Sudden Male Feminization Syndrome free porn video

Hey, whoever's reading this. I'm not much of a story-teller, but I have got a story to tell. First off, my name's Jane. It used to be Joe, then it was Jo for a little while, and that's pretty much what this is all about. I was a pretty depressed little boy. My parents watched sports and my brother played them. At school, all the boys wanted to be professional athletes and all the girls wanted to be performers or didn't have the self-awareness to consider the future at all. All but maybe a couple were wasting their time. At school, I just wanted to sit down, learn a couple things, and go home. At the end of the day, I was lucky if I learned one new thing. God forbid it be near a holiday, then the whole day would be wasted with a "party". I usually had my mom call me in sick those days. At home we had a computer or two. Those were fascinating. It was like there was another world in the computer that took up no space. It was a world I could teach myself about without having to go to stupid fucking elementary school. It was hard to teach myself, though, since my parents used AOL and gave me a kid's account, basically restricting every website in existence other than Nickelodeon. The Internet was a learning tool, not a damn marketing machine to suck in stupid little kids. Instead of figuring out my parents' passwords, I borrowed credit cards and went free trial hopping. You know how hard it is to cancel an AOL free trial before it starts charging? With my newly liberated Internet access, I was free to look at any website. All I originally wanted to do was download compilers and read programming references, but curiosity got the better of me, and searched for pictures of naked women. Woah! That's what boobs look like bare? They vary so much! What do they feel like? How do they move? What about vaginas? That's what they look like? They come in all shapes and sizes too! What does a vagina feel like? I quickly started to wonder what they felt like from the girl's perspective. I spent a lot of time looking at nude women and imagining myself in their spot (I preferred classy and/or candid nudes, not whores making whore faces while having sex or masturbating). I wanted to just sprout boobs of my own and play with them. I wanted to squeeze them. I wanted to feel them bounce in my hands or when I walked around. I wanted to rub lotion on them. I wanted to play with my sensitive, perky nipples. I wanted to reach into my own vagina and poke around. I even wanted to know what it'd feel like to have a pregnant belly. I never once questioned my sexuality. It seemed natural for a heterosexual male to be so interested in female bodies. I now know imagining myself with the female body isn't exactly normal for young men. I don't remember if I was sexually aroused. I wasn't masturbating, that's for sure. Touching my penis never really felt special. But I was super- curious. You see, as many little kids do, I watched TV lying on the ground, hands propping up my head, kicking my feet from time to time. I was vaguely aware that the pressure on my penis felt good. Once I connected the feel- good feeling of imagining myself with the body of a woman and the feel- good feeling of laying on my belly applying pressure to my penis, it was orgasmic. It felt better and better and I kicked faster and faster. Suddenly... squirt. At the tender age of eight or nine, I was ejaculating. And immediately after the squirt, all I felt was sticky. No cross-gender fantasy. No arousal. Just stupid and sticky. Somewhere along the line I came across the topic of transsexuals. It fascinated me. Men could take medicine to make their bodies shaped like women and have surgery to change their genitals and enhance what hormones alone couldn't do alone. They assumed the other gender's role, sometimes so convincingly they could attract partners who didn't know their past. Reading the effects of hormone therapy was the most arousing thing for me! Breast development, feminine fat distribution, softening of the skin, thinning of body hair, and hundreds of other tiny things that make you more like a girl. Oh it was hot! It still gets me aroused, but not as much anymore (I'm sure you have an idea why based on my name change). There were a couple problems with that. These "girls" knew they were girls their whole lives. Little boys would dress like girls and yell to their parents that God made a mistake. I never did any of that. I never questioned my gender when I was young. I was pretty comfortable with the fact that I was a boy, I just got aroused by the thought of turning into a girl. Average men don't wish to live in a world where they have sex 24/7, do they? That'd get exhausting I'd think. And the moment I'd ejaculate, all cross-gender desire would go away entirely, and I'd get up and go back to computer programming. Over the years, though, the desire to be a woman started to creep out into my everyday life. I watched my peers grow breasts and curves, and envied them so much, despite the fact that they grew increasingly mindless as well, especially around boys they liked (which was sometimes me, Goddammit!). Sometimes it was arousing to imagine myself in their place, growing teenage breasts of my own, but sometimes it was just a non-sexual longing. I didn't feel like a girl on the inside, but rather, some strange deviation of a boy who simply wanted to be a girl from time to time. Whether or not the the non-sexual longing grew out of the sexual one or simply unearthed it, I cannot say. But one thing is for certain; I decided I didn't have to be a boy anymore, and it'd be worth living the life of a girl just to have one's body. At the age of seventeen, I told my parents I wanted to be a girl, which absolutely shocked them since I didn't even hint at being gay. It freaked them out so much, we didn't really talk about it ever again. We both felt too awkward to bring it up, and so, I went back to my life of masturbating to the idea in private. Around my eighteenth birthday, I was on my belly, kicking away with my legs after reading an erotic transgender-themed story, when it all started to feel different. My penis got tucked up inside me like if you grab the ends of a sleeve your wearing and pull your hand in. It was squashed, not erect, yet felt ten times better than any feeling I've had in my genitals before. My whole body was contracting in waves of pleasure. It took a whole amazing minute to come to the orgasmic point I was used to, but I didn't ejaculate (a little moisture crept out, but I don't think it was semen), nor did my arousal die down right after. Instead, I kept at it and orgasmed again about five minutes later. And again. And again. I was at it for an hour or so and honestly lost count. I stopped out of sheer exhaustion, not loss of pleasure, and fell asleep to even more mild waves. That was probably the best sleep I ever got in my life. When I awoke, I researched by suspicion. Yes, what I experienced the night before was more like a woman's orgasm than a man's. I supposed it was physiologically possible. I once heard the most important sex organ is the brain. From imagining myself as a woman all those years, I guess I orgasmed like one... But even wilder dreams were soon to be fulfilled. Showering the next morning, I began to play with my chest fat, not anywhere near actual breasts. I've found that just about any man can jiggle his chest a little so long as his respective arms aren't flexed. But that morning, it hurt a little. It was like a circle around the nipple was harder and more tender. Were my dreams being fulfilled, or did I have a life-threatening estrogen-secreting tumor somewhere? I was probably just imagining things. The human body is complex. Tender breasts could be caused by anything. The tenderness never went away. Over the weeks, it grew slightly stronger and more wide-spread, but not particularly bothersome. And my orgasms were still very different from what I was used to. They weren't as sticky, which was very nice! I had been playing around with the breast thing in my head. Maybe I was actually growing breasts for some reason, earthly or mystical. But I also noticed my fingernails getting stronger. It may sound funny, but amidst the other signs, the fingernails were what pushed me over the edge. This feminizing phenomena was real and not just wishful thinking. In theory, I probably should have told someone in case it was all caused a tumor or something. But I didn't care. I was on my way to having the body I had longed for for nearly a decade. If it did turn out to be anything removable, dangerous or not, they'd still want to remove it, and that'd be the end of my fantasy. It seemed worth the risk to me to just keep it a secret. I was lucky all this was happening in the winter when I could wear thicker clothes to hide my blossoming body. And it was blossoming! By one month, I began to actually think of my chest-fat as "breasts". Visually, they didn't look like much, but they definitely had a lot more jiggle- potential than ever, and were growing. My areola went from about a half- inch diameter to 3/4-inch. And, oh!, they got sensitive. Before, I could maybe get a little tingle from touching my nipples, but now it made me get on the floor and start doing my thing. My skin got soft quickly and didn't change much after that. That's the only thing my mom noticed. I just told here I started using body lotion because of the dry winter. But what she never commented on and excited me even more was my thinning body-hair. I used to have thick, hairy legs. After one month, I estimated my leg-hair was half as thick. Where was it all going? Who cared? But something else was happening that took me by surprise. I needed to shave my face less often. Everything I had read said hormone therapy doesn't effect facial hair once it starts growing. This was beyond a hormone imbalance. With wider gaps between shaves, I noticed changes in my face as well. Every time I shaved, I was more and more confident that my face could pass as a girl's one day. I'm not the best observer and am no expert on faces, so I can't tell you how, but I could just tell it was more feminine. Still definitely my face, but a female version of it. A couple more months passed by. All my excessive male body hair was gone, and I was only shaving every other week. With my slimmer body and my cuter face, I could have passed as a girl without trying too hard. I'm sure I baffled store cashiers, especially with how androgynous my new wardrobe was. Yeah, I didn't want to start living as a girl right away. I figured I should give androgyny a shot before I grew too feminine. People who knew me as a boy still recognized me, but to strangers, it must have been fifty-fifty. Gradually, my voice became pleasantly androgynous too, something hormones alone aren't known to do either. I didn't just have flat, vaguely jiggly breasts anymore. They were boobs. Oh! how I loved them. They were everything I imagined and more. When I turned left too quickly, momentum kept them right, then overshot equilibrium to the left, then a little too far right again, etc. And oh my God! they were fun to play with. I could simply lie on my back, cup them in my palms, squeeze them every which way, and orgasm with that alone. It's a miracle I got any homework done. I had to concentrate on not groping them while sitting through my boring last semester of high school. Jumping was out of the question in public since I was still keeping this secret. Binding them worked for a while, but Summer was approaching, and I couldn't keep the secret forever. I had been experimenting with bras and bikini tops in department store dressing rooms and eventually gathered up the courage to buy a couple. But how was I supposed to tell my parents what was going on? My family had a hot tub that I had been avoiding for the last several months for obvious reasons. But one day, I heard them talking about getting in, so I went to my room and put on a bikini top under a big sweatshirt. When my parents asked me if I wanted to get in, I said okay, but... and stared at the ground for a while. When I gathered up enough courage, I shakily took of the sweatshirt and revealed to my parents for the first time that I had boobs. My dad started crying and couldn't figure out what to say. My mom was really confused. I made up some story that I had found a free LGBTQ health clinic to help me with hormone therapy, and that I was slowly but surely becoming a woman. They were too freaked out to ask any more questions. I got in the hot tub with my bikini top but still boy's bathing shorts, and hid my breasts under the bubbly water. My parents avoided eye-contact with me, and I doubted we'd ever really come to an understanding. They'd stay in denial forever. I took charge of my own life from then on. I contacted some of my school's administration and told them I was a transsexual and would be coming to school as a girl soon. My teachers and the school nurse were made to watch some educational videos on the subject, even though I think most of them didn't really apply to me exactly. All they had to know was I should be referred to by female pronouns and my changing body should not surprise them. I made it easier on everyone by not even bothering to change the pronunciation of my name, just turning Joe into Jo. All going to school as a girl really meant for me was getting to wear a bra and t- shirts that didn't have to hide my boobs. The rest of me was the same. Those were a fun last couple months of school. I had made my schedule so I wouldn't have to do any work or even pay any attention. Instead, I messed with my friends and enemies, boys and girls alike, by flirting with them. I don't think I was exactly hot, but definitely cute in a tomboyish way. I wasn't actually attracted to anyone, just liked to mess with their heads. I would catch my friends staring at my boobs and I'd grab them and start to squeeze and/or jiggle them in their direction. Oh man they hated that, knowing that just a few months ago I was one of the guys. They didn't know what to think or if it was okay to be attracted to me. I don't think I seriously damaged any of them, but I freaked them out pretty bad. I ended up keeping my androgynous wardrobe. My body was so much of a girl's that it didn't matter what I wore; I still passed as a girl. I experimented a little with makeup, but it never caught on. I hated feeling covered in synthetic goo. I felt cute enough on my own. I don't think my personality ever really changed. A part of me wanted to stay a cute tomboy, but another part was excited that I was still growing into a real hotty. I wish I could describe to you what it was like for my figure to change other than my breasts, but truth-be-told, I didn't notice. The slimming of my waist and fattening of my butt and thighs was so gradual I couldn't feel the difference. All I knew was every time I bought pants I needed to adjust the size a little, but people who saw me less frequently said they could tell the difference. My genitals were not only atrophying as a lack of testosterone would do, but actually receding. My scrotum was tightening and pulling my shrinking testicles inside my body, and my penis was getting shorter every day. After everything that had happened, this didn't surprise me, but if I went to any doctor, I'm sure it'd be the greatest medical mystery of all time. Lucky for me, though, I didn't need my genitals anymore to orgasm. Sure, I felt good down there, but I didn't need to touch myself there. All the physical stimulation came from playing with my boobs and newly puffy nipples. I let my college of choice know I'd become a girl since I applied. I was surprised at how sensitive they were to the issue. They set me up with another transgendered roommate and let us know we were allowed to stay in the girls' dorm and keep our pasts secret if we wanted. I guess it's not as rare an issue as I had thought. My roommate's name was Sam. How unfair, she didn't even have to change how she spelled her name when she became a girl! She was cute but still had a prominent Adam's apple and her voice hinted at a male past. Life was hard for transsexuals! She told me all about how expensive doctors were, drugs were, hair removal was, oh it sounded awful. All I could do was smile and nod like I had the same experience. She eventually asked too many questions and I couldn't keep my lies straight anymore. She suspected I wasn't a transsexual at all, so I grudgingly showed her my shrinking genitals. Showing them just once suggested I was maybe a hermaphrodite (I guess at that point I kind of was), but showing her every week over time proved to her it was more than science could currently explain. Luckily, she understood my desire for secrecy, and became the only other person who knew the full extent of my transformation. All this time I was becoming more and more voluptuous. Guys were asking me out left and right, but I just told them I wasn't interested. People started to suspect I was a lesbian, so some cute girls started asking me out too! More my type (if I even have a type) but I turned them down too. Sexually, I was self-sufficient, and emotionally, well, I didn't ever really need anyone by my side. Eventually, my crotch was basically flat with a little sensitive bump and a tiny slit good for nothing but peeing. My testicles (ovaries?) were somewhere inside me and there was no hint of a scrotum anymore. Months later, the tip of my penis had basically become a clitoris. The slit was getting longer and wider and the area around it was getting a little fatty. As my new labia got bigger, I began to notice I actually had two holes: a tiny one for peeing and a bigger one for sticking fun things in. But at that point, I'd be lucky if a pencil fit, so I ignored it until it got bigger. My boobs still hadn't stopped growing. Sam was so jealous of me for everything. The fact that my tits were still growing was sexually exciting, but they were just beginning to get a little burdensome too. They were already bigger than most women's, but not quite yet ridiculous. I was worried they'd never stop! A few more weeks down the line, they seemed to finally stop growing (thank God!). I was the hottest computer engineering student ever! Things were looking perfect. I was on my way to the career I wanted, and I had the body I wanted. As soon as I felt like my vagina was big enough to try sticking things in, shit started coming out! I was menstruating, but when the hell did I even get a uterus? I guess it can't all be perfect. I had no idea how to handle it, but since just about every young woman ends up going through this, there's plenty of easy-to-find info out there, and I managed to deal with it without ever seeing a doctor. Lucky for me, I only bleed for two or three days at a time, don't get too uncomfortable, and I don't get noticeably moody. It was just over a year from when I first started transforming, and I had a working female reproductive system. Amazing! Sam noticed the tampons and bashfully inquired about them. I told her I was basically one-hundred percent female now. She hadn't seen my genitals since my labia started growing, and I kind of wanted to show it all off. Sam and I didn't talk about our sexualities much. But the way I understand it, someone like Sam, aka has a penis but low testosterone, doesn't have much of a libido. But when she saw me fully naked, I don't know how, but it turned her on! She couldn't hide it. Her outfit wasn't meant to handle and erect penis. I wasn't turned on by her, but the fact that she was turned on by me made me uncontrollably hot. We didn't think about it. I tore her clothes off. She was nowhere near gorgeous, but not gross either, kind of like me early in my transformation. It was the first time I ever got particularly wet. I shoved her inside me with ease. Oh, that was the first thing other than a curious finger that had ever been in my vagina. It feels exactly as you'd expect it. I was always told the first time a girl has sex, it hurts, and sometimes things break and bleed. I guess whatever mystical force that transformed me blessed me with a crotch that had already been broken in. It felt gooood, her moving around inside me, our bare breasts calmly cushioned against each other. I loved it. To the surprise of us both, Sam ejaculated a little in me. She had been on estrogen and androgen blockers for two years! She should have been more or less incapable of that. She should have been incapable of sex entirely! What happened? Poor Sam. I remember the feeling of a male orgasm. One second you're on top of the world, and the next you just feel sticky and ashamed. And oh, she was ashamed! She apologized to me over and over, but I made sure to stress I was in no way bothered by what had happened. It was far more important I help her deal with whatever internal demons she had with her gender and sexual identities. Living two years as a woman and suddenly taking part in the male role in sex with your magical male-to-female roommate... naturally it'd freak anybody out. Ironically, the sex didn't bond us. It was me helping her through the emotional pain of having sex that brought us together. It didn't take us long to agree that we were "partners" for lack of a better term. Now, two amazing things happened after all that. Sam let me know that after our sexual episode, she started to be able to orgasm on her own in the less-male way I described earlier. Could she be transforming too? She was already mostly-female by medicine. What would happen now? Was whatever changed me contagious? And if contagious, is it a disease? But, more importantly, I missed my period. Three over-the-counter pregnancy tests agreed. I was pregnant. Two people born male, one mysteriously turned female, the other by medicine, were having a baby... Sam, super-excited about the prospect of turning into a total woman like me was overwhelmed by the news of my pregnancy. What were we going to do? Honestly, the thought of having a plump pregnant belly turned me on, and the whole experience made me extremely curious. An abortion was out of the question. And in Sam's eyes, I had bestowed upon her the ultimate gift for transsexuals. She would follow me anywhere. As a couple, we decided it'd be worth it to run away. Things would get hairy if people who knew me as a transsexual found out I was pregnant. Too many questions. And I had never really liked school. Over the years, I had accumulated a small amount of money doing free-lance computer programming. It was just enough to move far away and start a family and business. We moved clear to the opposite side of the country and adopted new identities. Sam and I became Margret and Jane respectively, known to everyone as simply natal female lesbians. We started a small online computer business that we could manage from home. It was far from lucrative, but it kept us in great financial shape for nineteen-year-old college runaways. Those were good times. Margret threw out all her pills and was turning into a gorgeous woman all on her own. All at the same time, my belly was expanding and I was growing pregnancy-boobs. Dang it, I was already getting used to their size! Oh well. Margret's voice and face became more distinctly female. While my boobs were hurting and swelling, hers were flat-out growing! I couldn't keep my hands off her! But she kept her pants on; her genitals still freaked her out even though they was definitely becoming female just like mine. All my dreams had come true. I was a sexy woman, totally pregnant, and I even had a sexy female partner who owed everything to me. We were financially sound already at the age of twenty, and I was starting to look forward to actually being a mother. It's a common misconception that labor always starts with water breaking. No, I knew I was in labor when it felt like my insides were going to explode if something didn't come out soon! Margret drove me to the hospital. Sure, it was uncomfortable, but I was too excited to care. I just did the stereotypical breathing exercise to get over the pain, and soon enough, something started coming out. Oh, it burned, but who cared? It was the worst pain in my life, but big deal. Come one. A human life was coming out of me! Above all, out of a place that was a regular male penis and scrotum only two years earlier! A little boy came out. We named him James. My breasts had been vaguely leaking milk in the months leading up to birth, but when James started sucking on my honkers (again, where there was a flat chest only two years earlier), it flowed! I had no idea my own body could produce that much milk! I guess Margret was so hormonal and motherly that she began lactating too, and we were able to share the burden. Margret's first period was the same time as my first one after James was born. I once read that when girls are close friends their menstrual cycles get in line. We were synchronized from the start. Margret's genitals were complete. When we weren't taking care of James, we were experimenting in the bedroom. We discovered we liked to take turns with strap-on dildos and suck eachother's nipples. Even after we stopped breast-feeding James, our sexual activities were enough to keep lactation going. James was one of those kids that you know is gay by the time he's six. Man, he was a little fruit, but that didn't bother Margret and I one bit. Apparently, Margret was like that too when she was little Sam, and she thought she was a gay boy for a while. Clearly sexual preferences can change (she loves my boobs!). All his life, we let James know he could tell us anything and we'd try to understand (something Margret and I wish we had when we were young boys questioning our genders). I imagine having lesbian parents helps, but he was so confident that he managed to tell us that he longed to be a girl by the age of ten! He was so relieved to hear we both used to be boys too, and was young and naive enough to not question how we could be his parents then. In general, I don't think transsexuality is a generational phenomena, but with how mysterious Margret and my transformations were, I didn't rule it out. Like me, he wasn't totally sure about it at that age, so we put him on puberty-delaying hormones to keep him from turning into a man or woman. He also started going by the androgynous name "Jamie". Though the possibility had crossed my mind (my scientific mind!) I wasn't about to have sex with my child on the chance that he'd magically transform into a woman too! That's sick! Without ever going through puberty, Jamie had no hint of a libido at all. So when he suddenly started having the now-familiar female orgasms at the age of eighteen, it scared him and he told us. Yep, he had begun to turn into a girl too just as I did at that age. Margret and I told him our whole stories. His fear was overtaken by excitement, and we started referring to him as a her from that day forward. It took me a little over a year to fully transform from young man to young woman. When Margret started transforming, she already had a head start, and it took her the nine months of my pregnancy. So naturally, an unsexed body with an immature penis like Jamie's took somewhere in the middle at eleven months. Her transformation was kind of awkward, though, since she had never gone through a puberty at all, and was growing taller at the same time as curvier. When she started menstruating, she was completely sexually mature, but wasn't done growing taller. Her boobs were too big for her childish body! But don't worry; that cleared up within the next year. She was so hot and, unlike us, attracted to guys. Naturally, we, as any parents with a hot daughter, were worried about her all the time! But we were open-minded and put her on birth control to be safe. She was smart but not quite able to drop everything and raise a baby like Margret and I were. From what we could tell, Jamie was very selective. She had only dated a couple guys and those were for short periods of time, more experiments with infatuation than anything. They didn't have ugly breakups either, just died down interest. And I really doubt they were having sex now that I think about it, because for Brad, well, it caused trouble... Brad was Jamie's first (only) long-term real relationship. So they had sex one night. But the next time Brad shamefully admitted that while he was still aroused with Jamie, it was different and he wasn't getting erect anymore... SHIT! Whatever this was definitely spread with sexual intercourse. But the three of us (Margret, Jamie and I) actually wanted it. Brad was, as far as I know, a typical heterosexual male. What the fuck would this do to him, physically and emotionally? Jamie, terrified (and I imagine sobbing), had to tell Brad our whole story, and what she guessed was happening to him. He had all the right to hate Jamie. She hadn't told him she used to be a boy, but more importantly, the risks of having sex with her. Honestly, the thought hadn't really crossed any of our minds. But, God bless his soul, Brad didn't get mad. He was scared and confused and his whole life was about to change, but none of the blame landed on Jamie, Margret or I. Poor Brad. He was the first of us to not want it. He wanted to stop it and let doctors in on it. He kept our family a secret, but he himself became that great medical mystery I had predicted and intentionally avoided. Try as they might, no amount of testosterone injections had any effect on his rate of change. So they surgically removed most of his breast tissue. No good. It grew back! I bet if you cut off one of our arms, it'd grow back! He was destined to be a sexy woman. They couldn't stop it. He began to accept and even look forward to his fate. Did whatever this was make us want it too? Jamie and I were probably born with it, and we wanted it from a young age. The baffled medical community named it sudden male feminization syndrome (SMFS). Genetically he was still an XY male, and out of curiosity, I had Jamie, Margret and I tested too. So were we. The doctors got to watch his insides change, something the rest of us knew little about. I'm no medical expert, so they're findings made no sense to me. Needless to say, Brad's insides did an intricate ballet on the way to womanhood. He carefully told the doctors he thought it might be sexually transmitted without giving our family secret away. So they looked into it and found nothing. What the Hell? But as soon as he had eggs to observe, they had a field day with those. Apparently half our eggs carry our X chromosome and the other half our Y. But for whatever reason they only bind with sperm with the opposite chromosome, meaning we're destined to have only XY sons who probably have SMFS too. Weird stuff. Jamie stayed by Brad's side through the whole thing. Surprise surprise, they stayed a dating couple too. After a little thought and a lot of therapy, Brad started going by Brady, which I find hilarious because I looked it up and it may or may not mean "large-chested" in old Irish! And the way I understand it, Jamie ended up sexually attracted to the newly- female, large-chested Brady, which is great because I imagine they're a hot couple. Jamie and Brady lost their chance of having a baby through natural conception, but geneticists are close to getting same-sex partners babies of their own. I bet it's just a matter of legislation at this point. They could both be pregnant together! Wouldn't that be cute!? That's our story so far. One year we're boys and the next, we're girls. We end up HOT and I think the whole experience is even hotter than how we end up. Will this spread? Will Brady and Jamie's children have this and pass it on to their unsuspecting partners? Society will start to fear us, but that's not for my generation to deal with. No, I love what's happened to me. So does Margret and Jamie, and I guess Brady is pretty happy about it too now. We're like a sexy new human race. But what are the implications for the the rest of the world?