Brad smirked at the Asian exchange student fumbling with her textbooks outside the bar. Her nervous giggle made his cock twitch. “Relax, Mei-Ling,” he drawled, though he hadn’t bothered learning her real name. All these girls blurred together with their petite frames, silky black hair and deep brown eyes. They were easy targets, and they melted when a white guy paid them attention, their thighs parting fast. He’d fucked seven this month alone, each one whispering, “I never do this,” before letting him rawdog their tight little pussies.

His phone buzzed as he left her dorm. It was another Tinder match: user LingXiu01, whose bio was littered with heart emojis. “U want sum fun tonite?” he typed, thumbing through her ass-heavy photos. She replied instantly. “Come 312 Redwood Ave. Door open. Come straight to bedroom .”

He didn’t hesitate and found the house quickly. As he entered, it reeked of incense and a jade statue of some cross-legged goddess sat on the mantel. “The fuck?” he muttered as he passed the strange object as began going up the stairs. The bedroom pulsed with candlelight, and Ling Xiu stood beside the bed, completely naked. “You like Asian pussy, laowai?” She said with a smirk that didn’t reach her eyes.

Brad immediately went in to hungrily grope her perfect tits. His cock was already rock hard as he ground his palm against the soft flesh. “Already naked, huh? You Asian girls really can’t get enough of…”

A strange feeling cut him off. Pain. Pain that tore through him rapidly as his bones snapped and his muscles squirmed under the skin that was suddenly porcelain smooth. “The fuck?!” he slurred, voice rising. Ling Xiu reached into his pants and gripped his softening cock tight, “Nice white boy dick. But I know you deserve something more.” She squeezed hard, but Brad’s cry of pain dissolved into a moan as his cock and balls pulled inside him. A glistening pair of lips opened down below as fat surged into his hips, and his tits swelled until the buttons on his shirt popped. Black hair entered his vision as it cascaded down his narrowing shoulders.

“Look!” She shoved Brad toward a mirror. A stranger stared back. Her cheeks were wide and soft beneath smooth golden skin, her eyes angled upward in their natural fold, and her lips soft and swollen. “I’m not a Chinese whore! I’m Brad!” He cried, but the words mangled in his throat, emerging as “Mee nah Chyna ho! Mee Brahli~!” Ling Xiu snorted. “Did you say Bai-Li? Yes, good name for China whore like you” His protest died in a squeak. Even his voice betrayed him, the English broken with a cartoonish accent.

“Now you Bai-Li. Go walk the street. See how you no can resist White man like you say us Asian girls cannot. See how true your words are!” She clicked her fingers, and he felt silky material clasp around body and legs as new shoes raised his view. She clicked them again, and she vanished. He was left clawing at his mandarin-collar dress.

Outside, catcalls dogged every wobbling step in his qipao. His new ass jiggled, each cheek a monument to every racist joke he’d ever made. “Hey, Mei-Ling!” a frat bro yelled, smacking his thigh. “You give a happy ending?” Bai-Li’s new pussy grew wet from his touch. “P-please, I not…”

“Whoa, that accent’s fucking hot.” The man groped his tits, fingers pinching. “How much for half an hour?” Bai-Li tried to knee him, but his body arched into the touch, moans spilling out. “N-no want…”

“Bullshit. You’re soaked.” A finger brushed his cunt, and Bai-Li’s knees buckled. His new hips rolled, fucking himself on the stranger’s hand. “See? Chicks like you beg for it.”

By dawn, he’d been passed between six men, as Bai-Li could not resist it. It turns out his locker-room sneers about ‘yellow fever’ were prophecy, at least for himself, and every one of his wet gags and moans proved it. But as his pulsing cunt forced him towards another man, he wished it was not so.