All I can do is twist and writhe. Sob and whine. Oh hell. My asshole is disintegrating. My balls are trying to shrivel up like a slug covered in salt. This is agony.
Sweat is dripping into my eyes. I look at Llywelyn and am greeted by his smug smirk. I have never wanted to kill anyone more.
A high-pitched scream echoes around the tiled bathroom. Fire has been replaced by ice. The scream was mine because the female torturer has doused me with a bucket of cold water.
I swear I can hear sizzling as the water disperses the evil cream. She lifts up another bucket and I lean towards it. Please, oh please, wash this damn stuff off of me. The water hits, just as freezing as the first time, but now I am expecting it, I welcome it.
It sluices away the last of the gloop. The burning sensation fades and I sigh in relief. I glance down at my chest. Not one single hair left. Smooth as a baby’s butt. And surprisingly, I seem to still have all my skin in place. I assume my balls and ass crack are in a similar state, but I will have to check later.
All in all, I have survived. I’ve never been hairless before, but I can bear it. When this is all done, I can grow it back.
A malevolent grin curls Llywelyn’s lips. “Was that the permanent cream? I do not wish to have to torment my pet like that again.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” mumbles the woman.
Cold horror churns my stomach, along with a twisted thankfulness. I really don’t want to endure that ever again, but is he seriously telling me that I am now permanently hairless? My body has been modified? Of all the very many things wrong with this, the fact that it feels emasculating is absurd. But apparently, that’s what’s on the forefront of my mind.
I’m staring at the prince in shocked outrage. So much so that I don’t notice the little fairy entering the room. He is just suddenly by the prince’s side. His sudden appearance is startling and it is hard to hide my flinch.
People don’t usually manage to sneak up on me. And this little guy looks like no one and nothing I have ever seen before. He looks like Tinker Bell’s brother. A Disney version of what a fairy looks like. I wasn’t aware that any of the fey looked quite like this.
The newcomer barely comes up to Llywelyn’s ribs. He is very slender, as well as very short. One green-tinged gossamer wing flutters, while a second stump of a wing is motionless. Leaf-green hair hides the fairy’s face as he holds up a crimson cushion for the prince to inspect.
In the centre of the plump cushion is a collar made of gold.
The fairy flinches as the prince picks up the collar. My eyes narrow. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Llywelyn is cruel to his servants. If I find out he tore this little dude’s wing off, it is going to be extremely hard to control myself.
Strong hands push down on my shoulders and the guards shove me onto my knees. I glare up at the prince, but he merely steps forward and puts the collar around my neck. It snaps shut with a sickening click.
Llywelyn steps back and smirks down at me. For a moment, I can’t see. The rage and disgust is so intense it consumes me. I do not like kneeling before him with a fucking collar on. Naked while he is fully clothed. Every single fucking thing about it is pissing me off.
Frantically, I inhale through my nose and seek my calm. That well of inner peace that I tap into often.
Llywelyn is not even human. He is not Caucasian. He is not a white man. His pale skin does not carry our world’s history. And for fuck’s sake, I had an additional psych evaluation done to check I could handle this. I told my colleagues that I could handle pretending to be a slave. It’s not real. It’s for the cause. It is so I can help save the entire human race from slavery.
This visceral reaction. This all-consuming fury, it serves no purpose.
Llywelyn blinks. His throat bobs. He leans back, shifting his body weight away from me.
It is slightly appeasing. Good. Let this despicable piece of shit be alarmed. He is going to learn that I am someone to fear. I am a dangerous man and he is going to stop his stupid little games.
The prince stares at me. Then he snaps his fingers. Everyone in the room bows and quickly scurries away. We are alone. Finally.
I get to my feet, and he takes a step backwards. Amber eyes narrowing in suspicion. At least this little fucker knows when he has pushed too far and I’m about to lose my shit. I’d like to think I would have remained professional if he hadn’t sent everyone away, but for the first time in my life, I can’t swear by it.
“You’re old and not pretty!” Llywelyn snips with an infuriating tilt to his chin.
His words jar. For a moment, my mind balks at them. Did he really just say that? He had to send his servants away because I was about to blow, and now these, these are his words to me?
Time for another deep breath. And then another. I can’t throw the little shit over my knee and spank him like he deserves, so I’m going to have to let it roll off my back.
“I would never choose you for a pet,” he sulks as he crosses his arms. “You’re not at all what I requested and nobody at court is going to believe this.”
I clench my fists. “Sadly, Your Highness, we don’t have any highly trained Special Agents who are children.”
The prince simply sniffs. As if he is not at all insulted by the accusation that he likes children in his bed. My stomach heaves. I think I have met the very worst person on the planet. I certainly have never hated anyone more.
One more deep breath. “You are just going to have to convince all your friends that you think I am hot.”
