Pavla always sought the path of least resistance. Working as little as possible and earning as much as possible – that was her mantra. When she came across an ad offering work in a brothel with fabulous pay, she didn’t hesitate. Money and a comfortable life mattered more to her than morality. And so, on one scorching summer day, she appeared at the threshold of an establishment with red curtains and heavy wooden doors.

The owner, an elegant woman with hair like flames, welcomed her with a smile that held something unsettling. “Our clients have… specific requirements,” she explained while leading Pavla to a red chair opposite a mirror. “And we’re currently missing a girl for one type of customer. If you accept, you’ll have money, an attic apartment, food…”

The offer was too tempting for Pavla to refuse. Without reading it, she signed the contract and eagerly awaited what would come next. The owner offered her a cup of hot tea with a smile. “A little welcoming ritual,” she winked.

Outside, the heat was unbearable, but inside, the air was pleasantly cool. Pavla took a sip. The bitter taste lingered on her tongue longer than she expected. Then came the feeling of heavy eyelids, fading consciousness. With the last bit of her strength, she sat down in the chair.

And then – darkness.

When she opened her eyes, something was wrong. The first thing she noticed was snow outside the window. That couldn’t be right – it had just been summer. Something blocked her vision. She reached for her face. Her fingers touched hard teeth where there shouldn’t have been any. Lower down – something cold and moist.

Her heart pounded. She stood up sharply and ran to the mirror.

The face in the mirror wasn’t hers. It had large pig ears, a snout, tusks. The only thing that remained were her eyes – and in them, pure terror was reflected.

“What have you done to me?!” she wanted to scream, but only desperate pig-like squeals came out: “Oink, oink!” Panic engulfed her. She tried to speak again, but every time, the same animal sound escaped her throat. She trembled, tears filled her eyes, but instead of sobs, only wretched grunting followed.

The owner gently stroked her between her ears. “You’ll like it here,” she said sweetly. “The gentlemen love it when you squeal. And now it won’t be an act – it’ll happen naturally once you’re excited.”

Pavla stood frozen. Thoughts swirled in her mind. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare. But the sharp tusks painfully stretching her lips and the cold dampness of her snout were far too real.

The owner took her hand and led her down the corridor. Quiet conversations and laughter echoed all around them. As they passed the dining room, the local girls cheerfully greeted her: “Hi, Pavla, how are you today?”

She wanted to answer. She wanted to cry for help. But all that came out was a loud: “Oink!”

Horrified, she covered her mouth. She vowed never to try speaking again. In the eyes of the other girls, there was no sympathy – only familiarity. As if they had seen this before. As if this was a normal part of their job.

They brought her to a cozy attic room. “There are no mirrors here – until you get used to it,” the owner said. “When you want to freshen up, we’ll bring one.”

Before leaving, the owner turned back at the door for a moment. “You’ll like it here; we’re a close-knit community.”

Then she shut the door.

Pavla collapsed onto the bed. She wanted to bury her face in the pillow, but her snout wouldn’t let her. When she pulled back, the tusks tore the fabric. Tears streamed down her face, but instead of sobs, there was only grunting. Long into the night, until she fell asleep from exhaustion.

The next evening, loud pig-like squealing echoed throughout the brothel. Pavla had her first client! Afterward, he left her an incredibly large tip – money she had never dreamed of. But as she held it in her hands, she realized the terrible truth: she couldn’t use it. She couldn’t show herself outside like this. She was a prisoner of her own body, and wealth meant nothing to her now.