"Yeah. Should I let him in?"
"Might as well. I want this thing gone."
Anxious excitement gripped my chest. Castor was back. We were one step closer to freedom.
I lay there like a wet rag, though I opened my eyes fully so I didn't seem like I was on death's door.
"Right this way, Mr... What did you say your name was?"
"Canadensis." That was Castor's voice.
"Uh, right. Mr. Canada."
Of course they couldn't even get his fake name right.
Castor strolled confidently into the room with the two poachers flanking him from behind. They looked cautiously hopeful, desperate for the sale now that Mr. Z had blacklisted them from whatever black market community he was a part of.
But I wasn't looking too hard at them. Castor seized my attention. His appearance made my jaw drop. Unlike the simple clothes he wore earlier, he looked completely different now. A thick fur coat—likely his own beaver pelt altered through shifting—was draped over his shoulders. He scanned the room with a cool, calm expression. He oozed wealth. No wonder the poachers were trailing him like a pair of hungry dogs.
And then Castor looked at me. My heart flipped. Even though I knew this was all an act, I couldn't help but feel excited when he observed me. I melted every time he put on that stern, commanding persona.
"Is that the mermaid?" Castor asked.
I shivered. Somehow the term—wrong as it was—felt a little titillating when it came from his lips. I knew the poachers put up their ad with that incorrect phrase so Castor was only playing along.
"Yes, that's it."
"I'm going to take a closer look," Castor said.
"Please, go ahead."
Castor stepped towards the tub. He didn't rush. Just like Mr. Z had done, Castor took his time scanning my body. But unlike Mr. Z, being scrutinized by Castor felt strangely pleasant. Exciting, even. I swallowed hard and squeezed my thighs closer together to hide my twitching cock. I don't know why my stupid body thought this was a good time to get hard. Couldn't it wait until I was out of peril?
"It has legs," Castor said mildly.
The poachers stiffened.
"Yes," one said. "But they're not real, sir, I promise you. It's all an act."
If only he knewthiswas an act, not my legs.
Castor didn't take his eyes off me. "Hmm. Is that right?"
His tone was unreadable, and it made the poachers panic.
"Yes, I swear. It's all magic."
Castor raised a hand. "Then I'm going to touch them. Surely if they're fake, I'll notice."
My eyes widened. He wasn't really going to...?
The poachers exchanged a glance, shrugged, then nodded. "Go ahead."
There was a mischievous glimmer in Castor's eyes as he bent down, his hand reaching for my thigh. My body went still, both from the surprise of this dangerous yet lewd act, and because Castor’s palm on my skin felt good. I didn't dare look behind him to see what the poachers thought about all this. If they weren't interrupting, they must've thought this was all part of the purchase. It made sense for a potential buyer to want to feel the product with his own hands, right?
Despite how good it felt, I tried to keep my expression between neutral and annoyed. I didn't want to give away the truth that this was all a game. I met Castor's gaze and he smiled warmly. Since his back was turned to the men, they couldn't see his face.
I shuddered as Castor's hand snaked down my thigh towards my knee. A pulse of pleasure erupted between my legs and I shoved them closer together. Why did it feel so good to be touched like this in such a dangerous situation? The egg I hatched out of must've been dropped or something.
