Max is a 21-year-old, 6’2 tall man with short brown hair and grey-blue eyes. His body was average. Most things about his life were average. Max was feeling super frustrated recently as his car broke down last week, and now he had to commute to work by train, which he hates. The worst part of it all is that the only way for him to get home from work is on a crowded train. Every time he tries to relax and enjoy his commute, he gets bothered by something. It could be some drunk guy making too much noise or someone who keeps staring at him like they’re trying to figure out what he is. But most of the time, it’s just people being annoying. And the worst thing about it all is that he can’t do anything about it!

Today was a particularly frustrating day at work because of one of his coworkers. A woman named Monica. She was always so lovely and sweet to everyone else, but she turned into a complete bitch when she saw Max. First, she started giving him dirty looks whenever he walked past her desk. Then she kept talking behind his back about how stupid he was and how he didn’t deserve to be working there. Finally, when he got up to leave early today, she started yelling at him in front of everyone, saying, “You think you’re better than us? You don’t know anything!”

Needless to say, Max was not in a good mood while he was sitting on the train waiting to arrive home. He tried to ignore everything around him and just read a book. But after a few minutes, he realised it was impossible. There was just too much noise, particularly at the end of the carriage. He could hear a group of four women chatting away loudly in a language he didn’t recognise. They were laughing and talking loudly enough that their voices echoed throughout the carriage.

He looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to the noise. But no one seemed to mind. Instead, they appeared to be able to drown them out by either reading a book or listening to music. Max couldn’t seem to get their voices out of his mind. Finally, he decided he had had enough and stood up, walking down the carriage to where the group of women were sitting. He found four young Arab women wearing hijabs, probably in their early twenties. With their hijabs, they all wore long dresses that came down to their ankles. Of what skin you could see, there was nothing but smooth, olive coloured skin. They didn’t notice Max and just continued chatting.

“Excuse me,” Max said politely. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I would appreciate it if you could keep your voices down.”

The women all looked at him curiously. Max could now see their faces clearly: they were beautiful. Their eyes were large and almond-shaped, with dark eyelashes. Max was surprised to see that even with their hijabs, they still had such feminine features. They all looked stunning. One of the women, a brunette, spoke first.

“Why?” She asked. Her voice was soft and melodic, almost as if she was singing.

Max paused for a moment. He wasn’t sure why he was bothering to ask them to lower their voices. It was apparent they weren’t going to listen to him. But then again, maybe he could make a point. Perhaps if he told them off, he might make a change. So he channelled his recent frustration, took a deep breath and replied.

“Because I’m sitting on the other side of the carriage, and I can hear you very well. I’ve been hearing you clearly for the last thirty minutes, and I can’t take it anymore.”

The women all laughed. Max’s face flushed red with embarrassment. He wanted to turn around and walk away, but he knew he couldn’t. If he did, he’d just be giving them what they wanted. So instead, he dug in and waited. The women laughed and then turned away from Max to face each other. They began to talk loudly again, ignoring Max completely. Finally, after a minute or two, one of the women turned to Max.

“Still here? We thought you would have left by now.”

Max just stared at her blankly. He didn’t know what to say, and he felt angry, frustrated and embarrassed. Finally, Max snapped.

“Just shut up, you fucking…” In his mind, he searched for a rude word to call them. “You fucking Muslim cunts!” He yelled at them, passion growing. “You Muslims whores!”

All four women turned to look at Max again. Finally, they were utterly silent. Max’s cheeks burned a bright red, and his fists clenched tightly together. He wanted to punch something, anything. But he couldn’t. Not with all these people around. Strangers surrounded him. There was an awkward silence while Max’s terrible things said heavy in the air.

One of the women finally spoke. “Okay, you need to apologise!”

Max turned to her and felt the anger immediately resuming. He started to shout again, wanting to hurt her.

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” He yelled. “You’re the ones who are being loud and disrespectful. So what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“You will apologise!” The woman repeated.

“No!” Max shouted back. “Fuck off! Go back to your fucking country and take your hijab with you. I don’t want to hear another word from any of you.”

The women just glared at him. Finally, one of the women stood up. “We won’t leave your country, ever. Your country is more and more Muslim by the day. It makes much more sense that you join us instead!”

Max couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was just ready to start shouting again when he saw something incredible. The woman who just spoke started chanting in her language, and her eyes began to glow red. Max looked around to see if anyone else had noticed, but everyone else ignored it. Then, a few seconds later, the rest of the women followed suit. Soon all four of them were chanting in their language with their eyes glowing red.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Max shouted, increasingly alarmed.

Suddenly, all four women stood up and lifted their arms high above their heads. Max gasped in shock. He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen, but it was deeply unsettling to watch. Next, all four women held their hands together and lifted their arms towards the ceiling. Max watched in amazement as the lights at the top of the carriage dimmed and flickered.

“Oh my God… oh my god”, Max stuttered, petrified.

Then, just as quickly as they began, the women stopped chanting and dropped their arms, sitting down again. The lights above the carriage came back to full power, and everything returned to normal. Max was speechless. He just stood there stunned for what felt like hours. That’s when it hit. He’d never experienced anything like it before, and it was like energy forcing its way into his body. It was so powerful; he could feel it all over his skin. His heart started beating faster, and he felt a shiver run through his entire body.

He looked around to see if anyone else had noticed what was happening. They didn’t notice anything; it was like he was not there. It’s then when he realised he couldn’t run away, as when trying to move, he found his body frozen to the spot. He was utterly at their mercy.

“Help me!” Max screamed.

“No one can hear you,” one of the women said.

“Please help me!” Max cried out.

But no one seemed to hear him. Not that he could tell easily if they could hear him as he couldn’t even move his head to look around. He felt like he couldn’t breathe and that he was suffocating.

“What is happening to me?” He whispered.

His mouth felt dry, and he struggled to swallow. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t, and he tried to scream, but he couldn’t. He was trapped.

The women were observing Max. They smiled to themselves.

“You’re so cute,” one of them said to you.

Max felt his heart pounding inside his chest. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. Why wouldn’t his body move? He wanted to run away, but he couldn’t. He tried to fight back, but he couldn’t. He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything.

“What’s your name?” Another of the women asked.

“I’m Max.”

“No, that’s not right.” Said the woman with an evil grin. “Your name is Laila.”

Max’s heart skipped a beat as he felt a warm recognition from that name. He remembered it. He was sure of it, and he felt certain of it.

“Laila… My name is Laila.” Max’s mind replaced his name with Laila. He had always been Laila.

“You sound so weird saying it what way,” the woman replied. “Stop trying to use English, your terrible with it. Just use our language!”

Laila remembered that the women had all been speaking Arabic earlier and that she spoke Arabic, not only now but always had. Moreover, she remembered that it was her first language.

“Yes, I’m so tired of using English.” Replied Laila in fast and fluent Arabic.

The women laughed.

“Yeah, and you say words so weirdly while using it. Like when you say our names.” The woman continued. “Try saying our names now.

“Nour, Hala, Rasha, and Zahra.” Laila found her eyes moving to each woman as she said their names. She recognised their faces like they had known them for years.

“Those names are so beautiful; our language is so beautiful,” Laila whispered. “Why do I need English when I can just speak Arabic?” But wait, Laila thought to herself. Something was wrong, very wrong. Why was she feeling this way? Her thoughts were becoming muddled as her old identity weakly tried to resist what was happening.

“No, this isn’t right…” Laila whispered.

The women were looking at her in surprise. “What are you talking about?” The woman you now know, Nour asked.

“This isn’t me. My name is… my name is…” The only name she could think of was Laila. “I shouldn’t know Arabic…”

“What should you know then, Laila? What should you be able to do?” The woman you recognise as Hala asked.

“My name is Laila. I can’t speak Arabic. I speak English” Laila tried to explain and force herself to use English, but her words were coming out wrong. Her mouth only wanted to make Arabic.

“How strange,” Rasha said.

“You don’t speak English; you only speak Arabic. That’s why you came here, to study English. Remember?” Zahra stated plainly.

“No, I speak English,” Laila protested in Arabic. Her thoughts we also in Arabic. She could only speak Arabic from now on.

“Maybe a few words, don’t worry, you will learn this kafir language quickly. But you can’t speak it properly. You can’t even pronounce the letter ‘r’ properly.” Hala laughed.

“Honestly, Laila, let’s change the subject. Earlier, I was thinking that we looked so similar we could be sisters. Do you think so?” Hala suggested.

“We look nothing alike,” Laila said.

“But we do. We are the same height…” Laila’s height shrinks almost a foot in height. “And we have the same build, almost.” Laila’s body reforms. Her feet and hands become smaller, while her arms and legs become slender and feminine. Her hips widen, and her ass becomes rounder while her waist narrows.

“Although her boobs are a lot bigger!” Added Zahra while Laila’s chest grew as breasts developed. Finally, Laila’s shoulders slimmed down while her neck appeared to lengthen.

“Your faces are indeed quite similar!” Giggled Rasha. Laila’s face then morphed: her nose shrunk while her lips became fuller. Her jawline lost bone and definition, and her face became much softer. Her eyes changed colour to brown, and her eyes became almond-shaped while her eyebrows reshaped into a carefully plucked and shaved look.

“You are both so beautiful”, Nour exclaims. “I love both of your skin tones!” Laila’s skin then changed to an olive tone just like theirs, and her hair darkened to black, becoming long and silky.

“We always do everything at the same time too.” Said Hala. “We went to university at the same time, and we came to this country at the same time. I bet we will even become mothers at the same time too!”

Laila’s male sex began to reform as she said this. Her penis retracted into her body, and her testicles pulled back inside her. Her nipples started to harden and grow larger.

“You always say how much you want children,” Nour added, smiling at Laila. Her sex continued to change. Her penis formed a clitoris as her labia separated, revealing a hole rapidly expanding into a functioning cervix and womb.

“I wonder when you will ever get pregnant,” Rasha added. Finally, Laila’s vagina finished up its development as her inner lips opened to reveal a pink and wet interior.

“You four are so funny.” Laila laughs, the change of her genitals and body settling down. “Stop teasing me and remind me where are we going, girls?” Asked Laila, her mind locking into its new state.

“To Capital Mosque! How could you forget? Our whole community is going to be there.” Zahra answered.

“Of course!” Replied Laila, her mind finally freeing itself of all confusion. She knew exactly where they were heading and where she had come from.

“I love what you are wearing!” Hala exclaimed.

“Oh, thank you,” Laila replied.

“Your hijab is so pretty; I love the pink colour. Where did you get the material?” Zahra asked.

“It was a gift,” Laila answered as the modest cloth wrapped itself around her head and neck.

“Was your blouse a gift as well?” Nour asked.

“Yes,” Laila answered, feeling the soft fabric hug her shapely body.

“I love your style! You always wear the most beautiful clothes.” Hala complimented.

“The scarf is inspired!” Zahra said eagerly. A colourful patterned material formed around her neck and her pink hijab.

“You jeans are a little tight to be wearing to a mosque, though, surely?” Asked Nour.

“They are my favourite pair,” Laila answered as the denim tightly clung to her legs.

“You do look amazing,” Hala commented.

“You should thank Allah every day that he blessed you with such beauty and style,” Rasha said.

“Thank you. I owe everything to Allah, of course.” Said Laila devoutly as a whole life of Muslim devotion filled her mind. All she had known about the west and east, Islam and Christianity, was instantly reformed.

“Pray you to find a husband soon,” Nour added.

“Amen.” Laila agreed, thinking how amazing it would be to have a strong man make her a bride and mother.

“Why are you standing anyway? Come sit down!” Zahra suggested, gesturing for her to sit down next to them. Laila sat down, and they began talking with the other four women about what they were going to do at the mosque

***

Johnathon got on the train and found himself unable to do the essential research for a hastily put together meeting. Five hijab-clad women were speaking loudly on the other side of the carriage. His anger grew at their noise, and he started to think that he’d speak his mind to them…