«I know.» My Owner eased my thighs apart. “You’re a naughty thing, Sniper, spreading confusing rumors to keep us guessing.” I couldn’t look down, but saw a subtle smile as their fingers cracked the seal. (I thought hard about whether to reveal this here, but it’s time. I remain infinitely grateful to everyone who helped me keep the secret this long: the Celebrity Youth Act, my coaches, doctors, teammates, journalists, my many fans who knew, and many more who burned to know but respected my request so much you even rioted outside The Scoop that time they threatened an exposé. But it’s time to free you all from that silence, that mystery, to let you see completely what I was, now that my doll days are over.) “A boy,” my Owner announced. “Not surprising. No, wait.” They leaned closer, their long hair tickling my thighs, which could not twitch. “Both! Oh, excellent.” They lifted my penis gingerly and reached past to feel the vaginal folds behind. “You sweet thing, you didn’t want to disappoint fans who got used to either model. How thoughtful!” They spread me further, the room’s air cold against the wetness of my labia. “It’s a beautiful job, seamless!” They turned again to the Gift-giver. «Which sex were they originally, do you know?»

The Gift-giver leaned forward. «I couldn’t tell. Everything down there looks genuine. I could take some hair to the lab.»

«No need. This is how Sniper should be, now that I think about it.» My Owner withdrew their hands from my penis carefully, as if handling a baby bird. «Oh! It twitched.» They chuckled their delight. «Can they perform?»

«Of course. The paralysis is very selective. It’ll take some massage, but you can get it up if you want.»

«Mmm. Not much massage from the look of it. Somebody’s enjoying themself.» My Owner ran a finger up my cheek. “Aren’t you?”

Knowing no answer would come, my Owner tasted my lips again and eased me forward, their affection washing over me like a good movie, which takes you to all the peaks of passion without you having to lift a finger. They were used to my body, knew just how my shoulders swing, and at what height to hook my chin over their shoulder.

«How long can I keep them?»

It was a burning question for me, too.

The Gift-giver shrugged. «That’s up to Your Holiness. If you want to keep it permanently I can bring what you’ll need, but it’ll be difficult keeping its Olympic physique from deteriorating in captivity, and there’ll be quite the manhunt. I recommend catch-and-release: you enjoy yourself, then have me return Sniper to the wild and take it again when next you’re in the mood.»

«Would that work?»

«Certainly. I estimate another two hours until the rest of the bash’ realizes Sniper’s missing, but they’ll hunt in secret for at least a day before letting the news get beyond His Grace the Duke. So long as we get Sniper back this evening there won’t be any larger fuss. We can erase its memory as extra security if you like, but I’m sure it won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.» They switched to growling English. “If I can do this much to it when I’m calm, it can imagine what I’d do if I were angry.”