The sister smiled, and said "Against your will or not, that's the nature of the curse. None of us were black before we joined the Sisterhood. But afterwards, rerality seemed to change around us, and not only did we become black...but the world remembered us as always BEING black."
"Yeah, Lindsey..." said Masidon, looking a bit confused "...but...while I became a bit bustier and curvy, I didn't fill out like you did. What gives, Sisters?" she asked of the other girls. "And why is she talking like that?"
The first Sister stepped forward and said with a snear "Because Lindsey's a bigot. She doesn't think she is, but in the back of her mind...her opinion of black people is very low indeed. She was changed by the curse...but the curse drew its ideas for her change from her own mind."
"Don' yo be talkin' shit t' me likes dat, yo nigga' bitch!" Lindsay rasped, uncontrollably belligerent. As she raged, she shook her index finger in the air, cocked her hip to the side and swiveled her neck back and forth. This caused her stupendous new breasts - big as soccer balls - to bounce and jiggle. She didn't WANT to do these things, and in fact was trying NOT to do them...but they seemed to be hardwired into her mind.
The Sisterhood sighed and Madison stepped back from her, looking a little frightened. "Calm down, Lindsay."
She tried to calm down. It simply wasn't possible. "Don' yo be callin' me Lindsay, bitch! Ma name be 'Lawanda', an' I be sum sweet, brown suger! Ain't a bitch as hot as Lawanda, das right!" As she spoke, she strutted and thrust out her huge boobs, jiggling her swollen, shapely ass and wanting dearly to stop. Never very comfortable around black girls (her parents were very racist) she'd tried to join the Sisterhoood to get over her feelings about them...and had become a prisoner of her own subconcious beliefs. She snatched up the dress she'd removed, and found it had become a leopard-print, and after squeezing her generious curves into it, her big tits were shoveled out front and mashed-up to her collarbones. She was disgusted by the way it flaunted her huge, brown tits and swollen ass...but underthat, she KNEW she LOVED dressing like this now. Flauntin' her ass and tits fo' de brothas whut paid t' fuck her. She be all shakin' her stuff an' gettin' they dicks hard...
"NO!" she wailed in horror. "I ain' gonna be like dis! Yo' can't make me be like dis!"
"It's not us..." one of the Sisters said, shaking her head sadly. "...it's you. You've become your own creation, Lindsey. Your own personal self-fulfilling prophecy. You will do what you've been raised to think black girls do, and you'll do it for the rest of your life. Now go, and remember...it could have been worse."
She slipped her feet into six-inch, red steletto heels and touched up her thick makeup in a mirror that showed a strangers face. The face of a cartoon black slut - all thick lips, big nose, flashing gold teeth and eyes that begged men to fuck her - whose thick, black hair was a mass of weaves and extensions. Then, against her will, she strutted from the house of the Sisterhood and walked right up to a waiting cab. She tried to say something like "Take me to the Police!" or even give directions back to her dorm, but instead she told him to take her to a rundown part of town. The cab dropped her off in front of a sagging apartment building, and she found herself walking up to the door...and saw the name "Lawanda Jackson" on one of the mail boxes. She pulled the contents out, and found a Welfair check in her name, as well as some junk mail.
Wanting to cry as she noticed her 2-inch long, zebra striped nails, and went in side and up the stairs to the place she aparently lived now. Suprise. It was a dump. A rundown, ragged looking place with faded red carpet...and a massive fat girl sitting on a coach and watching television. She was as black as Lindsey, but unlike Lindsey...she was thickly obese, with a massive full belly and elephantine breasts that hung off either side of her belly. She looked up at her, and asked "I guess yo' be my new roommate, huh? Yo' tried t' join de Sista'hood? So did I, 'cept dose bitches didn' tell meh 'bout whut I'd become. I usa be Buffy Willingham, but now I's Beaulah Washington..." the obese black girl lit a cigarette and offered one to her. Newports. She didn't want one, but she accepted it and took a light. It tasted great.
Lawanda (no, that wasn't her name!) walked away from the huge girl, and into a room that she knew was hers now. A room with tattered red carpet and wallpaper, and a huge bed. The floor was strewn with magizines of naked black men (her camel toe started to moisten, and she moaned), sex toys...and on her bed was an envelope, addressed to "Lawanda".
She opened it, and read "Everyone has a choice, Lawanda. You'll never be white again, but if you try hard you might just work off the bad karma that made you what you are now. If you don't, your natural tastes will lead you deeper into the gutter."
What the fuck was THAT supposed to mean?
Lawanda decides to try and find a job.
Lawandas phone rings...and it seems to be her boyfriend! "Lindsey? Is that you?"
Lawandas can't fight her new urges. She surrenders and sinks into her new life.
Lawanda decides to talk to Beaulah.
Lawanda isn't going to take this shit! She calls for a cab and marches right back to the Sisterhood, waving the letter in their faces and demanding who the hell they think they are to judge her!
Something Else
Mon Jun 04 12:53:07 2012