Pages

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Thug Tales: C-Note

TONY

“Tony… what did it feel like?”

I turned to Kenny Wynand as I finished toweling myself dry by my locker.  The look in the youngest rookie’s sapphire eyes was all I needed to understand the question.

“Being Benjie?”

Wynand nodded. The baby cop had finished his steroid/HGF regimen and had bulked up considerably with the Four-One’s weight lifting program; thanks to the heavy-duty cardio workouts, he now sported a powerfully ripped and shredded physique as well.

“It was a complete power-trip, Kenny.  And you know what they say about power corrupting. Your sense of right and wrong goes out the window, your sex drive redlines…” I  paused. “… and when you’re not raping a whiteboy, you’re thinking about it or prowling for the next one. I changed back early ‘cause I knew that if I stayed Benjie any longer, I’d sink even lower than I had and never come back.”

“What do you mean?”

A look of deep sadness and shame crossed my face.  “You live in a completely different headspace, Kenny. The transformation is SO perfect, it doesn’t take long to make the jump from ‘I’m disguised as a black felon’ to ‘I AM a black felon’

There’s no more YOU – there’s only HIM – and the thug in the mirror is everything you want to be. There’s no consequences for doing terrible acts… I did some things as a muscle-brutha that I’ll never forgive myself for – I just have bear those marks on my soul.”

Wynand swallowed hard. “When Ray attacked me, I was terrified, but… but… I never felt that type of rush before – it was… I wanna do it too.”

Jeez... Charlie really did a number on this kid...

I grabbed him by his broad shoulders as my gaze bored into him. “You’re on very dangerous ground, Kenny… be careful of what you ask for…” I was glad to see the look of fear in the rookie’s eyes.

“I talked this over with Ronnie – he thinks I need to do this to get past the nightmares I'm still having...”

I shook my head. “You gotta get permission from Sarge…”

“O-Okay… will you come with me when I talk to him?”

* * *

ZACK

“I think I’ll be done by 3pm. Earlier if we don’t do any ink.” I had finished examining the rookie. His partner Ronnie Bearce and Tony McLaren had accompanied the young cop on the subway to my Brooklyn warehouse for his transformation into a black man.

The tow-headed Bearce pulled his partner into a hug. “I’ll see you…” He paused and grinned. “…well not exactly YOU in a little while, bud.” He finished up with a soft kiss and waved as he and the other patrolman left.

Once we were alone, I stroked my chin, making the inked muscles in my arm pop into obscene definition. “You sang professionally, Kenny?”

The patrolman looked surprised and nodded. A blush crept up from the hollow of his throat and soon spread to his face.

“I still practice, but not since I joined the NYPD. I had a place reserved at Julliard, but my dad was murdered right after I graduated high school. My mom died soon afterwards. The detectives were great in tracking down the perp and I felt I had to do something to honor his memory and stop that from happening to someone else, so I became a cop… but how’d you know? I've never told anyone at the Four-One – not even Ronnie.”

“I could feel the muscles in your throat when I was examining you. And there’s a certain contour of the neck of a vocalist. Would you sing something for me? I want to see how your voice should change.”

“Okay. You got any Whitney Houston instrumentals?”

It was my turn to look surprised. “Let me see what I can get on Amazon Prime.” I went to one of my  computers and began a search. "How about ‘Run to You’?

Wynand smiled. “That’ll work. Can I have a drink of warm water first?” I  left and returned with a glass. The young cop sipped the liquid and cleared his throat. I hit the “Play” button on the screen and the music started.
I know that when you look at me
There's so much that you just don't see
But if you would only take the time
I know in my heart you'd find
A guy who's scared sometimes
Who isn't always strong
Can't you see the hurt in me?
I feel so all alone
My mouth dropped open. Christ Almighty, he’s amazing...
I wanna run to you (oooh)
I wanna run to you (oooh)
Won't you hold me in your arms
And keep me safe from harm
I wanna run to you (oooh)
But if I come to you (oooh)
Tell me, will you stay or will you run away
Each day, each day I play the role
Of someone always in control
But at night I come home and turn the key
There's nobody there, no one cares for me
What's the sense of trying hard to find your dreams
Without someone to share it with
Tell me what does it mean?
I need you here
I need you here to wipe away my tears
To kiss away my fears
If you only knew how much...
I need you here
I need you here to wipe away my tears
To kiss away my fears
If you only knew how much...

Kenny’s voice faded as the music ended. I was stunned. “My God, you’ve got the voice of an angel! I think you sang that even better than she did!”

He blushed. “Thanks Zack. I only do it for me now, though…”

The gears were already turning in my head. “Let’s get you shaved smooth and start the process. You’re going to be one handsome black man when I get through with you…"

* * *

“Okay – only a few steps left, Kenny. Open wide for me and say ‘Ahhhhh…’ “ – the young officer complied and I sprayed the voice-altering compound down his throat. The transformation was nearly complete – Wynand now sported a velvet-smooth chocolate skin and a faint, razor-edged dark stubble covered his head with an even fainter stubble across his strong jawline. His deep blue eyes looked totally incongruous in his now brown-skinned face.

I then filled a small syringe with the colorless enhancer fluid and proceeded to inject the rookie’s upper and lower lips. Then I swabbed the inside of the patrolman’s nostrils with a thick, syrupy liquid.

“What’s that for?”

“It’s a combination adhesive and mild anesthetic. I’m going to put some semi-rigid tunnels in your nostrils to change the shape of your nose. We don’t want them popping out if you sneeze…” I noted with satisfaction that Wynand’s lips had begun to thicken considerably and provided a sensuous new fullness to his mouth. I inserted one tunnel and then the other and stepped back to examine my work.  Kenny’s lips had filled out completely and the now-widened nose was in perfect proportion to the rest of his converted features. Nose and lips now dominated the lower third of his face.

“You’re looking better and better, stud. Last steps are the contacts and some bling.” I removed the specially-tinted, deep brown lenses from their sterile packaging and slipped them into the rookie’s eyes. He blinked several times as he adjusted to them.

“Those are extended wear contact lenses – you can keep them in thirty days at a time if you want… but I always think it’s best to clean them once a week.”

Dark hands with lighter mocha-colored palms reached up to touch the newly enhanced facial features.

“I don’t even feel them in now… wow… how do I look?”

“Amazing…” A stunningly handsome and heavily muscled black gang-banger with intense dark eyes stared back at me. If I didn’t perform the transformation myself, I’d never know he used to be a white cop.

“Let’s add some final touches before you see yourself…” I handed him a some steel rings which he slid onto several fingers;  then I punched a pair of holes into his right earlobe and inserted two plain silver-steel hoops.

I helped the newly-minted black man out of the chair. “Did you decide on your new name?”

The bald head nodded. “Marcus Ashford.”

I grinned. “I like it. I’ll get the all the new ID and credit cards set up for you before you leave.”

“Hey, how come my voice doesn’t sound different? When Charlie and Tony got Changed, their voices got really deep.” The newly-thickened lips, however, had added a very subtle drawl his diction.

“I didn’t want to really do anything to it. It’s just slightly deeper. I did want to get rid that slight burr in your upper register when you sang. Which I did. You’ll have a solid clear tone through your entire range now."

The converted black man smiled. “Damn… thanks, Zack… I really appreciate it…”

“C’mon ‘Marcus’ -  time to see the new you.”

 * * *

MARCUS/KENNY

I was speechless.  It was a shock when Charlie (as Ray) and Tony (as Benjie) walked into the precinct, but I never expected that I would share in the same mind-blowing experience. It was terrifying to look in the mirror and see a completely different face looking back at you after twenty-two years; but at the same time it was incredibly thrilling. And erotic as hell.

I was a drop-dead handsome black man – and there was not a trace of my old self in the reflected image. There was absolutely no indication I had not been born an African male. The transformation was absolutely and terrifyingly perfect. My dark hands reached up to stroke my bald scalp and gently touch my thickened lips and widened nose. My fingers  reached up to trace the steel  hoops embedded in my right ear. My deep brown eyes crinkled as a brilliant white smile split my now-ethnic face.

“You’re awfully quiet, Marcus… “ Zack had his hands on his hips and was grinning.

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing… it’s amazing… I’m just like Ray and Benjie now… a muscle-brutha… Jeez... no one could even IMAGINE I wasn’t a real black guy…”

My entire physique seemed to be more cut and jacked wearing the darker skin, and I swear to God that my now deep-brown cock must have gotten longer and thicker. It  was surrounded by a red Oxballs cocksling that Zack had given me after he had finished with the skin dye. It was made of a very soft and stretchy material that pulled my package up and out while giving my balls a constant, gentle tug.  Looking at my new (and definitely improved) self  in the mirror, I was rigid and aching with lust and I grabbed my tool and started to stroke. After a few pulls, I felt my nuts churn and the orgasm of my existence thundered through me.

“Urrrgghhhh!” Silvery cum exploded out of my piss-slit and left a mass of my seed dribbling down the mirror. Even after that eruption I was still hard as a rock.

Zack cleared his throat. “Umm, you want to break in that tool of yours the right way?” He shucked down his shorts and stretched himself onto a workbench. His hairless pucker winked at me.  He looked over his shoulder. “Lube’s on the table.”


I grabbed the bottle and loped over to him. His eyes widened in surprise when I raised him up and pulled him into my arms. “First things first…” I gently stroked his face; our eyes met and I gave him a soft kiss. My thick lips trailed down his jawline and continued down his neck as my hands moved lower to stroke first his shoulders, then his flanks.

“Jesus…” Zack moaned; he was in Heaven. So was I. We continued to kiss and fondle each other for a while.

I was nuzzling his neck when I whispered to him. “Turn around, stud…” Once more, he stretched himself over the workbench. I covered my still-rigid shaft in a thick coat of lube and slowly entered the man beneath me.

I felt him tense and I stopped. “You okay, Zack? Am I hurting you?”

“Yes… No…  Sort of…  All of you guys are so damned BIG… just takes me a bit to get used to it… but don’t… don’t stop… Ahhhhhhhh”

I didn’t.  But I took it real slow. Finally, my cock was completely within him and I gently pumped myself within his velvet tightness.

“Oh damn… that feels soooo good…” I pulled out some and got a bit more vigorous in my efforts. Zack trembled in pleasure. “Marcus, you are one amazing fucker…” We were covered in a fine sheen of sweat as we both hurtled towards release.

I kissed his neck. “I had good teachers…”  I felt my balls churn once more and I had the second mind-blowing orgasm of the day. It seemed as if I had unloaded a bucket of cum into the man below me. Spent, I slumped over Zack and continued to kiss him. I reached down to grab his tool and stroked the rigid prong. Within moments, his breath caught in his throat as he spewed an equally prodigious amount of spunk onto the floor.

* * *

RONNIE

I arrived back at the warehouse around 3pm and didn’t have to wait long until I was buzzed back in. Zack met me at the door with a satisfied grin on his face.

“I take it that everything went well?”

He nodded. “That it did. I’m getting plenty of practice turning you guys into sexy black thugs.” My cock started to thicken and twitch as I imagined what I was going to see.

“What’s my partner’s new name?”

“Marcus Ashford… c’mon – he’s waiting for you…”

As we moved into the living area, I heard a familiar voice behind me clear his throat.

“Mmmm… that IS one hot-looking whiteboy, Zack … you think he’s up for some action with a muscle-brutha?”

I spun around and my jaw dropped in amazement. “Holy shit….”  Standing beside the doorway was an incredibly jacked African stud with a wide grin splitting his face. His almost-black eyes twinkled in amusement. His thumbs were hooked into the front pockets of a pair of well-worn jeans; black tribal swirls crawled up one arm onto a massive deltoid and an equally impressive cruciform adorned the other limb.  He then crossed both arms which brought the dieseled muscles beneath the dark skin into obscene definition.

“Swole enough for you?” He sauntered over to me and brought our bodies together. His thick, sensuous lips closed over mine and his hands gently cradled my head as his tongue slipped into my mouth.  My hands reached up to stroke his pate as well and I closed my eyes and reveled in the embrace.

We broke only when we had to come up for air. I stroked the ink on his arms. The newly-created black guy smiled. “Jeez… that feels so good…”

“How do YOU feel?” 

“Like a completely different man, Ronnie. Incredible. Confident. And horny as hell. He gave me another quick kiss and pulled me down a corridor.

* * *

We found ourselves in the dungeon used by Sarge for the regular baby cop initiations. Kenny -  no, ‘Marcus’ stripped off his jeans and jock; gripped by a bright red Cocksling, his black horsedick rapidly grew (at least to me) to a newly monstrous size. His eyes followed mine and he laughed.

"Looks amazing, doesn't it?"

My partner went over to a table and came back holding an eyeless leather hood and a small padlock.

“I want you to put this on me.”

I stared at the items in his hands. “I… I can’t do that. You know what happens when you get closed up… I won't put you through that.”

“I think I’m okay, Ronnie. Really. I don’t feel like I’m me – I mean ‘Kenny’ any more. Please put it on. If I freak out, you can pull it off.”

I pursed my lips. “Okay, lover.” I slipped the hood over his head and felt him tremble as I cinched it tight.

“You okay?”

He nodded. “Uh-huh. Keep going.” He handed me a small silver Master lock.

I slipped the padlock through the last pair of grommets on the mask and clicked it shut. Marcus reached back with a dark hand and fingered the lock. He let out a shuddering breath.

“Still okay?”

“Yeah…” He smiled through the opening in the mask that left just his mouth exposed. “Now, help me into the sling and lock me in.”

I guided him into hanging leather and then locked his wrists and ankles into the built-in restraints. I stood back for a moment, admiring the perfection of his dark body and the gleaming muscles twitching in anticipation of what was to come.

The eyeless face turned to me and grinned. “What are you waiting for, Ronnie? Strip and get your butt over here. I need you to plow my ass!”

I hastened to comply and I was soon as naked as my partner. I grabbed a bottle of lube and spread a thick amount onto my aching shaft. I gripped his dark thighs and slowly pushed myself into the velvet darkness beneath me.

“Ahhhhh…. That feels so good…” His hands clenched the chains as I started up a slow R&B rhythm in and out of his chute – just the way I knew he liked it. I was happy to see that THAT hadn’t changed as part of his transformation.

After a while of grinding myself into him, I felt my nuts clench and I threw my head back and groaned as a massive load of cum filled the new black man’s guts.  I was breathing heavily as a second spasm rocked though me and another load exploded from my body. My legs were trembling.

“Jeezus… you still okay, Ke…Marcus?”

A massive smile split the face covered by the leather hood and he laughed out loud. “I feel fucking awesome!! Wearing this hood is only making me HORNIER! I’m not afraid any more!”

I unlocked the restraints and helped him out of the sling. He pulled me into an embrace and his leather-enclosed visage rubbed against me. His thick lips crushed against mine and his tongue demanded entrance.

We continued to kiss for what seemed like an eternity when I felt Zack come up behind me. He was holding another leather mask and another padlock in his hands with a wicked smirk on his face.

“Turnabout is fair play, Ronnie.”

He pulled me out of my partner’s arms. “I’m putting an eyeless leather hood on Ronnie as well. Then you two can have even more fun on some rubber sheets.”

Zack slipped the mask over my head and darkness enveloped me. In addition to having no mouth opening, the mask had a built-in gag that slipped between my lips. I felt the mask tighten against my face as he cinched the laces and then tucked them up and into the back of the mask. I felt him fiddle with the grommets and heard the “CLICK” as a lock snapped shut and made my blindness permanent for as long as he decided to make it to last.

I reached out to find Marcus’ hand and gripped it tightly; Zack led us slowly to a large bed and eased both of us down onto the rubbery surface.  My hand found my partner’s chest and it traveled up to stroke around his thick lips. He gathered me into his arms and we leaned back onto the bed, stroking our bodies.  I felt something firm and cool pushed against to my back.

“I put a bottle of lube behind each of you… “ I could just picture his eyes twinkling with laughter. “Have fun…”

* * *

I woke to the smell of bacon.  And vision. We had spent the night together at Zack’s and sometime during that period he had removed our leather hoods. I was spooned into Marcus with his semi-rigid prong still embedded inside me and embraced in his powerful arms. I felt the slight susurrus of his breath across the side of my traps as his grip tightened around me.

“ ’Morning, sweetheart. I didn’t want to move and wake you up…” His lips trailed across the back of my neck and his dark hands caressed my pecs and trailed down the rifts and plateaus of my six-pack. I shivered in pleasure as his rough thumb brushed against my sensitive tip.

I stroked the dark chocolate arms holding me and yawned. “What time is it?”

“Around 6am. We have about two hours to get ready for duty.”

I felt him pull out of me and get off the bed; I rolled over to see him stretch. Damn, he looks even more erotic as a black man…

“Zack made us breakfast. Let’s get cleaned up and dressed.”

* * *

MARCUS

I really got a kick out of the dropped jaws and stunned looks when Ronnie and I entered the locker room at the precinct. At the rate Zack was going, every guy here was going to become a muscle-brutha sooner or later - and I felt bad for the first "real" black cop that actually would get posted to the Four-One – everyone would be wondering which white officer had been transformed this time.

It felt strange – but in a good way – replacing the name on my locker with “Ashford” and stripping down to nothing to show off my ink and Cocksling; my inhibitions had certainly loosened in becoming an African male and I reveled in the hungry kisses and randy fondling I was receiving from the other officers. I could feel the sexual tension in the room escalate as the other guys were amazed at another complete and undetectable transformation of a white cop into a black thug.

Tony and Charlie walked into the locker room about ten minutes after us. Tony gave me a big grin and a crushing hug. He stepped back to look at the entire transformed package. I also got an approving glance at the tats running down my arms.

“You look amazing …???”

“Marcus.”

“… Marcus. You call me if you need anything, all right? You feeling okay?”

I nodded. “Thanks, Tony. Thanks for everything. Yeah, I feel great. I found out I’m not claustrophobic anymore, either!” I paused. “At least not when I’m like this…”

Charlie had had a completely different reaction when he saw me. He looked stunned. And after the incident that went sideways in my apartment, I had to have some fun with him.

I quirked a dark eyebrow at the guy who started it all. “You’re lucky you’re a married man now, Charlie… or you couldn’t imagine the shit I’d be doing to you…” The cops present laughed.

Charlie chuckled as well. He pulled me into a strong embrace and then his gold-flecked blue eyes met mine. “What Tony said goes double for me… day or night, I’ll be wherever you need me, okay?”

A wide grin split my face. “Even if it’s buck naked in a dark alley and stretched over a dumpster?”

“Well, maybe except THAT…” The room roared with laughter.

At that moment, Sergeant Reardon came in. A quick grin flashed across his face and was quickly replaced by a harder and angrier mien. He glanced at the name now present on my locker door and then proceeded to slam me against the wall and pin me there with his powerful forearm across my throat.

“Alright Ashford, stop clowning around! While Wynand’s on special duty, I expect you to behave yourself and stop parading around naked like some dirt trade male hustler! Get those hoops out of your ear and get in uniform!” His other hand moved down to squeeze my package and I hissed with the sudden pain. Nevertheless, my cock got hard in a heartbeat from his rough behavior.

“Yes Sir. Sorry Sir.”

“And see me after your watch!” He let go and stalked away. Sarge paused – then turned around and gave me a wicked smirk. “Nice ink…”

* * *

I was fucked and fisted so hard I nearly blacked out. When I got to the Sarges’ office, I was ordered to strip. Sergeant Reardon, cuffed my hands behind my back and then slammed me face-down onto the desk and used my captive arms as a handle to piston his thick nine inches into me. After he flooded my guts with his spunk, Sergeant Namisato proceeded to re-cuff me so I was spread-eagled over a heavy table and then proceeded to force his hand -  then his forearm - up my chute. The pain was incredible – both men were way larger than Ray had been, but I wanted nothing more to prove to them I was capable of taking whatever they could dish out.

“I’m going to the shoulder, Marcus… you got any problem with that?” Sergeant Namisato squirted more J-lube into my ass and onto his arm.

“N-no, Sir…” My breath was ragged and the tears were streaming down my face from the agony of his invasion. But I refused to scream.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m doing it anyway…” I felt his hand deep inside me twist and burrow deeper; my assring burned and my guts cramped as they stretched wider to accommodate more and more of his arm. After what felt like an eternity, I felt the Asian sergeant’s heavy deltoid resting against my asscheeks. The pain had passed the point of agony and transformed into a perverse pleasure – I was riding an incredible high as I felt his fingers tickling something deep inside me.

“Congrats, Marcus… you took my entire arm – not a lot of guys can make that claim to fame…”

“T-thank you, Sir. I’m g-glad I was able to d-do it…”

My guts cramped again as he began his withdrawal and when his hand left my ass, I felt terrible a emptiness within me. I wonder if I’m gonna need a plug…

Sergeant Reardon kissed the top of my head. “Consider yourself Initiated, Marcus. I’ll send Ronnie in to clean you up and get you home. Have fun with the rest of the guys – you’re a full-fledged member of the Four One now…”

* * *
RONNIE

Over and above the physical transformation, Kenny also faced some mental changes in becoming a black man, but nothing like the radical mind-twisting that Tony McLaren experienced. I guess not having a partner converted in the same way at the same time was a major factor. However, it was strangely disquieting how quickly I thought of him as 'Marcus Ashford' and not as 'Kenny Wynand' any longer. I guess that was a testament to Zack's incredible transformation skills.

Zack's newest creation was more confident, more contented and definitely more horny – but that translated into actively checking out hot young guys and rubbing his crotch while we were on patrol – the thought of plotting an abduction and forcibly raping someone never crossed his mind – but that’s not to say if he got approached by a muscle-puppy for some fun he’d turn it down, however. He had no inclinations to do the home invasions that Ray performed either – Marcus was more than content being with me, or Tony or Sam – and enjoying slow, mutual lovemaking sessions that left everyone utterly spent but totally satisfied. He did spend a lot of time with Zack, though; but I got the distinct impression that it wasn't entirely sexual. The newly converted black man did sport a permanent semi hard-on that could (and would) go to an exquisitely painful and full-bore boner in zero to sixty at the drop of a hat.

And he definitely loved showing off. He wore his steel jewelry and leathers as often as he could, and followed the examples of the other converted muscle-bruthas in wearing a harness beneath his uniform shirt whenever he was on duty. Marcus wore his Cocksling 24/7 and I found that he enjoyed the fullness provided by a substantial buttplug as well. But overall, he was pretty much the same guy. Only black. And sexier.

All of that changed, however when I got a text from Zack:

Meet me at 308 East 77 St Manhattan
Tomorrow @ 8:00pm

* * *


I arrived about 15 minutes early and I had to check to see I had the right address. I did. But no Zack. It was a dry-cleaning store. And it was closed. But the major action was happening across the street. A brightly-lit night club was in full swing with a long line snaking down the street, limos dropping off people and photographers' flashes going off like small supernovas.

"You Ronnie?" I nodded. One of the security guys from the nightclub had walked over to me. He was easily six-foot-five and 250 pounds of solid muscle. The scary thing was that I hadn't seen or heard him approach - he moved like a shadow. My surprise got a knowing grin from the big man.

"Part of our training... Mr. Gauthier said you'd be here and to bring you in. He said, 'Look for a handsome blonde guy with eyes like a cop and a body like a porn star.' My name's Gary. C'mon."

I followed the security guy to the nightclub and was stared daggers by the people on line as I was whisked through a smaller doorway next to the main entrance. The two of us threaded our way around the back areas of the club until Gary knocked at a door and gestured me in.

Zack was with Marcus; my partner gave me a surprised grin and a strong hug. He was wearing a tight black schimmel top that showed off his powerful inked arms and slabbed pecs with a pair of faded blue jeans that were so tight they left nothing to the imagination. Just looking at him, I felt my tool thicken and slide down my leg. Zack was in a pair of snug linen trousers and a semi-sheer black shirt that did nothing to hide his tats and well-defined muscles. It was strange not to see him in his normal half-naked attire of only shorts and soccer shoes.

"Ronnie! What are you doing here?"

Zack answered for me. "Your partner should be here to see your debut, stud." He turned to me. "Marcus has one of the most amazing voices I've ever heard - we've been training for tonight's performance for several weeks. He's incredible."

Gary knocked on the door again. "You're up Mr. Ashford... break a leg!"

* * *

ZACK

"Remind me to fire you when we get back to Los Angeles." Eugene Carroll gave his assistant a dirty look as he cut into a well-done Porterhouse steak.

"Yes, boss." Diego Morel gave his superior a grin. This back-and-forth had repeated itself more times then either could count since the two had met eight years ago. "But now you can finally be snarky when listening to people..."

"Uh-huh... At least the food is good..." Carroll was the vice-president of A&M of Aria Records and he had just finished a tiring week in New York interviewing potential new artists for the record label.  Morel  had taken him to the nightclub and as it happened, it was Karaoke night. Many of the "contestants" had made him wince. "y'know... the management here knows they are raping people's ears when they have to put on a Whitney Houston recording to calm their nerves..."

Morel chuckled and looked down at the stage from their balcony seating. His eyes widened like saucers and reached across to grab the other man's sleeve.

"Boss, that's NOT a recording... look!"

Carroll followed the other man's gaze and dropped his fork. On the stage was an incredibly handsome black man belting out "One Moment in Time". He was heavily muscled with elaborate ink down both massive arms and his black cutoff shirt and jeans looked painted onto a body that could (and would) induce raging lust in men and women alike.
I broke my heart
Fought every gain
To taste the sweet
I face the pain
I rise and fall
Yet through it all
This much remains
I want one moment in time
When I'm more than I thought I could be
When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away
And the answers are all up to me

Good Lord... what a voice. Gene couldn't get over the man who was performing. He had everything - looks, presence, and a voice that only appeared once in a lifetime.
Give me one moment in time
When I'm racing with destiny
Then in that one moment of time
I will feel
I will feel eternity
I've lived to be
The very best
I want it all
No time for less
I've laid the plans
Now lay the chance
Here in my hands

"What do you think his range is?" Gene shook his head in amazement.

"My guess is at least an octave and a half - maybe two..." His assistant was mesmerized by the performance as well.
Give me one moment in time
When I'm more than I thought I could be
When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away
And the answers are all up to me
Give me one moment in time
When I'm racing with destiny
Then in that one moment of time
I will feel
The man paused to catch his breath, arched his back and then the power of his voice shook the stage.
I will feel eternity
You're a winner for a lifetime
If you seize that one moment in time
Make it shine...
As he hit and sustained the high notes for a breathtaking amount of time, Eugene and Diego exchanged delighted grins. "I think you found your next mega-star, boss..."
Give me one moment in time
When I'm more than I thought I could be
When all of my dreams are a heartbeat away
And the answers are all up to me

Give me one moment in time
When I'm racing with destiny
Then in that one moment of time
I will be
I will be
I will be free
I will be
I will be free
He finished the song and the club was completely silent - then the roars of approval broke like a tsunami. A wide grin split his features and he pumped his fist in approval. The roars grew louder, and a chant soon started and grew in volume and intensity.

"More! More! More!"

The young man spread his arms and the whistles and shouts increased. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat that made his body gleam like molten metal beneath the stage lights.
  
"You want me to do another song, folks?"

The crowd roared it's approval. He put up his hands for quiet and a hush soon descended onto the audience. He took a sip of bottled water and the music started again. The overhead projectors displayed the next song to be performed - 'Diamonds Are Forever'
Diamonds are forever,
They are all I need to please me,
They can stimulate and tease me,
They won't leave in the night,
I've no fear that they might desert me.
His voice took on a huskier and more darkly provocative tone; his body language moved from the merely suggestive to the downright wanton. His eyes and grin glittered with wickedly sensual promise. The two men watched as the crowd fell  under the spell cast by the performer. From the side of the stage, a large glittering object sailed through the air and the man caught it overhand with ease. It was a large Swarovski crystal shaped like a brilliant-cut diamond.
Diamonds are forever,
Hold one up and then caress it,
Touch it, stroke it and undress it,
The giant gem glittered as he held it aloft, and his scandalous smile had both men rigid and aching with lust.
I can see ev'ry part,
Nothing hides in the heart to hurt me.
I don't need love,
For what good will love do me?
Diamonds never lie to me,
For when love's gone,
They'll lustre on.
Again, the young man's voice and his exquisite control of it was nothing short of breathtaking.
Diamonds are forever,
Sparkling round my little finger.
Unlike men, the diamonds linger;
Men are mere mortals who
Are not worth going to your grave for.
I don't need love,
For what good will love do me?
Diamonds never lie to me,
For when love's gone,
They'll lustre on.
Diamonds are forever, forever, forever.
Diamonds are forever, forever, forever.
Forever and ever.
The crowd went wild. The man raised his hands and blew the crowd a kiss as he left the stage.

"His name is Marcus Ashford."

Diego and his boss literally jumped out of their skins when they heard my voice. My buddy got up from the table and gave me massive hug.

Gene's eyes narrowed. "You knew about this?"

The record executive shook his head. "Zack told me to come here tonight, but he didn't say why. Plus, he offered dinner on the house."

I put out my hand to James' boss. "Zack Gauthier. I own the club. I wanted to get your unvarnished opinion about him - I think he's got a lot of potential."

"You can say that again - he's fucking amazing... where'd you find him? Does he have a contract with anyone?"

"Umm - happy coincidence and no, not yet..." I watched Gene's eyes gleam as he saw the revenue pouring in. "Do you think Aria Records would be interested in signing him?"

"Perhaps... but you know we also have a considerable classical image to maintain..." He paused; Gene was a greedy sonofabitch and now wanted to negotiate. I was happy to counter.

"Hold on a moment." I pulled my cell out and whispered a short command.

Marcus reappeared on the stage. He had stripped off his shirt and his torso and tats glistened with a light coat of oil. The crowd exploded in cheers. He put up a hand and the audience fell silent.

He smiled. "I can't thank all of you enough for your response - this is something I've wanted to do for a long time... I guess you think I'm pretty good?"

More wolf whistles, claps and applause.

"I have one more song - sort of a request - would you folks mind? I don't want to hog the stage..."

The response was overwhelmingly positive. The sweet grin on his dark face was nothing short of dazzling.

"Wow... thank you... thank you all!" The lights dimmed and the new music started through the loudspeakers. Marcus gathered himself and then began.
Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!
Tu pure, o, Principessa,
nella tua fredda stanza,
guardi le stelle
che tremano d'amore
e di speranza.
"Holy shit..." Gene's mouth dropped open in shock. Diego stared at me and my lips quirked into a smug grin. I thought of that classic line from 'Mommy Dearest'  when Crawford is in the boardroom - "Don't fuck with me, fellas... this ain't my first time at the rodeo..."
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,
il nome mio nessun saprà!
No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò
quando la luce splenderà!
This wasn't the normal fare the crowd was accustomed to, but seeing Marcus perform a classical piece with the same incredible power and control after the two R&B hits had them stunned.
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio
che ti fa mia!

Il nome suo nessun saprà!...
e noi dovrem, ahime, morir!

Dilegua, o notte!
Tramontate, stelle!
Tramontate, stelle!
All'alba vincerò!
vincerò, vincerò!
Gene and Diego were on their feet with the rest of the crowd screaming their approval.

"When can I meet him?"

I grinned. "I'll bring him by tomorrow. 10 o'clock good for you?"

* * *

"974,426 views on one Youtube video .... 1,288,957 on the other...  899,773 on 'Nessun Dorma' - I'd say your performance went viral, stud..." Marcus had become an overnight sensation. There had even been segments on GMA and Fox and Friends about 'the new singing sensation' this morning.

He was stunned. The young white rookie (now a young black singer) had never expected this to happen. We just left the cab and were heading into the New York offices of Aria records. The two of us were alone in the elevator as it made it's way up to the 25th floor.

I put my hands on his powerful shoulders. "This is what your mom and dad wanted for you, wasn't it?"

He smiled. "I just never thought after they died I'd actually be able to perform, let alone get this response..."

"Would you have gone out on the stage if you were still the way you were? If you were still a white cop?"

The transformed black man gave me a measured look, then shook his head. "I'm a different person now - I couldn't have it done this without you, Zack ..." He pulled me into his arms and gently kissed me. "Oh Jesus, I owe you everything - thank you, thank you so much..." I felt a drop of moisture splash onto my neck.

The doors opened and we walked over to the receptionist.

* * *

GENE


"Son, you have amazing potential and Aria definitely wants to be the one to realize it for you. You have an incredible voice and from what I saw and heard last night, your range is fantastic as well." I  had seen the morning shows as well - the other big record companies were searching like mad to find and sign the black vocalist.

"Thank you, Sir." If he could have blushed, he would. The kid's attitude completely belied his appearance of a muscle-bound black thug - today, he was wearing an oatmeal-colored sweater that did nothing to hide the physique beneath it, but toned down the street attitude considerably.

"Stop calling me 'Sir', kid - you're making me feel old. Call me 'Gene' - okay?"

"It's just ... it's just everything is happening so fast, S- Gene..." He looked troubled and scared at the same time. 

"You're afraid you're not good enough?" The black man swallowed hard and nodded.

"Let me tell you something, Marcus... if you were a white guy..." He looked shocked and opened his mouth to speak. I held up my hand to stop him and at the same time, I noticed that Zack had put a death grip on his muscular thigh.

"... I could potentially see a few singles, maybe an album and that would be it. You'd be a flash in the pan and people would move onto the next interesting artist. Just like Josh Groban. In a year or so, you'd be hosting a talent show - IF you were lucky. But you're not - you are one incredibly handsome and talented young black man and that means you'll have a singing career for as long as you want it - and as deep and full as you're willing to go with it."

I stood up and walked over to him. "I want to make you a superstar, Marcus - and I will. Are you ready for that? Do we have a deal?" I put out my hand.

"I ... " He looked over to Zack. The other man gave him a thumbs up and a dazzling grin. "Don't worry, stud... go for it."

"...Yessir. Deal!" He clasped my hand and I winced. He had a grip like iron and he wasn't even trying to impress anyone.

Gauthier spoke up. "Marcus is going to be tied up for about two months. After that, we can concentrate on his new career. In the meanwhile, we can get all the details sorted out and the paperwork completed."

Zack turned to his discovery. "Would you mind if I talked privately with Gene for a moment?"

"Not at all. Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity, Mr. Carroll ... Gene..." I walked him to the door and closed it behind him. Then I turned to Zack.

"He's not into drugs or anything, is he?"

"Clean as a whistle." The dark-haired club owner had strolled over to the window and was looking out over the city.

"No trouble with the law? No convictions? No baby-mommas I need to pay off?"

He turned to me and smiled. "None whatsoever. Marcus is a very law-and-order type of guy. Complete and total Boy Scout. Very big NYPD supporter as well. HUGE. And no, no baby-mommas. He's... a one-man man..."

"Ahhh. I see... great news! We'll need to get the lawyers together for the contract - who's representing him?"

"I'm not sure yet. One of the senior partners from Heinrich and Hammer. Lucio said he'd talk to them this afternoon if this morning's meeting went well..."

My heart did a backflip into my throat. "L-Lucio? Lucio Giambi?"

Zack grinned. "Of course. In fact, Gene, we share the same boss; I work for him as well. Except I'm on the not-so-legal side of his business endeavors. I wasn't going to force you to sign Marcus - you had to come to that decision yourself, and I'm glad you did."

He headed towards the door. Then paused. "But let's make sure that he gets a generous cut of the gross as well, okay??"

* * *

MARCUS

The magnitude of what just happened hit me like a sledgehammer between the eyes. I was going to get signed to a major record label. As 'Marcus Ashford'. As a black man. 'Kenny Wynand' - the person I had been for the first twenty-two years of my life and the cop I had become - would cease to exist. My pulse was pounding when Zack left Gene's office.

"Zack, how are we going to pull this off? Sooner or later a contact is going to pop out by accident, or my prints are going to be taken and then everything is going to be fucked..." We were in the elevator on the way down; his thumbs stroked my brows and his strong hands cradled my face.

"I told you not to worry about anything, handsome - and I meant it. But the elevator isn't the place to talk about this stuff. Let's go back to my place in Brooklyn and we can lay out our plans."

* * *

ZACK

Ronnie was waiting for us when we got back to the warehouse. He saw the grins on our faces. "Good news?"

Marcus jumped into his partner's arms. "I'm getting signed by Aria Records!"

The two kissed hungrily. "That great! You're gonna be famous!"

"As Marcus Ashford. No record label isn't going to put its resources into a white vocalist. There's no money in it for them because the shelf life of a white performer is way too short."

We entered the kitchen and I motioned the two patrolmen to get comfortable as I got some champagne out of the refrigerator. I popped the cork and poured out three flutes of the pale liquid for us.

Our glasses clinked together. "To success!"

Ronnie took a sip. "What does that mean, Zack? Whenever the dye starts fading, Marky is gonna need to come back for a touch up? What happens if he's on tour or something?"

I twirled the stem of the flute between my fingers. "Good points, Ronnie. Kenny - you like being the way you are now, don't you?"

The converted black looked at his partner, then at me, and nodded. "I'm a new person, Zack. I'm more confident, happier - I'm not claustrophobic any more either - yeah, I do. I like it a lot. Being a black guy has let me become the man I always wanted to be."

"I can make the change permanent. When I get done, there would be no way to ever prove you weren't born as the man you are now."

Both cops' mouths dropped open in shock.

"First step is reversing the temporary process. I'd have to let everything settle back to normal for about four weeks... then there's the prep..."

"So I'd be a black guy for real and forever?" His voice was thoughtful.

"Yep. You'd be 'Marcus Ashford' from now on. I'd also change every electronic record to remove any trace of 'Kenny Wynand' as well. Plus build up a complete identity for you to slide into."

The blonde-haired cop grasped his partner's hands and stared into his dark brown eyes. "I swore to God after I let Ray attack you that night I'd never let anything happen to you again. If you want to do this, sweetheart, we'll do it together - if you'll have me..."

Marcus' eyes widened and he reached up to stroke Ronnie's face. "You'd do this - you'd become a black man for me? For good?" His voice was tinged in amazement.

His partner nodded. "I'd do anything for you, Marcus - you know that... I love you with every fiber of my being and every beat of my heart."

Ronnie turned to me. "What's the prep involve?"

I was flabbergasted by the turn of events. "Facial molds, hand molds, dental impressions... since you'd be starting from ground zero, there's no need for voice prints or tattoo placements...."

Ronnie nodded. "Let's get started then... anything we can do today?"

* * *
MARCUS

Zack couldn't get a lot done since we had to be at the precinct for second watch, but we did manage photos of my tats and hand and dental impressions for the both of us. When we got into the locker room, I was greeted with a round of cheers and applause - someone had also put a big cardboard star covered in tinfoil on my locker.

Sam Halloran loped over and gave me a hug. "God-damn, Marcus - you should have told us you had a voice like that ... it's amazing! TMZ.com has been trying to figure out who you are since 5am... and they're no closer than they were then! It's driving them N-U-T-S!!"

Wait till they find out I'm leaving the NYPD. I opened my locker and stripped off my street clothes and sneakers. Following that, I slipped the leather harness onto my chest and then pulled on my uniform shirt, pants and patrol boots. Ronnie did the same.  Then the two of us went looking for Sarge.

* * *
We found Seargeant Reardon in his office. He looked up and gave me a grin. "Well, well, well ... if it isn't the new singing sensation... did you get mobbed by paparazzi coming into the precinct?"

I laughed and shook my head. "Nah. But when we go out on patrol, I'm pulling my cap low and wearing sunglasses... then again, all of us black guys look alike - right, Sir?"

Reardon got up from his desk and put me into a playful side headhold. He gave a low chuckle as he knuckled my skull. Then my breath caught as he toyed with the cap of the butt plug through my uniform pants.

"Sir, can we - Ronnie and me - can we talk to you and Cap after watch? There's something important we need to tell you..."

He stood back and gave me a concerned look. "Morgan probably won't be here by then ... let's go see him now."

* * *

"So, it was an offer I couldn't turn down, Sir. This is what I've always wanted and this is what my parents wanted as well. I just didn't anticipate I'd be signing onto a top record label as a black man."

Cap had been quiet when I described the events after my debut performance in the nightclub. His emerald eyes pinned me to the floor as the words poured out of me.

He sighed. "Well, you - both of you - are going to be sorely missed - you are two of the finest officers I've ever had the privilege to command ... but it would be an absolute sin to let a talent like yours go unrealized. When would you be leaving? Is there anything Sergeant Reardon or I can do for you?"

"At least not for another eight weeks, sir. Zack said he has to let me recover completely from the temporary changes before he can start work on the permanent transformation."

Ronnie spoke up. "I think we're good, Sir. Thanks for the offer. We'll probably need help with the paperwork..."

Sarge looked at his watch. "Then you'd better get going - roll call is in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Captain."

* * *
I was back to myself - or nearly so - the following day. Zack had removed the dye and tats and I was already sporting dark fuzz on my head. The contacts were gone, as well as the nose plugs; my lips were still fuller than normal, but they would be going down over the next two weeks. I let the guys know what had happened at Aria and what Ronnie's and my plans were going to be in the future. A number of them were somewhat hurt by my - our - decision, but Tony and Charlie understood completely - then again, they were the only other cops (so far) to experience the Transformation first-hand.


"You never really devolved into a gangsta, did you, Kenny?" The four of us - me, Ronnie, Charlie and Tony - were sitting in one of the back booths in Martino's Coffee Shop. We had finished our watch and had headed over there for a quick dinner.  Martino’s is a 24-hour establishment – one of those greasy spoons that always pops up around a precinct; the food isn’t that great, but the servings are large and the prices are cheap. It had been two weeks since I made the announcement about leaving the NYPD.

I shook my head and chuckled. "It was strange - I thought of myself as a real black guy almost immediately, but I felt 'Marcus' was just the 'melanated' version of ME, if that makes sense..."

Charlie nodded. "I felt the 'real black guy' thing as well pretty fast, but I really did go the full thug route. I think the combination of how the sarges treated me during the Initiation and then all the criminal tableaus and arrests I had pushed me over the edge. To me, 'Charlie Hawke' and 'Ray-Ray Johnson' were two completely different people." He lowered his voice. "Tony and I did things as black men that would have gotten us arrested and sent up to Attica for twenty years or more... if they could ever be traced back to us."

My eyes widened at that disclosure. "I almost made the same decision as you. But not because I could become a performer - I stalked and raped several guys; then I sorta got involved in a human trafficking ring that nutted well-built frat boys and sold them to the highest bidder. I wanted to stay a muscle-brutha for the sheer criminal thrill of it - I wasn't a cop any more - I wasn't ME any more - I was a depraved felon and I loved every minute of it."

Tony nodded. "Charlie was already on the dark side when I got Converted and he was in the process of pulling me over as well. And he was very persuasive... I torched a building and got paid a wad of cash for it." His partner grinned and stroked his muscular thigh. "We raped a guy he kidnapped and then we went on a fuck-bender at the Greasetank. One of the slaves that got nutted was there and while I was plowing his ass I made the decision at that point to stay a black guy and become a felon for real too. Luckily for me, I had one of the worst nightmares of my life that night and it shook me so badly I saw the light and had Zack reverse the process the next day."

Charlie continued. "But you seemed to have avoided those issues - I don't think you're going to experience them now. Either of you. You getting inked?"

I nodded. "I have to. Can't have tats seen by millions of people and then have them vanish. I liked what Zack did for me - not overdone... sexy, but not edgy. Plus it shows off my guns to perfection."

Ronnie took a sip of his Coke. "I don't think I want any right now..." He grinned. "But I'm getting dreds!"

"WHAAAT??!!" The three of us looked at him in amazement.

"Yep. Zack has worked out this process - I'll get more info when the transformation is underway - but I'm getting a full head of braids and some facial hair to match."

I was still wearing my Cocksling and the thought of Ronnie as a black man looking like that had my prong slithering down the leg of my uniform.

"When is the big change gonna happen?"

"In two weeks we get the facial castings done. Zack is gonna use those to create our new looks. I don't know exactly how he's going to do it, though. After that, we get started. He said the permanent process takes longer - maybe two to three weeks for it to be fully completed."

* * *

The molds were complete and a week later, Zack called me and indicated everything was ready. With our hearts going like triphammers, Ronnie and I headed over to the Brooklyn warehouse to start our new lives. TMZ.com still had no information about who 'Marcus Ashford' actually was, but Gene had leaked the information that he had signed the black vocalist to the Aria label. THAT news went nuclear across the entertainment industry. When we got there, Zack and an Asian guy were present. Both of them were in nothing but shorts and sneakers. The Asian guy was slender, but well-muscled and gave us a bright smile.

"Guys, this is my buddy EJ. He's going to help out with some of the work that we're going to do. He's also a hypnotherapist. Your new histories have to be a solid part of you, and he's going to make sure that will happen without any slip ups."

"Hi Kenny... or should I call you 'Marcus'?" The Asian shook my hand. He had the most incredible sugar-brown eyes I had ever seen. "I saw your videos - what an amazing voice and presence you've got!" 

"Kenny, at this point - I'm not back to being 'Marcus' quite yet."

He turned to my partner. "And you've got to be Ronnie... Zack's told me a lot about you as well - it's a pleasure to meet you!"

"EJ's going to put you under. You ready?"

He looked at Ronnie and grinned. We had never been so ready in our lives. "Uh-huh." I smiled at the Asian. "Let's do it!"

EJ grinned. "Take a look at my watch, bud. You like it?"

I did. It was some high-end brand with a steel-and-gold bracelet. It had a sort of semi-open face and I could see the gears and movement inside. The overhead lighting made the gears and whatnot scintillate in a soothing rhythm.

"How are you feeling?"

My eyes blinked. "Good."


ZACK

"That's great. Go to sleep." Kenny's head dropped to his chest and the patrolman was asleep in his chair.

EJ stroked Wynand's muscular arm. "OK Kenny, I want you to remember a phrase for me. It's a very odd phrase. The phrase is 'Brobdinag of Barbeque'. This phrase is very special, because it is going to make you react and respond in certain ways. You with me so far?"

The policeman muttered. "Uh-huh..."

"Awesome. When you hear that special phrase and see me hold something I'll be telling you about, you will never respond to the name you were born with ever again or sign it on any piece of paper or check or anything else. The only name you will respond to is 'Marcus Ashford' or any of its variations. The only legal signature you will write will be 'Marcus Ashford' or any of it's variations as well."

EJ continued. "Now, I want you to open your eyes now and look at me."

Kenny apparently woke up. EJ held the personal history we had developed together over the past six weeks.

"These are the details of your new life. You are going to read and remember every fact that is written there. All of this information contained in these papers refers to YOU. You will recall details about the life of Kenny Wynand and retain all his capabilities and knowledge, but specific information will be like second-hand data of another person. Because Kenny Wynand IS another person. Kenny Wynand is not YOU

Any sexual relationships you had while you were previously transformed into Marcus Ashford you will remember as your own, however. After you finish reading through the pages, you will fall asleep again until I tap your hand three times. At that point, you will awake and will forget that I have given you these instructions. You will also forget that I hypnotized you - you will only remember that I'm here to help out Zack with your conversion.

You will never be able to speak about the process you went through in becoming a black man to anyone except for five people. Myself and Zack, Charlie Hawke and Tony McLaren, and your partner..."

The Asian turned to Ronnie. "Did you pick out your new name?"

He nodded. "Oliver Gibson."

EJ nodded. "...Oliver Gibson. When you hear me speak that special phrase and you see me hold up the ten of diamonds playing card, all of these directives will take effect. Lastly, these directives are permanent - they cannot be altered, removed or in any way rescinded by myself or anyone else. Do you agree to all of this Kenny?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I do."

EJ handed him the documentation and the patrolman started to read. After the second read-through of the substantial stack of papers, he once again dozed off.

Ronnie was also put under and given the same set of instructions. He read his own dossier and in a short time, both patrolmen were dozing in their chairs.

EJ tapped their hands three times and both were quickly awake again.

"Kenny, I'm going to do you first. With the actual inking, it's going to take probably most of the day. We can all rest up and then we can do Ronnie tomorrow... sounds good?"

The two nodded in agreement.

"Do you want to be completely smooth on top? After I shave you, I'd use a combination remover/follicle killer on so you'll never have to shave again."

He thought about it for a moment. "If you did that, can you make it look like I just shaved my head? Like a little bit of stubble?"

I nodded. "We'll do some micro-pigmentation on your scalp. Not a problem." He nodded his assent.

"Can you do it on my cock and balls too?  I like feeling smooth and it'd be great not to have to bother shaving my junk as well."

"Certainly."

I quickly buzzed the hair off his head and crotch and followed it up with shaving cream and razor. Then I put on the hair remover. I twisted a kitchen timer to thirty minutes. "OK bud, once this rings, go in and take a shower. Then we'll start up with changing your features."

* * *

Kenny emerged from the shower and came back into the main area. His head was shiny smooth, and his substantial package looked even larger without any obscuring hair.

"The next step is going to be remolding your features into Marcus' without using the plugs or any of the thickening injections." I flipped on a computer screen and the black singer's face rotated on the monitor. I grinned. "I've made some further enhancements so you'll be an even sexier-looking black man than before."

"How are you going to do that? Plastic surgery?" He looked a little concerned.

"Nope. I've developed a compound that creates something called "molecular plasticity" - it changes the way solid matter behaves for a very short time. Everything acts like it's made of clay. I'm going to clamp a mold on your face and when I take it off, you'll look like Marcus permanently."

I showed him the mold. It was composed of two pieces with several twist-clamps around the edges. There were two smaller molds for his hands as well. I pulled on a pair of latex gloves and opened up a container of the compound; it had the consistency of a thick gel. Then I spread in all over his face and neck. As the compound was absorbed, Kenny's skin took on a more waxy appearance and cadaverous hue.

EJ put the back part of the mold on the table. "OK, hop onto the table and lay your head in the mold. I'm going to put some tubes up your nose to reshape your nostrils and so you can breathe. Then I'll put the front section over your face. Zack and I will tighten and clamp the mold together. You're going to feel a little pressure, but that'll be about it. The process will take about ten minutes. We'll all be right here with you, so don't panic."

Kenny clambered up onto the table and laid his head into the back section. "Hey, it's soft!"

"Nope, it's made of fiberglass and plaster. It's your head that's soft now." I stared down at the mannequin-like face looking back at me and inserted the soft tubes in his nose then threaded them through the openings in the front section. "Here we go. Just relax, close your eyes, and breathe deeply."

I placed the front mold over his face and EJ started to twist the clamps shut. Ronnie held Kenny's hand as it was happening and he gripped it tightly. No panic attack, thank God. Kenny's chest rose and fell smoothly. After ten minutes, when we unscrewed the clamps and removed the front section; a new man looked back at us and sat up.

Kenny's skin had returned to it's normal healthy color, but the features were now that of Marcus Ashford. Compared to the original version of the black performer, his ears were slightly smaller than before; his cheekbones were a bit more prominent and his nose was a tiny bit flatter and broader as well. His eyes had a slightly more almond-shape and his lips had once again thickened to a sensual new fullness, dominating his whole lower face.

"How do I look?" Kenny (now a Caucasian version of Marcus) had re-developed the slight drawl from his altered features. He felt his face and grinned as his fingers once more found the meatier lips and wider, flatter nose.

"You look even more carnal than before!!!" EJ exclaimed.

* * *

We followed the same process for his fingerprints. After I wiped the compound onto the palms of his hands and fingertips, we placed his hands in the molds and cranked them tight. In a few minutes, Kenny's fingerprints had been obliterated and replaced with the those of the man he was soon to officially become.

Skin pigmentation came next. Again I did the spaces between his toes and his pucker by hand. His nose wrinkled at the strong odor of the dye I was using. I made a face. "Yeah, it stinks. This one needs four coats and then an activation coat to make it permanent. Sorry about that."

Next stop was the spray booth, Kenny got onto the platform, and after the five applications, the darkly sexual black singer that I had created emerged once more. For good this time. While I was putting the finishing touches on the soles of his feet, his dark hands toyed with his darker nips and he massaged his thick shaft and mushroom head. "God-damn, it feels so good to be black again..."

 "Lean your head back, Marcus. You need eyedrops." EJ pulled the lower lids down and put two drops into each eye.

"SHIT!!! That stuff burns!" The former patrolman tried to touch his eyes, but I grabbed his hands and pulled them away from his face. I handed him a tissue as tears rolled down his face. 

"That stuff is an eye dye. Keep your eyes closed and count to sixty. After five applications, your eyes will be as dark as they were with the contacts. They go in every fifteen minutes."

The mild pain served to soften his massive erection, so I handed him his pre-lubed Cocksling to place over his horsedick and heavy sac. He gratefully slipped it on and grinned. "Thanks, Zack. This makes me feel more like myself again."

Before we started on his tattoos, EJ and I needed a break. My stomach growled and EJ grinned.

"You hungry, Marcus?"

The black man smiled as well. "Starving. I didn't eat much this morning before I came over." Marcus's eyes had already started to change. His bright blue orbs were gone; they were now a muddy green.

* * *

Before dessert, I put another set of drops into Marcus's eyes. In a few minutes, his irises had darkened once more. They were now a light whiskey brown. That color looked great on him, but we needed to maintain the consistency of his appearance and go all the way to the almost-black he had had before.

After the meal, Marcus stroked his horsecock into a massive erection and gave Ronnie a wicked leer. The Cocksling served only to make his large endowment look even more massive. 

"You know, guys... I'm still hungry. There's still some appetites that I haven't satisfied..."

He reached over and stroked his partner's face, then gave him a soft kiss. "You up for some fun with a muscle-brutha, whiteboy?"

Ronnie stroked the black cock in front of him and licked his lips. "I thought you'd never ask..."

* * *

RONNIE

Marcus and I went into the workroom and he wasted no time in pulling my shorts down around my feet and the t-shirt off my torso. He stroked my shoulders and then his thick lips trailed softly across my jaw and neck. I kissed him hard and he returned the embrace with equal fervor. I pulled off my jock and they joined my shorts on the floor. My cock was hard and leaking as his dark hand trailed fingers around the shaft.

"Looks like that tool of yours needs some attention..."

The black man knelt in front of me and started licking my cock. His hands held my hips and his teeth gently scraped my dick as he laved the swollen head like an ice cream cone. Once I was thoroughly wet with his saliva, he swallowed my eight and a half inches whole and started a rhythm that had me trembling with lust. Faster and faster he worked my tool in and out of his mouth until I felt my nuts churn and I poured a load of cum down his throat. Just like an earthquake, I had several aftershocks from his ministrations and he managed to suck me dry. I was literally trembling by the he finished with me.

After he licked a bit of residue from the corner of his mouth, he stood up and turned me around. Marcus pushed me flat across a workbench.

"Hold on, whiteboy..." He kissed the back of my neck as he grabbed a bottle of lube and rubbed a generous amount on my pucker. I jumped as a rough finger entered me and rubbed an additional amount of the Gun-Oil up my chute. My partner chuckled. "Guess I won't be saying that after tomorrow..."

"Mmm... mmm... mmm... that muscle butt of yours looks soooo good to me..." He grabbed hold of my waist again, as he pushed his meaty cock into my ass.

Bit by bit, his thick shaft bored into my intestines until I felt his sac bump against my cheeks.

"Ahhhh.... you're so TIGHT, Ronnie. Feels like I've got a glove around my cock." He kissed my neck and shoulders again as he pulled out and then began pistoning in and out of me like a jackhammer. The initial pain was soon replaced by an immense feeling of pleasure as his massive, black meat split me open. I felt him speed up and he threw back his head and yelled as he filled my guts with his seed.

Totally spent, he laid on top of me with his cock still embedded in my ass. He reached out his arms and covered my hands that had been gripping the corners of the worktable with his own. He continued kissing my neck and ear as he kept gently grinding his hips against my cheeks.

A pink tongue licked the whorls of my ear. "You liked that, sweetheart?" He whispered. "There'll be plenty more of this horsefucking once we're both transformed into sexually voracious muscle-bruthas."

* * *

ZACK

I noticed Ronnie walking with a slight limp after he and Marcus had finished with each other. Both of them wore wide grins on their faces as I put in another set of drops into the black stud's eyes.

Tattoos were next on the agenda. I placed the stencil paper onto his arms and transferred the designs onto his dark flesh. We were replacing my drawn-on ink that had been on his arms with actual blackwork; EJ and I were above-average tattoo artists as well, so we each worked on an arm. In a short while, the outlines were complete.

"Your eyes are now a medium-dark brown, Marcus. One more application and we'll be done."

He grinned. "Great news, whiteboy..."

* * *

Once the edgings were done, it was time for another break. Our hands were stiff from the detail work and we needed to relax them a bit. I put the final set of drops in the black man's eyes.

"Lucky you don't have any cavities. All we need to change are your bite surfaces. Go into the bathroom and brush your teeth thoroughly and then rinse out with mouthwash."

The black man hopped off the table and padded into the bathroom. I hungrily watched the muscular mounds of his ass move as he walked away from me. Lord, I couldn't wait to feel that black horsecock up my ass again. And his partner's.

Once he got back, I used a small applicator to apply the plasticity compound to his teeth. For this application, I didn't wait for the change to take effect. I had Marcus put the dental molds into his mouth immediately. Then I had him bite down hard onto the molds.

Only a few more steps left. When I removed the molds, Kenny's teeth - like his fingerprints - had been replaced by those associated with the future superstar. Marcus's eyes now were now permanently a dark brown-black - the same color they had been with the contacts.


MARCUS

Zack handed me a mirror and I grinned in triumph. Marcus Ashford - the new, improved and permanent  version - smiled back at me. This time, there were no prosthetics or contacts that were changing the way I looked - a REAL black man was staring back at me with dark, brown-black eyes. After the dye job, I had put the silver rings back in my ear as well as my other steel jewelry; the metal glittered in the light as I admired the muscle-brutha reflection in the silvery surface.

"Goddamn... this is so perfect... I don't know how to thank you guys for doing this for me..."

Zack's face took on a more serious set. "We're not done yet Marcus. We've still got to fill in the tats, but the final two steps are going to be uncomfortable... really uncomfortable."

I turned to him with a quizzical look on my face.

"One, after I put the spray in your throat again, I'm going to have to put you under while I score your vocal cords to maintain your clearer upper register. You're going to have a nasty sore throat for a few days...."

"I can live with that. What the other thing?"

"As cops - even rookies - your DNA maps are spread throughout a number of law enforcement databases across the globe. The final step is going to blur your DNA so if it ever gets sampled or collected, you're going to register as a black man... and won't ever be connected back to the men you were. You'll get infected with a limited function retrovirus whose sole purpose is to alter your genetic code like I said. But you're going to feel like you've got the worse case of flu for about a week. Maybe a little more."

Ronnie now looked a little frightened. EJ spoke up. "You're both staying here with Zack and me until everything is completed... the retrovirus gives you fever, body aches, muscle soreness, sensitivity to light... that's because it's rewriting the code in every one of your cells. But once that's done, you actually feel even better than before. It also does some genetic embroidery as well, like giving you better intracellular energy processing, stronger immunity and arrest of the aging process."

"How do you know about that?"

EJ gave him a wry grin. "You don't actually think I was born Asian, do you?"

His mouth dropped open.

"You looked shocked, Ronnie. Did you believe Zack had this process limited to just changing white guys into sexy black men?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "I did, but I shouldn't have. Wow... that makes this transformation even more amazing..."

Zack rubbed his hands together. "Okay, let's finish up the tats. After I'm done with both of you, what do you two want to do first? Voice or DNA?"

We thought about it. "Let's do the voice first. That way, when we finish feeling like shit, we'll be ready to start fresh as genuine African studs."

* * *

ZACK

I had sprayed the mist down Marcus's throat to round out his voice and then EJ and I went back to work on filling in his tribals. Finally, we were done. I grinned over the slabbed ebon chest at EJ. These looked even better than before. "OK, stud - we're done for tonight. Ink's complete. You are one incredibly HOT and dangerous-looking black man."

"Thanks, Zack." His dark eyebrows lifted in pleasure and he grinned at the mellower timbre of his voice. He pushed himself into a sitting position and winced.  

 "Damn, I'm sore."

EJ chuckled. "You've been through a lot today. Just think, you walked in here this morning a white policeman... and now you're a hung black gang-banger covered in tats with a singing career about to take off - you've been under the needle for about four hours now. Want to see your new ink?"

"Sure thing!" He pushed himself off the table and loped over to the full length mirror.

"Jesus Christ..." He was thunderstruck as he took in the total transformation that EJ and I had completed. He had seen this performed on him before, but this time he had chosen to make it last forever.

I found I was holding my breath as well. A brutally handsome bald black man with a bit of darker-looking smooth stubble on his head admired himself in the mirror. His almost-black eyes slowly traveled down his powerfully built deep brown body and the steel jewelry on his fingers and in his ear glinted in the room's lighting, providing a complement to the smooth red Cocksling around his massive package. Dark fingers traveled over the new ink on his massive arms that was now a permanent part of him. He did a front double biceps and grinned as the muscles of his arms and chest burst into obscene definition. The tattoos only served to enhance the incredible muscularity of the black thug and he whistled in appreciation.

EJ looked at me and gave a small nod. "You like what you see, Marcus?"

"Oh, FUCK yeah... I look amazing... I'm a muscle-brutha for real...  now and forever..." He turned around and twisted to admire the dark V-shaped perfection of his back and ass in the mirror. Marcus massaged his thick horsecock within its slick and rubbery prison and watched in pleasure as it grew thicker and thicker.

The former patrolman was so happy he was literally bouncing on his naked feet. "Oh my Lord - I can't believe it! FUCK! I really AM Marcus Ashford now!"

Ronnie gathered him into his arms and gave him a deep kiss, which Marcus returned with even greater enthusiasm. His tongue slipped into his partner's mouth and started down his throat. They finally broke off when they were panting for air.

"Welcome back, Marcus... Welcome back!" God, how I missed this sweet black gorilla...

EJ cleared his throat. "Ummm.... I'll leave you guys for tonight... when would you like me here tomorrow, Zack?"

Marcus had moved behind Ronnie and pulled him into his embrace. His thick lips were kissing his partner's neck as his massive tool was pressed demandingly against his ass. His dark hands were stroking his body and Ronnie's cock was painfully erect in the flimsy jockstrap.

"I'll see you around 8 o'clock??... Thanks for all the help today EJ. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, thanks EJ..." Marcus was concentrating on rubbing his cock against his partner. His voice lowered. "Let's go upstairs, I wanna plow that muscle-cop ass of yours again so bad right now..." He then turned to me and gave me a salacious wink. "Then I wanna put my fist up that sweet butt of yours after I've loosened it all up..."

I grabbed his hand and the three of us bounded up the stairs to my bedroom.

* * *

RONNIE

EJ arrived as Zack was making breakfast and tossed a copy of the New York Post onto the kitchen table. "You're still causing quite a stir, Marcus..." The front page read:


"We'll have a press conference once you're over the retrovirus." He turned to me. "In the meantime, we should start getting you transformed. Finish your coffee and come into the workroom."

Zack had me strip and gave me a critical once-over. "All that blonde hair of  yours has got to go. I'll tint your eyelashes and eyebrows deep black, so they'll stay that way. Do you get a lot of hair on your chest?"

I shook my head. "Not since I started using the Crawford Cream - I still get some, but not a lot. Less and less every time I use it."

"Okay - I'm going to put the follicle killer over your whole body like I did with Marcus. But let's get rid of that hair first."

Zack checked my pits and pucker and motioned for me to sit in the modified barber’s chair; then he turned on the electric clippers. Clumps of hair landed on the floor and in a few moments, only a short stubble was left on my scalp.

"Be right back..." He left me in the chair and Marcus took the opportunity to knead my shoulders and run his thick lips across my shorn head. I shivered in pleasure.

A few moments later, Zack returned with a small bowl, some fine brushes and mascara wands. He patted a slightly oily liquid on my eyelids and below my eyes, and placed some barrier pads below my eyes as well. Then he proceeded to use the mascara brushes to stroke the lashes.

“Keep your eyes closed, stud. I’m going to brush the dye onto your eyebrows. We’ll be done in about twenty minutes, so just relax. Have you ever shaved your head before?”

“No, sir.”

I felt Marcus's rough fingertips stroke my forehead and smiled. “I’ll show you how, whiteboy… Zack, you got some Headblades and stuff in the bathroom?” My partner chuckled. "I'm not gonna be able to call you that after today, sweetheart..."

Gauthier nodded. “Yep. After you clean off the stubble, take a shower. Use the body and facial scrub to make sure your skin is well exfoliated to take the dye evenly.”

* * *

After the remnants of the hair dye had been gently washed from my face, we entered the industrial bathroom that was part of the warehouse complex. The two of us stood in front of some sinks and Marcus began to instruct me on how to use the equipment to shave my head.

“First off rub some hot water on your head. Squeeze about a half-dollar size of HeadSlick shaving cream on your palm and rub it around.”

“Next, take the Headblade and slip it onto your middle finger – blades forward and the little rollers in the back. Lay it on your head and starting from the front, do long strokes front to back. Don’t push it down, just make sure it’s always in contact with your head. And don’t let the blades get too clogged – keep rinsing them out.”

Marcus watched me as I cleaned the stubble from my head and nodded his approval.

“Rub the HeadSlick lather that’s on the back of your head up towards the top. Now, flip the Headblade around and do long strokes from the back of your head to the front. You can feel if you have any hair left as well as hear it – you always get that scraping sound when there’s any remaining.”

I continued shaving and he grinned as I finished and felt my silky scalp. He admired the completely smooth surface and beamed.

"First and last time you'll need to do that, 'Ollie' – now... regular shave on your face and neck. Take a shower and use the scrubs all over. Come out when you’re done."

* * *

Marcus whistled when I came out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around my trim waist. "Hey Zack - maybe we should just ink him  up with some Nazi tattoos and I can be seen going out with a skinhead!"

That remark got all of us laughing - more so when I clicked my heels together and did a Hitler salute... and the towel fell onto the floor.

The transformation artist turned to Marcus - "Okay stud, I want you to practice your singing and then work out for a few hours. You'll see your boyfriend when he's all done."

"But..." The newly minted black man was about to argue but Zack was having none of it. "Nope. No discussion. OUT!" He pointed to the door to the weight room.

"Yessir." Marcus' shoulder slumped a bit as he left the work area. Then Zack turned to me.

"You want to see what you're going to look like?"

I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head. "I'll wait until you're through, Zack. I think that'll make an even bigger impression."

He grinned. "Sounds good! Okay - let's get the follicle killer on you." He proceeded to slather the cream over my entire body. I felt a slight burning sensation as the chemical settled into my skin.

"That stays on for 30 minutes. Once we rinse it off, we can start remolding your features."

* * *
The cream Zack applied had tingled as it did it's work; the timer rang and EJ used a large, soft sponge to wipe the goo from my head. I then went into the showers again and washed the rest of it off my body. After I turned the water off, I saw what looked like little grains of whitish sand in the bottom of the stall. EJ explained those were my hair follicles. At this point - with the exception of my now-black brows and lashes - I was completely and permanently hairless. The only hair I'd ever have was what Zack would put onto (into?) me as part of my transformation.

"You're really an amazing guy, Ronnie. I can't think of anyone - Charlie included - that would do for their partner what you're doing for Marcus."

I blushed. "Marcus is all alone in the world, Zack. The death of his parents nearly destroyed him. I was a foster kid - my parents died when I was about four years old and I was shuffled from one family to another for my entire life. You develop a certain hardness in that situation. When we met in the Academy, it was like two pieces of a puzzle finally came together - now that we don't have the guys at the Four-One any longer, it's was even more important for us to be there for each other."

"All right... I'm going to put the plasticity compound on now. In a few minutes your head and face will assume the consistency of semi-soft clay. We've already laid out the head mold, so it'll be the same process for you as for Marcus. Put your head in the back half, we put tubes in your nose to reshape the nostrils and then the front half gets screwed down tight. Fifteen minutes later, the first step in becoming 'Oliver Gibson' will be complete."

It was definitely unsettling when the front half of the mold was put onto my face and I was enveloped by complete and utter darkness. As the mold tightened around me, I didn't feel any pain - rather, it was more like the sensation of pressing your nose against a pane of glass. I took slow, deep breaths through the nasal tubes and the feeling of pressure gradually eased until it was gone. A few minutes later, I heard the screws being loosened and the front of the mold was lifted off. I sat up to find both Zack and EJ staring at me intently.

"Wat's da matter? Do Ah look like Quasimodo o' sumpthin'?" My speech - unlike Marcus' - had developed a considerable drawl.


EJ laughed. "Nah, nothing like that. It's just that you look so incredible right now, I'm in shock." I could see his cock making a noticeable (and growing) bulge in his rowers.

Zack grinned. "Well, I spent a lot of time on the facial reconstruction. I wanted you to look sexy as hell... and it looks like I succeeded beyond my wildest expectations."

I reached up to feel my thickened lips and traced the contours of my nose - it was much wider than it had been. I chuckled - I wonder how Marcus is gonna react when everything's done...

That first step was the hardest. "Letz keep goin'! Ah cain't wait tah becumm a real black man!"

* * *
The next steps were far easier; changing the bite surfaces and shape of my teeth was as quick as the facial reconstruction but less unsettling, and the fingerprint change was just as simple - Zack also did something in the molds themselves so when I took out my hands, my fingertips were also slightly longer and thinner.

The dye job was completed without any major incidents - but around the third or fourth coat, I did feel a little light-headed, so Zack stopped for a bit and cleared the air out until I felt better. I now sported a very deep chocolate skin and every hard and hard-earned muscle on my body looked even more developed. I was darker than Marcus now (which was funny since he was originally the one with the more olive skintone) and the lighter mocha of my palms and soles of my feet were in perfect complement to the rest of my complexion.

I don't know if it was just the fact that I was black and completely hairless now, but my cock was HUGE. I was pretty well-endowed before, but I seemed to have grown both in length and girth as a result of my transformation. Zack had given me a black Oxballs Splitsling to slip over my equipment after he had applied the activation coat and everything had dried. This was similar to what Marcus wore, but my low-hangers were well-stretched and separated by a strip of the rubbery material which made them also look even larger and fuller and made me feel even more horny. The grippy material provided a gentle tug and had me in a constant semi-hard state of arousal. I could go from zero to raging lust in no time flat.

I found myself back in the modified barber's chair. EJ had pierced my ears and had inserted some silver-steel circular barbells. These slid into the newly created holes and were held in place by some little balls that he screwed into each end. When I asked about that particular choice, I was told that with the amount of hair I was going to have, these wouldn't get caught and potentially tear my earlobe.

"Okay, stud - open wide and say 'Ahhhh' ..." Zack sprayed some liquid down my throat that tasted like bubble-gum. "Don't talk for a bit - we need to give the compound a chance to work deepening your voice."

The inked artist washed his hands at the small sink on the counter. He turned around again with a small eyedrop bottle in his hand. "Next step is the eye dye. We have to put in five applications - one set every fifteen minutes. This is going to permanently change your hazel eyes to a dark brown-black. As a heads-up, this stuff burns. Lean your head back... You ready?"

I nodded.

Zack pulled down my lower lids and put a drop into each eye. Almost immediately, I felt an intense stinging sensation and I automatically raised my hand to touch my face. My creator grabbed my hand and pulled it away. "Keep  your eyes closed and count to sixty... I know it uncomfortable, but it's got to soak into your eyes and alter the melanin levels in your iris."

I screwed my eyes shut and did as I was told. At the sixty-five mark, I opened my eyes and EJ handed me a tissue. My eyes were tearing badly and I patted them dry.

"Head back again. The first two applications go right after each other..."

"Shee-it..." Wow... my voice was much deeper than before.

Zack chuckled at the surprised look on my face. "Yeah, the voice is definitely matching the look..." He put another set of the drops in my eyes; this time they didn't burn as much. After a minute, I looked at him and raised my eyebrows.

He nodded in approval. "Everything's working out fine, Ollie. Your eyes are a light whisky brown now. Three more applications and they'll be perfect." He looked at the red G-Shock on his wrist. "You want some juice to drink while we wait?"

* * *

Three more applications and an hour later, Zack indicated that my eyes were a deep brown - almost onyx - and the only thing left was the addition of the hair to complete my transformation into the black man he envisioned. Since the dyeing of my skin, my sex drive had been increasing exponentially. Now it was redlining and I had to do something about it. I needed to BREED.

EJ looked down at my thickly erect prong that was weeping pre-cum onto the concrete flooring. He arched an eyebrow and motioned me to follow him.

"Ollie and I will be back in a little while, Zack..."

* * *

EJ and I went into the workroom and I wasted no time in pulling his shorts down around his feet. He stroked my shoulders and then his lips trailed softly across my jaw and neck. I kissed him hard and he returned the embrace with equal fervor. I pulled off his jock and they joined his shorts on the floor. I pushed the Asian flat across a workbench and gave his ass a slap.

"Hold on, China-boy..." I kissed the back of his neck as I grabbed a bottle of lube and rubbed a generous amount on his pucker. He jumped as a rough finger entered him and I rubbed an additional amount of the Gun-Oil up into EJ's chute.

"Dayumm... dat bubble butt ov yo's looks soooo good tah me..." I grabbed hold of his waist again, as I rammed my thick cock into his ass.

From his gasp and stifled yell, I could tell it hurt. A lot. Like the rest of the transformed cops, I was huge and my guess was he wasn't used to taking such massive dicks up his tunnel. I liked doing it rough and my thick shaft bored into his intestines until I felt my stretched balls thump against his cheeks.

"Ahhhh.... you so TIGHT, EJ. You feel so fuckin' good..." I pulled out and then began pistoning in and out of Zack's assistant like a jackhammer. His initial pain was soon replaced by an immense feeling of pleasure as my thick, black meat split him open and he moaned in pleasure. I sped up and threw back my head and yelled as I filled his guts with a copious amount of my seed.

Spent, I laid on top of him with my cock still embedded deeply in his ass. I reached out my arms and covered his white-knuckled hands that had been gripping the corners of the worktable with my own. I continued kissing his neck and ear as I gently ground my hips against his asscheeks.

A pink tongue licked the whorls of his ear. "You liked dat, EJ?" I whispered. "D'ere'll be plenty mo' ov dat wiff me an' Marcus once we're finished." I realized I had repeated almost verbatim what Marcus had said to me during his own transformation.

His own cock was hard and leaking as well as my dark hand trailed fingers around the shaft.

"Looks like dat tool ov yo's needz summ attenshun..."

I kept rubbing the tip of his shaft until he caught his breath; I turned him around to kneel in front of him and started licking his cock.

My hands held his hips and my teeth gently scraped his dick as I laved the swollen head like an ice cream cone. Once he was thoroughly wet with my saliva, I swallowed his seven inches whole and started a rhythm that had him trembling with lust.

Faster and faster I worked his tool in and out of my throat until I felt his nuts churn and he poured a load of cum down my throat. Just like an earthquake, he had several aftershocks from my ministrations and I managed to suck him dry. He was literally shaking by the time I finished with him and he collapsed into my arms.

* * *
EJ was walking with a decided limp when we came back into Zack's main workroom. My creator arched a dark eyebrow and gave both of us a knowing smirk. I noticed that there was several pieces of hair - 'stache, chin hair and some long stippled sections with sharply defined edges. All of them were embedded in a clear pink gel. On the counter, my dreds were on a headform.

"Wow..." First of all, they were long. Really long. They were of medium width and I could tell that density-wise, I was going to have a nice thick head of hair as well. Some of the locks had some ornaments embedded in them; fingering what was going to soon be a permanent part of me had my cock growing rigid once more in its rubbery prison. I could see that there was also the same clear pink gel base on the dreds as well.

"How are you goin' tah attach d'ese?" I could just imagine my 'stache falling off in the middle of something important.

"All of the hair you see here is composed of semi-organic nanofilaments - we're going to attach these magnetically."

"Huh??"

He motioned me into the chair and proceeded to spread a smooth blue gel onto my head and on my face.

"What I'm massaging into your skin right now is a polarized electro-condusive compound. This stuff is going to sink into the pores of your skin where the follicles used to be. The ends of the hairs are coated in a similar compound with the opposite polarity. Once I get them placed properly on your head and face - that's what the pink gelatine base is for - we're going to apply a very low voltage current through your body. That is going to basically suck the hairs down into the follicular spaces. At a slightly higher voltage, the ends are specially designed to expand like a porcupine quill so they lock in place and won't come out."

"Damn... dat's amazin'! "

He grinned. "I can't take all the credit for this though - a lot of the basic research came from a hush-hush Army research facility. I'm going to be marketing this commercially - it's going to make a mint! No one needs to have thinning hair or be bald any longer if they don't want to be. You ready?"

I gave him a big, white smile. "Oh hell, yeah! Let's go!"

Zack applied the stache first. This was a thin, razor-cut style that was placed directly above my upper lip. The next piece was a short, well-shaped patch that covered my chin; it had two thin arms that met the legs of the stache on either side of my mouth. The pink gel was amazing - it adhered perfectly to my face. Zack had me smile, frown and open my mouth wide - everything stayed in place.

My dreds came next. The transformation artist flipped the artificial hairpiece inside-out. He started at my forehead and slowly and gently stretched and pressed it into place. There were a few adjustments near my temples that required him to pull it off and redo his work, but inch by inch, my new thick hair completely covered my scalp. When he reached the back of my head, he gave it a final tug and smoothed it onto my neck. The final items were the thin pieces stretching from the sides of my head and across the edge of my jaw giving me sideburns and a well-trimmed stubble.

EJ gave a low whistle. "You are one incredibly HOT black man, Oliver!" I grinned and fondled my horsedick which had (again) grown painfully erect during the process.

"Final steps, stud..." Zack handed me two metal cylinders with attached wires and I gripped one in each hand. Each cylinder had an elastic band that he slipped over my knuckles to prevent me from dropping them. "... time for the attachment."

"Wat's da voltage you gonna be usin'?"

"Nine volts for the initial insertion and a twelve-volt burst to activate the nano-anchoring fins. Here we go." He flipped a switch.

I felt a low tingle spread throughout my body and at the same time, I felt all the hair he had placed on my face and head begin to itch. Also, I could actually feel the hairs burrowing into my skin. It didn't hurt, but it felt very, very strange.

"How long duz dis take?"

"About ten minutes. You feel itchy?"

"Ah do. Ah feel da hairs drawin' inta mah skin now."

The burrowing feeling stopped after ten minutes. "Okay Ollie, final step. I'm going to give you the twelve-volt burst... NOW."

"YEOW!!!" I felt a short, sharp pain in every hair on my face and head. Zack shut off the machine and gave me two thumbs up.

"Done! You are one effing handsome and primally sexual black stud! Let me clean off the gel and then you can take a look at the new you!" EJ and Zack sponged my face and head with hot water; as they wrung the sponges out, the water turned pink with the dissolved gel. Finally, the process was completed. I could actually feel the cool air of the warehouse circulating across the bare skin between the hair on my face and scalp.

Zack gave me a wink. "Mirror's around the corner Ollie... go ahead..." I got up to see the completed transformation. He draped a string of beads around my neck and pulled my hair back out of the way.


* * *
"Oh mah God..." I stared dumbfounded at the reflection of the man I had become. Zack hadn't been kidding about being a 'primally sexual black stud' - I was... and then some.

My dark chocolate hands reached up to touch my widened nose and thicker, more sensually full lips. My lengthened fingers stroked the hair that Zack had affixed to my face - it felt completely natural and enhanced the powerful sexual image I now projected. My intense brown-black eyes had gained a more almond shape, and the circular barbells in my smaller ears gleamed in the overhead lighting. Every muscle in my body looked more ripped and shredded in the dark skin and my teeth also appeared to be larger and far whiter when I gave myself a wicked smirk.

And the hair on my head... the thick dreds draped over my shoulders and served to only accentuate the powerful African body that was now mine. I stroked my scalp between the rows of the hair and pulled it back with both hands to admire the thick mane even more.

"Dis iz absolutely a-mazin'..." My deeper voice was the perfect complement to the Nubian sex-machine I had been transformed into. I did a front double-biceps and watched my chest and arms pop into obscene definition; I spun around to admire my back and my deep brown ass as well. The dreds only served to highlight the muscles; not obscure them. My thick horsecock was dripping pre-cum onto the floor and I couldn't contain myself any longer. My right hand gripped the thick, dark shaft and I began to stroke myself towards release. It didn't take long; after a few pulls, I splattered the mirror with boatloads of cum. "Whew..." I leaned against the mirror, and I reveled in the self-stroking my hair was doing against my back - I was getting hard again already.

EJ tossed me a pair of sunglasses. "Let's go find your lover - I think he's outside on the patio."

* * *

MARCUS

I spent about two hours doing my vocal exercises and singing; the slight changes Zack had made to my voice really rounded out my tones and all the cardio and weight work from the Four-One gave me the lung capacity to hit and sustain any melodies I chose. Zack's mini-recording studio was really well laid out - I did a cover of "Vincero, Perdero" and I have to say without boasting that I could now definitely give Mario Frangoulis a run for his money.

After that, I hit the weight room. Ronnie and I had turned in our papers earlier in the week, so we were now "officially" unemployed and it felt strange not getting up and going to the precinct every day. I had worked out my legs yesterday and I decided to do upper body - my guns had been a bit sore from the inking, but today they felt fine.


As I slid the plates on the bar, my mind kept circling back to what my lover would look like when Zack completed his transformation into a black man. My horsedick (wearing the Cocksling felt so good that I had it on 24/7 now) grew and twitched in my shorts. I worked up a sweat as did several sets of chest presses and then proceeded on the circuit to do my shoulders and back.


After completing a couple of circuits, I stopped to check my reflection. Damn, I looked incredible. Every muscle was in perfect definition and straining the smooth dark skin like sharks circling beneath a calm sea. I slipped my hand into my shorts and played with my package until I was completely hard and aching. I wish Ronnie were here right now... It was such a turnon to fondle myself in front of a mirror - that was a major side effect of becoming an African male - an irresistible urge to show off both my body and substantial manhood. I gave myself a wink and a happy grin. I love being a black guy. Then I headed into the showers.

* * *

After a long cool shower, I pulled on a clean pair of shorts and headed  out to the back patio and stretched into a lounge chair. I was sore from the intense workout and still anxious about Ronnie. At this time of day, the high retaining wall created a curtain of open shade and soon after, I drifted off to sleep.

I had several strange dreams, most of which I forgot. One, however, was intense and frighteningly detailed. In that dream, every cop in the NYPD (including Cap) had signed up to be transformed into a black thug. A long blue line formed outside of Zack's warehouse and as each person entered, they stripped naked, threw their uniform into a dumpster and were sprayed with a thick, dark brown syrupy foam that covered them from head to toe. They then climbed naked into the back half of a man-sized full-body mold. The matching front half descended and with a THUNK, mated with it's partner.

There was a hiss of hydraulics as the pressure increased between the two halves of the mold as it reshaped the occupant and then an alarm sounded. The two pieces hissed apart and a young, tall, powerfully muscled hairless African man (everyone had thick black eyebrows and eyelashes, though) with a rapidly thickening horsedick sat up and hopped out of the mold.

Each newly transformed Nubian grabbed a thick, hinged steel cockring from a table and locked it onto his considerable endowment and then grabbed his ankles for his predecessor to ram a massive metal buttplug up his chute. Each black stud then proceeded to a large open area to shrug into a snug leather chest harness (with a NYPD shield in the middle), a leather jockstrap (with a blue stripe down the centerline)  and a pair of slouchy white sox and well-shined 8-inch paratrooper boots. This was followed by fastening on a full duty belt that rode low over trim, dark hips. Singly or in twos and threes, the nearly-naked converted black policemen headed down a hall through a door to the outside. The process continued over and over as the line stretched out as far as the eye could see.

That dream left me gasping for breath; my shorts were stained, sticky and cooling between my legs from the type of lust that was embarrassing at twenty-two years old. Then I heard a deep voice behind me snigger. "Hey - ain't 'chu Marcus Ashford? Kin Ah git yo' autograph? O' better yet, kin Ah lick dat spunk offa yo' crotch?"

"God in Heaven..." 'Oliver Gibson' - the man that used to be Ronnie - walked in front of me. His skin was much darker than mine, and every hyperdeveloped muscle on his near-nude body was gleaming with a fine sheen of oil. His nose and thick, sensuous lips dominated the entire lower third of his face and he pulled down his pair of sunglasses to give me a playful look and a downright wanton smirk. His voice was sexy and deep with a substantial drawl that cemented his new identity.

His eyes - like mine - were an intense deep brown-black and his teeth appeared to be larger and whiter as well. And his hair ... substantial black dreds gleamed in the sunlight and spread over his shoulders like a living cloak. He had a thin mustache over his upper lip and a small patch of well-trimmed hair on his chin. Faint, razor-cut sideburns dropped down and extended partially along his rugged jawline. Curved steel barbells twinkled in his ears.

He sat down on the lounge and the chair creaked ominously as it was forced to accommodate the weight of two heavily built black men. I reached up to stroke his face and he nuzzled the palm of my hand and kissed it. He smelled of vanilla and coconut.

"You likez wat you seez, Marky?" My hand moved lower to stroke his chest and then to trace delicate designs on the mesas and plateaus of his deep chocolate six-pack. He shivered in pleasure.

"Oh hell,  yes... what about you? How does it feel to be a muscle-brutha?"

Another brilliant smile and his almond-shaped eyes crinkled. "Itz incredible! Ah've nevva felt such an amazin' amount ov freedom an' sheer confidence likez Ah do now!"

"I love your voice - it goes perfectly with the way you look..."

"Yeah... az a sexually insatiable black hustler, Ah've gotta sound da part, right??" He gave a deep chuckle. "Y'know, when Ah first saw da entire transfo'mayshun in da mirror, Ah gotz so hard Ah hadda jerk off right den an' d'ere. Ah think Ah cover'd da entire flo' length mirror wiff cum..."

It was my turn to chuckle. "Me too." He scooted up closer and held my face in his hands as he gently kissed me on the mouth. I responded in kind and we spent a long while exploring our new bodies with hands and lips.

We stopped only when we noticed that the sun had began to drop near the horizon. Oliver stood up and held out a hand to me, looking pointedly at my now cum-stained shorts. "Why don' we takez a shower an' den hav summ fun b'fo' dinner? Ah don' know when Zack iz goin' tah finish da las' two stepz, so we shood fuck each otha senseless at least once befo' dat..."

He pulled down his shorts to display a similar type of Cocksling as I was wearing. His was shiny black and separated his two balls in his low-slung sac.

I had been so preoccupied with Ollie's transformation that the last two painful steps had slipped my mind. I grabbed his hand and pulled myself up. I couldn't wait to plunge my thick black horsecock between those dark asscheeks and up his chute. "Great idea!" We headed back into the warehouse.



* * *

We were both limping badly when we joined Zack and EJ for dinner. Ollie and I had had a marathon suck-and-fuck session and our abilities (and appetites) for multiple orgasms had definitely increased with our transformation. My lover had plowed my ass like there was no tomorrow, and I returned the extra-rough handling - much to his surprise and delight.


The two of them were trying their damnedest not to laugh and failing miserably when we sat down and winced every time we moved. All four of us were in shorts and soccer shoes.

The meal had consisted of a fresh Greek salad with romaine, yellow tomatoes and mild feta cheese; added to that, a delicious lamb stew with savory rice and a mix of grilled and roasted vegetables. After our exertions we were ravenous and wolfed down several helpings.

"Do you want some extra cushions?" The question was innocent, but the mischievous grin on EJ's face was not.

"Shut yo mowff, China-boy..." Oliver growled and reached out to grab EJ's jaw across the table as his face assumed a mock scowl. "You wanna git punishment-fucked by a sex-crazed black thug?"

I cleared my throat. I looked at my lover and arched an eyebrow. Then I licked my thick lips. A knowing look passed between us and there was a wordless agreement of what we would do next. These two are for dessert.

I got up to open a cabinet and removed two bottles of lube. I tossed one to Ollie. He then swept the remains of the dinner - bowls, plates, cutlery - off the table and clattering onto the floor. My lover grabbed Zack about the waist, lifted him onto the table and slammed him down onto his back. My dreadlocked black lover pulled the inked man's legs onto his shoulders and opened the bottle of lube. He spread a generous amount onto his member and an equal amount onto and into Zack's pucker.


"Ollie, what do you think you're do-" Zack said as he entered him and began to thrust brutally and deeply.

"Oh, damn ... Oh bloody Christ ... Oh Lord ... Oh shit .... Yes! ... YES! Harder, Ollie, more! MORE!" Zack panted as the black man pistoned in and out of him. He was gripping the sides of the table trying to give himself some traction against the brutal assault.

Meanwhile, I was just as busy with EJ. I held his head in both hands and crushed him against me kissing him ferociously on the mouth. I grabbed the Asian's nips and twisted brutally; the other man hissed - partly in pain, partly in pleasure. Then I hooked a kitchen chair with my foot and pulled it over to us.

"Bend over and hold on!" I barked.


I lubed myself up and with a single thrust - buried myself to the hilt into EJ. The Asian whimpered as my tool drilled into his chute - in and out, in and out - all the while twisting the other man's sensitive nips. I growled deep in my throat as slammed into him again and again... and again.

Ollie and I exchanged vicious grins over the bodies of our buddies as we cruelly raped them. Black thugs doing what we do best. We found ourselves (again) blessed with an incredible stamina as we swapped victims repeatedly and emptied load after load into them.

And so it proceeded throughout the rest of the evening - the smell of sex filled the kitchen as sweat-soaked, lubed-up bodies writhed and intertwined in pleasure as the sounds of grunts and moans filled the air.

* * *

After about 90 minutes (and several gallons of cum) later, Oliver and I were spent. Zack and EJ were sprawled facedown on the table and cooking island, groaning in exhaustion and pain from the unexpected and brutal pounding we had given them. We were leaning against the granite countertop and I weakly gave my lover a fist bump.

"Shit..." Zack tried to lever himself off the table and failed.

"An' d'ere'll be more ov da same if you decide tah diss either me o' Marcus agin... we iz muscle-bruthas, you know..." Zack gave a weak chuckle.

"Promises, promises..." EJ muttered.  He pushed himself upright and took a few halting steps before he nearly collapsed on the floor. Luckily my reflexes were still fast enough to catch him. He looked up into my face and gave me a soft kiss on the nose.  "Thanks, handsome... got something I need to show you. Help me over to that counter?"

With my arm around his waist, I helped him stagger over to where he indicated and he opened a drawer to remove a deck of cards. He slowly went through the deck and then removed a card and laid it face-down on the granite.

EJ leaned on the counter and rested a moment. "I want you two to tell me something..."

He held up the card. "What is this?"

Ronnie and I looked at each other. "Itz da ten ov diamondz."

The Asian gave us a tired grin. "No, it's the Brobninag of Barbeque..." He then slid down onto the floor.

I felt the world around me shift for a second and then everything was back to normal.

Ollie cleared his throat. "We better git d'ese two clean'd up an' inta bed..."

I nodded in agreement as I picked EJ up and held him in my arms. Lucky for us the industrial showers had plenty of room for us all. The cool water and scented soap revived the men we had raped as we lathered up our bodies sluicing off the sweat, musk and cum of our exertions.

* * *

OLLIE

Marky and I got up early and after another intense lovemaking session between us; we padded down the stairs to the kitchen. The place was a mess after the orgy we had initiated last night.

My partner gave me a rueful grin. "We should get this cleaned before EJ and Zack wake up."

"Yeah, but quiet-like. We put dem two guyz troo a lot."

It took us about ninety minutes - putting dishes and utensils in the washer, cleaning the counters, mopping the floor and rearranging the furniture back in place.  I didn't realize how truly sex-crazed the two of us had been until we were scraping off still-drying cum from the linoleum and almost every vertical surface.

Maybe half an hour later, Zack and EJ stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Other than pronounced limps, the two appeared to be alert and apparently, none the worse for wear.

EJ's face broke into a grin. "What smells so good?" I'm sure the scents of the coffee and griddlecakes woke them up and put the two of them in a good mood.

Zack looked around the kitchen and smiled. I could tell he appreciated our cleanup work. EJ's stomach growled and we all chuckled at his obvious embarrassment. I turned from the rangetop as I removed the last few pancakes and placed them on a serving plate.

"We hadda tidy up..."

Marky chimed in. "We went overboard with you guys last night and we're sorry. It wasn't fair to take advantage of you like that and I hope you'll forgive Ollie and me - the whole transformation did go to our heads a bit..." A dark muscular arm wrapped around me as he made our apologies.

EJ chuckled. "Well, I was able to cross off  'gang-raped by black thugs' from my bucket list..."

I gave the two a toothy white grin. "We all shood hav mornin' sex an' pancakes - but we skipp'd da pancakes part an' left 'em fo' you. Ah've alwayz been told not tah eat anythin' afta 8pm da night b'fore any surgery - an' Ah figgered you'd wanna do our throats t'day."

Zack nodded. "Good thinking. I want to get you two all done as soon as possible. We've got a clock running on your move to LA and Marcus' new career at Aria."

The inked artist and his partner-in-crime settled down to breakfast. As they were munching away, EJ glanced up at Marky. "Marcus, when's your birthday?"

"August 26th..." His eyes widened in amazement. "Oh shit..."

"Where did you grow up?"

"Lansford, Ohio..." He was grinning from ear to ear. "My God ... This is amazing!"

"What was Kenny Wynand's birthday?"

"Ummm... March 18th?? ... Damn!!"

Zack turned to me. "Where did you and Marcus meet?"

We looked at each other and laughed. "VEGAS!"

Marky continued. "I used to work security part-time at the Venetian and I meet Ollie during a LEO convention... Ollie was a cop! We both were! I was on the narcotics unit at LVPD!" He jumped into my arms and kissed me.

"Mah room got dubble-booked by accident an' Ah had nowhere tah stay. Marky heard me yellin' at da desk clerk an' Ah stayed wiff him at da convention!"

EJ quirked an eyebrow. "Was a cop?"

I gave a deep chuckle. "Yeah... Ah did summ exotic dancin' on da side when Ah wuz on da Fort Worth PD... someone took a video ov one ov mah showz at da gay bar Ah work'd at an' sent it inta da brass... Ah wuz told tah quit an' they'd gimme a good recommendayshun o' dey'd fire me an' let it go public... damn... 'tween da benefitz at da PD an' da money frum da clients at dat bar, Ah wuz doin' real well..." I couldn't believe how easily the details of my life as 'Oliver Gibson' rolled off my tongue - it was mind-boggling. I could recall all the details of Ronnie Bearce's life as well - but they seemed distant and abstract - they weren't mine. Not any more - they belonged to a blond-haired, blue-eyed whiteboy that no longer existed.

"So when I got signed by Aria, I asked Ollie to come with me!" My lover was beaming with happiness.

"Well, now that all of that's taken care of, let me finish off breakfast and then I'll get you two ready for the permanent voice alteration."

* * *

CHARLIE

"You don't think they're gonna mind us seeing them?" Tony looked over at me from the passenger seat of black pickup as we pulled into the back of Zack's warehouse.

"Nah. They've been here for a week - they must be getting stir-crazy."

The two of us hopped out of the truck and approached the heavy metal door. As we got there, the buzzer sounded and we let ourselves in.

Zack met us at the inner door with a big grin on his face and gave each of us a firm hug. "Hey! What bring you to this neck of the woods? You want to become black gang-bangers again? Permanently this time??"

Tony chuckled and shook his head. "Don't tempt us... We wanted to see how Kenny and Ronnie are doing."

"They're fine. The transformation came off without a hitch,  but Marcus' partner is still recuperating from the permanent voice change... c'mon in - I know they'll be glad to see you."

We followed Zack into the warehouse proper and wound up in the large gym/weight room. Tony's breath caught in his throat. "Christ Almighty! Is that Ronnie?"

I followed his eyes and my mouth dropped open in shock. A dark-skinned black man with a thick head of dreadlocks was working out his abs and obliques. He was extraordinarily handsome and absolutely carnal in a primitive sort of way. Every muscle on his body was etched to perfection and gleamed with a fine sheen of sweat. He was wearing a set of headphones and his sharply sculpted face was tight with concentration.

Zack grinned. "Yep! Looks amazing, doesn't he? By the way those two are completely incapable of responding to their names when they were white - they're 'Marcus' and "Ollie' now."

Marcus finished his pull-downs and wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. He turned his head towards us and a bright white grin split his face.

"Charlie! Tony! Hey - it's great seein' you guyz!" He rushed over to us and we were enveloped in his dark embrace. The combined smell of sweat and musk of the newly-converted black man served to make our cocks twitch and grow to a painful fullness in our jeans. Ronnie - no, 'Ollie' - caught the movement out of the corner of  his eye and an equally bright smile creased his dark face as he joined us.

"Ollie, man - you look amazing!" Tony held the other black man by his shredded obliques and then pulled him into a tight embrace.

"T'anks Tony, Ah feelz amazin' too... 'cept mah throat..." His voice was barely above a whisper, but we could tell that when all was healed, he'd have a deep, commanding timbre to match his appearance.

"When da anesthesia wore off, Ah felt like Zack had shov'd a hot tailpipe down mah gullet..." - he unconsciously rubbed his corded neck - "but it feelz a lot better. Dr. Frankenstein here wantz me tah stay quiet mos' ov da time 'til it's completely heal'd."

"...Which should be in a few more days. Can you two stay for dinner?"

* * *

We learned during the meal that there was going a final stage to the transformation which was yet to occur.

"Physically, they look like black men, and mentally - thanks to some deep, post-hypnotic reinforcement - they have a set of memories as black men, but genetically, they're still two white guys. This last step is going to remedy that - they'll be as black inside as they appear outside. I'm going to blur their DNA so any genetic examination will show up as African genotypes. It'll also address any issues of record matching to any current law enforcement databases."

" 'DNA blurring'  Wow... that's amazing..." Tony shook his head in wonder.

"According to Zack, it's gonna feel like we've caught the worst case of the flu for about a week - but after that, we'll be feeling great again."

Ollie popped another spoonful of creamy pasta into his mouth. "Ah cain't wait fo' alla dis tah be ovva - Ah wanna feel az damned good az Ah look!" His voice had improved considerably since we first met him earlier, but Zack put up a cautioning  hand to stay quiet.

I surreptitiously looked at my watch. "We should get going. You guys have been through a lot and we don't want to tire you out."

Tony and I hugged the newly converted black men and then headed out, with promises to be back when they were fully recovered from their genetic reorganization.

Tony was quiet in the truck on our way back to Manhattan. I could tell he was thinking.


"Charlie - do you miss being Ray? Seeing Marcus and Ollie tonight, I was thinking how much I enjoyed being a muscle-brutha with you... even though we were doing terrible things..."


I sighed. "Sometimes. I felt that way a bit tonight too. Although now, I'd definitely want to have Mattie do it with me. Us. Let's face it, we were hard-core street fuckers when we were black men and I don't know if we be any better the second time around."

He nodded. "Yeah. You were a really bad influence on me..." My partner grinned. "... but maybe Mattie as a black man would balance out those badass tendencies of yours..."

I chuckled. "Or make them worse..." Then I shivered. Since Mattie had already killed the men who had beaten me, what would happen if he became a muscle-brutha with no fear of any repercussions for his actions?

* * *

MARCUS

Zack hadn't been joking about the final step in our transformation being painful. "Oh, God... please let me die now" would have been a better description. Ollie and I had been strapped down to hospital beds and then we were injected with the virus in a syringe that looked like a milk bottle. Right away, the sensation was excruciating and we arched our backs in agony and screamed. Then we passed out.

But he was also right about the outcome. After ten days feeling like death warmed over (Zack said we were out cold for three days straight), we started feeling much better and by the twelfth day, we felt amazingly good and even better than before.

That meant it was time for the "official" press conference with Gene and Aria Records. Ollie and Zack had come with me for moral support, and I appreciated seeing the thinly veiled sexual looks that were directed towards my lover. He was dressed in a low-cut red tank with snug heather-gray sweats that clung to every curve of his dieseled lower body. When I looked at him, he gave me a wicked grin - he was enjoying the attention directed towards him as well.

The conference was a complete success - I was again completely floored by the volume of press and photographers at the meeting and it was announced that I was moving to California. My life story was put into the press release and I was more than happy to answer questions that peppered me after Gene had spoken. Thanks to Zack, the details rolled effortlessly from my lips. After about ninety minutes, the conference was over.

"You did great, Marcus - I can't wait to have you in the studio and doing recordings for your debut album! You're going to be on 'GMA' tomorrow and 'Fox and Friends' the day after."

He anticipated my next question. "Zack's taking care of packing your stuff up here and you'll be staying at an apartment Aria owns while we look for a permanent place for you."

"We were thinking of someplace modest outside of LA - maybe in Lakewood or Palmdale - I want to be able to invest a good portion of whatever I make. We don't need a big flashy home."

This kid has a great head on his shoulders. Ollie loped over to us and put his arm around my shoulder. 

"You did great, Marky - really great!" I wanted to kiss him so badly at the moment, but we were in public; it would have to wait until we had some privacy.

Gene nodded to him.  "Ollie, I understand that Marcus is your... "

A look of panic crossed my lover's face and his arm tightened around me. 

"Cousin?"

The record executive's eyebrows arched emphatically as he prompted. "cousin... of course..."

He was surprised. "Y-yes, Suh... dat's right."

"... and you'll be living together? Good. Mr. Giambi strongly appreciates - discretion -  from all his employees... I'm glad you both understand."

We walked out of the conference room. "I want you to meet with Emmy Rossum to talk about some duets on your debut album. She'll be here this afternoon. In the meantime, why don't you and your cousin join me for lunch? You like Japanese?"

* * *

I will be the first one to admit that I was basically running on fumes on this one, and because of that, I decided to go "full Barbara Cartland" on this entry.

Barbara Cartland (for those of you who are unfamiliar with the author) is the great-grandmother of the romantic bodice-ripper genre and was probably the woman that put the publisher “Harlequin Romances” onto the map.

Barbara’s forte was to take the same story and basically change a few small details like hair color or locale (e.g. the Wild West and a half-breed indian brave vs. medieval Scotland and a black haired Highlander) and basically repeat the same story over and over. Girl meets boy; girl hates boy and after a few tumultuous adventures, girl falls completely for boy and live happily ever after.

And that formula was VERY successful.

So I did it here. A lot of the story line can be traced back to other entries I’ve done previously and I’ve cut and pasted some dialogue as well that was appropriate.

But I also wanted to show off Zack’s “permanent transformation” but have it end on a higher (and happier) note than Ray-Ray's in the AU storyline.


The relationship between Kenny and Ronnie I felt was somehow special – when I wrote the characters into the original “Initiation” story arc, I had actually pictured Ronnie as one of the few older policemen at the Four-One – but then I decided to have him approximately the same age as Kenny, but with a bit of a rougher past that had hardened his heart to some degree. 

Nevertheless, the two found each other at the police academy, and the extent that he is willing to go to remain with his partner (on duty and off) is indicative of the strength and dedication of his character.

It does help to have a fully-developed “secondary world” to place my characters into, and in this instance, I found it was more of a help than a hindrance. Nearing the end of the story, my initial thought was to continue the tale with Emmy Rossum meeting Ollie in the recording booth and then doing some duets with Marcus. I was also thinking of Vincent Pak (formerly a capo in Don Leone's organization and now working for Lucio) to have become a real estate agent and assist the two newly transformed black men in finding a house. However, I realized that I was starting to accumulate a lot of extraneous detail that was doing nothing for the story itself.


The interplay with Marcus and Gene after the press conference I HAD to put in. I had just seen "Pretty Woman" again (I never get tired of that movie!) and the scene with Julia Roberts and Hector Elizondo is priceless.



The last “Transformation” story (and I promise it will be the last!) is basically in outline form, and I really have no desire at this point to flesh it out. I have a mask that need a bit of surgery and I’m a bit annoyed because of that. It's an autographed CFX Remy (that needs a lipectomy – I had tried to get the lips extended from another vendor, but they rippled for some reason)

But such is life. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the work coming out of Yves Gravelle’s Metamorphose Masks and I’m looking forward to seeing stuff from Jeremy Gardner’s Evolution Masks as well.





2 comments:

  1. Nice to see a Transformations story that has a lighter, happier tone to it. A lot of the stuff in some of the other chapters just went past that line from awesome into uncomfortable for me.

    I'm intrigued by EJ; I hope he makes another appearance. There's clearly more to him than meets the eye -- what caused him to want to make his own transformation, etc.

    And don't worry about Cartlanding yourself; while there were a few elements of the transformation itself that were verbatim, there was plenty that was new!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks! I realized that I was - like Charlie and Tony - getting in too deep and pulled myself out. EJ is a character I want to develop as well; not quite sure of his backstory, but I've invented and discarded a few already. The other pairing that has me intrigued is Adam and Andy - I have to see how I can work the Greasetank environment into a story and not have it dark...

    ReplyDelete