Lera was a naive young girl from Eastern Europe, who moved to the US hoping to be discovered by the modelling industry and become a big movie star or fashion model. However, she learned the hard way that success is never easy. After being turned down countless times she got so desperate she tried an audition as a porn actress just to survive as she did not want to come back home as a loser. However, even the porn industry was extremely competitive and Lera, as a plain blonde girl did not have great hopes of success. She was told by her agent that if she wanted better roles she would have to alter her appearance. She was offered a package of cosmetic surgeries in exchange of a binding contract for a few years. Lera was so desperate she signed the deal. In a few years she would be able to have a real career in the modelling industry with a better appearance, she told herself. However, it turned out not to be how she had hoped. They began modifying her basic appearance. With a new technique, Lera’s real blonde hair was replaced with long, wavy black hair. In keeping with her darker look, her eye color was changed as well to a very deep brown hue. A slight tan, a general remodelling of her facial features did the rest to give her a Hispanic appearance.
She was so shocked at how different she looked, she tried to avoid looking at herself in the mirror as much as she could. She had always received compliments on her blonde hair and fair complexion and couldn’t understand how her darker complexion would make her more attractive. They had made clear that the surgeries were expensive and that she would be required to pay them back, however it was not clear to her that her new main source of income would come from being a high-class escort rather than an actress, even if a porn actress. Lera threatened them to call the police but was told that they had taken her passport away from her and that she was effectively an illegal immigrant from now on, so calling the police would result in an immediate expulsion from the country.. She made an attempt to get a job in the modelling industry but she soon discovered that her darker appearance now made a career in modelling more difficult as ironically they were primarily searching for blonde girls. Lera reluctantly agreed to the demeaning role of high-class escort just to realise that she would start her new career as a street hooker, to eventually earn the position of call escort if she was popular enough.
Lera was so ashamed of what had become of her. What would her family say to her if they knew she was now a call girl? She still couldn’t believe this was her real life! Lera used to be a shy, cute and a bit boring blonde girl who grew up in the Easter European countryside so she struggled to impersonate the role of a confident, sensual Latina she was required to play from now on. Her first clients complained about that so her boss decided to make her smoke some weed to relax her a bit. The drug helped to make her less tense, her looks and skimpy outfits did the rest so she eventually began to satisfy her clients and to earn some decent money. It was intoxicating how much she could earn by performing oral sex or anal sex and she also became more and more talented in pleasuring men in all sorts of different ways. She accepted her situation more and more as time went on, until she had to admit to herself she didn’t mind being a prostitute.
With the new name of Valeria Garcia, the girl grew more and more confident in her body and role. She learned to turn her Slavic accent into a Spanish one and eventually began acting like a Latina prostitute the whole time, even when she was with her new friends. Her new mannerisms came natural to her now, slutty outfits were all she ever wanted to wear and even during her free time nobody would ever doubt she was a call girl. Her income grew as she fit more into her role, until one day she realised she was close to paying back all her debts. At that point she would have been free to pursue the career of her dreams but was that still what she was dreaming of?
Valeria looked at herself in the mirror and realised that there was no going back to a normal life. Even if she were to make it as an actress she could never hide the slutty attitude that was now second nature to her. She managed to get a fake Mexican birth certificate that would grand her at least a passport for the time being but if she were to became famous, her identity would get questioned and her shameful story would be all over the news. So Valeria preferred to stay in the shadow, alternating small parts as a porn actress and being a high class escort like she was supposed to. As for her new appearance, she had to admit that it turned out to a definite upgrade, being an exotic brunette was definitely more fun that being the boring, plain blonde girl like she was used to be. She eventually completely forgot her old identity and embraced being an Hispanic whore.
This is the story of Debbie, a young reporter specialised in gender-related social issues such as gender gap in wages, low literacy rates for women in developing countries, etc. She felt very passionately about topics involving feminist issues, so when she was told about the possibility to investigate the living conditions of women in difficult areas of Latin America she jumped on the opportunity. She was sent to the Dominican republic, where the general poverty of women was aggravated by the plague of prostitution, which many girls saw as the only way out from poverty. She talked to some of the girls and managed to reconstruct how the network to trick girls into prostitution with vague promises of a career as models or actresses worked. She had managed to film inside some brothels and to put together a brilliant piece of journalism documenting the living conditions of these girls when her activities were noticed by some local pimps. They reported the news to their boss, Diego, one of the most prominent men in the prostitution racket there, who feared possible connections between Debbie and the police. Realising how small her team was – basically herself and some technicians, he ordered his men to kidnap her.
They brought her to a hidden medical facility where her body was extensively remodelled. Her veins were flooded with melanin, to make her skin quickly darken. On top of that, they implanted into her body a few micro capsules that would release the same substance for her whole life, so that she would never have pale skin again, no matter how long she avoided the sun. Her hair would also start so grow darker now but to speed up the process, they eradicated her hair including the roots and transplanted on her head long, curly black hair. They permanently covered her irises in dark brown pigments and modified her facial features to give her an exotic look. Finally they gave her massive breast and butt implants, giving her a very curvy figure. When Debbie woke up, she suddenly realised something was off. Her nails were extremely long and her skin was tan, like really tan. “What’s wrong with my body… Oh shit, my breasts are huge!” Then the boss, Diego, entered the room to give Debbie some explanations. “I know this will be a bit shocking for you sweetie, but there is no need to panic, you’re alive and healthy right now. Calm down and listen to me now.”
“Son of a bitch, what did you do to me? This can’t be my hair! Ah shit, it hurts! Did you dye it?” “I’m afraid it will never grow blonde again, señorita! I ignore the science behind it, I pay those nerds enough to take care of that for me, but I’m pretty sure your hair follicles will only be able to grow hair as black as night. The same goes for your eyebrows and body hair, including down there, haha!” “But… why? – asked Debbie, shocked at the realisation that her body had been permanently altered – Why didn’t you just kill me?” “Kill? I’m a pious man, I always do anything I can to avoid getting that far to solve problems. You were about to reveal to an international audience the details of the structure of my business. I had to prevent that, so ve decided to destroy all your recordings and notes, to alter your appearance and to stage your murder with a burned body wearing your clothes and documents. We left there enough of your real hair for DNA samples in case they bothered to check. Anyway, I’ve read on the news they’ve already celebrated your funeral.” “Oh my God” Debbie said, covering her face with her brown hands. “Why did you give me this appearance?” – asked her, still struggling to accept her new appearance – “Well, I thought we could use a new girl and I have a personal preference for busty brunettes. Moreover, you are less noticeable now. Nobody will notice a new pretty Dominican girl in town. And don’t even think about reclaiming your old identity at the embassy or something like that, nobody will believe you. You’re just a pretty pair of tits, ok? Here’s your new ID btw”
Her new ID said: “Sofia Ramirez, 24 years old, native Dominican.” Debbie ran to the room that had been assigned to her to cry alone. When she felt better, she picked up the least revealing outfit she found in the closet and left her residence. She tried to be unnoticed but her outfit left little to the imagination. She noticed that her complexion and features matched perfectly those of the average local girls, so that the people who saw her had little doubts she was anything else than a Dominican escort girl. She reached the US embassy and demanded an appointment with the ambassador himself – she had talked to him a few weeks prior. Knowing that nobody would believe her story, she introduced herself as Sofia, an escort girl who wanted to get in touch with the team lead by the recently deceased American woman to help them collect more information about that story. Her colleagues would believe her and help her out, she thought. However, she was told that after what had happened, her agency had decided to drop any such projects and to send her colleagues to work on safer topics. Any contacts between her team and the Dominican republic were lost. Then Debbie panicked and told him the truth in tears, begging to be brought back to the USA, but it was too late. They had already registered her fake ID as Sofia Ramirez and her story seemed just a poor attempt to get a green card to the States.
After having failed another couple of desperate attempts, she was banned from the US embassy and, for what mattered, from the US altogether for having attempted to claim somebody else’s identity with little proofs, so she was left with little choice. As any other pretty Dominican girl with no money or connections, prostitution was the only way to get around. “It’s only temporary” – she told herself “until I figure out how to get out of here” She inevitably came back to the man who had turned her into a Latina girl and begged him to hire her in his brothels. She was hired with a few conditions. She could only speak Spanish from now on and only serve Dominican customers, to avoid any chance of meeting some old connection who might believe her story. A microphone was hidden in her earrings, so that they could always keep her under control. Reluctantly, Debbie agreed and so her new life as a Dominican escort girl began. Her Spanish was already pretty good for professional reasons but now, being forced to speak it all the time, she learned it like a native, even mastering the local dialect. With time, she began thinking in Spanish as that was the only language she spoke now, until her native English became pretty rusty, in a final blow to her and identity.
Nowadays she has given up any hope of escaping and has fully embraced her new identity as Sofia Ramirez. She’s became a lot better in bed and had come to enjoy her sessions with customers, making her really popular in her brothel. Sofia has a few recurring customers who really like her, sometimes she thinks she could settle down with one of them, preferably a decently wealthy one, who could buy her freedom from her boss and give her a new life as the housewife of a hunky Latino man. Despite all her past feminist views, she has come to accept that in the society she lives now, women play a more submissive role in society and if she wants to fit in she has to accept that. At that point, being a respected and free Dominican woman, although subordinated to her man is everything she can hope for. She still has flashbacks to her old life as a strong, independent woman living in the States but that seems so distant right now she had begun to see it more as a dream than as real life memories.
Laureen was a spoiled white American girl with a passion for travelling in underdeveloped countries as a travel blogger, without showing much respect for locals. She only did it to enjoy her time and to get more followers but never shower a real interest in the local cultures.
During a trip to Ethiopia, she went for a provate safari on a jeep with a professional driver. However, they accidentally took the wrong turn at some point and ended up in an unmapped area. The GPS couldn’t do much to help them as there were no signs on the map. After a while, her driver left for a quick exploration searching for any sign of the road they were on.
While Laureen was alone on the open jeep, some local tribesmen who had been observing the scene from the distance took the occasion to quickly run to the jeep from behind and kidnap her. She was so busy checking the pictures she took with her camera to realise what was happening until they had already got her.
A stocky very dark skinned tribesman named Kioko carried her on his shoulders.
She screamed a lot at first but quickly realised how hopeless her situation was. The driver was still far away and there wasn’t anybody else to help her there. Her best hope was to wait a few days until some rescue expedition would find her, maybe paying a ransom to the tribe. As soon as they arrived to a hut village, she was fed with some raw fruits and put to sleep with a herbal potion.
After Laureen fell asleep, the tribesmen dipped her blonde mane in a jet black natural ink made with some local seeds and covered her skin with a brownish mud. Together with the herbal potion they gave her this was going to produce some effects during the night.
When Laureen woke up, she realised they had somehow covered her in the mud so she quickly cleaned herself with some water left in her bottle. Then she checked her reflection in a mirror she always carried with herself in her backpack. To her shock, she found her complexion to have visibly shifted, making her look Latina. “WTF – she thought – what did they do to me? I’m so tanned, my hair is dark and my eyes… How did they make them dark brown?” She tried to wash it all off with the water left in her bottle but the pigment seemed to be there to stay.
She was particularly distressed by the loss of her baby blue eyes which were her most attractive feature and couldn’t tolerate seeing dull brown eyes in the mirror now.
She wasn’t only shocked by the change, she was also afraid they might not recognise her anymore if they were going to search for her.
She rushed out of her hut, demanding explanations but nobody paid attention to her.
When she found the man who dragged her there, she screamed and pointed at her hair and her eyes. Kioko laughed, summoned his henchmen and tied Laureen to a stone.
As soon as they extracted an urn containing more brown mud, she knew what was going to happen to her. The mud was darker this time, and instead of covering her hair with ink, they rolled locks of her black hair around metal bars heated on fire.
While all covered in mud they forced her to drink even more herbal potion.
After the ritual was completed they left her tied to the stone and left her there under the sun. Laureen eventually passed away from the hear and woke up in the evening, when they took her for a bath in a pond nearby. As soon as she saw her brown hands and felt her now curly hair she knew what they must had made to her this time but as soon as she was set free she nevertheless run to what now was her hut where she could assess the damage to her. The result exceeded her fears: not only her hair was kinky and her skin had a deep brown colour now, but her facial features had somehow been remodelled to make them more exotic. She was now a light-skinned black girl.
It was now clear to her that they were planning to make her one of the tribe.
Laureen tried her best not to give in to desperation and planned an escape. As soon as darkness came, she left the village with her backpack. Her now dark skin and hair made her even more invisible. However, after a few kilometres of wandering in the savannah under a full moon she realised she had no escape. What was better, being killed by wild animals or living like a tribeswoman until somebody hopefully found her? How would be her life though? After a long reflexion she realised she preferred to live. She slowly walked back to the village, where she arrived around dawn. By then, most of the inhabitants were already active and as they saw her coming, they started to scream, infuriated by her disappearance. As a punishment, Kioko tied her up again and gave her une last dose of the mud, now in a black pitch variant.
Meanwhile some tribeswomen started working on her hair. After a few hours, they washed her as usual, leaving her speechless and staring at her new dark brown skin. She could also see her dreadlocks in front of her hair.
What she couldn’t realise yet was how full her lips were and how deeply exotic her facial features were now.
As the days went on, Laureen, now Lawa, started to lose hope to ever be found as no rescue party showed up. In the meanwhile, she was truly becoming part of the tribe. She was forced to dress like them, to style her hair like them and even forced to wear increasingly big lip plates and to have some teeth removed until she looked just like any tribal girl looking for a husband. At that point, she was desperately aware that not even the most advanced surgery would have restored her to her original looks but was still hoping for a way out of her desperate situation.
Weeks later, a search party finally showed up with pictures of Laureen. When she saw them, she run as fast as she could towards them, half naked and making unintelligible sounds with her deformed mouth. They were visibly horrified by her appearance but tried nevertheless to hear what she was saying, not recognising the tribal dialect she was expressing herself in. After a while they gave up and, although distressed by her sounds and tears, left the village with no information at all about Laureen.
After seeing them leaving, she fixed her lip plate which had been displaced by her efforts and meekly returned to her new home. Lawa was here to stay.
2030, Andrea is a young but very skilled CIA agent employed for the ongoing “soft war” between the USA and China, soon to escalate to a fullblown conflict. Raised in a small town in the South, she ended up climbing the career ladder at CIA, to become a fully-fledged field agent at the young age of 25. She has been deployed on a mission in China to gather some information in a very risky mission. To keep her identity and role protected, she was given a fake one as a US ambassador to the PRC, very few people are actually aware of where she currently is and what her role is there. However, during the mission her cover as a US diplomat is eventually discovered by the enemies, and she gets cornered by local police forces. She does what she can to hold her position but eventually realises she can’t escape. They give her a chance to be safe by answering some questions, which sounds like a polished way to describe collaborating with them. Andrea feels deeply guilty but accepts, promising herself to hide the most classified information the knew. The Chinese agents escort her to a dungeon where she is kept prisoner. Andrea is well aware of the risks coming with her profession and is ready to face any situation with bravery and pride.
She proves to be a more difficult client than usual for her jailers, as after sharing some very general and irrelevant information, she refuses to further collaborate with them. After realising that is not going to talk easily, the jailers discuss about what is best to do and opt for a different strategy. They don’t make use of torture to get her to talk, and instead court her into joining them with benefits and promises of keeping her role as a double agent hidden from the States. They are apparently in desperate need of secret agents to infiltrate American intelligence agencies and Andrea is the perfect candidate for the job. Perfectly fluent in English and Chinese, with a deep knowledge of the American intelligence network, she can provide them useful information. She seriously considers it but loves her country too much to give up. She would end up being caught anyway, she tells herself, better to put on a brave face and resist. When faced with a “no”, the Chinese agents don’t lose their temper. Instead, they simply tell her “Then you leave us no choice. You’ll join us anyway, but at our conditions.” “What do you mean by that?”. As her jailers leave her room, she starts to wonder what did they mean by that. They can’t force her to actively cooperate with them by brute force, she would have countless ways to signal her true condition to her colleagues as soon as she’d be back in contact with them. Actually, her team is probably already actively working to rescue her as she was supposed to give them an update about her mission status hours ago – she tells herself to calm down a bit.
Soon after, the prison where Andrea is kept is filled with gas. As she feels she’s losing conscience she tries to hold on but with no avail. Soon afterwards then they drag her out of it and begin with the procedures. Thanks to their recent advances in genetic engineering, Chinese labs are now able to fully replace a person’s DNA, being able to select the desired characteristics. In her case, they want to make her appearance match that of an ethnically Chinese young woman. This procedure has the double advantage of making her unrecognisable by her old colleagues in case she tries to escape to contact the headquarters of American intelligence agencies and makes it easier for her to become a loyal Chinese subject. The process takes several months to have full effect but the results are flawless. The roots of her hair darken from natural blonde to a jet black colour, her irises slowly take a dark brown hue and even her skin cells take a slightly different coloration. At the same time, her face slowly morphs into that of a young East Asian woman, first the eyes, which develop the characteristic epicanthic fold, then her cheekbones change in a carefully engineered way, until nothing in her body resembles the original Andrea anymore. When the results are completed and the DNA replacement settled, the new Andrea is ready to wake up.
When Andrea wakes up, she is aware something serious must have happened to her. She barely remembers what happened in the last days before losing conscience, then it all comes back to her mind: being caught, resisting their offers and then feeling suddenly very sleepy. As soon as she regains full control over her heavily altered body, she notices her now dark hair. She rushes to the closest mirror in the room and what she sees confirms her biggest fears. These people have turned her into an Asian woman! There seems to be no trace of surgery, Andrea notices, shocked to the point of wondering wether she’s dreaming. Andrea nearly faints at the realisation of the enormity of what has done to her. Her identity has been stolen, and she couldn’t feel more violated. As soon as her jailers notice what’s happening they rush into the room to explain her what has been done to her. When she is told what has been done to her she realises her situation is even worse. Her genetic heritage itself has been altered to match her new origins, so not even a DNA test could proof her real identity. In fact, it would make things worse, conferring she is indeed a young Asian woman. Any attempt to return to her old life, job, community is forever gone. The gravity of her situation falls on her and she cries herself to sleep.
As weeks and months go, her new reality sinks in, first with despair, then with resignation. Andrea, who has been given the new name Lian, has been attending “cultural re-education” lessons for some time. She was already proficient in the language, now she’s also well versed in the culture and history of her new country. Seen from outside, she has apparently adapted to her new life as a loyal Chinese citizen, she’s bright and managed to distinguish herself in her studies. In fact, doesn’t have much of a choice and although broken inside she has to put on a brave face and do what she is told to. Even worse, when she’s told to, she has to join the army, even pretending to be willingly doing so to avoid raising suspicions. The high ranks are fully aware of her true identity so she is constantly monitored in case she tries anything suspicious. Anyhow, she knows very well that at this point she might risk being mistaken for a Chinese spy trying to infiltrate the US intelligence agencies even if she tried to. The “soft war” is soon going to escalate into a real conflict and Andrea will have to actively fight against her real country. Her fighting and linguistic skills are going to serve the cause of the PRC from now on.
My name is Kayla, I’m an American spy and I was sent on a mission to Russia. My goal was to uncover the vast network of corrupted oligarchs to understand which ones had ties with the government. The CIA needed me to get provide that information to NATO so that sanctions could be more effective. I had already been on a mission to Russia so I was fluent in the language and I had my connections there. I knew it was a dangerous mission but a positive outcome would certainly result in a promotion for me. I managed to develop connections with different oligarchs in competition with each other. Eventually, they carried some background checks on me and my cover as a journalist was blown. They revealed my true identity to the police, who started hunting me down. One day, I got caught in the airport’s parking lot as I was about to leave the country. I was encircled by several police officers. I made a desperate attempt to break free from the encirclement but I knew I has few chances. When I felt something piercing my leg I had lost. However, instead of an excruciating pain, I suddenly felt numb and sleepy. I had no idea why would the police use tranquillisers instead of normal bullets but I knew something was fishy. Did someone want to hold me captive?
I woke up in an unfamiliar room, comfortably resting on a comfortable bed. My heart started pounding. I immediately reached out for my gun but it wasn’t there. All my weapons and clothes had disappeared, replaced by black lace lingerie and a silky black nightgown. The bastards dressed me like a prostitute. Nobody seemed to be around for the time being. With no immediate dangers, I tried to calm down and understand the situation I was in. I had no idea why but apparently they had decided to spare me. I had no access to classified information nor was I very relevant within the CIA so I was pretty as a hostage. Anyway, a microchip implanted under my skin was constantly transmitting my location to CIA headquarters so I hoped they would eventually manage to rescue me if I didn’t manage to escape myself. I just had to gain some time. My outfit seemed to suggest that one of my enemies had decided to turn me into his concubine. I smiled. Maybe I could get away from this whole mess by seducing the right man to regain my freedom – I thought. It wouldn’t be the first time my sexual appeal helped me escape a difficult situation. I inspected my body. I felt a bit weak, but I seemed perfectly healthy and even clean. They even took the time to spray perfume on me. I found a pair of matching black stockings and put them on. It wasn’t much but that was as dressed as I could be. The room I was in was small and the furniture was essential but everything was clean.
I stepped out of the bed to explore the room but as soon as I tried standing up, I felt a sharp pain spreading from my soles to my calves. I started swearing. Those bastards had done something to me after all! I inspected my feet and calves under the stockings and noticed a barely noticeable surgical scar. Did they make me unable to stand? I desperately tried to stand up a few more times, to find out that I could actually manage as long as I was standing on my tiptoes. I noticed a pair of matching black high heels aside my bed and tried them on. I could now stand without any effort. The bastards had shortened my tendons to prevent me from walking on my bare feet or on flat shoes. I was forced to walk in high heels for the foreseeable future. I felt a mix of rage and humiliation. I tried walking around the room as fast as I could but strutting across it on my high heels was the best I could do. This obviously meant that running was out of the equation for me. Despite my toned physique, any attempt to run away from even the most out of shape of pursuers would be laughable. The view of my window gave me mixed feelings. It was a trafficked road of a rather large Russian city. In normal conditions, climbing down from the window and running away would be a piece of cake for me but even if I managed to climb down the wall, and with my weakened tendons even that could prove impossible, I could only slowly strut in high heels. Almost naked, to make it worse.
I groaned in frustration and turned away from the window. A grey-haired man in his early 50s entered the room. I knew him already, he was Ivan Sidorov, one of the wealthiest oligarchs in the country. He was behind all of this. “Why did you spare me?” – I asked him abruptly, in Russian. “My dear Kayla, beautiful women are my weakness. I liked you and I couldn’t stand that such a beautiful, sensual body was wasted on an American spy. I decided to give you a second chance at life. I’ll teach you how to be a good Russian woman.” I gulped. The psycho wanted to make me his trophy wife. “This means being feminine and submissive. And of course loyal. I’m sorry for your tendons but I couldn’t risk having you run away at the first chance. Also, wearing high heels all the time will make you feel more feminine. Same for your outfit.” “Do you expect me to surrender that easily?” – I asked, defiantly. “I like challenges. It will take some time to tame your rebel nature but we’ll eventually turn you into a soft, feminine creature”
I tried to resist him at first, but Ivan eventually managed to break my resistance. We had sex regularly. They hadn’t only altered my calves, somehow my whole muscle tone was much weaker than before. I wasn’t able to fight anymore and I felt completely overpowered by a man for the first time in my life, so I reluctantly accepted my position as his lover. I had to play along for the time being, hoping to find a way out of this madness or to be rescued. During my free time, I could do aerobics on a yoga mattress to keep my body slim and flexible, while power training was impossible with my weakened tendons. My diet was also studied to keep me slim and weak, mostly consisting of salads and smoothies. The only reading material I was provided with were Russian magazines about gossip, fashion and makeup trends. Obviously I had no access to the internet. As I seemed to became more docile, Ivan told me “You have been making progress, Kayla, but you still have a long way to go. Also, you’re beautiful, but my standards in women are very high. We need to touch up your appearance to be a real Russian beauty.” I started hyperventilating. “Please, don’t do this to me!” – I begged him. I could tolerate being held captive and even being his lover for a while but not surgeries altering my body.
I was terrified but I had no other options. He drove me to a plastic surgeon who gave me lip injections. My lips looked plump and fake and I had trouble pronouncing certain words correctly from that day on. Another procedure altered the pigmentation in my irises turning them from brown to green. Finally, an experimental procedure aimed at my scalp altered my hair follicles to make me a natural blonde. Extensions were applied to make my hair longer. I could barely recognise myself in the mirror. I couldn’t believe this had happened to me. I tried to convince myself it wasn’t too bad. Hopefully the lip filler would eventually be absorbed by my body and, as much I hated being a green-eyed blonde because it made me look like a doll, I could always dye my hair black and wear color contacts. Ivan, instead loved the changes “You look much better as a blonde! Hmm, those lips are going to make me really happy tonight!” I was his personal property and he could play with me like a doll. After a while he complained again: ”This is good but not enough, see, I love women with some meat on their bones!” I knew what would happen next. My flat chest was about to go. I had always liked it, as it made me more agile, so I could only hope the implants wouldn’t be too massive.
The next trip to the plastic surgeon gave me realistic-looking but large D-cups. I was given a new set of crop-tops and other revealing outfits to highlight my figure. “There is my girlfriend!” – Ivan said when he saw me. “You don’t look like a spy anymore, do you? You’ll be Alina from now on, my sweet girlfriend.” He was right. I looked like a wealthy man’s trophy wife. I still had no luck at finding a chance to escape and my rescuers were taking too long. Was the microchip still working? At least, I could now leave my prison. I was officially Ivan’s trophy girlfriend and I could live an almost normal life. He liked to parade me in public areas, sometimes we would go shopping together and he would always buy the most revealing outfits. A bunch of security guards were always following us so I still had no chance of escaping. I felt like everybody in his entourage knew who I really was, I could see it in their eyes. This made me feel even more embarrassed and ashamed of myself. While Ivan was busy at work, I sometimes waited for him in the lobby, chatting with his secretary Inessa, the classic blonde bimbo type he seemed to prefer. She was a airhead who always talked about her clothes and makeup. One day, she left early to pick up her kids from school. I was waiting for Ivan to take me home for yet another exhausting sex session when I noticed she had left her laptop switched on. My plan was working, I let him gain trust in me until an occasion would have presented!
I seized the opportunity and began tapping on her laptop. I cursed the fake nails I got at my latest forced salon trip for the noise they made and tried to be as quiet as possible. I used a VPN to avoid being tracked and logged on a CIA webpage we were instructed to use in cases of emergency. I explained my situation and they asked me to turn on the camera so that they could verify it was really me. My heart was pounding like crazy. The AI algorithm scanned my face and recognised me. In that moment, I heard Ivan’s steps approaching and quickly shut down the laptop. “What were you doing Alina?” “Nothing, Inessa has just left, I… I was just…” – I stammered, nervously playing with my hair. “You may look like a blonde bimbo but it’s still you on the inside, right? I might have underestimated your resistance. You probably tried to send a message to your friends, we need to act fast before they rescue you. Too bad, I liked that pretty face of yours!” “Please don’t disfigure me!” – I begged him, panicking. “I have a weak spot for beautiful women, I told you already. Your beauty is paramount for me, don’t worry about that!”
Harper was a successful American businesswoman, CEO of CRISPR Therapeutics, a biotech company able to implement groundbreaking processes able to access people’s DNA to cure genetic diseases. The applications were for the time being still limited to a few conditions but it the possibilities were countless. She has been described as an “Elisabeth Holmes who hadn’t cheated”, referring to the disgraced former self-made billionaire. One day, she was invited in China for a collaboration proposal. The Shanghai Ruijing Medical Aesthetic Clinic were offering an incredible amounts of money in exchange for access to her technology without entering in too much detail beforehand. When she got there, she discovered that they were planning to use her technology to improve plastic surgery by altering the genes accordingly. Some clinical tests has already been carried out, and the results were promising. However, finding the whole deal sketchy, Harper ejected the offer and prepared to go back to the States. However, on the day of her planned flight, her personal secretary didn’t show up nor pick up her calls. “I’m going to fire that lazy bum!” – she mumbled angrily. In that very moment, two Asian men entered her room and covered her mouth with a tissue imbibed with chloroformum.
At some point Harper woke up in an unknown bedroom, feeling quite weird, as if she had been sedated and some chemicals were still running through her veins. “What the hell was that?” – she mumbled, her voice unusually high-pitched. She cleared her throat and tried speaking again. Still the same, ultra-feminine, high-pitched voice. Before she could investigate this issue further, she noticed a strand of hair in front of her eyes. It was black. Unknown to her, her now almond-shaped eyes went wide, revealing their dark brown irises. She grabbed her hair with her hand, noticing how her skin had gotten paler and had acquired a yellowish hue. “What the…?” – she repeated, louder, turning around on the bed. Her whole body looked different. The pale, yellowish hue was everywhere on her skin and her once elongated, slim body was now significantly shorter. Her long, sexy legs were now pretty short. Her head itself felt different in her hands. Her now jet black hair styled in a short bob framed a very different face, from she could tell by touching it. Her nose was wider and flatter, her chin shorter and her eyes, for what she could tell, also had a very different shape from usual.
She spotted her reflection in a mirror hanging from the wall and her heart nearly skipped a beat. A beautiful Asian woman was staring back at her. Touching her unfamiliar face, the young woman realised what had happened: they had used her own technology to alter her own DNA to make her unrecognisable. While her company had developed that technology to cure genetic diseases, they wanted to combine it with pre-existing techniques to alter people’s appearance, even their ethnicity. Harper didn’t need a DNA test to be sure she now had the genes of an East Asian woman, probably Chinese. Her eyes were very dark, almost black, and had an exquisite almond shape. Her pointy nose, a mark of beauty for her whole life, was now much flatter and broader. Her whole face had a different shape, it was flatter and shorter, and her skin looked smoother, giving her a youthful look. All those changes couldn’t be the result of DNA changes alone, lots of ethnic cosmetic surgery had also been performed on her – she thought – but without the DNA alteration, her natural features might resurface somehow. Now, she was destined to look and to age like an ethnic Chinese woman for the rest of her life.
A laptop with limited internet access was present in the apartment. Scrolling on the internet, Harper stumbled upon a shocking revelation. She discovered that an impostor, impersonating her with the same technique that had turned her into a Chinese woman, had assumed her identity and, unbeknownst to her, sealed a monumental deal, granting the Chinese company unrestricted access to her company’s technological advancements. In fact, the two companies were now basically merged into a single entity, with herself, or to be more precise the woman impersonating her, in charge of everything. People were probably acclaiming her for having accomplished such a successful move, oblivious to the fact that the real Harper found herself trapped in the body of an anonymous Chinese woman somewhere within the mainland, a living testimony of the power of the technique, a mere lab rat in the hands of the Shanghai Ruijing Medical Aesthetic Clinic. Desperate to reach out, Harper futilely attempted several phone calls using her phone, which was still there, but her SIM card had been replaced with a Chinese one, so nobody was picking up her calls.
When she finally managed to convince one of her managers that she was indeed Harper by texting him reserved information only Harper and him were aware of, she called him. “What do you mean, this isn’t my voice? – she replied him, trying to lower her voice tone, while only sounding even weirder. – Listen, these people are out of their minds, they have altered my body and DNA with our technology and…” “I’m sorry, I have to stop you right there, the real Harper is standing in front of my eyes, she’s heading towards my desk. I have no idea how you managed to gain that classified information, but you clearly are not Harper Wilson.” “What?” A female voice picked up the call. She sounded exactly like Harper did when she was recorded, the transformed woman noticed, with horror. “Yue Zhang, I know exactly who you are and what you are trying to do. I might have revealed you too many details during our business dinner in Shanghai due to that liquor I drank but you should keep them for yourself.”
“I’m not Yue Zhang – the young woman cried at the top of her voice, making it sound even more high-pitched – I don’t know who you are but I should be there at your place!” “I’m glad you agree with me – the woman continued, undaunted – We shall remain in touch now that our two companies have merged but please keep some distance, I’m a CEO and you’re a secretary, after all!” Harper googled “Yue Zhang” and the company name. A page on the company website with a photo of a woman looking exactly like her appeared on her screen. This was her identity now. Harper gulped. If this wasn’t degrading enough, now she knew she would have to assume the identity of a Chinese secretary working for the company that had taken her business, her life and her own identity. Probably the secretary that had taken her own life, who now was a mere puppet in the hands of the Chinese company. “I’m… a secretary?” – she meekly asked. The DNA-related changes were not limited to her looks. They had also affected her personality. While she used to be assertive and dominant, she now felt submissive toward these people who had apparently so much power on her.
“Yes, never forget that, you’re a secretary, my dear Yue! Is everything clear now?” “But… I can’t be Yue Zhang, I’m not even Chinese!” – she replied, confused but dominated by the confidence of the voice of the woman talking to her. “Hmm, your passport says otherwise, and so does your DNA. As for your language skills, give it some time and you’ll get there. Your synapsis are still rearranging themselves but give it a few days and Chinese will replace English as your mother tongue. Good luck with convincing people otherwise!” “So… I’m stuck like this?” “Exactly! I’ve got stuff to do now, I’ll call you later!” The CEO-turned-secretary stared for a few minutes at her phone, still unable to fully accept the situation she was in. Was there really no way out for her? Why hadn’t they simply killed her? Did they want to humiliate her or what? Unable to answer all these questions, she turned around and looked at her own reflection in the mirror. The woman who talked to her, whoever she was, was right, nobody would believe who she really was.
“I guess this is me now…” – Harper, now Yue whispered to herself as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. As much as the whole thing still sounded incredible to her, her new reality was becoming more and more overwhelming. Her eyes, facial features, and skin bore a natural appearance, seamlessly aligned with her own DNA. These meticulously crafted cosmetic surgeries rendered any traces of alteration virtually undetectable. Chinese words danced in her mind, signaling the gradual assimilation of a language that would inevitably be soon overtaking her thoughts. With her new, submissive personality traits, the idea of being a humble secretary seemed safer to her than being a CEO, with all the risks annexed. And after all, she was lucky to have been turned into a beautiful Asian woman, with all the possibilities allowed by the groundbreaking technique. In fact, she believed she looked even better now than in her previous “鬼子” form, a term she used to refer to her former self in a self-deprecating manner. Yue stood up and began preparing herself for her first day of her new life. Her new work attire was already hanging in her closet, waiting for her to accept her new role.
In the depths of her transformed existence, Harper, now embracing her new identity as Yue, found a surprising sense of fulfillment. As she settled into her role as a Chinese secretary, the weight of her previous life as a CEO gradually faded away. She discovered a serene contentment in the simplicity of her daily tasks, finding joy in supporting and assisting others. Yue immersed herself in the vibrant Chinese culture that had become an integral part of her being. She embraced the language, the customs, and the rich traditions, each day growing more connected to her new surroundings. The once foreign words that had infiltrated her mind now flowed effortlessly from her lips, further cementing her transformation. Through her work at the Shanghai Ruijing Medical Aesthetic Clinic, Yue witnessed the transformative power of technology and its ability to enhance the lives of countless individuals. She witnessed the smiles of gratitude and newfound confidence in the faces of those who had undergone these life-changing procedures. Although her journey had been fraught with uncertainty and the loss of her former self, Yue realized that her new path had opened doors to experiences and connections she never could have fathomed. As she looked back at her reflection in the mirror, Yue saw not just a changed appearance but a new soul, filled with love and compassion. With newfound grace and inner peace, Yue embraced her journey as an ongoing exploration of self-discovery and personal growth. She was no longer Harper, the CEO of CRISPR Therapeutics, but Yue, the Chinese secretary whose spirit shone brightly within the walls of the clinic and whose smile made many patients fall for her. And as Yue stepped into each new day, she carried with her the wisdom and resilience earned through her remarkable odyssey, ready to embrace the endless possibilities that awaited her in this extraordinary chapter of her life.
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.
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.
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.
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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