You are on a slow train, slowly cutting through the Chinese countryside. The landscape is flat and featureless: endless rice paddies and wheat fields stretch out to the horizon. You can see no people or villages anywhere in sight.

There’s only one passenger in your car with you, which is quite extraordinary for China, as for all your years living in the middle kingdom, you have never seen a train less than crowded. But here you are, alone, bar one. You look over at the passenger. She is a pretty woman, wearing a white blouse with a blue skirt. On her legs are skin-colored tights, and she is wearing black high heels. Her hair goes down to her shoulders and is dyed brown, and on her lap lays a sizeable brown handbag. She doesn’t notice you, as she is engrossed in a book.

The stations on this line are far apart, and you have a good hour before anyone else will enter the carriage other than staff, and they seem far and few between. You try not to stare at the woman but find it hard to resist. She is so beautiful that you feel a stirring in your loins even from across the aisle. But you also feel another emotion-stirring, one that you would never admit to anyone. A secret that you would take to the grave.

Ever since you came to China and even long before that, you always felt a deep feeling of jealously when you saw a pretty Asian woman. Not jealously in wanting to be with her, but jealously in wanting to be her. You want to be just like her. You want to have those perfect features and that slender body. You want to be able to walk around without a care in the world while others look at you with desire. You want to be enjoyed by everyone, not because of who you are, but because of your appearance.

You try to focus on other things. You pull your phone out to check your email, but nothing is there. You scroll through your Facebook feed and find nothing interesting. You start reading a novel that you downloaded onto your Kindle. You can’t even manage to read the first paragraph. All you can think about is the woman opposite of you. How much do you love to be her? You want to be able to walk into a room full of men and have them fall over themselves to be with you.

Your eyes are glued to her legs. They’re slim and shapely, and you wish you could touch them. You look up to see if she notices you looking at her. She does not. She continues to read her book. You wonder why she’s sitting all alone in such a lonely place. It seems strange to you. She looks so alone. Lonely and attractive. Surely not lonely? You imagine her with someone, perhaps a boyfriend, who you picture as holding her close while kissing her neck. You picture yourself doing the same to her. You see her legs wrapped around your waist as you fuck her. No, you imagine yourself having her legs and wrapping them around another man. You start to get into it, and your cock begins straining against your trousers. You need relief. You don’t know how much longer you can wait. You glance again at the woman, and she still hasn’t noticed you. She seems oblivious to everything and totally lost in her book.

You look up at her hands. She has long, slender fingers, with her nails long and with a french manicure. You wonder what spending so much time on your nails is like. You’ve never had a manicure in your life. You stare at her fingers and imagine having fingers just like hers. You see yourself looking at your hands and seeing long, elegant, feminine fingers. When imagining this, you feel an odd sensation like someone is trapping your fingers in a vice. You look down at your own hands and almost fall out of shock in your seat.

You can’t believe it. Your hands have changed. Your hands look just like hers. They are perfect. They look like a model’s hands. You can’t stop staring at them. You look back up at the woman, and she is as oblivious to you as ever. You feel your eyes drawn down to her shoes. Is this really happening? Can it be true?

You stare at her feet. They are small and can’t be more than a size 5. Just like before, you feel that feeling of jealously as you think about how much you want to be able to wear those beautiful shoes. You look at her feet and imagine wearing the same shoes. You imagine being able to walk around in them. You imagine having a pair of shoes that you can show off to everyone. You can’t help but smile at the thought. And then you feel it again.

This time in your feet, which feel as though they are trapped in a vice. The same odd sensation. You concentrate on this feeling, revelling in it. Finally, you lift your left leg, and your shoe falls straight off of it. Your left foot is much too small, and your sock is loosely hanging off it. You pull off the sock to reveal a tiny foot. You inspect your right foot and find it to be the same. They both must be a size 5, just like hers.

You look up at the woman again. She’s still engrossed in her book. How is she so impossibly focused on it? You don’t overthink this in your excitement. Your crotch is pushing against your pants hard now. You know what you need to think of next. You stare at her crotch, praying to God that she doesn’t look up at this point. You stare and think hard about how much you want a pussy like hers. What do you think about wearing pants with no bulges? You think about getting wet and playing with your clit. You think about how nice it would be to rub your clit until you cum. You think about fucking yourself with a dildo. You are just thinking about fucking a man with your pussy when your rock-hard cocks begin to feel strange.

You feel the tightness of your pants decline as the strange feeling gets stronger. Soon, there is no pressure at all. Soon, you appear to feel nothing at all. You look down and see your trousers look empty, as though there was nothing there. Then you hear a slight squelching sound and feel the wetness. You feel wet down there. Wet and sticky. You reach into your pants, diving into your underwear. You feel the lips of a new pussy, and this feeling is overwhelming. You squeeze your thighs together and feel the sticky wetness between them. You can’t believe you have a pussy just like hers. You want to plunge your fingers inside but hold back. You want to feel this feeling for a while longer. You look up at the woman. She is still reading her book.

You know what you must do next. You are much too far to stop now. You stare at the woman’s legs this time. Her legs are gorgeous, and now you know that you can have them too. You begin to fantasize about them, imagining yourself sliding her tights up your legs. You imagine a man gently stroking your inner thigh. You imagine it, and you once again feel that familiar feeling. Your legs feel like they are in a vice as you watch her legs. Your hands go down to your legs, and you rub your pants. You feel the fabric through the smooth skin of your new feminine thighs. It feels amazing. You look down and see your trousers are now much too large and awkwardly sitting over your tiny waist.

You look up and see her looking back at you. She’s caught you. You look away from her and pretend to be busy with something else. You hope she will get bored and move on. You know she won’t, though. You know she’ll keep staring at you. You look back at her and see she has a knowing look on her face. She knows you’ve been watching her. She smiles at you and begins to cross the carriage. She stops in front of you.

“I was wondering if you were okay?” she says. “You look so lost.”

You look up at her, your heart pounding in your chest. She is smiling at you. You try to think of an excuse.

“Oh yes,” you say, “just daydreaming.” I’m sorry to have disturbed you. “

She looks at you and then moves in slowly. Her mouth reaches your ear. She whispers, “What about my tits?”

Her breath on your neck sends shivers down your spine. You feel your body reacting to her closeness.

“What?” you whisper.

“Do you like my tits?” she asks.

You feel yourself nod, and then you feel the woman’s hand on your shoulder. “You want a pair just like this, right?” she says.

You nod again.

“And my shoulders? And my arms? You want those too, right? “

Again, you nod.

“Then why don’t you just tell me what you want?” she says.

Your mind goes blank. You have never been so turned on in your life. Your new pussy is fluttering like crazy. You don’t know what to say. You just stand there, waiting for her to make the next move.

“Tell me what you want, you little slut,” she says.

You stutter out: ” I want to be just like you.”

The woman smiles. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

You look into her eyes and say, “I want to.” I want to have tits just like yours. I want to have small shoulders and slender arms just like you! “

“Keep going!”

“I want to be a Chinese woman just like you!”

“And?”

“And I want to wear clothes just like you!” Your pussy is feeling extremely hot.”And I want to fuck a man just like you!”

The woman smiles and runs her finger down your cheek. Next, she puts her other hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently. Finally, she takes your chin and turns it towards her. “Then do it.”

And you do. You feel it, the feeling of being in a vice. First at your chest, then across your whole torso. You aren’t watching the woman this time; you look down and see the changes. Your arms shrink down, the fat redistributes, your tits grow, and your breasts expand into your shirt. Everything below your neck looks just like her.

“Now, let’s give you a makeover!” She kisses you on the lips, and her tongue invades your mouth. She puts her hand on the back of your head as you moan and kiss her back. You feel the feeling now on your face. You feel your hair lengthen as your features reshape entirely. You feel your eyes widen, and your nose becomes smaller. You feel your jaw drop, and your teeth change shape. You feel your cheeks become rounder and your lips plump. You feel your face becoming more and more like hers.

“That’s better,” she says, “But I sense there is one more thing.”

You wrack your brain. You think that you must have everything you ever wanted. You have a cute pair of Asian feet and a cute Asian pussy. You have glorious Asian legs and big Asian tits. Your face is entirely Asian, and your hair is black and long. What else could there be? And then it hits you. You have always been jealous of Chinese people’s culture, history, and language. You look up at the woman and feel that sense of jealously again. You want to speak Chinese. You don’t want to speak English. “

“I… Bùyàoshuō yīngyǔ” You say first, meaning you don’t want to speak English. You want to tell her next that you only want to speak Chinese with “wǒ zhǐ xiǎng shuō zhōngwén,” coming from your pretty Asian lips. The woman laughs.

“Hǎo de!” She replies, meaning okay. But, of course, you perfectly understand her. It’s your language, after all. You both don’t need to use English anymore. “Wait here, little sister. I will return to you soon.” She says, leaving the carriage. You wait there, desperate to explore your new body further but knowing you shouldn’t.

She comes back with some clothes. She hands them to you. They are not clothes you would have ever imagined wearing before. Of course, there was a bra and panties, but also a lace blouse, a kind of denim overall shorts, and some sneakers. It was a very different look for the woman, but you loved it anyway.

“Go try it on!” she says. “And maybe try something else.”

You walk awkwardly with your old male clothes to one of the train’s bathrooms. There you strip off and can admire yourself in the mirror. You have an incredible body, much slimmer than your old one. Your waist is tiny, and your hips are full. Your ass is perfect, and your tits are amazing. You look down at your pussy. Even if it’s such a disgusting place, you know you need to try it. You take a finger and slide it inside. You gasp as you feel your insides contract around your digit.

“Wow,” you whisper to yourself. “It feels good.” You start to rub your clit. Your fingers disappear inside you, sliding past your pussy lips. You can feel the heat building within you, and you can’t help but rub harder and faster.

“I’m a beautiful Asian woman,” you whisper to yourself, your breathing getting faster. You feel your orgasm coming closer and closer.

“I’m a beautiful Chinese woman,” you say louder. Getting even closer

“I’m a Chinese slut,” you cry out as your pussy explodes.

Your eyes roll back in your head, and you cough hard, your pussy contracting around your finger until it slides out. You stand there, panting and feeling your pussy tingle. You can’t believe how much pleasure you’re getting from this. You reach down and play with your pussy some more, still amazed by the amount of sensation you can get from such a small part of your body.

“Oh wow,” you gasp, “This will be fun.” You calm down and get dressed. You put on the bra and panties, then the lace blouse, and you slip on the denim overall shorts. Finally, on go your sneakers. You look in the mirror, and you are so happy with what you see. You love your new body. You’ve never felt better.

“I’m perfect,” you whisper. You walk back to the carriage and look for the woman, but she is not there. So, you sit down on the bench and wait, but she doesn’t come. Instead, the announcements play for the next stop. You decide to take it, so the train stops, and you get off.

It doesn’t matter where you are anymore or who you are. You are a beautiful Chinese woman and won’t find it hard to find your way. You’ve just got to find the right man to milk in more ways than one.