Ragdoll Ch. 12

Time date: 10:13:06, 11 June, 2059

Location: Chalis Covert Operations Command Center, Mission Planning Room B3SL2

Violet was seated in a conference room, surrounded by twelve other individuals of varied form and purpose. The only one who she recognized was Director Brentwood.

"Well, not Director any longer but rather CFO," Violet thought.

Victoria was not present.

All eyes were on Violet.

This was Violet's first visit to the Ops facility at Chalis. The brothels and sex clubs were her home turf, though she had always been a bit curious about Ops. This is where Jos worked, or served. His obligation was close to the same duration as Violet's obligation. They were both required to serve for roughly eleven years. They were at the six year mark. Violet had just turned thirty years old.

The distinguished looking man who had introduced himself as Tactical Director Archer looked ready to continue speaking.

A woman, likely a medical scientist if anything could be judged from the white lab coat she wore, had touched his sleeve lightly a moment past, triggering him to pause, lean down to her, listen, and then stand straight again. The woman turned her full attention back to focus on Violet.

Violet glanced to Brentwood. She judged his expression. Her read was that Brentwood was trying to convey both support, and a warning that this was a very serious matter under discussion.

Archer resumed the brief. He looked directly at Violet, again.

"In a previous interview, you indicated that you could kill someone if you knew that they were truly wicked, and that by doing so, you would save others from pain, suffering, and even death. Do you recall?" Archer asked.

"Yes," Violet replied.

"Do you still hold to this position?" he inquired.

"Yes, I do," Violet responded.

"Excellent," Archer said.

"That is exactly what we wish you to do. Kill someone," he finished.

Violet's expression registered some level of shocked surprise, but she kept her composure, and her eyes never left Archer's face.

Archer leaned forward, placing both hands, palms down, on the conference room table.

"After we inform you with specifics, if you agree to proceed, you will begin extensive training in several areas. You will engage in various simulations, and you will need to undergo certain procedures. For now, these are the key facts: A brutal crime lord has risen to power over the past few years in a region in Central Africa. He has killed hundreds of men, women, and, sadly, indirectly, children. The local people under his thrall live in abject fear, and now there are rumors that he is trying to purchase a large stock of assault weapons on the black market," Archer finished.

After a brief dramatic pause, Archer continued speaking.

"We have accepted an extremely high value contract to terminate him," he said.

Violet frowned. "Why me?" she asked.

"I mean, I doubt I could win a fight against most of the girls I know, and I have never even held a gun," she said.

"We are looking at using a delayed action poison, and subtle ways to administer it. You would need to get close, intrigue him, seduce him, sleep with him, either as his girlfriend or as one of his whores," Archer said.

Violet noticed a few of the men shift in their chairs.

Archer glanced aside at the same woman in a lab coat to whom he had spoken previously.

"Nicole, will you take this next part?" he asked.

"Uh, yes, certainly," Nicole replied.

Nicole looked at Violet.

"Let me begin," Nicole said.

"We call him Reaper. I know, overused, but it works."

"He is amoral, ruthless, and highly intelligent."

"He is white, of Western European descent, forty-one years old."

"Drugs, prostitution, gambling, piracy, theft. You name it - he has his hands in it."

"He maintains heavy security. He is extremely cautious, and rarely leaves his compound, relying on his lieutenants to extend his reach."

"He likes his women. They are perhaps his one weakness. This is what we hope to leverage."

"The key detail here is that while he, himself, is white, he finds white women to be distasteful. Black is where it's at for him."

"Violet, if we deploy you as you are, you would never get close to him. You would either be given to his men, those of lowest rank and file, or perhaps simply killed. As I said, he is cautious, and he would be suspicious of you because you do not belong. There have been multiple previous attempts on his life," Nicole added.

"Are you with me so far?" she asked.

"Yes," Violet said.

"But, I'm not seeing how I fit in here," Violet responded.

"You will," Nicole replied.

"Let me continue. We have run simulations with every sex worker active at Chalis - thirty seven runs to be precise. The models show that if we deploy you, the average probability of success is ninety-six percent. Probability of success with the girl who is our next best option, behind you, falls to seventy-four percent. We send you or we send no one, but, we cannot send you as you are," she finished.

"What do you mean?" Violet asked.

"You need to be black," Nicole replied.

"Wait, what? Can you even do that?" Violet questioned.

"We can," Nicole replied.

"It's not nearly as complex as our gender procedure. In simplified terms, we would use stem cells from a person who is of native black African descent and combine with one of our designer viruses. We sedate, introduce the combination into your system, and let mother nature do the rest. It takes about eight days. You would be under constant care for the duration. The DNA of your skin cells would essentially be rewritten. The process would not alter the structure of your appearance however, so we would need to perform some cosmetic surgery on your face, to give you a more natural African look," she explained.

"Oh, and we would dye your hair black of course," she added.

Archer chimed in.

"We cannot make you do this. Unlike your obligation to sex work which still runs for, what, another five years, this decision is yours to make. There is significant risk, but as explained, there is also a high probability of success," Archer stated.

Brentwood watched Violet, knowing she was processing everything.

"Does it hurt the stem cell donor?" Violet asked.

"No, we gather small amounts of skin and soft tissue from the donors waist and hips, and then produce the needed stem cells. It's relatively simple and there is a quick recovery," Nicole replied.

"Can you change me back?" Violet asked.

There was silence in the room for a moment.

"No, it's permanent," Nicole said.

"I see," Violet responded.

"What about the social aspects, like cultural appropriation? I would not wish to offend anyone," Violet said.

"We know you have no bias or prejudice in any regard, except toward those who intentionally seek to harm, across a broad spectrum," Archer replied.

"Look, we have someone we would like you to meet," he said.

Archer signaled to an aide who until now had been standing watch by the conference room door.

The aide stepped outside of the room for a moment. When he returned, he escorted a stunningly beautiful young black woman before him.

The young woman glanced around the room as if looking for a specific someone. Her search stopped when her gaze fell upon Violet. The young woman seemed anxious, or perhaps excited, yet shy of those around her.

"This is Subira," Archer said.

"Until a few weeks past, she lived with her parents in a small village under Reaper's iron fist. Her parents are dead now, as are many of her friends, at the hands of Reaper and his men. We are sponsoring her, and have provided her with a small apartment and adequate financial support so that she can pursue an education here in this country. We are not grooming her for sex work. That's not how we operate. In return, she is providing us with detailed information on Reaper's activities and on the local region where she was born and raised," he said.

"Subira understands what we want to do here, and she has freely offered her stem cells for the procedure. She wanted to meet you, and I suspect that she would also like a friend," he said.

"Ten minute break time all. Everyone out of the room, except Violet and Subira. Let's give them a few minutes alone to talk," he finished.

A moment later, Violet and Subira were alone in the conference room.

Violet stood.

Subira took a few steps toward Violet but stopped a little distance away. Subira's dark lips curved into a hint of a smile.

"Might I give you a greeting hug?" Subira asked hesitantly in a soft voice.

Violet immediately liked her, as sometimes happens when people first meet.

"Of course," Violet said, and smiled warmly.

The two closed the gap between them and hugged. They drew apart a moment later, and simply looked, saw, understood. They read each other's souls through the lenses of their eyes.

"If you are to do this thing, I am happy to give a part of me to you. It would be like I am with you, wherever you go," Subira said softly.

"Do not think ill of me but I want him dead. He killed my mother and father, and so many others," she said, her voice breaking with emotion.

Tears formed in Subira's eyes. She lowered her head.

"Please, forgive me," she said.

"I understand..." Violet responded.

A short time later, after everyone had returned to the conference room and had settled in their places, Violet knew it was time to make her decision. She looked once more to Subira, and then she stood to speak.

"I'll do it," she said.

Three weeks later.

The soft sound of birds chirping and singing nudged Violet awake. She rolled lazily in bed from her side to her back, as she would on any other day, and then, suddenly, she remembered, everything! She sat up quickly and held both hands up before her eyes.

"They did it," she thought.

Violet marveled at the lovely dark brown color of her hands and arms. She turned one palm toward herself and noted the change from dark skin tone to light. She could not see much more than her arms and hands at present. She was dressed in a pale orange nightie, and the bedsheets were tangled all around her. She pushed the sheets away and saw her lithe slender legs, just as they had always been, except now they were a rich dark cocoa color. She wanted to explore everything. She pulled the nightie away from her breasts a little and looked down. More beautiful dark brown skin greeted her gaze. Her nipples were the color of dark chocolate, almost black. Leaning forward had caused her hair to spill forward like coal black curtains being drawn around her face. She nibbled at her lower lip while observing the new dark look of her tresses. Next, she lifted the hem of her nightie. They had not dressed her in any panties. She leaned down to look at her pretty chocolate cunt, and noticed some sort of tattoo on her right inner thigh. She shifted to look closer, but at just that moment, a nurse entered the room.

"Checking things out I see," the nurse said warmly.

Violet was startled, but then smiled.

"You caught me," Violet said.

"We had to slut you up a bit. You will need to pass as a typical stripper, dancer, prostitute in that local region. Don't worry - the mission is a few months off yet," the nurse informed.

"I'll go over all of it with you," she said.

"On a percentage scale for skin tone for persons of black descent, you are at about the sixty percent mark, with one hundred percent being the darkest skin tone possible," she began.

"By the way, I'll get a drink and a snack for you shortly," she said.

"We brought in a top tattoo artist to work on you - high shelf. She did most of the work in cherry red and dark black inks, so things pop out well against your dark skin. You have one tattoo on your right inner thigh - it's a small heart with a cupid's arrow through it. The tip of the arrow points directly to your vagina. The words 'Cum here' are inscribed in gothic lettering just above the heart. You have another tattoo on your backside, centered, where your cheeks start to split. It's an image of an over-the-top sexy naked female devil bitch with horns, looking over her shoulder with her bubble butt facing you. Her tail winds downward like a serpent and ends with a curvy arrow shaped tip which points directly to your, well, you know. Just to the side where she is looking, words in the same gothic lettering read 'Make me cry'," the nurse informed.

"Oh, I'm Claire by the way. It's nice to meet you, awake," she said, smiling.

"It's nice to meet you too," Violet said.

"Well, the tattoos certainly send the message," Violet thought.

"Cum here. Dicks wanted. Drop a load. Wet twat open for business. Pussy in need. No sand, just jizz. Heaven awaits. Sperm slot. Deposit baby juice here. Fuck and go. Spread my wings. Seed bank. Now taking donations. No early withdrawals. High traffic area," she mused.

Claire continued to speak now, interrupting Violet's little fuck phrase reverie.

"All of your piercings closed during the procedure, given its regenerative nature, so we pierced your tongue again as well as the left side of your nose. We've just put simple sterile steel studs in place for now, to keep the piercings open. You can do whatever else you want beyond these two. You are still hair free, everywhere, from the neck down. As to your face, we sculpted just a little. Your nose has been widened a bit and reshaped. We also worked on your mouth and lips, to make you look more black natural. I think you will like," she said.

"I'm sorry if I seem too matter-of-fact here..." Claire said with concern in her voice.

"No, it's fine," Violet replied.

"Ok, well, let me get that drink and snack for you now. I'll be right back," Claire said.

Two hours and one snack later, Violet studied her reflection in the full length mirror. Her pale silver eyes, unchanged, contrasted with her new dark skin. The effect was stunning.

"I look a little like that actress, Chloe Salshana, from about fifty years ago," she thought.

They had moved her to this new room after her wake up snack. She was freshly showered and wrapped in a big fluffy green towel. Her coal black hair hung wet and fell in long straight strands against her slender shoulders and part way down her back.

"So, I'm black now, forever," Violet thought.

"Well, not until I earn it, not really. I have to live, and love perhaps, in this new skin, before I can truly say that," she realized.

Evening, one day later.

Violet was back in her room, lounging in bed, surfing her Net tablet. Tif was out. Violet yawned and moved to set the tablet aside when suddenly it beeped the specific tone intended to inform one that a new email awaited attention. She pulled the tablet back and swiped to her inbox. The new email was from Victoria Brentwood, Director, Brothel operations.

Violet began to read.

- - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - -

Princess,

I'm taking you with me on a trip to the City tomorrow.

Dress professionally, as if you were my office assistant. No slut rags.

Be outside my office at 0930.

Next, given your upcoming mission with Ops, and considering all of the training we will be putting you through, you will be excused from working the clubs until further notice. I may assign a few high end clients to you but it will be on a limited basis. Now, these next two things are somewhat tied together. One, going forward, you will be taking male clients only. While you will be spending a lot of time on your knees licking cunt, my cunt is the only cunt you will lick, which brings me to the second point. I want you to break things off with Tiffany. I'm possessive, though I plan to share you with my husband now and then. He really cannot seem to let you go entirely, and he seems obsessed with fucking you even more so now that you are black. I know this hurts, but you knelt to me, and we both know what it meant. You are mine now, and, in a way, I am yours.

Your favorite Bitch, V

- - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - -

Violet cried herself to sleep, already knowing what she would do. She could not help herself.

Next day, 0925, outside Victoria's office.

Violet wore a pair of tan cotton dress slacks, a cream-colored sleeveless silk blouse, and a pair of white flats. She could often go without a bra, or, a bra was her outerwear, but things were a little different now. Without a bra, her dark nipples were too obvious beneath the fabric of her blouse. Victoria had said to dress professionally, so Violet had done so, wearing a simple beige bra and matching panties beneath her outfit. She had replaced the starter stud in her nose with a thin gold ring, and likewise changed her tongue stud to gold. She wore a dark cherry red matte lipstick with generous amounts of black eyeliner and mascara around her eyes. She was focused on her Net phone, flicking her middle finger against its surface.

"Yes!" she exclaimed.

Just then Victoria emerged from her office.

"Yes?" Victoria questioned.

"I caught a Gloopretty," Violet said with some excitement in her voice.

"I see," Victoria replied.

"Well, let's be on our way," Victoria continued.

She handed a small thin, very expensive looking briefcase to Violet.

"Here, carry this," she said.

The two began their trip, little knowing the dire events which would soon unfold. The outcome would cement the bond between them forever.