“Jesus Christ, look at you. Are you stupid?” The man’s voice was cold over the sound of the crashing waves. “Did you really think you could outswim a custom speedboat? Even the damn DEA can’t keep up with us, and they have fucking helicopters.”
Caked in sand and sweat, Carlos—or Carla as they called him now—lay sprawled on the beach. His chest heaved with exhaustion, his lungs still burning from the swim. He rolled onto his back and felt his new breasts shift, his nipples hardening in the ocean breeze.
The guard - a man named Hector - knelt beside him. He was a tall man with a buzz cut and a face that seemed to have been chiseled with a hatchet. “The boss has invested too much in your...alterations...to let you slip away, Carla.”
Carlos felt his rough hands grip his wrist. “Please,” he managed to gasp. “Don’t do this.”
“Please? You should have thought about ‘please’ before you decided to run. But don’t worry. After tonight’s procedure, there won’t be much left for you to save by running.”
Procedure. Carlos knew what it meant—an orchiectomy. It was their way of ensuring compliance. Each time he resisted, every time he tried to escape, they took something away. First it’d been his freedom, then his name, and now his manhood.
“Once your balls are gone, the delusion that you can return to your old life will be gone,” Hector said, almost sadly. “It’s a lesson we all needed to learn. This ain’t a regular kind of job. Of course, none of us were dumb enough to fuck the boss’s wife.”
“Please, H-Hector, you knew me before. You know I’m no saint, but I don’t deserve this.”
Hector shook his head. “No one does. But you did make your bed. Now lie in it - or the boss’s, I guess.” He snorted and hauled Carlos to his feet. “Come on, it’ll be better once you know it’s over and done. Besides, maybe it won’t be so bad. You saw how the boss treated his wife before she cheated on him. Being his pet isn’t so bad.”
As Hector dragged him away, Carlos let his eyes flicker to the ocean one last time. Hidden among the yachts and speedboats, he prayed they wouldn’t find the DEA transponder he’d managed to secure during his desperate swim. There was still a chance they’d come for him.
But who - or what - would Carlos be when they arrived?