Page 21 of Chased By the Fairy

Standing on the centre stage with his knees buckled inwards, Sorrel felt overly bare and awkward under the light. He held the pole with both hands and gripped it for courage. The light blinded him from seeing the patrons, but he could feel their leering stares.

Music had already started playing, and they were expecting him to dance.

Some of the other workers had fawned over him before twisting his long hair into two braids.

In one of the back rooms, both male and female animal sprites had cooed about how pretty he was, how soft his skin was, and how strong his muscles were as they dressed him. Apparently, his eyes were a stunning kind of frosty blue, and his hair was silky and such a nice colour.

He didn’t know if they were being so nice to him because they could tell he was anxious, or they were actually being truthful.

They weren’t here by force like he was. They knew he didn’t want to be here, yet they said nothing and did nothing to help.

They explained that Mr Toad probably wanted him because he was so pretty and looked like a flowery fairy but wasn’t one. There were hushed whispers about how their employer had once been in love with a flower fairy but had been cruelly rejected.He’d been hateful of them ever since.

They said he was jealous of their beauty.

Sorrel didn’t give a shit.

He wanted to go home. He’d been trapped in this damn toy boat for two nights and this was his second morning here.

He clutched the pole tighter.Mother must be so worried.

“Dance, pretty boy!” A patron whistled, since he hadn’t started moving yet. “I wanna see that ass shake.”

Sorrel turned his head to where Mr Toad was watching from the shadows, most likely with a sour, annoyed expression.

“Don’t lose me money,”he’d threatened.

He’d tried everything to get out of this yesterday, but after two nights and Cypress still hadn’t come to rescue him, he didn’t know what else to do. If he didn’t start dancing, Mr Toad had already threatened unimaginable punishments.

Sorrel wasn’t particularly interested in pain, or being starved, or whatever unnamed torture he had planned.

He could handle the embarrassment, at least with this many patrons.

He’d been told he could attempt his first time on stage in the morning when there were fewer people. He figured it was Mr Toad’s attempt at being kind and considerate – not that it really was.

He was nice only when it suited him. The rest of the time, he was mean and frightful.

Looking down at his attire, Sorrel cringed.

Dressed in dark-blue genie pants and a brown vest, both were expected to be removed if he had courage. He shuddered, not wanting to picture the glittering underwear he’d been forced to wear, made to highlight the bulge of his flaccid cock and sac.

He wouldn’t be stripping today, or perhaps ever, but he could at least dance. This was usually something he loved doing, to buck and sway with the tempo of a beat.

Sorrel closed his eyes and moved, pretending nothing existed.

He wasn’t in front of people. He wasn’t on some rocking boat with a bar.I’m just dancing like I do for Greta.He wasn’t trying to be sexual; he was just pretending the pole was his partner, who was dipping or twirling him.It’s okay. No one else is there.

Well, maybe if Cypress was there, it would be okay – but only if it was him alone watching.

He ignored those thoughts, not wanting to conjure him in his mind. Especially when the idea of being caught doing something like this was more embarrassing than his heart could really handle.

Sorrel had no problem with this act, with other dancer sprites doing this for their own enjoyment or payments. Some of the dancers even did private shows and did things he’d never even thought of. Overhearing a few of their conversations had opened his mind to the strange world he realised he was in.

He just didn’t want this for himself.

The song went on forever.

When it ended, he peeked open his eyes only so he could find the way off the stage. He didn’t care to collect the coins; he didn’t want a single one.

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