Page 10 of Taken By the Crab King of Atlantis

My stomach outright flips now, and I’m grateful when Nerissa steps out from behind the curtain. “Time for your makeover!”

While Marina gathers up her shells game, I grab a copy of the contract I signed from my backpack. I figure there’ll be time during the makeover to read it over.

Nerissa takes me into another room with a central, reclined chair. There’s a rack of clothing and a few tables full of bottles and cosmetics.

The unfriendly stewardess comes in. “This is Lina, who will help today,” Nerissa says, smiling. Lina gives a tight-lipped smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Now, I suggest we start from the ground up, with a Brazilian wax,” Nerissa says. “Unless you had that covered before you came here?”

I choke. I hadn’t considered that’s what they meant by a makeover. Atlantan beauty standards seem pretty similar to the surface, even if their fashion is a little retro. “Oh, I’ve never…”

“Now it is optional,” Nerissa says. “But we just want you to feel prepared for the big night. It’s completely up to you if you want to go natural.”

I flounder, staring between them. Of course, pubic hair would be taken care of, and of course I hadn’t thought of it before now. I turn the contract in my hand into a tube as I think. What would Aya do?

Your pussy, your decision.

Remembering my sister’s sass gives me courage. “Sure,” I say, blushing. “I’ve always been curious.”

Lina’s mouth twists with distaste. She’s obviously not a fan of me. But I’ve won people over before. “I like your earrings,” I say, noticing small conch shell earring studs in her ears. She looks annoyed, says something foreign, and walks out of the compartment.

My stomach sinks. “Is there something wrong?”

Nerissa looks flustered. “I’m sorry. I won’t need Lina until the makeup anyway, and I think I’ll ask our other stewardess.”

“Did I do something? Some Atlantan faux pas?”

“No, it’s not your fault; it’s just… Lina applied to be a sacrifice. She’s disappointed she didn’t get it. I didn’t realize how disappointed until after we started this journey. Please don’t worry, she won’t bother you again. I’ll step out and let you get undressed. There’s a robe for you on the rack.”

My stomach sinks further as Nerissa leaves. I knew in theory that other women had applied to be a sacrifice. But I wasn’t expecting to meet any of them. And Lina’s gorgeous. I can understand why she’d been annoyed that I was chosen in her place.

I get undressed quickly, put the robe on, and read the contract carefully. By the time Nerissa’s come back in, I’ve confirmed that I’m only obliged to be in Atlantis for two nights. Which will be more than enough.

“Ready?” Nerissa asks brightly.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, and lean back in the chair.

An hour later, Nerissa escorts me back to my seat, and I buckle back into my seatbelt gratefully.

I’m in a bright orange dress I would never choose myself. It’s tighter at the breast and shorter than I’m comfortable with. Matching lace underwear was offered, but I stuck with the floral cotton I brought myself. As long as I don’t fall over in the black platform heels they provided me with, I’ll be fine.

Nerissa was nice, but the wax was predictably painful.

Dark black flicks accentuate my eyes, and the foundation underneath is making my face hot. I don’t look like myself, but Nerissa and the other stewardess looked pleased with the results. At least they let me keep my ponytail.

I smooth my hands across the tight strands nervously.

The shortness of my skirt and the stinging in my privates reminds me uncomfortably of my fantasy of being bent over a desk. But it's more exposing than sexy right now. With only minutes left until we hit Atlantis, I feel very alone. My reeling thoughts drift to the past.

A few weeks before my sister moved out, we’d both come off restaurant shifts and were drinking on my bed. I don’t drink often, but a customer had left an unfinished bottle of wine at the restaurant, and it was the day before my birthday.

“What’s sex like?” I blurted out while she took a swig from the bottle.

“What do you mean, what’s it like?” She rolled back onto my bed, laughing.

“You know, what does sex feel like?” I snatched the bottle from her before it spilled on my sheets.

“I dunno, like, good?” She shrugged. “When it’s with the right person, it feels great. When it’s with the wrong person, sometimes it feels even better.” She laughed, and so did I. Aya liked bad boys. “But you’ll find out soon enough.”