Not to be taken as an accurate depiction of the entirety of Saudi Arabia as lecherous.
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Abdullah scowled across the desk at the whining woman, comparing her to the photo in her passport. Once a statuesque American man with a jaw that could cut diamonds. American men always got this way after their arrival and their temporary castration in the autocloset.
Abdullah took a pen to the passport, scribbling out the name Clark Kent and writing in something more fitting - Khalaqa Karim.
The woman was getting hysterical, almost on the verge of tears. “Louis should be here. There’s been a mistake. You have to change me back.”
“Madam, lower your voice,” Abdullah chided her sharply. “There are people behind you - show some modesty. Whoever this Louis woman is to you, she is clearly not here. The machine was processing you for a long time. She has certainly left. As for your complaint, all tourists are made fully aware of Saudi policy. You are all to be provided with a suitable, local appearance upon arrival. If you had a complaint, it should have been brought up before entering the autobooth.”
“B-but I didn’t book the tickets,” Clark protested in a panic. “I don’t usually fly. Not by plane anyway.”” Abdullah winced and pressed a finger to his earlobe. He never could stand the whine of a woman. “But my body-”
“Will be returned to you upon leaving the Kingdom.”
“But my powers-!” Her words faltered, and she shrank back timidly, afraid she had said too much. Abdullah rolled his eyes at the number of men who passed through the airport every day who considered being American some sort of superpower.
Out of curiosity, he drew up the autocloset records to get an idea of what this ex-man was whining about, studying what the machine had extracted from him as it converted him into a perfect Saudi woman. It had taken 10 hours of surgery for the machine to rebuild, far longer than normal, though that was understandable - the man had had the physique of a god. And by Allah, that cock…
Perhaps he’d help himself to the man’s organs while they were held in in cold storage in the airport's autocloset, as he did with all the macho big dicked businessman who came through here thinking to tell him how to do his job…
Only for a few days…
Clark’s heart - her frail human heart - was beating hard in her chest. Her powers had been stripped, her kryptonian muscles excised by the autocloset scalpels. She was… human. Worse, she was in the body of a weak and feeble woman. The world was suddenly terrifying, every noise and movement a threat. Anything could happen to her. She could be mugged, shot, run over. She might catch an illness and die! She clutched her veil to her mouth at the thought of all the life-ending pathogens she could be breathing in.
She flinched at the sight of an plane taking off outside. A week ago she’d lifted a similar sized jumbo jet on one hand.
Even in the face of multiverse-ending threats, she’d never felt so fragile. She’d happily take the anti-life equation over this body.
Remembering the symbol emblazoned on her altered garments, and noticing her intently the man was staring at it, she tugged the hijab tighter around her breasts. If any of her enemies found her in this state...
The line of people behind her were growing irritated. She sensed the airport representative was on the verge of having her removed from the premises, and knew there would be nothing she could do to stop them. But she so desperately needed her kryptonian body back. There was no way she could survive a week so helpless.
“But we’re on honeymoon. My wife-” She sensed the wrong word had been said as the man’s expression darkened. “Louis should be here.”
Abdullah tapped a few buttons on the computer. “Your acquaintance left 9 hours ago. She was escorted from the premises by her assigned male guardian. If you’d like, I will arrange a guardian for you. He will ensure you get to where you belong.”
Clark relaxed. A guardian, now that was precisely what she needed. Gratefully she accepted. It wasn’t long before a local man was called. He looked like no guardian she’d ever seen, certain not Justice League material, being rather thick-set, and showing a number of gold teeth as he leered at her. Yet she felt more at ease knowing her fate was now in his hands. He gallantly took the suitcase she no longer had the strength to lift, and her passport, and guided her from the airport with an arm around her waist.
He was gentlemanly, hailing a cab, and she was so grateful she didn’t even raise a complaint about his thick fingers fondling her soft, human buttock as he pushed her onto the backseat.