Fake “doctor” injected her face with cement—see her transformation 14 years later

Rajee Narinesingh gained widespread attention after being dubbed “Cement Face,” following a black market plastic surgery disaster in the mid-2000s. The surgery, performed by the infamous “toxic tush doctor” Oneal Ron Morris, involved injecting Narinesingh with a harmful mixture of cement, superglue, and tire sealant. This caused severe deformities in her face and body. Fortunately, Narinesingh later appeared on the TV show Botched, where professional surgeons helped repair the damage.

Here’s a closer look at Rajee’s life, her journey to recovery, and what she looks like today.

Rajee Narinesingh’s Early Life

Born in New York on April 7, 1967, Narinesingh knew from a young age that she was different from other boys. Raised in Philadelphia, she felt more like a woman inside and struggled with her identity. As she grew older, she decided to undergo several plastic surgeries, but the high costs led her to seek cheaper, unregulated options.

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The Black Market Surgery

In 2005, Narinesingh met Oneal Ron Morris, who falsely claimed to be a plastic surgeon. Desperate to align her physical appearance with her gender identity, Narinesingh agreed to receive injections from Morris. The substances used, including cement and superglue, left her face and other body parts severely deformed. 

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Narinesingh paid just $100 per session and received around ten injections between 2007 and 2010. Initially excited, she soon faced the nightmare of hardened lumps forming under her skin, leaving her horrified and housebound.

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Recovery and Transformation

Too embarrassed to seek help from the police, Narinesingh felt like a “monster.” But in 2012, she found hope with Dr. John Martin of Coral Gables Cosmetic Reconstructive Surgery, who treated her with softening injections and laser therapy. Her transformation from victim to victorious continued when she appeared on Botched in 2016. Over seven weeks, she underwent four surgeries to remove the toxic fillers, regaining her confidence and self-esteem. She even began dating again, humorously recalling a man calling her a “sexy dragon.”

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Life Today

Narinesingh has since become a prominent public figure, advocating for transgender rights and educating others about the dangers of black market procedures. She’s appeared on over 30 television shows globally and has written three books about her experiences. Now living in Florida, she works with the LGBTQ community and spreads awareness about HIV prevention.

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Narinesingh has embraced her journey, calling the hardships she endured a “blessing” because they allowed her to amplify her advocacy work. She’s active on Instagram, sharing her life and inspiring others.

Oneal Ron Morris’ Fate

Morris was sentenced to 10 years in prison in 2017 after one of her patients died. In 2021, Morris reached out to Narinesingh, seeking forgiveness. Despite the past, Narinesingh accepted Morris’ apology, reflecting her belief in learning from mistakes and growing stronger from adversity.

A Brave Survivor

Rajee Narinesingh’s story is one of incredible resilience and transformation. From the devastating effects of illegal surgery to reclaiming her life, she continues to inspire others with her activism and courage.

Share this inspiring story to spread awareness and celebrate Rajee’s strength.

I Married the Woman My Father Chose for Me — On Our Wedding Night, She Shocked Me by Saying, ‘From Now On, You Must Do Everything I Tell You’

Forced into an arranged marriage to save my family’s business, I expected awkward small talk on my wedding night. But then Adriana gave me an order: “From now on, you must do everything I tell you.” Was this a joke? No. It was a power play — and if I refused, my family would lose everything.

“Son, I wouldn’t ask this of you if there was any other way,” my father said, his voice lacking its usual commanding tone.

A man seated at a desk in a corner office | Source: Midjourney

A man seated at a desk in a corner office | Source: Midjourney

“You’re certain the only way to save the business is for me to marry some woman I’ve never met?” I couldn’t keep the disbelief from my voice.

He sighed. “Adriana is Victor’s daughter. The merger with his company is the only thing that can save us now. And he’s… traditional. He wants to unite the families.”

“So I’m just a bargaining chip?” The words tasted bitter.

“James, please understand—”

“No, Dad. I understand perfectly.”

An unhappy man in an office | Source: Midjourney

An unhappy man in an office | Source: Midjourney

“You built this company, made all the decisions that led to this point, and now I have to clean up your mess by selling myself like some medieval prince.”

His face fell. “Just meet Adriana before you decide.”

I wanted to refuse. But the desperation in my father’s eyes stopped me.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I’ll meet her. But I’m not promising anything.”

A serious-looking man | Source: Midjourney

A serious-looking man | Source: Midjourney

We met in a restaurant a few days later. Adriana was breathtakingly beautiful with a voice like honey and eyes that assessed everything in seconds.

“I appreciate you agreeing to meet me,” she said as she took her seat. “This situation is… unconventional, but I think we can make it work.” She smiled faintly and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “Let’s get better acquainted first. What would you like to know about me, James?”

A smiling woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The conversation flowed freely after that. Adriana was intelligent, witty, and surprisingly easy to talk to. By the time we parted ways, I found myself rethinking my opposition.

“She’s incredible,” I told my father the next day.

Relief washed over his face. “So you’ll do it?”

I hesitated. Something still felt wrong, but seeing the hope in my father’s eyes…

“Yes,” I finally said. “I’ll marry Adriana.”

A man in an office smiling faintly | Source: Midjourney

A man in an office smiling faintly | Source: Midjourney

Our wedding was a business transaction disguised as a celebration. Corporate partners filled the pews, the vows felt like contract terms, and even the kiss seemed negotiated — brief, proper, for show.

The reception dragged on until finally, we were alone in the presidential suite of a five-star hotel.

Adriana kicked off her heels and sat on the edge of the massive bed. I adjusted my tie, unsure of what came next in this strange arrangement.

A man adjusting his tie | Source: Pexels

A man adjusting his tie | Source: Pexels

Adriana locked eyes with me. “From now on, you must do everything I tell you.”

“Excuse me?” I laughed, certain she was joking. “Right. And what’s your first command, Your Highness?”

Her expression didn’t change. “I’m hungry. Go get me a burger from the McDonald’s on Grant Street. Walk there.”

“Adriana, it’s almost midnight. Grant Street is nearly two miles away.”

An incredulous man | Source: Midjourney

An incredulous man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m aware.” Her smile was cold. “Better get going.”

I stared at her, waiting for the punchline. It never came.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious, James. My father only agreed to this marriage because your father promised you’d do whatever I wanted. That was the deal. So, you can either be my servant… or watch your family go bankrupt.”

A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney

A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney

I was stunned. Within a few hours, Adriana had transformed from a witty, easygoing woman into an authoritative stranger. One I couldn’t refuse without risking it all.

“Fine. One burger coming up.”

In the elevator, I pulled out my phone and called a taxi. I might be trapped in this marriage, but I wouldn’t be completely powerless.

A man's finger pressing an elevator button | Source: Pexels

A man’s finger pressing an elevator button | Source: Pexels

The next morning set the tone for what would become my new normal. Adriana woke me at 6 a.m.

“Press my blue suit,” she instructed. “Then make coffee. Black, one sugar.”

“I’m not your butler,” I protested.

She looked at me with those cool eyes. “No, you’re my husband. Which means you’re whatever I need you to be.”

A woman smiling smugly | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling smugly | Source: Midjourney

Each day brought new demands. Wash her car by hand. Pick up her dry cleaning. Massage her feet after work. Each task was more demeaning than the last.

“Why are you doing this?” I finally asked one evening as I polished her collection of designer shoes.

“Because I can,” she replied simply. “What could be better than having a man who caters to my every need?”

I continued the task in silence, but my mind was racing.

A foot in a high-heeled boot | Source: Pexels

A foot in a high-heeled boot | Source: Pexels

She thought she was breaking me, but she was teaching me instead. Every demand revealed something about her routines and her weaknesses.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I went to my father.

“She’s turned me into her personal servant,” I confessed.

His face fell. “I had no idea, son. But the contract with Victor…”

“Can’t be broken without bankrupting us,” I finished for him. “I know.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be,” I replied, a plan already forming. “I’ll handle Adriana.”

A determined man | Source: Midjourney

A determined man | Source: Midjourney

The tiny wireless cameras were easy to install. I put them everywhere: the living room, the kitchen, her study, our bedroom.

For two weeks, I collected evidence of Adriana ordering me around like a dog, threatening to destroy my family if I disobeyed, and laughing on the phone with her friends about how she had me “completely under control.”

All while her Instagram portrayed us as the perfect couple. “Power duo,” she called us in her captions. If only her followers knew.

A woman taking a selfie | Source: Midjourney

A woman taking a selfie | Source: Midjourney

The breaking point came on a rainy Tuesday night.

“I want sushi,” she announced from the couch. “From Akira. You’ll walk there.”

“That’s three miles away,” I pointed out.

“So? Take an umbrella.” She didn’t even look up from her phone.

“No,” I said simply.

The word hung in the air between us. She slowly raised her head, eyes narrowing.

A woman on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

A woman on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

“What did you say?”

“I said no, Adriana. I’m not going.”

She stood, her face flushing with anger. “You don’t say no to me. Ever. Or have you forgotten what happens if you don’t play along?”

“Go ahead,” I challenged. “Call your father. Tell him how disappointed you are.”

“You know I will.” She reached for her phone. “And your family will be finished.”

A glaring woman | Source: Midjourney

A glaring woman | Source: Midjourney

I smiled. “I don’t think so.”

Her fingers paused over the screen. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Call him,” I urged. “Please. I insist.”

Confusion flickered across her face, but she made the call, putting it on speaker.

“Daddy? We have a problem. James is being difficult. I think we need to reconsider—”

“Adriana.” Her father’s voice was ice cold. “What the hell have you been doing?”

A cell phone | Source: Pexels

A cell phone | Source: Pexels

She froze. “What do you mean?”

“James sent me videos. Dozens of them. I had no idea this was what you had in mind when you said you wanted him to do everything you said! Is this how I raised you to behave? Like a tyrant?”

The color drained from her face as she looked at me, finally understanding.

“You recorded me?” she whispered.

I nodded. “Every moment. Every demand.”

A man with crossed arms | Source: Midjourney

A man with crossed arms | Source: Midjourney

“Adriana,” her father continued, “you’ve handed your husband enough blackmail material to destroy our family’s reputation, and he made it clear he’ll use it, too. You’re getting divorced. Those were his conditions: a divorce from you that leaves the business arrangement with his father intact. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she managed, her voice small.

When the call ended, she turned to me, eyes pleading. “Please, you can’t do this to me! It will ruin my image if we divorce.”

A teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels

A teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels

I smiled. This was an opportunity to teach her a valuable lesson.

“I’ll consider staying,” I replied. “But only if you obey my demands.”

Outrage and fury flickered in her eyes, but she nodded.

For the next two weeks, Adriana got a taste of her own medicine. I didn’t go nearly as far as she had, but I made sure she understood what it felt like to be controlled.

A downtrodden woman | Source: Midjourney

A downtrodden woman | Source: Midjourney

“Fetch my coffee,” I would say. “And remember, two sugars.”

She would comply, her jaw tight, her eyes burning with hatred.

Meanwhile, I had my lawyers working on divorce papers. When they were ready, I left them on the kitchen counter for her to find.

“What’s this?” she asked, picking them up.

A woman holding an envelope | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding an envelope | Source: Midjourney

“Divorce papers,” I replied calmly. “Our marriage is over.”

“But, you said you’d stay if I obeyed you!” Her voice shook. “You lied to me!”

“Yes,” I agreed, “and I hope you learned something from it. We might’ve actually been able to make this work, Adriana, if you hadn’t used that business deal as a way to enslave me. Pack your things and get out of my apartment.”

A satisfied man | Source: Midjourney

A satisfied man | Source: Midjourney

“And before you go,” I added, “post on your Instagram that we’re separating amicably, by mutual agreement.”

“And if I don’t?” she challenged.

I held up my phone. “Then these videos go public.”

An hour later, her perfectly crafted post appeared. “After much reflection, James and I have decided to part ways. We remain committed to our families’ shared business interests and wish each other well.”

Social media icons on a phone screen | Source: Pexels

Social media icons on a phone screen | Source: Pexels

The door closed behind her, and for the first time since our wedding day, I could breathe freely again.

This arranged marriage had cost me months of dignity, but it had taught me something valuable: no contract, family obligation, or financial concern was worth surrendering control of my life.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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