Kyle hadn't endured the stresses necessary to become a successful banking executive before age 30 just to have this capricious magical imp wreck his life, transforming him into a puny, naked eight-year-old male child, collared and bidden to respond to the leprechaun's every whim and command.
He used his every waking moment to think of a means to outwit the leprechaun. He hadn't become a successful alpha male in the banking business without outthinking bigger men than the magical runt. He might no longer have the brawn and physique that bestowed alpha male status, but he was determined to reverse his regression into that of a sniveling, submissive slave boy. He still had his adult intellect, and he decided it was time to put his trump card into play. He adopted the expected persona, but he used his every spare moment to devise schemes to best the leprechaun and win back his adult body.
His master appeared to work with equal diligence to see that every waking moment kept his new slave boy occupied with some task, no matter how menial, such as preparing him a cup of hot tea. Despite the challenge of having to complete his expected labors while trapped in the form of a physically weak boy that might have weighed 55 pounds sopping wet, Kyle performed his chores without giving the leprechaun cause for complaint, or cause to repeat those brutal shocks that could be administered at the spur of the moment thanks to the nefarious collar that encircled the boy's neck and rested on his thin, bony shoulders.
Kyle walked into the room that served as the leprechaun's study and library. The leprechaun sat hunched over a ledger. The little creature used a quill pen to scribble notes in the margins of the pages with names and figures. He muttered angrily as he made the adjustments. Kyle placed the cup on a nearby table and gazed around the room.
He studied the row of shelves arranged along one wall and noticed a particular title — "Secrets of the Leipreachán"— on the spine of one of the many books on the shelves. Kyle didn't dare breathe. He averted his gaze to another corner of the chaotic room. He mustn't let the leprechaun see that he had noticed the book.
He needn't have worried. The leprechaun hadn't even looked up from the ledger. Kyle tried to leave the room, but the leprechaun finally took a sip of the tea. "It's cold," he complained and slammed the cup back down on the tabletop.
"Well, it's been sitting there for several minutes," Kyle whispered. "And you keep this room so cold."
"Are you contradicting me?" The leprechaun asked and narrowed his eyes. "I bring you here, give you a position in my home, and I'm subjected to excuses?
Kyle felt vulnerable, not the least because he had to stand naked in front of the leprechaun's withering stare. He dropped his hands in front of his embarrassingly small privates.
"Get out, and bring me a cup of hot tea," the leprechaun said churlishly.
Kyle grabbed the cup and tried to scurry from the room, but he didn't get past the seated leprechaun without his master landing a whack with the flat of his palm against Kyle's bare boy buns.
Kyle, still smarting from the slap, needed to get a look at that book on his master's shelves. Since his bizarre captivity's start, the book with the intriguing title represented his best lead so far.