English Hospitality.

 Tom and Jessica quickly unlocked the door. They winced as the heavy rain pounded on the coat Tom was holding above them. They had rented this friendly looking cottage with an old kennel outside for three days, and they had only gotten two good days out of it.

“Get that fireplace on, bloody hell.” Tom laughed.

“I think that fireplace might gas us out.” Jessica tutted

“Probably, lying landlord piece of shite.” Tom said while hanging up his coat.

 

Tom was deep into reading a book on the latest database practices when he heard a pounding at the door.

“Are you kidding me? All the way out here.” He stormed over and yanked open the door.

“Hello, just looking for shelter.” The skeletal man had a noticeable farmery accent, he thought that had gone extinct. His face seemed to have a thick layer of dirt, like he had just dug his way out of a landslide or something.

“Slow down there mate, me and my girlfriend have busy lives in Bristol, and this is our only alone time.” He shrugged.

“Please lad. This is the middle of Devon, there is nowhere else to go.” He said. Tom just scoffed at him.

“Listen, I’m sure if you keep walking there is a town ten miles or so away. How did you get here anyway?”

“I’m just an old man…” His hazel eyes seem to pierce right through him… or weren’t they a different colour before?

 “Ok, well, it’s just not my style to have tea and biscuits with un-showered old men.” He folded his arms.

“Perhaps some food?”

He shook his head. “Err… maybe you should have thought about that before going on a walk mate?”

The old man looked passed him at Jessica who was popping her head around the corner. He gave her a pitiful look.

 “And the kennel? “ The man’s face darkened.

“Come on Tom, what if he dies out in the cold?” She said with exasperation.

“Oh he’ll find somewhere else. If he’s desperate enough he will.” The man seemed to be ready to speak again but Tom made a pinching gesture with his hand.

“No, no.  You’re getting on my wick now. Time for you to clear off. If I catch you hanging around I’ll call the police alright?.” He made a shooing motion with his right hand.

“Very well. I gave you more than one chance. You are no longer welcome here.” The old man sounded grave. He stared directly into his eyes. Tom swore he saw a flash as the man raised his hand and then swiped it down.

“Threatening me now huh? Get lost, fucking arsehole.” He slammed the door on the old man and pointed back at the doorway.

 

“The cheek of him.” Tom laughed.

“Tom.. what if he dies or gets maimed out there? There are crags, holes on the moors… and it’s windy. If something happens… the family could get the police involved.”

Tom walked over to her and gently brushed her cheek. “None of our business. This is England, we have a right to peace and quiet. Now go settle down love.” She sighed and bowed her head slightly.

 

Tom was falling asleep when he heard a piercing scream from the bathroom. He scrambled up and saw  Jessica walking out in a daze. In her hands were several clumps of her curly blonde hair. He saw her skin ripple and squirm as she began to metamorphosis. She fell onto the sofa nearby and let out a hellish shriek.

 

Her whole body quaked as bones broke and resealed together.  Ligaments tore and fat vanished from her arse and thighs. She put on inch after inch of height, as her skin stretched to accommodate more and more hard muscle. She felt her abdomen spasm as compact muscle emerged. Her pulse throbbed at points all over her body, as her growing heart started to beat faster and harder. Soon she had the face of a pretty white woman on a bulky body, that was slowly becoming bronzer and bronzer. Her skin drenched with sweat and new natural male oils.

 

She stood up and tried to make her way towards her loved one. She whimpered with fear as her nose began to crack, its profile growing larger and longer. Snaps and banging inside her own skull left her deafened and unable to think. Her forehead swelled up on one side while millimetres of bone were being reconstructed. Her soft thin skin soon looked thicker and more weathered. She felt cold nausea. Something… it was like something was pushing out of her vagina. It was so unnatural. She heard a male voice speaking a foreign language in her mind. Do not be afraid. This is good, being a real man will be good. She shook her head, she didn’t want to be this.

 

Until now, Tom had looked on frozen in horror. Tom ran over to help but she pushed him away with one misshapen arm.  She cursed at him in some kind of harsh sounding language.  He watched as her lips thinned and her eyebrows got bushier. She had a crewcut like a man. Her nose… fucking hell, she looked like a desert tribesman. A ripping pain in his muscles made him scream. He fell into a heap on the floor as his body contorted and limbs audibly snapped. Bones shortened to a length better suited to a young woman. Each snap was accompanied by another scream. His pelvic bone and femurs began to change degrees and rotated forward. 

 

His skin burned as it tanned into a golden hue. It started around his crotch, then spread up to his chest and face. Piece by piece his White Anglo-Saxon heritage was being replaced by one foreign to the isles.

 

Inside Jessica’s body, her womb and birth canal began to close up and her eggs died off. Liquid and fluid spilled out of her vagina, as Jessica’s clit engorged to the size of a thumb, she felt… she felt power. Intoxicating misogynistic dominant thoughts took hold of her mind. She was twenty-seven, and had only just been promoted to a low-level manager. Now she realised they were right to do that, to impede her. Women shouldn’t be in charge of anything, they should be seen not heard. A woman could be her property now, a simple transaction could be made and they woul-uhhh—be- hiiissss.

“This is a gift… a gift… from Allah! He is unburdening me of my weaknesssss!” She groaned in ecstasy as a foreskin began to wrap around the once clit. Some sensation spread into the nerves at the tip, leaving her weak at the knees. She grunted from deep in her chest as a dark brown sack pushed out from her pussy, sealing it behind. They dangled beneath nicely.  Wispy hair began to grow out of her chest and armpits. Thin liquid dribbled out of the head of the small cock. She tilted her head as she stared at it on the floor. Her mental fog seemed to clear for a moment. No, please no, what is wrong with me! I’m a man, I’m a big disgusting man. I don't want to be a man. Why is my skin so dark? . I didn't grow up liking this. I'm becoming a foreigner. I can feel myself turning into someone else. My head.... oh... get out of me. GET OUT OF ME! These thoughts are so barbaric, so sexist. Days playing dressing up, sweet moments kissing boys, summers playing badmington. All of it was disappearing from her mind.

 

Tom flipped onto his back as he felt an agonizing pressure in his chest. His nipples felt so raw and chafed, he needed to rub them right now. He tried to soothe them, but they became even more maddeningly sensitive. They turned chocolate brown, then elongated and thickened, the areolae around growing into perfect circles. Milk ducts began to open and secrete from all the stimulation. His penis began to spark with erotic pain, the whole of it taking on a red irritated colour. He tried to touch it, to relieve it, he rubbed, but it tore and dripped blood.

 

As she saw the tits growing out of her former boyfriend, excitement built in Jessica’s stomach. The new appendage grew longer and harder. She started to stroke it violently. She groaned in an increasingly deeper voice, her vocal chords twitching and thickening. Excellent, this person would soon be his wife and his property. But… no…wasn’t this his boyfriend? They were equals weren’t they? His long brown cock hardened even more as his balls and sack increased in size. Hundreds of black hairs sprouted from them making him itch. The hair on his chest and armpits got thicker and more numerous. The roots of rough facial hair also sprouted on her much heavier jawline.

 

The now warm environment in his crotch gave the sperm inside the signal to grow. Within seconds they were full of the seed of a young Saudi man. He felt real sensitive feeling spread through the shaft.  He could feel the tenseness in the tissue of his cock. His زبّ! It belonged to him now, he had the fucking shaft and balls. How could they be equals? He had a cock and she had nothing. Her duty was to provide him with babies. Nothing in this world he didn’t allow her to borrow from him. She pumped and pumped even harder, then an explosive strike at the tip of the new penis made him roar in pleasure. He just came for the first time. A wet sloppy sound followed his moans of pleasure.

 

Tom tried to stand and stumble all the way into the living room. The world looked so much smaller. Body hair trickled behind him onto the carpet as it fell off his body.He looked down at the huge mounds on his chest and began to sob. He cried out as his nose instantly broke. Blood poured out of it as the rest of his face changed, his nose healed into a daintier but sharper shape. His eyes widened, his brow boldened, and his cheekbones became prominent. He looked at the olive skin tone of his smaller hands and digits and gasped. He looked like a bloody Arab. What is fucking happening to them? Why did he deser- he screeched at another burst of pain. Tits, fuck, shit, I don’t deserve this!

 

He panted deeply as he recovered from the transformation. Where once was a petite pale English blonde, stood a well-muscled swarthy Arab. Her mind was still slowly developing into Qadir’s. He remembered growing up seeing images on TV of American and British 'peacekeepers' in the Middle-East.  He remembered growing up in a Middle-Class Saudi family. A good pious family. He felt indignation, indignation that he had once been a female. Indignation at being starved of power and a normal life. He felt his morals change, the sheltered life as a pretty blonde now replaced with a one where cutting the head off a murderer seemed common place. Where money and tradition was all that mattered.

 

That he had painted himself up like a bitch. He couldn’t believe he would allow himself to be used and penetrated. That he had been reliant on a man’s protection. He baulked at the disgusting memories of sucking cock, of allowing that liquid into his mouth. Thank Allah for this new body. Allah has shown mercy to him be freeing him from that prison of soft flesh. He wanted revenge and he would start by filling his former ‘boyfriend’ up. He tensed and flexed his powerful new muscles, then looked predatorily through the doorway.

 

Tom fell against a wall as his hair began to turn into a thick soft mane, his ginger hair becoming midnight black, while his eyes became blackish-brown. His eyeslashes grew longer and divine. He grabbed strands of the hair and gasped. He fell onto all fours and groaned as his ass grew fuller and fuller. He could feel the weight in it, along with the two alien growths hanging from his chest. These were the signs of his bondage, part of what made him a woman. They made him a slave to men. They removed him from the opportunity of leadership. Who would take him seriously with a pair of tits? He felt a dire depressive pain deep in his core. He knew better, that women should have some right to their own decisions, but a new sweet and intensifying voice told him that women had no rights. That he shouldn’t think dangerous thoughts and that was his lot in life. If a man speaks then you must be silent.

 

“I want you habibi.” He heard a roar behind him shouting in a language he knew wasn’t his own, but he could understand.

 

Tom began to crawl away frantically, but he kept stalling as intense orgasmic spews of cum from his shrinking cock weakened his limbs. Eventually nothing was coming out at all. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he felt his clit-like penis and withered softened scrotum being drawn up into his body. The skin split and peeled back as it became the lower lips, and the flaccid wasted micro-penis became her new clitoris. His now black public hair became minimal and waxed. A perfect unplucked Muslim flower.

 

 

 

The newly born Qadir grinned as he saw her body finish changing. His lustful gaze focused on her full tits. Tom froze with fear and then tried to quick crawl away again.

“Where are you going my honeymelon?”

 He lept onto her like an animal. He dragged her by the legs backwards then pulled her head up by her hair. He took two fingers and began to roughly rub her pussy lips. Tom’s eyes widened in shock he struggled every which way at first, like a fish on a hook. Then his husba-no… this… this fucking rapist. He shoved his fingers in and out. Tom was losing control from the stimulation, his head lolling to one side. His mind began to fill with eager encouragements. It was so dirty and obscene, but he wanted Qadir to penetrate him. To ram his dick in her mouth so she could swallow an enormous load. To kneel down on all fours as he took her from behind. She wanted to have his babies!

 

Qadir wrapped his rough hands around her tits and began to squeeze. Then he took one lone brown nipple and toyed with it.  Tom’s moans were changing in tone and manner. Not only becoming more feminine, but also gaining the harshness of an Arabic accent. The grammar and order of his thoughts changed imperceptibly too.

 

“I can’t wait until you are making milk, feeding my son with these tits. My little Muslimah.” He said in Najdi Arabic. He grabbed Tom’s ass and then plunged his thick cock inside of her pussy. She was still dry, but that was fine, it didn’t matter. She just needs a bit of encouragement to get wet for him.

 

Tom felt panic like he never had before in his life. M-milk? Feeding? This can’t be happening. He was a man. He was a white man, not a beaten Muslim woman. He was more than a pair of tits. He went to a good Uni and… and.. he screamed as he felt something filling up his insides. No.. no no no, he had a dick inside him! A man is fucking inside of me, he’s touching my insides! Every bump and ridge. I can feel all of it. Allah, allah. Each thrust rocked his small feeble body. She felt so dominated.  She was a beautiful and desired fertility goddess now, not a man.

 

Qadir could wait no longer; he began to buck his wife. She was pleading in gibberish that sounded like English. When did she learn that? He needed to fuck some sense into her.

“Please, you can’t do thi-“ His voice caught hard in his throat, he could only manage a croaking agonized choking sound, then a fluent string of guttural Arabic words flew out.” ساعدني”

 

“Ya rab.” He gasped as the cock roughly struck his clit. Was it wrong to feel such pleasure? He pursed his new thick lips and moaned. He was frightened, but now simultaneously in a state of excitement.

Soon though his thoughts turned to such things as his new place in life. His place as a faithful pious Arab woman. No matter what her husband did beind her back. Instead of evenings drinking beer with friends at the pub or watching TV. His mind was filled with moments in the Mosque, gossiping with other faithful women, or hundreds of evenings in silence. A more spartan existence. . A Muslim woman at the home, in the hijab. A woman named… Zaina.

I am being turned into a slave.

No! the prophet freed women. A woman of Islam has a life of purpose and spirituality, and freedom. Not like the decadent women of the West! Muhammad was a genius and a protector. All was foreseen, all is taken into account, all is covered. The niqab protects the woman from the lust of men.  Those… urgh…those women who go outside without hijab and with make-up will go to hell. It is haram! Haram!

 

The foundations of science and mathematics now seemed ludicrous to his disintegrated level of education. He no longer had memories that would have gave him the skills to criticise his upbringing, or the system in which he lived. Islam was her code and all that mattered.

 

His parents forgot they ever had a red-haired boy with a knack for computers. The Master’s degree in Database Management on Tom’s wall back home disappeared. Such things were not useful for running a family.  A new feeling ruled over her now… tranquillity. The peace and presence of Islam. Zaina was all that remained of that once ‘educated’ arrogant man. She resigned herself to quiet moaning, as a feeling of submissiveness took hold of her. She was not afraid of her rightful husband. She welcomed his lovemaking.She wanted to be a good wife. She wanted his baby right now, inshallah!

 

Qadir laughed with joy as he fired a full load into her.  She was blessed with her first womanly orgasm, as her vagina, thighs, tits and ass all tingled with pleasure.

“Allah allah allah. So much my love. How long since we made love like that?” She looked at him lovingly while twirling her hair.

“Being around these Christians has made me all pent up I suppose. I can keep going.” Qadir grinned.

Qadir and Zaina made passionate love all night. She took every position her husband commanded her to. From behind and on the side, on her back and coiled around him. She hoped they could make their first child soon, by Allah’s grace.

 

 

 

Zaina waited patiently in morning dew, now wearing a hijab. She stayed voiceless until her man instructed her to speak.

“We will need to find time to pray again before the flight. Keep your eyes open for a private spot.” Qadir said.

“Yes my husband.” Mr and Mrs Al-Khassar were due to leave Britain soon, and they weren’t too displeased about that. The British had treated them poorly, they were ungodly people who accused them of being terrorists and intruders. The elderly looked down on them and whispered behind their back. Zaina had been anxious from the moment she set foot among them.

 

 She got into the car and sat with her hands on her lap. She felt a hard pain in her eyes as they approached the airport. A desperate call from a former life echoed in her mind. Get out, run into the city and don’t look back. She shook as her hand moved towards the handle, then turned back to her husband. She sighed, how would she survive without him? She chastised herself for these foolish impulses. No, this was quaint, but it was time to go back to where they belonged. This place disgusted her. Time to return to Riyadh, and that was where she’d spend the rest of her life. They weren’t wanted here after all.