You’re no Hero

1)

	Circe Faroda was a name well known among wizards of questionable morality.  In fact, the less moral and more powerful they were, the more likely they were to have dealings with her.  She traded in favors, goods, and influence to further her own ends.  Most times, the charms, potions, and poisons she created found their way into the hands of those with evil designs.  This was the sort of person who viewed everyone else as either pawns or playthings, the very last sort of person who should have power over anyone.  Her devices were used to ensnare common folk and heroes alike.  They were used to twist their bodies and minds.  They were made into obedient slaves or toys, if not killed outright.  Among evil, selfish magic users, it made her very popular.
	Of course, being well known among villains also made one well known among heroes.  No heroes had ever directly encountered her, just her handiwork.  Being well known did not stop her name from being shrouded in mystery.  Vanquished wizards spoke her name with reverence.  Those on the run from her spoke it with fear, asking any hero they could for protection from her.  She existed out there in the ether, a crime lord of sorts.  A boogeyman with her own pocket dimension who did all of her business through intermediaries.  Most knew something had to be done about her, but she was very difficult to find.  There was little motivation to go after her due to her being reasonably contained and unreasonably dangerous to go after on her home turf.  Most stories painted her as a being of incredible power.  Even if exaggerated, it was enough to make most heroes hesitate.  Take care of those influenced by her and, someday, she would die of old age.
	One hero took a more direct approach.  He heard rumors of someone that had escaped her clutches.  Whispers of a mage who managed to slip away from her and went into hiding.  Although he did not know who it was and would never meet them, it was enough to give him confidence that her power was not absolute.   It motivated him to go after her.
	This hero was named Nathan.  Nathan was a fairy, sort of.  He was technically a candy fairy, but it was difficult to neatly categorize him into just one area.  He was a mixture of things, a shapeshifter, a fairy, and half dragon.  His resting form resembled a weasel.  He had a long, skinny body with grayish silver fur.  His markings were unusual for his species.  He had a green mask around his sky-blue eyes, like that of a raccoon.  Three green stripes were on his back, as well as a green X upon his chest.  He also had green fur on all four of his paws, hands and feet.  Even his long, tapered tail ended with a green tuft of fur.  Like any good fairy, he had wings.  These were not wings like one would find on an insect, bird, or even a butterfly.  They were fleshy, like those of a bat.  A soft, gray fuzz covered the flesh on their bones, but the webbing was bright blue.  Any exposed flesh on the candy fairy’s body was a blue so bright that it almost looked bioluminescent.   It gave his wings and inner ears all the more character.  Nathan’s natural size was more fairy than dragon.  He was six inches long from the tip of his nose to the base of his tail.  His limbs were a couple of inches long, his wingspan four inches long, and his tail another four inches long.  Small, perhaps, but size did not mean everything.  Fairy magic was potent and a diminutive stature made for a frustratingly difficult target.  When it came to getting physical, the fairy weasel could grow to a more imposing size.  A hero, an adventurer, and a competent warrior mage, this was how Nathan viewed himself.  His resume had plenty of valiant exploits to back this up.  Being a prince of his home kingdom did not hurt either.
	Nathan was more than willing to take Circe on.  With as many powerful wizards as he had taken down, she would be no different.  His confidence was in his own abilities.  The unusual nature of his magic was enough to flummox most dark mages.  He was clever enough with a sword, or an axe, to easily dispatch a feeble, sedentary magic user.  They rarely put in much time at the gym, especially averse to doing cardio.  He had heard Circe was a charming woman and not just in the sense of being beautiful.  She could bend people to her will, either through charisma or enchantments.  Nathan did not fear this either.  He saw his own character as being completely unshakable.  No matter what she promised him, he would not believe her.  Above reproach, he would never be tempted.
	Being unable to find her himself, Nathan sought out the most talented wizard he could find.  Well, the most talented one that was also the most reckless.  Perhaps the most touched by madness as well.  No sane wizard of good reputed wanted anything to do with her.  He offered to teleport Nathan near her home with only a slight chance that he would explode.  Ten percent at the most.  Maybe fifteen, but that was it, he promised.  All he asked for in return was a ruby parrot.  As this sounded like the beginning of a convoluted and frustrating fetch quest, Nathan fashioned him one out of hard candy.  He figured the old coot would never know the difference.  He was right.  The delight that he expressed almost made Nathan feel bad about his deception.  Before he could say anything, the spell was cast.  In a flash, he vanished into the space between worlds.

	Instantaneous travel was usually nauseating, but not for the fairy.  Nathan had been through it so many times that his body adapted.  With a form as malleable as his, it was not hard.  He materialized in the middle of a dense forest.  After a few seconds of dizziness, he was able to get his bearings.  The forest stretched around him in all directions except for one.  Up ahead, in a clearing, was a stately mansion.  Even shrouded by trees, it loomed impressively in the distance.  It did not look like it belonged, but still seemed to fit there.  It was the exact sort of place one would expect a sorceress to call her home.  Isolated and fancy.  He needed to make his way toward it.  It felt strangely cold in the forest.  Just being in it gave him an odd, uncanny feeling.  His fur was practically standing on end.  He stretched out his wings and took to the air.  Why walk when one could fly?  That was how tiny fairies got around.  He glided about three feet off of the ground, high enough to avoid any forest debris.  
In half a minute, he was out of the forest.  The cold sensation vanished, as did the crawling sensations under his fur.  He was never happier to leave a wooded area.  Regardless, it was much nicer around the mansion.  The air around the mansion was a pleasant temperature.  Warm, but not too warm.  No doors were readily visible.  Lots of closed windows, lots of pristine, white walls, lots of fancy curtains, but no means of entry.  Far to his right, there was a fenced in garden full of strange plants.  Just looking at it gave the weasel a bad feeling.  He wanted to put as much distance as he could between himself and the garden, so he started heading left.  He rounded the corner of the mansion and kept fluttering, but he did not have to fly far.  
The fairy found something more promising.  There was a single room jutting out of the side of the mansion like an unusual growth.  It almost looked like it did not belong, which was probably why it was tucked away in the back corner.  Nathan could easily see inside of it, as the walls were made of glass panes.  Lines crossed from one side of the room to the other.  Upon them were hanging a variety of linens, mostly curtains and blankets.  It must have been a laundry room of sorts.  At the very least, it was where the laundered items were hung up to dry.  A pane on the each of three external walls of the room was slanted outward.  They were opened at the bottom to allow fresh air to flow through the room.  It probably kept the linen from getting musty.  The gap was too small for a person to get through.  A person, not a fairy.  Nathan smiled.  His trim, petite weasel body was just narrow enough to squeeze inside.  “Here I come, skunk.  I can smell your evil from out here.  Heh.”  He wagged his tail.  He fluttered down to the gap in one of the windows.  The opening was a little narrower than he thought, but was not insurmountable.  He gripped the edge and planted his feet against the wall.  Then, folding his wings against his back and squeezing in his middle, he nudged his way into the gap.  “Oof….this is a real pane in the glass.”  He quipped right before he popped through.
The inside of this room was just as dull as it looked from the outside.  A floor with neutral, gray tiles and lots of hanging linens.  Even the fanciest of mansions needed utility rooms.  Nathan weaved through the assorted items as he fluttered toward the one door in the room.  He was certain it led to the mansion proper.  It was closed, of course, but Nathan was strong for a fairy.  Without having to change his size, he pulled it open with a flap of his wings and zipped on through.  It led to a set of stairs leading down, which Nathan followed to another door.  “Wonder how many doors a place like this has.  A hundred?  More?  Maybe I should ask Circe before I kill her?  She’s probably counted.”  He said before continuing on.
Entering the next room, Nathan had to stop.  He caught a glimpse of what was probably a laundry room, but it was hard to tell as everything inside of it was glowing with such an intense, brilliant light it blinded him.  Like most fairies of his kind, he had the ability to see the magical auras.  Any trinket, weapon, or even furniture would be surrounded by a glowing corona.  This was not an ability Nathan could turn off.  His senses were assailed from all directions by a horrible rainbow of colors, flashing and shining through his field of vision.  He felt as though they were practically stabbing his brain with their rays.  “My eyes!  The goggles do nothing!”  He screamed as he clapped his paws over his baby blues.  He fluttered in an erratic zigzag, but the oppressive nature of all of the magic around him caused him to falter.  He spiraled to the floor and landed hard.  He tumbled into a heap and curled up.  Deep breaths, Nathan.  Wait for your body to adjust.  The sickening feeling and head pain would fade.  He tried to open his eyes again.  Immediately, they were dazzled by the auras and he had to shut them.  Not ready yet.  Was everything in this ridiculous mansion enchanted?  Why?!
“Gloria, look!”  A strange voice intoned.  Nathan swiveled one of his ears toward the source of the sound.  The voice was almost unnaturally light with a slight accent Nathan could not place.  He tried to open his eyes to look, but it was still too bright.  He shut them just as quickly.  With strangers in the room, he really hoped they were friendly.
“What?”  Another voice.  This one was trying to sound light too.  Underneath of the attempt, there was a gravely quality to the sound.  “We have work to…..oh!”  Nathan heard a giggle.  A pair of paws slid around Nathan.  His first instinct was to fight, but the touch had no hint of violence to it.  It was more being scooped up, as a child would their pet mouse.  The paws were soft and smooth.  The owner was wearing silk gloves.  “What is it?”  The second voice, probably Gloria, asked.
“I think it’s a fairy.”  The first voice stated.  Nathan was lifted off the ground.  He squirmed a little in the grip.  It was unsettling to be moved around when he could not see, no matter how comfortable it was to be held in such soft paws.
“You’re half right.  I’m a candy fairy.”  Nathan decided he had better speak up now so they did not think he was some kind of scared, feral creature.  The world was starting to feel less bright, the pounding in his head lessened.  He was starting to adapt.  He slowly tried to open his eyes.  Everything was still flashing dazzling colors, but they looked more like fading Christmas lights than spotlights.
He heard a pair of giggles in reply.  “A candy fairy!”  The voices said in unison.
“That’s adorable!”  Gloria added.
“He’s adorable!”  The first voice commented.  Nathan fully opened his eyes and looked up.  He could finally see again.
The paws holding him belonged to a standard cat, the sort of generic feline form that one associated with a common housecat.  Nathan’s eyes opened fully.  One would think a tiny creature waking up in the paws of a predatory animal would be terrifying, but that was not why Nathan was staring.  She was gorgeous.  The feline female had snowy, white fur.  It was not too short, but not too fluffy either, just the right length.  Her headfur was long and styled behind her head in a French braid.  It was black, but a light enough shade of black that it almost looked blue.  Her eyes were jade green, but that’s not what Nathan’s gaze lingered on.  The way he was held put him rather close to her massive breasts, looking even bigger due to Nathan’s size.  Her clothing seemed designed to show them off.  She wore a very revealing maid outfit, stereotypical in its design.  It had the apron, puffed shoulders, and lace trim that one expected.  The neckline was so low it showed off a lot of décolletage, he could easily see down it.  The garment was made of peach colored silk, the lace trim white.  A matching maid’s cap was perched atop her head.  She was wearing makeup, pink lipstick and mascara with a little peach eyeshadow.  She had a collar around her neck, a peach colored band of silk with lace trim.  In the center of it was a heart shaped clasp.  Nathan had to stare.  This was not what he expected when he came here.  “Uh, hi.”  He managed, feeling more than a little self-conscious.
“No need to be nervous, little guy.”  The other voice commented.  Nathan looked over to see who the cat was talking to.  Another maid, this one a black footed ferret.  She was dressed in a similar maid outfit to the cat’s, just in light yellow.  She was slightly trimmer than the cat, as a ferret should be.  She was a little taller, a slightly smaller bust, and had long legs in fishnet stockings.  She clicked closer to him, her high heels making sharp sounds on the tile floor.  Her headfur was raven black, hanging loose and wavy around her shoulders.  Her bangs were held back with clips to keep them out of her eyes.  She was also wearing a collar.  A ferret and a cat, two of Nathan’s favorites.  Was he in the right mansion?  It did not seem evil.  He sniffed the air.  They were wearing perfume.  It was quite pleasant, not overpowering.  Smelling it made Nathan feel warm all over.  “We’re not going to hurt you.  We don’t get to see many fairies.”  She reached a paw in and rubbed the tip against Nathan’s belly.  He did nothing to fight the touch.  Finding it agreeable, he straightened his back out to expose more of his tummy for rubs.
“Hehe, aww!  He likes it!  Such a little cutie!”  The cat exclaimed.  She leaned in and planted a big, wet kiss on Nathan’s face.  Her lips practically enveloped his head.  When she drew back, some of her lipstick had come off on his cheeks, staining them pink.  It helped hide the blush.
“Easy girls, heh.  I’m not here for….”  Nathan began, but got quiet when the cat licked her lips.  It was as if she was cleaning the remnants of a particularly tasty flavor from them.
“Hehe….he tastes sweet!”  The cat seemed surprised.  “He’s like a little gumdrop!”
“Huh….are candy fairies made of candy?”  The ferret asked.  “He doesn’t look like it.”
“Actually, I….ahh!”  Nathan shivered.  Not content with just a kiss, the cat leaned in and pushed her muzzle against Nathan’s belly.  Her tongue flicked out.  Then, with a long, slow lap, she dragged it between his legs, over his belly, up his chest, and along the underside of his muzzle.  A shiver of pure delight ran through Nathan’s body.  This was not what he was here for.  As nice as it felt, it was wrong.  He barely knew this woman.  He struggled in her grasp, pushing against her fingers.  She held him too tightly for him to get out.  The little weasel was exactly where she wanted and she was eager to show him affection.  For all of his strength, he was not a wrestler.  He could swing weapons many times larger than himself, but he could not grapple a grapefruit.
The cat moved her head back a little and licked her lips.  She let out a rolling purr.  “Oooh, I could just eat him up!”  Her voice was husky, coming out in almost a pant.  She gave Nathan another lick.  Again, he tried to force his way out, a little weaker this time.  Again, she was not about to let her little treat go.
“Ahhhh…this…this isn’t….!!!”  The poor, confused weasel was fully aroused at this point.  He wanted to get back on task, but was not able to interrupt, especially when the cat gave him a third lick, this one even slower.
“Nancy, don’t keep him to yourself!  I want a taste too!”  The ferret’s slightly pouty voice started to bring Nathan back to reality.  The cat pulled her head back.
“Sure!  The more the merrier.  I think our little friend likes it.”  The cat purred.  She held the fairy weasel up to her compatriot, showing the state he was in.  Fully aroused, his body slick with cat saliva.  And he was panting, mind hazy and reeling.  His body had betrayed him, Nancy was not wrong.
“Oooh….hehe.  Think we can get away with a little fun?”  Gloria asked.
“I don’t see why not.  We are supposed to entertain mistress’s guests.”  Nancy stated.
“Is he really one of her guests?”  Gloria asked, following her first question with another question.  Mistress?  Of course!  Don’t forget why you are here, hero.
“I’ve come for Circe Faroda….”  Nathan stated between pants.  “I….”  His words were cut off.
“So you do know her.  Wonderful!”  And with that, Nancy shoved the poor weasel between her breasts.  Nathan went quiet, ears folded against his head and body shivering.  Maybe he had a little time for fun?  The maids seemed so intent on showing him a good time, who was he to deny it to them?  He watched Gloria come closer, leaning in to kiss him.  She pressed her muzzle between the cat’s breasts to slurp her tongue over Nathan’s body.  Nathan squirmed, lost in his own lust.  That is, until she pulled back and Nathan’s eyes settled on her skirts.  The fluffy petticoats and short skirt had lifted up during their play.  Gloria was aroused too.  A tent had formed in her panties, forming a shape that did not belong on a female.
Unless, of course, that was no lady.
Nathan’s eyes shot open completely.  He unfolded his wings and shot out from Nancy’s clutches so quickly that it made Gloria stumble back on her heels, teeter, and fall on her rump.  He was not sure where the sudden surge of strength came from, but he was thankful for it.  “Ok!  That’s enough of that!”  He zipped to the other side of the room to put distance between himself and the amorous fake ladies.
“Oh, come on!”  Nancy pouted.  “We were just playing.  You’re so cute.”
“Yeah.  What’s the matter?  Don’t you like us?”  Gloria agreed.
Nathan blinked.  They seemed disappointed.  The fairy almost felt bad.  Almost.  He felt more than a little deceived.  He also felt entirely foolish for letting two strangers start ravishing him without knowing more about them.  “You’re both nice, don’t get me wrong, you’re just not my type.”  That sounded polite enough.  It escaped his notice before, but both of them were lousy with magical contamination.  A vibrant aura surrounded them both.  The magic was in their clothes, particularly their collars, but that was not all.  A variety of enchantments had been woven into their bodies.  Nathan had no doubt that these were not their natural forms.  They had to be prisoners here.  “I’m not here to….play.”  Nathan made a face.  “I’m here to free you from Circe’s grasp.  You weren’t made to be maids and won’t be made to make nice with her ever again!”  The weasel flicked his tail, slightly disappointed that he could not think of a way to fit any more variations of the word ‘maid’ into that sentence than he did.
“Free us?”  Nancy tilted her head.  “But we love serving our mistress.  She’s ever so perfect.”  An odd, faraway look flickered across the cat’s eyes.  He was looking at Nathan, but not looking at him.
“She trained us so well.”  Gloria clasped his paws in front of her ample bosom.  “I was such an icky man before.  She made me a good girl.  I couldn’t be happier!”
“…..oooookay.”  They had to be under some kind of mind control.  At least, Nathan really hoped they were.  It was a little frightening to consider that they might have been beaten down into….this.  “How long have you been here?”
Gloria and Nancy looked at each other.  It was hard to tell if they were surprised by the question.  The expressions on both of their faces was blank.  Gloria was the first to speak up.  “Well….I’ve been here longer.  It’s been…years?”
“It’s so hard to keep track.  Time flies when you’re having fun.  So many guests to entertain.  Mmmm…..”  Nancy giggled and hugged himself, lost in some private memory.  Nathan was thankful he could not read minds.
“Please don’t go into detail.  Too much information.”  Nathan held up his paws.  He knew well enough that he would get nowhere talking to these two.  “You guys get back to your….”  He glanced at a couple of washing machines against the wall, flanked by baskets of lace covered clothes.  “….laundry.”  Were those washing machines enchanted?  That would have seemed ridiculous, if not for the fact that everything in this place looked enchanted in varying degrees.
“Well….”  Nancy traced her eyes up and down Nathan’s body.  He was so small, it did not take long.  “If you aren’t in the mood for fun, we should get back to work anyway.”  Was that hunger in his eyes?  It was not entirely predatory.  It was an eagerness, a willingness to please.  He had been conditioned to entertain the sorceress’s guests.  In this state, they really were no threat to him.  “Mistress is somewhere upstairs.  I’m sure she’ll find you if you don’t find her.”  He dipped into a low curtsey, flaring his skirts out nice and wide for Nathan’s approval.
“Yes, welcome to Mistress Circe’s mansion.”  Gloria curtseyed as well.  “We should have led with that.  Please don’t tell mistress we forgot.”
“I won’t.”  Nathan was looking forward to taking this skunk down.  “You clean the clothes while I clean house.”  Nathan wagged his tail.  Before the maids could return to their washing, Nathan was already out the door.  He was heading deeper into the mansion.  There were worse dungeons.

Nathan zipped down the hallway outside of the laundry room.  The walls were plain, the floors hardwood, and the doors he passed not very ornate.  This must have been the basement.  Most likely, this was where the indentured maids were kept.  Even with the sparse décor, everything around him glowed with magical energy.  “Sparkly walls are going to be a theme, aren’t they?  Can’t even follow what glows to find her….”  The fairy grumbled.  He was only partially looking where he was going.  Inattention almost caused him to collide with yet another maid as he turned a corner.
Nathan’s timely swerve allowed him to avoid one very surprised looking rabbit.  He slowed down to get a better look at him.  The rabbit’s fur was uniformly white.  As with the cat, he could not see any areas of discoloration on him, not even a spot.  Long, blonde headfur was kept well managed, tied in a ponytail behind his head.  A maid cap rested upon his head.  His uniform was black with white lace, bringing to mind the more traditional colors for a sexy maid.  It had a very short skirt, but was slightly longer than that of the two maids he encountered previously.  The rabbit’s figure was somewhat feminine.  He was trim with big, shapely hips and long legs.  These were sheathed in fishnet stockings that ended in a pair of almost comically oversized high heels.  Rabbit feet, they had to be big.  Despite his apparent femininity, he was unmistakably male.  He lacked breasts, his chest flat and shoulders broad.  His bone structure, particularly his jawline, looked unmistakably male.  The red lipstick and black mascara on his face could not hide that.  His light blue eyes were wide and staring at the little fairy.  Nathan hovered at eye level a few yards away from him.  Fairy etiquette dictated that was the proper height to talk to someone much bigger than you.  Nathan was a little surprised too.  Better say something cool to let the bunny know you were in control of the situation.  “Hello.”  …..Close enough.
“Hi yourself, little guy.”  The bunny was a baritone.  A naturally deep voice like that was hard to make feminine.  He was trying his best, maybe a little too hard.  The odd, lilting quality and light tones he tried to take on made him sound strange.  “What’s a cute little guy like you doing here?”
Nathan looked the rabbit over a little more carefully.  He was not as altered as the other two maids he had encountered.  Maybe this one was newer?  He had the look of someone less beaten down than Gloria and Nancy.  Less magical contamination hung around him.  “Another maid….how many of you are there?”  He grumbled, more to himself than anyone else.  He cleared his throat and spoke up.  “I’m here to free you from Circe Faroda.”
“You are?”  A smile spread across the rabbit’s face.  “Finally!”  He clasped his paws together in front of his chest.  “A real hero!  I’m so very thankful you’ve come here to save us!”
Nathan smiled back.  It was a nice change from the other two maids.  “Just take me to her, and you won’t be….maid to do anything against your will ever again.”  Nathan wagged his tail.  The rabbit put a paw to his muzzle.  Was he stifling a laugh or a groan?  Better say something else.  “I’m really going to….clean house!”
It must have been a laugh.  A light giggle bubbled up from the bunny’s chest.  “Oh, I’m sure you will!  Over and over again.”  Before Nathan could say anything else, he dropped into a curtsey.  “I’m forgetting my manners.  My name is Isabelle and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m Nathan, but I can’t stay here chatting all day.  Take me to your leader, I’ll beat her, then you’ll all be freer.”  Nathan wagged his tail and stuck out his chest, doing his best to show off a heroic pose in midair.
“Hehe, of course, brave hero!  Follow me.”  Isabelle turned with a click of his heels and led Nathan on.  The fairy followed.

2)

Isabelle led Nathan through a number of winding hallways.  It was just as well he was being shown the way.  Nathan had the feeling it was easy to get turned around to the point of being badly lost here.  The hallways were decorated with an assortment of sculptures and paintings.  Many of them depicted feminine skunks in various poses or activities.  So many skunks.  It was either the sign of someone who valued their own species highly or was very vain, or even both.  Everything looked extremely clean, spotless.  Not surprising, considering the maids Nathan had seen.  Something had to occupy their time when they were not busy being oversexed.  The weasel’s anger grew.  The evil woman must force her captives to work endlessly and it was doubtful she paid overtime, if at all.  He would make her pay for this.
Needless to say, the magical auras that were present in the laundry room were present everywhere else.  Everything glowed.  She must have put all of her skill into studying how to enchant things.  That probably meant she lacked skill in other areas.  Yes, it made perfect sense.  She isolated herself so well because she was not in the business of fighting.  Leave the battles to other mages, she would focus her talents towards charms and potions.  Nathan smiled; he expected an easy fight.  If he got this done quickly enough, he could collect his unspecified reward and be home in time for supper.  There was always some kind of reward at the end of a dungeon.  He made no effort to converse any further with Isabelle.  Nathan was not great at talking to others, especially strangers.  He could belt out puns and one-liners with the best of them, but was just not interested in holding conversations.  Besides, it was unlikely someone like Isabelle knew too much about Circe.  He looked like just another magical slave; the kind Nathan had seen many times before in many different dungeons.  Isabelle was completely harmless, completely without guile.
They eventually stopped in front of a door made of ornately carved wood, probably walnut.  A relief of a skunkess playing a harp was etched onto the door.  Fittingly enough, Nathan could hear the melodious plucking of harp strings coming from the other side of the door.  Figures, she would be pretentious enough to play the harp.  His target had to be in there.  “Mistress Circe is in there.”  Isabelle stated, confirming Nathan’s assumption.
“Great.  Get somewhere safe, I’ll handle this.”  Nathan reached into his pouch to draw out one of his many weapons.  He would go with his starmetal dagger.  It’s ability to pierce through magic would be useful if she was wearing enchanted armor.  He drew it forth.  In his paws, it looked more like a longsword than a dagger.
“Didn’t know boys had pouches like that.”  Isabelle commented with a raised eyebrow.  He seemed more surprised by that than by the fact that the weasel had pulled a comparatively massive blade out of his tiny pouch.  It was a lot bigger on the inside than the outside.
“Well, I do.”  Nathan smiled, just leaving it at that.  He went for the door.  Turning the knob, he pulled.  It did not budge.  Locked.  “…..huh.”  He looked up at Isabelle.  “Got a key?”
“Hm?  Oh!”  Isabelle giggled.  “Silly me.  The doors won’t open for a someone mistress hasn’t invited.  I’ll have to let you in.”  He reached for the door, then paused.  “Sir Nathan?”
“What?”  Nathan’s whiskers twitched.  He was getting excited for combat.  Evil blood needed to be spilled.  “Is something wrong?”
“I…I think your underestimating how powerful mistress is.  Are you really just gonna rush in there, screaming and waving your little fairy sword around?”
“That’s the idea.  I’ll probably throw some spells at her too.  Keep her on her toes.”  Nathan grinned.  “It’ll be great.”
“I see.”  Isabelle smiled even wider than he had before.  “Just be careful.  I’d hate for something bad to happen to such a cute little guy.  Kiss for luck?”  Isabelle held a paw out for Nathan to alight upon.
“…..well….”  Nathan sighed.  It was tough being this adorable.  A little kiss from a guy would not be too terrible.  From what he had seen, the maids here had a pretty rough life.  If enduring a kiss could bring a little happiness to the poor bunny maid, he would allow it.  “Fine.  A small one.”  Nathan fluttered into the bunny’s paw.
“Thank you, hero.”  Isabelle brought his paw up to his muzzle level.  His other paw looped around behind Nathan’s back.  He leaned in and closed his eyes.  Big bunny lips pushed around Nathan’s narrow muzzle.  Nathan closed his eyes and tried to think distracting thoughts.  The kiss was not too terrible.  Isabelle did not overdo it.  His free paw gently stroked the fairy’s back.  It would have almost seemed romantic, but there was something wet on Isabelle’s gloves.  It left a sticky residue in his fur.  The bunny must have been cleaning something before he ran into Nathan.  After a mere five seconds, the bunny pulled his muzzle back.  Nathan quickly went to work wiping the red lipstick off of his muzzle.  He also suppressed the urge to shudder in revulsion.
“I feel luckier already.”  Nathan lied.  He had a sickly feeling in his stomach.  It was probably just the kiss mixing with the fact that he had been molested by two male maids earlier.  Not his idea of a good time.  “Just don’t go reading into that.  I’m not into guys.”
“I know, that’s what makes it fun.”  Isabelle giggled and swung open the door.  “Good luck!”  He flicked his paw, practically tossing Nathan into the room.  The fairy looped in the air, swished out his wings, and recovered into an elegant glide.  A little more abrupt than he would have liked, but he could not fault Isabelle’s enthusiasm.
The room itself was a music room, as was obvious by the dulcet tones emanating through the door.  Fancy, high class instruments occupied various points in the room.  Nathan recognized a piano and a harpsichord.  Despite the floor being hardwood, Nathan saw no scuffs on it.  Then again, he was not really studying the room, just giving it a once over for threat assessment purposes.  The threat was in the center of the room.
Sitting on a wooden stool with a thick, red cushion was his target.  Circe Faroda, the skunk herself.  The way Nathan was wired, the first thing he noticed about her was her appearance.  Even sitting down, he could tell she was tall.  Her figure was shapely, ample bust and hips with a trim midsection.  Well-groomed fur of black and white coated her body with coloration typical of her species.  As with most fancy sorceresses, her headfur color was atypical.  It was violet, neatly brushed and pinned behind her head in a bun.  Amethyst colored irises adorned her eyes.  They almost matched her hair, perhaps being a bit lighter.  They glowed ever so slightly, despite her being at rest.  Possibly a worrisome sign, it meant her body was full of magical energy.  She dressed like an elegant lady.  A form fitting evening gown made of red silk looked almost as if it had been painted on her body.  It fit her perfectly.  There was no way it was naturally tailored.  She looked, more or less, like Nathan imagined her.  Her clothing was the only thing different.  He was expecting a fancy robe.  Maybe even an old styled dress, like a queen would wear.  What she had on looked like it was made for an upscale cocktail party, all the way down to her sensible high heels.  A large harp sat before her made out of carved mahogany.  It looked expensive.  Nathan was looking forward to smashing it during their inevitable fight.  Circe looked at him when he came in as she ran her well-manicured, red fingernails gently over the strings.  Still practicing even when the instrument of her downfall flew in the room.  “Good afternoon.  I- “
She did not have time to finish her sentence, Nathan was not having any of her honeyed words.  A villain who surrounded herself in this much opulence was a talker.  He was not about to give her a chance to use her charismatic wiles.  Emitting the most raucous war cry he could, Nathan raised his sword and lunged.  He flapped his wings as hard as he could to propel himself forward.  She was sitting, she was occupied.  Maybe he could slice her throat in a single blow?  As he closed the distance, Circe made no effort to move out of the way.  She just smiled and ran her fingers along the harp in a single, sharp motion.  It produced a very strong, very loud chord.  It was no ordinary sound.  It erupted from the harp as a wall of magical force.  Nathan’s magical sight allowed him to see it coming.  While he was small, quick, and wily enough to dodge most things, a massive wall like that was not something he could swerve away from.  He had to counter it.  He brought up a free paw to throw forth a counter spell.  “Blueberrier!”  A yell to conjure forth the required spell.  He fully expected to feel the magical energy surge through him.  He anticipated the blueberry flavored shield to sunder this spell so he could continue his charge.
But, nothing happened.
Nathan’s eyes went wide at the unplanned spell failure just as the wall of sound collided with his body.  The impact was like charging headlong into a speeding truck.  Nathan let out a breath in a wheeze as the concussive blast knocked the air from his lungs.  He was thrown back with such force that he left a dent in the wall.  The blade he held so expertly was jarred from his paws.  It clattered across the floor in one direction, he spiraled in the other.  He hit the floor and bounced twice before coming to rest.  “….Ow.  Quit it!”  Nathan was on his feet again.
“Interrupting a lady is very rude.”  Circe rose from her seat, a bemused smirk on her muzzle.  “Shall we introduce ourselves again, or would you rather just fight?”
“I’ll introduce you!”  Nathan raised a fist.  “To sour shock!”  He said the magic words, gesturing at Circe with his right paw.  He tried to coalesce his magical energy into a cloud of sour candies to fling them at the offending sorceress.  A cloud of exploding, electrical sour candies.
But, nothing happened.
Nathan blinked several times.  No power surge, no conjured sweets, no damage to the enemy.  Nothing.  “….huh.”
Circe chuckled.  She had not looked worried once this fight.  It was getting irritating.  “Was something supposed to happen?  A little advice, tiny hero.  Practice your magic thoroughly before you fight an exceedingly powerful sorceress.”
Nathan’s eyes narrowed.  What was wrong with his magic?  Why was he unable to cast?  He looked at his paws.  They looked normal.  “What sort of evil crap is this?”
“Evil?”  Circe scoffed.  “I’m more of a moral centrist, really.  Don’t be a fool.”  She walked closer to Nathan, practically gliding across the floor.  Her hips swayed and tail swished when she did.  A practiced way of walking, regal and seductive.  Nathan was too worried to get distracted.  “And if you haven’t figured out what happened by now, why should I tell you?  Just know everyone in this mansion belongs to me.  Take care who you trust.”  
Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw Isabelle.  The bunny was standing far off.  He was holding Nathan’s starmetal dagger, admiring it.  He noticed the fairy’s staring.  “What?”  He was doing his best to feign an innocent smile.
“You bastard….”  Nathan’s eyes blazed.  “You’re not her victim at all!”
“Nope!  I’m the head maid.”  Isabelle proudly replied.  “I’ve been with Mistress Circe forever.  I’d never dream of serving anyone else.”  He looked at Circe with an expression of love.  It was the same expression a starstruck teen would give their idol.  “I’m loyal to no one but her.”
Nathan grimaced.  “You did something to me when you kissed me, didn’t you?”
Circe raised an eyebrow.  She turned her attention toward Isabelle.  “You’ve been flirting with someone who came to kill me?  You truly have no shame.”  Her confident smirk did not waver.
“Well, it worked.”  Isabelle’s ears, which had been perked and alert since Nathan first saw him, folded back.  “Gave me a great chance to put some of that anti-magic salve on him.  Just like you told me.”  He looked to Circe for approval.  She just nodded.  “He was a bad kisser anyway.”  Isabelle added with a wry smile.
The wet sensation on Nathan’s back.  That was what it was!  A vile unguent applied to his body that somehow blocked his magic.  The fight was not over yet.  He was still armed.  He just had to strategize, be as cunning as possible.  His right paw drifted into his pouch.  How dare they nerf his magic!  The fur along Nathan’s back frizzed up, hackles raising.  His tail stuck straight out, muscles stiff and ready to pounce.  His pointed, weasel face turned into a snarl.  “Yeah….well I don’t give a Rat’s Axe!”  He screamed.  From his pouch he produced a massive labrys.  It was even bigger than he was.  Raising it above his head, he bellowed a war cry and streaked toward Isabelle.  Take out the weaker target first.  Maybe, just maybe, this magical salve blocked magic that was used against him?  Something that nullified his spellcasting without being a ‘silence’ effect had to work that way, right?
Isabelle was clever in several ways.  He did not have the foresight to predict a fairy would rush him.  Especially a fairy swinging an axe several times his size.  “Axe!”  Isabelle shouted, raising the dagger and dropping into a fighting stance.  While Nathan did expect him to know how to fight, he knew he could outfight a bunny maid wearing high heels.  Raising his axe above his head, he prepared to clash with Isabelle.  
Nathan’s attack halted mid swing.   Red, shimmering chains of light encircled him.  One appeared on each wrist, one on each ankle.  They quickly came together.  His ankles were bound together, his arms pulled down to his sides.  His axe sailed out of his hands.  Isabelle sidestepped it just in time for it to sail by him and embed itself in the nearest wall.  More magical chains coiled around his mustelid body.  They wrapped around his waist, his chest, his shoulders and legs.  Everything was bound together, fur vanishing beneath glowing, red links.  His tail was strapped to his back so he could not wag it, even if he wanted to.  Even his wings were bound.  Without a means to fly, he braced himself for a fall.  It did not happen.  The chains held him aloft.  Nathan’s eyes darted around, surprised by his abrupt lack of forward momentum.  He thrashed in his bonds.  Muscles strained to break the chains.  Being made of pure mana, they did not give.  His paws bound uselessly at his sides, he was unable to even attempt to disenchant them.  That is, if his magic had not already been blocked.  “….shit.”  Was all he could say as his ears folded against his skull.  Nathan was turned around to face the grinning skunkess.  She raised a paw and curled her finger to beckon Nathan near.  The fairy floated closer to her.  It was like he was a damsel in distress, tied to a conveyor belt on the way to a death machine.  The energy from the magical chains made his fur stand on end, but that was not the only reason.  Nathan was trying his best not to be afraid, but he was anyway.  He was used to facing down danger.  When facing most of his foes, he knew what they would do to him if they caught him.  A pummeling, attempted murder, even eating him.  Circe was different.  She was an unknown.  All he had heard were rumors, none of them good.  As he got closer, he straightened up and put on a brave face.  Heroic defiance was written on his features.  Yes, bring it on, trouble!  He could take it!  “What, you have to nerf my magic to fight me?  Afraid to face me at full strength?  Coward!  Screw you, you big cheater!”  If he provoked her, maybe she would let him up for another attack?
“Hm….”  Circe looked thoughtful.  Villains were not immune to hubris, especially the powerful ones.  For just a moment, it looked like she was considering it.  She chuckled.  “Ridiculous little fairy.  You misunderstand the reason I blocked your magic.  I’d rather not have a novice mage clumsily flinging spells about my home.”  She looked past Nathan to the spot where his axe stuck in the wall.  “You’ve already damaged my wall with your wild, uncontrolled swings.”  She caused Nathan to turn so he could get a better look at the wall.  The Rat’s Axe, sharp and heavy, had struck it with enough force to cause a split to form in the sheet rock.  Chipped paint and dust lay in a neat little pile underneath.
“Oh, so sorry I hurt your precious, precious wall.”  Nathan rolled his eyes.  “Wasn’t on purpose.  I was aiming at your maid’s skull.  Next time, I won’t miss.”  He gave Isabelle a dirty look.  The bunny responded by blowing him a kiss and mouthing the word ‘scary’.  He could afford to be smug.  In the state Nathan was in, he was no threat to him.
“I wouldn’t threaten my Isabelle, if I were you.  You two will be getting quite intimate in the future, so stay on his good side.”  Circe stated.
“…What?”  Nathan blinked.  “I’ll threaten whoever I want!”
“If you like.  Just know there will be consequences in the future.  I’ll let it go this time.”  Circe’s tone dripped with flippant condescension.  “I could crush you like a tiny insect, you know.  It wouldn’t take much effort.  Would be heroes like you are so very common.  Running about like madmen, you destroy everything you can’t understand.”  Nathan opened his mouth to speak, but Circe put a single finger to the tip of his muzzle.  “Shhh.  I’m still talking.  Don’t interrupt, I’m not interested in your sardonic quips.”  He closed it.  Let the villain monologue.  “As I was saying, it would be easy to kill you, but very unsatisfying.  I have a different purpose in mind for you.  I believe I have an opening for another maid.”
Nathan’s eyes went wide.  There was no room for misinterpretation, her intentions were very clear.  He looked at Isabelle.  The bunny was gazing at him with hungry, predatory eyes.  No doubt he was already playing through the possibilities in his head.  He thought of Gloria and Nancy, two maids who displayed Circe’s handiwork.  They were his future, the future Circe wanted for him.  Empty headed, subservient, oversexed bimbos with twisted bodies.  She aimed to make him her slave.  He did not have to think too hard about everything that entailed.  Icy fingers of fear wound their way around his spine.  His body stiffened with the thought of what was to come.  Fear never stuck around long.  He was still a hero.  Fear gave way to anger.  His entire body grew hot, quivering with rage.  “NO!”  A violent scream, much larger than a tiny weasel should be able to make, echoed in the room.  Nathan thrashed in his chains.  Flailing wildly, wings spasming, doing everything he could to break the magical bonds through sheer effort.  “I’ll never serve you!  You psychotic bitch!  You’ll never make me anything like them!  I’ll fight!  I’ll tear this place apart!  I’ll destroy everything you’ve ever loved!  The black wind howls!”  The candy fairy was practically vibrating with rage.  All he could do was vibrate, the chains did not budge.
Circe shook her head.  Raising her paw, a collar appeared in it.  A lace trimmed, silk collar with a heart shaped clasp.  It was just like those on Gloria and Nancy, but colored high saturation blue.  Circe smirked.  “Before you ask, yes, it changes size with you.”  It shrank as soon as Circe spoke the words.  Now, it was the perfect size for Nathan’s neck.
“No, no no no.  Get that away from me!  You’re not going to put that on me!  I won’t let you!”  Nathan screamed.  He tried to lean back, tried to fight it, but the chains did not give.  Instead, he floated closer toward Circe.  She opened the collar and moved the paw near him.  She was taking her time, making the moment last.  “No!  Stop!  Stop!”  Nathan did not know exactly what would happen when he was collared, but he did not want it.  No matter how much he moved his head, he was not wily enough to keep her from wrapping the collar around his neck and shutting the clasp.  The fit was extremely snug.  Nathan felt it pressing all the way around his neck.  It was soft, not entirely uncomfortable, but he knew it was there.  He wanted more than anything to try and yank it off.  It looked as though he might get his chance.  As soon as the collar was in place, the mana chains holding him dissipated.  Gravity took hold and Nathan fell to the floor.  His focus on the collar was so complete he barely felt the impact.  Immediately, he took hold of the collar with both paws.  Pulling, tugging, straining, clawing, he desperately tried to get it off.  “Getitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff!!!!”  Shrieking, his skin under his fur was soon raw from scrabbling fingernails.  No matter what he did, the collar did not stretch, did not tear, did not budge.
Circe was watching all the while with a bemused smirk.  Isabelle’s paws were on his knees to support him while he leaned over, enjoying the show.  “Think he’s gonna keep doing that all day?”  Isabelle asked.
“No.  He’ll stop soon enough.  I’ll stop him if he tries to hurt himself…….. or if watching him gets boring.”  Circe answered.  She looked back down at Nathan.  “That’s not going to come off, by the way.  You’re being very silly right now.”
“Getit….off….off….”  Nathan was panting.  Flailing away at the collar was not going to do him any good.  He had only made himself tired.  The only way he could get it off was to remove his neck and that was not going to happen.  For now, it was stuck, but he did not have to like it.  He sat up and glared daggers at Circe.  “Release me at once!  You’re making a mistake holding me here.  I have people that will come for me!”
“And I’ll deal with them severely when they do, in the extremely unlikely event they find my home.”  Circe replied with a dismissive wave of her paw.  Not a whisper of worry about her.  “I may as well introduce myself.  My name is Circe Faroda.  You may refer to me as Mistress Circe.  What’s your name, little fairy?  Tell the truth and don’t be coy.  I’ll know if you’re lying.”
Nathan briefly considered telling her to go jump in a lake.  What was the harm of telling her his name?  He wanted her to remember it when she lay dying at his feet.  “Nathan Garrison.”
“Thank you.”  As Circe thanked him, Nathan’s collar glowed red for a couple of seconds.  It made his fur tingle.  For a moment, he was afraid it would catch fire or explode.  No such sensations were forthcoming.
“Is that it?”  Nathan looked up at her, confused.
“It is.”  Circe put a paw to her chin.  “Although, that’s an exceedingly poor name for a maid.  You look more like a Natalie to me.  Yes, Natalie it is.  What do you think, Isabelle?”
“I love it, mistress!”  Isabelle gushed.  He clasped his paws together in front of him and wiggled his puff tail.  “Perfect for a sweet little fairy maid!  It really suits him and I think the other girls’ll agree!”
“What?!”  Nathan shot to his feet, indignant.  “I’m not Natalie!  My name’s Nathan….!!!!”  No sooner did the word ‘Nathan’ leave his mouth that his collar cinched up tight.  It seemed to shrink three sizes, immediately impairing his ability to breathe.  His eyes went wide as he fought to take in a breath.  The air could not be forced through.  In vain, he tried to pull the collar open, to stretch it enough that his thirsty lungs could gulp in clean air.  He may as well have been trying to pull apart a steel band.  His head swam and he flopped back on the ground.  Black streaks danced across his vision as the edges started to dim.  He would be turning blue, if that were not his natural color.  He looked up at Circe for help.  She had been watching him the entire time.  No concern was in her expression, just a resting smirk as she rubbed her chin and watched him squirm.  Seriously?  Was she really going to kill him like this after making such a big show of capturing him?  Seconds before he lost consciousness, the collar expanded back to its normal size.  His body, knowing his airway was open again, reflexively took in the biggest breath it could.  He took it in in a long gasp and let the breath out in a series of coughs.  Another deep breath in, another few coughs out.  While his body tried to recover, he curled up into a ball on his right side.  His tail and wings wrapped themselves around his body, as if trying to protect him.  A minute passed, then another.  Nathan finally felt well enough to uncurl his body.  Shakily, he rose to his feet on wobbly legs.  Fear of suffocation was replaced by anger.  Teeth bared, he looked up at Circe.  “What was THAT?”
“The consequence of you using the wrong name, or getting someone else to use the wrong name to call you.  You’ll need to choose your words very carefully.”  Circe stated.  “Nathan is gone.  He tried to overcome someone much better than him and failed.  Miserably.  Now there is only Natalie, the maid in training.  One of the girls, eager to serve his mistress.”
“….You’ve got to be kidding.”  Nathan slumped his entire body in frustration.  “I’m not a maid.  If I have to serve you, can’t I be anything else?  I make a good cook, even better confectioner.”  His voice got louder and louder with each sentence, driving the point home.  “I am a candy fairy, after all.  I’d even take being a janitor.  I don’t want to be a maid!  I don’t want to be…..that!”  He swung a paw and pointed at Isabelle.  Isabelle responded by winking and rustling his skirts.
“I only employ maids.”  Circe replied, bringing the attention back to her.  “But, do not worry, Natalie….”  She pronounced Natalie carefully, emphasizing each syllable.  “…Your duties will be so varied you’ll never be bored.  You’ll learn to love serving and be just as happy as the other maids.  I’ll supply you with everything you could ever want, even wonderful company and a greater sense of purpose than you ever had as a roaming hero.”
“Yeah…serving you.  Doing whatever you tell me to.  Some life!  A life where I have no life is no life at all!”  Nathan countered.
“You can’t hate something you’ve never tried.  I think you were born to serve me.  It will take some time and training, but I’m certain Isabelle’s up for it.”  She looked to her bunny maid.
Taking it as his cue to speak, he perked up.  “Oh yes, mistress.  I’ll work extra hard to make him a good little maid.  I can hardly wait to start…..training him.”  Isabelle purred the last two words out.  The way he smiled, the way he said them, gave Nathan a strange, foreboding feeling.
“Hah!  I’m sure you will.”  Circe put a paw to her muzzle to suppress a laugh.  Nathan felt as though he were missing out on an inside joke.  “Although….he’s not much good to either of us, as small as he is.”
“Hey, I’m short for my height.”  The candy fairy retorted.  “I…”
“Yes, yes.  I’m sure that there are many people who appreciate your size.”  Circe waved a paw.  “I already know you can change size.  I had your entire nature figured out with just one look.”  She rubbed her chin.  “And what a complicated one it is…..a mix of so many things.  Fairy, weasel, mouse, bat, even a little dragon for good measure.  Is this even your natural form?  I imagine it has changed several times in the past.”
“Am I too complicated for you to figure out?”  Nathan chuckled.  “Sorry, I don’t come with instructions.”  Any degree of frustration she had with Nathan he would gladly accept.
“Not at all, little Natalie.  I really should do something about your diminutive stature.  You’re so very malleable, it will be an easy change.”  Circe waved a paw, causing Nathan’s collar to glow again.  Before he could raise his voice to protest, he felt a warm tingle in the core of his body.  It started in his belly and rapidly grew to fill his chest.  The warm, pins-and-needles sensation spread through his arms and legs to his fingers and toes.  It crept along his tail to the very tip.  It felt strange, very unpleasant.  He had the sensation that she was reaching inside of him.  He felt her paws as though they were on the inside of his body, making it feel strangely heavy and full.  Then, the stretching began.  It was as if all of those internal paws started pushing outward simultaneously, triggering his body to change.
“What are you….stop!”  Nathan yelped as his eyes went wide.  His body strained, limbs stretching and growing.  They became unnaturally long, filling out before the rest of his body.  The fairy winced at the distorted image they cast before the rest of him grew to match it.  His back strained and popped as his vertebrae grew, lengthening and widening to proportionately match his new arms and legs.  Before it reached its full size, his tail spasmed.  It shot out, growing another few feet in seconds.  A tiny head sat upon a fully grown body, it was the next to change.  His vision blurred as it expanded, feeling as if his head was splitting apart.  Circe said something, but he could not hear it over the roaring ringing in his ears.  It felt as though someone had put his head inside of an alarm siren.  He fell over backward, putting his paws to his ears.  He barely even noticed when his wings stretched out underneath of him, growing to a proper size to keep someone of his girth aloft.  The sensations ceased abruptly; the fairy’s body fully changed.  Nathan went limp on the ground, panting as if he had just run up several flights of stairs.  The madwoman triggered his change.  Her magic twisted him, forcing him to take on a form contrary to his wishes.  He felt violated.
	No one spoke.  Circe and Isabelle just watched their newest maid, waiting for him to say something.  Or, at the very least, to move.  Minutes passed before Nathan sat up.  He looked himself over, wondering if she altered him any further.  He was still a weasel, all of his parts were accounted for.  He looked more like a proper anthro, proportioned as such, but this was a form he had been in at least once before.  His pouch was still there, and he put a paw down to his crotch.  Masculinity was whole too, if not more prominent due to his changed fur distribution.  Nothing new, no new growths or anything of the sort.  He reached up and felt around his head to make sure he had not grown a set of horns or something equally ridiculous.  The collar was still on.  She was right about it changing size with him.  Finally, he looked at Circe and spoke.  “You left me a weasel?  And male?”  He was most surprised he was not sporting a gigantic set of breasts, at the very least.
	“I prefer to weave my spells into you slowly.  It gives more of a sense of permanence.  You’re my maid for life, after all, and good magic takes time.”  She gave Nathan a smile that bordered on loving.  “Before you know it, you’ll be as pretty as the other girls.  A vision of beauty for my guests and myself.  I’m very excited to see what other changes might manifest as I weave my spells into you.”
	“I’m not going to stay for life.  You’ve got another thing coming if you think you can keep me here.”  The weasel tried to get to his feet, but his legs felt like rubber.  He slipped and fell back on his rump.  Isabelle giggled when he saw it.
	“Isabelle, don’t laugh at the poor little girl.  Help him up and take him to get into uniform.  He can’t just run around naked, it’s not proper.”  Circe commanded.  Isabelle was quick to obey.  He clicked over to Nathan, bent down, and offered him a paw.  Nathan felt like biting it.  Instead, he grabbed ahold of it and tried to yank the bunny over.  It might have been that Nathan was still weak from his unwanted size change or that Isabelle was a lot stronger than he looked, but he could not pull him down.  Instead, the bunny pulled the oversized fairy to his feet.  Nathan’s knees nearly buckled, but he managed to right himself.
	“Easy there, Natalie.  Don’t want you to fall down and get all bruised.  You’re too cute for that.”  Isabelle teased.  He playfully groped Nathan’s rear.  He tried to push him away, but only managed to sway on his feet.  Why did he feel so weak?  He should have been able to heave Isabelle across the room with only a modicum of effort.
	“There we are.  Take good care of him, Isabelle.  He’ll begin his duties tomorrow.”  Circe turned to go back to her harp practice.  She paused.  “Oh, and make sure he bathes.  He smells of cat saliva and still has that herbal paste on his back.  You can use the guest fur cleanser until I make some more attuned to his unique form.”  She chuckled.  “Some hero….flirting with the evil sorceress’s maids before slaying her?  Not the most noble of actions.  You belong here.”  Nathan’s ears lowered.  She was evil, no matter how she referred to herself otherwise, but she was still right.  Never let your libido get in the way of your purpose.  Before he could ruminate on it, Isabelle took him by the paw.
	“C’mon Natalie, let’s get you to your room.  You can play more with the other maids later.”  He gave Nathan’s paw a tug.  There was no room to protest.  The bunny led and he followed.

3)

	Isabelle took Nathan back to the basement.  He half expected a guided tour of the entire manor.  Being paraded around naked through the entire prison-mansion was an indignity he would expect from someone like Circe.  Instead, Isabelle went through a couple of major house rules Nathan would need to observe, or else be punished.  The primary two were to never be out of his room out of uniform and to always behave in a ladylike manner.  That meant his full uniform, which Isabelle spoke of with an unsettling degree of glee.  This also meant no fighting, no cursing, no being rude, and doing everything Mistress Circe asked of him.  Nathan asked the bunny to elaborate, but his only responses were different variations of “You’ll see, be patient!”.
	The servant’s quarters were pretty much right where Nathan anticipated they would be.  In the basement, out of the way, it was the perfect place for an egotistical, powerful woman like Circe to keep ‘the help’.  His room was the second door on the left.  Upon entering, he half expected uncomfortable cots, spartan furnishings, and dank, moldy walls made of cobblestone.  The sort of thing that one would expect in a traditional dungeon.  Instead, it was downright cozy.  Soft beds with wooden frames, nicely made furniture, a full vanity mirror, it even had a big closet and its own bathroom.  In another setting, Nathan would have considered it comfortable, like a room at an upscale inn.  Here, it was little more than a fancy prison cell.  Judging by the second bed, a fancy prison cell he would have to share with an oversexed maid.  Before he could take time to take in his new quarters, Isabelle shoved a bottle of fur wash into his paws.  Putting his paws on the weasel’s backside, he pushed him toward the bathroom.  “Hurry up and wash, Natalie.  I gotta show you how to put on your uniform.”  Isabelle said.
	“I’m going!  Stop touching my ass!”  Nathan snapped before his collar cinched up.  Again, he could not breath.  Really?  Circe considered the word ‘ass’ a swear?!  He was really going to have to watch his language.  After another minute of writhing on the ground, gasping for air, the collar went slack and Nathan could breathe again.
	Isabelle waited for Nathan to roll onto his back.  Then, just to prove a point, he leaned down and cupped his paw over Nathan’s sheath and balls.  Nathan, too weak from nearly being suffocated to fight back, could do little more than stiffen his entire body up in horror.  Isabelle started to rub him.  “Hehe….watch your mouth, Natalie.  Noooo cursing, remember?”  The white furred bunny giggled as he caressed the poor weasel’s private parts.  Nathan squeezed his eyes shut and tried to picture himself somewhere else.  “I’d give you something to fill your mouth with right now….mmmm….”  He purred.  “But…Mistress says I gotta wait a week…..no sex for the new girls till then.”  Nathan’s body, betraying him from the rabbit’s expert touch, had grown aroused.  Stimulation did that to a guy, regardless of the source.  “Oooh, what’s this?”  He gave Nathan a squeeze, making him gasp.  “I see someone’s eager for it too!”  Abruptly, he let go.  Nathan quickly slapped his paws over his male parts and sat up.  He scooted against the wall to put as much distance between himself and Isabelle.
	Nathan’s lips peeled into a snarl.  “Don’t touch me!  Nothing gives you that right!  I’ll….”  Nathan tried to think up a threat.  A realistic threat.  “I’ll….knock you all down!”
	Isabelle clapped a paw over his muzzle.  Maybe Nathan’s threat worked?  He almost looked horrified.  Mad giggling bubbled out around his paw.  He was just trying hard not to laugh uproariously at him.  Laughing with the mouth wide open enough to show one’s teeth was considered gauche.  Nathan’s ears lowered, knowing that he could do nothing to intimidate the rabbit.  After a few seconds of giggles, Isabelle composed himself.  A wide smile on his face, he addressed Nathan.  “Silly, silly girl.  You belong to us now.  We can use you however we like.  And, you know the best part?”  Isabelle clasped his paws together and leaned forward.  “You’re going to learn to enjoy it.  After a while, you’ll find out just how much fun it is to live to please us.”
	“Ffff….”  No cursing, Nathan!  Getting choked out three times in the span of a half hour would have been excessive.  “I’m going to tell you right now, you’ll never break me.”
	“Weeeee’ll seeeee.”  Isabelle sing-songed.  “Now go clean up.  We’re wasting time.  Still gotta get you in your pretty new clothes.  I have the perfect look ready for you!  Let me…”  Isabelle reached down to help Nathan up, but he shifted away from his touch.
	“Don’t touch me.  I’m getting up.”  Nathan picked up the fur wash and gathered himself to his feet.  He practically teleported into the bathroom to avoid Isabelle’s busy paws.

	Nathan took his time showering.  The fur shampoo he was given had a gentle, fresh scent to it.  It smelled exactly how Nathan would think the word ‘clean’ would smell.  There was another bottle of fur shampoo in the shower.  It was peach colored with an image of a shapely female housecat silhouetted on the bottle.  It must have belonged to his roommate.  A housecat printed on the bottle, Nathan already had an idea of who he might be.  He took great care to clean all of the anti-magic paste out of his fur.  It was a long shot, but maybe he could still cast some basic spells without its influence?  After drying off, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.  Focus.  He started to channel his energy and spoke the magic words.  “Grape escape!”  Fairy magic flowed through him.  His fur tingled.  Then, abruptly, it felt as though he ran into a wall.  His ears started to ring and his head was encircled with an intense pressure.  It was like someone had closed their jaws around his temples and was grinding their teeth down into his skull.  A white-hot sensation spread through his entire body.  Nathan was well versed enough to know magical feedback.  He immediately stopped casting to avoid the horrific, debilitating pain that would surely come next.  The magic was halted and drew back into Nathan’s body.  With it, the pain abated.  The only remnant of it was a sickening, nauseous feeling in the pit of Nathan’s stomach and blurred vision that would slowly come back into focus.  Even out of focus, he could see the collar around his neck.  He could not take it off, even to shower.  It may as well be part of his body at this point.  He stared at it and closed his eyes.  Wishing as hard as he could, he hoped to make it disappear.  When he opened his eyes back up, it was still there.  He tried.  “What’s taking so long?  Do I have to come and get you?”  Isabelle was calling for him.  Nathan looked at the door.  It was shut, but there was no lock on it.  If the bunny wanted in, he could easily get in.  “….Unless you want me to join you in the shower?  I can do that.”  A giggle sounded beyond the door.
	Nathan sneered in disgust.  “Don’t!  Everything’s fine in here.  I’m coming out.”  It was time to face the bunny, get his uniform.  This day just kept getting worse.

	A pile of blue and white frills was waiting for Nathan when he exited the bathroom.  It lay neatly folded on what was to be his bed.  In the time it took for Nathan to shower, Isabelle had been busy picking it out.  He even had time to change the quilt on his bed to match his outfit.  Everything in this mansion was color coded.  Nathan stared at the pile for about a minute.  He had absolutely no experience dressing up like a maid.  All those straps and frills and layers and cups were confusing to someone who rarely wore clothes of any kind.  Luckily, Isabelle stayed behind to help.  It was a task he enjoyed a little too much.  Nathan had to fight to keep from recoiling at his touch.  Every time he smoothed down a layer or tucked something sent a shudder of revulsion up Nathan’s spine.  The corset was the worst part.  When the bunny pulled those laces taut, Nathan almost expected to break in half.  He had to carefully regulate his breathing to keep from passing out.  The dressing ordeal took about fifteen minutes.  During that time, Isabelle went over some more basic house rules.  Meal times, hours of duty, the duties themselves, that sort of thing.  He emphasized obedience.  “Do everything Mistress and I say and there won’t be any trouble.”  He advised.  The outfit itself consisted of blue silk with white lace and ribbon.  Blue as in extremely blue.  A bright sort of blue that one thought of when picturing the color ‘blue’ in its purest form.  His fishnet stockings were blue, as was his garter belt.  His garters were rather fancy, having layered lace trim.  Each of them had a small bow on the side to further draw attention to Nathan’s legs.  His skirt was far too short.  It hung down to just above mid-thigh level.  When Isabelle had him put on the big, voluminous petticoat that went with it, it barely covered his crotch.  Without a hole in the skirt for his tail, he felt like it was always in danger of flipping up whenever he lifted or wagged it.  This was made even worse by the panties Isabelle selected for him.  They were made of blue, sheer fabric, with frilly lace ruffles in a heart shape over his butt.  The only thing worse than uncomfortable clothing was clothing designed to be as humiliating and revealing as possible.  They drew the eye, giving candid glimpses of his private parts.  It was far less modest than being naked, which Nathan was used to.  Being a fuzzy little candy fairy, he had enough fur around his bits to hide anything naughty from view.  These garments provoked lust.  This outfit was fit for a whore.  He had been made to empty all of the weapons from his pouch before getting dressed, not that he could have reached it through his uniform.  At least his apron had two pockets, even if they were decorated with a frilly blue heart over them.  They were more ornamental than functional, but it was something.  High heels adorned his feet.  Nathan never wore shoes.  Extremely uncomfortable ones with three-inch heels, designed to make him lift his butt and wiggle his hips when he walked, were not the shoes to start with.  Just standing there was an exercise in maintaining his balance.  Elbow length gloves made of white silk made the look complete.  “I look ridiculous.”  Nathan’s tone was completely flat.  He glared at his reflection, as if he could will it away.  It only lasted a few seconds before he had to look away.
	“Natalie….don’t say stuff like that.”  Isabelle put a paw on Nathan’s shoulder.  “You look adorable!  It’s like you were made to wear this uniform.”  The bunny smiled while Nathan felt a sick, sinking feeling in his stomach.  Not what he wanted to hear.  “And you’ll just get hotter…..”  Isabelle slipped behind Nathan.  “….and hotter…”  He started to run his paws up the weasel’s sides.  “….and hotter….the more your body changes.”  He cupped his paws over Nathan’s pectorals.  Nathan had to fight to keep himself from shoving the rabbit away.  “Especially when your breasts come in.”  He gave Nathan’s nipples a squeeze, causing him to grimace.  “Mmmm…..wonder how big they’ll get?”  
Nathan had almost forgotten about that.  He was going to grow breasts.  Large ones, judging by the other maids.  The top of his uniform was so low cut, his corset so tight and…..lifting.  Dismay filled his thoughts as he realized that this outfit was made to show them off.  The saddest part was that he would absolutely adore seeing this outfit on a sexy cat or mink girl.  He would have fallen over himself to be ‘served’ by such a woman.  The uniform of a sex object, wrapped around his body.  And a horny guy was all over him.  Isabelle was still touching him.  He snarled.  “Don’t you get tired of groping people?  I’m not into guys!  I don’t want you!”  Nathan writhed in Isabelle’s grasp, badly wanting him to let go.
“Nope!”  Isabelle replied with a giggle.  He let Nathan go anyway.  The weasel took a few steps to his left to put some distance between Isabelle and himself.  “And not into guys?  What a silly thing to say…I’m going to make sure that changes.  Don’t you worry…it’ll be fun….”  The bunny purred, a dark grin on his face.  “One week….I can hold out till then.”  That sounded ominous.  Isabelle’s expression lightened almost immediately.  “Now sit down at the vanity.  Next is your makeup.”
	“Makeup too?  Do I need to be made up?  I already exist!”  Nathan wagged his tail a little, but stopped when he realized it was rustling his petticoats.  He quickly hung his tail down until the tip brushed the floor.
	The quip was lost on Isabelle at first.  He looked confused, lips together with one eyebrow raised.  His eyes widened when it finally sunk in.  A short, musical laugh came from his muzzle, the kind one used when they hear a particularly droll joke.  Or a dad joke.  “You goofball!  Stop being silly and sit down.”  Trying not to smile, Nathan sat down, crushing his petticoats.  Isabelle responded by taking two fingers and playfully bopping him on the nose.  “No, no, no!  Not like that!  Fluff your skirts out so you don’t sit on them.”  Isabelle rolled his eyes.  “C’mon….it’s like you never wore a skirt before.”
	Nathan glowered at the bunny, but did as he was told.  He stood up, billowed out the skirt layers, and sat back down.  It was a little more comfortable, but the chair was a little chilly with nothing protecting his rump but a flimsy pair of panties.  “Just don’t use too much.”  Nathan commented.  “I don’t want to look like a clown.”
	“Excuse me?”  Isabelle put a paw to his chest, as if wounded.  “I know what I’m doing.  Just gonna accent your best features.  You’re gonna look so sexy when I’m done….”  Isabelle grinned at the unsettled weasel.  He held still while the rabbit worked on his face.  Red lipstick would not have gone well with Nathan’s fur.  After mulling over a few different shades, Isabelle settled on a rich, glossy blue.  It was, perhaps, just a shade darker than Nathan’s outfit.  He paired this with some glittery, silver eyeshadow.  After teasing Nathan about having girly eyelashes, he applied some black mascara anyway.  Great, now Nathan was going to feel like he was constantly fluttering his eyelashes at people.  Hopefully, no one would mistake it for flirting.  After the makeup was done, Isabelle handed Nathan a vial of colorless fluid and demanded he drink it.  Ordinarily, he would balk at drinking mysterious potions.  However, he was not going to be given a choice.  He downed it in one gulp.  The taste was agreeable, reminding the weasel a little bit of cream soda.  Within seconds, the top of his head started to tingle.  The sensation spread to his entire scalp.  The fur on top of his head lengthened, growing fuller and gaining volume.  His bangs fluffed up as they grew, making an adorable curl.  The back grew longer, becoming wavy as it reached his shoulders.  The edges teased out and it darkened to a few shades of gray deeper than his fur.  Feminine headfur, looking more like that of a model than a warrior.  To top it off, Isabelle placed a maid’s barrette on top of his head.  It sat just behind his bangs.  The perfect headwear for a good little maid, matching his outfit in blue and white.  Nathan’s heart sank.  He looked into the mirror.  All he could see staring back at him was a pretty, petite little maid.  The only thing missing was breasts.  Soon, he would have those too.  The change was so radical, he hardly recognized himself.  It would not have surprised him if the reflection started making kissy faces and giggling about boys.  “This…can’t be me.”  No more Nathan.  Just as Circe had stated, he was Natalie now.
	“I know!  Couldn’t tell you were a gross little fairy warrior once, could you?”  Isabelle leaned over and kissed Natalie on the cheek.  “And you’re just gonna get cuter.  Oh!  Almost forgot, gotta bind your wings too.  Mistress has us do it for all the winged maids.  Can’t have you waving them around, knocking things over.”  The binders in question were held in front of Natalie.  They were colored to match his uniform.  A pretty harness of enchanted silk bands with ample bows.  Natalie barely registered it as he continued to stare at his reflection.  No protests were made as Isabelle put it on his wings.  He was cognizant of them being folded at his back, strapped so they could not open and bound together, but he could not bring himself to fight it.  The weasel girl staring back at him in the mirror was very pretty, but it was not a weasel girl.  It was him.  His body was changed into something it should not be and there was nothing he could do about it.  He looked up at Isabelle, saying nothing.  He must have looked uncomfortable, because Isabelle kept talking.  “Oh, don’t look so sad.  It’s not like you could fly away from here anyway.  Collar would stop you once you got off the mansion grounds.  Besides, you don’t have to sleep with the binder on.  You get to take it off at night when you slip out of your uniform for bed…..”  Isabelle grinned and leaned in.  His face was so close to Natalie he could smell the bunny’s breath.  “….or when you join me in my room for some fun…”  A soft kiss on the nose and Isabelle leaned back.  Anger kindled inside of him.  He did this to him.  He turned him into a sexualized maid.  The figure in the mirror, wrapped in frills and femininity, was his doing.  If he was able, he would have punched Isabelle in the face.  Isabelle was not looking at him.  The bunny’s attention was glued to the door leading into the hallway.  It had his full attention, as if he expected someone to come in.  When no one did, he frowned.  “…..late…hm.  Well, you’ll settle in, Natalie.”  He looked back down at the weasel.  “Go eat or something.  I got work to do.”  The bunny scurried out the door.  Despite being the head maid, it seemed like he was still expected to perform certain duties.  Was he a prisoner too?  Natalie shook his head.  It was doubtful.  He seemed far less spaced out than the other maids.  More eager.  More….devious.  There still might be some friction between Mistress Circe and him. Maybe Nathan could exploit it later?  A comment here, a word there, a little stroking of Mistress Circe’s massive ego might be all it took to get her angry with Isabelle.  The sound of the bedroom door opening and shutting brought Nathan out of his private scheming.  He made a guess as to who it was before he looked away from his reflection to see the new visitor.
	A white furred housecat was standing in the room.  A familiar white furred housecat.  The peach maid outfit looked slightly rumpled, the gloves somewhat dingy from use, but it was the same maid Natalie met earlier.  Nancy, that was his name.  He was correct about who his roommate was.  The cat’s eyes were wide when he came in, lips pursed tightly shut.  The light footsteps that brought him into the room stopped with two heavy clicks when he saw he was not alone.  Surprise played over his features.  Several seconds passed with him staring at his new roommate.  The span was long enough Natalie was concerned Nancy was angry.  A gleeful smile rapidly spread across the cat’s face.  Somehow, that was more disconcerting.  In a rush, the cat lunged at him with arms outstretched.  Fearing he was under attack, Natalie sprang to his feet.  He tried to get in a combat ready stance but only managed to sway on his high heels.  Gravity took hold and he felt himself teetering backwards.  Even his wings were no use, he could not spread them to maintain balance.  Arms wrapped around him.  Nancy prevented him from falling by pulling him into a big, squeezy hug.  He gave the surprised weasel a big kiss on the cheek.  “Ooooh!  I knew you’d join us!  I just knew it!”  Smooch Smooch!  Another two kisses on Natalie’s bewildered cheeks.  “You were so adorable!  I just knew mistress would want you as one of her maids!  I’m so happy!”  Their bodies were close, the cat wrapping his tail around one of Natalie’s legs.  He moved in for another big, wet kiss.
	Affection of this kind Natalie could do without; he planted his paws on Nancy’s chest and pushed before their lips could meet again.  “Ok, ok!  I already got one cat bath today.  Don’t need another.”  Even though he was trying to push Nancy away, Natalie was blushing.  His delicate weasel paws found purchase on his chest, but in awkward places.  One paw was cupped over each of his breasts, pressing them in a groping fashion.  Not seeming to mind, Nancy made no move to push them away.  Natalie’s ears folded back.  Nancy’s perfume smelled beautiful.  Plum blossom and sandalwood perfume, with a hint of mandarin orange.  Not too strong, floral, or fruity.  It played with Natalie’s senses.  It made him feel a little warm all over.  He had to fight a bit to keep from locking lips with the cat.  He tried to hide it behind and uncomfortable frown.
	“Hehe, sorry.  Just can’t get over how pretty you look.  That blue uniform goes really well with your fur.”  Nancy’s tail unwrapped from Natalie’s leg and swayed back and forth behind him in an excited wag.  “And your makeup?  Wow….don’t know many girls that could pull off blue lipstick as well as you do.  So daring….Just makes me wanna kiss you!”  He giggled, leaning in for another quick peck on Natalie’s lips.  He tried to pull his head back to dodge it, but Nancy was too quick for him.  “What’s your name now?  I bet it’s just as cute as you are!”
	“…..hm.”  The weasel considered not telling him.  He could even try asking him to use his old name.  Somehow, he knew that would be a bad idea.  The collar was set to recognize his prior name.  If he tried to get someone else to call him by it, the enchantment was sure to trigger.  Natalie was not his name, but he was going to have to get used to it.  For now.  “….Natalie.”  Said in a tone that could freeze water.
	“Eee!  I love it!  Soooo cute!”  Nancy squealed with glee.  Purring, he nuzzled Natalie’s cheek.  “Mistress is the best at picking out names!”  The cat was too bubbly, too excited about this.  Natalie could not express how uncomfortable he was with this, so he stared at a wall.  The wall was safe, a very nice wall.  It was painted a light enough shade of pink it was nearly white.  Very calming and subdued.
	“…..sure.”  Natalie mumbled.  It was hard to hide the dull resignation in his voice.
	“Awww…cheer up.  It’ll be fun.  I’ve been wanting a new roommate.  I’ll help you learn how to be the best maid ever!”  Nancy put his paws over Natalie’s.  They were still on his breasts.  Natalie frowned as he realized he never removed them.  He had been groping him this entire time.  “I can tell you like these….Yours’ll grown in soon enough.  Till then, I’ll let you play with mine whenever you want…..and me too.  I like weasels…”  Another oversexed purr rumbled out of Nancy’s chest.
	“How generous of you.”  No warmth at all in Natalie’s voice, but he was blushing.  He tried to pull his paws away, but Nancy was holding them over his breasts.  “Unhand my hands.”  Tugging them away was not an option.  He tried, but the cat had a really good grip on them.  It was a little odd having someone want you to touch them so badly.
	“Aww….”  Nancy jutted his lower lip out in a pout.  “Fine…you got the right idea though.  No sex till a week goes by.  Mistress’s rule.  Wish it was different, but mistress knows best!”
	“I think I can make it.”  In a house full of guys pretending to be girls, Natalie was pretty sure he could avoid coupling with any of them.  Men were definitely not his preference.  The thought of being a sex object for him was making him angry all over again.  One of his paws drifted up to tug at his collar, which did not budge in the slightest.  Still on and not going anywhere.
	“That’s good!  I’ll remember you said that when Isabelle brings you your special perfume!”  Nancy grinned.
	“…..what?”  Natalie blinked.  Special perfume?  What was that supposed to mean?
	“Yeah.  Isabelle should bring it by tomorrow.  Mistress makes it for all us girls.  A special scent made just for each of us.”  A touch of pride was in Nancy’s voice.  His eyes suddenly widened.  “Oh!  I better show you to the other girls!  It’s almost supper time.  Come on, we don’t wanna be late!  All your new friends’ll want to meet you!”  He grabbed Natalie’s paw in a firm grip and took off toward the door.
	“Wait!  I can’t walk in these things!”  Natalie had to follow.  There was no possibility of rooting himself to the ground in high heels.  With clumsy clicks, he trotted after the cat.  If this was what all the other maids were like, he was not sure he could make it without throwing one down a flight of stairs.  

4)

	No matter how much Natalie asked him to slow down, Nancy kept the same brisk pace all the way to the dining room.  If anything, he sped up once they got into the hallway.  He never let go of Natalie’s paw, practically dragging him there.  The weasel tried to keep up just to avoid falling on the floor.  Clumsy steps in high heels insured that one of his ankles rolled painfully every few steps.  Stumbling and mincing, he kept up.  What was Nancy’s rush?  Who sprinted to dinner?  He had to be starving.  Natalie hoped he was starving.  The only other reason that came to mind was that Nancy was very, very eager to show him off to the other girls.  The prospect of being shown off, leered at by the other oversexed maids, was not a possibility he wanted to entertain.  Getting dressed by Isabelle was thoroughly degrading.  Now he was being led to a group of sex slaves that would do their best to make him feel ‘welcome’.  He could just imagine their comments about how adorable he looked in his uniform.  Their paws would run all over his body.  Feeling, groping, caressing, playing over how the dress, stockings, skirt and frills played over his body.  He shuddered at the thought.  He realized if it was a group of ladies waiting to do the same thing to him, he would sprint in there willingly.  The shudder melted into a feeling of dismay.  Was he as oversexed as the rest of them?  Some hero.
	Nancy stopped several feet away from a set of double doors, well short of close enough to open them.  His eyes went wide and his lips pursed together.  Another maid was standing by the door.  A pinto horse wearing a pink maid outfit.  Natalie thought his outfit was bad, but this one was over the top in the number of lace ruffles and bows on it.  Lace on the puffed shoulders, the skirt, bows all around the hem.  Even his mane was tied in place with ribbon.  His arms were crossed under his large breasts.  He looked Natalie in the eyes.  The weasel expected him to smile, expected him to tease.  He expected a look of lust, a giggle, or maybe even a wolf (horse?) whistle.  Instead, he frowned.  His eyes cast down, body slumping with a strange sadness to it.  Before Natalie could talk to him, Nancy spoke.  “Oh, Beatrice.  Um.  Coming to join us for supper?  Plenty of room for you other girls at the table….”
	Beatrice seemed to ignore him.  He did not even look at him, focusing on Natalie.  “I thought there was a new maid.  Follow me, come eat dinner with us.”
	“NO!”  Nancy shouted before Natalie could answer.  He stepped between Beatrice and Nathan.  Arms out, back straight, standing tall, he was acting as if to shield the weasel.  “No, no, no!  Regina’s mean girls club can’t have this one too!”  The fur on Nancy’s tail stood on end.  From the side, Natalie could see his face.  His lips were drawn down.  The bubbly, cute aspects of his personality vanished.  There was an intensity in his eyes Natalie did not think he was capable of.  “We want to show him how to be a proper maid.  Not a bad one!”
	The horse rolled his eyes.  He looked Natalie, not even trying to speak to the cat.  “You probably figured out these one’s minds are gone.”  He sighed.  “Same’ll happen to you if you stick with them.  Come on.  We’ll show you how to stay sane until we can get out of here.”
	“And that’s your problem, you girls always want to leave!  That’s all you talk about!  You’re no fun at all!”  Nancy’s voice was a shout, his body tense.  He dropped his paws to his sides and clenched his fists.  “That’s why none of you will last.  I don’t want him to be a stick-in-the-mud like you!”  He quickly wheeled around to face Natalie.  He grasped the weasel’s apron and looked him straight in the eyes.  “Please, please Natalie!  Don’t go with the mean girls!  Come with me.  We’ll…we’ll be nice to you.  Show you a good time.  Show you how to have fun.  It’s better learning how to please Mistress Circe and Isabelle.  Much…much more satisfying….”  The cat’s voice melted into a purr.  Natalie tried to pull away.  People being inside of his personal space, his bubble, made him uncomfortable.  Certain types of people especially, particularly over affectionate males.  He looked at Beatrice for help.
	Beatrice shrugged.  “It’s up to you.  I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to.  You’re going to get enough of that around here.  We have to stick together while we still have our heads.  It’s the only way to keep them.”
	Natalie looked down at Nancy, who was still holding onto his uniform.  His eyes were wide and pleading.  He could not have looked more sincere.  Natalie had already made up his mind.  The choice was obvious and no amount of pleading would change that.  One sweep of Natalie’s paw was all it took to coax Nancy off of him.  The housecat stumbled on his heels before catching himself on the wall.  The hint of a smile appeared on Beatrice’s face.  As Nathan approached, he offered him a paw, which he took and gave a firm pump.  “I’m……Natalie.”  It was going to take him a while to get used to using that name.  The threat of being choked already made him decent at remembering.  “Beatrice, was it?  Not Mrs. Ed?  Epona?”
	To his credit, Beatrice did not try to punch him.  A small smile curled up one side of his muzzle and he shook his head.  “Nice to meet you, even with jokes like that.  Follow me, you dingbat.”  He pushed himself off of the wall and walked in the direction they just came from.  Natalie followed.  As he passed by Nancy, he looked at him one last time.  
No more pleading.  Now, he just looked angry.  “Fine, go!  Go on!”  Nancy huffed.  “We’ll still be here, chatting and having fun without you!  Just don’t come crying to us when you’re miserable!  You’ll never please mistress hanging out with them!”  Natalie did not look back.  Neither did Beatrice.  Just let the cat rage.  Finally, Natalie had found someone with a semblance of sanity in this mansion.  He was ready to meet more.

Since the other five maids had the dining room, the ‘mean girls’ had to make due with whatever space they could.  The tables in the rooms were too small to accommodate more than two people, so they ate in the library.  Specifically, the library set aside for the maids’ use.  Why would the lady of the house want to share a recreational area with the ‘help’?  The three maids in the room all gave Natalie the same look Beatrice had outside the dining room.  It made him feel slightly self-conscious.  Being the center of attention always made him wish he was smaller.  Usually, he got his wish.  Now, he could not change size.
Introductions were exchanged.  They learned who Natalie was and he learned the names of the other three fellow prisoners.  Regina was the lion, a sturdily build lion in purple with hair in ringlet curls.  Natalie almost mistook him for a lioness due to the lack of a mane.  He decided it best not to point that out.  Francine was a gray wolf, in lavender.  His blonde headfur was tied in curls behind his head.  It did not look natural, but there was little about their bodies that was.  Catherine was a white furred mouse, clad in green maid finery.  His brown headfur was exceptionally long and braided.  It looked like it took a long time to fix, especially with the bows decorating it.  As they introduced themselves, they did it in a friendly way without enthusiasm.  It was immediately clear to Natalie that they were not enjoying their time here, as the others were.  They had been there a long time, judging by how altered their bodies were.  Slim waists, shapely legs, plump hips, and ample breasts.  Every one of them had a fur coat worthy of a shampoo commercial, soft and shimmery.  Change was inevitable, regardless of the level of resistance.
Five covered dishes were on the table.  They were expecting him to join them.  Before Natalie could take a seat, Catherine stopped him.  “Hold on.  Don’t take this the wrong way, I mean, really, don’t, but you shouldn’t eat with all of us at once for another week.”
“Uh….ok, why?”  Natalie tilted his head.  “You guys seem nice.  Really nice.”  He took in a breath.  The pleasant scent of perfume filled his nose.  It was a heady aroma, a mixture of spice, fruits, and flowers.  Somehow, it all mixed well in his nose, not overwhelming his senses as most perfumes did.  A warm feeling spread through his body, starting in his loins.  A blush burned in his inner ears and his thoughts started to drift to lust.  Unusual, he only got this way around particularly attractive women.  His eyes kept focusing on the breasts and skirts of the other maids.  “I’d like to stick around, you know?  Maybe we can….get to know each other better?  You’re all so cute….”
“It’s already happening.”  Regina rolled his eyes.  “The answer’s no.  Go to your room and Catherine’ll explain everything.  Try not to take deep breaths till then.”
“Hey, don’t be a rude lion.”  Natalie was a little insulted.  They invited him here, now they were ordering him around and asking him to leave.  “Be a food lion, so we can all eat together!”  Natalie grinned, but was met with four dead-eyed stares.  His smile quickly faded.  They were not laughing, but Natalie was used to his puns sailing over people’s heads.  He knew he had been stared at before but, this time he felt more annoyance from them.  Looking down, he noticed a very obvious tent in the front of his fluffy skirts.  Arousal.  Before he could move to cover it, Catherine shoved a covered dish into his paws.  Out of reflex, he took it.
“Don’t worry, it happens.  Let’s get out of here.”  The mouse sounded so understanding.  Natalie, more than a little embarrassed, could not find words to express himself.  He just nodded.  With a patient smile, he was led from the room.

His head started to clear the second he was out of the library.  By the time Catherine and he sat down at his bedroom table, he was far less flustered.  He nearly lost control in there.  If given the word, he would have practically pounced on one of the maids.  This was not who he was, not entirely.  He knew his preferences and did have some restraint even around those.  Before uncovering his food, he looked at Catherine.  “Ok, what’s the deal?  I get around the other maids and, suddenly, I’m a lusty teenager instead of a lusty adult.  What’s enchanted?”
“Huh, I was just about to explain that.  You’re pretty sharp.”  Catherine seemed surprised, but pleasantly so.  “It’s the perfume.  Mistress makes us wear it.  It takes a little bit to get used to, but it’ll be better once you do.  Till then, you’ll eat separate from us.”
“I don’t have any yet.  Should I feel left out?’
“Really?  Huh, you smell a bit like peppermint.  I figured she already gave it to you.”
“That’s natural.  I’m a candy fairy.”  This was not the first time someone remarked on Natalie’s aroma.  He was used to it.
Catherine frowned.  “Hey, just because you’re in this situation, surrounded by a bunch of men dressed up like maids, that’s no reason to call yourself….”  The mouse paused.  His frown vanished when he noticed the wings and a look of realization crossed his face.  “Oh!  An actual fairy!”  His inner ears turned red with blush.  “Um, nevermind, heh.  I thought….heh.  Um.”  Now it was the mouse’s turn to be flustered.  Natalie let him stammer.  It was entertaining just to see this play out.  “I didn’t think fairies even existed a couple years ago.  Nothing should surprise me anymore.   I mean…you don’t look like a fairy.”  He paused to let Natalie speak, but the candy fairy said nothing.  “I mean, uh, you have wings.  And, you’re kind of big.  Aren’t fairies supposed to be small?  Er…wait, fairies supposed to be…I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be offensive!”  The mouse buried his muzzle in his paws.  Great, now Natalie felt bad.
“Hey, hey, don’t!  I’m not offended!”  Natalie got up and went to Catherine’s side.  He put a paw on his shoulder.  “You’re not being fairy-ist, trust me.  I’m not even sure that’s a thing.  Even if you were, I’m about as un-PC as you can get.”  Natalie gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  “You’re fine.”
Catherine looked up.  He had not been crying, but he was blushing brightly and visibly uncomfortable.  “Really?”  Natalie nodded.  The muscles in the mouse’s neck and shoulders that had been so tensed up relaxed.  “Good….I mean….you have it bad enough right now.  I don’t want to make it worse.  I don’t want you to offend you and have you fall in with the other maids.  You’ll lose your mind, trying to be like them.”
Natalie walked back to his place at the table and sat down.  “Yeah.  They seem a little too happy to be here.”
“I don’t think they were always like that.  They were like that when I got here about a year ago.”  He took the cover off of his food.  A pleasant smell filled Natalie’s nose.  He realized he was very hungry.  “Regina says some of them were a little less…..well, eager to please years ago, but they let this place get to them.  I mean, they were like this before, but had more fight in them.   Lost it, I guess.”
“I see.”  Natalie eyed the appetizing, fancy looking food on Catherine’s plate.  He uncovered his and saw more of the same.  A bit healthier and more decorative than he was used to, but it would do nicely.  Natalie was never much for fine dining, but would not push the plate away if offered it.  “So this place changes you?”
“In a lot of ways.  Just, uh, try not to think about it too much.  I’m sure we can figure out a way to undo the damage once we get out of here.”  Catherine looked down at his massive breasts for a moment and frowned.  Not a fan, it seemed.  
“I’ll help however I can.  If it weren’t for this collar, I’d already have us out of here.”  Natalie grumbled.  “She got the drop on me, coming to slay her.  Took away my magic, put this collar on me.”
“So that’s how she caught you?”  A sad smile came to Catherine’s face.  “Thanks for trying.  I appreciate it, even if you got caught for it.  For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you’re in this situation with us, but we’ll do our best to take care of you.”  He sighed.  “But….we can’t stop them.  A lot of really bad stuff’s going to happen to you.”
“I’m starting to get that impression.”  Natalie scowled.  The thought of Isabelle putting his paws all over him was repulsive.  He shuddered.  “Her pet rabbit said something about a week.  I’ll get us out of here by then.”
“I hope you’re right, I really do.  Isabelle..he….”  Catherine trailed off, then shook his head.  “Just don’t think about it for now.  I better go over some rules with you.  Give you some tips on how to survive.”
“Lay it on me.  Is there going to be a test later?  I left my notes and textbook in my other set of panties.”  Natalie smiled.
“Goofball.”  Catherine chuckled a little, just a little.  It was enough to make Natalie feel vindicated.  “Your jokes are dumb, but hold onto your sense of humor.  I don’t think Mistress Circe likes levity very much.  I’ve only ever heard her chuckle when Isabelle says something cruel or when something painful happens.  That’s something you’ll have to keep in mind.  Now, the rest….”  The pair started to eat and Catherine began the task of educating Natalie.  The weasel tried to keep up, but they both knew he would not retain it all from just one night.  However, they did not have to get it perfect.  They would share their meals together for the rest of the week.  Catherine would only leave once Nancy returned to their room.  The cat was never happy to see him.

5)

	Natalie’s first week was troublesome, but did have some parts that were easier to deal with than others.  In an odd display of unanimity, the maids agreed that he should work the kitchen for his first week.  Being a candy fairy, food was kind of his thing.  The idea excited him.  If he was to cook for Circe and Isabelle, it might prove to be the perfect opportunity to poison her.  Or, failing that, just to mess with her.  He was quite ready to ‘accidentally’ mix up sugar and salt, use too much hot sauce, or spit in her tea when he found out that Isabelle prepared all of Circe’s meals, as well as all of his own.  He could have done something to the ingredients, but he had no way of knowing where they would end up.  Four maids he liked, so he did not want it to go to them.  The other five were irritating, but not to the point Natalie wanted to mess with them.  They had it bad enough.
	
	Natalie’s first day on kitchen duty was uneventful.  He prepared breakfast for the maids, cooked a quick lunch, busied himself cleaning the dishes and polishing various surfaces and enchanted appliances.  It was easy work, which the weasel would not normally have minded.  It was made much more difficult by his uniform.  Wobbling around in high heels made every task precarious.  That he managed to avoid burning or cutting himself was a testament to his overall coordination, even if he did fall on his butt a few times.  The corset created its own set of difficulties.  Natalie was not sure how the old timey women ever put up with them.  He felt like he was constantly being squeezed.  He was already not used to being this big.  Having something putting constant pressure around his belly made the sensation even stronger.  It was like he was wearing clothing several sizes too small and there was nothing he could do to take it off.  Every action had to be calculated.  If he did something strenuous and ran out of breath, it took him much longer to get it back.  Nothing but shallow breaths could be taken with his squeezed ribcage.  Stretching and sharp bending were out of the question.  He was told it was worth it to accentuate his ‘girlish’ figure, which he did not even want.  The petticoat was arguably worse.  He was not aware an article of clothing could move so much.  When he turned, when he leaned over, whenever he walked it swished and rustled against him.  The way it moved against his private parts made him shiver at times.  Sometimes, the way the silk and tulle caressed him seemed almost intentional.  It never felt like he was completely covered.  He kept having to check and adjust his skirt to make sure his panties were not exposed.  The length was designed to show him off, he knew this.  The second purpose had to be humiliation.  For that, it was working extremely well.  He felt a breeze on his backside whenever he lifted his tail.  He knew he was exposed.  Even though he was alone, it still made him annoyed.  He was thankful kitchen duty was a one girl job……a one man job!  Calling himself a ‘girl’ crept into his thoughts without warning.  He did his best to avoid it, but it was hard, especially when he caught sight of his reflection.
	While he was preparing supper for the other maids and himself, he heard the tell-tale sound of Isabelle’s heels clicking into the room.  Big feet made for heavy footfalls, he did not even have to look.  Isabelle stood behind him, as if he were trying to sneak up on him.  He said nothing, just watching Natalie work.  Natalie tried to ignore him, but getting stared at in such a compromising situation was unnerving.  He felt Isabelle’s eyes crawling all over him, his leer traveling down his spine and under his skirts.  The weasel knew that he would not go away until he gave him the attention he sought.  Why he did not say something, he did not know.  “What do you want?” He finally asked, making no effort to hide his contempt.
	“Hi Natalie!”  Isabelle’s tone was cheerful.  “I was just back here, admiring the view.”  Natalie quickly flipped his tail down.  His blush started to grow when he realized he had been flagging it upward for balance, not caring about showing his backside.  If he was alone, why worry?  It had not occurred to him that someone might come in at any moment.  “I really like how those panties show off your butt.  Glad you picked the full pair with all the lace ruffles.  Very cute.”  The bunny purred.  Natalie’s blush deepened.  He chose the pair that he thought would cover the most.  It did not stop Isabelle’s comments.  They were compliments he did not appreciate.
	“…..I hate you.”  Natalie commented.  He straightened up, tugged his skirts down, and turned to face Isabelle in one motion.  He kept those paws on his skirt.  In the event he moved wrong, he wanted to make sure they did not rise.
	“You shouldn’t say things like that, it’s not nice.”  Isabelle stuck his lower lip out.  “Especially ‘cause I like you, Natalie.  I even brought you a present!”  A faux innocent smile spread on the bunny’s face.
	“Unless it’s a ticket on the ‘leave this garbage mansion express’, I don’t want it.”
	“You’ll like it, I promise.”  The bunny reached into his apron pocket and pulled out a perfume bottle with attached atomizer.  The color of the glass was the same as Natalie’s uniform.  “Ta-dah!  Your very own perfume, lovingly made by Mistress Circe!”  There did not look to be anything special about it.  The way Isabelle held it, he probably expected Natalie to take it.  Before he could reach for it, the bunny took aim and sprayed a generous portion of it in his direction.
	“Gah!  Poison mist, why!?”  Caught off guard, Natalie flailed as the mist of perfume enveloped him.  Aromatic chocolate with a swirl of vanilla bean, rich scents to tease the nose.  A ripple of heat coursed through Natalie’s body.  He shivered, fur along his back bristling.  His wings flexed in their bindings.  All of his exposed flesh darkened with blush and he felt a swelling in his loins.  Looking down, his skirt was tented up again, a sure sign of his arousal.  “What….wait…what?”  He stammered, covering himself with his paws.  Just the sensation of his fingers brushing against his covered maleness was enough to make him shudder.
	“You like it?”  Isabelle giggled.  “Mistress had to think a little to come up with a scent to go with your natural, well…..mintyness.”
	“I…uh…”  Natalie was having trouble thinking clearly.  “Chocolate?  Really?”
	“Yep, part of it.  I think it makes you smell a bit like an ice cream.  I like it.”  Isabelle leaned in.  “Mmm….just gives people an excuse to lick you.  Get a taste.”  He ran his tongue over Natalie’s cheek in a long, slow lap.  Natalie was unable to pull away in time to avoid it.  “Mmm….yum.”  Isabelle licked his lips and giggled.
	Natalie put a paw to his cheek.  Revulsion, that is what he should have felt.  Strangely, the sensation was not unpleasant.  He shivered; mind suddenly flush with images of other uses for that tongue.  Deeply pornographic images.  A whimper escaped his muzzle as he fought them, pushing them away.  He took a deep breath, inhaling more sweet scents of chocolate and mint.  He had never felt so needy, so horny in his entire life.  He felt as though he were ready to burst, as if he had not made love, or even pleasured himself in months.  No, years!  He put his paws to his head, lewd images dancing in his imagination.  Images of the maids, of Isabelle, and himself doing unspeakable things to all of them.  He felt his tail lift up, flagging high and proud.  He vaguely tried to lower it, but it stubbornly refused.  His body seemed to want him to present to whoever would bend him over and…..no, stop!  “What did you do to me!?!”  Natalie screamed.  He took a few steps backward and collapsed on the floor.  
Isabelle, who was watching the whole spectacle as though he could see Natalie’s internal struggles, just laughed.  “Wow!  It’s been ages since I’ve seen this kind of reaction!”  He put his paws on his knees and leaned over Natalie.  “Hehe….so horny.  So needy.  Before coming here, you must have been incredibly oversexed.  Must have thought about it all the time…..bet you have a huge porn collection too, don’tcha?”  
“I….I….”   Natalie squeezed his eyes shut.  He could see up Isabelle’s skirts.  The image of those panties, the naughty act of peering under such a revealing garment, was not what he needed at the moment.  He was not into guys.  Lust drunk with the perfume, his body did not seem to care.  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”
“Hah, it’s true!  Imagine that!”  Isabelle clasped his paws together.  “Such a goody little two shoes…..but don’t check his secret places.  The places he hides all his naughty naughty pictures!”
Natalie opened his eyes for just a moment, anger flashing in them.  It only lasted a second before he had to shut them again.  It was difficult to be angry when his thoughts turned directly to sex.  “You don’t know anything about me.  I may have urges, but I can ignore them.  I’m not an oversexed animal, like you!”  Natalie spat.
“Aren’t you?”  Isabelle smirked.  “I think you are.  You may try and hide it, but you can’t.  It’s dumb to even try.  The perfume brought out the real you.”  He moved a paw down to caress Natalie’s cheek.  His touch was so soft, so gentle.  Delicate bunny fingers, clad in erotically smooth, silken gloves, traced over his muzzle.  It felt so nice.  Without thinking, Natalie nuzzled against his paw, breath quickening.  “See?  You like it…..”  He cupped his paw under the weasel’s muzzle and lifted it.  Leaning in, Isabelle gave him a kiss.  The moment their lips touched, Natalie pushed into it.  What was wrong with a little kiss?  A little taste to quell the horrible aching in his loins.  Isabelle pulled back and let his paw trace lower.  “Just like that.  You’re a better kisser than I thought.  Just took the right prompting.”  Isabelle’s paw ran down Natalie’s chest.   “Shame I have to wait a week before I get to take you…..mmm….bet you’ve never been mounted before.  Can’t wait to get under that tail.”  Yeah……no!  Natalie was brought back to reality.  The wrongness of it filled him with disgust, bile rising to anger.  He dug down deep and mustered all the resistance he could.  The charming nature of the perfume could not overpower him unless he let it.  Saying a quick prayer in his head, he reached up and put his paws on Isabelle’s stomach.  He was a hero and he knew where his strength came from.  It was not all his.  Isabelle must have been expecting him to caress him, to reach under his skirt, to play into his teasing.  Instead, he shoved the rabbit so forcefully that he tumbled back.  He must have been caught off guard, his eyes went wide with shock.  His big feet could not provide enough balance to keep him upright.  He fell hard on the tile floor.  He landed in a tangle of arms, legs, and petticoats.  It must have hurt when he landed, the bunny winced.  He cradled his right arm against his belly and rubbed the elbow.  “Owie…”  
“Get away from me!  Rapist rabbits like you make me want to split hares.  With an axe.”  Natalie stood up and balled his paws into fists.  “Touch me again and I’ll snap your neck like….angel hare pasta!”  Righteous indignation blazing within him, Natalie took a menacing step toward Isabelle with fists raised.  For a moment, the bunny looked nervous.  It did not last long.  He smirked and pointed a finger at him.  The collar tightened up instantly.  Without oxygen, Natalie could not fight anyone or even stand up on his own.  He collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air.
Isabelle stood up and straightened his skirts.  He calmly clicked over to the weasel’s supine form.  “Surprised me there.  Didn’t think you had that in you.  Trust me, it won’t happen again.”  One of his feet stomped down on Natalie’s chest hard enough to make him wheeze.  The collar had let up, but the combined pressure from his corset and Isabelle’s foot kept him from recovering.  “You remind me of Regina.  Trying to hold on to that little, baseless, puritanical nonsense you picked up in whatever backwards social club you came from.  It’s not gonna stop me from taking what I want from you.”  He leaned in.  “One week, little fairy, and you’re mine.  Mmm….I’m gonna enjoy bending you over my bed.”
Natalie gritted his teeth.  The pressure from Isabelle’s high heel was applied an inch below his breastbone.  It hurt, Isabelle had done this before.  “I….won’t make it easy…..on you….never give it to you.”
“Even better.  It feels so good when they writhe and struggle.”  Isabelle giggled.  “And someday, you’ll give it to me freely.  It may take months.  It may take years, but you will.”  He leaned down and put even more pressure on Natalie’s chest.  He groaned in pain.  Ignoring it, Isabelle kissed his nose, just to prove he could.  “They always do.”  He said before getting off of him.  Natalie’s chest felt like it was on fire.  Rolling onto his side, he curled up into a ball.  It helped with the pain.  At least the hurt he felt overrode the painful arousal he felt a few minutes ago.  He said nothing to reply.  The rabbit walked off with happy little steps.  He must have known Natalie was watching him.  He flicked his skirts up to show off his backside to him as he went.  Even when being threatening, he was a flirt.  
“Stupid sexy Isabelle…..”  Natalie grumbled to himself as a joke.  Maybe if he mixed the image with that, he would not find the flirting so appealing.  He really hoped the other maids were right about it wearing off in time.
As Isabelle got to the door, he looked back at Natalie and winked.  “Better get back to work!  I think the other maids’ll get cranky if you’re late with their supper.”  With a giggle, he vanished through the door.
“Yeah, and stay out!”  Natalie called after him.  Taking a deep breath, he stood up.  He wanted to run.  He wanted to start screaming and breaking things.  Shamefully, he also wanted to take a break to go pleasure himself.  No more pain meant the arousal was back and stronger than ever.  Isabelle was right.  He had to cook.  A maid had his duties, after all.  Sighing, he returned to meal prep.  No reason for the others to go hungry just because he had a bad day.

Natalie’s week did not get any easier from that point on.  Nancy was overjoyed when he found out that he received his perfume.  The expected compliments flowed seamlessly from the cat.  How pretty his new scent was.  How well it complimented and suited him, with its sweet and creamy overtones.  How much it would draw the attention of all the cute guys.  He gushed like a teenage girl when he talked about ‘cute guys’.  The compliments were difficult for him to listen to, making him uncomfortable.  It was not just that he did not want them to fit him, as they would be more suited for a vapid sex object, but that he was starting to enjoy the attention.  He had never been gushed over like that, much less complimented so frequently.  That Nancy was reasonably attractive did not help matters.  Natalie’s eyes were drawn to his ample breasts, his soft fur.  His gaze would travel up his legs and under his skirt, sneaking a peak at his round buttocks and lacey panties.  The shameful arousal Natalie received from it he attributed to the perfume.  At times, it was easy to forget that he was male.  It was easy to forget that he, too, was a prisoner here.  The only difference was he had been there a very long time.  It did not escape his notice how horny Natalie had become.  While he was not unkind to him over it, he flirted with him as often as possible.  A flick of his skirt here, a purr or a brush of his paws there.  These were tricks he had to have learned from Isabelle, they did not seem natural.  Despite this, Nancy was quick to remind him they were not allowed to have sex for seven days, but offered to play with him all he liked after Isabelle was done with him.  He swore to never take him up on his offer.  Natalie really liked buxom, fluffy cats, but Nancy was not his type.  He was not into loosely moored men physically and mentally bent into sex toys that parodied the female form, regardless of how often he found his thoughts drifting to lust over Nancy’s hot, supple body.
The other maids were far more helpful.  Regina, Beatrice, Catherine, and Francine took turns eating supper with him.  While he could not help but leer at them with hungry eyes, they did not play into it.  No flirting, no deliberate, sexualized touches.  Instead of telling him to give in to his lust, they told him about how to fight it.  Beatrice told him how to regulate his breathing.  It would help him not panic so much when the collar cut off his air supply.  Catherine instructed him on the finer points of fine dining, table manners, and general etiquette so he would avoid punishment in the future.  He also instructed him in how to stay aloof and disinterested around Mistress Circe and Isabelle.  It was easier said than done, but might frustrate them a little bit if successful.  Natalie was all for anything that annoyed them.  Francine mostly just listened.  Natalie felt quite comfortable around the wolf.  He had a disarming, empathetic way about him that showed he cared not just about him, but every prisoner in the mansion.  He quickly changed the subject whenever Natalie asked him about the other maids.  Natalie did not want to pry, but he seemed so sad when he thought of them.  No one liked a lost cause.
Out of all of them, Natalie felt like Regina helped give him the most sanity.  The weasel had many questions and he answered them as best as he could.  Out of the four sane maids, he had been there the longest, roughly three years.  He kept track as best as he could, but all the days seemed to run together.  The other five maids, the ones who increasingly seemed to have had their brains melted by giving in to their basest nature, had been there even longer.  Regina assured Natalie that they had been that way, more or less, when he arrived.  That did not have to happen to him, as long as they stuck together.
Regina used to be a police officer, and a dedicated one at that.  He talked fondly about his wife and bragged about his two sons.  He wanted to get back to them as soon as possible.  It kept him focused, which is why he was so eager to help the newer maids fight against Mistress Circe’s influence.  In other ways, it made his situation all the more tragic.  He was allowed no contact with his former family.  The skunk was not interested in them at all.  His biggest fear was that she had them killed, but he refused to even consider that possibility.  He was silent on the matter when around her.  The less information someone gave to her, the fewer tools she would have to use against them, that was his reasoning.  He admonished him that Mistress Circe only allowed them to talk when spoken to first.  That might actually be a good thing, less opportunity to let her into their heads.  She was skilled enough at that as it was.
The lion was ever alert for a way out of there, but had come up with nothing.  It was not from a lack of effort.  Natalie found out it was not without risks.  There were places in the mansion the maids were not allowed.  These restricted areas were said to be dangerous but, more likely, they were where Mistress Circe kept her more potent magical items.  Regina had been caught there and the punishments had been severe.  No details were provided, but Regina shifted uncomfortably when he mentioned them.  Natalie decided not to ask him to explain, taking Regina at his word that Mistress Circe could be very creative with her magic.  That was not the worst part.  Regina had not found any helpful information on how to get them out of there.  He still held on to his hope.  There had to be some way to send for someone to rescue them.  He would not give up, even if it took decades.
In many ways, Natalie was very different from the lion.  Before coming here, he had been masculine, a family man, exercised regularly.  They were not from the same world or even the same species.  Their biology could not be more different.  The major thing they did share was very important.  Regina was a praying man, Roman Catholic to be precise.  He had been slightly lukewarm before being held captive here.  As with many in history before him, life had knocked him to his knees.  With no other hope, he turned to prayer to help get him through this and his faith had grown.  Part of his renewed purpose was helping people like Natalie.  After he found out, the next morning he went directly to Regina’s room after he finished getting dressed.  Regina’s roommate was Beatrice and he found them both kneeling together by their beds, doing their morning prayers.  They were happy to have him join.  He later found out Beatrice had not been a praying man at all before coming here.  Regina helped restore his hope.
  By the end of the week long period, Natalie’s body fully adjusted to the perfume.  The constant, unrelenting arousal dissipated.  He felt in control of one aspect of his body.  The other changes he could do nothing about.  Softer fur, rounder hips, his breasts had started to come in.  While he hated what his body would become, he tried not to dwell on it.  Mirrors were to be avoided.  The reflection was not him.  It could not be.  At the very least, now he could look at the other maids without thinking perverted thoughts.
On day number seven, he was eating supper with the lion in the room he shared with Beatrice.  All the rooms looked the same, just with different colors of linen.  Of all the things they could have been talking about, they were discussing medieval weaponry.  Natalie loved axes and Regina had spent some time learning how to throw them so he could compete in the county fair.  Their talk was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door opening, followed by the heavy clicks from a very large pair of high-heels.  They both turned their heads to see Isabelle standing in the doorway.  A huge, excited grin was on his face.  Dangling from a paw was a bright blue leash, one the same color as Natalie’s uniform.  His seven-day reprieve was over.  The weasel was so focused on everything else that was happening that he completely forgot about it.  The significance of the leash was not lost on him.  It could only mean one thing.  He had seen Isabelle walking with it down the hall on two occasions.  He always looked so eager, one of the other maids in tow.  The first time he saw Gloria, who looked nervous, but happy, eager to please.  The second time it was Francine, whose eyes were downcast.  His gaze met Natalie’s, fear and sadness in his eyes.  He led them away to get his pleasure from them, deriving pleasure and making them feel filthy with his ravishing.  Everything in the mansion was color-coded, the leashes were no exception.  It was Natalie’s turn.  Isabelle said nothing at first, letting the leash dangle from his paw and sway from side to side.  The weasel’s ears flattened against his head.  “No…..”  He whimpered.
“Hehe, oh yes.  It’s time, Natalie.”  Isabelle giggled and clicked closer.  “Your week is up.  Now we get to play.”  He stood a couple of yards before Natalie, looming over the seated mustelid.  “I’ve been so patient, putting up with your constant flirting.  How you tease me so much with that tail of yours.  I’ve seen how you lick your lips, stare at me.  Flick up your skirt when I’m looking at you.”  He purred.  “That tail….so naughty.”
“Stop it.  I’ve never flirted with you.”  Natalie scowled.  “You’re a repugnant rabbit.  Rabpugnant.”
Isabelle rolled his eyes.  “Oh, deny it all you want.  You want me.  I can smell it on you.”  He licked his lips and moved closer.  
Regina left his chair.  In the time it took Isabelle to advance one step, the lion stepped between him and Natalie.  “Stop.”  He commanded with so much resolve that Isabelle actually did so.  “Don’t do this.  You don’t have to live like this.”
Isabelle rolled his eyes.  “Silly lion.  Why would I want to stop having fun?  And Natalie wants it so badly.  He’s quivering with anticipation!”  He giggled.  Natalie was shaking, but that was not because he was looking forward to this.  An icy ball of fear sat in the pit of his stomach.  What was to come was unnatural, a violation of everything he was.  He shrank back in his chair as if he could vanish.  Just dissolve and be carried away on the wind to somewhere there were no forced maids and overly horny rabbits.  He looked up at Isabelle with pleading eyes, but the rabbit knew what he wanted.  “So out of my way.  I’m taking my sweet little Natalie.  Gonna pop his cherry.”
Regina looked down at Natalie, looking him directly in the eyes.  It only lasted a second, but it told him everything he needed to know.  He turned his head back to Isabelle.  “Take me instead.”
“……what?”  The rabbit actually stepped back.  No smile, no giggle, just pursed lips and wide eyes.
Regina took in a deep breath and stepped closer to the bunny.  He closed his eyes and leaned in.  His arms went around Isabelle’s waist and he nuzzled his cheek.  The white rabbit was so stunned he made no move to stop him.  “It’s….been too long since we were…..together.  I….”  Regina swallowed.  Natalie could see him stiffen up.  “I want you….Isabelle.  Forget about Natalie.  Take me….I’m yours….”  He kissed the bunny’s cheek, leaving a red lip print.
“…….what?”  Isabelle repeated.  The blue leash fell from his paw and clattered on the floor.
Natalie was just as surprised, but he realized what was going on.  “Regina….you…you don’t have to do this.  I’ll be ok, really.”  He was not ok at all.  He was terrified of what would happen in Isabelle’s bedroom.  The feeling of relief from having someone else take his place was almost as scary.  Almost.  As shameful as it was, he regretted making any effort to stop Regina.  A hero should not feel relief when another takes his place on the chopping block.  “I mean, I…um….”  Part of him wanted to try harder to dissuade the lion.  Run up there, push him out of the way, and endure what the other maids had to daily.  They had tolerated it for years and he was quivering in terror.  But, he stayed seated.
“Heh…..hehehehe…”  Isabelle started giggling.  He nudged Regina away, causing him to click backwards two steps.  “I know what you’re doing, you naughty lion…”  He waggled a finger at him.  “You can’t fool me, but I’ll play your game.”  He reached down and scooped up the blue leash.  Into his apron it went to be replaced by one a shade of purple matching Regina’s outfit.  “You take his place tonight.  I can always deflower little Natalie tomorrow.”  He looked past the lion and grinned at Natalie.  “After all, we have all the time in the world.  It’s not like you’re going anywhere.”  He clicked the leash to Regina’s collar.
“You’re a loathsome man, Isabelle.”  Knowing the act was for nothing, Regina told him what he really thought.  “And you’re going to get what you deserve someday.”
“I already do.  I’m a good girl, a perfect maid.  And I deserve all of you girls to play with.  I get it too.”  He purred and tugged Regina’s leash.  “We’re wasting time.  I’ve been waiting all week for Natalie…..so pent up.  You’ll do for tonight, but I’m gonna be….rough.”  He grinned up at the lion and made a snapping motion with his teeth.  Regina winced.  “Have a lot of horny energy to work off.  Let’s see if you can keep up.”  He reached under Regina’s skirts and squeezed something.  It was obviously sensitive, the lion gritted his teeth and cringed.
Regina looked at Natalie.  Their eyes met again, but Natalie had to look away.  Regina looked back at Isabelle and spoke.  “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Gonna make you regret playing the hero, Regina.”  Isabelle started to lead Regina away.  However, he paused at the doorway.  He looked at Natalie one last time.  “You’re certainly no hero, little weasel.  Hard to believe you ever thought you were one.  You belong here.  No adventures, no fighting, you weren’t cut out for that.  Just service to our mistress.  You’re one of us girls, and a shy one at that.  And you’ll learn your place too.  A good, subservient little maid is all you’ll ever be.”  Natalie did not look at Isabelle once during his spiel.  He finally looked at the door after Isabelle took Regina through it.  He hated the rabbit with every fiber of his being, him and Mistress Circe both.  There were many reasons for it.  At that moment, he hated that Isabelle might be right about him.
“Regina……”  Natalie said before burying his muzzle in his paws.

Natalie stayed in Regina’s room after Isabelle snatched him away.  The very least he could do was wait up for him until he returned to thank him for what he did.  Beatrice returned to the room after about a half hour and was a little surprised to see Natalie there.  He explained to him what happened, which did not make him any less surprised.  “You’d better find a real good way to make that up to him.”  The horse had commented.  “You owe him.  If it was me, I wouldn’t have done it.  I see enough of that rabbit as it is.”  This did not make Natalie feel any better.  He came there to rescue them, but they were trying to shelter him.  Each of them was doing it in their own way, Regina most of all.  He was the new girl, one they were trying to shield from just how horrible this place could be for as long as they could.  Tears formed in the corners of Natalie’s eyes.  He was never this emotional.  Something about this place brought it out in him.  He tried to hold them back, not cry in front of Beatrice.  He managed to blink they away before the horse asked him to undo his corset so he could shower.  He did not seem to even notice, or was too polite to say anything about it.  For whatever reason it was, Natalie was thankful.
Natalie sat on Regina’s bed, waiting.  He wanted to be there when Regina returned.  Beatrice made some idle small-talk with him to pass the time, but the weasel was not really into it.  He was too preoccupied.  Besides, it was a little hard to take a horse in a frilly pink nightgown seriously.  Natalie kept waiting.  Not being sure when the lion would return, he did not go get cleaned up, as Beatrice suggested.  He did not want to miss Regina’s return.  Two hours passed and the lights went out.  Not being able to sleep himself, Beatrice waited too.  He sat on the edge of his bed.  Natalie had moved to one of the chairs by then.  Then, they watched the door.
After another hour, Beatrice was starting to look worried.  He could not think of any other time Isabelle had kept someone for this long after lights out.  He was usually one to take what he wanted, indulge, and kick the maid out of bed to do the walk of shame back to their room.  Something was taking longer than usual.  The door opened as Natalie was thinking about going out to look for him.
Both of them stared as Regina walked, no, limped in.  The lion was completely naked.  So much for always being in uniform.  He was hunched over, holding his abdomen as if his entire core hurt.  Dried blood was on his nose and chin.  His lower lip was split near the center of his muzzle and his left eye looked puffy.  His gait was wrong.  Even the act of stepping seemed to cause him pain.  He did not speak.  He walked to his bed and flopped down on his side.  It was far from elegant, more of a fall than anything.  The box springs squeaked under his weight.  Beatrice put his paws to his muzzle, clearly taken aback by how beat up the lion looked.
“Regina?”  Natalie asked.  He stood up and walked towards the laying lion.  “Are you okay?  Umm…”  Natalie clasped his paws to his chest and clicked up to him.  It looked like he had not been in the throes of passion with someone, but in a fight.
“I’m all right.”  He rolled back to look at Natalie.  He smiled, but he looked very worn.  The exhaustion showed in his eyes.
“You look like cr….garbage.”  Natalie caught himself.  He knelt by the bed to get closer.
Regina sighed and looked away.  “Isabelle was rougher than usual…..”  He rubbed his lip where it was split open. “A lot rougher.  Guess he wanted to make me regret playing the hero.  But, I’m not sorry.”
“Yeah, but he hurt you pretty bad.”  Natalie frowned.  The tears were coming back.  “You didn’t have to do that for me…..I came here to rescue you guys.”
“Heh….it’s fine.  Mistress Circe’ll fix me up tomorrow.  Gotta be at my best to serve….”  Regina snorted.  “She’ll tease me about getting beat up by her pet rabbit, but I’m used to that too.”  He looked back up at Natalie.  “Way I see it, letting that rabbit have you would’ve destroyed you.  I couldn’t let that happen.”
Natalie winced as if Regina had struck him.  Did he really seem that weak?  He must have.  He could not stop the tears this time.  They ran from the corners of his eyes, dripping down off his muzzle and falling on the purple quilt.  “Regina….thank you.”  Maybe it would have damaged him beyond repair?  He had no way of knowing at this point.   He wrapped his arms around Regina and hugged him as best he could.
Regina winced in pain.  “Easy, easy…still sore.”
“…sorry.”  Natalie’s inner ears flushed and he let up.  He tried to tilt his muzzle away so Regina could not see him cry.  He wanted him to think he was strong.  “I…I can’t let you do that again.  If he comes for me, I’m going.  We’re all in this together, right?”  He smiled as best he could, putting on his bravest face.  Inwardly, he was terrified.
Regina nodded.  “….Thanks.  I’m not sure how many more of those nights I could take.”  He reached a paw up and ruffled Natalie’s headfur.  “Just don’t cry.  He loves it when we cry.  Pretend you’re not even there.  Don’t talk, don’t look at him, don’t feed into it.  Remember, we’re all going to get out of here someday.”
“Thank you, Regina.  I’ll remember that.”  He tried to commit his advice to memory, but his thoughts were whirling.  The very idea of being used like that scared him.  Maybe he could find a way to escape before then?
“Good.  Uh…..”  Regina stated.  “I’m sorry, Natalie, but I’m so tired.  I’d like to try and sleep now, if that’s ok….”  He lay back, limp against his bed.  “We can still meet tomorrow morning, but I….”
“It’s all right.  You look like you need the sleep.  I’ll just…go sleep.  Too.”  Natalie stood up.  “Thank you again.  I’m glad you didn’t take Isabelle’s trying to rape me lion down.”  He smiled and wagged his tail.  It was never the wrong time for a pun.  He looked at Regina to see his reaction, but the lion was already asleep.  Maybe next time.  At least it was too dark for Regina to see him cry.
At least, that was what Natalie thought until he got back to his room.  In the dim light of the bathroom, he saw his reflection.  His tears made his mascara run.  The lines were tracing all over his muzzle in the pattern that his tears fell.  The lion knew.

6)

	The next morning proceeded normally.  Natalie woke up and took some time to clean up, as he had not done so the night before.  He got dressed, did his hair and makeup, all the things expected of a proper maid that had become his routine.  How he loathed it.  At least he did not have to fear putting on his perfume anymore, having built up a tolerance to its effects.  Nancy asked him how his first night with Isabelle was in a cheery voice, but Natalie ignored him.  He did not want to be reminded of what he had to do tonight.
	After breakfast, he went to Regina’s room for their morning prayers.  The makeup did nothing to hide the cut on the lion’s lip.  His left eye had swollen to the point it was partially closed, the skin underneath of the fur a shade of purple associated with a bruise.  He did not speak about the previous night either and Natalie did not want to bring it up.  They both knew what was coming and prayed that Natalie would stay strong.  He felt like he would need all the help he could get.
	After prayer, they met with the other maids to divide up chores for the week.  Natalie was on dusting and bathroom duty with Francine and Winifred.  They went their separate ways, supplies in paw to make sure Mistress Circe’s home stayed spotless.  As spotless as she was, she would probably say.  The weasel was in charge of the second floor.  On his way there, he ran into Isabelle, proving that his luck was poor.  Sometimes, he wondered if that rabbit did any work at all.  They met at the top of the stairs, Isabelle leaning against the wall as if waiting for him.  “Morning Natalie.”  He chirped.  “Sleep well?  Dream about me?  Mmm…..you missed a lot of fun last night.”  The cheeriness dissolved into a sultry purr.
	“No and no.”  Natalie valued his dreams.  He had dreamt of Isabelle once since coming there.  It involved holding his head underwater until there were no more bubbles rising from it.  “I don’t think Regina would agree.  You beat him like a red-maned steplion.”
	“Pppffff.”  Isabelle flicked a paw dismissively.  “That?  That’s nothing.  He’s a tough girl.  So we got a little carried away.  It was all in fun.  He’s fine.  Besides, he doesn’t even have a mane!”  The bunny giggled.  “Can’t help that missing you made me so….frustrated.”  Isabelle clicked closer.  Natalie backed up until his back was against the wall, but Isabelle kept closing the distance.  He pressed the weasel to it, body against body.  He put his arms around him.  “But that’s ok.  We have tonight….”  Natalie’s ears lowered, flattening against his skull.  “And the night after that….and the night after that…gotta break you in.”  The sickening feeling of dread in Natalie’s gut grew with each word that flowed out of the bunny’s mouth.  “…unless you try’n hide behind Regina’s skirts again.”  As he said the word ‘skirts’, his paws slid under Natalie’s.  They explored, running over his rear.
	Natalie’s body tensed up.  His skin crawled whenever Isabelle got handsy.  He knew where those paws had been and he did not like them touching him.  Despite this, the bunny knew where to touch.  Where to rub.  Where to tease.  It felt good, too good, and Natalie felt the front of his panties start to tighten as his arousal grew.  He gritted his teeth.  “I’m done hiding.  You can go where no man’s gone before, but you’re going to have to take it.  It won’t be easy.”
	“Hehe, won’t it?”  The bunny purred.  He leaned in and gave Natalie a kiss, just a brief one.  “Not like you can say no.  I always get what I want from you girls.”  He emphasized the word ‘girls’, just to drive Natalie’s helplessness home.  “But it’s good you’re not gonna hide.  Not gonna make any friends with the other maids like that.”  He leaned up and nipped Natalie’s ear.  He whispered.  “May take a while….but eventually, you’re gonna give that sexy little butt of yours to me willingly.  You won’t be able to get enough big, throbbing bunnyhood.”
	Natalie felt sick.  He felt like stomping on Isabelle until he was a red stain on the carpet.  He felt like burning him into charred bones.  He felt like running away and never coming back.  He felt shamefully aroused from a mix of fear and unwanted touch.  He felt like nuking the mansion from orbit, it was the only way to be sure.  “Get off me before I throw up.”
	“If you do, I’m not cleaning it up.  Don’t be gross, Natalie!”  Isabelle pouted.  It had the desired effect.  He slipped away from him.  “I better let you get to work.  Can’t stay here having you flirt with me all day, you girls got work to do.”
	“I’ll never flirt with you, even if I live to be nine hundred.  Hop into traffic during rabbit season.”  That last one made more sense in Natalie’s head.  Too late to take it back now.
	Isabelle put his paw to his muzzle and giggled.  “Hehe, so silly.  I’ll see you tonight.  I’ll have something special waiting for you too.  Something sexy.”  He wiggled his tail.  “I’ll let you fantasize about it, but it’s gonna be great.”  The bunny winked, then clicked away.  Natalie did not feel better.  If anything, he felt like a man walking to the gallows.  There was no getting away from it and it was going to happen again and again and again.  He was one of the ‘girls’, this was another of his duties.  His arms wrapped around himself and he shuddered.  Fear rippled between his ears, but he had to stay strong.  He was a hero and self-sacrifice could take many forms.  This was just one of the less pleasant ones.

	Natalie threw his attention into his work.  It he kept busy, perhaps he could distract himself from what was to come.  No matter how much he scrubbed, dusted, and polished, Isabelle’s promise was always on his mind.  It was a looming specter over his shoulder.  Every hour that passed, his anxiety grew.  His mind, as if operating on its own, played through scenarios on how it would go over and over.  It never ended well.  Each unwanted fantasy made Natalie shudder in revulsion.  Three hours into his workday, he was dusting outside of Mistress Circe’s room.  His fantasies were getting so strong he could have sworn he heard Isabelle’s voice coming from somewhere far off.  This was followed by Mistress Circe’s voice.  Both of them?  Natalie’s horrible imagination had only conjured Isabelle so far.  He was so distracted that it took him several seconds to realize they were talking nearby, inside of Circe’s room.  He flicked an ear and looked toward the door.  It was very slightly open.  If he leaned in very close, he could hear what they were talking about.  Maybe he could even watch them?  He was curious to see how their dynamic operated when away from their forced maids.  However, if he was caught, he was likely to be reprimanded for it.  Regina warned him that, as bad as Isabelle was when riled, Mistress Circe was far worse.  Her punishments could get very creative and very painful.  Being what he was, Natalie’s curiosity won out over his fear.  Very carefully, he moved toward the door.  He tried to slide his feet so his high heels did not click against the hardwood.  Ears perked, one eye on the open door, he watched and listened.
	Inside, Circe was sitting in a comfortable chair near a large window with a door leading out to a balcony.  She looked the same as she did every time Natalie saw her.  Red evening gown, hair done up in a bun, immaculately groomed.  She had a book on a table next to her, along with a steaming cup of tea.  Or coffee, it was hard to tell from Natalie’s vantage point.  Isabelle was in the room with an empty serving tray held out before him.  “No mistress, I haven’t had my way with Natalie yet.  His week was up yesterday, but I got a better offer.”  He smirked in a coy fashion.
	“I see.”  Circe smiled.  She had looked somewhat tense before, shoulders up and looking alert.  She relaxed at Isabelle’s answer.  “That is a good thing.  You are not to make love to him until I say so.”
	“Yeah.  Tonight’ll be the night.  I can’t…….”  Isabelle blinked.  “……wait.  What?”  The rabbit looked so confused.  His head tilted, his left ear flopped over.  He looked at his mistress like she just told him to stop breathing.  Natalie’s eyes widened.  He heard what Mistress Circe said perfectly well.  His heart sped up.  He clamped a paw over his muzzle to keep from squealing in delight.  If he heard her correctly, she just called her maid off him.  He felt like a man given a stay of execution.
	“An associate of mine knows what he is.  She wishes to….use him according to her purposes.”  Circe smirked as if at a private joke.  “However, she wants him uncontaminated by men.”
	“But…but…but….”  Isabelle almost dropped the serving tray.  It started to tumble from his paws.  Then, his training kicked in and he barely caught it.  “It’s….but it’s part of his training!  I…I waited a week, just like you ask with the new girls!  It’s time.  I…I want him so badly…”
	“There’s no need to raise your voice, Isabelle.  I’m well aware of the….training you give my maids.”  She smiled.  “And I know how much joy it brings you.”  Her eyes softened as she looked to Isabelle.  The look on her face seemed so genuine.  The look of a lover, but one who has complete power over her partner.  Natalie felt his gorge rise in his throat.
	“Mistress…..”  Isabelle whimpered.  His ears lowered and he cast his eyes downward.  “I’m sorry for yelling.  I…I just got excited.”
	“I know.”  Circe raised a paw and beckoned him near.  The rabbit clicked over to her.  He fluffed out his skirts and sat in her lap.  Her arms encircled him, pulling him into an embrace.  He cuddled into her chest, but still did not look at her.  Gently, she lifted his chin and planted a kiss on his lips.  Letting his muzzle go, he laid his head on her shoulder.  “My darling treasure, I deny you very little.  I’ve cared for you for so long.  In you I have the servant I’ve always wanted and given you the purpose you’ve always needed.”  This was not helping Natalie feel any less nauseous.  “I’ve been offered something of immense value for his uncontaminated form.”
	“He’s a virgin back there, mistress…..I want to deflower him.  Please….”  Isabelle almost sounded petulant.  He nuzzled into her neck.
	“I know, darling, I know.  You’ll get your wish.  She will take nothing from him that is yours.  You’ll get your heart’s desire afterward.  I promise you’ll be able to play with him all you like.”  Natalie’s heart started to sink.  “All the deviant thoughts you can conjure you’ll be able to visit upon him.  Make him writhe in the pleasure he’s denied himself trying to be a paragon of virtue.”  She chuckled darkly.  “But you must be patient.  A good servant….”
	“Always puts mistress first.”  Isabelle said lovingly.  He smiled up at her.  “May I ask a question, Mistress?”
	“Of course.”  One of her paws was behind his head.  She was rubbing a spot behind his ears.  Gentle touch in order to keep her bunny calm.
	“How long until she gets what she wants?”  Isabelle looked hopeful.  Natalie was hopeful that her answer would be measured in decades.
	Circe sighed, having the look of someone about to give an answer they knew the questioner would not like.  “Four months.  That is how long it will take for her to return from her present journey.”
	“Four…..four months?”  Isabelle whined.  Four months!  Wonderful!  Natalie smiled.  He planned on being long gone by then.
	“You can wait that long, my dear.”  She reached a paw up to run her fingers through his long, blonde headfur.  “It will make his……’cherry’ as you call it all the sweeter, won’t it?  I know you’re strong enough to hold back.  You have nine other maids to enjoy.  I suggest you use them.”
	Isabelle looked up at her and nodded.  “Yes mistress.”
	“Wonderful.”  She kissed him once more, cuddling him close.  “We haven’t shared a bed in some time.  You will spend the night with me tonight.  I have something to show you……oh, and a bottle of ”  She said something in an indecipherable language.  Natalie had never heard anything like it.  “….with supper.  For us to share.”
	“Hehehe…..”  His ears perked up.  “Thank you mistress.  I….”
	She put a finger to his lips.  “Do not spoil it talking about it.  You have work to do.”  Isabelle nodded and rose from her lap.  As he did, her paw traced up his leg and under his skirts for a gentle caress of his secret parts.  At her touch, he shivered in ecstasy, ears folded back and eyes closed.  It was unsettling.  Should Natalie feel bad for him?  She seemed to own him too.  But, he was far more willing than any of them.  From what he had seen of her, she treated him far differently than the other maids.  He was special.  Her ‘treasure’, as she called him.  The look on her face suggested he was far more than just her maid.  So much for the idea of trying to play them off each other.  Isabelle curtseyed and started to click towards the door.  The weasel almost jumped away from it.  He did not want to seem like he was spying on them, so he tried to look busy.
	When Isabelle left Mistress Circe’s room, he was treated to the sight of Natalie on his tiptoes, dusting a painting of a skunkess atop a mountain, firing lightning at the sky.  Paintings got dusty too, right?  Isabelle started to walk past him.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bunny look at him.  His pleased demeanor from mistress’s company shifted to a scowl when he saw Natalie.  “You’re a lucky, lucky, lucky little weasel.  But your day’s coming, don’t think it isn’t!”  He stormed off.  No flirting.  No inappropriate touching.  No teasing.  Natalie could get used to this.
	“Natalie?  What are you doing out there?”  Came Mistress’s voice from inside the room.  “Come here this instant.”  Natalie’s heart thundered in his chest.  His fur raised and he felt cold.  Was she angry?  He tried to gauge the emotion in her voice.  There was not much there.  It was the same flowing, calm tone she always had.  Always in control, never betraying too much of what she was thinking.  It was part of who she was.  Yet, he was shivering in his skirts.  He should not be this scared of anyone, let alone a sorceress.  He had faced down monsters much more terrifying than her.  That voice calling him filled him with a sense of dread, partially due to the fact that he was doing something he knew she would not like.  There would be consequences and, for now, she had complete control over him.  The collar around his neck felt heavier than ever.  “Must I come out and collect you?”
	“Guh!”  Natalie jumped.  He was delaying.  He straightened up and tried to look brave.  “I’m coming!  Keep your stripes on!”  He shouted back before clicking into the room.
	Mistress Circe had not left her seat.  She did not smile when Natalie entered.  Her gaze traced up and down his form.  It was the kind of appraising look that the weasel could almost feel.  She was scrutinizing him.  “I asked what you were doing, lingering outside of my room.  Be honest.  I’ll know if you’re lying.”
	Natalie swallowed hard.  Do not be afraid.  Be mostly honest, it will be fine.  “I was dusting, just like I’m supposed to.  You have a problem with me doing my job?  The one you gave me?  Not trying to weasel out of it, I swear.”  A half grin slid up one side of his muzzle and he flicked his tail.  Humor could always be utilized as a stand in for courage.
	She did not look amused by his brilliant pun.  A frown creased her muzzle.  “Natalie, don’t try to lie to me with whatever passes for your sense of humor.  I know full well you were eavesdropping on Isabelle and me.  I only asked to give you a chance to own your behavior and apologize for such unbecoming conduct.”
	Natalie cursed inwardly.  She could see right through him.  He tried to play it off.  He shrugged.  “Can’t help what I heard.  You’re the one who left the door open.  Should have closed it if you wanted privacy.”
	Mistress Circe stood up.  Natalie was not expecting it, he had to fight from taking a step back.  Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to run.  “I can do whatever I like with my home.”  Circe began.  “The status of my door is immaterial.  You….”
	“Look, I…..”  Natalie interrupted her to say his peace.
	“Shhhh.”  She interrupted him but pushing a finger to his lips.  It quieted him, but his eyes narrowed.  Putting your finger against the muzzle of any weasel, ferret, or other mustelid was a very good way to get bit.  They were quick to do so and Natalie was no different.  She may have gotten away with it once before, but this time he could not stop himself from making an attempt.  His jaws opened.  With a snap forward, he closed them in a rapid bite.  Before his jaws clicked shut, she pulled her paw back.  She just barely managed to avoid a nasty chomp.  She looked at her paw, then at Natalie and raised an eyebrow.  “Did you…..just try to bite me?”
	Natalie shrugged.  “I was just biting the air.  If your paw was in the way, that’s your own fault.  Shouldn’t get it so close to a weasel’s muzzle.”  He grinned ear to ear, downright smug.  Why did he have this strange sense of foreboding?
	“Hmm…..”  Circe, far from looking scared, smiled.  “Oh ho ho…you really shouldn’t do that.  It’s not good for your teeth.”
	“My teeth?”  As Natalie asked the question, he felt something loosen in the front of his mouth.  As he finished, something came loose and fell out.  Was he drooling?  No, he heard something solid thump on the off-white carpet.  Curious, he looked down.  A small, hard object in uneven white tones lay on it.  It was oblong, with a point near the top and a long root.  An off-cyan colored liquid was on the root.  It looked like a tooth, a fang specifically.  He leaned down to get a closer look.  More things slid from his mouth and joined the first.  They were different shapes, but all had roots covered with the same off cyan liquid.  How very strange.  He ran his tongue over his teeth.  Not all of them were accounted for.  His tongue ran over several holes and picked up the taste of something sweet and slightly metallic.  The taste of blood, his blood.  Natalie’s eyes widened; those really were teeth.  His teeth!  His paws went up and clapped over his muzzle.  Made aware of them, he could feel his gums weaken and open up.  More of his teeth erupted from his jaw, sliding loose inside his mouth once uprooted.  He tried to push them back in with his tongue, but it was useless.  Whenever his panicked tongue brushed one to try, it just came out faster.  He could not hold them in his mouth.  He opened his muzzle.  From it, he disgorged a mass of bloody teeth.  They sat in his paws like a collection of rocks.  Eyes wide and staring, his paws started to shake.  He felt around in his muzzle, but none were left, just bleeding holes.  He fell on his knees.  “My…teef….”  He stammered, cyan blood drooling out of his maw.
	“Yes, your teeth, Natalie.  I simply can’t abide you biting me or my guests.  It’s very, very unladylike.  And rude.  I wouldn’t worry, it’s not like you need them to perform your duties.”  Circe smiled in a sickeningly pleasant way.  “Who knows?  Isabelle might think it an improvement for when he first uses your muzzle.  In four months, of course.”  She was being honest too.  No sense lying about what Natalie overheard.
	Natalie’s ears lowered.  He did not even want to think about that.  There was no way she would leave him like this, too unsightly to have a pretty maid with no teeth.  Plus, he was bleeding on her floor.  Then again, she seemed spiteful enough to do that for the other benefits.  He did try to bite her, after all.  In the past, he heard that toothless muzzles were the best at sucking…..no!  Natalie’s eyes blazed as he glared up at her.  “Push shem bacc.  Gonna lesh me blood schain your carpesh?”  He pointed at the blood on the carpet.  Cyan blood was very difficult to get out of off-white fabric.
	Circe chuckled.  “I don’t mind a few stains.  That’s what I have maids for.  I’m sure you’re do a wonderful job cleaning it up.  And you’ll stop bleeding eventually.”  She walked over to her table as if the conversation was over.  She had a book laying on it, which she picked up as she settled into her chair.  “You may resume your duties now, Natalie.”  She flicked her paw to dismiss him.
	Natalie blinked.  Oh, she was serious?  This was unacceptable!  Natalie stood up and threw his teeth at her.  The scattered, one of them bouncing off her book.  “NO!”  He screamed, spraying bloody spittle in a fine mist.  He spit on her carpet just to drive the point home.
	Circe gave Natalie her undivided attention once more.  The weasel expected her to be a little intimidated by his outburst at bare minimum.  Instead, that condescending smirk reappeared on her muzzle.  “No?”  She chuckled.  “Oh, of course!  I haven’t corrected you for eavesdropping yet.  Thank you for reminding me, Natalie.”  She set her book down.  The tone in her voice was chillingly calm, matter-of-fact.  All of his anger vanished.  It was a useless emotion.  She would not be intimidated by a fairy, bound, collared, and twisted as he was.  She, on the other hand, could intimidate him quite easily.  She raised a paw.  “Since you like eavesdropping so much, perhaps I should let you hear everything in the mansion?”  Natalie’s fight or flight instinct kicked in.  Like prey about to be eaten by a hungry predator, he was ready to run.  He took a half step backward and turned just as Circe gestured.  He never got a chance to run.  
A peculiar itching sensation crept inside both of his ears.  They grew hot, then cooled.  The sudden sensation was enough to halt the run that had not started.  It was not a painful sensation, but what followed was.  It was as if his ears had opened up and sucked in all of the sounds in the entire mansion.  Every footstep echoed in his ears.  Each click of the high heels that the maids wore sounded like a gunshot.  This was multiplied by ten maids, all walking around throughout the mansion, all of which Natalie could hear at once.  His eyes widened and he clapped his paws to his ears.  It did not help at all.  Plugging the holes with his fingers did absolutely nothing to block the sound.  He heard people talking, but it was more accurate to say he heard everyone talking.  It sounded as if they were all in the room with him, standing inches away and screaming their words.  “SoIsaidblueberriesandthemixcleaningMondayFrancisabelleplateflowersbacksidetubpolishpeachrubbingandcat”  It mixed into a chaotic cacophony in which he could not tell where one conversation began and another ended.  So loud!  Natalie fell to his knees and craned his head downward.  He tried to flex his wings to bring them up over his head, but they did not move.  They were still bound, not that they would have helped him.  That was not all.  He heard the wind outside, whipping through the trees with a volume rivaling that of a tornado.  He heard a running faucet in the kitchen as if it was a roaring waterfall.  He heard the folding of clean linen as if it was a jackhammer.  A mop running over the floor sounded like a mudslide.  He gritted his gums and squeezed his eyes shut.  The pain was unbearable.  He expected his eardrums to burst.  Maybe they had?  He felt fluid seeping out of his ears around his fingers, but the intensity of the sounds did not diminish in the slightest.  Tears of pain oozed from the corners of his eyes.  His muscles could no longer support his weight.  Down he went, to the floor with a heavy thud.  His body curled up tightly to try and insulate himself from the sound, which stabbed like knives into his skull.  His head felt like it was about to explode!
“MAKE IT STOOOOOOOP!!”  He screamed.  At least, he thought he screamed.  He could not hear his own voice over everything else.  “STOP!  STOP!”  He repeated, but heard it that time.  Eyes opening, he blinked in confusion.  All the noise, the horrible grinding and banging and shrieking, it was all gone.  He sat up slowly and tried to get his bearings.  It was so quiet.  Was he deaf?  No, probably not.  He heard himself say stop.  “Hello?  This is Natalie.”  While speaking, his tongue brushed against something hard.  He ran it around his mouth and found that all of his teeth had returned.  Quickly, he looked at his paws.  There was not a single drop of blood on his gloves.  The carpet was clean.  No more pain, no more worrying about how to compensate for a lack of proper dentition.  What was that?  It had to have been an illusion.  No, Natalie had been through those before.  They were nothing like this.  It felt so real, painfully real.  It had to have happened.  He was physically unharmed.  He turned his head upwards toward Mistress Circe.  She had gotten out of her chair and walked up to him.  She was looking down at him, smug as ever.  Neither of them spoke for several seconds.  Natalie was the first to break the silence.  “What…..was that?”
“A lesson in doing as you are told, little maid.”  Mistress Circe reached down and caressed one of Natalie’s ears.  “A girl like you should always obey his mistress, should never intrude on her privacy, and she should certainly never try to bite her.  I hope you’ve learned this.”  
Natalie winced at being called a girl.  A part of his mind rebelled at being called that way.  Fear of further punishments made him push it back.  That was not a battle he wanted to fight.  The same part of himself that pushed away his defiance kept him from recoiling at her touch.  He allowed her to play with his soft ears and run her digits through his feminine headfur.  “No…I mean, what did you do to me?”
“I already told you, I corrected you.  Try not to be so obtuse.”  She chuckled.
“I’m not triangle man.”  Natalie flicked his tail in annoyance.  “You know what I meant.  All that damage to my body, you inflicted it in moments and then undid it like it was nothing.  How can you manipulate me like that?”
“Oh, that.  Quite easily.”  She ran her fingers along Natalie’s cheek.  This time, he made no effort to bite her.  “As soon as you came to my mansion uninvited, you gave yourself to me.  Your body is not entirely your own anymore.  I have complete control over it, to shape as I will.”
“What?!”  Natalie pulled away, eyes wide.  “No….that’s not right!  You can’t do this to me!”
“Don’t look so scared.”  Mistress Circe leaned down to look Natalie in the eyes.  The smug expression gave way to a tender smile.  “I reshape you to make you better.  I’m transforming you from a coarse, useless adventurer into a thing of beauty.  You’re one of the girls now, one of my girls.”  There was that word again.  Natalie could not bear to look at her, he looked away.  “Your body’s taking to it well.  Your fur is getting so soft and silken, like a proper lady.  And I’m sure you’ve noticed your breasts are coming in.  You look to be about an A cup now.”
Natalie’s inner ears started to burn with blush.  “I…I hadn’t noticed.  Don’t check myself for breasts much, not a girl.”  That was a lie.  He had noticed.  Two large, sensitive swellings on the front of his chest starting to fill his corset cups.  He was a guy, of course he knew breasts when he saw them.
“Oh?  Well, if you haven’t, do not worry.  They’ll keep getting bigger, much bigger.”  One of her paws went to his left shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.  “That way, you won’t have to be jealous of the other maids.  I think they’ll suit you well.”
Natalie scowled, trying to will himself not to blush and squirm.  Her teasing confused him.  Calling him a thing of beauty, but claiming ownership of him.  She was manipulating him.  “Maybe you can control my body, for now.  But, I’m getting out of here.  I’ll never like what you’ve done to me and will fight it any way I can.  You’ll never own my mind and I’ll NEVER be a girl!”  Natalie thrust his jaw out and glared up at her with the last part.  He fully expected her to be angry.  There were any number of ways she could reach, so he braced himself.
She just chuckled.  Her eyes met Natalie’s.  “You already are, as I have told you.  I’ll train you as I do all of my girls.  You will learn to love it here, they always do once they realize how well I treat you.  By the end, you’ll give everything to me willingly, including your mind.”  She stood up and turned.  As she did, she brushed her tail against Natalie’s muzzle.  For a moment, the scent of jasmine incense and star lilies filled his nose.  It was very nice and Natalie shivered.  For just a moment, he was attracted to her, another sensation to bury.  Before he could respond, she spoke again.  “You should get back to work, Natalie.  You don’t want the other maids to think you’re shirking your duties, do you?”
Natalie’s face tightened, but softened before she could turn around and see him angry.  His heart was beating rapidly.  The events from several minutes ago played in his head.  No, do not defy her again.  It will be painful.  “….yes, mistress.  Of course.”  He said in a slow, deliberate tone.
She raised a paw before Natalie could leave.  “Oh, one more thing.”  Natalie jumped and turned to face her.  His eyes were wide.  Another punishment?  He prepared for the worst.  “Don’t even dream of teasing Isabelle over the next four months.  You shouldn’t take advantage of him.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”  Natalie said as he crossed his arms.  He had briefly considered rubbing this in Isabelle’s face, since he knew the bunny could not have sex with him.  That would have been sure to frustrate him.
“I’m positive you do.  You will act as if you never heard what we spoke of.  There will be…….consequences otherwise.”  A dark smirk spread across her face as she opened her book.
Natalie felt his heart skip.  Be good around the bunny.  Or, at least, not overtly irritating.  “Yes mistress.”  He quickly spoke before retreating from the room.  The pain still fresh in his mind, he wanted to put a lot of distance between the skunk and himself.  At least he did not have to clean the rug anymore.

For the rest of the day, Natalie worked in a careful fashion, fearing getting Mistress Circe’s attention again.  He did not see Isabelle throughout.  There was no doubt he was still a little annoyed at having to exercise patience.  No doubt he was off sulking somewhere.  There was no reason to complain about that at all.  Natalie almost enjoyed cleaning without the flirtatious interruptions.  It helped pass the time until supper.
When supper came, he ate in the library with the other four sane maids.  Sharing a meal with like-minded individuals gave him a little more hope.  They accepted him.  He felt as welcome as he had anywhere, fellow prisoners eager for the day they would all be free.  His body, being used to the perfume, being around them was no longer distracting.  It was amazing how much easier it was to talk without his brain in a constant fog of arousal.  As they talked, their conversation shifted to how their days went.  They went around the room, sharing the mundane indignities that made up their lives.  Natalie kept quiet, trying to focus on his meal.  He was not sure how readily he should share what happened to him.  It might be because he was still a little embarrassed that Regina stuck his neck out for him the night before.  Circe’s punishments to him were extreme.  Sharing them might horrify the other maids.  It was possible they had already suffered through similar ones.
While Natalie was lost in thought, the conversations around him quieted.  He noticed the silence and looked up.  Everyone was looking at him.  Had someone asked him a question.  He blinked in confusion.  Regina leaned forward.  “I said, are you all right, Natalie?  Did something happen today?”  The lion asked.  His red painted lips had a slight frown, his eyebrows arched.
Natalie nodded.  “I’m fine…but, well….”  His ears lowered, memories coming back to him.  They were still fresh.  They had a right to know.  “Something did happen…..”  Natalie took time to explain what happened in Mistress Circe’s room.  They listened, patiently letting him tell them everything.  To Natalie’s displeasure, none of them looked surprised when he described his teeth falling out and his painful experience with sound amplification.  They all leaned in when he talked about the conversation between Mistress Circe and Isabelle.  The other four maids exchanged wide-eyed glances when the fairy maid finished.
“That’s….never happened before.”  Regina broke the silence.  He slid his chair closer to Natalie.
“Four months.  That’s pretty lucky.”  Beatrice added.  “I’d be thankful for four days without having to worry about that disgusting rabbit taking me to his room for ‘playtime’.”  The horse sneered.  
Natalie blushed a little bit.  It seemed like he was a little jealous of Natalie.  It made him feel bad.  It really was not anything special he did to earn it.  “I didn’t try for it.  It just happened.”
“I’m not sure if it’s lucky at all.”  Francine interjected.  “She wouldn’t do this without a good reason for it.”  He looked at Natalie.  “You said that she was doing this to save you for someone.  They wanted you ‘uncontaminated by men’.  Right?”  Natalie nodded.  “Use you for her purposes….what does that even mean?”
“I don’t like the sound of it.”  Catherine wrapped his arms around himself.  “Some stranger wanting you for who knows what?  Some of Mistress Circe’s friends are….”  Catherine shivered.  “I don’t want to sound mean, but they scare me.   Some seem decent, but some are really creepy.  And for her purposes?  I know mistress won’t let her really hurt you…..permanently….but anything else goes.  Could get weird.”
Natalie swallowed hard.  “Hey, no one’s normal, right?  How bad could they be?”  He stated with a nervous shrug.  He got four dead-eyed stares in response.
“Depends on which one, like Catherine said.”  Regina replied.  “You’ll find out first time she puts on one of her parties.  At least you have four months of not having to worry about getting snatched up by one of them.”
Natalie’s shoulders slumped.  “That means….”  Natalie stood up.  “No way!”  He slammed a fist down on the table hard enough to rattle the silverware.  “You’re….”
“She says she’s a good hostess, not denying her guests the use of her maids.”  Regina said with a derisive chuckle.  “Why make all your maids into sex objects if you’re not going to whore them out?”
“….that isn’t right.”  Natalie felt like someone put a weight over his heart.  His entire person sagged under the heft of the reality the other maids faced.  Not just them, but him too.  The only difference is they had endured it longer.  Years.  Natalie was not always the most empathetic weasel.  He was quick to defend the downtrodden, protect the innocent, rescue the imperiled.  He was not always able to feel the burdens of those he gave aid.  He felt it now.  The rims of his eyes filled with tears.  He blinked to try and keep them from falling.
“No, it’s not.”  Catherine sighed.  He rose from his chair and clicked toward Natalie.  He must have sensed the weasel was feeling weak.  Or, maybe he was feeling weak himself?  Natalie looked at him, seeing he looked ready to cry too.  He was still hugging himself.  “But, we have each other, right?  And we’re not going to have to do this forever.”
Natalie nodded.  Feeling compelled to do so, he reached out and hugged the mouse tight.  He was not sure he really wanted to, but it felt like the right thing to do.  Catherine did not stiffen up, he did not try to pull away.  He wrapped his arms around Natalie and buried his face in his shoulder.  “You’re gonna be ok.”  He felt a slight wetness on his shoulder.  Catherine really was crying.
“That’s my line.”  The mouse spoke so softly, barely a whisper.  “You’ll be ok too.  I can tell you’re strong.”
“Yeah, ok…don’t need to keep complimenting me.  You know mice guys finish last.”  Natalie’s tail perked up and wagged, his go-to response when he made a ‘good’ pun.
Catherine froze up.  The other three maids, who had been watching the spectacle, all stared.  They looked like they did not get it.  Too subtle?  Then, he heard Catherine giggle.  He pulled back and thumped Natalie on the shoulder with one of his delicate fists.  “You idiot!”  He said before the giggle became a laugh.
“You’re the one who laughed.”  Natalie grinned and dipped into an overly elaborate curtsey.  “I’m here all night!  Tip your waitress!”  This prompted a few head shakes and amused smiles from the other three.
“I think we needed that.”  Regina said.  “At least we got some good news.  No Isabelle tonight.  He’ll be with mistress.”  That prompted even more smiles all around.  They resumed their meal with lighter hearts.  And, sure enough, when seven o’ clock rolled around, Isabelle was nowhere to be found.  They did not see him all night.

7)

	For Natalie, one day was more or less the same as the next.  Get up, dress, work, eat your meals, visit with the other maids, clean up, go to bed.  For about a week after he learned of his four-month reprieve, he saw very little of Isabelle.  The bunny almost seemed to be avoiding him.  When their paths did cross, Isabelle made no effort to talk to him.  As nice as that was, it was not permanent.  Before long, the white rabbit resumed his flirting and unwanted touch.  It was like the first week all over again, except with Isabelle promising to play with him in months rather than days.  He was keeping track, eagerly counting down until Natalie was his.  Now the weasel had two things to be worried about at the end of four months.
	As nice as it was to be safe from the darker aspects of Isabelle’s lust, there was an unpleasant side to it.  Even though he could not have Natalie, Isabelle still took a maid to bed with him each night.  Being a creature of habit, he always arrived at seven in the evening.  He always showed up with a color-coded leash to correspond with the maid he planned on taking.  Most nights, he approached the maids Natalie associated with.  Every night he did, Natalie had to watch them get led away.  Their shoulders were always slumped in mute despair.  As happy as he was that it was not him, it bothered him that it had to happen at all.  The feelings of guilt kept building each time he was passed over.  It seemed like Isabelle was purposefully targeting his friends.  The bunny was not blind, he could see how close they were getting.  Maybe his intent was to create animosity between them?  The thought scared Natalie.  He had to wonder if the whole situation was causing the other maids to resent him.  What made him so special that he gets four rape free months?  Fearful thoughts stewed in him until he finally asked Regina what if they were starting to hate him for it.  He knew he would get an honest answer out of the lion and he knew the other ‘girls’ better than he did.  Regina seemed genuinely surprised by the question.  Resenting his good fortune had never occurred to him.  That made the weasel feel better.  Then, the lion told him he was more worried about what Mistress Circe had planned for him after his reprieve was over.  That did not.
	Natalie ran into Mistress Circe more often than the other maids.  He was not sure if it was intentional, but their paths intersected frequently.  Their conversations were always brief.  A critique of his work or a comment on how ‘beautiful’ he looked in his uniform was all she had to say.  After all, what else would the mistress of the house have to talk about with ‘the help’?  Every time he saw her, his mind flashed back to the pain she inflicted on him.  His heart raced whenever she was around.  Anger and fear.  That she was actually genial with him confused him.  Despite himself, her compliments about his body made him blush.  He hated that his hips were getting so plump, his breasts so large, his fur so soft.  He hated the feminization of his features and how every article of his clothing was designed to tease and flirt.  If she had turned him feral, even into a female version of a feral, he could have handled that.  But this?  This was disgusting.  So, when she was tender with him, when she called him a ‘beautiful girl’, why did he blush and feel a giddy little thrill?  He was always flustered when she left.  She had to be doing this on purpose, watching him to see how he was progressing.  Or, maybe to make sure he was not having any hot, man on man sex on the side?  As if Natalie would ever do that.  He briefly considered trying to get one of the other maids to mount him, just to ruin her plans.  Very, very briefly, about half a second.  As great as it would be to mess up whatever she had planned, that price was not one Natalie wished to pay.

	A little over a month after Natalie had arrived, he was cleaning the floor of the lounge.  He had his mop, he had his bucket of oil soap, both of which he was familiar with using even before he was captured.  Just because was a single guy did not mean he was dirty.  Normally, mopping was relatively easy. His changing body made it harder.   His breasts were a D cup and still growing.  Even though they came in gradually, he was not used to their weight.  He was more prone to losing his balance in his high-heels.  Whenever he leaned forward, he felt like they were pulling him down.  They made his corset feel even tighter.  At least the garment kept the large breasts from hurting his back.  His hips and rear end had plumped up.  His backside felt rounder than any weasel’s should.  He felt it bounce and sway when he walked and just knew his fluffy skirts were barely covering it.  He tried to keep his tail down to avoid showing his rear, but that just created further balance problems.
	As if stumbling around like a sex doll forced into cleaning duty was not bad enough, he was not alone in the room.  Mistress Circe was there, reading one of her many books written in a language Natalie did not recognize.  She must have kept them somewhere private.  He never saw her reading any books from the maids’ library.  Nearly all the books in there were trashy romance novels, with a few classics mixed in.  Even though her attention was on her book, he knew she was watching him.  He would have moved on to a different room, but it would have taken extra time.  He would have to move all of his supplies, clean the other area, then come back to this room later.  He was already behind schedule.  While the other maids would help him if he asked, he did not want to put even more burdens on them.  They had put up with enough trouble for his sake.  So, he cleaned, feeling mistress’s eyes on him whenever he turned or bent.  He was getting pretty flustered as he mopped.  At one point, his left heel slid on the oil soap.  He turned, trying to rebalance and catch himself so he did not fall.  He succeeded in not tumbling on his rear, but his tail swung.  The errant appendage knocked into an elaborately painted vase containing a cluster of red roses.  It was very light, too light to fight against Natalie’s mighty tail.  It tilted, tumbled off the end table, and fell.  Frozen up, Natalie’s eyes followed it as it landed on the floor.  The delicate porcelain did not just break, it shattered, spraying fragments across the floor.  The noise was enough to make Mistress Circe’s head snap up from her book.  Natalie did not move a muscle, but he knew she saw the broken decoration.  Maybe she would think it fell down on its own?  “Natalie, you clumsy girl.  That vase was a gift.”  Of course she knew it was him; the weasel was not that lucky.  She did not sound angry, but that was no guarantee she was calm.
	“Sorry mistress, I’ll clean it up.”  If Natalie got to work making it right, he might be able to avoid punishment.
	Mistress Circe rose from her chair and walked toward Natalie.  Her high heels barely made a sound as she clicked toward him.  It was the kind of light step that could only come from years of practice.  “You really need to be more careful.  I can’t have you knocking about like a ham-fisted brute.  You’ve broken something quite valuable.  All you have to say about it is ‘sorry’?  Really?”  Again, no anger, not a hint of it in her voice.
	Natalie’s inner ears heated up.  His muzzle flushed.  She was talking down to him and he did not like it.  “Couldn’t help it.  It’s hard cleaning in this stupid uniform.  It’d be a lot easier if you didn’t make us prance around in corsets and high heels.  What do you expect?  I’m surprised you don’t have more broken stuff lying around!”
	The skunk sighed.  “Stupid?  They’re made of the finest silk and lace.  They were crafted to show your developing beauty, a job they do quite well.  I hear nothing but compliments about them from my guests, and notice all the lustful glances they cast towards you girls.”  Circe smiled.  Natalie’s face grew even hotter.  He felt it creeping up his tail, causing the fur to bristle all the way up to the tip.  “It’s the perfect uniform for a maid.  It’s what you are, what you were meant to be.”  One of her paws traced her chin and she smiled.  “As for the discomfort, a lady should be willing to put up with it for beauty’s sake.  The other maids have adjusted.  You will too.”
	“Don’t see you trotting around in this garbage.  Why don’t you lead by example?”  Natalie smirked, hoping that would provoke the skunk.
	It did not.  She put a paw to her muzzle and chuckled.  “Oh ho ho….silly girl.  I’m not a servant.  I’m the lady of the house.  The standard I hold myself to is far different than that of a simple maid.  I’m above you and you belong to me.”
	Natalie’s paws twitched.  He felt the blood pulsing behind his eyes.  He had to try hard not to lunge at her.  That sort of thing would be put down quick.  Control your temper, Natalie.  He imagined himself in his normal body, at his normal size.  A small, slightly feminine, but unmistakably masculine fairy.  He pictured himself flying at Mistress Circe like a bullet with his axe drawn.  She would try to counter him, but he was ready this time.  The strike would be so hard and fast that he would break right through her, leaving a hole in her torso the size of a watermelon.  The anger vanished and Natalie smiled.  “You may be able to keep me here now, but you won’t forever.  When I weasel my way out of here, I’m taking all the other maids with me.”  Natalie’s tail wagged.
	Mistress Circe flicked a paw.  “Of course, Natalie.  That’s assuming you won’t want to stay.”
	During their conversation, Natalie had clicked over to another part of the room.  He was standing next to another end table, this with a sculpture of a skunk on it.  One item was broken already, he might as well go for more.  “I’d rather have my gums scraped.”  One of his paws nudged against the skunk statuette.  He looked at Mistress Circe to gauge her reaction, make sure she was still watching him.  Good, he had her attention.  He started to push it.  The figure felt rather light, meaning it was probably breakable.
	“Natalie, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”  Her tone was calm, even.  She did not sound fearful at all, to Natalie’s disappointment.  She must not have thought he would do it.
	Time to prove her wrong.  A flick of the wrist and the figure was off the table.  It tumbled in the air on its way down.  Circe made no move to stop its descent.  It landed head first on the floor.  The neck was the first thing to crack.  The head split off and sent shards of whatever material it was made of in one direction, with the head skidding across the floor in the other.  The body followed, splintering and breaking.  It did not shatter into as many pieces as the vase, but broke into enough to satisfy the weasel.  Natalie looked down at the fractured limbs and broken tail of the former statue.  When he looked up at Circe, he was smiling.  “Oops.  Clumsy me, tee hee.”  He put a paw to his cheek in mock embarrassment.
	Far from looking angry, Circe smiled.  “So, is that how this will be?”  Natalie was already walking toward another room decoration.  Sculptures and vases were fun to break, but wanted something different for his next target.  There was a painting on the wall that he found particularly irritating.  It was a Renaissance styled picture depicting a skunkess and bunny, both in fancy dress, dancing together.  So many skunks all over this mansion, a sign that Circe held her species in very high regard.  The collar around Natalie’s neck warmed up while he walked toward the painting.  The sensation was enough to stop the weasel in his tracks.  He braced himself for a punishment of some kind, pain or losing limbs.  The collar cooled down, nothing happened.  He looked back at Circe, who had not moved from her spot.  She raised a finger and shook it at him.  “I would not do that if I were you.”  She warned.
	“Good thing you’re not me.”  Natalie grinned and reached for the painting.  The sensation must have been his imagination.  He lifted the painting from the wall.  A good toss to the ground would probably not break it enough.  Some good stomps and foot drags were what he would utilize to damage the canvas.  It looked like his high heels were good for something after all.  He raised the work of ‘art’ above his head and prepared to heave it.  He threw it on the ground as hard as he could, really putting his back into it.  It hit the floor hard.  The frame cracked and it fell painting side up.  
Natalie never had a chance to start stomping on it.  As soon as it hit the ground, pain shot through Natalie’s legs.  Sharp, crushing pain coursed through his bones, from his feet to his knees to his hips and up his spine.  It felt as though someone tossed him off of a skyscraper and he landed on his feet.  The weasel could do nothing but scream and fall to the floor.  The sensation of every bone in his lower half simultaneously shattering overwhelmed his senses.  For all Natalie knew, his legs had vanished.  He did not try to move them.  They could have been gone, crushed into powder and blown away.  Obliterated, leaving the phantom sensation of crushed limbs burned into his memory.  He tried to squeeze his eyes shut and fight the pain away.  It seemed to be working.  The sensation started to fade.  The roar of pain softened gradually.  From a scream to a whisper, then it was gone entirely.  The weasel lay on the ground, panting and staring up at the ceiling.  Moving might make the pain start all over again.  He craned his head up to look down at his legs, slowly.  He could not see them over the swell of his breasts and the volume of his skirts.  Indignity on top of pain.  Slowly, he reached a paw down to feel if they were still there.  His fingers ran over soft fur atop a plump thigh.  He felt it, the sensation of touch rather than pain.  Before he even attempted to stand up, he flexed and moved his feet to make sure they were still working.  He felt them move easily, no signs of any persistent damage.  Nothing indicated moving his legs would put him in pain.  They only felt like they had been crushed and what a real sensation it was.  He stood up slowly, carefully.  They were the kind of movements someone used when they felt their legs could give out at any moment.  He expected them to do just that, snap like dry reeds and send him to the ground, writhing in agony.  After a couple of minutes, he was finally upright.  He flexed his feet, stood on his toes and bent his knees.  The joints had to be tested to see if they could bear weight.  The bones were all functioning as they should.  Natalie looked at Circe.  She watched the entire scene unfold in silence.  Actually, it would have been easy for him to miss something if she said it.  He would not have been able to hear her over his screaming.  Her right paw was on her chin, a smile on her muzzle.  She looked very pleased with herself.  It did not take someone of advanced intelligence to figure out that she had done something to him.
“I hope you’re not still thinking about damaging that painting, Natalie.”  Even Circe’s voice sounded smug.
“What did you do to me?”  The weasel replied.  He knew when he was the target of a spell and he wanted an explanation.  He tried to sound intimidating.  A fearful quiver crept into his voice.  It undermined any steadfastness he attempted to project.  After what had just happened, anyone would be scared.
“You noticed?  Wonderful.”  Circe took a step toward Natalie.  He took a step back to keep the same distance between them.  “Since you seemed so determined to damage my property, I decided it best to add another enchantment to your collar.”  Another step forward for her, another back for Natalie.  “Every time something breaks in whatever room you are in, the collar will share that sensation with you.”
“W-what?”  Natalie’s eyes widened.  She advanced on him again, but his back was against the wall.  He flattened himself against it.
“You heard me the first time and I don’t like to repeat myself.  Just know that the pain is proportional to the severity of whatever you damage.  What you felt just now?  That was from a splintered picture frame.”  She chuckled.  “It can get much worse.”
Natalie shrank against the wall.  “That…..that’s not…..”  The reality of the enchantment hit the weasel.  Even in theory, it was terrifying.  “What if it’s an accident?  Or someone else I’m in the room with knocks something over?”
“All the more reason for you to be extra careful and learn how to carry yourself with the grace and poise of a proper girl.”
Natalie was not sure that was even possible.  He felt clumsy.   Darker possibilities for this enchantment whirled through his mind.  He had to get her to take it off of him.  His ears flattened against his skull.  He tried to avoid eye contact with her to appear as meek and submissive as possible.  Maybe he could beg his way out of this?  “Please, mistress, please remove the enchantment.  I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for being insolent and breaking your stuff.  I’m not sure what came over me, but it will never happen again.  I’ll treat everything in your mansion with as much respect as I treat you….er…”  Bad example.  “I mean…uh, I’ll start respecting everything here like it was…precious.  I’ll be good, just please disenchant me.  I’m really very sorry.”  He looked up at her, finally meeting her eyes with his.  Natalie tried his best to look repentant.
“Hm.”  Circe met his gaze, but there was no kindness in her eyes.  “No.”  Natalie’s shoulders slumped.  “It’s entirely possible that you’re genuinely sorry, Natalie, but I think you still need some correction.  You’re the type of girl to have a very insolent, fiery temper.  You need it in case it gets the better of you again.”
“But…but..”  Natalie’s tail hung to the floor.  He thought of the other maids, the ones that loved their skunk and rabbit overlords.  “If the other maids find out about this, they might break things on purpose to get me to do…..things.”  It would not be the first time Natalie had been blackmailed for sexual favors.  Only, this time, it might actually work.  That pain was unlike anything he had felt before.
“They’ll do nothing of the sort.  It’s in the best interest of all of you to clean my home properly.  There are consequences for all of you if it is not up to my standards.”
That information did not make Natalie feel any better.  It looked more and more like the enchantment was there to stay.  His heart fluttered.  He had to fight to keep panic out of his mind.  “I…uh, I can’t do anything if my legs are broken!  Please, please mistress, don’t leave me like this!”  His voice cracked, becoming elevated.
Circe raised a paw to the weasel’s cheek.  He cringed as if she were about to strike him.  Instead, the paw caressed him.  “Natalie, don’t be afraid.  You will be fine.  I don’t correct you out of any malicious intent.  I do it because I care about all of my girls.  You need to learn how to conduct yourselves properly and this is the only way.  You’ll learn to love serving, as a proper maid should.”  Her fingers traced over Natalie’s cheek and played with his whiskers.  It was not unpleasant.  Even though it felt wrong, he could not pull away.  “Besides, I would never harm you in any way that I could not undo.  You’re perfectly safe.”  She drew back her paw.  “Resume your cleaning duties in another room.  I have some decorations to repair.  I would admonish you to be more careful in the future, but I know you will.”  She took a step back, enough space to let Natalie up off the wall.
“Y-yes mistress!”  He nodded quickly.  He practically catapulted himself off of the wall to gather his cleaning supplies.  She gave him permission to leave and he was not about to turn that down.  Once he had his supplies, he scurried from the room to the next one on his chore list.
During his chores, he mulled over the events in the lounge.  After reviewing the entire event only once in his mind, he realized something.  Mistress Circe’s comment about ‘never damaging him in a way that she could not undo’ stuck out.  Grimly, he realized that left many punishment options wide open.  Very, very painful options.  He might need to behave himself a lot more while he worked on a way to get out of here.  It was not something he was going to relish.

8)

	Natalie looked at himself in the mirror.  A stranger, familiar and unfamiliar, looked back.  It had been a little over two months since he arrived in the world’s fanciest prison and the changes to his body were supposed to be complete.  The person staring back at him in the mirror did not seem like himself, but it had to be.  There was no other way to think about it.
	The weasel was no longer a weasel.  In the mirror, Natalie saw a trim, effeminate mouse.  The mouse had all of his markings, all the right fur coloration that made him unique.  Silvery fur, a green mask around his eyes.  The green X was still on his chest, although it was stretched by his breasts.  They had reached a ridiculous double D cup in size.  They were big enough that he was not sure if he would ever get used to their weight.  The shape of his body had changed.  Even when not wearing his corset, he was quite trim.  His stored fat seemed focused around his hips and backside, creating an hourglass figure.  Being a mouse, Natalie was more petite than the other maids, but he still had curves.  It was the kind of figure Mistress Circe seemed to enjoy.   And his fur?  It had never been softer, smoother, fluffier.  Fur like his was made to be enjoyed by others.  It invited touch, mostly caresses and cuddles.  It covered most of his body.  Being a special sort of mouse, he had no fur on his paws.  His tail was mostly furless, but had a tuft of it at the tip.    Even the furless parts complimented the rest of his body.  Rather than look odd, the cyan flesh on his paws and tail added a certain cuteness to him.  Demure, delicate little paws for an adorable maid.  Paws like that would be embarrassing to have for a hero like him.  At least Natalie would be wearing gloves most of the time.
	The mouse girl looking back at Natalie was very pretty.  Before coming here, he would have found such a girl difficult to resist.  Cute, curvy, quick with a smile.  In his fantasies, this was the sort of girl he would want to indulge in many of his desires with.  As a weasel, he would have gleefully given her a full tour of his inner workings, eating her in one gulp like the delicate morsel she was.  The scent of chocolate and mint mingling in her fur would make her seem all the more like a sumptuous treat.  A little cupcake of a mouse girl that he could enjoy to his heart’s content.  Of course, he would not turn down an excuse to have plain, regular sex with her.  That kind of beauty you could enjoy in several different ways.  However, the girl in the mirror was not a girl.  There was only one thing that betrayed the feminine.  It was just a hint of masculinity, but could not be ignored.  The bulge in the front of his panties gave away what he really was.  They were quite snug these days, a consequence of his plump hips and firm, rounded buttocks.  That just drew more attention to the male parts, ones that he knew his skirts were too short to fully hide.  It would have been bad enough if this was a surprise he found in a lover.  It was much worse that this was his body.  He was the mouse girl.  This appearance just cemented his status as a plaything.  All he could do was stare.  He turned, moving a paw down to hide the bulge in his crotch.  Despite himself, he started to become aroused at the beautiful mouse girl, clad in tight panties and a lovely corset that barely contained those full, bouncy breasts.  Arousal gave way to disgust.  Or, maybe it was shame?
	Natalie left the bathroom.  He had spent too long staring in the mirror at what he had become.  Most of the changes had come gradually.  The shift from weasel to mouse happened overnight.  Part of him was angry, as he knew what that signified.  He was losing confidence.  His body, sensing that, had reverted back to a meeker form.  It was a signal from his body that Mistress Circe was affecting his mind more than his thought.  Perhaps it was even a warning?  What he did know was that the skunk pushed him into this.  His cheeks flushed with anger.  An image of him stabbing her directly in the brain came to mind.  He would go in through her ear with a nice, sharp knife.  His anger quickly faded to another feeling, fear.  Memories of pain came rushing to the forefront.  Displeasing or defying mistress brought pain, and pain was to be avoided at all costs.  The thoughts of violence against his mistress quickly faded, replaced by a want to stay on her good side.  All of this happened in his head in a matter of seconds.  When the mouse realized this, he felt all the more disgusted with himself.  Being terrified into obedience?  It was no wonder he turned back into a mouse.
	Not wanting to mentally berate himself any further, he got busy getting ready for the day.  He did his makeup, brushed his long, girly hair, put on his perfume.  He got out his uniform, but did not put it on.  He glanced at the unused bed in his room.  A few days ago, Nancy had disappeared.  It was strange and troubling, but Natalie was kind of glad he was gone.  It was not that he wanted anything bad to happen to him.  Nancy was not a terrible person, just brainwashed and oversexed.  Being a mouse around a strangely attractive cat, however, would just make Natalie’s feelings all the more confused.  He had a dream the previous night.  In it, he was his normal size, but still in this body.  A tiny little mouse maid, in the presence of a female cat maid that looked suspiciously like Nancy.  She ravished him, showering him in affection.  Her tongue must have run over every inch of his little body before she finally indulged his kinks and sexual appetite.  Natalie had sex dreams in the past, but this one was particularly intense.  He could feel all of it, every touch, every kiss.  He could feel himself sliding down her throat.  Feel her stomach as it worked and caressed his secret parts.  When the dream was finished, he finally woke up.  Through the haze of sleep, he noticed something.  His panties were soaking wet with his seed.  He was very happy to be alone, with no one to witness him doing something that typically only happened to oversexed teenagers.  Nancy looking like the cat of his dreams and being right there would not have helped.  If he was still around, it would have made it all the harder for Natalie to resist his flirting.  As much as he enjoyed not being flirted with, he was still a hero.  People did not just vanish.  Mistress Circe and Isabelle were deliberately obtuse whenever he asked them about it.  Something happened to him.  He could not prove it, but Natalie had the feeling it was something sinister.
	There was not enough time in the day for Natalie to spend ruminating.  He had work to do.  With no roommate, he had to go see one of the other maids to get his corset done up.  So, every morning, he would visit Regina while still in his underwear, carrying the rest of his uniform in his paws.  As soon as he left his room, a dark blush glowed from underneath of his cheeks.  Even for someone used to being naked, it was embarrassing walking around in nothing but underwear.  He took some comfort in the fact that he rarely encountered anyone while in transit.
	After getting dressed with Regina and Beatrice, he said his morning prayers and joined the rest of the maids for breakfast.  They had started taking it in the dining room.  Nancy was not the only maid who disappeared.  Rhoda and Winifred were gone.  They left behind the same amount of information about what happened to them as Nancy had.  Of the maids who seemed to enjoy their treatment, having completely lost their minds, only Gloria and Penelope remained.  Natalie rarely saw them, they kept to themselves.  It was like they did not trust the ‘mean girls’ as they had taken to calling the maids that still hoped to leave this prison.  Regina seemed to think that the likelihood of them vanishing increased with how much love and affection they showed toward Mistress Circe.  He tried to warn them of this, but it always resulted in them screaming at him.  Natalie was not sure why he did not just give up.  They were not going to be there much longer.
	With all of the openings, that meant Mistress Circe had been recruiting.  Jennifer had come first, about a month ago.  He was a kangaroo of typical coloration.  His black headfur had a white streak running through it, which was probably why he had been assigned black maid outfits with white lace trim.  He always seemed nervous and every movement he made was awkward.  There was no getting used to the uniform for him.  He was always stumbling, exposing himself, and blushing.  Isabelle seemed to love it, but the rest of the maids felt bad for him.  He was slowly opening up to them.  His girlfriend of several years was a frequent topic he visited.  He was all set to marry her and getting ready to propose.  While he did miss her, he was happy she could not see him like this.  Regina was always quick to reassure him, as was Natalie.  The mouse told him to hold on to those memories as hard as he could.  They’d all be free before he knew it.  Natalie just hoped he was right.
	The other new maid was Stephanie, a tawny cat with black ringlet curls atop his head, clad in dark yellow maid finery.  He had only been there a couple of days, so he was eating separate from everyone else.  Beatrice was with him today.  Natalie did not envy the horse.  Stephanie was some kind of college professor, a big shot in his own mind.  He was a complainer and was outraged he was being kept here against his will, as a servant, no less.  This sort of work was beneath a man as educated as he.  The complaints never stopped coming from his muzzle when he was around the other maids.  Natalie noticed he got much quieter around Isabelle.  Something told him that Stephanie had been taught a lesson for being so mouthy.  He hoped that, with time, he would calm down enough to listen to the rest of them.  Right now, he still thought he knew better.
	Everyone was a little surprised to see Natalie’s abrupt species change.  He had to quickly reassure them that Mistress Circe did not directly do this to him.  That seemed to calm them down.  The changes they had been through were bad enough; it could be downright panic inducing to think the skunk would swap their bodies out for something completely new.  He explained to them that this was just how his body worked.  They did not ask any more detail than that and Natalie did not feel like giving it.  Magic was still reasonably foreign to all of them, so he was not sure he could have explained it even if he tried.  For their part, even if they did not fully get it, they were still there for him.  They saw that he was still the same guy, even though his shell changed a little.  He was thankful for that.
	He was less thankful for Isabelle’s reaction.  The bunny saw him while he was gathering linens from the guest rooms for washing.  He was doing his usual rounds, checking up on all the maids for his own reasons.  Possibly to keep tabs on them, possibly just to flirt.  When he stepped into the room, his eyes met Natalie’s.  The mouse froze up, not moving.  Maybe if he stayed completely still, Isabelle would lose interest and go away?  “Natalie?  Is….that you?”  No such luck.  The bunny tilted his head to the side, looking curious.  Natalie tried to ignore him and continued stuffing sheets into his laundry basket.  “Don’t give me the cold shoulder.  I know you can hear me.”  Natalie winced, but kept working.  “That question was rhetorical anyway.  It couldn’t be anyone else.  I just wanna know how it happened.”
	Natalie sighed.  He knew Isabelle would not leave him alone until he talked to him.  He should have been glad the bunny did not punish him for ignoring a question.  He set down the laundry basket and smoothed out his skirts before answering.  Knowing Isabelle, he was going to get handsy soon and he did not want to upend the basket.  There was enough to do today without needing to regather spilled linen.  “Yes, it’s me.  It’s complicated.  It would take too much time for me to explain what happened, so just let it go.  I’m a mouse, squeak squeak.  Can I get back to work now?”
	“So, you don’t know, then?  Fine, fine.  Some things in life are a mystery.”  The bunny giggled and clicked up to Natalie.  “You’re cuter like this anyway.”  He put a paw to his chin in mock thoughtfulness.  “Although, I’m having trouble deciding if you or Catherine is the cuter mouse.”
	“I’m sure I don’t care.  Please go away.”  Despite not caring, Natalie was blushing.  When he was in his mouse form, being called ‘cute’ did that.  He was adorable, after all.
	Isabelle did not find that answer good enough.  He got even closer.  “Hm….I don’t know.  Might have to have you both model for me to figure it out.”  He walked around behind Natalie, circling him like a predator.  Natalie closed his eyes.  Experience had taught him what was coming next.  He tried to mentally distance himself from it.  Unsurprisingly, he felt Isabelle’s paw on his tail.  The bunny lifted it up to get a better view of what was under Natalie’s skirts.  Predictable.  “Still have a cute butt.  I think you have Catherine beat there.  He’s so skinny, and I like the full-figured girls better.  You’re pleasantly plump.”  Natalie made a face, but said nothing.  Not feeding into it was the only thing he could do.  There was no fighting Isabelle.  The bunny’s paw went under Natalie’s skirts.  He closed his eyes and tried to picture himself back home, relaxing in his den.  That agile paw teasingly groped at Natalie’s rear, pressing and kneading the cheeks.  “Mmm….a very, very cute butt.  So round and bouncy.”  He gave it a firm squeeze to try and get Natalie to jump, but the mouse stayed completely still.  “Nothing to say?  Not even a whimper?”  Isabelle sounded like he was pouting.  “All right, fine.  Be that way.”  The paw withdrew.  Natalie relaxed; the danger had passed.  “You’re just frigid cause my training’s delayed.  In another two months, you’re gonna be mine.”
	“Nope.  I’m going to be gone.  And, once I get free, I’m going to find a way to get back here and burn this whole place to ashes, invent a way to burn ashes, and then burn the ashes.”  Natalie grinned and wagged his tail.  “I’m going to make an ash out of all of you.”  He did not curse; the collar would not punish him.
	Isabelle stepped in front of the mouse.  Despite his frustration, he was smiling.  He leaned in until his muzzle was an inch away from Natalie’s.  “Hehe, nope nope.  You’ll be in my bedroom….dressed in the skimpiest lingerie I can find.  I’m gonna have four months of frustration worked up by then.  Gonna give you a night you’ll never forget….”  He gave Natalie a kiss.
	When Isabelle’s lips met his, Natalie could not keep himself from pulling back.  It made him feel contaminated.  For someone who never cursed, Isabelle had a very dirty mouth.  “You’re going to be disappointed when it never happens.  Stop kissing me.  It’s disgusting.”
	“Hehe, I know you really like it.  You’ll like it even more when I deflower you….have you begging for more...”  Isabelle could not resist going in for another kiss.  Natalie had to submit to it.  This time, he felt his tongue flick against his lips.  Before the mouse could react, it was in his muzzle.  He shuddered in disgust at the probing sensation.  Isabelle was definitely enjoying it more than he was, not that the bunny was concerned about such things.  Natalie just tried to wait it out.  After what seemed like far too long, Isabelle broke the kiss.  To put some distance between the two of them, Natalie took several steps backward.  He had to fight the urge to spit.  The penalty for spitting on the floor had to be something ridiculously severe.  Isabelle seemed not to notice, he started talking.  “And this time, you won’t be able to hide behind Regina.  Hehe….”  Before Natalie could think of a retort, Isabelle left the room.  For a while, the mouse thought he would never leave.  Back to work.

	Natalie did not see Mistress Circe for the rest of the day.  His chance meetings with her had tapered off as of late.  Depending on the chores he was doing, he might go a few days without being “graced” with her presence.  He met her in the solarium.  She had just had tea with another of her odd guests she invited over to talk about….whatever it is evil wizards talk with each other about.  The guest had parted on amicable terms, but was a bit sloppy.  Not having proper hands, he had spilled quite a bit of tea and left a not insignificant amount of cookie crumbs all over.  As Isabelle was cleaning the good china, it fell on another maid to clean up the mess.  When she summoned Natalie, he heard her voice calling him to task as if she were in the same room.  While the mouse had encountered voice projection spells before, the suddenness of it was enough to make him jump.  It was a little unnerving that she always knew where everyone was in her home.  Once he picked up the box of detergent he was holding and retrieved his spot cleaning supplies, he went where he was ordered.
	As soon as Natalie entered the solarium, Mistress Circe’s eyes were on him.  He could practically feel her gaze probing him.  He knew what was coming.  The change to his body could not escape her notice and he knew she was going to draw attention to it.  A bemused smirk crossed her features when she saw him.  Natalie tried to avoid her gaze by keeping his head down and immediately going to clean up.  She spoke.  “Are you not going to greet your mistress, Natalie?”
	Of course, that was not going to work.  Natalie’s ears lowered.  Time to placate her, stay on her good side to avoid punishment.  He felt his heart rate speed up whenever he was around her, knowing that any wrong move, any breach of protocol, could rouse her ire.  “I’m sorry, mistress.  I was so eager to serve that I forgot.”  He forced a smile.  Then, just to show he was a good little maid, he dropped into a curtsey.  “Good afternoon, mistress.  It’s a pleasure to see you.”
	“Much better.”  Circe smiled and nodded.  “And very punctual, as a good maid should be.”  She seemed pleased.  Natalie had already figured out that, when mistress gave a direct order, it was best to stop what he was doing and do as commanded.
	“Thank you, mistress.  May I begin cleaning now?”  Natalie stayed in his curtsey, not looking up at Mistress Circe.
	“One moment.  I’d be remiss if I did not mention how….different you look from when I last saw you and I know I did nothing to alter you like this.”
	Natalie sighed.  He was already getting sick of explaining this.  “I woke up as a mouse…..I don’t know why it happened.  Just does sometimes.”  Natalie hoped the lie would be sufficient.  “May I begin cleaning now?”  He repeated with a little more urgency, wanting this encounter to be over as quickly as possible.
	Again, he was not that lucky.  Circe chuckled.  Natalie felt a scanning sensation, one he felt whenever being magically examined.  It happened often enough.  Some wizards tried to hide when they did such things.  Mistress Circe was not one of them.  The maids were her property; why hide anything she did with them?  “I see….your form is partially tied to your mental state.  You’ve reverted to something more…meek and submissive.”  She smiled.  “I approve.  A mouse is much more fitting of someone of your stature.”
	She was insulting him in that way people who carried themselves like old styled nobility did.  An observation that was dressed up as a backhanded insult.  Natalie felt the fur on the back of his neck bristle in irritation.  The skunk did not know him, not really, she had no right to say such things.  Whether what she was saying was true or not was immaterial, there was a purpose behind her words.  She wanted to make him feel small.  Putting him in his place would further the twisting of his mind.  He felt the need to explain himself.  “Hey, I was a prince before you captured me.  Technically, I outrank you.  You’re just a weird recluse spending all her time in her weird pocket dimension.”
	“A prince?”  Circe’s left eyebrow arched up.  It was the closest expression she had to surprise.  “You?”  And then, a paw to her muzzle to suppress a chuckle.  “The standards in your homeland must be remarkably low.”
	Natalie felt the anger spread from his neck.  It traveled in prickles down his back, raising the fur under his maid uniform.  He tried to keep it out of his voice, but his speech was becoming pressured.  “How do you figure?  Way I see it, they’re good people.”
	“I’m sure they’re very…..”  Circe paused and flicked her eyes up and to the right.  She was searching for a term.  When it came to her, she looked back at Natalie.  “Salt of the Earth, yes.  Honest people and very, very simple.”
	“You mean stupid?”  Natalie’s eyes narrowed.
	“You said it, not me.”  Circe smirked and Natalie glowered.  He walked right into that one.  “Though you do have a point. They would have to be rather thick-headed to follow a mongrel like you.”
	“Mongrel?”  It seemed like an odd choice of words.  For a moment, Natalie was too confused to be angry.  “I’m not even a dog.”
	Circe shook her head.  “No, no.  I did not imply you were a canine, silly maid.  Although, with what a confused mess of lineages you are, I would not be surprised if there was a little dog in there somewhere.  You’re a mutt.  A mish-mosh of contradictory bloodlines.  It’s very strange.  I’m surprised that, by your very nature, you’re not an invalid.”
	“So what?”  Natalie should not have felt insulted, but he did.  Her words stung, even without being vulgar or violent.  It was as if she was saying someone like him should not be.  “Figure I got the best of everything, right?”
	Mistress Circe scoffed.  “Hardly.”  Her demeanor changed.  She leaned in and spoke as if she was talking to a slow child.  “Everything I see in you is an example of poor breeding.  Your family lines leading up to you were not particular about who they sired offspring with.  If they were all royalty, this is inexcusable.  People of refinement should have standards, standards they ignored when they created a mutt like you.”  The fur all along Natalie’s lower back bristled, his paws flexed.  “I imagine some of your traits might be decent, maybe even useful, but you got the worst of some of it.  Of this, I have no doubt.”  The mouse’s ears and cheeks started to burn.  “Were you of proper refinement, you would not have fallen into so simple of a trap as Isabelle set for you.”  She put a paw to her chin.  “Why, your body barely resisted my spells at all.  Everything I’ve done to mold you into a beautiful maid has taken to your body as naturally as you draw breath.  I doubt that, even if you escape, you’ll ever be able to return to normal.”
	“Wait…what?”  Natalie’s anger abated for just a moment.  “That’s not even possible!  It’s unpossible!”
	“I assure you it’s quite possible, not that you’ll ever leave to find out.”  She leaned back in her chair, far less emotionally charged about this conversation than Natalie.  “You’re no prince.  You’re not even fit to be an adventurer.  A mutt like you is only fit for being a peasant or servant.  You should be thanking me that I’m molding you into something better and you get a chance to be of service to me.  Being a maid suits you, yes.  It’s what you were meant to be.  And, if I may say, you make a very lovely little mouse girl.  I’m sure that, when my guests see you, you’ll have them fawning over you and eager to sample what delights you can offer.”  She seemed to have a way to turn things back toward sexuality.  Demeaning what he was, trying to convince him that what she was making him into was far better.
	Natalie felt the heat spread from his cheeks to the rest of his face.  He tried to quell the outburst building within him.  He knew it would not end well if he let it out.  “..you…you think you’re better?  W-why?”  The words spilled out, drops of anger pouring from cracks in the dam holding it back.
	“Why, yes!  Of course I am.”  Circe stated as if it were obvious to anyone with ears.  “I am of a great and noble race of skunks.  Our lineage goes back millennia, we can practically trace it back to the dawn of time.”
	“I….see.  You’re all skunks?  I’ve never heard of you.”  Natalie was trying to make conversation, hoping to get her blathering about boring things to calm himself.
	“What else could we be?  No other creature personifies beauty and cunning as perfectly as a skunk.  We were renown for our prowess with all forms of magic.  My people live perfectly in tune with the magical energies flowing through all worlds.”  Her voice dripped with pride.  She leaned forward in her chair.  The quality of her explanation took on that of a professor discussing priceless cultural treasures.  “We were a beacon of culture.  Our art and architecture inspired the heart and mind.  I imagine you’ve seen something like it before.  Many cultures took their ideas from us, even if they manifested themselves in lesser forms.”  A chuckle came from her, as if reveling in a private joke.  “But ours?  It was always first.  The pinnacle of development.  The best food, finest wine, wonderful universities….what a sight it would have been.”  She let out a wistful sigh.
	“Yeah.  I’m sure all the surrounding countries looked up to you.”  Natalie rolled his eyes.
	“Whether they did or did not was immaterial.  We rarely mixed with the backwards nations around us.  Although, we did have a need for servants.  Most were quite willing.  Even if they weren’t, it was not like anything could stand up to our armies.  Expert warrior mages all.  Seeing them on the march was inspiring.” 
	“Servants?”  Natalie derisively scoffed.  “You mean slaves, right?”
	“Don’t be silly, Natalie.  I meant servants.  We treated them just as well as I treat all of you.  Everything was provided for them.  Food, shelter, free health care and education.  And they got a chance to serve their betters.  All of them were quite grateful.  We gave them much better lives than they would have lived….oh, I don’t know, squatting in a ditch somewhere sticking berries up their noses.”
	Natalie felt the heat radiating through his body.  He was having more and more trouble holding back.  He feared that he might even catch fire.  Keep her talking, keep trying to get that calm back.  “I…I see.   You..keep saying ‘was’.  Something happen?”
	For a moment, Mistress Circe seemed surprised by the question.  “So…you noticed that, did you?”  Her normally piercing gaze softened.  She sighed and looked away.  A slight frown appeared on her muzzle.  If Natalie did not know better, he would have said she looked sad.  “The universe is not always fair.  There are few of us left.  The details are…not important, but it was a sickness we could not overcome.  A tragic loss to the world indeed.”
	A plague?  A plague wiped them out?  For all their might, their worst enemy was also their smallest.  Mistress Circe looked rather broken up about it.  Why had she told him this?  It did not seem entirely like her to reveal details about herself.  Everything Natalie observed about her suggested she had a lot of pride.  That was apparent when she was talking about her cultural heritage.  The sadness of her face was not a look he had seen before.  She clearly missed them; a woman without a country.  In a way, it was tragic.
	In another way, they were a nation of egomaniacal, pompous, decadent, greedy slavers who thought themselves above everyone else.  He knew their type.  They demanded everyone they deemed inferior give them everything.  They only wanted to live lives of ease and take everything they wanted from everyone else.  If everyone was like her, every citizen was a tyrant.  And they were all gone, the slate wiped clean by nothing more than a disease.  Natalie tilted his muzzle up and started to laugh.  A manic, musical laugh that cause Circe to look at him with a raised eyebrow.  She was silent, having no words to express that she did not know what to make of his reaction.  Natalie was still angry, of course.  She was every dictator that believed themselves to be a god he had ever read about.  He was not going to try to hold the anger back.  He had so much to say.  “Tragic?  No, no, no.  I’m pretty sure the world didn’t miss a bunch of barbarians, ripping through the land to rape, pillage, and burn whatever they wanted to.”
	“Bar….barbarians?  Excuse me?”  Circe’s relaxed posture vanished.  She was sitting bolt upright in her chair.
	“You heard me.  Barbarians.  I don’t care how cultured you were or how nice your buildings were, that’s what you were.  A bunch of hedonistic thieves that just wanted to take from everyone because you thought you were all so special.”  Even angry, Natalie had to remember not to curse.  He had a lot to say and did not want to get choked out before he could say it.  “I can see it now.  A bunch of formerly free furs, who were perfectly happy not to encounter you at all.  To just live their lives.  And your jack booted soldiers marching them in chains into a lifetime of service to a bunch of politically favorited elitists.  It’s the same with every collection of spoiled, self-important despots!  I’m glad you’re one of the last of your kind!”  Natalie swung an arm in a chopping motion to emphasize his point.
	“Watch what you say, maid.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “If I were you, I would stop talking this instant.”
	“I’m just getting started!”  Natalie laughed again, just as mad as before.  “Bet you all thought you were royalty too!  Descendants of the gods or some nonsense?  Was that in your culture?”
	“We gave up the ridiculous notion of our lives being dictated by invisible beings in the sky long ago.”  She replied smugly.  “We believed in making a paradise on Earth.  We answered to no one.”
	“Sure, sure, whatever.”  Natalie flicked a paw.  “Yet, for all that, you got wiped out by a disease of all things.  A case of the sniffles!”  A grin spread on Natalie’s face wide enough to show his teeth.  He waited for Circe to say something, but she did not.  Her mouth was closed, lips forming a thin line on her muzzle.  She was too upset for words, so Natalie was happy to keep going.  “I mean, I hope it hurt.  It hurt really bad.  Bet they were coughing up lungs and their fingers were falling off and fur falling out.  Wracked with blood leaking from every orifice.  I hope it was spread by rats too.  Rats with poor breeding of mixed stock.”  Natalie flagged his tail up and gave it a wag.  “I mean, you had it coming.  How does a disease even wipe out most of a population?  It should be diverse enough that there would be some immunity.  Even the black plague didn’t wipe out all of Europe!”  Natalie stepped closer with each statement, now hovering over Circe.  “Must be all that ‘pure’ breeding you guys engaged in, right?  Keep it all in the family without a branching family tree?  Bet it was interesting looking around an average skunk village, right?  I bet you’re so inbred you can barely see straight without magic.  I’d be surprised if you weren’t born with flippers.  You…”
	Natalie could not get out another word.  Circe sprang from her seat with enough force that Natalie stumbled back.  She yelled something at him.  A string of words in a language he did not recognize.  He had only heard it once before, when she said something to Isabelle.  It was very elegant then.  Now the words were tainted with rage.  The inflections and gestures she made were universal in any language.  Her wide, bulging eyes and lips peeled back in fury.  He may not have known the language, but he knew she was cursing him in a very unladylike way.  Curses that were known only to her, but she was enraged past the point of rationality.  With other languages momentarily forgotten, she lapsed into her native tongue.  The mouse had a retort lined up, ready to go in his head.  He never got a chance to use it.  Screaming an unknown word in her foreign tongue, she raised a paw and pointed at Natalie.  Lightning flew from her fingers and struck him in the chest.  It was not a simple bolt of lightning, that was not enough.  Rather, a torrent of sparking, crackling arcs of lightning flung him off of his feet.  The sheer energy of it blew him from where he was standing all the way across the room.  He struck the wall with such force that it cracked and partially caved in.  Sheet rock dust sprayed from the impact crater that he left.  The only reason he did not fly completely through the wall was that he was so light.  The air was forced from his lungs in a long wheeze.  He was pinned to the wall for a moment by the scattering bolts.  When they relented, there was nothing to hold him up.  He could not right himself in the air, so he tumbled to the ground.  His body thumped and rolled in a tangle of petticoats.  Natalie was stunned by the sudden violence.  He stared up at the ceiling.  Blinking, he tried to clear his vision.  It was blurred with dancing black spots wavering across his eyes.  He tried to move an arm to right himself, but his entire body lit up with pain.  He smelled burning hair and silk, as well as sugar that had been left on a hot stove until it blackened.  With some effort, he craned his head down to look at his chest.  Where the lightning struck him was a large wound, just above his right breast.  The fabric of his uniform around it was charred and had fallen away like dust.  An unevenly edged splotch of bare flesh covered most of his right upper torso.  The flesh underneath was charred.  Moving that area, flexing his chest, did not hurt.  The nerves had burnt away, leaving dead tissue.  Already, the skin was sloughing off.  Light blue fluid seeped from the tissues around it, blood and other bodily fluids escaping as his body desperately tried to heal the damage.  His ears were ringing, but he could hear the soft clicks of a pair of high heels walking toward him.
	The mouse looked up.  Looming above him was Mistress Circe.  Her headfur was mussed.  What was normally a neat bun atop her head had come loose.  Stray locks of violet hair dangled from it, a bang falling over one of her eyes.  Her lips were still peeled back, teeth bared in silent rage.  Her amethyst irises were glowing and swirls of energy crackled around her paws.  She said nothing as she stood above him, but her glare said everything he needed to hear.  It was the look of someone given a supreme insult, who demanded a payment in blood.  He had never seen her this angry.  A normal person would be afraid.  She could have killed him right there, but Natalie just smiled.  The wound she inflicted on him, the lapse into her native language, it could only mean one thing.  For just a moment, Natalie had gotten inside of her head.  For just a moment, she lost control.  Natalie started to laugh all over again.  He ignored the tightness in his chest, the straining of his muscles as they compensated for dead tissue, the smell of his own skin cooking from magical energy.  As he laughed, Circe’s snarl slowly vanished.  It was gone by the time he was overcome with a fit of coughing.  Still, she said nothing.  She just looked at him like he had lost his mind.  Once the coughing subsided, he spoke in shuddering breaths.  “Made…..made you….lose your cool…..”  He grinned ear to ear.
	As if he slapped her, Mistress Circe’s entire body stiffened.  Her eyes went wide.  The only thing missing was a jaw drop.  She stepped back and took a deep breath.  Closing her eyes, she tried to focus.  To her credit, she recovered in seconds.  “Natalie, that was most uncalled for.  A good maid should never cast aspersions on the ancestry of his mistress.”
	“Heh…that what…….you were saying there?”  Natalie coughed.  “Sorry…..I don’t….speak skunk.”
	“…..sure.  More or less.”  She knelt down and put a paw on Natalie’s wound.  The mouse squeezed his eyes shut and flinched, expecting more pain.  “Oh, don’t cringe.  You’re going to be fine.  I’ve put too much effort into training you to kill you that readily.”  The skunk smiled.
	The door into the room opened with a hasty bang.  Rapid, broad footsteps indicated Isabelle had entered the room.  Natalie turned his head toward him.  He looked to be on edge.  The white bunny had a knife out, Natalie’s starmetal dagger, which he had appropriated for his own use.  His eyes were wide, jaw set.  He must have heard the commotion.  “Mistress!  I’m here.  Is everything…..”  He looked at the damaged wall, partially caved in.  Then, he looked at Natalie, laying on the ground.  He put his paws to his muzzle, eyes getting even wider.  Was he horrified by what happened?  His paws lowered.  He was smiling.  A giggle came from his muzzle.  “Natalie!  You dummy.  What did you do?”  No, he was not horrified at all.
	“Natalie said some hurtful things to me, most unpleasant.”  Circe answered for him.  Natalie did not feel like talking anyway.  It hurt to do so.  “I had to correct him.  He’s very sorry for it and I’m certain it won’t happen again.”  Maybe, maybe not.  Natalie knew how to get to her now.  He might be tempted to do it again if she ever got too puffed up with pride.  Circe’s paw began to glow with a shimmering red corona.  The mouse felt warmth seeping into his chest wound.  It made his fur tingle.  Magical healing, he knew it just by the sensation.  He bit his lower lip.  Healing damage with magic was something that could take a variety of forms.  Sometimes it was rapid, sometimes slow, usually instantaneous.  It could feel like nothing was happening at all or it could be intensely painful.  It might tingle, burn, cause blurred vision, hallucinations, turn the head purple, or fill the air with showers of victory sparkles.  Natalie’s healing spells, when he could still use magic, gave the recipient a sweet taste in their mouth.  From someone like Circe, who seemed more interested in inflicting damage and twisting bodies, he expected it to be very unpleasant.  He was surprised when it felt good.  A soothing warmth filled his chest.  The gentle heat radiated from it all the way to his fingers and toes, filling his entire body with a comforting sensation.  Every muscle in Natalie’s body relaxed.  He felt complete ataraxia, if just for a few moments.  When the skunk withdrew her paw, the wound was gone.  The only clue that something had ever been wrong was the damage to his maid outfit.  
Natalie sat up.  He put a paw over where the wound was, just to make sure it was really gone.  The mouse sucked in a deep breath, then let it out.  Breathing did not take nearly as much effort anymore.  Any internal injuries he had were gone.  He looked up at Mistress Circe and tilted his head.  That was not at all what he expected and the look he gave her reflected this.  “You’re capable of that?  I mean….what?”
Mistress Circe chuckled.  “I am a far more accomplished sorceress than you could possibly imagine.  Healing magic is only one small area of my talents.”  She gave the maid a condescending pat on the head.  “And, I’ve told you before, silly maid, your stay here can be as pleasant or unpleasant as you make it.”
“Yeah, I get it.”  Natalie put his feet under him and pushed himself up, coupled with the standard straightening and smoothing down of his skirts.  He did it without thinking about it.
“And you’ll have plenty of time to think about it.  I’m sending you off to contemplate what you’ve done.”  Circe casually replied.
“Haha, wow!”  Isabelle interrupted.  “You must’ve been really naughty to get this!”
“Isabelle, hush!”  The skunk snapped with such suddenness that it caused the rabbit to shrink back.  She glared at him, but her gaze quickly softened.  “Please, do not interrupt.  We will talk about this later.  Over dinner.”
The fear left him quickly.  Isabelle smiled and curtseyed.  “Yes mistress, thank you.”  Circe nodded to him, a little acknowledgement for his courtesy, before she looked back at Natalie.
“So….what happens now?  I get a time out or something?”  The mouse asked.  One of his paws had moved up to cover the bare patch in his uniform.  Now that he was healed, he was a little self-conscious about showing this much of one of his breasts.
“In a manner of speaking.  I’m giving you two months to ponder over your recent outburst.”  Circe said.  Natalie glanced at Isabelle.  His eyes had widened and his paws went to his muzzle once again.  Not a reassuring sign for the mouse.
“Two months away from you two?  I’m waiting to hear the bad news.”  Natalie replied.
“Not just away from your mistress, my little maid.”  Circe turned to face Natalie.  Her tail swished behind her, flagged up with that regal bearing she carried herself with.  She was back to normal.  “You’ll not have contact with anyone during that time.”
“Huh….all right.”  That sounded boring.  The mouse started to plan what he would do to fill his time in solitary.  “I better get a few books, then.  Even if they are just the garbage romance novels you give us, it’s something.”
“No, no.  You’re missing the point.  I want you to think about what you have done.  No books, no entertainment, no friendly chatting with the other maids.”  Mistress Circe smirked as she watched Natalie’s ears flatten against his skull.  “Of course, that is no excuse not to keep up your appearance.  You will still dress in your uniform each morning and wash each evening.  And, before you ask, you’ll be supplied with corsets that lace in the front.  You will still have to do chores, but only those required to keep your room clean.  Everything you need will be in there.  Your meals will appear on the table and the dishes will vanish in an hour.  Standard meal times and lights out hours will apply, of course.  When your two months are up, I will come and collect you.”  With every statement, Natalie’s shoulders slumped a little more.  She looked at Isabelle.  “Am I forgetting anything?”
The rabbit had been listening.  He had not moved from his spot, but had been watching Natalie to gauge his reaction.  “I don’t think so, mistress.”  He paused and drummed his fingers together before continuing.  “But…um….two months?  That’s longer than…I mean, can he make it that long without going all….funny?”
“Isabelle, I didn’t know you cared.”  She looked at Natalie.  The mouse had shrunk back.  Two months of solitary confinement sounded dreadful.  He was not sure how he would handle it.  “But, I believe this is for the best.”  She chuckled.  “As our training has been delayed by our special guest’s special request, there’s really no other way to correct him.”
It was looking like he was going to be punished pretty severely.  If even Isabelle was questioning it, it must be very unpleasant.  He had heard prolonged solitude could lend itself to one going mad.  Maybe he could talk her out of it?  “Look, I’m sorry, okay?  But you pushed me.  I…”
Mistress Circe’s finger went to his muzzle.  “Shhh.  You’ll have plenty of time to talk in two months.  Goodbye for now, Natalie.  Think long and hard about how you choose your words.  In the future, I may not be so understanding.”
Natalie pulled back.  He opened his mouth to speak, but there was a bright flash.  Out of reflex, he squeezed his eyes shut.  The familiar, retching sensation of being involuntarily transported through space washed over him.  He was being moved somewhere else.  He tried to open his eyes.  The flash had dazzled him.  Black spots danced in front of him.  They faded as his eyes compensated for the sudden rush of light, then vanished when they fully recovered.
He was in another room.  It could have been his bedroom, for how similar it was to the room he retired to each night.  There were several key differences.  There was only one bed, only one chair, and only two doors.  One door led to the bathroom, the other to a closet.  Natalie turned his head to where the door out into the hallway should be.  A blank wall sat there, unadorned.  Natalie walked up to the empty space and felt the wall.  He knocked on it to see if it was hollow.  His fist made a few dull thuds, indicating it was very solid.  Mistress Circe could have at least hung a painting there or something.  His heart fluttered.  Having no exit from the room was enough to make him anxious.  That had to be by design, Natalie would have considered sneaking out otherwise.  A cursory glance around the room revealed no books, no magazines, no games.  No paper or markers to draw with.  He did not even get a deck of cards to play solitaire.  It was eerily quiet as well.  He could hear no sounds from outside of the room.  No clicking of heels or muffled voices.  The only thing he could hear was the clock upon the wall, ticking away.  Natalie flopped down on the bed and sighed.  “Gonna be a long two months…..”  He said to nobody.

9)

	The days passed with agonizing slowness.  The first day was not overly terrible.  He passed the time daydreaming.  Natalie had a pretty easy time retreating to the world between his ears.  Reliving past adventures and creating new ones helped put him in another place, one far away from the fancy prison cell he currently occupied.  As much as Mistress Circe did to him, his body and mind, she could not fully control his thoughts.  At least, he really hoped that she could not.
	So engrossed was Natalie in his private world that he nearly missed when his supper tray materialized on the table.  It shimmered into place at around six pm.  Even though he had been fairly inert, enough time had passed since lunch that he was hungry.  Of course, since he was not working, his portion sizes had been reduced.  Just because he was in an elaborate time out was no reason to ruin his girlish figure.  When the thought occurred to Natalie, he almost wanted to go on a hunger strike just to thumb his nose at the skunk.  He decided against it.  Intentionally weakening himself further was a poor plan.  He wanted to have all the energy he could when he finally found a way to escape.
	By day three, he was getting his routine down.  He woke up in the morning at about six.  By seven, he was fully dressed, fully made up, and wearing his perfume.  It was a bit of an adjustment, pulling his own corset tight.  He tried to keep it loose.  Somehow, within an hour, it seemed to get as tight as it would have if Isabelle had been pulling the laces.  It would not have surprised Natalie at all if his corsets were enchanted.  At seven thirty, his breakfast appeared, which he would eat with a minimum of enthusiasm.  He had grown to enjoy eating breakfast with the other maids, sharing a meal with other people in the same predicament he was.  Now, it was the equivalent of eating cold cereal over the sink.  He still said his prayers before breakfast, but it was not the same without Regina present.  He hoped the lion was not too worried about him.  He hoped they would not think he disappeared like Nancy and her ilk had.
	After breakfast, he occupied his time daydreaming until lunch appeared at noon.  Then more daydreaming, or pacing around the room, or cleaning, or whatever else he was supposed to do until supper at six pm.  After that, he was free to clean up for bed and finally take off his uniform.  He did not wonder why he still had to wear it.  He knew his captors wanted to keep him in the habit of wearing it.  It was a little strange, but he was starting to feel, well, naked without it.  Even by himself, he did not like to be uncovered.  As soon as he was done showering and had brushed his fur, his silky blue nightgown went on, along with a fresh pair of panties.  It sickened him how much anxiety it caused him to be without his feminine clothing.  With it on, he felt better when his bare breasts and sheath were not on display for the world to see, even if the world was not in his room to see him.  His dirty clothes he never worried about.  After throwing them in the hamper, they were always gone the next day.  No laundry duty was not all bad either.  When he had finished cleaning up, it was another couple of hours before bed, so he did more daydreaming.  Then lights out, then bed, then get up the next morning to do it all over again.
	The days flowed by for about a week.  Then, the monotony started to set in.  The same routine, every day, with no one around and nothing to break it up.  Natalie had been alone for long periods of time before, even longer than this.  However, it was broken up seeing the occasional stranger wandering past, or random animal, or even a change of scenery.  There were no indications that the world outside was still going on without him.  He was completely alone.  The lack of activity was just as bad as the isolation.  All he could do was pace around the room, lay down, daydream, and listen to the clock.  Even one book or a single sheet of paper would have been an improvement.  He was getting bored enough that he would have read any number of the trashy romance novels that occupied space in the maid’s library.  If he had even one, he would treat it like a treasure, savoring every word.  So much time away from everything tended to shift one’s priorities.  He kept looking at the clock.  He tried not to, but his eyes kept drifting that way just to see how much closer he was to the end of the ordeal.  Several hours passed in the mouse’s own head.  When he looked at the clock, however, only five minutes had passed.  He suspected that time had slowed down, but that was ridiculous.  The clock was moving normally, he was just that bored.
	By the end of week two, he was talking to himself.  This was not unusual for Natalie, he did it often on his own time.  The amount of time he spent doing it had surged.  He held entire conversations with the beings in his imagination, at first doing only his dialogue out loud.  Later, he started to do their dialogue out loud as well, trying to use a different voice in the style and inflections he imagined they would use to talk.  He talked to his pillow, or an empty set of clothes he laid out on the bed, or the toilet, or a chair.  He tried not to talk to himself in the mirror.  That would be weird.  Not just because he would be more overtly talking to himself, but because he might start flirting with the attractive mousette in the mirror.  The only real benefit was that he did not have to put up with Isabelle’s flirting, nor did he have to stroke Mistress Circe’s ego.  He could at least console himself with that.
	In the middle of his third week, Natalie was singing ‘Canticle of the Sun’ in his super voice.  He imagined the room was pretty isolated, so he was not concerned about anyone overhearing him.  Even if they did, who cares?  He would sing as loud as he liked.  It was just a shame he only knew one and a half of the verses.  After the eighth first verse, he took a break to catch his breath.  Between breaths, he heard the relentless ticking of the clock.  That took up some time.  A handful of seconds here and there.  The ticking seemed louder than usual and deeper in pitch.  That was not ticking.  It sounded more like a thump, kind of like someone pounding a fist against a wall.  Natalie’s eyes widened and he inhaled sharply.  Someone was pounding a fist against the wall!  Another person.  He sprang off the bed and onto his feet.  “Hey!  Hello!  Hi!  What?  Hey!  Who’s there?”  His head practically spun on his shoulders.  He turned from side to side, frantically clicking his high heels on the floor from one corner of the room to the other.  He needed to find out where the sound was coming from.  It was something new, something different to break up his bland, listless routine.  It might have been Circe or Isabelle messing with him.  While this thought occurred to Natalie, he was willing to forgo his sense of caution in case it was not.  As much as he prided himself on being a loner, he was starved for contact.
	He felt along each of the room’s walls.  His left ear was kept close to try and detect any sound that could be coming from the other side.  The entire curvature of his rounded rodent ear was pressed firmly against the neutral paint.  It went on for about thirty seconds and stopped before Natalie could find the source.  A minute of silence passed with the mouse still searching.  A sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach.  Pinpricks of fear tickled at the bottoms of his feet and pads of his paws.  “No, no, please knock again.  C’mon, please….”  He mumbled into the wall.  Whoever it was, Natalie did not want them to go away.  Had they given up because there was no response?  Was it an accident?  Someone nailing a picture to the wall?  Any of them were possible.  An altogether new worry occurred to Natalie.  What if they had forgotten about him entirely?  That none of the other maids gave him any thought.  That Mistress Circe was going to turn his two months stay into an eternity.  The days would go by until he died of old age, alone and insane in this tiny room.  Forgotten like a discarded toy whose owner no longer found it amusing.  Flutters of panic edged themselves around his mind.  He brought up a fist and furiously pounded on the wall.  “Don’t run away!  Please come back!  I can’t open the wall!”  He screamed as loud as he could.  Rodent fists collided with drywall, trying to make enough noise to transfer over to the next room.  He pounded on it until his lungs burned from the exertion.  Tired out, he finally stopped.  He leaned on the wall, panting to regain his breath.  He listened, but there were no more sounds.  The mouse was alone with his imagination once more.  He flopped down on his bed to catch his breath and stared at the ceiling.  With the prospect of interaction gone, he had never felt so isolated.  He looked at the clock.  It was not even one pm yet.  Sitting up, he caught his reflection in the mirror.  A mouse maid, hair mussed and out of breath looked back at him.  The reflection looked disheveled; the makeup had run around her eyes.  She looked pathetically at him, but he felt like she was judging him with her eyes.  “Don’t look at me like that!”  He snapped, the mouse girl in the mirror snapping back at him.  He winced.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to…..”  Natalie blinked.  “Stop talking to yourself in the mirror.  Just stop it.”  He shook his head, then got up to walk around the room.  Maybe a few laps would clear his head.

	By supper time, he calmed down.  He was happy when his meal tray appeared, as it marked that this day was almost over.  Another day down.  He had almost put the memory of the knocking on the wall behind him.  As he ate, he stared at his plate of food.  It could have been worse, he supposed.  Mistress Circe could have had him on bread and water or some variation of a prison diet.  Instead, he got more gourmet, well cooked meals.  He still would have preferred a fast food cheeseburger, but this was all right.  The recipes tended to use too many vegetables that Natalie did not care for.  While he was pretending the lean piece of poached salmon on his plate was a steak, he noticed something odd on his tray.  Sticking out from under the plate was a small piece of paper.  Curious, he tilted his head and slid it out from underneath.  “Squiggles?”  Natalie stated as he looked at the ink marks on the paper.  Wait, no…that was writing!  His eyes went wide.  The handwriting was messy, but it was a message.  Contact with a person!  Heart pounding, he read the note.
	
	Natalie.  If this tray gets to you, write something back, even if it’s just an x.
										-Beatrice

	The other maids had not forgotten about him!  Natalie smiled.  He had better write something back.  Then he frowned.  He had no writing implements.  He knew this because he had searched every inch of this room.  His shoulders slumped.  How on Earth was he going to write back when he had nothing to write with?  No, he had to figure something out.  Anything to let them know he was there.  It had to be risky sending him notes.  He was thinking too concretely.  There had to be a more creative solution staring him in the face.  His eyes settled on his plate, then his eating utensils.  Natalie smiled.  Well, if old timey guys could use a quill pen and inkpot to write entire documents, he could use the tines of a fork and some bearnaise sauce to reply to a note.  He picked up the fork and dipped a tine in the sauce.  He flipped Beatrice’s note over and started to write.

	Help.  I’m being held hostage in a fortune cookie factory.

	He did not sign his name.  They would know it was him.  He slid the piece of paper under the plate and finished his meal.  Then, he counted the minutes until seven pm.  As soon as the clock struck seven, the tray vanished.  Now all he could do was wait.  The mouse barely got any sleep that night.  He had not been this excited about anything for a long time.

	The next morning, the first thing Natalie did when his breakfast tray arrived was to check under the plate for another note.  There was none.  He started to worry, just a little bit.  He decided the reason they had not responded was because they needed to get to work.  The maids did not spend a lot of time eating the first meal of the day, too much to do.  When it was time for lunch, he looked again.  This meal was also unaccompanied by a note.  It was harder to contain his disappointment that time.  He almost started crying.  Almost.  He had to remind himself that this was not something he should cry about.  Despite his frilly trappings and large breasts, he was still a man.  Waiting with baited breath for a note and then crying when he did not receive it was not acceptable behavior.  He was starting to think the first note was written by Mistress Circe.  She was probably just toying with him.  Playing that he might have some contact with the world outside of his cell.  Taunting him in his isolated state.  It was ridiculous to think the other maids would risk sending him notes.  It was even more ridiculous to think Mistress Circe would not notice it if they tried.  He decided to just forget about it.  To stop working himself up and falsely raising his hopes.  He was just going to have to tough it out.  No more checking under his plate for errant messages.
	The resolve not to look for more messages lasted for about five minutes after he got his supper tray.  This time, when he lifted the plate, he found a note sitting underneath.  He was so happy and surprised he almost flung the plate across the room.  Calm down, Natalie.  He cursed inwardly over getting this excited about a piece of paper.  Once he was steady, he picked the note up and read.  It was written in neat cursive letters, quite a contrast from the messy scrawl of the prior note.

Natalie;
	You have no idea how glad we are you weren’t disappeared!  All of us have been worrying about you since Isabelle told us you had gone away for a while.  We weren’t sure what sort of a state you were in.  When Jennifer heard your muffled singing through one of the walls, we knew you were alert enough we could chance sending you a note.  Your reply just verified it.  Try not to be so goofy when you respond.  When Beatrice read it, he started laughing, which made Isabelle give him the hairy eyeball.  Guess that means we miss your light hearted jokes and your smile.  You being around made us all feel happy.  You really are more entertaining than any book in the library.
	Anyway, what’s been going on around the mansion’s more of the same.  Chores, uncomfortable clothing, and rape.  I really, really hope Mistress Circe isn’t making you keep wearing your uniform while you’re doing….whatever it is she’s doing to punish you.

	Natalie made a sour face when he read that, then continued.

	You’ll have a new roommate when you get out.  The hyenas picked up a bear named Tanya.  He’s built like a linebacker and kind of rough hewn.  I’m not sure if he’s more angry he got kidnapped or that we’re not all REAL beautiful women instead of fake ones.  He’s a decent guy though and Regina’s been talking to him.  Poor guy’s taking it kind of rough, but we’ll get him through this.
	And you’ll get through whatever it is she’s doing to you.  We’ll send you notes whenever we can get away with it and be waiting to welcome you back whenever you get let out.  Stay strong.  You’re going to get through this!  We’re all in this together!
										-Francine

	Natalie read the note.  Then he read it again.  Then he read it one more time.  A smile spread over his muzzle and he started to tear up.  He blinked the tears away, not wanting to get sappy over something so simple.  Neatly folding the note, he walked over to his bed and stashed it under the mattress.  He could take it out and read it again later.  He felt like he should write something back.  The mouse was not really good with long messages and he still had nothing to write with.  Well, a little sauce and his fork should do the job just as well as it did last time.  Picking it up and dipping it in some of the red sauce on his pasta, he wrote on the tray.

	Thank you.  Send pencils.

	He then covered the writing with his plate.  He hoped that would keep the message hidden.  He did not want the other maids getting in trouble over him.  Then again, without context, it might just show that he was losing his mind and scrawling words onto whatever he could find with whatever means he had available.  He hoped that would be the interpretation.  A glance at the clock told him he had very little time left to eat.  He used so much of it reading that he had to hurry to get some supper down.  He got about half way through his plate before it went away.  While he was still hungry, he did not mind.  His starved mind had been fed and that was even better.  For the first time in weeks, the creeping anxiety surrounding his thoughts abated.  After he got out, he would tell them all about his time there.  Maybe he would even ask them who the hyenas were that Francine mentioned.  For now, that question would have to remain unanswered.

	A week and a half flew by.  The other maids were not kidding about continuing to send him notes.  He got one a day.  It varied in who wrote it, the meal it came with, and how long it was, but it always made Natalie’s heart soar whenever he saw that little scrap of paper.  Every maid wrote to him, sometimes multiple maids per note, writing in different sections in turns.  They kept it to a single, neatly folded sheet of paper to remain discreet.  Before long, he did not even have to read the names.  With nothing else to do but read them over and over, he got to know their penmanship pretty well.  Regina even managed to sneak a small pencil with one of his trays.  It was hidden in a croissant.  Natalie was very glad he read the accompanying note before biting into it.  While he dared not write back to indicate they were talking to him, it did allow him to start doodling on whatever space was left in the margins of the notes.  Time began to pass quickly.  He could daydream, draw his dreams, write a little, and read the messages sent to him by people who cared about him.  He was not sure how he could ever repay the other maids for doing this for him.  No matter what, he would make it up to them.  He made a promise of it.
	At the start of week five, he saw the familiar edge of a piece of paper under his breakfast plate.  His tail wagged as he lifted it up to see what was going on in the mansion.  It was better than any television program at this point.  Little bits of gossip and encouraging words to make his heart light.  He lifted it up and read.  The handwriting was unfamiliar.  A new maid, perhaps?  The writing was an elegant, flowing cursive.  It was, quite possibly, the most beautiful penmanship he had ever seen.

	There will be no more notes.

	That was all it said.  It was not signed, but Natalie had a pretty good idea of who wrote it.  His ears lowered.  Natalie’s heart sunk, icy fingers of dread slowly rising around his heart.  He was going to miss the messages from his friends, but that was not why he was worried.  His concern for what Mistress Circe was going to do to the other maids now that she had caught them going against her wishes.  People like her did not look kindly upon others giving aid to ones she wanted to punish.  Mercy was not in her vocabulary.  He dropped the note as if it were on fire.  His mind whirled with endless possibilities of the horrible tortures that she was capable of inflicting on the other maids.  While he later found out she had punished them by merely taking away their ability to write, his imagination went wild, and he had a very good imagination.   “No…oh, oh girls.  I’m so sorry….”  With no one to hear his concerns, he voiced them anyway.  “I didn’t want this to happen.  Please, all of you be ok.”  He walked to the bed and curled up on it.  Thoughts of his compatriots crying out in pain, crying out for mercy, banished any appetite he might have had.  He lay there past when his food tray vanished, past lights out.  That night, he slept very little.  When he did sleep, his dreams were not friendly.

	The rest of his weeks in isolation passed agonizingly.  Most of his time was spent in silent worry.  The notes that the other maids had written were no longer under the bed.  He kept them folded up in the pockets of his apron.  Every time he felt a little lonely, he reached for one.  He always stopped himself, he dared not read any.  Fear took over whenever he tried.  The notes just brought to mind the pain the other maids had to go through for the sake of his loneliness.  It was as if he thought reading one would invite further punishments.  However, he could not bring himself to discard them either.  So, they stayed in his pockets, completely inert.
	After four weeks without any stimulation aside from meals, Natalie was starting to withdraw more and more into his own head.  Simultaneously, what was in his head seemed to be reaching out.  His dreams tended toward the lucid side, but now they almost seemed real.  They were usually rather pleasant, but lately he just kept reliving what Mistress Circe had put him through.  In many, he was unable to escape, trapped forever at the mercy of her and her loathsome bunny maid.  In his dreams, there were times he overcame her and escaped.  Most times, he found himself submitting to her.  In those terrible dreams, he submitted himself to Isabelle willingly, finally accepting his place as a loyal, lustful little maid.  He always woke from those dreams blanketed in cold sweat; thankful it was only a dream.
	With no other people around to restrain his imagination, Natalie did hallucinate from time to time.  Usually, it was just a glimpse.  Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a dragon’s tail, or a flittering fairy, or a vixen leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette.  While this might unsettle most, it did not bother Natalie.  He knew they were not really there, just tricks of his mind.  At times, he held conversations with them, filling in the gaps with what he thought whatever thing he was talking to would say.  They rarely lasted more than a few minutes and did nothing to assuage his loneliness, but did help to pass the time.
	In fact, Natalie was so preoccupied with what was in his own head he took no notice of when it was his last day of isolation.  Consumed with his own worries about the other maids and lack of interaction, time had slipped away from him.  At lunch on that day, he was studying a prosciutto, pesto, and provolone panini carefully and debating whether or not he wanted to offer some to the pretend bulgy bear sitting at the other end of the table.  He was so engrossed in this that he did not realize Mistress Circe had teleported into the room with him.  There was no way of knowing how long she was watching him.  He only acknowledged her after she loudly cleared her throat while standing directly behind him.  The sound of another person made the mouse jump.  He practically spun around in his chair, flinging the sandwich back on the plate hard enough that it bounced off and slid across the table.  With wide eyes he looked up at her.  Confusion made him blink a few times.  It had been so long since he had seen another person up this close.  Just to make sure she was not a hallucination, he reached out for her.  She did not move when his paw made contact with her leg.  He gave it a squeeze.  “I can assure you that I’m really here, Natalie.”  The skunk stated with an amused smile on her face.
	“Yeah, yeah.  I knew…..that.”  The look on the mouse’s face must have been awash with confusion, Mistress Circe chuckled at his words.  He had not seen a flesh and blood person in so long he was not quite sure how to act.  He stood up and forgot what he was going to do next.  His skirts had flared up, exposing his underwear, but he made no effort to push them down.  
“Yes, indeed.”  Circe chuckled.  “Well, you know why I’m here.  It’s been two months.  My, doesn’t time fly when one is having fun?”
Words spun around in Natalie’s mind, forming a salad of nouns, verbs, and adjectives.  He forgot to count the days, but it seemed like it was a lot longer than two months.  When every day was the same, however, it was hard to keep track.  Natalie’s left ear flicked and his eyes darted around the room.  The jumble of words in his head refused to organize themselves, but he knew he had to say something.  “Uhm, yeah.  It’s…fun sometimes with.  You know?  I’ve missed….”  Natalie reached a paw up and rubbed the underside of his muzzle.  “Sorry, I’m out of practice.”
“So I see.”  Circe could not seem to stop smiling.  Her eyes were practically dancing, mirth in them.  “Have you thought about what you said?  I imagine you have.”
Natalie blinked.  It took a few seconds for him to process the question.  At first listen, the words did not seem to make sense.  He barely remembered what she was talking about.  Then, the memory of being lit up by her lightning spell came to him.  He cringed as if it were about to happen again, making Circe’s smile widen.  “Uh, yeah.  Yes.  I’m.  I’m sorry.  I’m a little…”  He shook his head.  “The other maids…are they?”
“They are all fine, I can assure you.  I’m certain they missed you.  It’s rather interesting how close you’ve all become.”  She watched Natalie for his reaction.  He blinked and rolled his eyes in his head.  They kept darting around the room before settling back on her.  “But, you’ll be getting back to them soon.  We have a party tomorrow, and I’m going to want you in top form.”
“A party?”  Natalie struggled to remember what one of those was.
“Yes, a party.”  Circe replied.  “And I’ll need all of my maids to help with it.  I’m still missing two even with you back, after all.”
Natalie’s ears lowered.  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  Two more maids were gone?   Must have happened while he was in solitary.  “I don’t, um, will there be a lot of people?  I…..I’m not….”  The words had to be forced out between nervous, unpracticed lips.
“Not too awful many.  A few dozen, perhaps?  I’m sure they’ll adore a cute little mouse like you.”  The skunk reached a paw out toward Natalie’s muzzle.  The mouse followed it with his eyes.  Not afraid, but wary.  He had not been touched for a long time.  His first instinct was to push it away, but being attention starved for so long had altered his sense of revulsion.  When she caressed his cheek, he had to fight not to nuzzle into her paw.  He stood there like a statue and watched Circe for disappointment.  She might have shown a flicker of it in her eyes, but she kept talking.  “I even have someone who had been eagerly waiting to meet you.”
“I don’t….know.”  He mouthed into the paw.  His tail flicked nervously from side to side.  The memory of the mystery guest had not escaped him.
“Don’t worry, little mouse.  It will be fine.  She’ll treat you well.  Very well indeed.”  The skunk grinned.  It was the sort of look a gleeful prosecutor would send a man to the gallows with.  “I’m sure she will find you….delicious, yes?”
“Delicious?”  Natalie’s ears perked.  His heart fluttered unexpectedly, but not from fear this time.  It was from excitement.  A trigger word, properly applied, to spark the mouse’s baser instincts.
“Yes.  I’m well aware of your….proclivities.  That’s a compliment, correct?”  She moved her paw up to caress one of his ears, even giving a soft scratch behind it.  Conflicting thoughts ran through the mouse’s head.  He squirmed in place.  Words failed him.  He could not find any to protest or agree.  Circe was happy to keep talking.  “For now, I shall get you out of this room.  You can help the other maids with the preparations.  I think they will be glad for the aid.”  Before Natalie could even nod in agreement, there was a flash of light, the universal sign of being teleported.

10)

	The rest of the day went by quickly.  Mistress Circe teleported them back to the lounge, where Isabelle was waiting.  Natalie braced himself to endure the two months of flirting that Isabelle missed out on, fully expecting him to make up for lost time.  Instead, the bunny was all business.  He handed Natalie a mop and oil soap and told him to get busy on the floors.  Rather than question it, Natalie got busy on the floors.  At this point, he had enough cleaning practice to be good at it.  He really was turning into a proper maid.  When he finished cleaning the floor in that room, he moved on to the next.  And there were many rooms to clean.  Sometimes, he would see the other maids engaged in various tasks.  They smiled when they saw he was back, but had no time to stop and chat.  Isabelle was directing everyone to keep them on task and ensure everything was up to Mistress Circe’s standards before the party.  He flitted about, giving orders as if it came naturally to him and helping clean when needed.  Natalie was almost startled by him acting so serious.  It was nice not having to fend off his groping paws.  It was nicer not having to worry that his time in solitary would make him crave and welcome his groping paws.
	The maids all worked until supper.  They ate together in the dining room.  A light fare was made to avoid generating more dirty dishes; mostly salads and cold meat sandwiches.  The food was not the thing everyone paid mind to.  Even if they had a banquet, Natalie would have been the center of attention.  They were all happy he was back with them, not disappeared.  All manner of questions were asked of him, mostly about how he was feeling and where they had been.  It was embarrassing being doted on like that.  Natalie was not used to this much positive attention.  Catherine even gave him a big hug the second he saw him.  It made him blush, but he did not mind.  It felt like he belonged.  Even the new maid, Tanya, seemed happy to see him.  As happy as he could be.  The bear was positively massive and looked utterly miserable in his frilly, yellow maid outfit.  His corset could barely contain his muscular girth.  Being his new roommate, Natalie was glad he did not have to ‘greet’ him in a manner to Isabelle’s liking.  He looked like the kind of guy that would have punched him, but he was friendly enough.  Natalie would guide him through what to expect while being a maid here later that night.  The idea put a damper on his mood.
	While they ate, the other maids filled him in on what had been going on in the mansion.  Very little had changed.  Tanya was new, of course.  The final two maids that seemed to be enjoying their time here were also gone, confirming what Mistress Circe had told him earlier.  That meant she would be looking for two new ones, a bad sign.  He hoped she would fail in trapping more people into this life.  Less hopeful still was that they were no closer to formulating an escape plan.  Even though they could rely on each other, they were still trapped here.

	The next morning flew by.  It consisted of a few more hours of cleaning and meal prep, as well as stocking the bars in the lounge and ballroom with alcohol.  The maids spent another couple of hours cleaning themselves up.  They had to primp and fluff and brush and do all those feminine things ladies did to get ready before a very important social event.  New panties, corset snug, fresh makeup, an immaculately clean apron over his maid uniform (the one with the shortest skirt), and a fresh spray of perfume.  Natalie had never felt so gussied up in his life.  He checked himself in his bedroom mirror before he left the room.  That horrible, harlot looking mousette stared back at him.  His painted face with kissable lips perfectly accented by his blue lipstick.  Large breasts pushed up, short skirt showing off long, shapely legs in fishnet stockings.  The slightest wrong move would flip his skirt up to show the world that he was not all woman.  Of course, the panties he was being made to wear would have to be a skimpy thong.  He sighed.  Why did Mistress Circe have to make him so…..attractive?  He tore his gaze away and clicked off to the party.  The guests would be arriving soon and he did not have time to waste torturing himself with the mirror.

	Natalie hoped to be placed in the kitchen during the party.  He was not ready to be thrust right into a group of lustful, amoral strangers, especially dressed and shaped like an object of desire.  At this point, Natalie should have known not to expect his wishes to be honored.  Mistress Circe said Isabelle and Catherine could handle the kitchen.  His place would be serving drinks in the ballroom.  It could have been worse; Natalie had tended bar before.  At least he was behind a counter that partially obscured his figure.  It was worse for the maids circulating among the guests with trays of food, tending to spills and being the recipients of unwanted touch.  Even back there, Natalie still felt hungry eyes on him all night.  He felt them studying him or casting sidelong glances in his direction.  Lust sparkled in their eyes as they imagined him in a variety of sexually charged situations, or simply mentally undressing him.  He was eye candy that served booze.  They were not shy about complimenting him.  Sweet words spoken with intent to make him blush or giggle.  While his ears did burn with embarrassment whenever his beauty was commented on, he refrained from coy laughter.  Just because he was dressed like the stereotypical naughty maid did not mean he had to act like one.
	As the party went on, Natalie saw Mistress Circe on occasion.  She fluttered about the party like a proper social butterfly.  She mixed and talked to her guests, though Natalie never overheard much of her conversations.  He had his paws full serving drinks.  It was busy, but not busy enough that he broke a sweat.  Circe’s guests enjoyed their libations, but they were not the hardest drinking bunch the mouse ever encountered.  However, he was occupied enough to forget he was wearing revealing clothes.  This was brought to his attention when he was bending behind the bar to get something off the floor.  He bent at the waist with his tail flagging up high, forgetting completely that he was in a skirt.  As he stood there, reaching and moving, he heard a voice above him.  “Heh, take your time down there, sweet cheeks.  You’re giving me a hell of a view.”  Natalie’s eyes widened and he craned his head up.  He saw an anthro goat with reddish-brown fur leaning on the bar, leering down at him.  While the goat was dressed in the suit of an old-fashioned gentleman, his look betrayed him as being anything but.  Natalie blushed brightly and rapidly lowered his tail.  He finished his task as efficiently as possible and stood back up.  He glared at the goat, trying to look like he was about to consume him with the fire of a thousand red hot cinnamon candies.  The goat grinned, showing a row of uneven teeth.  “Look cute when you try and be scary.  Don’t pretend you hate the attention.”  He pushed an empty highball glass forward.  “I’ll take another whiskey sour, sweet cheeks.”  He stretched out the last two words to make sure Natalie heard the little pet name the goat assigned to him.  The mouse said nothing, not wanting to dignify it with a response.  He snatched up the glass and started to mix the drink.  How nice it would have been to poison all of these wretched wizards.  Natalie fantasized about adding a few drops of a tasteless, odorless poison to the strong drinks offered to the skunk’s guests.  Something painful.  No, he had no access to any fancy toxins, just cleaning supplies.  That would be too easy to detect.  They probably knew how to detect a variety of poisons anyway.  Boss monsters tended to be immune to poison status.  It was impossible, but that did not stop him from thinking about it.
	Time passed and the party started to wind down.  Natalie was starting to get nervous.  Watching the guests file out made him all the more cognizant of the mystery guest that Mistress Circe kept promising he would see.  Not all of them left alone.  Some left with one of the maids, one they had been eyeing all night.  They never looked happy about it.  Natalie tried to hide behind the bar, avoid making eye contact with anyone.  His tail hung low.  If he had his way, he would turn invisible, so none of the wizards who had spent all night loosening their already meager inhibitions could see him.  So, he waited.
	Natalie watched Tanya being led away by a short stoat in what appeared to be a leather bodysuit.  The bear glowered down at him, but had no power to resist.  In any other situation, he’d probably pound that guy into a thin, red paste.  He was not able to watch for long before the goat that spoke with him earlier stepped into his field of view.  The caprinae finished his drink and grinned.  That was number five for him.  “Hey there, sweet cheeks.”
	The mouse took a step away from him.  He knew where this was going already.  “No.  I don’t want anything to do with you.”  He found him repulsive for innumerable reasons, but the foremost one on his mind was his breath.  The whiskey did not help that.
	“Heh, c’mon.  I know you like the attention.  Playing in that sexy outfit.  Really shows you off, but covers enough to keep you modest.  You wear it great.”
	“This is even less modest than my usual nudity.”  Natalie crossed his arms.
	“Sure, sure.”  He set the empty glass down on the bar.  “You wanna be naked, I’d be happy with that.  We better get a room first.  Miss Faroda doesn’t like it when I bend a maid over the bar and take him there.”  He reached out for Natalie, who recoiled from his paw as if it were on fire.
	“Stop!  No!  I’m already spoken for!”  Now Natalie was getting worried.  It was not just that he did not want to be taken by the goat.  No, Circe stated that he was being explicitly saved for someone.  He knew the goat was not it, Circe referred to them as a ‘she’.  If he let the goat do what he was thinking of, mistress would be very upset.  While she would punish the goat for ruining her plans, she would also punish him for going along with it.  The mouse pulled away from the bar and flattened himself against the wall.
	“Sure, that’s what they always say.”  The bar was not a very good deterrent.  The goat went around it to collect Natalie.  He tried to get away from him, but was soon backed into a corner.  “C’mon, we’re wasting time.  Want to have lots of time to enjoy a treat like you.”  He reached for him.  “Those wings….bet they make great handles.”
	“Handles?”  Natalie’s ears lowered.  He really did not like the sound of that.  He recoiled as the goat reached for him.  He hated being this afraid of someone like him, but he was not in a position to fight.  No weapons, no magic, and wearing a collar enchanted to keep him compliant.  There was no chance for victory.  “Touch me and I’ll scream!”  The mouse threatened.
	“Wouldn’t be the first time for that either.”  He grabbed Natalie by the wrist.  “I like em loud.”
	Before Natalie could scream, or even start to shake loose from the goat’s grip, they were interrupted by a flowing, feminine voice.  “Mr. Faulk.  Kindly unhand my maid.”  It was as if the goat turned into a statue.  Eyes wide, he froze up.  His mouth tightened and he slowly turned his eyes toward the source of the voice.  Natalie was already looking that direction.  Mistress Circe was standing there, looking as regal as ever.  She held a half full wineglass in her left paw, the small smear of lipstick on the rim doing nothing to diminish her ladylike demeanor.  She was not alone.  A figure slightly taller than she was stood slightly to her left.  Natalie could not make out any of their features, as their entire upper body was covered by a colorful, hooded cloak.  It went all the way down to their ankles and was quite striking.  It was decorated in swirls of yellow, red, green and blue.  While he could see they had two arms and legs, they were also wearing long pants, a long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of gloves, all white.  Not an inch of their flesh was visible.
	“Miss Faroda.”  The goat’s voice had a slight quiver to it.  He released Natalie immediately and turned to face her while they were talking.  The confidence he exhibited when it was just the two of them was gone.  “I was just going to take this one to a guest room.  Enjoy his company.  It’s that time of night, right?”
	“Then I’m glad I came along when I did.  You’ll have to wait for another time.  As he said, he is already spoken for.”  A smirk spread up one side of her muzzle as the goat squirmed in place.  “You really should learn to listen, even to the maids.  I would have been very…….upset if you had tainted this one.”  Her eyes narrowed just a bit, making the goat swallow audibly.  The figure standing near Circe did not speak, but nodded.
	“Hey, how was I supposed to know?  They always say that kind of stuff.”   Mr. Faulk stammered.  Was the goat actually getting defensive?  Natalie smiled inwardly.  Listening to him verbally sweat was fun.  “I mean, I….”
	“Please, don’t embarrass yourself further.”  Her smile broadened.  “Apologize to my maid, then be on your way.”
	“Apologize to a maid?!”  The goat went rigid, eyes indignant and scowling.
	“Yes.  I won’t have my guests being unkind to my servants, especially the new ones.  What sort of mistress would that make me?”  Mistress Circe’s tail gave a merry swish.  Natalie could have answered that question readily, but he did not want to be punished.  It was weird enough she was actually sticking up for him.
	“…..Not a very good one, I reckon.”  The goat sighed.  He looked at Natalie.  “Sorry there, sweet cheeks.”
	“I believe you can do better than that, Mr. Faulk, not nearly contrite enough.”  Circe stated.  “Bow to him, as you would to a proper lady.”
	“Bow to a maid?  Are you serious?”  The goat’s eyes narrowed slightly.
	“Yes.  That is, if you wish to be invited back.  I’m not interested in keeping company with rude people.”  She was still smiling.
	The goat sighed.  “Very well.”  He turned to Natalie and took a step backward.  One of his paws went to his belly and he dropped into a genteel bow.  “Forgive my forwardness, gentle lady.  I did not mean to offend you with untoward conduct.  I only found myself captivated by your beauty, and was overcome with desire.”  He spoke with a flourish, words that made Natalie blush.  Being called a beautiful girl and fawned over like this was one of the reasons why he reverted back to being a mouse.  The goat looked to Circe.  “Better?”
	“I believe so, but I’m not the one you are apologizing to.”  Circe replied.  “What do you think, Natalie?”
	When the goat looked up at him, Natalie had several thoughts.  He was conflicted over Mistress Circe actually sticking up for him.  It was confusing, even if he knew she was doing it for selfish reasons.  She had to preserve his whole ‘untainted by men’ thing until it no longer suited her purposes.  Seeing her interact with Mr. Faulk made him realize that she really, really enjoyed having power over others and would settle for leverage when she could not have complete power.  Forced apologies always made him a little uncomfortable, but humbling the goat was a good thing.  He may as well rub it in a little.  “Apology accepted, Mr. Faulk.  Now Faulk off and go Faulk yourself.”  Natalie’s tail flagged up and wagged merrily.  The goat gave him a dirty look in return, but walked off without another word.  After he had gone, Natalie looked at Circe.
	“That was dangerously close to profanity, Natalie.”  She stated.
	Natalie grinned and shrugged.  “Yeah, but it was worth trying.  I didn’t get choked for it either.  Nothing wrong with a little wordplay, right?”
	“Clever, perhaps, but don’t cross the line.  I may have to act if you get too coy.”  Her words made Natalie’s ego deflate.  She was capricious enough to do something if the mood struck her.  She was ready to move on.  She looked at the cloaked figure to address her.  “Miss Gejfun, this is Natalie.  He is the fairy I told you of.”  The skunk moved aside to allow the figure forward.  She took a few steps closer.  Natalie, feeling quite uncomfortable, tried to take a step back, but he was already backed against the wall.  “Is he what you hoped he would be?”  Circe asked.
	Gejfun stood still while she looked at Natalie.  Again, the mouse got that odd probing feeling he received whenever he was magically appraised.  He shifted on his feet and tried to ignore the crawling sensation in his fur.  The figure finally spoke.  Her voice was smoother than even Circe’s, melodious and kind.  “Oh yes, he definitely is.”  A voice like that could not be natural, but it put Natalie at ease anyway.  Even though he could not see any details about her appearance, shrouded as it was, he was drawn to her.  “He is very nearly perfect.  Untainted by men, just as you promised.  He smells absolutely divine.”  She purred.
	Natalie blushed even darker than he had when the goat was teasing him.  “Uh….um my…”  He stammered.  “It’s…it’s mostly perfume…..  I usually just smell like mint.”
	“I’m well aware of Miss Faroda’s skill with enchanted perfume, but your natural allure goes beyond that, little fairy.”  She replied, making Natalie smile.
	“Thanks….”  Natalie was not immune to compliments.  He knew there was something off about this creature, but he could not help but like her.
	“And you’re positively adorable.  Such colorful fur…”  She turned her head toward Circe.  “Will I be able to change his size?”
	“Yes.  Just manipulate the enchantment on his collar.  I’ve already adjusted it to allow you.”
	“Wonderful….”  Gejfun replied.  “I’m surprised you could keep Isabelle off of this one.”
	“It was no small task.”  The skunk replied.  “He has wanted to deflower him since he arrived.  But, there was no danger.  Isabelle would never go against my wishes.”  Natalie fidgeted just thinking about that horrible bunny.
	“And he may have him once I am fed.  It is best the first time.”  Gejfun replied.  Natalie swallowed.  It looked like his reprieve from Isabelle was over.  Best not to think about it.
	“He’ll be happy to hear that.  I believe you have something for me?”  Circe raised an eyebrow at the figure.  She did not want her to forget their arrangement.
	“You never change, do you?”  A soft, musical giggle echoed from under Gejfun’s hood.  “I did not forget it, if that’s what you mean.”  She reached under her cloak and produced a cloth wrapped bundle.  She held it out toward Circe.  
The skunk snatched it up with an eagerness Natalie had not seen from her before.  Quickly, she pulled the cloth off to reveal a book bound in blue vellum.  It was covered with more of that unfamiliar writing that Natalie had only ever seen in this mansion.  A smile broad enough to show her teeth grew on her muzzle.  “Excellent.  You never fail to impress, Miss Gejfun.”
“Thank you.”  She glanced at Natalie before looking back at Circe.  “I hate to be abrupt, but I am very hungry…..”  Natalie felt a shiver run through him when she mentioned hunger, but it was not one of fear.
Circe waved a paw to dismiss them, but did not look up from the book.  “Of course.  Take all the time you need.  Do remember that he is mine, so no taking him out of the mansion.”
“I know the rules.  Must you remind me every time?”  The creature asked.  Circe was already walking away.  She did not even bother to answer.  That must have been a very interesting book.  They watched her until she left the room.  “Good….that will make future favors much easier to get.”  Gejfun half mumbled to herself.  Her head turned back toward Natalie.  “Come, little fairy.  We have so little time together.  I want to make sure you enjoy it.”
Natalie shivered.  Part of him wanted to run.  Where would he even go?  She seemed so nice.  And all of this talk about hunger was making the mouse curious in the worst way.  His desires made him want to follow her.  “Lead the way, Miss Gev-yoon.”  He tried to pronounce her name the best he could, hoping he did not insult her by butchering it.
“Heh, cute.”  She reached out a gloved paw and caressed his cheek.  She did not seem offended.  Taking his paw, she led him away.

They ended up in one of the larger guest rooms.  The guest rooms were all well-furnished, clean with large beds.  All the doors had locks on them as well.  Mistress Circe’s guests were afforded such luxuries.  Gejfun, of course, locked the door as soon as they entered.  Natalie walked to the center of the room to put some distance between himself and the figure.  She was watching him quietly.  He could feel her eyes on him, presuming she had any eyes underneath of her cowl.  His heart beat quickly in his chest.  He felt small, fluttery tingles in his belly.  Her intentions were not ambiguous from how she talked with Mistress Circe.  But, what happened next?  She was watching him, waiting for him to speak, but he did not know what to say.  “Uh, so…you have me now.  I don’t know anything about you, don’t even know what you are.  Maybe we should just….talk?”  Natalie did not want to rush into this.  He never was the kind of guy to rush right into intimacy with someone he just met.  Something about her made his usual resistance to such things feel weak.
“What am I?”  Gejfun giggled softly.  With flowing steps, she walked closer to Natalie.  “I am Gejfun.”  She watched Natalie for his reaction, but only saw a blank look on his face.  “I can see you are confused.  Let’s just say I am whatever you want me to be.”
“That doesn’t sound possible.”  Natalie raised an eyebrow at her non-answer.
“I assure you it is.  I know exactly what you desire.  I can sense it, reach into the secret parts of your mind where restrained men like you keep their deepest fantasies.”  Her last words came out as a purr.
Natalie looked away, blushing brightly.  “You got me wrong.  I don’t have any ‘deepest fantasies’ or whatever.  You can’t tempt me, I’m a decent man.”
“Says the one wearing a short, provocative skirt whose breasts are practically spilling out of his outfit.”  Gejfun countered.  “The way you look could tempt anyone to secret lusts.”
Natalie winced.  “I’m not wearing this by choice.  Mistress Circe makes us do this.  You’ve known her longer than I have, so you know what she’s like.”
“True, but it suits you.  It really brings out how beautiful you are.  One of Miss Faroda’s girls.”  She took a few steps closer to Natalie.
The mouse frowned.  “This isn’t what I am.  She twisted my body until I can’t even call myself a man.  She wants to make me something I’m not.”
“A man?”  The creature giggled.  “So what?  Everyone knows that gender is flexible, fluid.  I’m so happy people are wising up to that these days.”  She kept getting closer to the mouse.  Natalie kept moving, trying to keep his distance.  “What you are now is better than what you were.  You should embrace it.  It is who you really are, regardless of what you were born as.”
	“It’s not natural.  I won’t.”  Natalie looked her in the hood for a moment, then looked away.  He could not make eye contact with her and would not have been able to even if he could see them.
	“Many things are not natural, but we still enjoy them.  I suggest that if it feels good, you should do it.”
	“Not everything that feels good is good.  Doing that’s a quick way to end up miserable.”
	“The only thing that makes someone miserable is fighting their desires, fighting what you were meant to be, like you’re doing now.”  She kept getting closer.  At this point, Natalie was backed up against the bed.  “However you were, I think you’re better this way.  And you smell delicious.”
	Smelling delicious, another trigger for Natalie.  He tried to fight down his arousal.  Thoughts of pain and frigid temperatures came to mind.  “I’m….I’m not.  I don’t want anything to do with you.”
	“I think you do, little fairy.  I think you do.”  She reached up and pulled down her hood.  The flourish of movement drew Natalie’s eye, then he just stared.  Gejfun’s face was that of a stoat.  She had a long, slender muzzle with delicate whiskers sticking out on either side, perfectly symmetrical.  Her eyes were deep blue pools, both coy and kind.  She had long, white headfur that cascaded down to her shoulders, but this was not pure white.  One of the strands was colored royal blue.  It hung over her left eye.  While it partially obscured her face, it seemed to add to her beauty rather than detract from it.  Oddly enough, she had been wearing a hat underneath of her cowl.  A navy blue witch’s hat sat perched upon her head.  That seemed to be the only article of clothing she intended to leave on.  The rest of her outfit slid off of her body, pooling around her like fallen leaves.  Her long, slender, ermine body was on display.  She was anthro bordering on feral, with a long midsection and digitigrade legs.  Her breasts were perfect, not too big and not too small.  Her hips shapely, full.  Her tail long with a royal blue tip.  She had a heart shaped marking on her chest, the same color blue as her bangs.  Another heart was just below her pouch, a pouch she had despite not being an animal that typically had one.  The only other markings on her were a trio of blue stripes around each wrist and each ankle.  She was rather skinny, but Natalie somehow knew she had a very, very long intestinal tract, a thought that excited him terribly.  She smiled down at the mouse, tail gently waving back and forth as she did.
	“Abaha…hahhhh….”  Natalie’s eyes were wide, staring at her body.  In the fantasies Natalie would never admit to having, this was the ideal woman.  She represented his thought on what true beauty looked like.  Well, she represented what his lustful self thought true beauty looked like.  It was as if she was ripped directly from his imagination.  She probably was, but this triggered no alarm bells in Natalie’s head.  Having such a vision of loveliness in front of him was beyond distracting.
	“Like what you see, little fairy?”  She spoke in a sultry tone.  She stepped closer.  “Sweet…tasty little fairy.”  Her tongue flicked out and ran along her lips, slowly.  Natalie’s knees felt weak and started to buckle.  He caught himself on the bed.  “You look so good, I could eat you in one bite….roll my tongue back and forth over your little body to savor you.”
	Natalie’s skirts tented up, no longer able to hide his arousal in the slightest.  He put a paw down to try and cover it anyway.  His inner ears burned brightly, blush showing there and on his cheeks.  “S-stop, please.  This isn’t right….”  He turned his head to try and look away, but he could not take his eyes off of her.  The way the light played off of her sable-white fur, making the blue markings stand out all the more.  The blue hearts on her pouch and just above those pert breasts.  They drew the eye and made him drink in her form all the more.
	“Even if it isn’t, so what?”  Gejfun got even closer and Natalie did not have the strength to move away this time.  “You’ll love every second of it, I promise.  It’s just what you wanted, after all.  Your deepest fantasy come to life.  Lucky I happen to enjoy eating my partners, though plain sex is good too.  I think we have time for both.”
	“Both?”  Natalie swallowed, shivering with lust at the thought.  “N-no…don’t eat me.  I don’t know you and it might kill me.”
	“It won’t.”  She wagged her tail, swishing it back and forth and waving her hips as she stepped even closer.  “I rarely drain my partners until they die.  I’ll be especially careful with you.  Miss Faroda would be very upset if I damaged her property.”  How friendly of her.  Natalie would have been more worried if he were not so turned on by her.  “Now, which’ll it be first?  A little love making or shall I just eat you?”
	“Mmm…eat me.  You look so….long.”  Natalie’s tail flagged up high and wagged eagerly.  His eyes were drawn to that perfect mouth and nimble tongue.  The thought of his little body sliding between those lips…his eyes widened and he shook his head.  “No!  Go away!”
	Gejfun giggled.  “Oh, that’s not nice.  I’m so hungry and you look like the finest delicacy a girl like me could imagine.  Such a wonderful mix of different creatures, a buffet wrapped up in a small package.  When I heard about you from Miss Faroda, I knew I had to have you.  So rare to meet a fairy untainted too, that makes the flavor all the sweeter.  That repression….then when it lets go, mmm…”  She licked her lips again.  He stared at her mouth, admiring her teeth and tongue.  Natalie’s panties felt several sizes too small.  “And as you slide down my throat, I know you’ll enjoy it.  My stomach will gently knead every part of your body when you enter it, making you all soft and slick and glistening with my juices.  As you slide through my intestines, they’ll rub and pleasure you all the way through.  Just think of those muscular walls sliding against every inch of your body, caressing your most sensitive parts….and I’ll give you the full tour, I promise.  You’ll get to experience every inch of me…and as a stoat, I have a lot for you to see.  I’ll enjoy every second of it too, feeling my own pleasure and feasting upon your orgone.”
	Natalie had started panting as she described what she would do to him.  The heat was practically radiating off of his body.  But when she said the word ‘orgone’ confusion reared its head enough to break him out of it.  “Orgone?  I thought that stuff was junk science?”
	The stoat rolled her eyes.  “I can assure you it’s quite real.  It’s a bit like life force, but it grows back quickly.”  She smiled.  “And if you’re like me, it’s the best source of nourishment I could ever want.”
	“Will I…will I miss it?”  Natalie tried to sound hesitant.  The more rational part of him was trying to pull back, to get away.  But, she was so beautiful, the woman of his dreams.  At least, in body, which was good enough for his lustful thirst.
	“I told you it will grow back.  It will taste differently, of course.  One can’t replace innocence.  But I’m sure you won’t miss that at all.  Something tells me you had little of it in the first place.”  Gejfun giggled and stepped closer.  “Turn around, I’ll get you out of that uniform, unbind your wings.  If I know Miss Faroda, it will change size when I shrink you to the size of a fairy.  I don’t want to have to digest clothes.”
	Natalie thought of words to protest.  They came to his mind, but he did not have the strength to utter them.  Instead, he turned around and presented his zipper to Gejfun.  He felt her paw clasp around the zipper and pull it down.  He expected her to do it slowly and savor the moment, but she practically yanked it downward.  She really was hungry, very eager.  He moved his arms with her, not protesting as she slid his uniform off and left him in his underwear.  The bindings came off his wings.  He stretched them out, smiling at how good it felt to be free of the bands a little earlier than usual.  Add it to the list of good feelings that she was giving him.  It all felt wrong.  His ears lowered.  “Stop, please.  I…I can’t do this.  We’re not even married.”
	Gejfun did not stop, but she did respond to his statement.  She laughed.  As she undid his corset, she leaned in and whispered in his ear.  “Who says we have to get married?  It’s worthless anyway.  Let’s just have some fun.  Quickest way to ruin it’s with silly ideas like that.  I don’t think anyone should be limited to just one partner.”  Her tongue ran over his ear.  “That would be just…awful.”
	The lick drove the mouse over the edge.  Any remaining resistance he had was gone.  Maybe it would be ok, just this once?  He did not really have a choice.  If she was going to insist on pleasuring him, he should enjoy it.  Just relax, enjoy the ride.  Enjoy the….sin.  He winced, his inner moral compass spasming at the thought.  But, he ignored it.  He felt that if he kept resisting the temptation, he would go insane.  How could he be expected to stand against it?  He leaned over and pushed back against her, feeling her fur against his rump.  His tail wrapped around her.  “Do it….”  He said and closed his eyes.
	“Glad you see it my way.  Just relax, I’ll do the work…..”  Off came the undergarments, everything but the collar.  She would have to tolerate it, not having the power to remove it.  After that, she shrunk him to his normal size.  After that, she brought Natalie into her paws.  Actually, he flew directly into her paws, so eager was he to indulge.  She leaned in and rubbed her comparatively large muzzle against his body.
	The little fairy purred happily, but shuddered.  His mind made one last, desperate attempt to plead with him.  A small, quiet voice in the back of his head said ‘Fight it.  If you give in now, you can’t get it back.  You’ll be betraying yourself and this will stick with you for the rest of your life.  You can’t undo it!’.  Natalie hushed it back down.  He kissed Gejfun’s massive muzzle.  It was going to be ok.  He could always forgive himself later.  “Eat me!”  He called up at her, making the stoat smile.
	“Gladly, little morsel.  I’d say hold your breath, but there’s plenty of breathable oxygen down there.”  One more giggle, and they got started. 

	Hours passed.  How many of them was anyone’s guess.  Gejfun was not exaggerating about what Natalie would feel.  He had never experienced anything like it.  The passage was tight, restricting his movement.  Usually, he liked to be able to walk or swim around a little bit.  This time, it did not seem to matter much to him.  As he moved through, her insides moved in ways he did not think was possible.  It had to be some form of manipulation, shapeshifting her body to maximize the erotic sensations moving over Natalie’s body.  He was not about to question it and he was so overwhelmed with the motions he could not even think about reciprocating.  It was unlikely she minded, she was feeding off of his lust.  It was in her best interest to keep her prey in a state of orgasmic bliss.  And Natalie found release dozens of times by the time he completed his full tour of her digestive tract.  The voice that cautioned him against this was quiet the entire way through.  Perhaps Natalie just ignored it completely?  He was totally exhausted by the time she was finished.  When he came out in the end, his only regret was that it did not last longer.
	He was utterly drained, lying curled up on the floor.  His body was slick with her juices.  It was remarkably clean in there.  Gejfun must not have had to eat actual food.  Natalie’s body was limp, he felt like he could not move, he only wanted to sleep.  What a pity he could not curl up in her stomach for a nap.  Her time must have been short.  He was dimly aware of her picking him up.  “Mmm…your orgone was a real treat, little fairy.  Haven’t had some that delicious in a long, long, long time.”  Natalie weakly looked up at her.  He felt an odd sense of unease, of danger.  He found his eyes moving to her mouth, lewd memories coming to the forefront.  He watched it as she talked.  “We’ll have to do it again some time.  It’ll be interesting to see how you taste after being….corrupted a little.”  She smiled and carried him to the bathroom.  His eyelids fluttered and he felt himself drifting to sleep.  He was dimly aware of her cleaning him up.  Being so small, he did not have to participate.  She cleaned him as one would a doll.  His next memory was being tucked into bed, his body having grown back to its larger size.  He had not even been aware he had changed size, but it did not seem important.  He felt as though he could sleep for days.  Gejfun said something else to him, but he was not paying attention.  He drifted off to sleep.  The next morning, to his dismay, he woke up alone.  She had not kicked him out of bed, but she did not stick around to greet him when he woke.

	The walk to the dining room for breakfast took longer than it should have.  Natalie still felt tired from the night before.  How much sleep did he actually get?  The prior night’s events were a blur, he had no way of knowing.  The other maids seemed pretty tired at breakfast too, no doubt having had their own rough nights.  He wondered if they had as good of a time as he did?  It would have been rude to ask.  Instead, they all ate in silence and then went about their chores.  There was a lot of cleaning up to do, as there was after any good party.
	Throughout the day, Natalie started to feel his strength coming back.  The fatigue shook from his limbs, he could work as normal.  However, an abiding sense of wrongness hung over him like a shroud.  Doing menial labor left his mind free to wander and it kept drifting back to Gejfun.  Their night of passion played in his mental theater over and over, drawing a blush and readjusting himself in his skirts every time he thought of it.  It had felt so good, he wanted more.  He might have to ask Mistress Circe when he could see her again.  Being around her, that beautiful stoat directly from his dreams, was thoroughly intoxicating.
	How much he wanted to see her again scared him.  The fear brought him back to reality whenever he felt like he was about to float away into fantasy.  How much was he idealizing their encounter?  For him, it was a night of sexual bliss, one with a woman he had just met.  That alone was wrong.  She also fed off of him.  She drained him of his orgone, or whatever she called it.  While he did not believe latent sexual energy existed outside of the realm of pseudoscience, it was clear that she drained him of something.  He felt as though he was missing something.  An odd sense of loss, something he would never get back.  His ears lowered when he realized what it might be.  He surrendered a little part of himself to her, a little of his innocence.  He could have fought it.  He would have still been eaten, but he could have kept his dignity.  Instead, he gave it to her willingly.  And she?  She used him as food.  She consumed him.  Sure, it felt wonderful, Natalie shivered with heat at the memory, but was it worth it?  She used him as nothing more than a meal.  Food that lived through the entire act.  Somehow, that made him feel all the more excited.  She made it a point to tell him that some of her partners did not live through being drained.  Rather than worry him, as it should have, it made him feel like he was special.  Privileged enough that she wanted to see him again, to feed off of him even further.  She wanted to see how his flavor had changed.  “Mmm…wonder what she thinks I taste like…have to ask her…”  Natalie mumbled to himself dreamily, before cursing his betraying thoughts.  “What’s…what’s wrong with me?  I’m thinking like an addict.”  The mouse sullenly mused.  His thoughts were just as chaotic the rest of the day, vacillating between admiration for the woman who ate him and horror over everything she stole from him that he willingly gave her.
	Throughout the workday, Natalie did not see Isabelle.  He must have been very busy and he was not about to complain about the bunny’s absence.  Mistress Circe he encountered once.  It was a brief meeting shortly after lunch.  She approached him as he was buffing some scratches out of the ballroom’s bar left by a wizard still not used to his new claws.  He did not notice her until she was speaking to him.  “I heard you had a very enjoyable night with Miss Gejfun.”
	The sound of her voice made Natalie jump.  “No!”  He reflexively blurted out.  When the meaning behind her words sunk in, he blushed.  “Um, I mean….no, I hated every second of it.”  He did not like to lie, but he felt it was necessary.  She had enough leverage over him as it was.  This embarrassing knowledge would just add more.
	Circe put a paw to her chin.  “That’s not the story I heard.”  A knowing smile crossed the skunk’s muzzle.  “You practically threw yourself at her when you found out what she had planned for you.  ‘Eat me’ is what I think you exclaimed in the throes of desire.”
	Natalie’s eyes went wide.  “How did you know about that?!”
	“I know many things, little maid.  A lady does not usually kiss and tell, but Miss Gejfun is an exception.  She enjoys complimenting me after I’ve provided her with a sumptuous meal.  She could not say enough good things about you.”
	“Wh-what?  I mean….”  Natalie fidgeted in his skirts.  Just thinking about her made them start to tent up again, memories leading to arousal.  “It wasn’t like that….I tried to hold back.  I just…”
	“Oh, no need to justify yourself.  I’m just happy you’re finally starting to enjoy yourself.”  She clicked up to him until she was within reach.  “You’re finally learning to know your place.  Shedding ridiculous notions of purity that only exist to keep you from enjoying life.  I keep telling you, I only want what’s best for you, and for your service to be enjoyable.  This is the best life a beautiful fairy like you could ever hope for.  Now that you’ve had a taste, I imagine you want more.”
	“No I don’t!”  Natalie spat, hoping he could convince himself of it.  “It’s wrong, all of it!  No matter how much you try to dress it up, I’m still a slave.”
	She did not look angry at him using such terms.  On the contrary, she reached up and gently caressed his cheek.  “Dear Natalie, I wouldn’t call you a slave.  Everyone’s bound to something.  Some choose the wrong thing, but I’ve made the choice for you.  Now, you’re bound to something that will make you happy.  Blissfully happy.”  She leaned in and kissed Natalie on the cheek.  He started to recoil, but then accepted it.  “And don’t worry.  She wants to see you again.”
	Natalie, who had been struggling to find a way to express his displeasure with both of them and pull away, froze up.  He was just about to the point where he could articulate it in words without using profanity, but they all melted away when he heard that Gejfun was not lying about wanting him.  “She….she does?”  His ears perked, tail flagged up high.  His heart beat quickly, fueled by lustful thoughts and the knowledge that they were reciprocated by the object of his desire.  She had told him that before, but it seemed to gain more weight when it came out of Circe’s mouth.
	Circe nodded, a knowing smile on her muzzle.  This was the reaction she wanted from him.  Natalie had the oddest notion she was trying to mold him as one would clay.  “Oh yes, though who knows when.  She’s quite mercurial.  But, she did say she was interested in seeing how you tasted after being….corrupted by men.”  Circe chuckled.  “Isabelle will be overjoyed to hear that, I’m sure.  The poor dear’s practically been chomping at the bit to have you.”
	Natalie winced.  “I’m not sure I like that idea…”
	“Oh of course not.  A hero like you would find that ever so disagreeable.  Too noble to give yourself over to dirty, amorous Isabelle.  Unless, of course, it was over the woman of your dreams.”  A dark smile crossed Circe’s muzzle.
	Natalie’s mind whirled.  He found Isabelle loathsome, but, for another night like last night?  Maybe….maybe getting mounted by that horny bunny would be worth it?  Maybe…maybe he could try to enjoy it?  It was not like he had a choice.  No, no, no!  A thousand times no!  But….Natalie pulled his head away.  “Stop it…please….don’t make me….”
	“He won’t come for you tonight, of course.”  Circe ignored what he said completely.  “I have….need of him tonight.”  Her tail gave a few wags.  One had to wonder what she was thinking about.  “Tomorrow, perhaps.  It’s really up to him.”  She turned and started to walk away.  “Well, I have a lot of work to do, many charms to make this evening.  It was lovely chatting with you, Natalie.  So glad you’re enjoying being here.”  Natalie’s mind went blank.  He watched the skunk walk away.  When she was gone, he looked down at the floor, then buried his muzzle in his paws.  She knew his secret shame, his weakness.  When the lust was gone, when he did not have the memories playing active in his head, all he felt was emptiness.

	After his encounter with Mistress Circe, Natalie’s day crawled by.  He kept playing her words over and over again in his head.  Every time he did, he felt weaker, considering her words more and more carefully.  Was he really making himself miserable by fighting this?  It would not be so bad, betraying all of his morals to play with Isabelle.  It would make him nice and tasty for Gejfun, he was sure of it.  Maybe next time, he could ask for a longer tour through her belly?  Then the more rational side of his mind would tell him that Gejfun was literally a monster who had killed her prey before, possibly many times before.  But not him, he was special.  But it still could happen.  But she did not love him.  But what did that matter when it felt so good?  But it left him feeling used and empty.  But that was just a matter of perspective.
	By the time work was over and it was time to eat supper, he was a wreck.  He drug his feet on the way to the dining room.  Feeling thoroughly contaminated, confused, and weak, he was not sure how he would face the other maids.  He sat at the table, picking at his food.  He did not have much of an appetite.  While the other maids talked to each other, Natalie remained as quiet as a mouse.  He only spoke when spoken to and, even then, only gave brief answers.  They mostly talked about how glad they were that the party was over.  Natalie tried to avoid making eye contact with any of them when they did.  They were all fighting Circe’s influence tooth and claw, while he felt like he was giving in to it.  He had always thought of himself as a hero and never felt further from that ideal.
	After supper, the maids started filing out to return to their rooms.  They did so after realizing Isabelle was not going to come for any of them.  They could all be thankful for that.  Natalie lingered.  As much as he felt like hiding in his room, he did not feel like going there just yet.  Before long, only Regina and Francine were left.  They were talking about something that Natalie could not overhear.  He was about to give up the idea of talking to one of them.  He only wanted to talk to one at a time, two at once would have been overwhelming.  While rising from his chair, both of them looked at him.  It was sudden enough that he froze in mid-stand.  They walked up to him while he was half standing, half sitting.  He stared at them and they looked back.  Uncomfortable silence filled the air as everyone waited on someone else to talk first.  Francine was the one who finally broke the silence.  “You look like a man struggling with something terrible.  Anyone can see something’s wrong.”
	“Um….”  Natalie looked away.  “I’m fine.”  The words left his muzzle automatically.  He badly wanted the conversation to be over.  However, he also did not want them to accept ‘I’m fine’ as an answer.  In his head, he pleaded for them to talk to him.
	“You’re not fine.”  Regina replied.  “Please, talk to us.  We want to help.”
	“Yeah….”  Natalie nodded.  He sat back down.  Taking his cue, Francine and Regina each grabbed a chair to sit with him.  He looked at them, but did not feel like he could look them in the eyes.  The mouse knew the stuff in his head, his kinks, were more than a little strange.  People like Francine and Regina might judge him harshly for it.  “I don’t know where to start.  It’s all just so….I mean….”
	“It’s all right.”  Francine said.  His muzzle took on a concerned smile, understanding in his eyes.  “Start wherever you want, take your time.  We’ll listen until you’re finished.”
	“Thanks.”  Natalie nodded slightly in silent gratitude.  He took a deep breath.  Then, he went over what happened at the party.  The story went through everything.  It started with Mistress Circe saving him from the lecherous goat all the way through his time with Gejfun.  It ended with his meeting with the skunk where she promised him future trysts with the wonderful stoat in exchange for him being a good little maid and submitting to Isabelle.  He tried not to go into too much detail about the actual mechanics of it, he doubted they wanted that.  Even so, he braced himself for the expected shock when he talked about being eaten.  Neither Regina nor Francine so much as batted an eye.  They kept listening until he was finished.
	“She literally ate you?”  Francine asked.  Natalie nodded.  The wolf’s lips pursed together, clearly worried.  “Wow….I’m glad you’re ok.  You don’t hear about people living through something like that.”
	“Shouldn’t be surprised.”  Regina added.  “I know some of Mistress Circe’s guests feed off us in one way or another.  But, I think this is the first time I’ve heard of one of us getting swallowed whole.  That must have been terrifying.  Hope you were knocked out for it.”
	Natalie shook his head.  They did not quite get it.  “No, no, I’ve been eaten many times, actually.  I’m usually a little fairy, remember?  It’s….complicated.”  Natalie’s inner ears burned with blush.  It was always embarrassing when he had to explain this.  “And I was awake the whole time.  I loved every second of it.  Being so close…so intimate…so inside a lover.  Can’t ask for more.”  Natalie let out a happy little purr thinking about it, becoming momentarily lost.  No, not now.  He shook his head to clear the images of a hungry stoat’s mouth opening wide from his thoughts.  “It was like my fantasies came to life.  She even looked like the girl of my dreams!  I mean, just like it, right down to the hat.  It was all so perfect!”  Natalie’s ears folded back against his head.  “I tried to resist.  I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t, it was too much.  I…I wanted it at the moment.  I needed it.  I knew it would feel so good…and it did!  And now I can’t stop thinking about her and want more and Mistress Circe knows it.  And I think she’s going to use it to make me do horrible things to improve my flavor for Gejfun.  Horrible things.  She’s already said….”  Natalie shook his head, not wanting to describe it again.  “And a big part of me wants to do it because it will please her and get me more time curled up in that hot, warm stomach…”  Natalie shivered.  “I…I can’t do anything to fight it!  I’m completely helpless!”  Lust and revulsion swirled in his head.  Natalie fought to keep back the tears.  He buried his face in his paws, just in case they started.
	Rather than condemn him for giving in, Francine leaned forward and put a paw on Natalie’s shoulder.  “Hey, it’s all right.  You’re not the first guy Mistress Circe’s tried to pull this with.  Probably won’t be the last.”
	“More than anything else, she loves manipulating people.”  Regina added.  “I think that makes her happier than anything else.  And you have to know there’s no love there.  Like you said, she just feeds off you.”
	“I know!”  Natalie shouted back.  “There’s no love, but it feels so good.  A big part of me doesn’t seem to care.  It just wants more, more, more!”  Natalie sighed and slumped in his chair.  “But I know it’s wrong.  I feel like someone hollowed me out.  I’m just another horny fairy doing everything he can to get a little more pleasure.”  His eyes were on the ground.  Looking at either of the other two maids was too painful.  “I failed.  I’m not a hero.  Maybe I never even was one?”  He thought back to coming here.  His purpose was to slay the evil sorceress.  Now, he was her plaything, and a willing one at that.  “I never should have come here…..Mistress Circe was right.  I was made for this…”
	  “Failure hurts.  You’re trying to make sense of this whole terrible situation, and it’s been hard on you.”  Francine said.  “It’s been hard on all of us.  No one says we have to like what Mistress Circe’s doing to us.  It looks like she’s found an especially effective way to get to you.  There’s no way you could have expected it, so don’t be ashamed of failing.”  Natalie looked up at the wolf.  Being around Francine was a little odd for someone like him.  He was not used to being listened to.  Returning the favor by listening back was the most polite thing to do.  “I don’t think that playing the night you spent with this Gejfun over and over again in your head is healthy.  It just makes you want it more.”
	“I….I can’t seem to…not think about it.”  Had Natalie even tried?  He was not sure.  It did not help there was very little in this mansion to keep his mind busy.
	“Fixating on it’s not going to help.”  Francine replied.  “If you keep running through that night over and over in your head, it won’t help.  The good thing is that, as more time passes, it’ll be harder to think about it.”  Francine smiled.  “In the mean time, I know you have an excellent imagination.  Try and think about anything else, especially when you find yourself dwelling on it.”
	“It’s even harder since she’s found out what excites you.   The sin that so easily ensnares you, so to speak.”  Regina added.
	“I know.  That’s why I know I can’t do anything to fight it.  I want it, I need it.  I feel like I’ll go crazy trying to suppress it.”  Natalie countered.  “But, I know it’s wrong.”
	“It’ll get worse every time you do it.  You said you feel empty now, right?”  Regina asked.  Natalie nodded.  “That’s going to grow every time you give in.  The urge to hold back will get quieter every time too.  Before long, you’ll end up like all those other maids that wandered around here in a mindless haze, gleefully accepting whatever rewards and punishments the skunk felt like throwing their way.  Until they got disappeared.”
	Natalie thought back to his first meeting with those maids.  Even before he knew what was going on, he could tell something was seriously wrong with Nancy and Gloria.  Even though they seemed happy, they also seemed terrified and anxious.  They were like drug addicts who knew what they were doing was wrong, but decided to just keep using more drugs instead of working on getting away from it.  This was mixed in with the attitude of a pet that had been beaten too often and was doing anything he could to avoid getting beaten further and to please their abusive master.  Natalie shuddered in revulsion.  “I don’t want to end up like them.”
	“I’m sure they didn’t either, at first.”  Regina said.  “But they gave up.  They decided if they were going to be made to sin, they might as well enjoy it.  It did not seem to make much difference.  If anything, it made it worse.”
	“I heard them talking about some of the stuff Mistress Circe made them do.”  Francine added.  “Her and Isabelle seemed like they invented new ways to humiliate them every time they thought it couldn’t get worse.  Every time they hit bottom, they found out that they could keep digging deeper.  Stuff I don’t even want to talk about.”
	“It…it can get worse?”  Natalie blinked.
	“You think she’s going to make you stop at the fetish garbage you enjoy?”  Regina tilted his muzzle back and eyed Natalie.  The mouse shrank back in his chair when he did.  “I’m sure she’s dreaming up all sorts of depraved stuff to put you through, just for the promise of getting something you think you want.”
	The mouse had a horrible, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  He thought of Isabelle.  How eager that rabbit was to indulge.  The teasing, mocking quality of everything he said when dealing with him.  Mistress Circe was the same way, if not more refined.  She seemed so pleased with herself when she found out how readily Natalie had given in.  What Regina said was true.  But, how could he fight this?  He felt he had no tools to do so.  “You’re right, both of you.  But, what can I do?  I failed once, I don’t think I can keep myself from sinning again.  Especially since we have to live like this.  I mean, these bodies, these lives are something out of bad erotic fiction!”  Natalie gestured at his large breasts, moving his paw down over his revealing maid uniform.  Natalie’s voice rose, building in panic.  “How do I know I’m not lost already?  What can I do to keep from turning into an empty-headed lust slave?!”  
	“Well, for one thing, people who’re completely given over don’t ask questions like that.  You’re still struggling because you still have a sense of shame.  You know that living like this is not ok.”  Regina answered.
	“And don’t blame yourself for being a victim.”  Francine added.  The wolf scooted a little closer and put his paw back on Natalie’s shoulder.  “None of us are here because we want to be.  We’re all prisoners.  We don’t have any control over what she does to us, no matter how she tries to convince you differently.”
	“I’d be gone in a hot second if I got the chance.”  Natalie replied.  That was the second time Francine touched him.  Usually, he disliked unannounced contact, but this felt reassuring.
	“All of us would.”  Francine nodded.
	“The stuff that the skunk inflicts on us, that’s on her.  She’ll have to answer for it someday.”  Regina said.  “She’s the one inflicting this wicked lifestyle on us.  Being a victim is not sinful.”
	“But….it felt good.  I actually liked it.  That means I failed…”  Natalie looked away.  The weight of his conduct with Gejfun still felt too heavy to bear.
	“C’mon, Natalie.”  Regina shook his head.  “You know better than that.  I don’t think one of us here hasn’t been guilty of doing something wrong.  Sin effects all of us.  Even here, the stuff that feels good can be….hard to resist.”  He sighed.  “I’m not sure how I’d react if Mistress Circe ever brought in someone pretending to be my wife.”  The thought alone made the fur on the back of the lion’s neck bristle.  “But you just have to acknowledge it, get back up, and keep fighting.  King David wasn’t a man after God’s own heart because he never sinned.  He was one because whenever he did sin, he begged God’s forgiveness and repented of what he did.  You have to do the same.  Don’t play her games, resist the temptation to do wrong, and keep fighting.  We’re not going to be here forever.  And you?  You’re strong enough you can do it.  If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have lasted as long as you have.  We all know you can beat this.”
	Natalie looked up.  He did not have to consider Regina’s words long.  Doubt lingered, but he was starting to feel better.  He doubted he would be able to resist if Gejfun showed up again, but he felt better about his chances.  They would all get out of here someday.   And Circe and Isabelle?  Justice would find them.  It always did.  “Thanks.  I’m going to get out of here even if it kills me.  I’m not going to let that bi……female dog.”  That was close.  “Play with me like a chew toy.”  He blushed.  Bad analogy.  “And when I do, I’m coming back for you.”
	“Good.”  Francine gave Natalie’s shoulder a squeeze.  “We’ll help however we can.”
	“We’re all in this together.”  Regina added.
	Natalie chuckled.  All this touchy-feely stuff was out of his comfort zone.  He nudged Francine’s paw off.  “We don’t have to hug it out or something now, do we?”
	“Absolutely not.”  Regina said.
	“It might help.”  Francine said at about the same time.  They looked at each other, then back to Natalie.  “Uh, no, we don’t.”
	Natalie just laughed.  They talked a little while longer.  They talked about hopeful things, better things.  They talked about ways they could rise above this place.  When they parted ways, Natalie went back to his room to clean up.  He was still worried, of course, but he would not let it get to him.  Let Isabelle try and take him tomorrow.  He was not going to make it easy for him. 

11)

	The next day came as every other day.  Natalie went through the same routine.  He did his best to put the events of the party behind him, switching his thoughts to before he came here.  It helped, if only a little.  He resolved to be as strong as possible.  If not for his own sake, then for the sake of the other maids.  He would do what he had to, but he would not give in to temptation.  Heroes should never resign themselves to being an evil sorceress’s playthings.
	Natalie was in a pretty good mood.  He slept well and cleaning the windows in the solarium was not the worst chore he could have asked for.  That lasted until Isabelle entered the room.  He noticed him out of the corner of his eye while he was standing on a stepladder getting the higher windows.  The bunny’s timing was always terrible.  In this pose, he could see right up Natalie’s skirts.  He mentally prepared himself for his disgusting advances.  Ignoring him was the best course of action.  Natalie kept polishing the glass and tried not to even look at him.  Several minutes passed without a word from the hare.  Complete silence from Isabelle?  Maybe he had a stroke?  Curiosity got the better of him and he turned his head to see what the rabbit was up to.  He was setting one of the tables with an elaborate porcelain tea service.  Something with lots of tea cakes, dishes of things, the posh, fancy things that a lady of refinement would enjoy.  It looked like Mistress Circe was preparing for guests.  Or, perhaps one large guest.  One of the chairs at the table was extremely wide and heavily reinforced.  It had thick cushions as well.  It was such a curious sight that Natalie stopped cleaning just to stare.
	“I see you watching me, Natalie.”  Isabelle’s voice snapped him back to reality.  “Checking me out?  I know you were standing up there so I could see up your skirt.”  The bunny clicked toward him after setting down the cup he was polishing.  “Well, don’t worry.  Tonight’s the big night.  Mistress says I finally get to play with you!”
	“I can feel my skin crawling already.  You should know by now I think you’re sub slime.  I hope you sleep with my knife close to your heart and think of me every night.”  His tail flagged up and wagged.
	Isabelle looked confused for a moment.  When the comment sunk in, his lips pursed and eyes narrowed.  He got what he was saying. Just a little crack to Isabelle’s usual smug, flirty facade.  It did not last long.  He smiled and chuckled.  “Oh, silly Natalie.  I know you want me.  That knife was a good gift, so of course I keep it close.”  He moved in and broadened his grin.  “And trust me, I know how to use a knife.  Had a lot of practice.”  He ran his tongue over his teeth in a way that made Natalie have to suppress a shudder.  He realized how little he knew about Isabelle.  What was he before Circe found him?  The bunny spoke.  “So be nice.  I want our first time to be special.  No rough stuff unless you make me.”  He blew Natalie a kiss and clicked back to what he was doing.  
No doubt about it, tonight was going to be horrible.  ‘Let him try it’ Natalie thought before going back to cleaning.  At least Isabelle was too busy to bother him again.
It was only about fifteen minutes before Mistress Circe arrived.  She walked directly to Isabelle, paying Natalie no mind at all.  At that moment, he was just the help, she had other things on her mind.  “Is everything ready, Isabelle?  Miss Hortencia Ruggles will be arriving within the hour.”
“Yes mistress.”  Isabelle replied.  “I made extra petit fours and her favorite tea.  The china with the hand painted hearts and swirls is spotless, and I got her chair out of storage, just as you asked.”
“What would I do without you?  Such a good maid.”  The skunk reached up and caressed Isabelle’s cheek.  He nuzzled into her paw happily.  “And did you acquire the….what is it, ‘sweet ‘n low’ for her?”
Isabelle nodded after kissing her palm.  “Mhm.  A big dish of it, just like she likes.”
“Good.  I think.  Ghastly stuff.  I hate even having it in my home.  But, she insists.  What else can I do?”  The skunkess shrugged.
“You’re such a gracious host, mistress.  She’s lucky to be a guest here.”
“Well, she is useful.”  Circe drew her paw back.  “Now go watch the door.  I want you to greet her when she arrives.”  Isabelle nodded and curtseyed before clicking off.
Natalie’s eyes were on the tea service.  He heard the words ‘sweet ‘n low’.  He recoiled at hearing it in such a way he nearly fell off the stepladder.  If it was what he was thinking of, it was mostly aspartame.  That stuff was deadly to candy fairies if ingested.  It burned if it even got on his skin.  Such a dangerous substance should be kept well away.  He saw it on the tea service; a dish full of white powder sitting near the place setting by the reinforced chair.  The mouse had an urge to leave the room.  He climbed down the stepladder and was about to leave, but stopped.  An idea occurred to Natalie.  He touched the collar around his neck and gave it a slight tug.  There was no give to it.  The band of silk and lace tightened up in response to being agitated.  The plan swirled in the mouse’s head, gathering details as he walked up to the table.  By that time, Mistress Circe had sat down to wait for her guest.  A book was in her paws, passing the time with idle reading.  She looked up at Natalie as he drew near.  “Admiring my tea service, Natalie?”  She smiled.  “It is rather lovely, isn’t it?  I had it custom made.  In fact…..”  
Natalie tuned her out.  He was not interested in how she got her overpriced, fancy garbage.  His gaze locked on the dish of sugar substitute.  Frayed nerves were making his paws shake.  He had to steel himself for this, as it was going to hurt.  He reached for it, mumbling softly as he did.  “Get busy living, or get busy dying….”  How he wished he had not left his gloves in his room.
“What did you say, Natalie?  And don’t touch that, it’s for guests only.”  Mistress Circe stated, but she sounded far away.  The mouse heard his name.  She was paying attention to him, so he had to move quickly.  He snatched the dish up as quickly as he could.  He held the dish in his left paw.  In his right, he poured the unholy powder.  As soon as it touched his skin, it darkened, shriveled, and started to peel.  White hot, searing pain shot up his arm.  The bare flesh, not protected by any fur, felt as if it had been dipped in boiling acid.  He gritted his teeth, trying to retain his presence of mind through the haze of agony.  “Natalie, what are you…..your paw!?”  Circe shouted with alarm.  He surprised her, that was good.  While she was talking, he slapped his paw up against his neck.  He ran it under the collar.  Even though he had fur there, it was inadequate to protect him from the corrosive properties of the false sugar.  His flesh burned, blistered and peeled.  From under the collar, the open wounds oozed cyan blood down his neck and onto his chest.  He felt as if he were being decapitated.  A scream of pain bellowed from Natalie’s muzzle.  He squeezed his eyes shut and fought to stay conscious.  Through it all, he felt the collar loosen.  He was right.  The enchantment was made to torment him, but not kill him.  Sensing the flesh underneath of it was dead or dying, it went slack.  He felt his magic return.  The collar was over necrotic flesh and could no longer block his power.  “Stop this at once!  I’ll not have you killing yourself, you idiot!”  Circe stood up, but Natalie was already shrinking his body.  His maid outfit shrank with him, the collar did not.  He went down to half his size and yanked the accursed thing off of his neck.  It bounced on the floor.
	“Grape escape!”  Natalie summoned all of his remaining magic, focusing it in one spell.  He shouted through a mouthful of his own blood, oozing internally and externally from his ravaged neck.
	“Grape escape?”  Circe blinked as she watched Natalie’s body shimmer.  The last thing he saw of her was the skunk’s face contorting into a familiar expression of rage.  The look was the one she gave him when he forced her to break her cool, confident demeanor.  “NO!”  She screamed before Natalie’s body blinked from existence.  All it left behind was a purple facsimile of Natalie’s form, made of gummy candy.  It was grape flavored, which Circe did not even like.  

	Father William Valentine was finishing his prayers.  It was the middle of the week.  There was no service until much later in the evening.  So, he had time to pray for all those causes to bring before the Lord.  Since Prince Nathan had disappeared, he made it a point to pray for his safe return.  It was the only thing he could think to do.  He was an older man, past his prime.  Slight of frame, even for a mundane human such as he.  He had thinning, gray hair atop his head and a short gray beard.  Being nearsighted, he wore a pair of wire framed glasses with thick lenses.  There was nothing of an adventurer about him.  He only hoped that those who had been out looking for the missing prince would return him soon.  It was a tragedy when anyone vanished without a trace.  It had been months.  Some had given up hope, but he had not.
	As he was about to leave, a bright, cyan flash illuminated the altar behind him.  He did not jump.  This was a fairly common occurrence.  A return spell to get an adventurer out of danger and appear in the church they last received a sacrament in.  Whoever they were probably needed help, so he walked toward the altar.  What he saw, however, was not a musclebound adventurer or hooded magic user.  What appeared to be a young girl was laying in a crumpled heap at the foot of the steps.  She did not stir.  Even with his poor vision and from that far away, the priest could see she was injured.  Blood was flowing from her neck, bright and cyan.  She looked familiar.  He ran up to her to get a better look.  Father Valentine knelt next to the injured girl.  “You’re going to be all right, my child, let me….”  The priest’s calm, kind voice faded as he spoke as he got a good look at her.  She was a mouse, one with wings.  That was not unusual.  She was dressed strangely, looking like a sex worker.  Someone like that would not be in a church unless they were in a very bad way.  That was not all.  Her wings were bound in some sort of ribboned torture device.  Just looking at it was painful, he could not imagine how she felt wearing it.  Then, the priest saw her markings.  They were unique, very unique.  They could only belong to one person.  She, or rather he, had been radically altered.  His body twisted until it could barely be called his own.  “Prince Nathan….what….what happened to you?”  The priest stared in shock.  He never dreamed he would be the one to find the prince.  He never dreamed that something this horrible would happen to him.  Who would do this to someone?
	The prince raised his head to look up at the priest.  His eyes were clouded.  A smile moved over his muzzle, placid and serene despite blood-stained teeth.  “I escaped….”  He said before passing out.

12)

	Five months passed, nearly half a year.  Two of those months were just spent recovering.  His injuries were severe.  The aspartame was still at work dissolving his flesh, even after he passed out.  Father Valentine, being a priest, was used to people appearing in his church bearing injuries of various severities.  He knew a lot about medicine, but knowing a number of healing spells helped too.  This was Nathan’s world, after all, and magic was not uncommon.  By the time the mouse woke, his wounds were cleaned and bandaged well enough to keep his blood inside of him.  He was on his feet in a week.
	More complicated was the damage to his shape.   His body had been twisted by foul magics into a grotesque parody of the female form.  Nathan was usually quite good at ridding himself of bad status effects.  The spells that Circe wove into his body, however, were very deep and very complicated.  It would take time to disentangle them from his essence.  He had to travel back home to seek more powerful counterspells to restore him to his former self.  After he burned the maid uniform and all the ridiculous underthings that went with it, of course.  That outfit may have been enchanted to change size, but it was not fireproof.  What a pleasure it was to watch the flames engulf it.  Perhaps, when he freed the other maids, they could all burn theirs in a great bonfire.  The thought made Nathan smile.
	For the journey home, he selected a traveler’s cloak and pair of loose-fitting trousers.  He chose clothing to be as baggy as possible to help hide his femininity.  Even so, it was an awkward trip.  Everywhere he went, he got stares.  He could hear people whispering behind his back.  He could only imagine what they were saying about the state of their prince.  They were embarrassing to hear, only serving to make him curse the skunk under his breath.  He was happy he could curse again, even though he still hesitated before doing so.  Sometimes, he had to feel his neck just to make sure the collar was not there.  Sometimes, it almost felt like he was still wearing it.
	When he returned home, the king and queen were overjoyed to see him, despite how he looked.  Naturally, they asked him where he was and why his appearance had changed so drastically.  While his story did allay some of their fears, it replaced them with a sense of justifiable outrage.  They could not abide by a sorceress inflicting such tortures upon anyone, especially not their son.  The king put his finest spellweavers, the best their small kingdom had to offer, to the task of disenchanting Nathan to where he was himself again.  Even with their skill, it took them eight months of small changes to restore him.  The formerly feminine mouse was never happier to be back to a weasel that was all man.  It meant he could finally go back to flying around nude.  Even baggy clothes were uncomfortable to a being used to streaking.  His natural form had enough fur to cover anything naughty anyway.
	The next three months were spent searching for a way to find Circe Faroda. The king offered to send out his army to scour the land for any trace of her, but Nathan refused.  The soldiers of his homeland were best used to defend the people, not to run off for a personal vendetta on behalf of a wandering prince.  They were needed at home and the weasel felt more than capable of handling this by himself.
	That was what he thought, anyway.  It proved to be a more complicated task than he realized.  His first plan was to find the wizard who sent him to that damnable mansion in the first place.  Surely he would be willing to barter for another ruby parrot or, perhaps, an emerald one.  There was no trace of him anywhere.  The crazy mage vanished, along with his entire secluded cabin.  A large crater that ran deep into the earth was in its place, not a good sign.  After that route was eliminated, it took him another month to find another wizard who had heard of Circe and was willing to send him there, but was unable to make a charm to form portals.  That was crucial, he needed a device capable of opening and closing doorways to there and back so he could easily transport the other maids out.  Returning them with him one by one was not a viable solution.  Another month after that, he found the wizard he was looking for, but she wanted payment in leprechaun gold.  No other gold would do.  Three weeks’ worth of convoluted fetch quests later, he paid her and received a wand of generate portal.  Fully charged, of course.
	A daring rescue was not the only reason that Nathan wanted a portal device.  He was not naïve enough to go it alone again.  He knew he was going to need help.  Not just any help either.  He needed someone who had a ridiculously high natural resistance to magic in all forms, hence why they could only be transported by portal.  Not only that, but they needed to be immune to shape changing.  He would prefer someone who’s body could not be changed, but whose mind could also not be changed.  A brute with a simple, single minded focus would be ideal.  The last thing he needed was for his partner to get charmed into attacking him.  That would complicate matters.  Old rumors came to mind.  A warrior from a distant world that would fit the bill perfectly, if he was more than a rumor.  It took Nathan another week of research, but he had a clue.  The man he was looking for would not be detectable through scrying or magical means, but he knew of a way to find him.  The rumors stated the fairies of his world always knew where he was.  That gave Nathan just the in he needed.

	Nathan flew through the back alleys of some nondescript midwestern town.  Another of those myriad small towns with only a few thousand people, if even that.  He could not remember the name the fairy he was with gave it.  Mount Vernon?  Mount Grunion?  It was Mount something, he was sure of it.  It did not matter much.  He glanced at the fairy hovering slightly ahead of him.  She was a similar size to him, maybe a bit more slender and wispy.  A little fox with butterfly wings in a mix of green hues.  She was wearing a one piece gown made of tanned rabbit skin.  She glanced back at Nathan as they flew.  “We are getting nearer to the beast of earth.  You are keeping up well with those odd wings?”  She had a very thick way of speaking.  The fairies here did not speak English as a general rule, but some of them had picked it up.
	“I’m keeping up fine.”  Nathan had felt like an outsider ever since he flew into one of their hidden villages.  He looked quite different from the fairies of this world.  They were a bit shocked by his nakedness when he arrived.  Some older fairies even covered the eyes of younger ones when they saw him pass.  Apparently, it was a major social faux pas to be naked outside of their mating season.  They provided him with a rabbit skin loincloth, which was very uncomfortable.  “Anything I should know about him?”
	“Not much.  He trusts fairies, we have been good to him, as we should be.”  She thought for a moment.  “He does not talk often or well.  Be very direct with what you want.”
	“So….he’s stupid.”  Nathan flicked an ear.
	“Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  It is hard to say.”  The fairy started to slow down.  “We are close.  He should be ahead.  I will let you see him on your own.”  She looked at Nathan and smiled.  “Maybe….we will be seeing you again?  The joinings of the harvest is in one week.  A foreign fairy with us could be…fun.”  She smiled and wagged her tail.
	Nathan blushed, knowing the connotations.  “Uh….I’ll think about it.”  No, he would not go.  He just got out of a sex dungeon.  It would be downright wrong to willingly go to a festival of debauchery.  The fairy bowed in midair and zipped off, leaving Nathan alone.  He mentally prepared himself for what came next, rehearsing what he would say in his head.  Meeting strangers was always hard, particularly ones who you want to form a battle party with.  It would be irritating if he said no, so he had to get this right.
	Around the corner he went.  At first, he did not see him.  It was dark, and the man was sitting down next to a large bin for cardboard boxes.  He seemed to blend in with the shadows around him.  Part of it was his attire.  He was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a long gray overcoat.  It wrapped his body in dark enough colors to make detecting him difficult.  His skin was the other part.  He had no fur, no bright colors, just flesh.  It was gray and ashen, not a color that Nathan could think of a name for.  The only hair he had was a messy mop of brown hair atop his head.  The rumors said he was ugly.  They were not wrong.  A hooked nose was on his unfortunate face.  His jaw was large and square, with thin lips.  There was not a lot of fat or tissue to his cheeks, giving him a gaunt and bony appearance.  From behind his bangs sat two eyes with irises the color of steel.  One of his oversized hands held a summer sausage, which he took a bite of with big teeth as Nathan approached.  He noticed his lower canine teeth were a bit more pronounced than the upper ones.  Urgh, why did Nathan always have to fixate on looking at everyone’s mouths?  Nathan could not sense any magic at all about him.  This was extremely odd.  Usually, he could get some sense of magic from any living creature, even non magic users.  With this man, it was like looking at a blank piece of paper.  A good sign, it meant the stories about his magic resistance being off the charts were true.  He was already watching Nathan as he flew up to him.  He probably noticed him the second he came within view and had been silently observing him.  Nathan hovered a safe distance from him and waited for him to say something.  He was silent, watching him.  Before long, it became clear he was waiting for the fairy to speak.  Nathan should have been more nervous.  It was an awkward meeting.  To ask for the help of someone with a reputation for being violent and volatile, a wizard killer, should have been nerve wracking.  Nathan had nothing to fear, being one of the good guys.  Once he told him about Circe, he was sure he would be on board with killing the heck out of her.  He cleared his throat.  “Hi guy.  I’m Nathan, it’s nice to meet you.”  He did a little bow in midair, always a fan of theatrics.
	The gray man blinked for longer than normal and then tilted his head.  He stared for a few seconds, long enough to make Nathan wonder if he understood him.  Then, he spoke.  His voice was very deep, very rough.  It sounded like it came from low in his chest, scratching all the way out as he forced it into the world.  The words came slowly and haltingly, as if it took him a lot of effort and concentration to form them.  “I am David.”  He gathered his legs under him and rose.  Nathan had to look up when he did.  For a human, he was extremely tall, but he was not exactly human.  His proportions were wrong.  Those arms were too long, figure too gangly and sinewy.  He had the look of a slasher villain in a dead teenager movie.  Much to Nathan’s surprise, he bowed in return with a hand on his stomach.  “Thank you for speaking, fairy.”
	Nathan smiled and tried not to chuckle at the sight of a giant bowing to someone as tiny as him.  “You seem surprised.  Didn’t think fairies could talk?”
	“Not my language.  Heard yours.  Do not know it.”  David replied.  He straightened out of his bow.
	“Ah, well, I can.  I’m really good at talking.  And puns.  I love being punny.”  Nathan’s tail rose and gave a wag.  David did not react at all, his stare did not waver.  “Aheh….anyway.  I need your help, big guy.  You up for killing an evil sorceress who treats men like toys?”  David nodded once.  He gave him a moment to say a catch phrase or something, but the man was silent.  How boring.  “Right.  I was one of her maids.  Just managed to escape a few months ago.”
David tilted his head.  “Hn.  How many of you are there?”  He asked, making one of Nathan’s ears twitch.
“Well, let me explain.”  Nathan fluttered over to one of the garbage bins and had a seat on it.  Hovering for extended periods of time was more tiring than one would think.  He took an hour to tell David all about his four months of torment with that evil skunk.  What she did to catch him, how she altered him, and the state of the other maids in the house.  He did not spare any detail of her evil ways, nor those of Isabelle.  Reviewing it made the weasel feel angry, even a little sick to his stomach.  David did not react much during Nathan’s diatribe.  His lips formed a thin line as it went on, his eyes narrowing.  It was hard to tell with that stone face, but he was angry.  That was good, he wanted him angry.  He stood up when done, waving his arms in dramatic flourish, he said “Well, what do you think?  Will you help me?”.
David shook his head.  Nathan was crestfallen.  After all of that, he would not help?  What kind of hero was he?  The man spoke.  “Already killed her.”
“…..what?”  Nathan’s tail slumped.
“Days ago.  Took her head.  Died.”
Nathan’s thoughts scattered in a dozen directions.  He was thrilled she was dead, worried for the other maids, and enraged he missed it.  He absolutely had to pump the gray man for details.  “She’s….dead.  Ok, ok.  That’s good and everything um….well, what about Isabelle?  He didn’t get away, did he?”  That hare was slippery.  It was possible that someone like David, not knowing any better, would have let him go, thinking he was another prisoner.  “Tell me you killed her damn pet rabbit!”
David’s left hand started to shake.  His gaze flicked down to it and he clenched his fingers into a fist.  It stopped.  Strange.  He looked away from Nathan.  “Killed him…..”
“You….you killed him too.  Good, good.”  Nathan let out the breath he had been holding in.  “I hope he suffered.  I hope you busted his balls too, asshole.  Rapist.  Whatever you did, it wasn’t enough.”
“Hn…..”  David clenched his fist again.  “Killed him slow…screamed.  Had to break his face.  Then kept going….”
“Heh, all right, don’t strain yourself telling me all about it.”  Nathan enjoyed that little description.  It warmed his heart to hear that justice had found them.  Getting it from a brute like David made him feel a little better about missing it.  But, the other maids.  “Were there…I mean, did you rescue anyone there?  Regina?  And Tanya and Jennifer, Samantha and Catherine, Beatrice and Francine?  They were all okay?  Please, tell me they made it out.”
	David looked up for a moment, as if remembering.  He then looked down and nodded.  “Yes….think that was.  Plus two.  Squirrels.”
	Relief washed over Nathan.  They were safe.  They made it out!  The rescue Regina hoped for finally found him!  It almost made up for the fact that Circe captured more after he left.  “Squirrels?  She was busy….”  Nathan muttered.  He looked back up at David.  “Where did they go?”
	“Do not know.”
	“You don’t know?”  That did not sound very heroic.  “You don’t check up on them?  Didn’t hear where they’d run off to?  They were altered, that has to make life hard.”
	David shook his head.  “Brought them back.  Do not need a hero now.”  His hand shook again.  “Or a monster.”  Fist clench. 
	“I see…”  The tremors did not escape Nathan’s notice.  They were hard to ignore.  Pressing the issue would be uncomfortable for both of them.  Nathan decided to let it go for the moment.  Circe was dead.  Isabelle was dead.  Nathan was happy about that, but he was not done.  There was one more person on his list, someone who needed to be stopped.  “In that case, I have one more person I need your help with.  A shapeshifter.  Think you’re up for that?”
	David nodded once.  “Will help, fairy.”
	Nathan grinned ear to ear.  “Good.  Hope you don’t get portal sick.”

13)

	David walked forward along a winding dirt road.  They were in a rough part of town, and it was after midnight.  The buildings were old, tall, wooden things, decrepit and decaying.  Windows were mostly boarded up, as glass was too easy to break and more of a luxury than the inhabitants could afford.  It was the kind of town David might have been familiar with, though not this town.  He was not even in his home world, having taken Nathan’s portal to get here.  The fairy sat perched on his shoulder.  He directed the man where to go.  David’s eyes were slowly moving from left to right and back again, surveying as he went.  He was bony, but Nathan could feel the muscles tensed up under his dirty, gray overcoat.  This was outside of his comfort zone, but he was adjusting well.  Nathan only had to wait half a minute for him to get over the initial portal sickness.  Guilt over bringing him here after his harrowing ordeal with Circe did not occur to Nathan.  Heroes were used to moving from one battle to the next.  David did not complain, and Nathan did not expect him to.
	Near the end of the dirt road, they saw their destination.  A well maintained, two-story building that stood out among the ramshackle tenements.  The outer walls were stoneware with wooden crossbeams.  The walls had been painted white, the beams dark red.  While the paint had faded over time, it was not chipped, probably applied within the last couple of years.  The windows were numerous and had actual glass.  There were no curtains on the lower floor, but all the upper windows had them.  The large, double doors at the front were wide open and raucous sounds could be heard from within, even when David and Nathan were far away.  A sign hung upon the overhang.  It depicted a black silhouette of a nubile, curvaceous female wolf anthro.  Written next to the vaguely pornographic image were the words ‘The Bitch’s Blush’ in ornate script.  Nathan inclined his head as they approached.  “That’s the place.  Gejfun should be inside.”  Even while the fairy was looking for Circe, he did his homework on the shapeshifter.  She was to be his next target after he dealt with the skunk.  The way she drained people, warped their minds, and killed them had to be answered for.  He shuddered at the memory of the emptiness and want he felt after their tryst.  It was made worse by the fact that she was a native of his world.  She had been doing this for a long time.  He could not let it go on in good conscience.  “You remember the plan?”
	David nodded once and kept walking toward the tavern.
	“Good.  Just don’t wander off.  I want you to be there when I yell for you.”  Nathan did not fully anticipate needing him.  Without the collar, he could handle a measly shapeshifter.  Having the backup would be nice, just in case things got rough or she had friends.
	“Stop worrying.”  David curtly replied.
	“Ok, ok, just don’t get overwhelmed.  No one’s invincible.”
	David nodded again.  The conversation ended; they were just a few strides from the front door.  Around it were a few people splayed out on the ground.  They were passed out, but looked like they were breathing.  Drunks that had enough money for drinks, but not enough for a bed to sleep them off.  A few women and men stood flanking the door.  One of them approached David.  She was a chestnut colored mare.  A fur that was a bit short, a bit stout, but still tried to pour herself into a skimpy corset and pair of panties too small for her.  She was wearing too much makeup and too much rose water.  An aging whore trying to look young.  Looking at her attire gave Nathan bad memories.  “Well hello, warrior.  Looking for some company?”  She reached out and touched David’s arm.  As soon as she touched the gray man, he brought up an arm and shoved her away.  She caught herself on the wall.  Her lips pursed, but she did not look surprised.  “A ‘no’ would have worked, asshole.”  Nathan tried not to laugh, despite being nervous that they were going to get into a brawl before they even entered.  David said nothing.  He kept walking to the door.  Not getting a response seemed to annoy her.  She called after them.  “Yeah, that’s right, get out of the way of the paying customers, freak.”  He did not give her a second look as they passed the threshold.
	Once they were out of earshot, Nathan spoke to him.  “That was close.  You’re going to have to behave yourself.  I don’t want us to get kicked out before we find her and you can’t go killing everyone here.  Some of them are decent people, I know it.”  David looked at him and raised an eyebrow.  Nathan blushed.  “I mean, they can’t all be evil enough to need killing…..”  He cleared his throat.  “Anyway, you’re going to see some weird stuff…hear some bad stuff, but don’t go berserk.  Gejfun might get away if you do, and she’s the most evil of them all, okay?”  That may or may not have been true, but Nathan did not want them in trouble with the town for killing their money maker.
	“Hn….”  David exhaled.  “If I hear screams, will save them.  Even if I have to kill everyone here.”
	Nathan winced, but nodded.  “Sure….”  He had the feeling that was the best he was going to get.

	The duo entered the tavern’s main floor.  It was bigger than it looked from the outside and packed with a variety of sentient creatures and some, perhaps, less sentient.  The room had a bare wood floor with innumerable scratches on it.  To Nathan’s left, tables and chairs were scattered about, all of them occupied.  On his right, a long bar stretched from one side of the room to the other.  The din of conversation hung in the room.  Shouting and laughing and crying and flirting.  The noise was such it was hard to pick up any details.  Nathan looked up at David.  The gray man’s eyes and head were slowly panning from one side of the room to the other, then back again.  Threat assessment, that is what it had to be.  Nathan kept looking around and spied a figure at the far back table.  They were wearing a bright, colorful cloak, a familiar cloak.  Nathan would recognize it anywhere.  The way he felt when she ate him, and the shameful way he felt afterward, had cemented her appearance in his mind.  She was by herself, which Nathan was thankful for.  He floated up next to David’s ear so he could hear him speak.  “There she is, the one in the bright clothes.  You see her?”  David’s eyes turned toward the woman.  He was looking right at her, telling Nathan that the man was watching the crowd.  He nodded.  “Good.  Just keep me in sight and follow me when we go upstairs.”  Again, the man did not speak, but his head bobbed in assent.  David moved back and leaned against the wall by the door so he could watch the crowd.  His facial expression had not changed, but Nathan could tell he was not comfortable around this many people.  Sitting down at a table and putting his back to any of them was not something he would tolerate.  Nathan could not blame him.  He did not trust most in here either.
	He flew down the bar toward his target.  In his head, he went over what he would say when he came face to face with her.  Nervous energy filled his body.  His libido had to be tightly reined in.  Memories of the pleasure he felt with her had to be pushed out of his active memory.  Setting eyes on her again had caused them to bubble back up to the forefront of his thoughts.  Push them back down, keep them away.  He could not afford to be distracted by a pretty face.  Not just any pretty face, but the face of the stoat of his dreams.
	“Well, lookit here.  If it ain’t Prince Nathan.”  A familiar voice, tipsy and rough, brought him out of his private thoughts.  He halted in mid-air and rotated to see who it was, even though he already knew.  It was one of the bartenders, leaning on the bar either for comfort or support.  He was a bugbear, adequately groomed and wearing a pair of black trousers and a stained apron with no shirt.  Knife scars were etched into his arms and chest, a hazard when you work in a rowdy bar.  He had been tending bar here since the place opened.  His best friend owned it, so did not mind that he worked drunk pretty much every night.  Free booze was hard to resist for a bugbear.
	“Hm, hey Wheeler.”  The bugbear bartender’s name was Wheeler.  Just Wheeler.
	“Good’ta seeya.”  The bugbear grinned with his perfectly straight, yellow teeth.  “Decide to come slumming with us again?  S’been years.”
	“Something like that.”  Nathan looked away.  He went through a wilder phase in his youth, sure.  He just wished he had not.  “Actually, I’m meeting someone.  Can’t really chat.”
	“Heh, chasin’ skirt again?  Or maybe chasin’ gut, right?  Hah, don’t let me keep ya.  You want a drink, lemme know.  Might even throw in a free one for your lady.”
	“Yeah, you would.”  Of course, he would sling complimentary spirits at a royal.  Try to curry favor, or maybe liquor him up enough to have some fun with him.  He knew Wheeler well enough to know he was not offering out of a sense of friendship or kindness.
	Nathan’s pulse sped up as he neared Gejfun’s table.  He mentally prepared himself for any charms she might throw at him.  Hopefully, it would be easier facing him on his own terms, without a compliance collar wrapped around his neck.  Sitting at her table, she did not appear threatening.  A cloaked figure with a wooden goblet of clear fluid sitting in front of her.  Before Nathan approached, she had her head tilted so the opening of her hood was toward the crowd.  Searching for her next meal, perhaps?  Once he was close enough to be noticed, she turned her head toward him.  He opened his wings and dipped down to land on the table a few inches from her drink.  Her head turned to follow him.  “Why, Natalie!  What a pleasant surprise!  I was just thinking about you.”  Whether or not that statement was true, the weasel had the feeling she was smiling.
	“How’d you know it was me?”  Her recognizing him immediately was a little surprising.
	“How could I ever forget a morsel as special as you?”  Gejfun responded.  Immediately, a fiery blush burned in Nathan’s cheeks and ears.  “Even as a weasel, even without your feminine trappings, I know you.”
	“Ah, um.  Good to see you again too.”  Nathan forced out the few words that seemed to automatically come to his flustered lips.
	“I must say, it’s unusual to see one of Miss Faroda’s maids outside of her mansion.  Especially out of uniform.  And without any of her changes.”  She put a hand to her chin.  “In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one of you away from there.”
	“Uh….”  Think fast, fairy.  “She and Isabelle are busy, so she sent me to ask you something.  They figured a maid as….cute as me would attract too much attention in a place like this, so made me look like my old self.”  Nathan drew in a breath to spit out a loathsome lie.  “Kind of miss my short skirt and big breasts.”  Ugh, just saying it made him feel like he needed a chemical bath.
	“Hm….I see.”  A light chuckle came from under her hood.  “I wouldn’t worry too much about that.  I’m eager to see how this effects your flavor….tell me, has Isabelle had his way with you?”
	Nathan fought to keep from vomiting.  “Y-yes.  It was….different.  He’s very good at….things…”  He tried to look shy, but he was really trying to keep from breaking the table in half.
	“Mmmm, I see.  Even better.”  She reached a gloved hand out and stroked Nathan’s headfur.  His anger and revulsion vanished almost immediately.  “We can talk in private.  Is she expecting you back soon?  Please, please say no…..”
	Nathan smiled.  “No, she said I get a couple of days.  A reward for being such a good maid.  I’ve been thinking about you every day since….you know.”  That last sentence was not entirely false.
	“Good.  I’m so happy.  I’m so hungry, and no one here has smelled appetizing.  A room full of greasy cuts of cheap meat.”  She rubbed a finger under Nathan’s muzzle.  “And you come along, with the heady aroma of a royal banquet.”  Despite himself, the weasel felt a swelling of pride in his chest.  The more worrying feeling was desire.  He tried to fight it back down, keep it under control.
	“Mmm…..I make my own gravy too.  Hehe.”  Nathan grinned up at her and wagged his tail.
	“Don’t I know it.  Follow me.  I have a room.”  She rose from her seat and walked toward the stairs at the back of the room.  Nathan flew off the table to follow her.  Before he started up the stairs, he glanced back at David.  The man had been watching them.  He had already pushed himself off the wall and was wading through the crowd after them.

	The Bitch’s Blush had a number of rooms on the second floor.  All private, all for rent.  Nathan did not remember how many, but all of them were used throughout the night.  A place like this tended to charge by the hour.  They made their way to a room near the middle, weaving around the people going in and out of their rooms with different beings who sold their company to the horny.  When they reached Gejfun’s room, she shut and locked the door behind them.  While the shapeshifter walked to the other side of the room, he discreetly unlocked it, hiding the sound with a loud cough.  A flimsy door like that would not be an obstacle for David, but the noise might draw more attention than he wanted.  She walked to the curtains, red silk things, and pulled them shut before sitting in a chair by the window.  “Here we are, Natalie.  It’s not quite as grand as one of Miss Faroda’s guest rooms, but it will do.”
	“Please, call me Nathan.”  The fairy wanted to dissociate himself from that name as much as possible.  It was a weird name for a man.
	“Ok, Nathan.”  She chuckled.  “I thought it looked like your collar was gone.  Looks like you really did leave Miss Faroda’s employ.”
	“Congratulations on figuring out the obvious.”  Nathan doubted he could keep her in the dark for long.  “What of it?”
	Gejfun tilted her hooded head.  “I’m not mad or anything, but you shouldn’t have lied to me.  But, don’t worry.  You’re such a little sweetheart, I wouldn’t dream of turning you in.  Now I get to have you all to myself.”
	“Yeah, well….”  Was all Nathan could say before Gejfun lowered her hood.  He immediately fell silent, gazing upon the face of the stoat of his dreams.  She reached a paw up and brushed a lock of her hair away from her blue eyes.  It fell back to partially obscure it and Nathan would have had it no other way.  It looked so hot like that.
	“Were you going to finish that thought?”  Gejfun replied.  Her tongue delicately flicked out between her lips and ran over them.  Nathan could not take his eyes off of her muzzle as she talked.
	“Um, haba…what…what was I saying?”  Nathan stammered out.  
	“Must not have been important.  And, I see you’re very happy to see me anyway.”  Gejfun’s eyes flicked down to Nathan’s crotch.  His coat of fur could no longer hide his obvious arousal.  He ditched the loincloth the fairies had given him when he left David’s world.  The fairy’s knees felt weak.  He was fighting the urge to fly into her mouth mid-sentence, knowing what was coming if he did.  She must have sensed this, because she kept talking.  “What are you waiting for?  Come to me, my bite sized lover.”
	Nathan was about to do as she asked.  That shameful, needy arousal filled him.  The emptiness had returned the second he saw her stoat form.  He felt as if the sensation could only be filled by what she would provide him.  With every ounce of willpower he had, he closed his eyes and turned his head.  “David!  Get in here now!”  He yelled, perhaps a little softer than he meant to.
	“David?”  Gejfun raised an eyebrow.  She was not looking at Nathan any more.  The door opened and in walked the gray man.  He shut it behind him.  His hand went up and clicked the lock in place.  He did not want to be interrupted either, but for different reasons.  For just a moment, the shapeshifter frowned.  It was quickly replaced with a smile.  “You brought a friend?  And a big one too….wonder what his orgone tastes like?  Wouldn’t be the first time I had a group.  Ride him as I roll your little body in my belly….”  She tilted her head toward him.  David looked at her impassively.  “Not a talker?  Well, that’s okay.  Let’s see what you desire….”  She looked David over, eyes flicking across his body from head to toe.  She frowned deeply this time and tried again.  While she did, David reached his left hand back, drawing out a sickle.  When she tried a third time, her frown was replaced with a look of distress.  “I….I can’t see anything.  Nothing at all…..”  She put a hand to her muzzle.
	David looked down at Nathan.  “This her?”
	The fairy nodded.  A small part of him felt bad for her.  A larger part was enjoying the show.  “Don’t worry, ‘gay fun’, he’s not going to eat you.  Just kill you.”
	Her eyes traveled down to the sickle in David’s hand.  A wicked, curved blade that glimmered in the lanternlight.  “Wait!”  Was all she had a chance to say before David lunged at her.

	Five minutes later, the gray man and the fairy escaped through the tavern’s window.  David left a pretty big mess of what used to be a shapeshifter in there and they did not want to stick around when it was found.  Another five minutes and they were outside of the town.  Nathan thought he would have to slow down for the gray man.  He was small, quick, and could fly while David was lumbering and gangly.  However, David moved with an odd grace through the alleys and side streets.  He seemed at home, running and darting through the shadows and around corners.  He kept up just fine.
	Once they were safely out of town, they slowed down.  Nathan went back to his sitting spot on David’s right shoulder.  The weasel was giddy with excitement.  He felt that way whenever someone particularly evil had been brought to justice.  It almost made up for the fact that he felt sick to his stomach.  The kill was not quick and definitely not clean.  The gray man seemed to enjoy hurting her for reasons other than justice.  He looked down at David’s hands.  He was still holding the sickle in is left one, dripping blood and scraps of flesh.  He brought it up and took a handkerchief out of his overcoat pocket to clean it.  He should not have expected David to say something about the whole ordeal, but he would have liked it.  It fell on him to say something.  “That was….brutal.”
	“Yes.”  David replied before slipping the sickle behind his back.  His hands came to rest at his sides.
	“Um…did it have to be?”  Nathan asked.  He watched David’s left hand when he did.  It shook slightly and he clenched a fist.
	“What she deserved.”  David replied.
	“Well, did you really….”
	“Stop.”  David spat.  His tone was a lot harsher than it had been before.  The word came out rough and guttural, almost a snarl.  Nathan shrank back on his shoulder, fearing he overstepped his bounds.  David must have seen him out of the corner of his eye, because he felt him relax.  “Sorry, fairy.”
	“It’s all right….”  Nathan started thinking, remembering.  He had seen something like this before.  It happened to warriors that had spent a long time fighting.  A long time in battle after battle after battle.  “How many people have you killed?”  He asked.  David did not answer.  The weasel allowed him time to count them.  After a few minutes, it became clear he was not going to.  Well, Nathan was happy to repeat himself as often as he had to.  “Hey, David, hey, listen!”  The fairy yelled in short, staccato bursts.  David shifted his eyes to Nathan.  “How many?”
	“Hn….”  He let out a breath.  “Do not know.”
	“I…see.”  Nathan’s ears lowered.  That cemented it in his mind.  The gray man was going kill crazy.  It explained the tremors, the anger, and how paranoid he acted around people.  It could not all be personality.  If he left him to his own devices, he might just go off the deep end.  He hated to see it happen and not just because it would take a lot to bring someone like him down.  It was hard to see any hero fall.  He sat on his shoulder, going quiet for a time.  David kept walking.  After they were about a mile out of town, he spoke again.  “You’re coming with me to help the maids you freed.”
	David stopped walking.  He turned his head to look at Nathan and raised an eyebrow.
	“I know you heard me.  I’m not going to take no for an answer.”
	“…..Have their lives.  Cannot help them anymore.  Only know how to fight.  All I am good at, all I can do.  Do not need me now.”
	Nathan’s eyes went wide.  Was that five sentences in a row from him?  He took a couple of seconds to get over the shock.  “Um…hm.  Well, there’s more to being a hero than killing the bad guys.  We have to save people too.  Do what we can to fix them, give them a life worth living back.”  Nathan’s tail wagged.  “I mean, they were still all…weird and feminized afterward, right?  Bet they were still in their stupid maid outfits when you cut them loose.”  David nodded.  “You probably knew where they went, right?”
	“…..No.  Was busy with the rabbit….”
	Nathan tried not to smile.  With what he saw the gray man do to Gejfun, he knew what happened to Isabelle had to hurt.  “Right…well, we can figure out where they are.  I tracked Gejfun, I’m sure I can find a bunch of old maids.  Former maids?  Probably a better term.”
	“Do not need me, then.”
	“Oh the Hell I don’t.”  Nathan stomped a foot on David’s shoulder.  The man did not even feel it.  “We’re a team now.  I couldn’t’ve taken out Gejfun without you.  That….charm of hers was too much for me.  I need a big, sexless brute to teach me how to be hard as nails.”  He smiled and pointed.  “And you could use some softening up.  Big, grim, and dour went out with the nineties.”  David blinked, then nodded once.  “….Oh, and I might need some of your blood.  Hey, hey, hey!  Don’t give me that look.  They use blood to make medicine without magic all the time.”  David must have been getting sick of Nathan talking by now, but he showed no sign of it.  If Nathan did not know any better, he could have sworn he was smiling a little.
	“…..Fine.”
	“Good.  Well, let’s get a move on, then!  Mush, noble steed!”  Nathan commanded.  David did not move.  It took Nathan a full minute to realize he was waiting for him to make a portal to get them to their next destination.