The old man comes open and forces your mouth open. As a small mercy, it seems, they have let you speak again. You let out a stream of invective about the old
man in English.
"What the fuck have you done you fucking Chinky shit? You let that fucking queerboy get off on me and leave me as a fucking wog, I'll fucking kill you…"
The old man merely looks on amused. Your mouth is suddenly paralysed, clamped open in mid sentence. Horrified, you watch as Ming unzips his trousers, lowers
his boxers and takes out his cock. He directs the cock towards you, then starts to urinate into your open mouth. Your throat muscles have been relaxed, so the
piss just falls straight into your stomach. Ming lets the last few drops dribble onto your lips and chin.
"Now let us hear him speak again", says the old man, and you feel your mouth relax again. The noise that comes out is not English, however, but a rapid stream of
Hindi. You hear the old man speak to Ming, in a familiar sound of English - the language you have spoken all your life - but you realise that you cannot understand
a word.
Ming and the old man move away towards the next bed. You can see that Thang has been giving similar treatment to your mates across the room. After an hour of
waiting, you are finally able to climb off the bed and join the other new Indian men in a group. Thang and Ming tie a loincloth around the centre of each of your
bodies and put cheap wood sandals on your feet. The old man places a chain around each one of your necks, leaving you all closely connected. Then you are led
to the edge of the room, where a truck is waiting. You are roughly bundled into the dark and airless back of the truck.