TANNER
The knock sounded on my door, and Tommy Royce - one of the newer patrolmen - poked his head in.
"Sir, I've been having problems since I was Converted into a black man for my initiation."
I motioned for him to continue.
"Cap, becoming a black man - and a felon - was the best and most amazing thing that had ever happened to me. I loved being 'Jamal Collins' ... being locked up in Rikers for two weeks was the best experience I've ever had. I've just been devastated becoming a white guy again. And a cop."
He continued. "I'm realizing that I want... I need to become a black man for good. I need to be a felon for real. I want to be locked up. I've realized that this is who I should have always been, Cap - not a white cop, not a free man. An inmate. A black inmate. That loss of freedom is what I've got to have, Sir. I need that extreme level of regimentation and the sheer brutality of being incarcerated."
Damn... another one.
"Sir, I'm an orphan. No one will miss me if I disappear off the face of the earth. You can do whatever you need to my head to make sure the program stays safe for everyone else."
"Anything, Thomas?"
"Anything you need to do, Cap. Please. I'm begging you..." There was unshed tears in his eyes.
"Let me do this. I'll authorize a six-month Deep Conversion for you. During that time you will have no official contact with the Four-One and there will be extremely strong safeguards installed mentally. You'll be staying in one of the low-rent apartments we have set aside for felons, and when you're not committing crimes, you'll be working at the Greasetank. You'll be subject to random pickups by the officers here, with stints in the holding pen. At the end of that period, if you truly want to continue on this course, we will arrange a permanent Conversion with Zack and upgrade your rap sheet to include a number of outstanding warrants for several Class A-1 and Class B felonies. You'll be picked up at random by non-Four-One officers, and incarcerated. Is that acceptable?"
A look of pure relief filled his face. "Yes! Thank you, sir! I couldn't ask for anything more!"
"Very well. I'll set up an appointment with Zack this week for your interim Conversion."
* * *
TOMMY
I felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I was going to become a black felon for real. Permanently. My partner and I had a fairly uneventful watch and by the time I got back to the Four-One, I had received a text from Zack to come to the warehouse tomorrow afternoon. Wow, that was fast!
I showered, changed and headed home. There was some stuff I needed to do before my appointment tomorrow.
* * *
When I entered my apartment, I looked around and shrugged. This may be the last time I see this place. No matter. I prefer a jail cell, anyway.
I had picked up an a couple of industrial-sized jars of Crawford Cream on the way home, and the first thing I did was strip naked and head into the bathroom. I got out the clippers and proceeded to shave my head down to an almost-invisible stubble. I grinned at my reflection in the mirror and proceeded to slather my entire body with the hair-removal cream, including my face and scalp, leaving only my eyebrows and eyelashes uncovered.
After thirty-minutes, I got into the shower and rinsed. My whole body was smooth as a baby's ass and tingled - it felt great. I looked in the mirror again and beamed at the reflection.
I pulled on a pair of pajama pants; I jumped in bed and dreamed of being one hot, hairless, incarcerated black man.
* * *
The next day I was off, so after a good breakfast, I dressed and headed out to Zack's. The subway ride took about an hour, and then there was a twenty-minute walk from the subway to his Brooklyn warehouse. Zack was waiting for me outside.
"Hey Tommy! All ready?"
He put his arm around my shoulder and we went inside."You bet! I'm so glad that Cap is letting me do this! It's like a dream come true!"
Zack held up his hand. "Stop right there, bud. Captain Morgan said this is ONLY a six-month Conversion. You - and all of us - have to make sure this is what you really want to do."
"It is! Believe me, it is!"
"We'll see. What we're doing today is the standard Conversion. You're going to become 'Jamal Collins' again. The change is permanent until we switch you back. Bite surfaces and fingerprints will be changed as well to match the info in the CIC, NIBRS and other criminal databases. You agree to that, right? You're not going to run off at the end of the six months, are you?"
"No, sir! I gave Cap my word!"
"Good. We're going to be enhancing the conditioning you normally have so you will be unable to talk about your Conversion to ANYONE except Tanner and myself - and then only under certain conditions. Your memories are going to include a much longer list of crimes you have committed as well. I'm also going to give you an extra large dose of Transanabol and Erotropin; Dani has been informed about the situation and you'll be working at the Greasetank three-to-four nights a week as a barback and a fuck-boy."
Zack chuckled. "You'll really fill out and get taller in six months with all cum you'll be getting! You'll make enough to pay the rent and eat. I've got all of your IDs ready and I've got the keys and address to your new apartment."
"Wow!"
"At the end of the period - if you've decided you want to continue down this path - I'm going to remove all of the nano-dye from you and replace it with a completely unremovable version. Along with the activation coat, this will guarantee you will never be able to become a white man again. We'll destroy your molds and I'll also inject you with a nanovirus that is going to blur your DNA so any potential genetic test will show you with the genotype of a black man. You'll feel sick as a dog for about two weeks, but after that, every trace of 'Thomas Royce' will be erased from the face of the earth. Only 'Jamal Collins' will be left. You'll pick up where you left off in terms of working and committing crimes, and at some random time in that near future, you'll be picked up and arrested."
As Zack was describing what would be happening to me, my cock had been thickening with lust. He noticed the substantial bulge running down the leg of my jeans and grinned. "Okay, let's get started."
* * *
JAMAL
I'm back. Hopefully for good. 'Jamal Collins' gave me a big white smile in the mirror. Zack had changed my prints and my teeth already to match my NIBRS profile - I had pulled my three steel cockrings over and around my massive cock and balls and pulled on a skimpy black brief. I stroked my dark-skinned body and a contented grin spread across my now-ethnic face. This time, I was bald and I had a well-trimmed goatee and mustache; he had dyed my lashes and brows a deep black too. My voice was different and deeper as well. I love being a black man. This is who I need to be. A black man and a convicted criminal.
"Okay, 'Jamal'... as I said, your artificial memories have been enhanced this time to include a good deal more felonies you've committed, and we're also introducing some stricter inhibitions on revealing or recalling your previous existence as 'Tommy Royce'. One, you will be completely be unable to speak like anything but a low-class black man with a tenth-grade education. Two, you will also be unable to talk about your Conversion or your previous existence to anyone - including Captain Morgan and myself - unless certain conditions are met. Finally, certain memories belonging to 'Tommy Royce' will be locked away. You ready?"
I couldn't wait. "C'mon Zack. Let's go!!!"
"Look at me, 'Jamal'... Traverse. Hobo. Agate.
Da world spun 'round an' Ah felt like someboddy jus' shot a red-hot bullet troo mah haid. Ah hadda grab hold ov da counta so's Ah woodn' fall down. "Dayumm, Zack, dat wuz fuckin' INTENSE."
But Ah wuz ME again. All ov mah mem'ries wuz back. Ah coodn't wait t'get on da street an' start doin' wat Ah wuz good at - havin' sex an' committin' crimes. Ah gave da whiteboy in front ov me a sly grin. Dis muscle-puppy needz a reel deep ass-fuckin' befo' Ah leavez...
"Couple of questions for you, stud. Who were you yesterday?"
Ah gave him a puzzled look. "Same az today. 'Jamal Collins' - you knowz dat."
"And where did you live yesterday?"
"Ah livez at..." Sheet-it... Ah wuz havin' a brain fart. Ah couldn' r'memba dat.
"Shee-it.... wat's wrong with mah haid?"
Zack gave me a smile. "Topaz."
Da world spun 'round agin. "FUCCKKK!!!"
Ah wuz still Jamal, but now Ah hadz da info da whiteboy axed fo'.
"Dayyumm, Zack! Ah coodn' even 'magine Ah wuz evva a whiteboy!"
"That phrase unlocks the memories of 'Tommy Royce' for you to access. But it only works if Captain Morgan or I say it."
Zack gave me a wallet. Ah open'd it up an' saw summ cash, ID cardz an' otha shit 'bout me, includin' my prison ID card frum Attica.
"Your new address is 1915 Billingsley Terrace in the Bronx. Keys and some other items for you are in your backpack. I've made fake ID in the name of 'Jamal Roberts' - good enough for most situations, but won't hold up under real police scrutiny. You should go over to the Greasetank and meet with Dani before the club opens tonight. We've explained the situation to him, and he's going to be treating you like the low-life felon you are."
Ah grinn'd at dat. "Well, Ah ain't a cop no mo' - an' wiff luck, nevva will be agin - Ah'm jus' summ black muthafucka wiff a rap sheet."
Zack gave me 'nother grin. "Artglass."
"That word resets your persona."
"Wat word?"
"You don't remember it once you hear it. That's another safety precaution."
Ah pull'd Zack in fo' a hard kiss. "Befo' Ah goez t'see Dani, Ah needz t'powwa-fuck yo' whiteboy ass..." Ah stripp'd off mah briefs an' wuz givin' Zack a hungry grin az Ah strok'd mah cock; Ah wuz alreddy hard an' leakin' pre-cum on da flo'.
Zack smiled. "Sounds like a great way to say 'see you later' !! " He grabb'd mah dick an' pull'd me afta him az we went up da stairz.
* * *
Ah fill'd up dat whiteboy'z ass 'least ten timez befo' Ah was dry, an' den Ah suck'd hiz cock. Ah musta gotten back all da cum Ah fill'd hiz ass wiff, an' d'en summ. Afta Ah left him pantin' on the bed, Ah went downstairs, got dress'd an' left da warehouse.
* * *
It wuz gettin' dark when Ah gotz to da Greasetank an' Ah went in troo da back entrance t'see Dani. Ah nevva met 'im befo', but Zack tol' me 'bout 'im. He wuzn't in his office, so's Ah went into da club an' saw him movin' summ tablez closa to da stage.
"Dani?"
He turned around an' look'd at me. Dayumm... he was one big, mean-lookin' mothafucka. He wuz wearin' a tight white dress shirt an' dark pants. Hiz dreadlockz wuz pull'd back an' he gave me an annoyed look.
"You Jamal?"
Ah nodd'd. "Zack sed you gotz a job fo' me...?'
He nodded. "You iz gonna be workin' behind da bar part-time, an' when you ain't doin' dat, you gonna be servin' up yo' holes to whatevva guy wantz 'em? You feel me, nigga?"
"Ah unnerstand, Mr. Stewart."
"Ah catch you stealin' or doin' any other shit dat could cause trouble, Ah'll break yo' fuckin' arms an' legs. If'n my partner Yvgeny catches you, he'll use a cleaver an' cut off bowff yo' hands. We clear on ev'rything?"
He sed dat so matta-ov-fact it scared da shit right outta me. Ah gulped. "Yes, boss."
He nodded an' tilt'd hiz head towardz an door in da back. "Good. Go an' git yo'self leather'd up. When you iz workin' here, you wearz a harness, boots and leather pantz wiff a back zipper." He got back to arrangin' da tables an' mutter'd unda hiz breath 'bout fuckin' asshole help not gettin' anything right. Ah went troo da doorway t'get reddy fo' mah new job.
* * *
Ah found mahself inna big combo dressin' room an' leatha workshop. D'ere wuz a bunch ov young, oiled-up musclepuppiez - dress'd in black leatha an' g-stringz - an' a frantic Latino wuz busy tryin' to get ev'rything in order. He bump'd inta me an' gave a reel irritat'd look. He had well-styl'd hair an' glasses an' wuz wearing a leatha vest.
"And what do YOU want?"
"Umm... Ah jus' gotz hired an' ..."
He troo hiz armz inta da air... dayumm... he wuz compleety ovva the top. "Oh dear God ... Danell is going to give me a STROKE!! Forget that ...just murder me now! Put me out of my misery! Jeffrey! Pull that damn zipper up all the way!" He gave a big sigh an' fann'd himself.
"I'm sorry... I am under SO much stress right now, I wish I was dead! You said you just got hired? Doing what? I'm Julian. What's your name?"
"Ah'm Jamal - Dani sed Ah needz a harness an' leatha pants..."
Julian roll'd hiz eyez. "Wonderful... another fuck-boy... I just don't have time to make you pants - we're going to have to find something to fit for tonight. What's your waist size?"
"Ah takez a thirty-two in jeanz..."
He gave me 'nother sufferin' look an' hurried ovva to a rack in the back ov da room, flippin' thru summ pantz an' pull'd a pair off a hanga.
"Now where are those cups...??" He mov'd ovva to a dressa an' slamm'd draws open an' shut. "Aha!" he held up a hard jock cup. He grabb'ed a harness and shov'd ev'rything inta my arms.
"Those pants are going to be a little loose, but that cup should push out your junk and tighten everything up. Take off those clothes.... oh my ... boots! You need boots! What's your shoe size?"
" 'leven an' a haff..."
The little guy ran outta da room an' came back holdin' a pair of jumpbootz. "These are a twelve, but they should fit you. Strip and I'll help you get ready."
Ah peeled offa mah clothes, Julian oiled me up all ovva. Ah hadda jump up an' down to get into da leatha pants an' he slipped the cup inta da front an' zipp'd me up. Ah look'd great - Ah wuz sportin' a huge bulge in front, da leatha wuz tight ovva my ass an' the zippa came right up da middle.
Ah sat down to pull on mah bootz an' Julian slipp'd da harness ovva mah haid. Ah stood up an' he gave me a haid-ta-toe look an' nodd'd in 'preciation.
"Okay Jamal, you're all set. I think we can use those pants and the cup instead of sewing you a new pair. I think I should have all the boys wear cups! You look wonderful like this." He patt'd mah ass. "Have fun tonight!"
* * *
It wuz a busy nite. Ah spent mo' time servin' mahself up d'an drinkz. Ah coodn' beeleeve how much cum Ah swallow'd o' how much Ah got up mah ass from musclebruthas an' big Latinos. Aroun' 5am, da sex club clos'd. Ah gotz dress'd in mah street clothes an' limpin' badly, head'd to mah new place.
* * *
It wuz reel run down. But Ah wuz happy. Ah wuz a black man wiff a long rap sheet. Ah flopp'd on da bed an' laff'd. Ah wuz thinkin' 'bout my mah NIBRS record an' it showin' 'whereabouts unknown'. "Wiff any luck, dat ain't gonna be true inna short time." Ah wuz also happy 'bout tonite. Ah enjoy'd workin' at da sex club an' bein' a fuckboy... an' getting mo' ov da same on a reg'lar basis. Jus' gotta find me some whiteboyz now to powwa-fuck...
Ah yawn'd an' got up frum da bed an' shuffl'd inta da baffroom. It wuz jus' as skanky az da rest ov da place, but Ah grinn'd when Ah saw a big jar ov Hyperlube on da sink an' a big, thick butt plug.
"Mmmmm...." Ah stripp'd an' rubb'd a wad ov da lube on mah hard an' achin' black cock. Afta a few strokez, Ah shot a huge load ov thick cum inta the bafftub."Dayumm, dat felt GOOD."
Afta Ah took a showwa, ('leastwize Ah had hot water!) Ah greas'd up dat big tool an' grunted az Ah shov'd dat monsta plug inta my ass an' head'd back to bed. Da plug felt great - Ah guess Ah need'd t'have mah ass full ov sumpthin' - a cock or a plug - alla time now - it jus' felt wrong t'be empty.
* * *
Da next mo'nin', Ah gotz up late an' da firs' thing Ah dunn wuz text my buds Leon an' Malik. Da tree ov us did lotz ov drug-runnin' an' burglariez befo' - Ah need'd t'get back wiff d'em an' start up where we left off.
Meet me at The Half Moon Diner - gotta catch up. Usual time. - Jamal
* * *
Ah gotz to da run-down diner 'bout 2:30 - it wuz afta da lunch rush an' da place wuz pretty empty. Ah head'd to da back an' saw Malik an' Leon inna booth. Ah gotz big wavez an' grinz az Ah sat down.
"Jamal! Where you been, nigga!?"
"Ah hadda leave town an' wait till shit cool'd off. But Ah'm back!! How's it goin' ?"
Malik frown'd. "Not so good wiffout you, bruh. Kinda quiet. You reddy fo' ackshun agin?"
Ah nodd'd. "Gotz a job in a sex club. Ah likez it a lot."
Leon snigger'd. "Gettin' fuck'd by musclebruthas?"
Ah grinn'd back at him. "Uh-huh. All da time. Plus lotsa big, dark, hungry Latinos. Jus' gotta findz me summ whiteboyz so's Ah kin rape d'eir asses an' Ah'll be all set!"
But Ah got serious. "Tell da Molantos Ah'm back an' we iz reddy fo' bizness."
* * *
Ah still wuz horny az fuck frum las' night, so's we all went to Malik's 'parment. Ah powwa-fuck'd my crew multiple timez, an' when Ah wuz done, Ah suck'd dem off too. You alwayz gotta take care ov yo' crew. It wuz gettin' late, so's Ah left an' took da subway back up to da Greasetank fo' tonite.
Ah gotz inta my leatherz an' az Ah wuz lacin' up mah bootz, Dani came inta da dressin' room. Ev'ryone got reel quiet when he came in. He look'd 'round da room till he foun' me. "Jamal - in mah office. NOW."
Wat da fuq did Ah do? Ah finish'd tyin' my bootz an' hurried out.
* * *
When Ah gotz to Dani's office, He wuz standin' d'ere wiff hiz armed cross'd an' a smile on hiz face. D'ere wuz also anotha guy in wiff him. He wuz one BIG whiteboy. He wuz az swole as Dani an' had silky brown hair part'd in da middle wiff bright blue eyes. He had a big scar runnin' frum his hairline, down troo hiz eyebrow, troo hiz eye an' down to hiz cheek. He wuz wearin' a dark blue silk shirt dat wuz haff-unbutton'd to show off hiz pecz an' abz. He wuz smilin' too an' wuz strokin' hiz chin when Ah camez troo da door.
"Zis is him? I can see vhy he vas such a draw last night. Quite handsome... in a rough sort ov vay." He twirl'd hiz finga. "Turn around for me, Jamal."
He had a reel hevvy Russian accent.
Ah look'd at Dani an' he gave me a nod. Ah turn'd 'round. "Very nice ass. I sink ve should sample ze merchandise before he goes out on ze floor tonight. You agree, Dani?"
Dani laugh'd. "Dis iz mah partner, Yvgeny. We wuz watchin' how many guyz you serviced last nite. Good job. Stretch yo'self ovva mah desk."
* * *
The two big guyz took turnz fuckin' mah ass. Afta fo' o' five switchbackz, Yvgeny slapp'd mah ass troo da leatha an' zipp'd me back up. Ah cood feel dat Ah wuz dribblin' cum outta mah hole.
"Zat vas quite enjoyable, igrushechka (my little toy, ed.). Dani and I vill definitely need to fill up you more often. Now... off you go! Make our clientele happy!"
"Yes, suh! Thank you, Suh! Thank you Dani!" Ah tripp'd az Ah left da office az fast az Ah cood.
* * *
Ah gotz a lot mo' ackshun tonite. Not only did Ah git fuck'd by lotsa musclebruthas an' Latinos, Ah wuz suckin' cockz all night. Ah even gotz tips! Ah wuzn' shure how dat work'd here, an' Ah didn' wanna get Dani (o' Yvgeny) piss'd at me. So's when we wuz closin' da club, Ah went to Dani an' hand'd him da money.
"What da fuq is dis?"
"Mah tips. Ah ain't sure wat happenz here an' Ah don' wanna do nuthin' wrong... Ah likez mah handz just where dey at..."
Dani gave me a smile. "Keep it. Dat's yours."
"Fo' reel?" (Ah had 'bout tree hundred bucks) "Tankz, Dani!"
"You do good work, Jamal. Keep it up. We gotz a gym here too, so's if'n you wanna work out, come ovva whenevva you want."
"Wow! Tankz agin!" Ah'd been thinkin' 'bout needin' t'find a gym, but dis offa from Dani solv'd dat problem fo' me.
Ah left the club dat night - limpin' agin,' smilin, an' wiff money in mah pocket...
* * *
Ah wuz also doin' sex videos at da club - they wuz sellin' DVDs too an' Ah gotz summ money frum each sale.
When Ah wuzn' at the Greasetank, me an' my crew wuz drug runnin' an' committin' burglaries. Leon had a job az a valet at summ fancy club in da city, so's he text'd us da address ov people dat were d'ere. Dat way, we didn' hav worriez 'bout findin' someboddy at home an' cood steal real easy.
Ah also wuz also hittin' a place nearby da club call'd da Black Hole - dey alwayz had plenty ov whiteboyz dat hadda hav a brutha's cock up d'eir ass o' down d'eir throat an' alwayz lik'd it ruff. Jus' like whiteboyz needed it.
When Ah wuz leavin' da club, Ah gotz a text frum Zack. Dat wuz a reel surprize since Ah hadn' heard frum dat whiteboy inna while.
Can you come over tomorrow? I really need to be with you again. Heard you've gotten HUGE. Zack
Ah laff'd when Ah redd it.
When?
Tomorrow morning?
OK see you around 11:00
When Ah gotz to da warehouse, Zack buzz'd me in. He wuz jus' da same az alwayz, short cut black hair, glasses, an' wearin' just summ tight black shortz an' sneakerz. He strok'd mah body wiff a big smile on hiz face. "Wow, Jamal - you look FANTASTIC! I can't believe the difference from when you were here last!"
Ah smil'd an' pull'd 'im inta a hard kiss. "Yeah, Ah lovez da way Ah iz now! Reel jack'd an' swole ... Ah'm almos' az big az Dani now! Ah don' know wat it iz, but you iz one speshul whiteboy t'me, Zack - Ah luvz fuckin' yo' ass... jus' feelz so good fillin' you up wiff mah cum..."
Zack strok'd mah face - "I can't wait to get your big black cock in me, either! C'mon! After we have some fun, we have some other stuff to take care of."
"Like wat?"
He grinn'd. "You'll see."
"OK... time fo' me t'jackhamma yo' ass!" Ah put 'im on mah shouldas an' we head'd up da stairz to hiz bedroom.
* * *
Afta a reel ruff fuck sesshun, we went back down to da warehouse flo' an' went inta hiz workshop. Zack wuz grinnin', but dat whiteboy wuz limpin' somethin' bad frum da drillin' Ah gavez him.
Ah wuz surpriz'd t'see anotha man waitin' fo' us. He wuz reel muscled, wearin' a green shirt an' a purple tie; he look'd grim an' sad at da same time. When he saw me, he said "Topaz."
Mah head spun. "Cap! What da fuq iz you doin' here?" Alla sudden, Ah r'member'd who he wuz, who Ah used t'be an' why he wuz here.
"Thomas, it's been six months since your Conversion. Are you all right? We need to discuss what you want to do now..."
Ah narrow'd mah eyez. "Ah'm fine. Betta d'an fine. An' firs' off, mah name iz 'Jamal' - Ah ain't been 'Tommy Royce' since da firs' time Ah gotz turn'd inta a black man. D'ese six monthz jus' made dat reel cleer t'me - dat whiteboy don' exist no mo' - d'ere's jus' me - a low-class nigga an' a felon. Ah'm alwayz lookin' at copz thinkin' 'Ah'm gotta git arrested' an' Ah luvz da mindfuck dat givez me!"
Ah look'd at 'im wiff a real scowl on mah face. "You ain't thinkin' ov goin' back on yo' word, iz you, Cap? 'Cause if dat's wat you plannin', Ah cain jus' go out do summ reel bad shit in public - like kill someboddy - Ah'll get pick'd up an' put in prison reel fast."
He look'd shock'd at wat Ah said. "No, I gave you my word. Zack will handle your permanent Conversion today." He paus'd. "Are you sure you want to be incarcerated? We could easily just do the Conversion and you could continue to be 'Jamal Roberts' and still work for Dani - we can upgrade your ID and remove the NIBRS and CIC criminal entries...?"
Ah shook mah haid. "Nope. Workin' at the Greasetank wuz fun, but Ah cain git fuck'd by musclebruthas in prison jus' as much - an' Ah cain fuck whiteboyz d'ere too - prob'ly even more d'an now. I still wanna git arrest'd an' lock'd away. Ah wanna get beat up by prison guardz, too. "
"Very well. We'll add the additional Class B and A-1 felonies to your criminal record. After your permanent Conversion, you'll probably get picked up quite soon."
Ah grinn'd. "Dat's wat Ah wanna hear! T'anks fo' lettin' me be me, Cap. Ah knowz you didn' like mah answer, but Ah cain't go back bein' jus' a whiteboy agin. Ah'm da dumb, black muthafucka Ah alwayz shooda been,"
"I'll leave you two to handle the process, then. Goodbye, Jamal. I hope your life behind bars makes you happy." Hiz shouldas slump'd az he left the workroom.
* * *
Firs' thing Zack hadda do wuz r'move da hair on mah face; d'en he hadda take the dye offa my skin dat made me who Ah wuz; it wuz disgustin' to see dat whiteboy skin agin. Afta dat, he used wat he sed wuz a 'follicle killa' - it wuz dis thick cream he rubb'd all ovva mah face an' boddy; it hadda stay on fo' thirty minnits an' afta it gotz rinsed off in da showwa, he said dat Ah wuz now hairless fo' good. D'en Ah gotz five coats ov da reel perm'nent version ov the dye on me; afta dat, Zack put on wat he call'd da 'activation coat' - once dat dried, Ah wuz dunn - Ah didn' look no diff'rent, but Ah wuz - Ah wuz a reel black man 'cause da dye cood nevva cumm off - dis wuz mah reel skin now. He put mah stache an' beard back on an' den recolor'd mah eyez so dey was da deep brown-black Ah had when Ah came in. Ah pull'd my cockringz back on an' Zack toss'd me a skimpy black thong.
"Hop on the exam table, Jamal. Make a fist." He wrapp'd a rubber strip 'round mah bicep an' tapp'd mah elbow till summ veinz popp'd up. D'ere wuz tree needles on da side table.
"I'm going to give you another big dose of Transanabol and Erotropin. Once you get into prison, you'll be able to put on even more muscle than you have already. The third shot is the nano-virus. Like I said, this is going to rewrite your DNA so you'll appear to be a black man inside and out. There's also some genetic enhancements as well like ATP efficiency and base pair resilience. You're going to feel like you have the worst flu you've ever had for about two weeks; you're going to stay here with me until all your cellular information is revised. Ready?"
"Go fo' it!"
Ah gotz da three shotz; all Ah felt wuz a little hot aftawardz.
"The nano-virus takes a short time to start multiplying. Let's take care of some final business, first."
We lef' da exam room an' head'd troo da warehouse. We end'd up inna room wiff a bunch ov plasta molds.
"Those are all your 'before' molds of Tommy Royce. Smash them to bits. That's the last vestige of you on Earth."
Ah grinn'd az Ah lift'd up da hamma an' start'd bustin' d'em to piecez. Ah work'd up a good sweat, an' once d'ere wuz nothin' but little piecez left, Ah grinn'd at Zack. "Dat felt great! No' mo' Tommy Royce!"
Da whiteboy pull'd me in fo' a kiss. "C'mon Jamal, I have a nice dinner almost ready for us. You're going to feel start feeling the effects of the virus in a couple of hours, so let's relax and eat... and if you're game, I want to get that big black cock of yours filling my guts again."
* * *
ZACK
I was right. A couple of hours after dinner and after another brutal round of being raped by the black man, Jamal started feeling feverish, sick and with terrible body aches. He stumbled and almost fell down more than a few times, but I helped him up the stairs and into a bedroom with the medical equipment and the monitors. He was so dizzy he didn't complain when I pulled off his thong and got him into the bed. He passed out a few minutes after that.
The new black man spent the next two weeks in the hospital bed. He was delirious most of the time and moaned in pain when he wasn't tossing in an uneasy sleep. Whenever I could, I put cool washcloths over his eyes and rubbed that powerful dark-skinned body with alcohol to keep him cool. He was on a constant IV drip to keep him hydrated and healthy.
Then all of a sudden, it was over. I came into his room; he was awake and gave me a weak grin.
"Hey whiteboy... you wuz right... dis wuz da wors' ree-action Ah evva had. Ah still feelz weak, but Ah feelz good. Diff'rent. Betta."
I gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. "That DNA blurring packs a wallop. But now 'Jamal Collins' is a black man inside and out. There is no evidence whatsoever that 'Tommy Royce' ever existed."
His grin got wider. "Nice.... Ah wanna fuck yo' whiteboy ass..."
I chuckled. "You sound completely back to normal! But let's ease you back into regular activities, okay? You've been in bed for nearly fifteen days!"
* * *
Jamal bounced back quite quickly. He was hungry as a horse and divided his time between eating, lifting weights in the gym, running laps around the warehouse... and piston-fucking my ass every chance he got.
After a few more days, I gave him the thumbs-up to get back to his regular routines. The next morning after breakfast, he pulled me into a deep and (for him) soft kiss.
'T'anks for ev'rything, Zack. Ah woodn' be da reel black muthafucka Ah iz now wiffout you."
"Good luck, Jamal. 'Artglass' ." He blinked as I reset his persona and waved as he headed out the door.
"Ah'll be back fo' mo' ov your muscle-puppy white ass!"
I waved back and I turned away as a tear trickled down my cheek. Sometimes, I hate what I'm capable of - I don't think I'll ever see him again.
* * *
Ah gotz arrest'd two weekz later. Ah wuz inna bar 'round da corner frum mah place an' Ah wuz sweet-talkin' a whiteboy dat Ah knew wuz lookin' fo' summ deep-dickin' frum a musclebrutha. We wuz havin' drinkz an' laffin' when two copz bust'd inta da place an' slamm'd me onto da bar counter. Dey lift'd me up an' cuff'd me.
"Jamal Collins, you're under arrest for outstanding warrants, escape in the first degree from a correctional facility and being a fugitve from justice."
Ah gotz hustl'd inta a squad car an' brung to a po-lice stayshun. Ah wuz surpriz'd t'see Frank Jackson - da head CO at Attica - waitin' there. He gave me a reel nasty smile. "Jamal, you naughty boy! Shame on you for escaping! You're coming back with me and we're going to have to make an example of you." He turn'd to da copz dat brung me in. "Thanks, fellas, me and mine will take it from here."
Two mo' guardz toss'd me inta a prison van waitin' in da back of the stayshun; Frank came in back wiff me, pull'd da doorz shut an' bang'd on da front. Da truck start'd up an' the head CO crack'd his knucklez an' smil'd.
"You know, Jamal, we considered finding you a lost cause. If it hadn't been for your buddy Leon, we could have never arrested you. He's testifying at your new trial about all the thefts and drug operations you've been doing since you escaped - of course we had to give him immunity, but that won't really matter - the DA agreed that you're the one we wanted, not that little shit."
Ah curs'd unda mah breath. Fuckin' Leon. If'n Ah evva get out agin, Ah'm goin' to slice dat nigga inta pieces...
* * *
It wuz gettin' light by da time we gotz back to Attica. Ah gotz pull'd outta da van an' look'd at da gray buildins an' the high wallz - it wuz strange dat Ah felt home fo' da firs' time inna while.
Frank brung me in t'get strip-search'd - afta Ah wuz nekkid, him an' a bunch of guards cuff'd me ovva a table. Alla dem pull'd on vinyl glovez an' one ov dem lef' da room cummin' back wiff a big tub ov Crisco.
Da head screw rubb'd a big glob ov da white stuff ovva his glove.
"Welcome home, Jamal!" He shov'd hiz fist inta mah ass an' ground it inta mah gutz.
* * *
Alla da guardz in da room took turnz fistin' an' fuckin' mah ass. It hurt reel bad, but deep down, Ah lik'd it. It felt reel good t'have my hole torn open like dat. Once dey wuz finish'd, Ah gotz an orange jumpsuit an' wuz put in a solitary holdin' cell. Ah crawl'd onta da bunk an' pass'd out.
* * *
Sometime later, Ah woke up when da door open'd an' anotha CO came in. "Okay, 77134 - time to get you into your permanent cell. Hands out."
He cuff'd me tight an' we walked troo the prison till we gotz to da gen pop area. We went up a coupla flightz ov stairz an' we gotz to a new cell. Dere wuz a skinny l'il whiteboy alreaddy d'ere an' Ah gotz a scared look frum him when Ah gotz uncuff'd.
Da CO gave 'im a nasty grin. "Nicky, this is Jamal. I'm sure you two will have fun together." Da door slamm'd shut wiff a deep CLANG. Ah look'd at da whiteboy an' gave 'im a smile.
* * *
Ah start'd fuckin' Nicky right away. He wuz scar'd at firs' an' cried a lot, but like all whiteboyz, dis iz wat he need'd an' got used to takin' mah man-meat up hiz ass real quick.
Firs' few weekz went okay - Ah gotz familar wiff da prison routine agin - dat includ'd gettin' dragged off by da guardz t'be fuck'd an' fist'd whevva dey felt like it.
Ah also got ambush'd by a bunch of reel big musclebruthas. Dey sed dey was part ov da Bloodz an' dis wuz da 'Welcum Wagon' fo' new recruitz. Ah gotz dragg'd inta da commissary late an' five o' six ov dese massive niggaz wuz fillin' my holez fo' da whole nite. Near mo'nin', one ov Frank's guyz came in an' join'd da party. Afta he wuz dunn, Ah got dragg'd back t'mah cell.
Ah wuz in such bad shape afta dat sesshun, Ah hadda go to da prison infirmary. Ah wuz bleedin' bad an' da doctor hadda pack mah ass wiff gauze an' keep me on jus' water an' juice fo' a week. He wuz a young Latino wiff nice, dark hair. Even tho Ah coodna broke 'im in haff, he wuz alwayz reel gentle an' carin' to me - nevva treat'd me like a convict - Ah wuz someboddy dat need'd hiz help.
"Jamal, are you sure you don't want to report this? Please reconsider. Please. You were really torn up. I didn't know if you would actually bleed to death!" He strok'd mah face. "I don't want to have anything happen to you!"
"No, doc. Ah cain't. Even if'n Ah knew who fuck'd me dis bad, rattin' d'em out wood only make it worse. Ah wood git shank'd da nex' time." Ah rubb'd hiz crotch an' gave 'im a smile. "Ah'll be okay."
Da doctor wuz 'bout ta bend down an' give me a kiss when someboddy clear'd d'eir throat. He turn'd 'round an' a look ov relief cross'd hiz face. It wuz a CO, but not one Ah seen befor'. He wuzn' az big az Frank's crew, but he wuz built. A little grin cross'd hiz face.
"Carl? What are you doing here?"
"Hector, I'm here to take Jamal..." he nodd'd to me. "... there's been a cell reassignment since he was attacked."
Da doc acktually looked relieved. "Wonderful!" Ah stood up an' he gave me a hug. "Stay safe, Jamal!"
Da guard walked over to me, smile'd an' shook mah hand. "Hi Jamal, my name is Carl Vostrov. I'm sorry I have to do this, but put out your hands for me, please? Once you leave the infirmary, you have to be cuffed."
Ah wuz shock'd. No CO evva treat'd me dis way. Ah putz out mah handz an' he put onna pair ov cuffz. But he made shure dat dey wuzn' tight at all.
"Thanks for taking care of him, Hector... we'll see each other soon. C'mon Jamal..."
We lef' da infirmary an' head'd back inta the prison.
* * *
We gotz inta da courtyard an' we head'd to a diff'rent buildin' frum befo'.
"Where we goin', Carl?"
"You'll be staying in a newer wing of the prison. I think you'll find it a bit more enjoyable."
Dis guard wuz a reel strange one - 'enjoy'ble'?? Wat da fuq wuz he talkin' 'bout?
Dis new buildin' had five flo's - we took da stairz alla way to da top. Carl an' me made summ turnz an' arrived at anotha cell. The do' wuz open an' he uncuff'd mah handz. Sittin' on da lowwa bunk wuz a tann'd Latino bodybuilda covva'd in ink. Like me, he had hiz jumpsuit pull'd down 'around hiz waist. He gave both ov us a brite, happy smile. Ah cood tell d'ere wuz nothin' behind it - he wuz jus' glad to see bowff ov us.
"You're welcome, sir. Is there anything else you need at the moment?"
"Hmmm... Extra sheets and towels for Jamal, please."
It wuz strange seein' an ink'd-up Latino talk wiff a Russian accent. He sound'd sorta like Yvgeny, but wayyy mo' classy.
"Of course, sir. I'll be back shortly." He gave bowff ov us a nod an' left but he didn' lock da do'.
Da Latino stood up an' shook mah hand. "Hello, Jamal. I'm Ale Simonov. I am the man responsible for your cell reassignment. You will be staying with me."
Ah look'd at 'im like he wuz nutz. "Huh?"
He smiled again. "My father was the Vor v Zakone - the big boss - in the Russian mafia and raised me after my mother died. My mother's father was Don Diego Montoya Sánchez of the Valle Del Norte cartel in Columbia. So the Latin Kings here don't want to anger the Vorovskoy Mir syndicate and the Russians don't want to upset the Latinos, so I'm basically left alone since I'm considered criminal royalty. And none of the officers want to upset either group. And in particular, upset me."
Ah coodn' bee-leeve wat Ah wuz hearin'..."I was also informed how you were abused by some of the guards and by some of the UBN (United Blood Nation, ed.) cabrones. If you'd like, I can have them eliminated. Or castrated. Your choice."
He sed dat so light like it wuz nuthin' to him. "No, dat's... dat's okay. I kinda likez it ruff. Ah likez doin' da same shit to whiteboys, too. So's Ah cain't be complainin'. An' Ah likez gettin' fuck'd too - jus' not so hard Ah gotta go to da hospital."
Ale chuckl'd. "I see we share very similar interests, though I often do enjoy moments of gentler intimacy with the men closest to me."
"You're an extremely handsome man, Jamal... and I can tell you appreciate strenuous workouts as well - your physique is excellent. I believe I can plate you with at least 30 more pounds of muscle... you would carry it quite well... I have my own gym here."
Ale strok'd mah chest an' gavez me anotha' sweet smile. Ah smile'd back an' strok'd hiz face. Dayumm, Ah cain't bee-leeve dis iz happenin' t'me...
"I see we are going to get along splendidly. I'll tell Carl to make sure we have a good supply of Hyperlube on hand all the time."
Ah look'd confus'd "Da guard?"
He nodded. "He is more like my manservant, but that is a story for another time. Hector is also my personal physician." He pull'd me in fo' a gentle kiss.
He look'd at hiz watch. Fucckkk...Ah knew mah shit when it camez to menz watchez. Dat wuz a Patek Phillipe Grandmasta Chime - one of dem jus' sold fo' almos' thirty-two million dollas...
"The facilities will be serving dinner in about 15 minutes. Let us head down to the commissary." He sighed. "I try to follow the mealtime rules, but there are times that I wish to have a private dinner. Carl sees to that. I am sure the UBN gandony ("scum", ed.) will be shitting their pants when they see us together. He laff'd. "I would like to hear all about you, what you've done and why you are here. I'm certain you have the same sort of curiosity regarding me." He pull'd me inta hiz armz an' gave me a crushin' hug. "We shall have plenty of time to become well acquainted."
Ah start'd t'roll my jumpsuit back up, but Ale stopp'd me. "No need for that, amor... let us show off a bit, shall we? After all, if we have it, we should flaunt it."
Well, THIS story had been hanging around quite a long time as well! But the story outline itself was not as well developed as this final version.
In the original notes, Tommy was Converted and immediately incarcerated; in six months he became a massively tall and muscular black man. He refused to leave the prison and murdered someone just to assure a life sentence. After that, he was given the permanent control phrase to forget everything about his former life as a white cop and got the DNA blurring as part of a regular prison checkup.
I had created a number of AI images for the plot, but the consistency between them was less than desirable - I think that was also preventing me from working out the story completely. There are some issues here as well, but no where near as much.
I definitely like the way this turned out much better.
Please feel absolutely free to comment if I have messed up any of Jamal's dialogue and missed his lowlife patois - after eight years of nuns and four years of brothers for education, I find it extremely hard to misspell or use English improperly!
Finally... I will leave it up to the reader to determine if Captain Morgan (or perhaps Ariane Zutrovna) had any hand in arranging for the get-together between Jamal and Ale!
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