As the door shut behind Madre, Nightingale's pleasing smile dropped instantly. He could almost feel the temperature in the room dropping as she turned to glare at him. Her eyes, a lighter brown than her hair, looked over him.

Ashamed, he gingerly covered his hard-on with his hands.

She sneered at him. “You are pathetic.”

His jaw dropped open as she stepped toward him. Her gaze seared across his skin, withering his cock instantly as she gestured at him. “Nothing but a fucking pretty boy, aren't you? And you just ‘fall’ into the harem? And she doesn't throw your ass to the guards!?”

Her icy voice slammed into him and Derik let out a whimper.

“And then, you just roll around with the girls, like a fucking bloody wolf who just crawled into the sheep. But, she still doesn't report you. She should have cut off your fucking balls and dragged your carcass in front the baron!”

Derik whimpered and stumbled as the back of his knees smacked against the edge of Madre's bed.

Nightingale suddenly shoved him hard, throwing him back on the bed.

He yelped as he flipped over and landed face-first on the thick blankets. When he looked up, she just growled at him.

“And if you think I'm going to jerk, suck, or even fuck you, regardless of what Madre says, you can just drown yourself in her damned tub and rid of us of your fucking presence. As far as I'm concerned, the second I find a damn guard, I'm going to make a pervert like you gets his dues!”

Her voice reached a shrill point.

Derik trembled as he stared up at her. The peace of his afterglow had faded under the assault of her anger. Only the pain in his reddened ass cheeks complemented the rage in those burning brown eyes.

“Now get your fucking clothes on and go serve Madre. I have better things to do than deal with a cross-dressing fuck.”

Spinning on her heels, she yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind her. The air blew past Derik and he whimpered, trembling as he stared at it.

He heard footsteps and the door slammed open again. Nightingale peered inside. “And if you fucking mention this to Madre, I'll cut your balls off personally!”

The door slammed shut again and Derik blinked back the sudden tears that formed in his eyes. Trembling, he lifted himself to his knees. Madre's bed was soft—very soft—and he had to struggle to get back to the edge of it. To his surprise, his legs trembled as he set them down on the cooler ground. Glancing at the door, he stood up and turned around, unsure what to do.

Rubbing his shoulder where Nightingale hit him, he was surprised to see a bit of blood where her fingernail caught him. Moving as gingerly as he could, he returned to the tub and sunk into it, rubbing the wound to clean it. Sitting back up, he stared at the water for a long moment; he held his fingers against the cut waiting for the blood to stop flowing.

A tear burned down his cheek and he sniffed, wiping it away. He tried to understand why he was upset. He was a thief, only taking advantage of their kindness to prevent himself from being thrown in the dungeon or execution. It was a role, he knew that, but the venom in her voice and actions still brought tears to his eyes.

Derik sat for a long moment, wondering what was wrong.

He finally stirred from his thoughts, rising out of the water. “I-I better get going.”

Slowly, he got out and found a large towel. His soft cock was sticky, but he didn't want to get back in the water. Instead, he wiped it down as much as possible. Cleaned up, he carefully set the towel on the edge of the tub and padded over to the desk.

Hundreds of papers, orders, and accounting statements. He noticed some of the paperwork for invoices, but most of it was beyond his cursory skill to understand. On the corner, he spotted a set of silk clothes and picked them up.

The first piece was obvious. A pair of sapphire-tinted silk panties. He blushed hotly as he stared down at the rest of the sapphire silk and wondered if Madre knew something about the theft.

Unwilling to risk her wrath, he put on the panties. They were snug, holding his cock tightly against his body and clinging to every curve of his buttock. He shivered at the feel of silk on his shaved skin and his manhood twitched with every movement.

When he picked up the bra, Derik was hit with a serious epiphany.

Madre was turning him into a woman.

It was obvious, but there was something about holding up the silk bra that brought everything into crystal clarity. He started to shake as he fingered the fabric between his fingers, staring at the door. Madre had no ventilation shafts in her room for him to escape. Looking down, he saw a shadow outside of the door. Someone waiting for him. No doubt Nightingale to threaten him again. If he came out not wearing clothes, she would know instantly, and he trembled at the thought.

It was the coward's way out, but he licked his dry lips and stared down at the silk bra. After a long minute of consideration, he took a deep breath.

“Just a few days, what is the worst that can happen. Just… stay away from Gale and keep Madre happy, then I can get the fuck out of here.”

Encouraged, he fumbled with the bra. It was an elastic one, not with the wires that he was used to watching whores take off. It took him a moment to pull it down over his flat, hairless chest. To his surprise, it fit snugly against him just like the panties.

It also felt very good.

He pulled up a silk top. Working it above his head, he let it slid down his skin. It brought a different type of flush to his cheeks as it settled into place, the two thin straps over his shoulders and the fabric fluttering against his skin. His cock grew from the slick material, tenting the delicate panties and soaking around the tip of his shaft.

The final piece was a matching silk robe, not unlike the ones most of the harem wore. Slipping it on, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

For a brief moment, he could almost imagine himself as a woman. That tiny spark of realization sent a shiver down his spine and he turned to stare fully at the mirror.

Except for the lack of hips and breasts, he could suddenly see why the others kept calling him gay. He fingered the robe, considering throwing it aside, but he needed to keep the charade for just a few more days.

The, he promised himself, he would sprint away with the sapphire and never return.

His eyes scanned her room, and he remembered being in a very similar situation once before, standing in a room with Wendi and her mother screaming on the other side of the door. Wendi had just caught him fucking her mother against the altar and responded with the full rage of a battle mage. Only her mother's quick spell saved them both from having their flesh sloughed off in an instant. The same dread filled him as he looked at the shadow of the door, the same feeling of something terrible outside.

Derik didn't know what to do. He had no clue. He was trapped. Caught by his own lies. Somewhere beyond that door was the baron, his men, and a battle mage who knew his secret. And the guards who may be waiting for him as soon as he stepped outside.

He was nothing but a thief. A thief wearing silk panties. A practical slave of an entire harem.

He chuckled at the thought. It gave him a brief respite and he looked at himself in the mirror. His long black hair cascaded down his back and he looked back with the face of a man who could be a woman.

Soft.

Delicate.

He sighed, “She's right. I am pathetic.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I'm also a coward.”

He padded to the door. As his fingers reached the handle, he spotted a bit of deep blue cord on a shelf. Looking back at the mirror, he got a sudden idea. Picking it up, he gasped as a tingle traveled up his arms, but nothing else happened. Shrugging, he returned to the mirror and began to braid his hair.

It seemed like the right thing to do.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to finish. But his hair became a magnificent black line with the deep blue rope woven in to keep everything in place. He smiled as he looked at himself, feeling at bit more in control of his life. He also relished stealing something, even if minor.

Cleaned up and dressed, Derik stood in front of the door. Beyond was the great unknown. It could be the baron, Madre, or even guards with sharp swords. But, it could be nothing but pussies and sex. There really was only one way for him to face it. Only one way to keep together the lies he trapped himself with. Only one way to open that door. Only one thing to do.

He opened the door not as Derik but as Dora.