Finally got around to reading this New York mag from last month. I actually really really liked this piece–it doesn’t take too much of a side on the ethics debate, but does bring up the important issues.
“But try to put yourself in my shoes. You’re perpetuating stereotypes that are hurtful, when you talk about ‘gooks’ or ‘chinks’ or when you act like all Asian girls like being with white men, it just isn’t true. It’s just a stereotype and it’s offensive.” She’s almost shouting at this point and it’s kinda funny. She’s downed almost half the second beer and the flush is definitely showing on her tan cheeks.
“Stereotypes exist for a reason, don’t they? I mean, no one would’ve invented the idea that all oriental women like white dicks if there wasn’t some truth to it, would they?”
“That’s so ignorant. And stop calling us ‘oriental’ please. It’s ‘Asian-American’.”
“But what if I’m talking about someone from China? They’re not ‘Asian-American.’ ”
“Fine, yes, if you’re talking about a Chinese person, call them Chinese or Asian, just stop saying ‘oriental.’ ‘Oriental’ is a carpet, not a person.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Truth be told, I actually thought “oriental” was the PC term, but I guess these people keep changing what they want to be called without telling the rest of us, just to keep everyone guessing. “Anyway, it wouldn’t be a stereotype if all ‘Asian-American’ bitches did not in fact love white cock. Like I said.”
A bit more lewd than what I normally go for on this Tumblr, but damn if this story isn’t all kinds of fucked up hot.
VoidGolem provided me with an original outline, and I’ve been going all in on it for the last couple of weeks.
It’s proving to be much more involved than planned, and I suck at self-editing anything longer than a couple of paragraphs.
If there are any readers out there that feel up to wading through my rough draft, send me a message and I’ll share the Google Doc link for viewing and commenting.
Note: This story is F2F bimbo/stepford transformation, with a heavy Asian stereotype. Most of what I have is set up, with hints of transformation and a short hypnosis scene near the end.
Warning: contains race play and forced/non-con transformation. There’s also some seriously questionable parallels to domestic violence.
Harold exhausted and distracted. The notes on the clipboard in front of him blurred and swam. He rubbed his eyes and tried to refocus.
It had been a long week. His wife had formally begun the divorce process. He had received the court summons in the mail yesterday. Until now, he had held out for a glimmer of hope that she would have a change of heart, come to her senses and try to make it work again. Now, she was moving to deny him custody of their 17 year old. He still couldn’t believe how quickly she had soured to him.
Be blinked away the cobwebs and began reading again, mouthing the words. Increased libido in the male mice. Passiveness in the females. Mice with brown spots turning totally dark. What the hell had these guys been up to?
The test results were ridiculous. Whatever their initial intention had been, there was no way this could be a successful trial run. He supposed that’s why they had called him in in the first place. He was there to clean up their mess, to try and salvage some practical application from this disaster of an experiment.
Of course, his wife was the more qualified one. They had both been postdocs together when they first met. She had long since transitioned out of the lab, but Gina had been unbelievably good with this sort of thing. In his darker moments, Harold wondered if she was the reason he had been able to get as far ahead in his career as he had. Her emotional support aside, Gina had been the first person he would go to whenever he became mired down in the testing process.
He shook his head. He was dwelling on her again. The fact he still had to go through the same motions every day, the same motions that he had once looked forward to every morning when he was still young and in love. When he would daydream about getting closer to the beautiful Asian girl in his University lab.
Harold was so distracted, he failed to notice one of the mice had squirmed its way off of the Lucite tray in front of him. It wasn’t until the rodent hit the floor, letting out an audible “squeak!”. He snapped out of it, ducking down quickly to scoop up the mouse, banging his elbow against the table. The whole thing rattled, shifting the tubes and canisters around.
Still bent over, smarting from the pain, Harold was at perfect level when the aerosol canister discharged.
She looks up at me, her skin flushed, her eyes glazed a bit, goosebumps on her bare skin, only her black panties still on her slim body. She stares at me for a moment, takes a step towards me, obviously undergoing some furious internal struggle, then take another step.
“Jake, listen. You’re so wrong. I want you to know, you offend me… with everything you say. You’re a racist, sexist pig. Fuck. I hate you, so much. Everything you stand for, you misogynist fucking pig, I… I hate you.”
She takes another step towards the bed.
“Tell me again… tell me what your friend said to that girl. Tell me what he said to her when she was… when she was sucking his white dick.”
weightoftheworld 