! This is so exciting, I love it!”
“I know you do! You’re the best, Steffy, haha!”

Natalie decided to present herself as Esther Benaim, a more fitting and exotic name for her new self. She came up with a full backstory about her family history where she would still have a very wealthy background.
She dressed in a professional suit and headed to the headquarters of the company for the job interview.
The interview seemed to go very well, thanks to her confidence and experience in the field. Sure, her new heritage would make her the top candidate for the job, she thought.
A few days later she got a feedback from the company. To her surprise, Esther’s application was rejected. Furious, she demanded to talk to the HR department of the company.

When she met with the employee in charge of the hiring process, she was shown that being Jewish did not qualify her as a person of colour, therefore she encountered the same issue she used to have as a WASP woman.
“I’m sorry Esther, our idea is to favour disadvantaged minorities. As a wealthy Jewish woman, you don’t qualify for that.”
“That’s crazy! I did all of this and now you…”
“What do you mean?” – asked the confused HR employee.
“Ehm, it doesn’t matter anymore” – said Esther, who almost admitted her dirty trick to get the position.
Esther was shocked her plan had failed but there wasn’t much she could do. She quickly headed back and called her friend Steffy to update her.
She entered the coffee where she was supposed to meet with her friend and noticed a blonde woman was the only client in that moment. She approached her and asked “Excuse me, have you seen my friend S…”

To her surprise, the blonde lady turned around and revealed Natalie’s face.
“Oh my God Steffy? Is that you?”
“Surprised, huh? Well, the device had your body features backed up so I thought I could give it a try and transfer them on myself!”
“I… wasn’t expecting that! That’s sick, you really look like me!”
“I do! And as I know you very well, I managed to fool everybody and convince them I am actually Natalie! I thought I should cover for you while you get your dream job!”
“Ahem, sure, that’s nice of you, otherwise people would have worried for me but that’s not necessary anymore, those idiots didn’t hire me” – and went on to describe her what had happened at the company.
Her friend listened to her with a weird expression on her pretty face.
“Hmm, that’s a bummer! See, renting the machine was very expensive so I terminated the contract expecting that we wouldn’t have needed it for a few months!”
“What? So are we stuck like this now?”
“We can rent another device but it’s in high demand right now right now, the waiting time is about six months!”
“What? You can’t be serious!”
“Don’t worry Esther, I’ll help you around, I’ll buy you clothes and give you money, we’ll be friends as always, only this time I’ll be the blonde and you the brunette!” – added Steffy, who had always envied her friend’s blonde mane. Well, that was hers now.

“But.. I don’t want to be stuck like this for months, I…”
“Lower your voice, Esther!” – replied the blonde in a different tone.
“Stop calling me like that, you know I’m Natalie!”
“Sure, but nobody else does! Remember when you asked me not to tell anybody else? I could in any moment pretend I didn’t know you and you would be effectively locked away from your true identity. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Steffie, I… I can’t believe you are doing that to me!”
“Call me Natalie from now on, please!”
“Yes, Natalie!”
“Good, then let’s have a deal, do as I tell you and you’ll have your body back in six months. I’ll provide you with a constant flow of cash to support your lifestyle and you’ll live out your fantasy.”
“My fantasy?”
“You’ll be a vapid Jewish American princess who only cares about her appearance and getting laid with wealthy men. No more worries about your career, let me take care of that! I’ve already chosen for you a penthouse in Manhattan where to live. You’ll enter the finest social circles of the Jewish community in New York and find your new boyfriend there.”
“I…” – the former blonde couldn’t find the words. It was indeed a fantasy of hers but living out for real was scary. And for so long! Living as a Jewish Princess for six months was going to mess up with her brain in a massive way!

Following her friend’s advice, Esther began working on her posture and speech patterns so match the personality of a spoiled brat who had never worked a day in her life and who was on her way from being daddy’s girl to a trophy wife for a wealthy man.
She also began accustomed to show her body more and to ooze sexuality.
As soon as the joined the first parties, everybody saw her as the embodiment of a Jewish American princess, making all girls mad at her for bringing back old-fashioned stereotypes about women and making all men fall for her.
Soon enough, she also fell for one of those wealthy Jewish American men, Aaron, further cementing her new persona. Eventually, it became second nature to her, and even when she met Steffy, now presenting as Natalie, she would keep the same vapid speech patterns and refer to herself as Esther.
One day, when she was supposed to reveal the truth to her new boyfriend, Esther received a surprise visit by Steffi disguised as Natalie.
“What a surprise… Natalie!”
“I was eager to meet your new boyfriend, Aaron! Oh, you’re a lucky man! My friend Esther is a bit of an airhead but she’s really sweet!”
“Haha Nathy my dear, you’re so good with words!”
When Aaron left for a minute, the brunette asked the blonde if there were any news about the device as the six months had already passed. The blonde, by now fully into her Natalie persona, dismissed her concerns with a smile and told her “Let’s forget about that silly thing my dear! I bought you something better! You are clearly enjoying your new life a not and you would never break your boyfriend’s heart! I cancelled that order and bought you a pink Lambo as an engagement present! Haha, he told me he’s going to propose soon, there he is, I can see him coming back with the engagement ring! You are going to say yes, aren’t you?”

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The queen of rap

I’ve always been an excellent singer, I was the top of my class in music school. I also had the good looks to succeed in the music industry, but I never had the personality and charisma that could make me stand out. Eventually it became clear that I would never be able to become a successful singer, so I found my niche doing musical impressions of famous singers and spent days listening to every song of a certain singer to be able to mimic their voice tone and accent to perfection. I knew this was my last chance to earn a living with my voice and I wasn’t going to waste it. I was regularly invited at clubs, parties, any sort of events to sing famous songs by Ariana Grande, Taylor Swift or Beyonce. Sometimes the resemblance of my voice was just passing, other times it was so striking people in the audience thought they were listening to the original singer herself. For some blessing or curse my vocal cords seemed to be able to adjust particularly well to the voice of a particular singer, Nicki Minaj. I didn’t even like her songs that much and rapping wasn’t my favourite but my imitations of her were always a phenomenal success. As my unusual career was taking off, I got more and more calls and decided to focus on what seemed to be my best chance to fame: imitating Nicki. I eventually dropped all the other imitations and began learning by heart every single one of her songs, mimicking her intonation and accent.
This seemed to be paying off as I was getting bigger and bigger gigs, until one day I was contacted by Nicki’s entourage.

I initially freaked out, fearing some copyright issue. I told my agent (I could finally afford one now) to see what they wanted and he told me they seemed to have an offer for me. Expecting some minor role in an official Nicki Minaj concert, I eagerly accepted, hoping for a breakthrough.
A panel asked me to perform a couple of Nicki’s songs, which I did with the usual fidelity to the original, and they seemed to be very satisfied. Their leader said: “I understand that the offer we are making you is very unusual so please take your time and listen to the full proposal before answering. As you know miss Onika Tanya Maraj, alias Nicki Minaj has been prioritising her family these days so she can devote very little time to her fans. We are very impressed with your skills and we have to admit that our sound engineers have detected very few detectable differences between your voice and Nicki Minaj’s, so we are asking you to replace her during her concerts. You would earn five million dollars a year.”
I felt dizzy hearing that. “Wow… I’m a bit taken aback, I’m very humbled by such an offer! So, are we talking lip sync?”
“We’re talking about more than that. You would undergo surgery to look like a twin sister of Nicki Minaj. At that point you would replace her on stage and sing at her place, as well as impersonate her in public events, meet with her fans, do photoshoots, you name it. With the proper training you could even be able to impersonate her in any social situation.”

“What? You can’t be serious? How would the public react to this?”
“They would never know. All your appearances would be uncredited and a clause in the contract would prevent you from talking to the press about this.”
“Oh wow, well I guess this makes sense. Still, I look nothing like her! I’m white and my body shape is completely different!”
“We have already assembled a team of some of the leading experts in plastic surgery and we can assure you that it is absolutely possible to turn you into an exact replica of Nicki Minaj.”
“I… I can’e believe that!” – as I said that I instinctively touched my face, afraid they would suddenly start to alter it.
“You already have brown eyes and hair, and with your olive skin, a small increase in the amount of melanin in your system will be enough to match your skin tone to Nicki Minaj’s. As for your body shape, there are plenty of rather common techniques to give you a hourglass figure, like breast implants, Brazilian butt lift, and so on. This is all absolutely well tested and safe. All surgical expenses would be covered of course.”
I was speechless, they were serious about this. I had never even considered lip fillers, let alone a whole set of plastic surgeries like those. I kept asking questions to gain some time to think about it.

“How about my face?”
“That would also be feasible with a nose job, lip fillers and a few other minor touch-ups. We would scan your face and accurately plan every step to replicate Nicki Minaj’s face. As you can understand, the implications of ethnicity-changing plastic surgery could be ethically sketchy, however, so we need to ask you to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”
“Wow, this is a lot to take, I need to think about this, it’s a life-changing transformation.”
“Absolutely… Please, take your time, get back to us when you’ve made up your mind!”
Was I really willing to become a full-time Nicki Minaj impersonator? I could finally fulfil my dream of singing in front of large audiences and be rich and successful but I would lose my own face and in a way my identity. Was that too high a price to pay for success?
I looked at myself in the mirror. As a brown-eyed brunette I had always envied the beauty of blonde, blue-eyed women. Now I was considering going at the opposite side of the color spectrum. Wasn’t that ironic?
Honestly, I told myself, I wasn’t too happy with my life and I knew I could never forgive myself had I missed this chance, so after much consideration I accepted and signed the contract.

I was very nervous about getting plastic surgery, but they reassured me by telling me that they decided to split the procedures in multiple rounds, to give me time to recover from them and to adjust to my changing appearance.
I had a soft start, with rather common plastic surgeries: lip injections and breast implants, so that for the time being I could get away with the changes saying that I had decided to improve my looks, without making it too obvious that I was actually radically changing my looks.
When I woke up from the surgery, I was shocked at how massive my new breasts looked, way too big for my frame. They made me look like a hypersexualized, plastic beauty-style version of myself, with fake-looking orbs. I looked like a pornstar and started regretting my decision, but it was too late to back off, so I tried to make the most of it and dyed my brown hair blonde to go full “Blonde bombshell” mode.
I started borrowing custom-sized tops from Nicki as half of my wardrobe was useless. Unfortunately, all her outfits were very revealing.

A few weeks later, I was told it was time to work on my complexion. I gulped when I heard that. My days as a white woman were coming to an end.
Again, we began with baby steps. I started regular tanning sessions, combined with a drug that increased melanin production in my body. I quickly gained a deep tan I had never achieved before. The same molecule affected my hair color, turning it from brown to jet black, as it showed in my regrowth, and my eyes, which and darkened to a dark brown.
One day, I bumped into a girl from my old music school. She was very pretty and we used to call her “airhead” and “bimbo” because we were young and stupid, and also a bit envious. She suffered a lot form it but she kept going and as she had real talent and eventually became a successful songwriter. I ignored her but she recognised me and, after the initial shock, talked to me.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe it! You went full plastic! Who’s the bimbo now?”
My heart was pounding. I wished I could disappear or at least hide my implants but my dress was designed to expose my cleavage.
“Hehe, Sharon, come on, everybody is getting plastic surgery these days!”
“Haha, how the tables have turned! Well, what can I say, we all know what sells in the showbiz! Some people have talent, some have to make up for it!”
I didn’t know that to say, everything about me suggested exactly that. I quickly excused myself and left, trying to hide some tears.

I felt so ashamed and humiliated after that encounter, I didn’t leave my house for a few days. To make it worse, Sharon posted some pictures of me on social media, so that everybody now thought that I had decided to become a plastic beauty to boost my career. Many of my friends contacted me, wondering why the dedicated artist they knew so well decided to earn fame the easy way. I knew everybody loves the downfall story of a school genius who fails later in life, but it still shocked me how many of them seemed to enjoy my humiliation. Although I felt ashamed by my plastic look and I was afraid of being judged, I had no other choice but to keep living a normal life and performing regularly, after all it was my only source of income before I could work for Nicki once the transformation was complete.
As my reputation was ruined anyway, I decided to step up my game and started performing in revealing outfits inspired to those used by Nicki in her concerts. As weird it was to wear pink wigs, colourful outfits and gigantic heels, I knew I had to get used to this fashion style sooner or later.
I was very self-conscious about flashing my boobs in public but the public seemed to love the changes. I was getting significantly more requests to sing at large events, and the crowds were cheering me like never before. For once in my life, I felt like I had finally fulfilled my dream of becoming a star in the music industry. I hated that people now paid more attention to my cleavage than to my singing skills, just like Sharon and my haters said, but I enjoyed it nevertheless.

As the tanning sessions continued, I kept getting darker and darker, which freaked me out a bit. I contacted the team monitoring my progress but assured me all was going according to plans. After all, my natural complexion was several shades lighter than a Caribbean woman.
The black roots of my hair continued to grow, so I decided to dye all my hair jet black and got matching extensions. Black was the only hair color that would look natural on me from now on, I realized. Even the brown hair that used to be my natural hair color would look like a dye from now on. I checked myself with black hair and I had to admit I made a great raven-haired beauty. My new hair and complexion gave me some sort of middle eastern flavour. I also noticed how my entire body was affected by the change in pigmentation as my pink aureolas and vagina turned dark brown, giving my naked body a strong exotic flavour. That’s when I realised I was truly becoming a different woman. It freaked me out so I avoided looking looking at my naked body when I was showering.
On a positive note, I was getting a lot more attention from men than before, so I decided to have some fun and went on a few dates. At first, I didn’t update the pictures on my dating profile but then when I met in person my dates often didn’t even recognise me. So I updated my profile with more recent pictures but then most men I matched with thought I was a hooker hunting for clients. My life had definitely changed with a body like this.

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END OF PART 1

The good wife

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!

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Finding love

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!”

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India by Raji

DISCLAIMER: not my own content

The original story (text only) by Raji can be found here: https://www.thechangingmirror.com/phpbb/viewtopic.php?f=11&t=1595&p=3300#p3300

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.

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