A good law is a bad law

Clutching a small bag, obviously a Fendi knockoff, Ricarda felt like everything inside her screamed poverty and helplessness. She had always had power in the Senate; people listened to her, feared her, but now it felt like she was going backward, losing everything: money, power, status. She was not now a powerful man, Richard Hale anymore but instead Ricarda Herrer, a poor and alone immigrant cashier.

She adjusted the clingy, beige dress that clung to her curves in a way that made her uncomfortable. Every movement felt foreign and infuriating. Her large breasts, which she now had to contend with daily, felt heavy and alien, a constant reminder of her changed reality. Just like the big ass that would shake if she even walked a bit. Every step, sway of her wide hips or swing of her thighs, felt unnatural and unwanted.

Dangling from her ears were large, cheap, dangly hoop earrings, big and annoying, always hitting her when she turned her head. Why had she even bothered to put them on this morning? Probably because, despite the discomfort, she'd gotten used to them. In fact, they'd even somehow felt pretty this morning, or at least something close to pretty.

Her eyes narrowed as Ricarda noticed the old woman entering the shop, and her mind flashed back to those vile words that had turned her into a different version of herself. 'You will soon understand the pain you cause somebody', an elderly woman with a malicious glint in her eyes had told her. At that moment she was still an influential corrupt senator and just laughed loudly before walking away from the woman. But on next day's morning she woke up not in her fancy king-sized bed in the posh Washington D.C. penthouse, but in this cheap rundown studio. And to her biggest dismay her body had changed, completely. She now felt the weight and heft of her newly acquired large, round, jiggly butt.

Wanting to say something, she barely opened her mouth, but did not have time to do so, because she felt the hand of the store owner slap her on her big, fat, bouncing ass.

"¡Ponte a trabajar, Herrer! Te pago para que no holgazanes." (Get to work, Herrer! I pay you not to loiter.)

"Yo solo..." (I just...) she clenched her teeth, glaring at the old woman who turned out to be not the old woman, but usually a customer.

Ricarda sighed deeply and made her way to the storage room. She didn't want to think about it, but maybe this room could soon become her home... Thanks to this stupid law on immigrants and their residence permits, which will soon come into force, and which, being senators, lobbied for money.

"Malditos politicos" (Damn politicians) she mumbled, taking the uniform from the hanger and quickly getting dressed for work. There is no way in hell she'll be living here, she decided. But what choices did she actually have? She couldn't quit because that would mean instant deportation... but this law... she remembered with a cold shiver what white peoples in senat and her former friends, and even she, was talking about people like her now...

'Screw it, just don't think about it, that old woman is probably just thinking that I'll learn my lesson and then change me back' she shook her head and sighed, her big, bouncy breasts jiggling up and down with her steps and when she got to the checkout, she with her usual difficulty pulled a smile onto her face... as she had been doing for the fourth month since she became Ricarda.