Deep in the heart of Fairybug Manor, Philippe, the heir of the fairybug estate, reveled in the splendor of his heritage and status.
Tonight, however, Philippe's thoughts were preoccupied not with the beauty of his home but with the delightful anticipation of dinner.
He stretched out his hands, and the loyal servants immediately began their task of removing his gloves. Their nimble fingers worked swiftly, pulling and taking out the piece of clothing.
As they proceeded to help him out of his coat, Philippe's eyes wandered, absorbing the familiar faces of those who attended to him daily. Suddenly, a soft knock echoed through the room.
"Enter," Philippe commanded, his voice calm yet authoritative.
The door opened to reveal Goldfish, the butler. His bright gold hair and dark pink eyes gave him an ethereal presence. Goldfish bowed deeply, his movements graceful and measured.
"Dinner is ready, my Lord," Goldfish announced, his voice as polished as his appearance.
Philippe nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I shall be there shortly."
Goldfish bowed once more and exited the room, his presence as fleeting as a shadow.
Philippe returned his attention to the task at hand, allowing the servants to continue their work. It was then that he noticed an unfamiliar face among them.
The new servant was markedly different from the others. She was very short, barely reaching Philippe's chin, with dark pink hair that cascaded like a waterfall of roses and eyes the color of freshly ripened oranges. Her beauty was striking that captured Philippe's attention immediately.
Philippe's smile widened as he addressed her. "What do we have here?" he mused, "Vra, what is your name?" his gaze fixed on the new servant.
The girl looked up, her eyes meeting Philippe's with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. "My name is Tinkerbell, sir," she replied, her voice soft yet clear.
"Tinkerbell?" Philippe echoed, the name rolling off his tongue like a whispered secret. "What a beautiful name for a pretty girl like you."
Tinkerbell blushed, a delicate pink hue spreading across her cheeks. She bowed humbly. "Thank you, my lord."
Philippe took a step closer, his interest in her growing with each passing moment. "How long have you been here, Tinkerbell?" he asked, his tone gentle but probing.
"Not long, my lord," she replied, keeping her eyes respectfully lowered. "I arrived just a few days ago."
Philippe nodded, satisfied with her response. "You will find Fairybug Manor a most enchanting place," he said. "I trust you will enjoy your time here."
Tinkerbell glanced up briefly, her eyes shimmering with surprise that a lord was talking to a servant like her.
Philippe stretched out his hand and placed it gently on Tinkerbell's shoulder. The warmth of her skin under his touch sent a thrill through him, but her reaction was unexpected. She drew away, her movement swift and instinctual, as if his touch had burned her.
Philippe's eyes darkened, his initial surprise quickly giving way to a simmering anger. "Do you know who I am?" he bellowed.
Tinkerbell's eyes widened in fear, and she took a step back, her small frame trembling. "I know who you are, my lord," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Philippe took a step closer, his towering presence looming over her. "You know who I am, and yet you pushed my hand away?" His voice dripped with contempt. "You, this pestering fly, this dirty swine. I touched you, and you..." He trailed off, his gaze narrowing as he noticed the naivety and innocence in her eyes. "Are you a virgin?"
Tinkerbell's face flushed, and she nodded, her voice quivering as she spoke. "Vra, my lord. Your servant has known no man. I want to keep it for my future mate."
Philippe's eyes lightened with a predatory gleam. "Really?" he mused, a wolfish smile spreading across his face. "Well, your future mate is not around." He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "He was going to make a meal of her," he thought, his mind racing with the possibilities. The dinner could wait.
Turning to the rest of the servants, who stood frozen in place, Philippe commanded, "The rest of you, get out. I want to have a word with Tinkerbell alone."
Philippe's eyes bore into her, filled with a hunger that made her skin crawl.
The servants exchanged furtive glances, their expressions a mix of resignation and pity. They knew what was about to happen; it was not the first time they had witnessed such an event. They had all experienced Philippe's cruel whims at some point, and there was nothing they could do to stop it. As the other servants filed out of the room, their heads bowed in resignation, Tinkerbell turned to leave with them, her heart pounding in her chest. But before she could take another step, Philippe's hand shot out and grabbed her arm, dragging her back with a force that made her gasp.
"No," Philippe growled, his grip tightening around her slender wrist. "You are not going anywhere."
Panic surged through Tinkerbell, and she began to squirm and struggle against him. She pushed and pulled, her wings fluttering in a desperate attempt to free herself, but Philippe was too strong. His iron grip held her fast, and his eyes, now dark and menacing, bore into hers with a predatory intensity.
Philippe moved closer, his hands reaching out to grip her shoulders firmly. "You will learn to respect your lord," he said, his voice a low growl. "I will teach you what it means to serve."
Tinkerbell's eyes filled with tears, but she bit her lip, refusing to cry out. She had always known that life as a servant at Fairybug Manor would be challenging, but she had never imagined it would come to this.
Philippe's grip tightened, and he pulled her closer, his breath hot against her cheek. "You are mine, Tinkerbell," he whispered. "And I will have you, whether you like it or not."
Tinkerbell cried out in fear, "Don't do this, please, I beg you!"
Philippe's interest in her seemed to grow with each futile movement she made. He pulled her closer, his lips curling into a sinister smile. "How can a female as beautiful as you be a virgin?" he mused, his voice dripping with a mixture of curiosity and contempt.
Tinkerbell's voice trembled as she replied, "I am keeping it for my mate, my lord. Please, let me go."
Philippe laughed softly, a cold and mirthless sound that sent shivers down Tinkerbell's spine. "What a virtuous fairy," he said mockingly. "I will be nice and gentle if you submit to me willingly, or I will take you by force. Either way, I will still have you."
Tinkerbell's eyes filled with tears, and she pleaded with him. "Please, just let me go. I won't tell anyone about this."
Philippe's laughter grew louder, more menacing. "Who do you want to tell? The king? Or perhaps the magistrate? Your naivety makes me laugh."
With a cold, calculated movement, Philippe began to open his trousers, his eyes never leaving Tinkerbell's terrified face. Desperation clawed at her, and she screamed, her voice echoing through the grand hall. Philippe's response was swift and brutal. He slapped her hard across the face, the force of the blow sending her reeling.
"Shut up, slut!" he snarled. "If you want to scream, scream. But rest assured, no one will come for you."
Tears streamed down Tinkerbell's cheeks as she felt the fabric of her gown tear under Philippe's rough hands. The sound of ripping cloth filled her ears, mingling with her sobs. She fought with every ounce of strength she had left, but Philippe's strength was overwhelming.
Just as Tinkerbell felt the last shreds of her gown being torn away, Philippe put his....