Alexxx's RC F2F stories

Katherine was an attractive blonde who had recently started dating Tyrone, an athletic African-American medical student who had recently split with his girlfriend of 4 years, Alisha, a fellow African-American medical student. 

Katherine knew the two had a bad breakup so she felt utterly shocked and scared when she found Alisha in the apartment where she and Tyrone had recently started living together.

“Alisha, oh my God I… wasn’t expecting to see you here, how did you get in?” “Oh, I kept a spare key, I used to live here not long ago, you know, before you two got together.” “Listen Alisha, I know it must have been painful but you should just move on, it just didn’t work anymore between you two and… ” 

Alisha didn’t waste any more time “Shut up, you dumb blonde! I still don’t see how did you steal my man by the way! Puah, I can’t understand what did he see in you… However, I need your help to win him back.”

“What? Are you serious? What…”

“Listen to me, bitch!” – Alisha said as she extracted a long knife – “Now you’ll do as I say. I have quite some experience with autopsies from medical school, and I’m not afraid of using this one on you, is that clear?”

Katherine was too paralysed by fear to reply.

“Very good, now lay down here and let me attach the instrumentation to your body, I won’t hurt you, I promise you’ll walk away freely in a few hours!”

Not knowing what else to do, Katherine did as she was told and quickly lost consciousness due to the sedative administrated to her.

About half a day later, the extensive procedure programmed by Alisha had run its course, so she woke up first. However, it was a very different Alisha who stepped out of the bed: gone were her dark skin and hair, replaced by ivory skin and blonde, curly hair.

Alisha took some time to put on a black dress, pour herself some red wine, and enjoy her new reflection in a mirror, then she went to talk to Katherine, who had waken up in the meanwhile. She was still stuck to her bed so she couldn’t see herself but could clearly see the woman who was talking to her. “It’s me, Alisha” – the blonde said with a smile – “I know I look different, but let me explain. You see girl, Tyrone was always very open with me on any subject, including his deepest desires. The reason why it didn’t work anymore among us is that he began being exclusively attracted to white girls at some point. I guess it had to do with being surrounded by you white bitches, I have no idea. Anyway, I wasn’t going to give up on him so easily, so I did my research and got access to an experimental device that can swap physical traits between two people” – at that point Katherine was shaken by the realisation of what Alisha had probably done to her – “Yeah” – Alisha smiled maliciously to her – “You’re a smart girl, you must have understood it by now. You’re black. Oh, there is no turning back, the procedure is too experimental to be carried out twice on the same subject so you’re pretty much stuck like that now. Don’t worry though, you’re still a gorgeous girl, just not the kind Tyrone is into anymore though, hehe.”

Katherine finally regained the ability to talk after the shock “This… This can’t be true!” “Oh, it’s very much true my dear! Let me show you!”

“What the…” Katherine was again speechless at what she saw in the mirror. She couldn’t have doubts anymore, what Alisha told her was actually true. She had somehow switched their ethnicities. 

Katherine’s skin was as dark as Alisha used to be, her blonde mane was replaced by jet black hair which were already starting to curl up, her magnificent blue eyes had been replaced by dull black irises and her facial features gave away her new pure African background. She was still very hot but of a kind of beauty so alien to her she was struggling to appreciate it. And, most of all, her identity was forever gone, how would she regain her boyfriend, her job, her life looking like a completely different person?

“Hehe how do you like your new ethnic vibe? That’s what you get for snatching the man of a black girl! Oh, don’t even try to tell Tyrone about this, I’m still very tempted to make you so fat and ugly you’d never have a boyfriend again. Be content to have become a hot black girl and ran away before I regret it!”

Katherine had little choice but to obey her, she moved to a new state with a fake ID and couldn’t find a better job than being an exotic dancer. She learned on her skin how differently women of colour are treated in her country and every comment she got about her skin or ethnicity was a painful reminder of the loss of her previous life, so unfairly stripped from her by her rival in love.

“What do you mean for my security, Tim?” 

“I’m sorry, Miss Larsen, we have already discussed this, as part of the witness protection program you have been assigned a new identity. Some procedures will be necessary in order to protect you.” 

“Just call me Hannah, please. Still, why genetic therapy and surgical procedures? I thought people usually got a new name, a new place to live in a different city and that was all.” 

“This time it’s different, the criminal organisation you testified against won’t spare any effort to trace you down and get their revenge, we need to do everything possible to make you unrecognisable” 

“I understand, I’m just worried about how am I going to look…”

“Our security experts have already elaborated your future appearance based on several Instagram models, so you don’t have to worry about feeling insecure about your new looks. We will inject you with an agent that will progressively replace your own DNA with the artificial one crafted by our geneticists, so there will be no way of knowing who you really are. Some additional surgeries will be required to adjust some details. The procedures will begin tomorrow at our top secret facilities, you won’t leave our top security facilities for the time being” 

“Can I at least know any detail about how am I going to look?”

“It’s better for your own security if this information doesn’t get spread around before the surgeries, I’m sorry. We’ll now perform some minor surgeries together with injecting the genetic agent to facilitate the transition and we’ll reassess the situation afterwards.”

When Hannah woke up from the sedation she was horrified to realise how much her complexion had changed.  She still looked like herself, just way more exotic. Her natural blonde mane was replaced with dark brown transplanted hair that gets curly at the extremities and her baby blue eyes, once her pride, were permanently covered in dark brown. Her skin also looked more tanned. When Tim checked on her, she erupted in a series of complaints “Why didn’t you tell me I was going to look like a completely different ethnicity too?” “I’m sorry your blue eyes and blonde hair had to go but we assumed you had no particular racial bias…” “Hmm, sorry, that’s not what I meant, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting this. Am I going to look like a Latina? Why do I also look younger?” “You will indeed look younger, but I’m not authorised to give you additional information. Just be aware that the changes are not done yet, we’ll leave you alone for some time so you can get accustomed with the changes in your body in privacy and we’ll get back to you in a few weeks, when a final surgical procedure will be necessary to implement some final changes that can’t be obtained by genetic therapy only.”

Hannah didn’t want to show any racial bias indeed – she’s never been racist, but she had always been proud of her Nordic features. Why did this have to happen to her? Why being forced to adopt a different ethnicity? And how was she going to look like? 

Diary entry – day 15

They aren’t even checking on me any longer. 

The DNA replacement is slowly proceeding, we’re two weeks in now and I look… I don’t even know what. My hair has become all frizzy, I don’t know what to do with it anymore. 

Still struggling to cope with all this. I only testified against them, it’s so unfair that I have to give up on my identity to this extent. I’m not racist but I was so proud of my English and Scandinavian background. 

On the bright side I do look younger and I also noticed my skin tone has stabilised now, I probably won’t get darker than this. I can’t believe I’ll have to straighten my hair from now on but with straight hair I might still pass for Italian or something. I’ll probably be just a slightly exotic white girl.

Diary entry – day 24

I guess I had spoken too early the last time. These new genes have really started to kick in and the results are pretty dramatic. I was trying to tell myself if was just the lighting but my skin is definitely a few shades darker now. It’s not just a tan, it’s a deep mocha color. My facial features have shifted a bit too, to match my new complexion I guess and my hair is even more frizzy if possible now. It’s hard to accept it but I won’t be able to pass for a white woman anymore with this complexion. I don’t know what to say.

My last set of surgeries is scheduled for tomorrow, I’m afraid of what I might look like afterwards.

Diary entry – day 28

The last remnants of my past self have been removed with the surgeries: my lips have been inflated, my nose and cheekbones remodelled and I even had to undergo breast implants surgery. I now have the body and the genetic heritage of a black girl. This is just too much, I can’t take it anymore.

They justified the boob job saying they wanted to make my body type match better with my new persona and ethnicity. Also, if anybody spotted traces of cosmetic surgery it would draw less attention in a doll-like girl with silicone breasts, they said, so I had to look the part. I cannot believe it. 

Apparently they also altered my metabolism so that I am now going to gain weight, no matter what I eat. With all the time I spent in gyms to keep my body thin now I’ll be forced to become a thick black girl.

Diary entry – day 97

My weight has finally reached a stable value now. Luckily all the fat has accumulated in “the right places” I guess, but the image I see in the mirror doesn’t reflect who I am inside. I might look like a hourglass-shaped thick black girl but I’m still the same classy thin white woman inside. 

At the same time, the signs of my new identity are everywhere. My new body shape has inevitably changed the way I walk for example, I can’t avoid swaying my hips in very obvious way, and they even insisted on teaching me new pronunciation patterns and vocabulary to “fit in more” – I’m only allowed to speak in black vernacular now, it will soon become natural to me, I was told.

I haven’t only lost the possibility to express myself freely, I have also lost access to my family wealth – I can rely only on a minimum wage salary and a tiny apartment in the outskirts of a big city of the south now so my lifestyle has changed dramatically.

I’m starting to realise that there’s no way back to who I was, I might as well learn to be a proud Black woman. So this is me now, I’m Alisha Williams and I’m going to be a busty black woman for the rest of my life. I still can’t believe this is real. 

Sonia was an Instagram star who did what many people refer to as blackfishing. She adopted an afro-inspired dreadlocks hairstyle, did lots of tanning sessions and filled her lips with various kinds of fillers.

She was noticed by the BLM movement, who decided to teach her a lesson about being black. They contacted her, telling her about how much of a good job she was doing at promoting black beauty and suggesting to help her fulfil that role even further. Too embarrassed to tell her about her true ethnicity, she replied them, thanking them and accepting the proposal. “It will probably be just some bullshit on Black history” – she thought.

When she met them, she made sure to look as black as possible, with dreadlocks and everything. She explained them she was mixed but was embracing her Black side more and more. They proposed her to try some experimental tanning injections, meant to make Black girls’ skin shine even more. She was slightly afraid of such a procedure but also excited to go even further into the whole blackfishing thing. Besides, it was only a temporary effect, she thought, why not trying it? She could have stopped as soon as the effects were too much. What she didn’t know, however, was that the injections actually aimed at replacing her DNA with pure African DNA, irreversibly altering her features.

After the first session, offered for free by BLM, she started noticing some effects pretty quickly: her skin was visibly darker in a matter of days. However, the effects didn’t stop there: her hips become broader, her butt started growing bigger, her skin darkened to an unprecedented tan which now fit in the light skin Black girl range. Her facial features were next. Subtle at first, the changes became harder and harder to ignore day after day: her nose flattened, her lips inflated to full African lips, her eyes darkened to a ink black color and changed shape.

When she couldn’t describe the changes as just a healthy tan she freaked out and called her reference person at BLM: “What have you done to me? I’m changing too much, I almost look like a full blooded black girl!” “That’s exciting, right? Keep us updated!” Too afraid to tell the truth, she could only stop taking the drugs and hoping this would be sufficient to reverse the changes.

However, it was way too late for that, as the were already in her circle. A few weeks later, she was unmistakably a black girl. Black skin, full figure, kinky hair in dreadlocks, strong African facial features, the whole package. She was now being treated like every Black person and learned the hard way the shortcoming of being black. She tried to hide herself, fearing being recognized but that was impossible. She hadn’t uploaded any picture ho her social media profiles since the transformation became apparent so there was no way she could be recognized.

When the BLM movement contacted her again, she had no more hopes left and just started crying “Why did you do this to me? I didn’t want to offend anyone, but I didn’t want to be black either!” “Nobody chooses their own ethnicity, we all have to live with that, just get used to your new life my dear!” “”Can’t you undo this? I promise I will apologise publicly!” “I’m afraid we can’t, sweetie! Also, don’t even try to use bleaching creams, we made your skin very irritable when coming in contact with” “Fuck, ok, you won, I’m really Black now. Now what? What have you planned for me?” “Oh, you can continue your career as an Instagram influencer, you’ll just have to start a new channel!” “But I lost my part-time job, my landlord won’t let me in, I don’t even have a valid ID card anymore!” “Why don’t you come by us so we can help you sort out your new life?”

Shortly later

“Oh, there you are, looking gorgeous! Why don’t you try on these new clothes? We thought you might as well change your style!”

A few minutes later

“Are you serious? Why would I dress like this?” “Hahaha, looking good sistah! Here’s your new identity: LaTrisha Jones, working as a back up dancer for a small African-American band!”

Claire was an aspiring violinist. She moved from her small town in Kentucky to New York where she would have bigger chances to succeed. However, the competition was tough, so the only offer she got was a shady announcement which mentioned helping young musicians succeed in their careers.

She had a rehearsal and was selected for the program. “Congratulations, you really impressed us with your skills! Thanks to our program you’ll get the best chances to succeed in your career! This will entail binding your artistic performances to our brand exclusively for 3 years, you know, we are going to invest a good amount of money on you and would like to see you artistically blossom within our brand of course! ” “Sure, that sounds… terrific” – Claire had no other options so the idea to only work for them for 3 years was not a big constriction. If anything, it made her feel secure. “What kind of investments do you have in mind?” “Oh, you know, we’ll leave the technicalities to our marketing experts, names, clothes, they might even slightly alter your appearance to make it more suitable to your audience’s taste…” “Wow, that sounds a bit extreme to me” – said Claire, suddenly feeling there was something shady there – “No worries, they’ll probably just get you a new set of concert dresses and a makeup artist” “That would be pretty nice actually! I just demand they won’t touch my hair, I’m really vain about my blonde mane and I wouldn’t change it to fit any diktat from above.” “Sure, we can include that in the contract: here – Keeping blonde hair”.

After having settled down that, there was another shady section about the music she was obliged to play “You would have to play the authors the producers demand you to play, would that be ok for you?” “Well, that’s how it usually goes in this kind of contracts I guess” She was expecting to have to make her repertoire a bit more popular than usual, like playing more Mozart, Beethoven and Brahms instead of the less known composers she preferred but she was kind of expecting this, so she signed the contract.

A few days later, she was scheduled for a visit in a medical facility where she was asked all sorts of questions, including where did her family live, where did her boyfriend live and so on. Unfortunately for her, her parents dies when she was a teenager, she broke up with her boyfriend as soon as she moved away from her hometown and she still basically didn’t know anybody in NY. Her closest relative was an old aunt living in Pennsylvania. She was told she was just going to get a few routinely blood tests, when she started to feel dizzy. The needle in her arm was pumping a powerful anaesthetic into her veins.

As soon as she lost conscience, the plastic surgeons started to operate on her. The changes required to her appearance were drastic and the producers didn’t’ want to waste the opportunity they saw in her. She had a great talent but classical music didn’t sell so well apart for a few people. Why not exploiting those musical skills in a way more commercial kind of music? How about a urban singer which is actually extremely talented? It would require lots of retraining, sure, but she would stand out so much! Of course, that would entail drastically altering her appearance and that was what the surgeons were busy with. They started by reshaping her facial features beyond recognition: her nose became flat and broad, her lips were unnaturally filled up, her blue eyes were covered in fake-looking pink permanent contact lenses, her whole face proportions were remodelled, erasing her Nordic features and giving her all the signs of an African background. Her breasts were inflated, making them look fake and plastic and her skin was permanently darkened to make it match the mocha colour which was becoming the new beauty reference. They were obliged to keep her hair blonde, but were left free to replace her natural blonde mane with a platinum blonde wig permanently glued to her scalp.

Weeks later, when she recovered, they dressed her up in a very revealing and trashy dress and woke her up.

“What happened, why did this take so long?” then she noticed her brown arms and went blank, not being able to make any sense of that. As soon as she took a glance to the nearest mirror, she started screaming

“What? Is this me? What the f**k have you done? You monsters! Nobody will recognise me now! My skin! My face! Oh f**k, is that what they meant in the contract?” “Precisely, my dear!” – said the producer, who had been observing the whole scene “I was expecting some criticisms from your side, so I am here to remind you of your duties. You are legally obliged to work for us for three years now, else you’ll have to pay a fine equal to the amount of money we spent on you, which is superior to one million dollars” “That’s a lot of money, I don’t have them!” “Of course not” “How do you even expect me to play the violin with these nails? Do you think an African American violinist would be more commercially appealing to a more diverse audience?” A part of her was starting to see the good side of the whole situation when she got a cold shower “Oh, we didn’t hire you to play that kind of music! We need you skills as an urban singer and dancer. You will start your training soon. We had to alter your appearance to give you better chances of success, altering your ethnicity was part of that. We hope you won’t mind but you certainly aren’t a bigot, are you?” Claire covered her face with her brown hands, hiding her anger and desperation. There was no way out at this point, they had tricked her into something unthinkable of. She, a black trashy singer? One of those music stars who were more appreciated for shaking their fake butts and boobs than for what they were singing? How could she have done this to herself, sacrificing everything to her career, even her own identity? F**k, she used to look like every man’s ideal wife, now she still looked hot but more as the dream of fuckboys or the kind of girl guys would be ashamed to introduce to their parents, unless she… No, she would have never dated a black guy

After months of brainwashing, Claire now LaBlonde was starting to sound convincing, even though a part of her was hating that.

After three years, she had given up her fake blonde hair color, the last remnant of her previously identity as she was getting negative comments about not embracing her heritage, so she started to show a more natural looking dark, curly wig. The same went for her eyes, which were now permanently covered in black pigment. She felt so defeated at that point she actually requested the changes herself, completely enslaved by what her public demanded from her.

When her contract was about to expire, she tried to pick up the violin again and realised her new skills had completely overwritten the old ones, maybe that was their plan all along. With one droplet of tear falling on her heavily made-up face, she realised that she was LaBlonde for good, a trashy black urban singer and her old identity was lost forever.