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David woke up cold. He found himself in a plexiglass cell with laminate floors. The pillow on the cot looked as though he had drooled right into the center. How goddamn embarrassing. These were not his clothes. These were more like pajamas, light cloth, more appropriate for the Dubai climate. Wherever he was now, it didn't feel like Dubai. A constant hum softened by thick walls, a noticeable slow shift in the floor, small windows leading to blinding light.. This was a ship. A guard's desk opposite the cell in the room sat empty. He called out through a cluster of small holes in the plexiglass towards an open door. "Is somebody there? Hello?" A red light in the corner of the room caught his eye. A camera lens geared forward, adjusted focus, and stared at him. Somebody was home. He waved his hand. Carpeted footsteps hurried from somewhere in the hallway. Uniformed servants entered the room carrying covered platters on wooden folding stands. They uncovered the food, lowered their eyes, and left without a word. Before David could contemplate why they would leave a massive amount of food completely out of reach from inside his cage, sounds of laughing voices approached the hall. Half a dozen Arab men wearing impeccably white robes stepped inside, casually browsing the feast before them. Upon seeing David, they applauded. David couldn't tell if they were happy to see him, happy to see him jailed, or just insane. They seemed to congratulate each other as they ate. One approached the cell, taking a small bite from a fig. "American?" he asked in heavily accented, uncertain English. "Yes," David replied. "American!" the man repeated to the others. They cheered and clapped their hands. Dave sat back on the cot, perplexed. "Up," the man commanded. David obeyed, wondering what he had done to deserve this. He didn't remember drinking to excess, or at all for that matter. Yet here he was, jailed on a cruise ship he didn't remember boarding. "Put arms. Hands, put hands up," the man motioned, stretching his arms out. David did as he was told. The men stepped forward to the wall of the cell, talking to each other about what they saw. David's cursory Gulf Arabic lessons never prepared him for this. They pointed to parts of his body and nodded as they spoke, like inspecting a good car before purchase. A new face entered the room, more elegantly dressed, followed by a servant. He had a well groomed greying beard. The men cheered his arrival and welcomed him to the feast. Or thanked him for it. The man stepped to the cell and gently put his hands against the plexiglass. He smiled kindly, looking up at David. "You will be wonderful," he said in English. The men patted his back. One handed him a glass of something to drink. As he sipped the tea, his eyes never left David. "Did I do something?" David asked quietly. The men laughed, ignoring him. They toasted each other with water and tea and coffee and left the room a few at a time, leaving the new face, his servant, and David alone. The man softly ran his hand down the surface of the cell and clapped his hands together, giving a slight bow as he left, smiling. The servant remained. "His name is Ayaan. And no," he said. "Is that what you thought? You thought you did something?" "I don't even know how I got here." "They took you from Dubai, from your hotel." David sat back onto the cot. "You've been kidnapped, David." David contemplated it for a moment. "Are they terrorists?" The servant smirked. "My god, you really are American, aren't you. No. No they are not terrorists." He grabbed a handful of olives and squatted down next to David's cell, facing him at eye level. "I don't have any money." "Look around at this place," he said chewing. "You think these are the kind of people who need money? They don't." Bored by David's confusion, he got to the point. "It's a sex thing, David. It's always about sex." "Yeah, well-" "Get angry all you want, it won't help you. If you keep your head down and do as you're told, you'll find yourself back on the mainland." "And if-" "And if you don't, you'll find yourself at the bottom of the Indian Ocean with your stomach sliced open." He wiped the oil from his hands onto his pants and stood up. "You're not the first person to sit where you sit right now, you know. They will kill you if you do so much as disrespect them. Do you understand? Especially Ayaan." He picked through the food left on the platters. "Are you hungry? The food is very good here." David stared at the floor. "Suit yourself." He bent down in front of David, making himself unavoidable. "Look at me. Do you want to live?" "..Of course I want to live." "Good. Me too. Then it is very simple: never show them anger. Never cross them. They will kill you, David. They will murder you out here and nobody will care or find out. I think you're smart enough to understand without me saying exactly what these men are." He was. If they were wealthy enough to own this place, this ship, this cell, these servants, they were likely above any law that would come looking, if any came at all. This wasn't just wealth, this was power. David had read about sex traffickers. The thought that they would target men never even occurred to him. "David, you're not going to like this. I'm not lying to you. This will not be pleasant for you at all." He could see David shuffle in his seat, imagining what terrible things he could mean. "Just don't make them angry, give in to-" interrupted by a voice in the hallway, he stood, looked sympathetically at the pitiful man before him, and left. David sat on the toilet in the cell and pissed. His body wouldn't stop shaking. A guard entered the room and sat at the desk. David finished and pulled up his pants, embarrassed and afraid. The guard didn't look at him. David allowed himself to sink onto the cot, holding his legs with his arms, shivering under a thin blanket. He imagined the worst of what was to come. If he knew the truth, he wouldn't have been so quiet. - - Ayaan scolded his servant as he walked quickly down the long, carpeted hallway. "I don't know why you talk to them, Halim. Don't be stupid." "The truth?" "Always." "I feel sorry for them." "If this is so distasteful to you, you are free to leave my service." "Not at all, sir. I didn't mean to offend." Ayaan stopped in front of large, exquisite marble doors and faced his servant. "Do you disapprove of what we do? "No, sir." "Have you not participated yourself, without cost, I should remind you.." "I have." Ayaan smiled brightly and grabbed his man by the shoulders. "And was it not the most amazing thing you have ever witnessed in your lifetime? Wasn't it beautiful?" "Yes. Yes it was." "Then why do you feel this way?" "You're right." "Stop that," he balked, opening the giant door with a keypad on the wall of the corridor. "I want you to tell me the truth. Not like those sycophants." Halim frowned. There was no good way to say it. "I imagine what it must be like." "Ha! Terrifying, I imagine." "Yes, sir." Mechanisms inside the door whirred and clicked. Heavy bolts unlocked somewhere in the wall, the door swung open, silently. "And that, Halim," he said, stepping inside, "is what makes it so goddamn powerful. To see that. To witness it. If you didn't fear it, something great would be lost." "Will you kill him?" "I hope not. It would be rude to disappoint guests, after all. If he doesn't work out we'll have to go to India or Kenya and start all over again. It's such a pain to find an American these days. They want an American." The room was wide with an impossibly long table at its center, surrounded by comfortable chairs. Ayaan gestured toward a line of servants who started arranging glasses of tea and cheese and several of the seats. "Halim, talk to him if you want. Do whatever you like." He sat at the end of the table. "But I want you there again when it happens. I want to remind you why we go through all this trouble." "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." "You better damn well thank me," he said with a grin. Halim turned to leave. "And tell me the moment Messenger arrives. Do not keep her waiting." "Of course." "If you do, you may find out exactly what it's like to be one of these poor bastards." Halim felt a chill race across his back. This wasn't one of Ayaan's threats. This was a warning to be careful. He made an effort to stop picturing the consequences. - - David paced uncomfortably in his cell. If he stretched his arms upwards, his hands touched the ceiling. The cell was cramped and chilly. One or two quick steps and he had to turn again. The guard looked up once or twice but otherwise ignored him. Servants came and went from the room, emptying the platters of food into garbage bags and sweeping the floor. Some gestured to David while talking to each other quietly. Some looked amused, others concerned. David did as many situps and pushups as his body allowed. Anything to keep his mind occupied. The moment he rested, his thoughts went to sickening places. The exercise at least warmed him a little. He heard some commotion coming from the hallway. A servant ran crying into the room, cowering in a corner. One of the men in the white robes chased after. The guard stood up and stepped back from the desk, showing the palms of his hands, refusing to intervene. The man in the white robe screamed something in anger and fired a loud, powerful handgun wildly at the servant. The servant screamed, grabbing his arm. The flat popping sound of the shots echoed off the walls of the cell, making David's ears ring painfully. He made a feeble attempt to hide under the cot. The man walked to the bleeding servant and shot him in the head. The screaming stopped abruptly. The man left the room, angry. Halim appeared quickly in the doorway with a dozen frightened looking servants. As Halim spoke to the guard, David watched a pool of blood spread from the corner of the room and touch the surface of the plexiglass cell. His heart beat alarmingly fast. Halim instructed the servants and they began their work. "He rolled his eyes at him," Halim said to David, almost sadly. The servants carried the body from the room and returned with cleaning supplies. A servant whispered something to Halim. He took one last look at the mess in the corner and walked away. David could hear men laughing at the body as it was carried down the hallway. Men in white robes passed by the door, smiling at David. - - Halim burst through a set of doors in the library and approached Ayaan. "Messenger has arrived, sir." "Excellent. Is she meeting here?" "I thought it would be more comfortable than the boardroom." "Good. Good work. Please, have someone bring some water." An impressive number of servants filed into the library, lining the walls. Halim poured water into a couple glasses on a small table and joined them. They all looked terrified. All but Ayaan. A petite Indian woman with luxurious green robes and braided black hair entered the room, smiling warmly. Ayaan stood to greet her. To an outsider, it would seem strange that this tiny, bubbly thing could be the cause of so much fear. "Ayaan," she said. "Our friend." "Messenger. It is an honor to be called your friend." He guided her to a chair. They sat close. "I suppose you are eager to hear word of The Ancient?" "As you like." "She finds you fascinating, Ayaan." "You flatter me, Messenger." "Not at all. Consider: your wealth is enough to call upon someone with such power. You can afford the abilities of gods! But do you spend your wealth on armies? Or nations? Do you destroy civilizations that displease you, as is ever your right? No- you spend your chance at empire on this strange indulgement of yours." Ayaan smiled. She leaned closer. "Tell me, truly. With all things available to you, with everything possible, this is all that you want?" "Yes." "Then how do you doubt me when I tell you she finds this fascinating? Even amusing?" Halim winced at the word. Messenger would be the only one capable of calling Ayaan 'amusing.' "I have.. desires, Messenger." "One of your power has no need for shame, Ayaan, please." "Thank you. The Ancient's assistance in granting me these requests gives me great comfort. Comfort I can't describe. There is such a release that comes with this.. this extraordinary.. well, I have decided, anyway. To me, there is nothing better in the world. My guests pay quite well to witness it so I'm not a total fool. Messenger, for years I thought my desires were unobtainable and she has shown me so much since those days. I very humbly ask for her services again." "Ayaan, her answer is yes," she said happily. "She will come tonight." "You make me very pleased, Messenger." "You have prepared the usual payment?" "Of course." He nodded at Halim. He walked briskly to the doors, allowing inside a long line of men with heavy crates on hand-carts. "Gold, as always." Messenger stood, Ayaan reciprocated. "It was very good to see you again, Ayaan." "You are always welcome, Messenger." She stood among the crates of gold. After the last man left the giant array of boxes for the door, she looked back at Ayaan. "You could buy countries and yet you buy this. I hope it's worth it to you!" Ayaan nodded. Something like a loud crack of lightning startled the servants. Messenger, and the crates of gold, vanished in a moment. Only the hand- carts remained in the center of the room. The ship bowed and rocked from the sudden change in weight. Downstairs, on some lower deck, David only heard the footsteps of the servants clearing the library of the carts. Above him, as Ayaan delivered the news to his guests, a room full of men in white robes cheered. - - Armed guards unlocked David's cell and bound his hands. Halim and some servants stood by watching. He noticed David shaking uncontrollably, staring at the workers patching bullet holes in the walls of the room with clay and paint. "It's better if you use the toilet now before we get you cleaned up," Halim said matter-of-factly, working from some laundry list of tasks in his head. "I'll even let you use a private washroom if you like." "Alright," was all David found himself able to say. After he relieved himself, Halim and the guards took him to a grand, standing shower on a higher deck. Servants washed him with sweet smelling soaps, scrubbing every inch of his naked body, shivering even in the warmth of the water. They dried him with thick towels, three servants at once focusing on different limbs. They rubbed his skin with oils, working with a medical, joyless demeanor. They dressed him in a white linen shirt and white linen pants. The fabric was thin and soft. Halim watched from the corner. The servants stepped away. The guards grabbed David's arms, pulling him along. Halim led them through the corridors. David was starting to understand the true size of the ship. They walked through three, long hallways and went up two flights of stairs to reach the shower room from his cell. They took an elevator that listed more than fifteen floors from there and were walking on a long, empty deck towards a towering upper section, every room lit with a yellow glow at the windows. Ayaan owned a cruise ship. An entire ship, all to himself. David's short glances along the way told him enough. He could see no land in any direction. No lights on the horizon. No other ships. No oil rigs or fishermen. Only the stars and the sea. Finally, they stopped outside a set of large red doors and knocked. A servant opened both doors and stood ready. The guards unbound David's hands and Halim stepped behind him, leading him inside. David heard the doors close and lock. The room was massive. At its center stood a raised platform made of dark wood accented with an exquisite Persian carpet. Before it sat Ayaan, on a simple wooden chair. Behind him sat the men in white robes, smoking and lounging on couches and loveseats arranged facing the platform stage. At the west end, a large bed covered in silk sheets and blankets and pillows stood high and thick. The walls were covered in red wallpaper and adorned with artwork, mostly classical oil paintings of nude women. David expected chains and ropes and whips. All he found were men, a stage and a bed. Ayaan stood, moving the chair onto the stage before joining his guests below. Halim led David to the chair, waited for him to sit, and walked behind his master to watch. Ayaan broke the silence. "Hello, David." "Hello," he replied hoarsely. Halim fetched a whiskey glass of water. He waited for David to finish and took the glass away. "David, my guests and I would like to know more about you as we wait to get things started," Ayaan said with a knowing smile. "Where are you from?" "Pennsylvania." "Did you go to college in Pennsylvania?" "Carnegie Mellon." One of them men in the white robes said something to Ayaan, watching David curiously for an answer. "My friend says he has a nephew studying at Carnegie Mellon and wonders if perhaps you know him." "I graduated five years ago, I don't think I would." Ayaan relayed the answer back. It seemed to satisfy the man enough. "What did you study there?" "Engineering." "You are an engineer?" "I'm trying to be, yes." "Is that why you were in Dubai? To find a job, perhaps?" "No, I have a job. I was in Dubai for a conference." "David, I'm very sorry you missed your conference." Strangely, Ayaan appeared to be sincere. "Are you married, David?" "No." "Do you have a girlfriend?" "No." "Did you ever have a girlfriend?" "Yes. In college, I did." "What was her name?" David hesitated before answering. He didn't want to drag the outside world into this place anymore than necessary. If he managed to live, he decided, he would never tell anyone of this humiliation. Still, her first name slipped out. "Jessica." "David, are you a virgin?" David's annoyance with the questions almost became visible before he stopped himself, remembering the corpse that left his jail only several hours before. "No." "Did you have a sexual relationship with Jessica?" "Yes." Ayaan said something to the men sitting around him. The smiled and chatted with each other in agreement. Halim poured another glass of water for David and let him drink. "Are you an athletic person?" "No. I exercise a bit but no, I don't think I'm an athletic person." Ayaan nodded. "You look quite strong to me." David didn't respond. "Let's see, if we have the time." Halim opened the doors, allowing several servants to pull a cart into the room and leave it near the stage. The servants left, and the doors were locked again. "Forgive me, David, if you would not humor my guests and I in a demonstration of your strength." Atop the cart sat two large onion-shaped weights with flat bottoms and handles. David thought they looked like oversized kettlebells. They weren't labeled with a weight. "What do you want me to do?" David asked. "Lift them off the cart and put them on the floor if you can. Please." David walked to the cart and grabbed the weights by their handles. He felt ridiculous following Ayaan's orders like a slave. He tightened his muscles and held his breath, lifting the weights from the cart by an inch or two. The weights were deceptively heavy. He stepped back a bit and let them hit the floor with a loud pair of thumps. Ayaan nodded. David returned to the chair without prompting. "Do you know why you are here?" "No," David lied. 'Sexual torture' might not be the most prudent of answers, he thought to himself. "Did not Halim tell you when you arrived with us?" David looked at Halim. He didn't seem too worried about the answer. David felt his lack of reaction was clearance to tell the truth. "He did." "And what did he say?" "He said.. he said it was about sex." "Yes." David's heart sank. For a moment he allowed himself the hope he would be set free, that his jailers were fucking with him, that they had their fun. Now he knew: there would be no escape from this. "Please.." David began, but Ayaan stopped him from pleading with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Do you like women, David? Girls?" "I like women, yes." "You like to have sex with women, don't you?" "Yes." "Of course you do. Pretty girls, yes?" "Yes. Please, what are you going to do?" "I do too. In fact we all do, my guests and I. We love beautiful women." "...." "And that, David, is exactly the point of the evening." "Please. Please, I don't understand." Ayaan lit a cigarette from a table box. "We're not homosexuals, David. Is that what you thought?" "I don't know." "To take something as far from desire such as a man, some strong, powerful and uncertain man, and make him into something as alluring and curious and sensual as the most wonderful creature to ever step foot on this earth, something like Aphrodite up there," he said, pointing to a large oil painting above the fireplace. "That, my friend, is the most wonderful thing in the world to me." David didn't have the words to respond. Not the right words. "So you're going to dress me up like a girl and rape me." A couple of the men in white robes chuckled. Even Ayaan smiled. "No, David. You'd still be a man under those clothes, wouldn't you?" he said, exhaling smoke from his nose. "No, something much more thorough is required." "You're going to cut me." David's thoughts were spoken as he made them. They were watching David panic. "You know," Ayaan said, standing up. "That's precisely what we used to do. At first." He fetched an ashtray from a cabinet and set it on the table near his seat. "All the surgeries for the face, the chest, the shape, the gender itself, my god- you wouldn't believe how long it took. And the bruising and swelling and recovery took weeks before she was any good to anyone." David sat speechless. "Still, it was much cheaper. But no, you won't be cut. We have a much more elegant way now." "Please.. what are you going to do.." David begged, now certain of some mutilation. A rumble of thunder in the distance vibrated the room, shaking the glasses and dishes inside the cabinets. "Speak of the devil," Ayaan said. David felt the carpet leave his feet. He put his arms out to brace the fall but somehow remained upright. He looked down at himself. He was floating in air. Ayaan and the others stood from their seats, watching the doors. A crack of lightning and the onslaught of heavy rain muffled by the thick walls of the ship seemed to announce an arrival. David tried kicking his feet and pointing his toes down to the floor but it was just out of reach. His movements were squeezed and inhibited. This levitation was real. The doors opened. The rain was much louder outside. A petite, middle aged Indian woman with kind eyes and colorful robes entered the room. The doors closed quickly behind her by some invisible force. Ayaan and the men bowed on their knees to her. Trapped in the air, David couldn't bow to her in fear if he wanted to. She walked to Ayaan, beckoning him to rise. "It is good to see you again, Ayaan," she said. "It is always a pleasure to see you Ancient." "We are friends, are we not? Please stand." Ayaan obeyed. The men returned to their seats behind him, smiling and eager. For the first time, she looked up at David and he looked into her eyes. He could have sworn her irises flashed a rainbow of color. "So this is David," she said to Ayaan, still looking at David. "Are you ready, David?" "Ready for what? Please, what is going on?" The Ancient smiled and turned back to Ayaan. "More importantly, are you ready?" "I am very thankful you have accepted my request. I am ready to begin." She walked to the stage and put her hand on David's bare foot. David felt warm and comfortable. He felt his heartbeat slow to something almost relaxed. He looked down from his floating position just above the stage at the woman gently rubbing his foot. Somehow still foolish enough to be embarrassed, he found himself ashamed of the implausible erection that showed through and stretched his light, linen pants. The woman let go of his foot and stepped behind him somewhere beyond his vision. David looked forward at Ayaan and the men looking back up at him. He was terrified. "Let's start from the bottom, again," Ayaan said, sitting back with his guests. "The feet should be small, petite and smooth. Toes and ankles to match, I think." David felt a warmth deep in his legs move down into his feet, leaving a static tingle behind. "I want very feminine legs and knees, very smooth- inviting, perhaps. Slightly touching thighs leading to wide hips and rear, as the usual. Ancient, I trust your judgement," Ayaan continued. The warmth in David's body felt alarmingly fast and strong. The Ancient appeared in David's view once again. She waved her hand along the seam of his pants and the pants fell away, leaving him exposed. The shirt followed. He looked down at his nude body. His legs had changed as Ayaan instructed. His feet looked noticeably smaller. His painfully large erection sat upon a set of hips that confirmed this was no illusion. They were turning him into a girl. "Please stop," he managed to say. "Please." Ayaan stood up and walked to the stage. He reached up with his finger and pointed at David's penis, tapping it on the side. David winced at the touch. "This won't do at all, of course. I'd like small labia, smooth and clean genitals. Sparse pubic hair. A very sensitive and reactive clitoris. Give her something worth having." "Please!" David begged. "Please stop, okay?" He discovered he was unable to move his hands to protect himself, for what good it would have done. The warmth returned and intensified. He felt his body move. He closed his eyes waiting for it to pass. When he opened his watering eyes, he saw Ayaan looking up at him, and nothing between his legs. "What did you do?!" The men in white robes looked astounded, mesmerized. David rubbed his legs together the best he could to find himself but found that too was restricted. All he could feel was an emptiness. "What the fuck did you do?!" David cried. Ayaan ignored him. He reached his hand up towards David and rested it open against his groin, where his legs met his body. The touch of Ayaan's hands on the place revealed a sensitivity, and David flinched. Ayaan allowed his fingers to brush against the new curves before continuing down his legs. He looked up at David and smiled. "What did you do?!" David repeated. Ayaan returned to his seat. "Let's keep things quiet for a bit while we watch, yes?" Ayaan said. David noticed he wasn't talking to him. He was talking to the Ancient. And as simply as it was said, David found himself unable to speak. His vocal cords betrayed him. "Ancient, I trust your art," Ayaan finally said. "I'd like her short, thin but healthy, breasts large enough for her stature without being unseemly, narrow shoulders, feminine arms and hands with strength to match. Her face, her eyes, her nose, her voice, her teeth- all I leave to you to prepare me something truly wonderful." David felt the room spin vertically. He felt like he was falling for a few seconds, yet there he remained. The nausea passed immediately as the warmth spread through his body, reaching out in all places, like an electric charge on his skin. He looked down at himself in time to see the manipulations as they finished. He looked down and saw a girl. Even his breath sounded different, passing through newly shaped internal cavities and canals. The room seemed brighter through newly made eyes and the sound of the room louder through newly made ears. A small utterance of a cry revealed he could once again speak. "Please..." was all he could manage to say in his new, pitifully high pitched voice. The squeezing on his body relaxed and he could move his arms and legs. He wiped the tears from his face and curled his legs up into his body, hugging himself as he softly floated back to the stage. He buried his face into his knees lying fetal on the floor. The men in the room stood from their seats and applauded. The Ancient stepped to David and touched his naked back, startling him. David grabbed her outreached hand and stood up, facing the applauding men. "Let's continue," Ayaan said, stepping forward to the stage. David, exhausted, could not think of anything more they could change. "I want her to be curious, emotional, a bit silly, weak, sensual of course, but above all, I want her to be feminine." The warmth felt different to David this time. It settled somewhere in his head and dissolved itself away. Ayaan reached out his hand and he took it, only now realizing how much larger Ayaan was and how small David had become. Ayaan led David to the side of the stage and David became aware of the new gait in his walk. He didn't just look like a girl, he was acting like one. No matter how aware he was of the change, he couldn't force himself to walk as he had before. Ayaan let go of David's hand and motioned towards the weights. David crossed his arms, unsure of how to stand nude, feeling the strangeness of having breasts. "David, if you can put these weights back onto this cart, I will ask the Ancient to return you to your former self." David understood the game. There was no way he could do it now. Ayaan just wanted David to know it. Resigned, David took small, uncertain steps towards the weights and grabbed the handles. He pulled as hard as he could. The weights didn't even shift. "Come now, my wife could lift those, David. Are you that ready to give up?" Ayaan toyed with him. David took hold of one handle by both hands and tried using his legs to lift. He strained and cried out, but his feet slid underneath him and he fell onto his rear. The men laughed. Sitting there on the floor, the weight between his legs, he let go of the handle and cried, looking down at himself. Ayaan spoke aloud to his guests. "Simply wonderful, isn't it." The Ancient, looking over her handiwork, stepped in. "Ayaan, I hope all is satisfactory?" "She's perfect," he said staring. "Then there is only one final item to take care of." "Yes, of course." Ayaan pulled a frightened David to his feet. David found himself too weak and feeble to fight back anymore. Ayaan guided him to the bed and the men followed after. David covered himself with a pillow and watched everyone nervously. Ayaan undressed himself and stood next to the bed, facing the Ancient. "Thank you for this," he said to her. The Ancient smiled. The men kneeled before her. She turned and walked away. David watched her take small deliberate steps into a nothingness. She disappeared. Somehow, he knew, his chances of returning to normal left with her. The fear of permanence made his skin shiver and his heart beat fast in a panic. The men rose. Ayaan climbed onto the bed. He pulled away the pillow violently from David's arms. Ayaan laid back, above the blankets and sheets. He grabbed David's long hair and pulled his head toward him. David positioned himself and took Ayaan into his mouth, moving his head as he had seen others to do him. Ayaan stroked David's hair behind his ear as he worked. "David, I wonder what you were thinking last week," he teased. "I wonder what you imagined your future to be like. Maybe getting married one day. Maybe fathering children perhaps?" David's eyes watered as he waited for the nightmare to stop. There, on the bed, sucking this man's penis, he more profoundly felt the absence of his own. Ayaan stopped him before he finished, turning David onto his back. He watched Ayaan look down to places he couldn't see, and felt him enter. As Ayaan moved inside, David felt the brush of the skin against his clitoris for the first time, and a wave of sensation rippled throughout his body. Ayaan began massaging David's breasts, and David couldn't help but gasp. "Please stop!" she said. Ayaan continued. "Tell me, David," he said, panting. "What would Jessica say if she could see you now?" The question hit home. David's struggles ceased. She relaxed the tension in her muscles and let it all happen, her pillow wet with tears she couldn't stop from forming. She didn't dare sob. She felt the man quiver and shake inside her as he finished. He pulled away and rolled over, leaving her cold. The men cheered him. He stood next to the bed, wrapping himself in a robe. He spoke to them in Arabic, something sounding like a victory speech. He gestured towards the cowering girl trying to cover herself on the bed. The men applauded Ayaan's performance, worth every penny they paid to witness it. She looked up at Ayaan addressing the men. He looked powerful. "Dress her," Ayaan said to Halim. "Tomorrow we can dock in India and our guests can see safe arrangements home." Halim nodded. "And you," he said moving the hair from David's face. "You get to fly back to America with some new documents and a new name, don't you." "Please... change me back. Please.. Okay?" "Shh... I can't do that even if I wanted," he said softly. "You're going to make a very lovely Sarah, I think." "What?" "I'm calling you Sarah." "Please.. please fix this!" The men laughed. Ayaan laughed. His tone changed quickly. "Would you rather I throw you into the sea with a knife in your chest?" "...No." "Or maybe I could give you to one of my guests here? Or auction you off to the highest bidder?" "...Please, no. Please just change me back." "Tell us your name." "Please.." "Tell me your name is Sarah and you can go home," he whispered into her ear. "Sarah." "What?" "My name.." "Yes." "My name is Sarah." He hugged her tightly and kissed her face. The men filed out of the room, following Ayaan. Sarah remained on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. Halim waited for her to stop and grabbed her arm. "Come on," he beckoned. - - They wanted an American. They gave her American style clothes like the culturally blind tourists they were accustomed to seeing around the cities. Colorful, playful underwear. Short, pale pink shorts. Small, white and purple tennis shoes. A simple white bra and a striped, form fitting tanktop. She stood inside her plexiglass cell, holding her hands at her sides, staring at the floor. Inside the room surrounding her, the men in white robes sipped liquor and leered, talking to each other in amazement. She seemed nothing more to them than a curious centerpiece, a particularly beautiful ice sculpture to be admired. One of the men knocked on the cell wall, the sound making her jump. She looked up from under her hair with green eyes she didn't even know she had yet. He pointed to a pair of servants pushing a projector on a cart. Someone turned off the lights in the room and a bright square of light appeared on the wall. Then a photograph. A photograph of David. The first photo was of his sleeping face. Sarah realized they must have taken these that first night on the ship, when they drugged him and took him from the hotel. The second photo revealed more of his body. David had been nude, unconscious on a cot with his arms at his sides, leaving him exposed. His face had overgrown stubble. Sarah absentmindedly rubbed her face against her shoulder, the smoothness of her skin feeling unnatural and strange, like being a child again. The photos were crudely taken, a bright flash under harsh lights. One was of his hand, one of his biceps. One of his shoulder with a hint of hair spilling out from his armpit. Occasionally the men would look back at Sarah, as though they needed reminding of what exactly had taken place, of what exactly had changed and how much. Sarah watched too. With every passing photo, she felt each part of her body itch with unfamiliarity. She squirmed in place, feeling vulnerable and small. Photos of David's legs. Photos of David's knees. Photos of David's feet. Photos of David's stomach, a line of hair dividing everything. A photo of David's nudity, a close photo of his genitals. He was sleeping and erect. It flopped to the side, lazily. Sarah remembered how the weight of such a thing felt on her thigh. Sarah remembered what it was to adjust when uncomfortable, how it throbbed when aroused. The men in white robes watched her remember. They left the photo on the wall and returned to their drinks, watching quietly. They watched her move her legs, her thighs searching for a lost limb. They watched her sit on the cot and curl into a ball, feeling the fabric of her clothes stretch against her in new places. She realized, her legs together tightly, how impossible it really was to protect herself now. How could she defend herself from rape when everything seemed so.. accessible. The men in white robes sipped their drinks and watched her in the darkened room. Somewhere in the center sat Ayaan. Sarah heard whispering. One of the men pleaded with Ayaan about something. His servant presented a leather bag. Ayaan stared ahead at Sarah, nodding. The man smiled. Ayaan took the leather bag and rifled through its contents. He leaned back in his chair, turning to the guard. The guard pushed a button on the desk and the cell door unlocked. The man entered the cell with Sarah, the door locking behind him. Sarah looked up from the cot, terrified. He produced a small digital camera from his pocket and held it in front of him. The flash was blinding in the dark room. The camera made a small beep with every exposure. Resigned, Sarah sat still. The men in white robes outside the cell moved closer to watch. Halim spoke up, leaning against a wall. "Stand." Sarah obeyed, her head lowered. The man continued to take pictures moving around the cramped cell. Sarah could smell his breath. "Take off your shirt." She found it harder to pull the tight fitting shirt over her head than the t-shirts she was used to. Her hands had touched the ceiling of the cell before. Now she only struggled against air. The man flashed a couple photos and moved behind her. She felt his fingers on her back and a tug on the bra. He unclasped each hook, one by one, until the tension gave way. Only her arms at her sides held it up. "Let go. Let it drop." She felt cold and exposed in a way she hadn't expected. The man flashed photos from every angle. "Take off your shoes." She squatted down to clumsily untie them, her bare breasts touching the tops of her legs. She took off the socks as well and kicked them aside. Before she could stand up, completely, Halim confirmed her fear. "Now the rest." The shorts were more difficult to unbutton than she anticipated and her fingers fumbled at the top. The man with the camera grabbed the fabric and pulled the button through with an alarmingly forceful jerk, moving her entire body a few inches forward. He stepped back, snapping more photos as she stepped out of the shorts. The underwear was thin, barely any protection from these people at all. Yet she still felt reluctant to let them go. She slid them down her legs and let them fall on her feet. The man took her clothes in a pile and pushed them behind him. She stood nude, her eyes closed, holding her hand in front of her. The man grabbed her arm and forced it aside. Halim advised from the corner. "Hold your arms out a bit. Spread your legs a little. They want photographs of everything." She did, her eyes looking up and away from the flashes of the camera. Her eyes found their way to the photo on the wall of David. The man pocketed the camera and stepped forward. He brushed his hand against her face. She squirmed away, backing up a step. "It's alright," said Halim. "He only paid to touch. Nothing else." He lit a cigarette and looked away. The man approached again and Sarah closed her eyes. She felt his fingers explore her face and neck, travelling around her breasts in a tease. His movements were alternately fast and slow. His touch tickled her arms and waist. His fingers on her legs softly avoided her inner thigh. She felt herself become warm, soft and wet and hated him for it. How could such a thing be involuntary. His hands molded around the curve of her butt, every inch of his exploration providing a Sarah's mind a better map of who she became. He moved upwards to her face, running his fingers through her hair. He stepped back, smiling. He picked up her clothes and remained in the cell, waiting. Halim noticed and spoke softly. "Lie down on your back. On the floor, not the bed." "You said he di-" "He didn't. He's just watching now. Lie on your back." Slowly, she complied. "They'll let you dress after you pleasure yourself." "I can't." "You will." "I can't!" she whined. "You don't have a choice." "I don't know how." Halim nodded. "You have all night to figure it out." "What if I can't?" "When you're done, they'll give your clothes back and leave. It's up to you. You want this night to be over? Here's your chance." Sarah took a deep breath. Sarah felt the cold tile against her back. The man with the camera held it out, blocking her view of his face. He clicked a photo and beckoned her to continue. She spread her legs and saw the flash of the camera. She moved her hands downward and saw the flash of the camera. She felt herself for the first time, gasping at the sensitivity of her own touch. Her breasts squeezed between her arms and she saw the flash of the camera. She slid her fingers inside herself and heard the men talk quietly to one another. She heard the sound of her fingers sliding and saw the flash of the camera. She felt her own clitoris, near the surface, where she didn't expect it. She rubbed the folds of skin between her legs and saw the flash of the camera. Her hand warm and wet moved to her breast, her hands now massaging two entirely new and unique organs. One hand on her sex and the other on her chest and she let own a moan caught by the flash of the camera. She felt herself tense and relax, she felt a familiar quiver that transformed and grew into something new. She saw the photo of David on the wall and the flash of the camera. She rubbed harder, penetrating, sliding. She imagined Ayaan holding her down to the floor and her body responded. She gasped and panted and shook. The waves of warmth pulsed and continued, even though she had stopped. She collapsed on her side and wiped her hand on her leg. The man with the camera took a photo, then tossed her clothes on top of her. "I'll bring you a blanket," Halim said, quickly leaving the room. A buzzer sounded and the cell door opened. The man with the camera left with the others, showing them the back of his screen. Ayaan stood up and walked to the cell. He knelt down to Sarah's face, her breath finally slowing, fogging the plexiglass wall. "You were wonderful." - - -