"Beginning follicle alterations," the machine said. A large helmet came from the ceiling, plopping down firm on James's head. He tried to pull, pry and shake it off, but the helmet followed his head and body everywhere he went. Even with clunky cords and cables connecting to the ceiling, the helmet couldn't be removed. It could not be snared. It could not be snagged. It would not budge in the slightest.
James could feel liquids being massaged onto his scalp. Whatever the machine was doing, it was doing so fast and efficiently. The chemical stench made him cringe, as he could only imagine what was happening under the dome.
His head starting getting hotter and hotter as heating elements finalized the procedures. James tried the doorknob one final time. Maybe he could sneak out while the machine was switching between protocols. Maybe the gaps in between loading processes was enough to escape. As soon as the helmet disengaged, if he moved fast enough, he could escape.
And maybe he could. James would never know. He missed the opportunity. As soon as the helmet detached from his head, James saw the crown of golden, wavy locks descend around his face. He had always had the same hair color as his sister, but he wore it short like any man would. Buzzed and trimmed so short, the golden sheen bronzed and darkened. But now, the decidedly feminine hairstyle so proudly worn by his sister sat upon his head, in both style and shade. Sunny, radiant, and bouncing with every movement, the appearance of James's new hair froze him in place.
"Beginning bodily alterations," the machine said.
Does the machine change James's entire body, or just the appearance of it
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