James sat in the chair in the lobby with his arm casually thrown over the seat next to him. His muscular hairy legs poked out of his body basketball shorts. His long lanky body exuded a calmness that comes only from extreme confidence. He stretched his short curly red hair as he watched Geraldine run from the office. Her bright hair was a bit messy and her posture was awkward, her arms were crossed across her chest like she was trying to hide her generous tits.
Shame she’s such a try hard about everything, James thought. Because she was super sexy. But there were other sexy girls who didn’t spend all day prattling about oppression.
James heard his name called from the loudspeaker. He glanced over at Peter who was sitting nervously.
“Don’t worry Pete” he said with a laugh. “I’ll calm her tits down with this!” James grabbed his genitals and laughed. Peter giggled politely.
He walked into the principals office. She was staring at him across her desk. Her face stern. She clicked her tongue.
“James. Do you know why you’re here?”
“Yeah,” he responded, rolling his eyes.
“Why?”
“You already know.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Fine. I called Emily Nguyen a gook in history class.”
“Why would you do that?” Hana pulled a camera from behind her desk and pointed it at James. The flash momentarily blinded him.
“I just thought it was a funny word. I didn’t mean no harm.”
“But someone like you who faces so many hateful names because of your ethnicity, you know how words can hurt.”
James was confused. He was white, right? His bangs fell into his vision and he swept his long black hair behind his ear. His hand was dark chocolate colored. His nails were painted bright pink. He gasped, noticing the weight on his chest as he looked down and saw two breasts hanging from his frame.
“What did you do to me?” He asked, frightened.
“Oh. Nothing Jamilla. Here see for yourself you’re the same as always.” Hana stood to hand her a mirror and towered over her. Jamilla wasn’t used to looking up to make eye contact. It made her feel small and unsafe. She carefully took the camera and examined herself. She was a pretty Indian girl with large brown eyes and a round face. Her puffy cheeks accentuated her femininity, as did her large lips. Jamilla examined the dress she was wearing, it hung to her mid-thighs and showed off her generous cleavage and hourglass figure. The fabric clung to her body in the groin area, highlighting the flatness where there had once been a penis.
“Run along, Jamilla. We can touch base in a few weeks and maybe if you’re good I’ll change you back.”
A confused and frightened Jamilla nodded and slunk from the room. This has to be a dream, she thought, feeling her body move awkwardly. She wanted to cry.
Hana smirked. A job well done.