Beaten in Bahrain

I had never been to the Middle East, so when my girlfriend got a freebie to spend a week at a fabulous hotel on the beach, I jumped at the chance. She forgot to tell me the rules were different over there, though. Of course I had packed some of our love toys, along with some skimpy clothing I knew she'd want me to wear. And a practically non-existent bikini. My first mistake. The men in customs didn't like them.
Not at all. We were separated, tearfully. Roughly handcuffed, I was taken to a little room and told to wait. Given a chair, behind which my cuffed arms squirmed helplessly. And two burly guards who watched me very closely, their eyes roaming my body every time I re-crossed my legs as if, were it up to them, I would be stripped, raped and thrown into jail, never to be seen again. I was terrified. After a while a little middle eastern man came in smoking a cigarette.
He placed a chair in front of me and ordered me to spread my legs apart. Clenching my legs together nervously, I asked him why. He leaned close, blew some foul smoke in my face and said, "Because you want to get out of here, don't you?" Then he leaned back and spat out "WHORE" as if I were shit under his shoe.