The Mule 06

Ethan glared at Karla, who lounged under a palm tree down the beach, her smile and wave only fuelling his frustration. He shook his head in disbelief, causing Karla to giggle before she looked away. Shifting his enormous backside, Ethan tried to find a comfortable position on his plastic chair. He was outside a straw hut on the edge of a picturesque white sand beach, the slight overhang of the straw roof provided shelter from the scorching midday sun. The sound of gentle waves crashing against the shore in the distance created a serene atmosphere, one that Ava would have undoubtedly adored. However, as he looked up, his peaceful surroundings were interrupted by the chatter of two young Mexican women speaking Spanish - a language Ethan fluently understood.

"This is a man!" the newly arrived girl, Elena, exclaimed as she gave Ethan a thorough inspection. "What's going on here?"

"Quiet down, Elena," her friend, Carolina, whispered, trying to pacify her. "That woman over there is Karla Perez," she added, nodding in the direction of a woman lounging on the beach.

"Who's that supposed to be?" Elena asked, glancing over at Karla before turning back to Carolina.

"Let's just say, she's connected to some pretty powerful people and she's the type of person that when she asks you to do something, you do it," Carolina replied, her expression deadly serious.

"But she's paying us, right?" Elena questioned, tilting her head to the side.

"Oh, yes," Carolina said with a sly smile. "If we do what she wants, she'll pay. Oscar did some work for her last month and he made a killing."

"Wow!" Elena exclaimed excitedly. "Let's get to work then. What kind of nails does she want?"

"She didn't say, but she requested nail tips," Carolina responded. "Just make them long and gorgeous."

"Got it," Elena nodded. "Do you have a favourite colour, Chica," she added, looking down at Ethan, who had been nervously listening to the conversation below.

"No, Espanyol," he mumbled, thinking that the experience might be slightly more bearable if he wasn't forced to speak with these two women. Also thinking that these women might give away some information if they thought he couldn't understand.

With a fierce determination, Elena opened up her toolbox and pulled out a nail file. She got to work on Ethan's right hand with precision and skill. Meanwhile, Carolina moved to the other side of his chair and began brushing through his hair with practised ease. As they worked, Ethan sat there like a statue, listening to their lively chatter about the previous night's events. Elena was asking Carolina's opinion on whether she should return to the bar to see the guy she had hooked up with, unsure whether it would appear desperate.

All the while, Ethan's eyes darted around frantically, searching for a possible escape route. But as logic set in, he knew it was futile. He would have to flee across the sand in heels, and Karla would undoubtedly spot him. Even if he could outrun her, where would he go, and what would happen to Ava?

Resigning himself to his fate, he looked up at the board of treatments and exhaled loudly. The options written on the wooden board in childish handwriting sounded horrific, but he knew he had no choice but to sit there and allow these two women to beautify him.

As Elena and Carolina worked in perfect harmony, they chatted away about mind-numbingly boring topics, giving Ethan no useful information. Elena meticulously trimmed back his cuticles and filled the top of his nails, while Carolina expertly sectioned off the hair on the left side of his head, wrapping it up into tight balls before securing them tightly. As they switched positions and repeated the process on the other side, Ethan glared at Karla with a burning desire to kill her.

The sun had lowered and moved to the other end of the sky by the time Ethan was finally shown a mirror. Gazing at his reflection, he couldn't help but gasp in amazement. He had felt every one of the braids being attached as his head began to feel heavier and heavier. He had also felt every tiny pinch as Carolina took a thin piece of string and threaded his eyebrows. But even so, seeing his feminized reflection was a shock to the system.

(See image 12)

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A week later, Ethan lay upon the scorching sand of the very same beach, he’d had to endure the beauty treatments, his body wracked with pain as the merciless sun bore down upon him. The heat was intense, searing through his bikini-clad form as he lay there, exposed and vulnerable. But despite the discomfort, this newly added daily ritual (to give his skin some colour) brought him a sense of calm and peace.

The journey to the beach was a trial in itself, as he was forced to wiggle past the leering guards, their gazes drawn to his half-naked form. He stumbled across the sand, his impractical shoes sinking into the soft, yielding surface as the local people pretended not to stare. But once he reached his spot, he could relax. He could forget about the sickness that consumed him, the sickness of having to lug around this feminized, voluptuous body.

With his eyes closed, he lay there, letting the sun beat down upon him. At least while sunbathing, he wouldn’t need to use his hands, which were now practically useless, thanks to the long orange talons that extended from his fingertips. Long nails made even the simplest of tasks a chore and he couldn't fathom why anyone would ever get nails like this by choice.

(See image 13)

Silencing the turbulent thoughts within his mind, Ethan forced himself to push aside the overwhelming discomfort of the braids, tugging mercilessly at his head, and the gnawing hunger that clawed at his emaciated stomach. It was exhausting having all his thoughts constantly consumed with fear - Fear of what fate would befall Ava if he disobeyed Karla, or the terrifying thought of how different his life would be with his current form even if they were let go.

The constant weight of worry was a crushing burden, and yet, despite the overwhelming odds stacked against him, he knew that he had no choice but to continue to follow the commands of his captor. For to do otherwise would be to give in to despair and consign both himself and Ava to a fate too terrible to contemplate.