Russian

Joanna typed on the device, filling out prompts and moving sliders.

“There we go!”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw your hair instantly turn blonde. You heard crunching sounds as your body went through changes rapidly. Your point of view suddenly surged upwards several inches so that you and Joanna were almost at eye level again. Was she genuinely giving you your height back?? Your already thin body now looked almost skeletal, sharp contours showing through your new lingerie.

You could feel your face shifting, your chin sharpening while high cheekbones formed.

You raised a hand tentatively to your new face, brushing your now much longer hair out of the way and feeling the last of the changes as your lips plumped up slightly.

“Wow, that’s a lot more than I thought would happen!” she exclaimed in wonder. “You even got some height back! That’s my bad, I might have to fix that later…how are you feeling, Lana? I guess that’s short for Svetlana now, haha.”

Still coming to terms with your physical changes, you’d completely forgotten that Joanna had been talking about language changes.

“Vot are you talking about? Vot you mean by Svetlana—oh my!”

You broke off, taken aback by how entirely unrecognisable your voice now was. Not only did you have a Russian accent so thick it was almost comical, you spoke in broken English. You thought hard about proper English structure, but all that came to mind was Russian grammar.

But I know perfect English just a second ago! How the fuck is this happening? I even think in broken English!

“Whatever do you mean?” Joanna asked playfully. “That’s your name, silly!“

“Nyet! Zat is not Svetlana name! Svetlana name is…I mean…”

You clutched your hands to your head in confusion.

_What the hell?? Why I cannot remember my name? Or proper English? True, is my second language, but—nyet! Is my first language, da?_

“Vhy are you do zis, Mistress?” you asked, the curling your lips in disgust at the word. You’d hated saying it before, but now it felt even more wrong coming out of your mouth. You looked at Joanna, eyes filled with contempt.

Mistress? She is not fit to lick my foot. She should be punished like bad girl she—

“Mental changes already working, I see?” she interrupted, noticing your change in expression. “It’s one of my more genius ideas if I say so myself. Imagine, a dominatrix **** into submission!”

Your eyes widened as you realised what you were feeling in that moment.

The urge to dominate, to punish, while being entirely helpless to do anything.

“You vhill not get away vith zis, Mistress!”

“Oh? But I already have! To be exact, you are…” she checked the device. “Svetlana Malishkova, illegal immigrant from Russia, came to the U.S. and applied to this school under the name Lana Smith, struggles to hold a job due to her poor English so she pays for tuition through prostitution. Man, do the boys here love you! You’re dominant in there, but, see…” She chuckled. “You also have a compulsion to do whatever anyone else asks of you! You’ll do whatever anyone says, and hate every second of it! Watch, you’re unfrozen now. A lovely young lady like you should curtesy!”

You glared at her as you automatically sank into a curtesy, then suddenly sprang up and made a grab for the device.