A Decent Japanese Female
It was 7:00 AM, and class began at 8:00, so naturally, Becca had to stop at Starbucks on her way there. Her friends would always be jealous when she showed up to class with one. She had tied her long, strawberry blonde hair into a cute ponytail and left her parents' house without a care in the world. Men always noticed her because of her hair, but she believed her true charm was her low-cut top. She had transferred from her previous high school where all the students had to wear a gaudy uniform with a bow and skirt. The skirt was nice, but the jacket and bow were too restrictive - Becca's body needed to breathe. Her friends at school showed off their assets just like she did, but Becca thought they knew she had the best.
Her 'Sweet 16' 2022 Toyota Mirai pulled into the Starbucks parking lot. Becca sighed, "That thing is two years old now. I hope my dad is saving for a new car for my 19th birthday or else I'm in deep trouble!" She continued on her way inside as graduation was only a month away, and she felt confident that her parents had something special planned because her Instagram followers wouldn't grow just because of her looks.
As expected, the counter had a long line of people waiting. Most of them were students like her, but Becca knew she could charm her way out of being late. She had already slept with at least three of her teachers, but Mr. Lane was a challenge.
The line moved slowly, and the workers seemed like they had their heads chopped off. "Poor guys," Becca thought. Her parents had always supported her financially, and she could see that this was for the best, considering the chaos at Starbucks. After 30 minutes, Becca finally reached the front of the line. The angry-looking manager was still taking orders, and Becca knew he wanted nothing more than to hit her. But she was who she was - a master at manipulating men.
"Finally!" Becca proclaimed loudly, exclaiming "all eyes on me" in a way that made her sound like a Karen. The manager didn't respond to her taunting, keeping his expression as hard as ever.
"Sorry for that. What would you like to order?" he asked calmly, though his face showed his anger. Becca brushed her hair back and put it on her hip, a movement her mother had taught her.
"Did you even see how long I've been waiting? The owner or manager or whatever should give me a discount or something!" she said.
The manager frowned, but didn't respond to her demand. Becca loved that she could be rude and get away with it. It was surprisingly easy to bend men to her will. Though she had no reason to interact with him again, she still found it satisfying.
"Hmm hm hm~" Becca hummed, happy to be a rude jerk. The Barista called her name and placed her hot chocolate on the counter. It was quicker than she expected. "They probably expedited my order since I caused a scene," she thought.
"Also," the barista called out as Becca picked up her hot chocolate. "We're going to give you a discount. Please come with me to the back." Becca was shocked that he had given in to her demands.
She was used to getting what she wanted through rude behavior. And she didn't mind that her hot chocolate was taking so long, it gave her the chance to stir up more trouble. "Well, that didn't take long," she thought. The barista led her to the kitchen, and Becca couldn't believe that she had achieved her goal. Men were such easy targets for manipulation.
She couldn't wait to show off her accomplishment to her friends. Maybe now her Instagram followers would grow.
Instead of leading her to a manager's office, the barista guided her to a simple white room with an envelope resting on a low-cost table. "Here's your payment," she said, leaving with the door open.
Becca became curious, wondering what type of compensation was inside that envelope in such a secluded place. She placed her drink down and opened up the envelope.
Dear [Insert Name],
We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.
Within this envelope, you will find $69.69 as compensation.
Please rest assured that next time you visit, we'll make sure our practices meet your high expectations.
"Huh? There's no money in the envelope? Oh shit, I'm leaving!" Becca quickly stood up and turned around, only to come face to face with the furious Japanese manager. "What the hell is this? Get out of my way!" She tried to push him aside but he firmly held her back using just one powerful arm. "Ouch!" She complained, but he remained unbothered. He gradually moved closer to her, and the door closed with a sharp click. Becca heard the barista's voice from outside, mocking her with a grin and a raised middle finger.
The door was now securely locked, and Becca was still clueless about the situation.
"Hey, you need to let me go!" She yelled at the guy in an attempt to take control of the escalating situation. "Let me go now!" Again, she tried to break free but couldn't manage it.
"I fucking hate all of you white girls." He suddenly shouted. His eyes fixated on Becca like she was an irritating fly. "All of you come in day after day and trash my crew and me, and we're sick of it. Enough is enough. You'll be punished. You'll learn."
What was he ranting about? Becca wasn't even that rude, she didn't think.
"White girls are bad, but blondies are worse." He continued, his voice dripping with disdain. "None of you have even a brain cell to rub together. You're at a school, too? How pathetic. A good Japanese girl would've arrived half an hour early and sat there properly at her desk. They're so much better behaved than a common slut like you." He spat the words out. His anger was practically palpable, and Becca realized the dire situation she was in.
"You... You better not do anything!" She yelled at the top of her lungs and reached into her pocket to grab her phone. "I'll call the cops! Or worse, my parents!"
"SHUT UP!" The manager bellowed. In a swift move, he snatched her phone and hurled it against the wall. It shattered instantly.
Becca gasped, "What the fuck bro???" She exclaimed. That was an iPhone 15+2=30! How could a broke dude like you afford it?
"I don't care. You'll be changed," he said. Becca felt a chill run down her spine. What did he mean by "changed"?
"You... You're not gonna' kill me, are you?" She questioned, feeling genuinely afraid for the first time that day. Yeah, she liked playing around, but the idea of dying because of it was horrifying.
The manager laughed. "No. Something even better," he replied. With that, he released Becca from his grasp and she hurriedly moved away from him.
"Please remove your clothing," he demanded.
Becca froze in terror. "I'm not...," she couldn't finish her sentence. The manager's patience had run out. She was wearing a simple tank top and shorts. Her lacey pink bra could be seen through her shirt, something she was still proud of.
"You're like a used toy," the manager stated, gazing at Becca with an evil look in his eyes. "I'll make you learn."
Becca pressed herself against the wall. "Get away..."
The manager was right in front of her, and his height now seemed even more imposing. The atmosphere in the room had changed, and Becca felt genuinely terrified. Her chest, which was surgically enhanced, came close to scraping against the manager. She couldn't force herself to raise her head to meet his gaze. She saw her broken phone out of the corner of her eye, and the fear in her stomach grew deeper. What would he do to her?
For years, Mr. Hajime had been held back by women like the one in front of him. They had left him nothing but a man desperate to change the things they made rotten - their privileged whiteness.
Finally, Mr. Hajime was able to act. He reached out and grabbed the bottom of Becca's tank top, causing her to let out a frightened cry. "You may be frightened now," he said, "But once I'm done with you, you'll be the one with gratitude. You're the one who pushed me beyond my limits." As quickly as lightning struck, Mr. Hajime pulled Becca's top up and off, narrowly missing her earrings and ponytail. Becca kept her face towards the floor as much as possible and her eyes filled with tears. "You should have removed your clothing when I instructed you." His voice was cold and filled with hatred. This made it clear to Becca what his intentions were.
"I'm not going to rape you," said Mr. Hajime.
This caught Becca off guard, and she felt compelled to look up. "You're not?" Maybe she believed he only intended to scare her, which was absurd to him. He would never waste his body on someone like that, nor risk his livelihood if she ever went public with the story.
"No. I'm going to transform you." To drive the point home, Mr. Hajime's other hand tore off Becca's bra. Becca screamed in terror but no one in Starbucks was there to help a white girl like her. The top half of her body was now exposed, but her large breasts didn't excite him in the slightest. On the contrary, they were a disgusting reminder of how she carried herself and treated him. He tossed the bra aside and it landed on top of her discarded shirt, creating a small mountain of expensive clothing in the room. "First, your body will be changed, then your clothes."
White girls were exceedingly dull, and Mr. Hajime knew it. This was evident from the befuddled expression on Becca's face. Still, his penis was starting to grow hard. This was for the person she would become, not him.
Becca's whimpers fell on deaf ears as Mr. Hajime forced his hands between Becca's bare waist and panties and, without hesitation, yanked them and her shorts down to her ankles. Becca was too stunned to speak. He kneeled without saying a word and forced both of Becca's ankles back one by one. He exerted so much authority and control over her that it was hard to believe their encounter from ten minutes ago even happened. He tossed them onto the pile too and stood up. There wasn't enough space between them to slide a piece of paper in between them.
Becca's head was back to the floor, and she was completely silent. There was no defiance, no taunts, no remarks. A perfect silence, as if she was simply a scared girl awaiting punishment.
This brought a sense of satisfaction to Mr. Hajime.
She was completely naked now, allowing him to get a good look at her. Becca's completely shaved pussy made him even happier that her transformation was on the brink of happening.
He cleared his throat.
But Becca didn't react.
He cleared his throat again.
Becca still didn't react.
"LOOK." Mr. Hajime forcefully raised Becca's chin.
"I used to wonder, day after day, why I tolerated girls like you," he said, his voice growing more shaky with anger. "Rude. Vapid. Greedy. Slutty. I could list so many more things." His voice became even more bitter as his rage ignited once more.
"Your body," he said, biting each word like he was chewing on them, "is excessive, used, and leered at. A Japanese woman's body and spirit is delicate, slender, and beautiful."
As he spoke, Becca's physique started to change. Her overly perky D cups shrank until they were more natural to her back. "No! Please no..." Becca begged, but Mr. Hajime wouldn't let her look away from his face. She could feel her posture naturally straighten. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but Mr. Hajime was only getting started.
"Your pubic hair is shaved unnaturally. A Japanese woman keeps hers naturally trimmed and tempting to her one partner." Her pubic hair began to grow back at a moderate pace, just enough to look natural without looking like a mess. It was just enough to pique the curiosity of a Japanese man. [
Mr. Hajime was working on somewhat of a transformation on his pet project, Becca. Her backside was slimming down, just like that of a lovely Japanese girl would. After that, Mr. Hajime placed his hand on Becca's crown. "Your body's nearly finished, dear. Yet, your head and mind are fighting against it," he whispered to her. "That won't do." He intertwined his digits within her blonde hair, not weaving through her ponytail. "A truly Japanese woman wouldn't do such a thing," he stated. "You'll learn, my dear."
Becca trembled. From Mr. Hajime's touch, her hair's color seeped away and dripped down in a haemorrhaging fashion. The blinding sunshine yellow that she bragged to anyone and everyone about vanished before their eyes.
To Becca's dismay and Mr. Hajime's delight.
"No more - PLEASE, sir." Becca pleaded, but Mr. Hajime had already gone too far.
"Now it's time for you to become a good Japanese woman. Yes, you resemble one now, but you must think like one," he guided calmly.
Becca cannot command herself to keep her eyes open. Her features morphed, becoming more Asian while keeping its refined and snow-white exterior. Her eyes and cheekbones transformed into distinctly Asian indicators, bringing Mr. Hajime intense delight. "YES...yes! Your mind will be next. Forget being white, forget your old, vile ways," He could not hide his excitement in his tone.
Becca fell silent, as Mr. Hajime had predicted. Right now, he stood before a broken, submissive girl who emanated a whisper-soft aura of complete submission. The agonizing journey he'd endured over the years was all worth it, very worth it. However, he pondered how to name this girl now. The casual white name the barista had designated to her before wouldn't possess the same presence or beauty as her new Japanese identity.
In Becca's mind, she was being cleansed with each crashing wave, erasing all aspects of her terrible persona.
A good Japanese girl
That was the role Mr. Hajime wished for her to take on. She already appeared as a Japanese woman, so shouldn't she also think like one?
Becca wouldn't put up much of a fight, he figured out.
What to do about her old memories, however, remained a question. Should he let her keep them, but have her view them as her previous, worse self? Or should he erase them altogether?
THIS was a conundrum that Mr. Hajime wouldn't afford to overlook.
"Say farewell to your bitchy ways VIVIDLY!!!"
Heh. It'd be suicide to leave her with the ability to connect with her previous life. That was a danger Mr. Hajime couldn't dare to take on.
Within Becca's mind, she was now fully created. Memories of her working at Starbucks from her beginnings as a homeless teen and the kindhearted Mr. Hajime helping her flashed into existence. She was eternally thankful to him now. Completing his work, Mr. Hajime triggered Becca's eyes to open.
Without uttering a single word, she gazed up at her adored Mr. Hajime.
"Let's exchange your discarded attire with something more fitting, Minori."
"Of course, sir!"
Read also:
- Natural Attraction: Part 1
- Spellbound Panties
- Bestow favour upon you
- Relaxing on the Shore: A Life of Leisure
Source: www.nice-escort.de
