After a while, I figure out how to undo his shoes the buttons on the inner side of the shoes that need to be pressed at the same time. When I press them, the shoes release and the trousers are set free. I remove the rest of his clothing, and as my eyes run along his silver body, looking for any injuries, I’m relieved that I can’t see any on his muscular body.

I turn on the steam shower and try to usher him in.

“You wash me. Take off your clothing, volunteer.”

“I can wash you with clothes,” I say, hoping he understands my meaning. I don’t want to be naked and violated by an alien with two penises. I’ve two holes too close by for him to not understand only one is for fornication.

“No,” he insists. “You wash me,” then he says a lot of things I don’t understand in his alien language, but by the look on his face, I can see that he’s annoyed.

I quickly take off my shirt and trousers made of inferior fabric, and then I’m completely nude. On Earth, I would’ve been considered a woman with curves; some might have even said I was on the chubby side. However, as Volunteer 4711, I’m lean, and my ribs are visible when I raise my arms. I still have my breasts and hips, but I don’t have very much extra fat. I do look healthier than the Silver females at the farm, who like the males, are very thin and wiry.

My patient’s blue eyes watch me, but I can’t read anything from his expression except annoyance that I’m taking too long. I join him in the steam shower. And I forgot that I’m wounded too. The steam hurts where I was burned, and I wince and hold back a scream of pain. The alien male gently holds one of my arms, so I don’t fall. When the pain subsides, I look up at him, and he gives me a look of concern. This is both comforting and frightening as I don’t want to seem too vulnerable, as I don’t want to be raped. So, I begin working the soap through his white-blonde hair. He closes his eyes while I strain on my tip toes to reach his head, even though he’s leaning down for me, he’s just too tall. I pretend I don’t see his penises twitching under the steam shower. However, it just makes me work faster and more thoroughly. Once I’ve washed the blue blood out of his hair, I say, “Move out.” I indicate with my fingers that I want to look at his head.

He leans down even further for me.

I’m relieved to see it was just a small gash. “It’s okay.”

I nudge him back into the steam shower, and without him having to tell me, I begin to wash the rest of his body. I can almost imagine I’m washing a Greek statue of a god with his silver coloring, But a Greek statue with two penises, who bleeds, I remind myself, and has sexual needs. When I come to his penises, I pull back the foreskin on each one to gently clean him, and I can’t help but notice his body reacts to my touch in ways I don’t want. I don’t look up at him. I don’t want to encourage anything.