They’d given him a prison jumpsuit again, one piece washed out grey, and the bag went back on his head. Now his hands were cuffed with heavier transport irons, as was his legs. His balls ached. He guessed, as they moved him, that he went up an elevator out of the jail, with a guard holding each of his arms.
The car they fed him into sat low, with large comfortable leather seats, suggesting the long body and comforts of a limousine. He could hear Annette talking to the guard on either side of him as they handed him into the car. Once inside another male arm clamped onto one of his. He guessed it was a man servant or a bodyguard by the gloves on his hands. The car door slammed shut.
“Home, please,” Annette said, her voice coming across from him.
The car took off. Phillip shifted in his seat, wondering what particular relationship Annette had to his arrest. She wasn’t, to his knowledge, involved in anything but charitable organization and the plethora of social events ruling class ladies devoted their time to.
“When will you kill me?”
“Be quiet please,” she said calmly. “Adam, you are in my custody. You will do as you’re told and perhaps you will survive. But remember, there is no Joeshi family any longer. They were traitors and Philip Joeshi cemented that fact when he broke the pact of his uncle and decided to make himself an enemy of the state. You have no family, no rights, no wealth and no friends.”
“I would rather die than betray my name. My father is a hero!” But beneath the hood he wondered if they’d really killed his uncle, despite the man’s long term loyalty to king and council. It was a not unheard of punishment, but Philip steeled himself against pity. By swearing fealty to the regime he had betrayed the name of Joeshi and deserved to be caught in the backlash.
“Adam,” she said softly. “There are fates much worse than a bullet in the back of the head.”
“Believe me Adam, I will,” though he could not see it, Annette shook her head chidingly. “You will learn to obey, and in time it will become your very nature.”
Sullen in his hood, Phillip stayed silent for the rest of the hour long drive. Point made, Annette kept herself busy with a book.
When they reached the house, and navigated the check points that assured for the security of the estate, she watched dispassionately as her new property was dragged from the car and thrown onto the ground. She heard the man’s grunt of pain- with his wrists manacled he wasn’t able to catch himself and fell heavily on the flagstone walk way.
“Crawl on your belly.”
Phillip tried to rise and her body guard gave him a sharp kick in the ribs. Phillip grunted again. “Bitch.”
“Crawl. People walk, but Adam, you haven’t earned the right to be a person yet.”
It took several more kicks to get him moving towards the house, dragging himself with his elbows. The hood gave him near perfect darkness and the foot against his side was the only guide. He inched his way along, still wondering what Annette was planning. He hadn’t broken under torture yet, but then again he hadn’t known much worth learning.
The stone was hard and rough, though the thick fabriced prisoner’s uniform protected him from the worst of it. He could hear birds and dogs barking. He imagined this must be the Harrington country compound. Before her death, when he was a little boy, his mother had attended parties here.
Inside, naked and shivering somewhere in the large building’s cellar, he was blasted with cold water and held down and shaved with electric trimmers, both of the heavy stubble that he’d grown in his week in prison and the thick dark hair on his head. Annette stood off to the side, holding her white cotton gloves in one hand.
She licked her lips, excited to see him stripped and forcibly bathed. The loose, wavy mop of his hair had been quite handsome, but if she wished she could allow him to grow it back. The next step was most crucial to her plan. She had her new property spread eagled on his back, limbs bound to a clean table. The lights were bright and a man in an ugly green coat with a black bag waited to the side of the table, accompanied by a woman dressed in a similar fashion.
When Phillip was properly secured, the woman and the man laid out medical tools. He felt them swab down his scrotum with something wet and cold, numbing. The woman who did the swabbing declared it was lidocaine.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” Phillip lifted his head up, just in time to see the man tap a needle with one gloved finger.
“Shhhh. I had considered an orchidectomy, but Dr. Martlet assures me this is better and safer,” Annette took Phillip’s head in both hands, holding it to the table. “This is a non-scalpel vasectomy. I’m told it was a Chinese idea originally. It’s supposed to have fewer side effects.”
“Jesus Christ!” Numbed from pain killers, Phillip couldn’t feel anything more than tugging as the doctor and his assistant manipulated his balls, using hemostats to penetrate the skin. Annette stroked his face, but held him down to the table. “What…?”
“Shhh, darling, shhhh…”She used her strength to keep his head to the table. “It will be quick.”
Love “Catamite”? Find Book 1 as the ebook “The Pet Gentleman“, available now.