The first thing I registered was the overwhelming scent of roses, thick and cloying, mixed with something dark, musky, and utterly unfamiliar. My vision swam, and my body felt impossibly heavy. I tried to move, but my limbs were leaden.

Then I saw them: four women in sheer white gowns, their faces veiled, hands clasped. Panic seized me. "Where am I?!" My voice was a hoarse whisper. "Who are you? What the fuck is going on?!"

Silence. Only the rustle of their clothes as cold hands gripped me, pulling me towards an enormous, shimmering stone pool. Rose petals floated on the water, reflecting the flickering candlelight. This place felt ancient, medieval. They scrubbed, oiled, and perfumed me, my skin glistening with gold. When they pulled me out, I was shaking.

One of them, Amira, finally spoke, her voice eerily calm. "Follow the rules, or they will kill you." My blood ran cold. "Who?" I whispered. She only pushed a golden blouse and skirt towards me, then a veil.

I put it on. They led me outside, where hundreds, perhaps thousands, watched. A deep, commanding voice called, "Sysha." Not my name. A gun pressed against my waist. "Kneel." I did. "Bow." I bowed, once, twice, thrice.

And then, through the fringes of my veil, I saw it. A massive, perfectly carved stone dick. I choked back a laugh. Amira's urgent whisper came from beside me. "It's Yesha. The god they worship."

"What the fuck is this place?" My voice trembled. "The rest of your answers will come from your husband," she said. My stomach plummeted. "What husband?" Amira's silence was my only reply. Then, softly, "The one you just married." What. The. Actual. Fuck.