Perfect Master(11)
“It’s traditional for the royal eunuchs to remove their hair. By now it seems as natural as brushing my teeth to lather up each morning and shave my head clean. Stroking it with the razor feels almost as good as stimulating my prostate with a dildo.” Hikaru set down the comb and clippers and tunneled a finger into the short curls at the crown of Emerald’s head. “There. I think you’re finished here. Are you ready for your wig?”
“Yes.” She didn’t relish wearing the heavy, jeweled headgear, but she figured she had to put up with a little discomfort for the prestige of being consort to her country’s reclusive Crown Prince Arik.
“Close your eyes, my lady.” When Hikaru clapped his hands, the door flew open. She felt a surprisingly light weight settle on her head, heard the eunuch dismiss whoever had come in. Something soft and silky fell over her shoulders, kissing her belly, her arms and legs.
“You may look now.”
Yesterday a submissive bride, today a princess. The short, curly-haired wig, not much different from the hair Hikaru had just trimmed, had been strewn with diamonds set on fine wire mesh. Her robes were not gold or silver but a shimmering combination of both colors, so sheer she could have spotted the smallest blemish if one had dared pop up on her royal person. “I want to see my Master now,” she said, imagining him similarly attired, his muscles rippling beneath his own princely robe.
“In but a few moments, my lady. I must go and ready him now that he has broken his fast.”
* * * * *
This morning he’d even hidden his cock behind black leather. He had to be roasting in the heat, for Obsidion’s sun beat down on them as they strolled through the palace gardens. Emerald bit back a sarcastic comment when she smiled up at Prince Arik, or rather at the single deep-brown eye that was all of him that she could see. “How do you eat?” she blurted before she could call back the words.
“The same way you do, I imagine.” His tone implied amusement, but it infuriated her, having to converse with a mate she’d fucked and sucked yet never seen up close. “I take my meals in my chamber.”
Away from everybody, including me. “Why?”
“Because I cannot eat while I wear this.” He lifted his left hand and touched the spot where she guessed his mouth must be. “Trust me, my princess. You don’t want me to remove it.”
Did he hide some horrible disfigurement? Emerald couldn’t imagine he did. Still he seemed quite sane—not the sort of man who’d adopt his fearsome mode of attire for no better reason than to intimidate his father’s subjects. “Were you in your chamber the night before we mated? Standing in the window overlooking town?”
“Yes. I find it clears my mind, looking down at the Street of Pleasure, imagining myself playing there like other men.”
“I saw you. You are beautiful. Perfect. I wondered then as I wonder now why you choose to hide behind all this.” When she reached out and touched the leather stretched over his right upper arm, he winced.
“I don’t know what you thought you saw, or what kind of trick telescope you were using. I’m not beautiful. I am scarred, so scarred I would terrify children and give their mothers nightmares if I didn’t wear this bodysuit.” He spoke slowly, as though he thought her a simple-minded child. “The scars are reminders of injuries I suffered years ago in a dogfight off Eastphalia with three mercenary captains. My father had sent them to kill me and they almost succeeded, in case you want to know.”
She’d attributed his halting gait to the tight leather bodysuit, but maybe… “Were your legs injured?” That was the only possible infirmity she’d noticed.
“One leg. One arm. One side of my body and face.” He sounded weary, resigned. “If you saw me in the window and didn’t notice, it must have been my uninjured side you were ogling. Come with me. You have already taken my seed into your luscious body. Since you’re obviously fascinated about seeing what I hide from the rest of my father’s subjects, I will show you.”
* * * * *
In his chamber, Arik punched a button on the intercom. “Contain yourself, my princess. The unveiling will necessarily have to wait until my body servant arrives. Meanwhile, you may disrobe. I’ll enjoy watching you, and watching him restrain you.”
“I need no restraining. I am your willing mate.” Her steady gaze as she slipped off her royal robes and stood before him naked but for her wig very nearly persuaded him she spoke the truth—that she possessed the fortitude necessary to withstand looking at the devastation that nearly made him vomit every time he saw himself.