New Music in the Hood, Part 7 (TG RC AR) (Patreon)

Warning: themes of Racism

Harvey and Karen are a nosy white suburban couple in their mid-fifties who ruthlessly work to enforce the gentrified policies of their Home Owner Association. But when the pair make some unsavoury racial remarks about the new neighbours' taste in hop hop music, they suddenly find not only their genders swapped, but their races changed! And what's more, they both find themselves compelled to enjoy the sounds of hip hop, as well as playing it.

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New Music in the Hood, Part 7

Nia and Andre were nervous. The concert was not far from beginning, and they were going to be on soon. The pair had yet to find a way out of their life. Despite every attempt, they had similarly been unable to escape this moment. The party the previous night had been full of celebrations and song, much of which they had inevitably taken part in, but there had always been the slightest hope that if they played their cards right, they would be returned to their rightful bodies, instead of being cursed to play before this crowd.

“Looks like ya’ll are nervous,” a voice came from behind them. It was Yunique, who had her arms crossed, and an amused look upon her face. “First performance jitters? Or do secret white folk just not like the idea of performing hip hop and rap before a large crowd?”

Nia balled her fists, and Andre stepped forward. But Yunique stood her ground, still smiling. Andre couldn’t do a thing, he knew it.

“You know we ain’t supposed to be like this,” he said.

“Well, you two could’a fooled me. After all, those were some sick beats we were dropping last night to warm the party. If you give half as much effort when we go on stage and perform in half an hour, then we’re as good as famous. Turns out you two were the missing ingredient to our little band. Who would have thought old Harvey and Karen next door, the colossal racists, would end up being a main attraction, huh?”

Nia blushed, and Andre turned away, feeling humiliated.

“We just want our lives back,” Nia said. “We learned our lesson.”

“That so? Because last I recall, you were planning to chase us out with the HOA on our asses. Not exactly possible now, is it? Besides, I don’t control this weird freako curse. Seems just like the universe finally giving some well-deserved karma to a couple of racists if you ask me. I especially like the part where the prude Karen gets to rap about going down on all the ladies, but then the bit where Harvey shakes his ass and hips before the crowd while singing about her curves also makes me laugh a lot.”

The two were silent. Deshawn approached, put his hand on Yunique’s shoulder.

“Everything all good here?”

“Just fine, baby,” Yunique said, pulling him into a kiss. “That was for good luck,” she said when finished. “Maybe our transformed friends should do the same.”

The puppeteer’s strings pulled tight, and soon they were doing exactly that. Nia moaned in Andre’s mouth, utterly turned on by the way her big nipples brushed against his strong chest, their thin shirts no barrier. She’d opted against her will to go without a bra, in order to let her big titties bounce all the more, and put on a show for the guys. Similarly, Andre was wearing a low cut singlet that showed a great deal of his muscles. It disgusted the two former white individuals, the way they were showing off their sexy, well-muscled and curved black bodies. Andre in particular still felt a virulent disgust at being a powerful black man. His racism had always been even stronger than Harvey’s, and so it was a fitting punishment that he now was forced to be a dominant, yet compassionate individual. Something he feared before, and yet simultaneous never believed could be true. The fact that he was forced to act more moral than Karen ever was also bit hard.

“Well, look at those two, they play hard,” Monica said as she passed. The Asian punk rocker chuckled. “Damn I gotta find me a hot chick to keep up with these couples. But then, maybe I’ll be the one all the groupies know is actually available.”

The four laughed, though Nia and Andre only because of the strange spell upon them. She moved back to check over their gear, making sure all the sound levels were right. It gave room for Deshawn and Yunique to talk to them, much to their annoyance.

“How else can you debase and humiliate us?” Andre asked.

“All sorts of ways,” Yunique responded, “but I don’t want that shit. Sure, it’s fun to tease, but frankly I kind of hope you actually fucking learn a lesson from this. We’re about to perform. If things go well, we could go big league with the sound we got. And that means you two are gonna have to learn to really life the hip hop life, and realise what being a good fuckin’ neighbour actually involves.”

“She’s not wrong,” Deshawn said. “I meant it in our talk the other day, Andre. I mean, you were a foul bitch of a woman before, but this could be a second chance.”

“Same for you Nia,” Yunique said, “if you can learn to accept how nice it is being a beautiful Afro-Latina woman.”

Nia pouted. In truth, some parts of it were incredible. And perhaps if she learned to accept it . . . she could change back. And then get revenge. Then find some way to punish how uppity these people were being. The thought stirred in her head. If she could just humiliate herself now, then maybe she could leave this whole thing behind her, and go back to the whiteness and privilege she was used to. That she deserved.

She plastered a grin on her face. “Maybe . . . I guess I can try.”

Plus, sucking cock really did make her orgasm. God, it tasted so fucking good. It was making her horny right at that moment, just thinking about it.

Andre looked at her, aghast. “Are you kidding me, Nia? We’re not trying anything! Whatever it takes, we are getting back to how we were!”

Yunique and Deshawn sighed. Nia tried to motion for Andre to stop, listen to the only plan they hadn’t tried: embracing the change in order to ‘learn a lesson,’ like in all the old cartoons, then going back on it all later. But Andre was having none of it. Like always, when he got in a rant, he got in a rant.

“I am not being stuck as some ugly, disgusting, hairy black man, ya hear!? I am gonna go back to being a proper, respectable, civilised white woman.”

“A total racist bitch, you mean,” Yunique said.

“It’s not racism if what they say is true!” Andre declared.

“And what is that? Huh? Go on, say it!?”

Nia tried desperately to get him to stop, even kicking at his ankles. But Andre’s mouth was running, and there was no stopping it, even as it drove him right off a cliff.

“That you two and people like you are nothing but a bunch of low down dirty -”

The eyes of everyone sans Andre rose at the word that followed. The word that certainly should never be uttered by a white woman, even if she was inhabiting a black man’s body, and even if she were a black man, never in the way he was using it. He seemed to realise what he had said, because the silence that followed had the weight of a great mountain, and Yunique and Deshawn shared a look that seemed to say, ‘okay, well, they deserve everything they get now.’

“Ho. Lee. Fuck. You did not just say that,” Yunique exclaimed.

Andre stammered. “Um, I - I didn’t mean - it just slipped out, and -”

But Deshawn was already barrelling forth, pulling back a fist, ready to strike.

It was Nia and Yunique both that stopped the blow, jumping in front of their partners for separate reasons. They only just managed to avoid a punch-up.

“Don’t babe,” said Yuniue. “That was just Karen speaking, and she don’t matter no more. Andre does, and he’s the one that’s really in the driver’s seat, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Better punishment that way.”

“Exactly.”

Nia looked at her former wife. “Are you insane? What if that’s the kind of thing that means we never turn back?”

Andre gave a guilty look, but one flooded with anger. But before either could say anything further, a technician ran into the room.

“Everyone clear to go on in fifteen? Got quite a crowd out there, and you guys are our opener.”

Instantly the strings were in charge.

“Absolutely, we’re ready,” Nia said. “We’re gonna bring the house down, right Andre?”

“Damn straight,” he said.

Yunique and Deshawn laughed.

“What they said!” he added. And while he was generally the much nicer of the two, even he recognised how far the recent action had gone. When the man left, he put his hand on Andre’s shoulder. “Yunique is passionate, but she’s a damn good woman. She put up with a lot of your shit before this boiled over. So I tell you what. You are going to take Nia into the back for a nice little last second lay, so you can appreciate what it is to be a strong black man. And when you’ve both got a bit of humility from that little fun, then you’re going to apologise to my girl, and never talk like that to her again, got it?”

“G-got it.”

He smiled. “Good. Now you kids go have fun. I hear your son is out there in the crowd. I didn’t realise how far he’d strayed from the family tree. He’s got a man on his arm, and he don’t look white.”

Andre scowled, infuriated by this piece of information. But then he felt his erection flair at the sight of Nia in her tight braless crop top and short short denims. He took her hand, led her to a backroom, and they spent the next five minutes fucking like their lives depending on it.

“Oh G-God! You idiot!” Nia cried as he pounded her from behind. “You’re probably t-trapped us like this! I was p-playing the long game!”

“You enjoy - ahhh - this too much! It’s disgusting!” Andre replied. “They deserved to be told that. I’m not going to be stuck with this big black dick forever!”

Nia moaned as she orgasmed, and him with her. They didn’t have a condom this time, but she could barely think about it. Something told her that they had lost at the moment that word was used, or perhaps they never would have turned back anyway.

“You’ve d-doomed us. N-now we have to live like this f-forever - Nghhhhh . . .”

“N-no! I refuse - ahhh! I want my body back!”

But soon they were getting ready, chucking on deodorant and quickly cleaning up before heading back to the others. Monica smiled as she saw them, thinking them just another horny couple cooling off before the show. But Deshawn and Yunique knew better.

“I’m really, really sorry,” Andre said, feeling like an idiot, and not too sorry at all. He could hardly meet their eyes.

“Well, maybe once we’re famous, we’ll forgive you,” Yunique said. “I’m still set on you guys being good neighbours eventually. Once you learn your lesson. As many years as that takes.”

Deshawn shrugged at Nia, who simply felt deflated.

The man returned, and motioned for them to come on stage.

‘Introducing the Neighbor’s Hood!’

They headed out to the huge crowd. The show was about to begin.

***

The crowd went wild as Nia shook her ass, twerking between lyrics. Already, the band was making heavy splashes, and not just because of Yunique and Deshawn’s friends and relations mingled in the crowd. No, even Andre and Nia felt the thrum of the music in their core, the power and ferocity of it, but also the clever rhymes and playful wit inherent in the lyrics. Out in the crowd they could see their son Kevin, bopping his head to the music in a way that made him look very, very white. His husband was beside him, a tall Asian man with piercings who was much more animated. It infuriated the pair of them to know that he’d kept this part of his life from them, but at the same time, they both knew why.

“Are we having a good night tonight people!?” Yunique shouted into the mic after they finished the last song of the night.

The crowd roared in approval. Several of them shouted at Nia, complimenting her ass and hips, with many talking about her bust. Even some of the girls were going wild for her. Andre, on the other hand, had numerous girls cheering out his name: his effortless masculine appeal was clearly having a potent effect, much to his hidden disgust. Of course, Deshawn and Yunique were quite good lookers too, and they had their own share of praise, which they soaked up. Already they had played a couple of songs as the concert opener, and soon another band would have to take over. But they’d made their entry, and anyone coming after them would have to be pitied, especially since they had to top the moment where Nia and Andre danced up on one another as they rapped their lyrics increasing speed, a sight as impressive as it was sexy.

But now it was their final song, Black Destiny. Nia bounced on stage, letting her tits flop about and her perfect middriff show. Andre cracked a grin at the sight without meaning to, and with a smooth gesture of his hand over his head, flexed his muscles for the women in the crowd.

“Okay everyone,” Yunique yelled into the mic, “this is our last song for the night. It’s called A Real Hip Hop Couple.”

There was a moment where her own eyes went wide, and she exchanged a look with Andre and Monica, who both looked surprised. But then Deshawn and Monica began playing the music, and Yunique took up her position as backup, despite their evident confusion. Nia and Andre exchanged glances. They both recognised that look: Yunique and Andre and Monica were being puppeteered. But to what extent they had no idea. For a brief moment they were both hopeful of being turned back, Nia especially.

But then the lyrics began, a duet between Andre and Nia with the others providing the music and backup. Instantly chills rain down their changed spines. They had heard this tune before, the night of their change. And now it was returning in the form of their own voices.

“Oh fuck,” Andre said.

“Yeah, fuck,” Nia said.

The crowd tittered, thinking it was some private in-joke, but before they could think of something to say or do to prevent what was coming, they began to sing. Nia, followed by Andre.

‘You don’t like my kind, you don’t like my race,

Still got that tight ass, still got that bomb face

Shit I don’t care watchu carry on bout me,

You know my looks are fire, I’m not your B’

‘You don’t scare me with your racist shit,

I can take the hit and hit and fucking hit,

Baby you don’t know what’s coming your way,

You gotta pay you gotta pay,

Your bitch white asses are on the line,

Soon you’ll get chocolate skin like mine.’

‘I said you gon have chocolate skin like mine,

Nice black skin bitch you know it’s fine.’

‘Big black muscles makes me so hot,

Let’s make sure that’s what you got,

A wet and ready pussy will take that right in,

Bitch you gonna love to sin

‘Now you in your proper place

Let’s fix up some hot ass face

And speaking off ass let’s make yours big,

While he gets muscles she can dig!’

‘Gon get you done up fine in what you wear

And make sure yo girl has a big titty pair,

Then you a real hip hop couple from the hood,

You’ll live that life no matter where you stood,’

‘Nia you a sexy hip hop bitch,

And you a goddamn rapper Andre.

Oh you wanna turn back and switch?

Well too bad bitches time to pay!’

They yelled the last line together with a fury that would have seemed utterly earnest from the outside, instead of utterly horrified. Yunique and Deshawn also came in at the end, both beaming smiles upon their faces as they realised what was happening.

The crowd roared and clapped, but there was something more than just joy in the air. This was not as lyrically complex or interesting as their previous songs, nor as catchy. There was meaning in it, yes, but not enough to garner such a reaction. But there was a magic to the music, an essence to it that only the two couples actually knew existed, but that the audience clearly felt in some intangible way. Both Nia and Andre shuddered as some of that magic infused their bodies. It didn’t not change them, alter them, make them grow or change or revert in any way. Far from it. Instead, the two former WASPs felt a solidifying influence upon their bodies. In that moment, the two of them knew for certain that there had been a chance to change back, and that the chance had come and gone.

They were stuck as Nia and Andre for life, and Yunique and Deshawn clearly knew it as well, from their surprised and somewhat victorious expressions.

“Looks like you two are with us for the long haul!” Yunique shouted over the roar of the crowd. He mic was off, but as she raised a fist to the crowd, they cheered with her, including Andre and Nia’s own unknowing son, Kevin.

“Oh God,” Andre said. “We’re stuck like this.”

“And it’s all your fault,” Nia said.

“My fault, you’re the one who had the plan to ruin them after we changed back!”

“And you’re the one who said that nasty thing to them just before!”

“Moron!”

“Idiot!”

“Bitch!”

“Dick!”

“I want a divorce!”

“Finally, I’ve been thinking of one for twenty damn years!”

“You used to have a tiny dick!”

“Well, you were a limp fish in bed!”

The two squabbled, until finally the puppeteer’s strings took over, and they embraced and kissed passionately, the two of them becoming aroused right on stage. With one last wave, they began their exit, stuck in their new bodies, their new black lives, and their new careers. And for all their misery, the crowd continued to cheer them on.

To Be Concluded . . .