compelled him to seek pain, punishment, to suffer at the hands of a Black Domme. As he stepped off the plane and into the sweltering heat and humidity of Charleston, sweat poured off his body but not from the climate.

A young woman stood with his name on a sign stood waiting by a limo. She was a Black woman dressed in a man’s chauffer suit who looked stoic but beautiful. Taking a deep breath, he said, “I’m uhmmm . . . I think you are here to pick me up. Are you with . . . ?”

She opened the door and ushered him inside before he could finish. The windows were tinted and the divider was up so he couldn’t see a thing. They drove for about a half hour when they stopped and she lowered the partition and said, “Stay!” When she opened her door the strong smell of the ocean was evident. Through the front windshield he could tell they were at a marina. The driver spoke to another woman, less stoic but equally as beautiful, onboard a mid-sized cabin cruiser. They laughed and chatted casually while he fidgeted in the car.

The driver opened the door and he understood he was to get out. He boarded the boat and extended his hand to the captain of the boat nervously, trying to gauge what his appropriate response was supposed to be. “I’ll take your cell phone, your wallet, watch, and your keys, along with any other items that might be personal.” Charles looked around like he was being punked but he went along with it in the spirit of cooperation. The captain opened a door of sorts in the floor and he again understood that he was to climb down the ladder. Just as he made his descent, he felt something crack down on his skull and he crashed to the floor in excruciating pain. The door slammed shut and he was lying on a wooden floor covered in a thick slime with a stench that made him want to vomit. There were no lights, he could barely see five inches in front of his face and the heat was unbearable in the small quarters, as he could feel the purr of the engine running nearby combined with the stifling temperatures.

Immediately, he was filled with rage. This wasn’t what he signed up for. He yelled, “Let me out of here,” but the engine roared and he could tell there were heading out to sea beyond where people could hear his pleas. He drifted in and out of consciousness as the pain in his head throbbed.

Waves lapped at the boat as he regained full consciousness and they were anchored somewhere. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in that hole but he was hungry and needed to use the bathroom. He hollered up through the floor. “I know what you’re doing. This is supposed to be like a slave ship. You can’t keep me here against my will. This is kidnapping. Let me out. I’ll sue your ass.” Yelling took entirely too much energy from him and the smell caused him to wretch as he felt himself dry heaving in nausea. He felt his head and he could feel a lump and dried blood. He couldn’t tell if