Cindy was a pretty blonde girl who wanted to surprise her boyfriend for Halloween. She knew he had a thing for Latinas, even if she couldn’t understand why would he like dull brown eyes and boring dark hair – she was kind of a racist – but still wanted to satisfy his need at least once.
So she contacted the Swap inc., a borderline illegal company offering body swaps for a low price, specifically seeking a good-looking Latina to trade body with. The company was seen as shady by many as it was said they covered illegal immigration affairs with their tools but that was probably just some bullshit.
When Cindy was contacted by the company, they showed her the picture of the hottest Latina she’d even seen. She agreed immediately and met with the girl, a Dominican named Carolina, on the day before Halloween. They connected their brains to some dedicated machines and a few minutes later the swap was over. They left with the agreement to meet again in 48 hours.
As soon as Cindy was back home, in Carolina’s body, she checked out how she looked and told herself “Fuck, she’s such a babe! I’m kind of envious of this body now, haha”.
On Halloween day, she told her boyfriend to come at her place to spend a fun night together, telling him to expect a surprise from her.
When he entered the door, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. So, she stared at him playfully and said: “Come on, don’t be so shy! I know you like Latinas, it’s ok, I thought you would have enjoyed having a latina girlfriend for one night, so I swapped body with this Dominican girl. It’s still me inside here so no need to feel guilty!”
They had the best sex of their lives, and the morning later she headed to the place where she was supposed to meet the other girl, in her body.
After a while, she checked the time “Dammit, she should have been here one hour ago!” – so she called the agency, but nobody answered. She then started to panic, so, feeling a presentiment, she checked for any news about the Swap inc. and to her dismay she found out that the company was declared illegal and forced to stop its services with immediate effect. Usually, customers were contacted and swapped back but apparently her body swap partner must have been an illegal immigrant as she already suspected so she took her chances to get away with a new face and ethnicity. “I’m so fucked, I have the body of an illegal immigrant and no way to get mine back! – she thought – My only chance is to convince Jake to marry me as I am so that I can be an American citizen again!”
As soon as she came back home, she put on a revealing dress and prepared herself to seduce her boyfriend once more.
“Hey babe, you know what, I’ll keep this body so you can have your hot Latina wife every time you need her.” “Why did you… ? – her boyfriend started to freak out – You my Family would never accept me marrying a brown girl! Oh God, why? Ok, that went too far, we’re done! Good luck with new life, chica!”
A few months later
After having attempted everything to win her boyfriend back or to get in contact with the girl who was now inhabiting her body, Cindy, who now went by Carolina, realised that the only way to earn money was by doing something illegal, as she had no valid documents, so the best she could manage was becoming a luxury escort. Highly educated Latinas were in high demand, so she could easily earn lots of money in a short period of time. However, police controls were becoming tighter so it was a matter of time before they caught her. Sooner rather than later, she would have to collect all her savings and to move in the Dominican Republic, the only place where she could legally stay and fit in the society. What would her life be there? She was afraid to even think about that. Even if the perspective of being a wealthy latina woman with a gorgeous body was kind of exciting. Maybe she would get herself a local man to enjoy her wealth and youth even more!
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.
Everyday Ann was often referred to as a “chica caliente” or other names by her colleagues, who were precisely told to do so. A part of her was secretly aroused by this, but she always played offended when referred to in those terms.
What Ann was not aware of is that while she was sleeping she was fed with melanin stimulators which made her skin, hair and eyes get darker by the days. Toward the end of the month, Maria secretly brought her to a secret cosmetic surgery ambulatory out of town, where a female friend of her, also Latina and fed up with all the discrimination she was forced to face on a daily basis, further modified poor Ann’s appearance. Her height was reduced by compressing her spine, her face was completely remodelled to make it look like a young and attractive Latina girl, her natural blonde hair was eradicated from her scalp and replaced with jet black straight hair. Now she looked exactly like her Virtual Reality image.
After that, she was sent to Guadalajara in Mexico, where she woke up, scantly dressed and with nothing else than a purse with a few pesos in her hand.
“What’s this now, do I get to experience a real Latina girl life in some shithole country?” While figuring out where she was, she tried to talk to a few horny men who were too distracted by her curvy figure to be able to answer her properly. From their broken English, she was told where to find an American consulate in town. Once she got there, she demanded to be brought back to the States, her company was probably going to pay for the travel expenses. The clerk seemed suspicious “Name and date of birth, please miss” “Ann Clover, 13 January 1989”. A few moments later, the clerk replied, vaguely embarrassed “We have a matching profile in our database but you don’t look anything like her, miss”. “Oh come on, is that a joke? Let me get rid of this stupid VR thing” – doing so, she tried for the first time in a month to get rid of the device she had gotten used to wear. But there wasn’t anything there! She panicked for a few instants before reaching the closest mirror. “What the fuck? Where’s the device?” “Ehm are you ok miss?” – they asked her. “I was wearing a Virtual Reality device, that’s why I looked like this, I thought, and and…” “Ok, that makes no sense. You have wasted enough of our time here. Security, please escort her out of here.” “Take your hands off me, you dirty *******!”
What the actual f**k, had they messed up with her so badly? She hid in a dark alley and checked her boobs behind the bra. It felt absolutely real, that wasn’t absolutely augmented reality. It was however augmented in a way as she saw a scar below the globes. They had actually operated her to make look like like… “Oh shit” she managed to say, before fainting.
When she woke up, her destiny had had a fatal blow again. Maria’s plan was to rescue her a few hours later and to give her a new identity as a Mexican immigrant to allow her to live a decent life at least, even if she wanted her to espiate her sins. However, a pimp noticed her luscious body in the empty alley and took her to his brothel, figuring some other pimp was invading his area. However, he found no signs of identification and concluded it was his lucky day. That was going to be a good addition to his collection of girls.
1 year later
Maria realised that something went wrong pretty soon but she was powerless. There was no way to contact Ann so she did her best to hide the clues that would lead the police to her. After a few months, Ann was declared disappeared and the police lost interest in the case. Maria was indeed one of the last people to have seen her but there was no way of suspecting her role in the whole story. However, she felt deeply guilty about what could have happened to Ann and, as soon as she had some free time, she went back to Guadalajara looking for her. At some point, she had a suspicion and started checking the prostitutes standing in the main road. After a while, she spotted her, her face covered in heavy makeup, even more scantly dressed than before and shameless shaking her fake butt. “Ann, is that you?” Maria asked her, in English. It took a moment for Ann, who now went by Anita, to recognise her but she hated her so much she didn’t want to give her any satisfaction. She could have regained her freedom now but pride was more important to her. “Yes, it’s me and you know what, what you did to me was the best thing ever to happen to me! I have always been a slut, you helped me to embrace it!” “What are you saying? Are you drugged or what?” “Not at all! Oh, I see you can’t keep your eyes off me, I also offer services to girls you know? No judgement, haha!”
Ann was a racist, arrogant white businesswoman who worked in a large corporation. The times were changing, so one person, namely Maria, a mixed latina woman, was tasked to guarantee that no racist attitudes were allowed in the company.
One day, during a meeting with the top managers of the company, Ann made a remark about how unfair were diversity quotas: “How many more brown girls will we have to employ to satisfy these requirements? Don’t we have enough of them already?”
Maria immediately reposted her and was asked to come up with a proper punishment for Ann. Maria had this planned for a long time: a virtual reality device which would make her look like a brown girl herself, so that she would live in first person what so many people had to endure. She’d have to wear that device for one month, all day long.
“When you’ll look at yourself, you will now see a Latina teen girl” said Maria, smiling while handing Ann the device. “Oh, fuck this, let’s get over with it as soon as possible!” – replied Ann. “With pleasure” – grinned Maria while locking the device on Ann’s face.
Once Ann had the device on, she saw a pair of brown arms stretching from her torso, short black hair partially covering her eyesight and a great pair of breasts on her chest. “Holy crap! Why did you have to make me look like a busty latina teenager? I look ridiculous!” “You’ll work here as an intern. Everybody will see who you really are, but they were told to freely refer to you with racial slurs to make you feel how you made minorities feel”
When she came back home, she tried to see if she could get rid of the effects of the VR device by taking a picture of herself, with no avail – “I even look like that if I take a selfie, this virtual reality is insanely realistic!” – she told to herself – “Never mind, It’s just a fucking virtual reality thing!”
Anna was a naive, innocent, traditional girl from Eastern Europe who wanted to move to Los Angeles to kick off a career in the modelling industry or alternatively as an actress.
However, the policy with ethnic quotas basically excluded fair, blonde and blue-eyed people. Beauty standards had shifted massively with the demographic changes in the States in recent times and the beauty industry couldn’t promote Eurocentric beauty standards anymore.
So when she was hired, she had to accept she was going to undergo cosmetic surgery to adapt her to the ruling beauty standards.
The modifications weren’t too drastic but it was hard to recognise her afterwards nevertheless.
They replaced her blonde mane with transplanted dark brown hair, injected her irises with dark pigments, slightly remodelled her facial features and darkened her skin tone by a few shades.
When she woke up from the surgery she was anxious to see how she looked and she really didn’t like it at first.
She looked too much like most of the Mediterranean-looking brunettes who dominated the beauty industry nowadays, she knew she had more chances to succeed now but she felt like she’d betrayed her own heritage.
After a while, however she started appreciating her new looks and enjoying the popularity that derived from them. She had to admit she was hotter now than before.
Together with her new looks she gained a new persona, as a socialite in the modelling industry. She loved how confident and disinhibited she felt, she even changed the way she dressed in social occasions
In the end she forgot any principle she used to have and fully embraced the persona she had become: a scantly dressed brunette who would do anything to achieve her goals.
Some people say that the new virus was artificially crafted by the Black Lives Matter movement, but it’s probably just one of those conspiracy theories. All we know is that when we thought the situation with Covid-19 couldn’t get any worse, a new version of the virus developed somewhere in the States. As the usual one, it was extremely contagious and no cure nor vaccine could stop it, however this version had a new interesting secondary effect: it changed people’s ethnicity. More precisely, it turned white women into black women. It didn’t seem to affect men nor women of other ethnicities. Most people were perfectly healthy after the acute phase, just… very different. The psychological consequences were the worst ones, black female psychologists were hired by the government to introduce patients to their new lives as Black women and girls.
Some the patients were struggling more than others to accept their new ethnicity, like my friend Ashley here.
She used to be a stunning blonde cheerleader and looks now like a cute, although average Black girl. She barely leaves her bed now and can’t stand her image in the mirror. Even feeling her kinky hair gives her too much pain, she says.
Others could have been happy with their new form but were harmed by interiorised racism like Kate, who woke up as a dark skin beauty.
As soon as she got infected her family isolated her not to get infected and cut all their bonds with her. Having a black daughter was too much of a shame for them. They gave her enough money to pay her rent a few months and that was all. Kate herself hated black people and couldn’t believe her bad luck when she woke up as one. She spends now lots of time in front of the mirror looking for remnants of her whiteness which could tell her apart from real black girls but all the white she can have on herself now are her clothes, which make her skin look even darker in contrast. She then moved to a new city and started working as a waitress but still hates her gorgeous body and spends all her savings in useless skin whitening creams.
Most of the victims were left by their boyfriends, too shocked by the extent of their transformation, so these days pubs are filled with single Black girls. Most of them were easily recognised as the transformed ones due to their “White girl” way of talking. So, in order not to be seen as victims and desperate for boys, most of them have decided to pick up a Black accent, dealing a fatal blow to their old identity and pride. You can find lots of Black accent schools around the country these days, where delighted Black girls teach new Black girls how to speak.
Also, white girls now avoided systematically all Black girls fearing to be infected so the newly transformed Black girls had to rebuild new social circles among Black people.
One day, when the new wave of the epidemics seemed to be under control, I stetted to feel more relaxed. I still didn’t go out so much but when a Black girl approached my car asking for directions I decided I didn’t; want to behave like a racist person and rolled the car window down. Big mistake. It turned out, the girl was recently dismissed my a hospital after having suffered from the virus and, although she was tested negative, you never knew how the virus worked exactly.
A few days after, I started having the usual symptoms, fever, cough, but I told me it was only a cold. A few more days and my skin was starting to get darker. At that point, I know I was doomed. I called 911 and lost my consciousness as soon as I got to the hospital.
While other girls suffered a lot from it, I see it more as an opportunity. I never was really hot. I used to be a skinny blonde girl, the kind of girl everybody kind of likes but nobody finds hot. I was also kind of shy and self-conscious. At 23, I had still no boyfriend as it looked like all the cute boys were more into curvy women these days.
That was going to change, I knew it as soon as I woke up from the coma – I got a strong version of the virus, one of those which knocks you down really bad and takes all the time needed to remodel your body into something completely different.
My new face was completely alien to me. I had very big lips, a very broad nose, black eyes and black kinky hair, although I decided I preferred to wear a wig from now on. And obviously I had a dark brown skin. Everything about me screamed African. I wasn’t a racist person, I had Black friends even before the pandemic, and I strongly supported the cause of BLM. However, joining the protests and returning to my usual life as a blonde white girl was entirely different from actually becoming one of them.
However, I decided to make the most of it, I developed a new persona, more confident and sexier than the girl I used to be. I changed my accent to match my new body and face, I studied African American history in depth and fully embraced my blackness. Sometimes I still missed by cute blue eyes but with time I managed to see myself more and more as a Black woman.
I could now dress in a way sexier way, by choosing clothes that complimented my new curves – I was so curvy right now, I had to completely renew my wardrobe!
My old name, Gloria, was too linked to the person I used to be, so I had it legally changed to Latisha.
Tonight I’m going clubbing for the first time as my new self. I have been tested negative for a while now but just to be sure I’m going to a Black-only club. While many transformed girls sticked to white men for dating, I decided if I wanted to feel like a proud Black woman I should date Black men. I always had a thing for them honestly but I somehow felt I would have been judged for that, and I was too skinny for them anyhow. Not anymore.
Here I am, I tried not to dress too slutty but I have to admit it’s kind of hard with a killer body like mine.
Ann was a brilliant journalist, always passionate for reports from war areas or authoritarian regimes. She was currently focused on China and specifically on the assimilation program reserved to the Uyghurs, an ethnic minority in the west of the country.
She managed to sneak in a cultural rehabilitation camp to get some information about it, only to get caught and imprisoned with the other prisoners.
She spent months being forced to study Chinese culture and language, with little time left to plan her escape. She was closely watched all the time so there was nothing she could do for the time being. In the meanwhile, she was given large quantities of some sort of special tea which contained a mix of hormones which stimulated her hair follicles to produce dark pigments, until her hair darkened from her natural blonde colour to jet black.
One day Ann woke up after an unexpected cosmetic surgery with an Asian-looking face. “Oh my God – she thought – nobody will recognise me now!”
“What did they do to my eyes? They look so dark and almond-shaped!”
Since then, she was given more freedom, to the point when she managed to escape from the camp and to reach a local public phone where she called the American embassy in China. However, the calls were registered so she was quickly kidnapped again.
She was taken back to the camp, where she underwent another surgery, now focused on her brain.
After the surgery she had completely forgotten her previous identity and was eager to fulfil her new role in society as a Chinese woman.
Josh was a ruthless policeman well-known for the disproportionate violence he used against African Americans. He always managed to avoid being prosecuted for it but it was a well-known fact. His colleagues knew him for being a white supremacist.
Therefore, a secret branch of the All Lives Matter movement decided to take action and to try to change his view on black people. They kidnapped his daughter Angela during a school trip in the woods, returning her a few days after, apparently unharmed. They actually implanted melanine stimulators under her skin, coupled with other artificial hormone implants which were programmed to affect her development at specific times. Angela was the love of Josh’s life so he was extremely happy when she was found. She couldn’t remember anything so they concluded she got lost in the woods and forgot the whole experience as a reaction to the traumatic.
The incident was forgotten, and Angela grew up.
By one year, she had grown up quite a bit, but something else had changed about her too, she started having a darker complexion. His father would have preferred her to stay blonde as when she was younger but knew that hair often darkens with age in kids, so he wasn’t too bothered by that.
However, a few years later her hair and eyes had turned completely brown, at odds with her family’s colours. Most people assumed she was Latina at this point. To her father’s dismay, she even started to have more friends in the latino community as they seemed to be more welcoming to her than white kids.
At this point, people started to notice Angela’s changed complexion and started spreading rumours that her actual father was a Latino man Josh’s wife was having an affair with. Josh couldn’t stand the idea so he had her take a DNA. However, confirmed that Angela’s natural parents were Josh and his wife.
Then one summer during a summer camp things suddenly changed. Being exposed to the sunlight all day, her skin quickly tanned, at an unseen speed for a white girl.
Not only her skin would quickly darken, but her facial features were also slowly slightly remoulded.
At the end of the camp, she didn’t look as a white girl anymore. She freaked out and sent a selfie to her dad, who didn’t know what to say.
Not only that, she also quickly began to grow a fuller feature. Puberty was hitting her, so that was nothing surprising.
But the speed at which her skinny figure became a curvy one was exceptional.
Within one year, her figure was that of a curvy model. What a change from the skinny white girl she used to be!
Her skin continued to darken, to the point when it was simply impossible to describe it as a deep tan. Her nose also became broader. She kept on wearing sunglasses as much as she could because she was ashamed of what was happening to her.
At some point, Angela had to face reality: she was now a black girl. “At this point I might as well embrace who I am, instead of being ashamed of it! – she thought – I can still be a hot girl, even if not the blonde, blue-eyed my parents expected me to be!”
She went to a hairdresser’s specialised in afro hair to get her hair straightened.
With a few adjustments to her makeup, she was absolutely stunning.
She felt pretty again and in the end decided to embrace her natural curls. However, being so focused on her looks and feeling the effects of the hormones, her grades fell and she had to drop out of high school. Given her amazing body, she easily got a job in a stripper club downtown.
Alexis was an American high class escort. She was already filthy rich but she always wanted more. After a few proficuous years of escorting in Las Vegas, London and Amsterdam she discovered a better way to get rich quick: being a personal escort, entirely devoted to one man for a certain period of time. The salary was a tenfold increase from her previous one, so after a couple of years of that she would be as rich as she could ever get after a whole career of plain escorting.
She contacted an agency and submitted an application with her portfolio. Handing in the portfolio with her naked pictures, she felt some mild disgust for herself. That’s not the career she wanted to do. She wanted to be a model, or an actress… But maybe one day with a ton of money saved she could become a Hollywood socialitè or something like that.
After a while, she was told by the agency that they had found a possible match: Amir, the young son of an emir was looking for his first concubine, the highest position available for a non-Muslim woman in the tradition of his Emirate. The salary was absolutely incredible, another tenfold increase from her expectations. “Wow, this sounds incredible! He looks hot too! What’s the catch?” “Well – her agent said – the contract mentions possible body modifications to adjust your body to his type, but it guarantees that it would allow you to have a successful career as a model afterwards.” “Oh, that’s weird – said Irina – should I worry about it?” “Nah, you are stunning and young and he was explicitly looking for a blonde fair-eyed girl like you, with your body measures, so I’m not expecting it to exploit this part of the contract. In the worst case you might end up with slightly bigger breasts…” “Well, I like my D cups as they are, and I don’t want to end up with giant udders, these Arab men like their women to be curvy, right? I’ll sign the contract if he assures me that my weight will remain the same after any modification!”
After a few days, this clause was approved by Amir so the deal was confirmed.
Irina quickly terminated her previous contact and flew to Riyadh, where she was picked up by the emir’s staff. She sat in a limousine for hours. As the glasses were completely black, she had no idea where exactly she was heading to. She was served food and any kind of commodity, apart from internet connection. “Shit – she thought – I really wanted to upload a selfie on my Instagram”. She asked the driver but with no avail “Something’s fishy here – she thought”.
However, when she finally arrived, her fears disappeared. She was going to live in something grander than any villa or resort she had ever seen.
Amir was the coolest guy she could hope for: fluent in English, athletic, smart and filthy rich.
They had a good chemistry, so their time together in bed was really enjoyable.
“You’re so hot – she said – and your big brown eyes make you so sexy!” “You would look sexy too with brown eyes!” That caught her off guard. She remembered about the clause and started to worry “Yeah, sure, they are so warm, but I think that my eyes fit better with my face as they are, don’t you think so?” “We’ll see about that, but now I really want to see you with brown eyes”. “I could try on contact lenses if you want”. “No, I prefer something more realistic. I’ll schedule a quick procedure for you in my private cosmetic clinic. You won’t feel anything and the recovery will be extremely quick!”. “What kind of procedure is that? I know it was possible to turn brown eyes blue but I have never heard of the opposite!” “That’s just due to Eurocentric beauty standards, but this will change someday – he added with a grin – anyway, to answer your question, yes, it’s perfectly possible.”
She looked so different now! Contrasting with her brown eyes, now her blonde hair looked dyed. “Haha, my hair looks dyed now!” “Would you like to explore your look further? To lose yourself in the bliss of body modification?” She was so turned on by the whole situation, for the first time in years she wasn’t just working, she actually felt attracted to the man. “Yes, I want to try it! But, nothing permanent this time! Just a hair dye, ok?” “Call in the nurses, don’t worry sweetie, you’ll love your new look”
Alexis woke up some days later from the anaesthesia. “Why anaesthesia?” “Oh, you got some fillers and botox in the meanwhile, nothing to worry about.”
“Fuck! My hair looks so different! And my skin!” “Oh yes, about that, you spent some time in a tanning booth. Amir’s plan.”
She thought it was just a perm, little did she know that she had gotten hair transplant. Her hair would always grow dark and curly now. Her skin also looked more tanned, not due to tanning sessions as she thought but due to several melanin stimulators planted below her skin.
“Cristina will be your beauty consultant, you’ll meet her shortly.”
Cristina was a gorgeous Latina woman who secretly loved to show white women how to embrace their new ethnic flavour.
“I have always been a Nordic beauty, I am scared of what I am becoming. ” ” Who said that only blue eyes and blond hair mean beauty? You’ll grow long, curly black hair, matching your brown eyes, you’ll look gorgeous!” Juanita caressed her hair. The idea of this Latina woman telling her that she should embrace her new look was oddly erotic to her. “Just embrace it, ok?”
“I gave you hair extensions, when you’ll be done with your makeup I’ll give you beautiful curls like you had before you got the extensions!”
“Fuck, I look so exotic now! I can’t believe it only took some tanning sessions, brown hair and eyes and makeup to make me look like this! I don’t even look white anymore!”
“Please, use the clothes I provided you, they’ll match your new look perfectly! – Cristina told her while curling her hair extensions – I’m sure Amir will love the new you!”
“Welcome to the club, chica! Now you look like the perfect Latina woman!”
“Wow, I’m hot! I look like a Mexican woman!”
Amir was amazed: “Wow, I am speechless! We’re the same colour now, isn’t that erotic?” “True, mmh I guess it is pretty hot!”
The sex was great, and Alexis was really aroused by her transformation, being a brown girl having sex with a brown man made her feel like she was watching someone else in a porn video or something like that. After a few weeks, however, she started to look pensive “Are you ok, cutie?” – Amir asked her once “Sure, it’s just some details I have noticed. Why does my skin keep on getting darker even if I’m not tanning now? And why can’t I see any blonde regrowth in my hair? I got it dyed two weeks ago, it should be visible by now?” “Oh, about that… I have to tell you something. You actually got hair transplant and melanin stimulators under your skin. Those procedures are not, strictly speaking irreversible but even with your salary you won’t be able to afford to undo them before decades of work here. So yeah, for all practical purposes you aren’t a white woman anymore! “
“What? You ruined my life! How can I live like this? Why did you do this to me?” “Do you know what’s the percentage of white people on Earth now? Around 10%, and it will keep on decreasing! And yet, you white people behave as if you were the majority! 90% of people aren’t white, you can also live with that! On top of that, turning white women into brown ones is one of my deepest fantasy!”
“I can’t believe I’m stuck like this now!” – said Alexis, on the verge of crying. “Not for long, you’ll get darker than that.”
Back to her room, Alexis was staring at herself in the mirror, without being able to recognise herself. “Me, a brown woman? I don’t want to be a minority now! What will my family say? I hid to them my true job for years but how could I hide this to them?” “Jesus, this is insane! My skin is so tanned now! Fuck, I look hot! I know this is wrong but the idea to be changed to please Amir turns me on like hell”
“I love your skin tone, but we need to do something with that face. You are as dark as an African woman but your face is still too Western. You could be Somali now maybe, but that has to change!” “No, please, stop!” “You signed a contract, remember? Nurses, sedate her!”
“Now we are talking!” “How do I look like now? I want to see myself! My hair! You changed them again!” “No mirrors allowed, sorry. You’ll need some time to get used to your new face” “I’m scared, why do you keep on transforming me?” “You are so hot, looking scared and not knowing what you look like! I told you, it’s my fetish! And you like to be changed to please me, admit it!” “No, I’m scared!” “Oh come on, being turned into my little African concubine is pretty hot, right?” “Nooo! “
After an amazing session in bed, Amir told her: “I will be gone for a few weeks, I’ll tell Cristina to make full use of the tanning beds to stimulate your melanin production even further. I’d also like you to have a new hairstyle”. “My hair feels to kinky already, what do want to do with it now?”
At Cristina’s salon
Cristina: “Wow, I see you have changed quite a bit, girl!” “I don’t like talking about it. What did he plan to do with my hair?” “He wants you to have afro braids, you will always wear them when you’ll be here” “Oh jeez, this keeps on getting worse!”
When she was done, Alexis could finally see herself in the mirror. “What? That’s not me anymore, I hate you all!” After having run to her apartment, she summoned the strength to look at herself at the mirror again. “Ok, let’s be real. This is how I will look for the foreseeable future. I will eventually revert to look normal again but I first need to get used to this look. My hair feels weird and so does my nose and my lips but that’s ok. I look still really hot, I can be an African-American model. I might as well enjoy this time.”
A few weeks later, the tanning session were showing on her skin. When amis came back, she was ready to greet him “Hey babe, whatssup? You look hot today!” “Great Allah, you look wild!” “Ready for some action?”. Their last months together were marked with exceptionally good chemistry in bed as Alexis was finally embodying Amir’s ideal type and had started to indulge in her submissive side which was thriving in this situation.
After her contract expired, Alexis did what she could to look normal again, she even overdid the hair thing, having her hair disentangled, straightened and dyed platinum blonde, almost white. She had her eye color turned to grey, but nothing could be done for her skin and facial features because no surgeon wanted to make a black woman as now Alexis was look whiter, it would be bad for the name of the clinic. They always encouraged her to embrace her apparent origins.
So Alexis was left frustrated, confused with her identity and always envious of all the white women around her.
Kirsten was a CIA agent fighting the Mafia. Fighting the Italian-American Mafia was a tough business and she wanted to do her best to eradicate it starting by cutting its bounds with its native land of Sicily, in southern Italy.
She had already spent there a few months and was making good process in her investigation when don Vincenzo Corleone decided to take action against her. He set up a trap where one of his henchman told her he was willing to speak out and leak the information she needed. However, he wanted to meet her personally, without other agents supporting her. She did so, but when she arrived in the courtyard where she was supposed to meet the man she was put to sleep by means of a needle shot from the distance. She was then collected by Vincenzo’s henchman and brought to him.
When Kirsten woke up, she was tied up in front of Vincenzo. Realising her situation, she suddenly panicked. “Oh my God, no! What are you going to do to me now? I know what you are able to do, please let’s try to find a compromise! I’ll deviate the investigations away from you!” “Is it so easy to break an American CIA agent? Haha, you are disappointing me, Kristen! No, I can’t let you go. You know too much. But don’t worry, we aren’t using the old methods anymore. We make people disappear in more subtle ways nowadays…” Kirsten bursted into tears “Please, I beg you! I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll… be your concubine if you want but please don’t kill me!” “This is a very generous offer, young lady but I’m a happily married man and when I say I value trustworthiness, it goes both ways. There is, however, something missing in my life. I have had four handsome sons but I haven’t been blessed with a daughter. You are going to be mine.” “What? But… I don’t even look Italian.” “These details can be fixed, don’t worry Kristen! So, do you accept?” “I don’t have much of a choice. Yes, I… I accept to become your daughter.” “Excellent! From now, your name will be Cristina Corleone, not that you will need any documents anymore of course. Tomorrow you’ll find a file about my family in your apartment. Take your time to learn everything you need about our family and what is expected from you. When you’ll be ready, but necessarily by the end of the week, drink the sleep-inducing drink you’ll find by your bed. My men will take you to my private clinic when you’ll be asleep. When you’ll wake up, you’ll be my 23 years old daughter.”
Kristen waited the whole week, hoping for her colleagues to find her, but with no avail. The file didn’t contain anything she didn’t already know, apart from some strict behavioural rules she was expected to follow.
At the end of the week, she stared one last time at herself in the mirror, putting some makeup on to admire her beauty ne last time. She was so proud of her Nordic features yet she knew they were going to be dramatically altered soon. When she finally drank the drug, she was weeping silently thinking about what was going to happen to her.
Some weeks later, she woke up in a hospital bed. However, she wasn’t allowed to see herself until she was fully dressed, makeup was applied and Vincenzo entered the room.
“Now you can admire yourself, Cristina! Welcome to my family!”
“Fuuck! What’s with my skin? And my eyes! Oh no, my beautiful blue eyes look so dull and brown now! And my hair is so dark! I don’t look like anybody in my family anymore!” “You look like you belong to my family now! We used genetic engineering techniques to alter your DNA to make it match a mix of mine and my wife’s, so you are technically my daughter now! Your Italian course will now keep you occupied for most of your time!”
After the initial shock, Kristen now Cristina started to plan her revenge. That was too much. She played the part of the resigned daughter and managed to steal an old digital camera she found around. She documented the large villa where she lived, including the mountains she could see from there, hoping for her colleagues to identify the location. Then she e-mailed them to her colleagues from the laptop of one of the men who worked there, using a new email address she had just created.
However, the network was constantly monitored there, so Vincenzo quickly know about it and decided to punish her. “You are lucky I have already transformed you, otherwise I would have killed you. Being my daughter, your punishment will be milder. I will erase most of your memory and skills.” “No, please! I’ll never do it again, I’ll be a good daughter!” “Too late for that.”
When she woke up, she felt very dizzy. She remembered something evil was going to be done to her, but she forgot what. Then Vincenzo entered the room. “How are you Cristina?” “I’m ok, I guess.” “That’s great to hear. Now, let’s take a short test. Tell me about your “real” self!” “Well, I was an American agent fighting the Mafia, we both know about that, why are you asking me?” “Which agency?” She opened her mouth and suddenly stopped. Was it CIA or FBI? One was for domestic crime, the other one for international crime, she saw it in movies, but which one was hers? Then she realised what had been done to her. “I… I don’t know! What have you done to my mind?” “Tell me, who are your parents?” “You and Maria… Oh God no!” “Sweet. And where are you from?” “From Sicily of course, I remember growing up here and… What? No, I’m from the States, from some big city over there… Jesus, it’s so blurred in my memory!” “Don’t let doubt creep into your mind. You are a cute Sicilian girl, that’s it! Why would be talking Italian now, otherwise?” “Because you want me to, but my mother tongue is English!” “So – Vincenzo said, switching to English – tell me about yourself.” “Is that English? I… I didn’t get a word” and started crying.
A few weeks later, her colleagues from the Stated noticed her disappearing and flew to Sicily to look for her. One of them was talking to people in the nearby town, trying to get some information, but with no avail. In the meanwhile, Cristina was allowed to walk freely around, she had learned her lesson and even if she told people in the village her story in Italian, local were too afraid of the Mafia boss to take action against him.
One of her colleagues noticed her, dressed in a traditional Sicilian dress and thought: “Here is a local girl, let’s ask her!” “Hi young lady! Have you seen an American young woman in this town recently? Tall, blonde…” “Non capisco… Oh Dio, non parlo più inglese! Parla italiano, signore?” “Ehm no, I’m sorry, wait a moment” and showed her a picture of her true self, pointing at it. Then she immediately understood and started saying “Sono io, sono Cristina! No, sono Cristina!” “Ehm, nice to meet you Cristina, thanks anyway” he said, jumping on his car and leaving. He didn’t want to raise too much attention around him and clearly this girl wasn’t able to communicate with him anyway. Cristina remained speechless, realising she had lost her last chance to be rescued.
Several months later, she started having new issues. She didn’t mess her country or family anymore as she couldn’t remember them, but on the other hand she hadn’t had sex in one year now, so she went to Vincenzo to talk about that. “Listen daddy, I love all the attentions you have for me but I… You know, also need to meet people my age.” “Do you mean, boys? Haha, sure, talk openly about it!” “Look, I had a boyfriend back in the US but now… I need a new person in my life. Oh Kyle, I can’t believe what I am saying, forgive me!” “Forget about your old life, I don’t want to hear any reference about it anymore!” “As for your… Urges they are perfectly understandable. I would never make my daughter suffer in solitude. On the other hand, you have to understand that my family has some standards to keep, so I’ll personally take care of the choice of your husband.” “Husband? I was thinking more of a boyfriend… And I’m used to be free to chose who I like!” “That’s not how it works in my family, Cristina. You are not, as Americans would say, a free woman. You are my daughter, and we a re a very traditional family”.
A few weeks later, she was introduced to the son of a minor Mafia family. Vincenzo told her that their marriage was going to tie new bonds between the two families, hence strengthening the position of their family and the whole criminal organization in general.
She had to admit that he was a fine man and it didn’t take long before some action took place between them. Being faced with the alternative to remain an unmarried woman for the rest of her life, she surrendered to the inevitable and accepted to marry him.
She had become Cristina Corleone, and she was going to be a mob wife for the rest of her life, playing a key role in the criminal organization she used to fight against once.
Alexxx's RC F2F stories 