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A Little Peace of Mind

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To pay off his tab, a guy has to work as a barmaid!
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dreadknots
dreadknots
1,505 Followers

Hiii! Sorry for the pause between stories but I've been working on this big one here! Bar maids! Glamour magic! Foxgirls! Trans girls! I LIKE THIS STUFF YO AND I HOPE YOU WILL 2.

This story will have some GENDER FEELS, as a warning. There's a little lewd at the end but it's mostly fuzzy. I hope you enjoy!

***

"Seventy five gold drakes," the red haired Kitsune said, her arms folding under her impressive breasts. Behind her, a floofy tail of similar colouration swished back and forth with pensive energy.

Uri spit the mead he'd been drinking. After coughing out the rest, he sputtered, "Seventy five?!"

She smiled weakly. "I kept track of all your purchases. You've enjoyed forty-five beverages, stayed in a room for four nights, and had...five dinners over the course of the last week."

As much as he wanted to deny this, Uri's mind recalled the long period of debauched spending in between the haze of intoxicating beverages that his provincial constitution had not been used to. Whatever alchemical process "dis-tilling" involved, it made a damn fine drink.

Had it really been a week since he'd cleared that dungeon?

Though his bow and the rest of his gear was still in the room her was renting, Uri had all the bearing of a man who made his money killing things and delving deeper than anyone should go. He was slight of build, though his arms and legs still carried firm cords of muscle. His rigid posture and fidgeting fingers gave the impression of a man who was pulled as taut as his bowstring. Tense, ready to snap back at any moment and let loose. The liquor helped with that somewhat, but someone didn't unlearn a lifetime of skills, training, and a healthy dose of paranoia overnight.

He reached into the purse that held his supply of coin. It hung off the leather belt of his green wool breeches, thin clothing that looked more draped over his thin body than worn on top. All his clothing had to be a little loose in order to fit his leather armour underneath to keep a much of his torso from getting skewered. The belt helped, though it did make him look like he was wearing hand-me-downs from an older brother.

Feeling around for what was assuredly a great bounty of coin, he found only three. And judging by the familiar ridges on the sides, they were silver wyverns, not gold drakes. If that was true, somehow he'd blown through twice his current bill. What on Aegat had he been buying?

"Shit." He pulled out what he had with an apologetic look. "I thought I had more." The bartender made a face, pocketing the paltry change.

"So...how are you going to make up the rest?" Zin asked. For the briefest of moments, Uri thought about making a break for it. His furtive glance toward the door might have given away his intention, because the foxgirl was quick to add, "And I wouldn't recommend trying to flee. You'd be surprised how confusing an inn can be to someone with my kind of charm magic."

As Uri watched in horror, the room shifted in shape and scale until it seemed that the door was a mile away. Walls closed off in front of him, snapping up like curtains blocking his path. He was certain that none of it was real, he was equally sure that he wouldn't be able to tell reality from illusion until he gave up. With a sag of his shoulders, he turned around on his stool.

"I can make good. I just...don't have the money now. If you let me-"

Zin wagged her finger back and forth. "Oh no. I know all about you adventuring types. I'm not letting you go dungeon delving to get your riches. You're as likely to die or get turned into a Goblin as come out with enough baubles to pay your tab. No. You work it off here. With my generous pay, you'll be free and clear in...six weeks."

"Six weeks?! No offence, but I don't want to tend bar for six hours!"

The kitsune's smile widened enough to show off her prominent incisors. "Who said anything about becoming a bar tender?"

...

Once he had moved his stuff to one of the smaller (much smaller) accommodations reserved for the staff, he came face to face with his new uniform.

"I am not wearing that!" he said. His every fibre crawled and tried to wriggle away from the sight of the clothing. A dress. And not just any dress! It sported a frilled top to display cleavage, if he had any to spare. Frilled hairband, stockings, even a pair of black shoes with a little bow on the laces. The exact kind of outfit he saw on all the other girls in the bar.

"Our establishment has a very strict dresscode, Mr. Uri. I'm afraid I'll have to insist."

He turned from the outfit. Currently, he wore nothing but his smallclothes. His underwear left very little to the imagination, though Zin didn't seem to notice the bulge in his briefs. "Can't I just be a waiter?" Uri asked.

She shook her head. "Sorry. People come to the Peace of Mind for a particular experience. I'm sure you're very familiar with this. Would you, yourself, come to our fine establishment with the expectation of being waited on by a dirty adventurer fresh from the field?"

Uri bit his lip. He didn't want to look like TOO much of a pig, but one of the reasons he had spent his coin and his time at this establishment as opposed to the alternative across the road was that every barmaid who worked there, without exception, was a stunning beauty. There was Kyr'ani, the Elven girl with the beautiful voice. Nessa the halfling cutie with the golden eyes and, yes, massive tits. Even Gretta had her appeal. Though older in years and only human, she had a husky voice and dark complexion that drew Uri in like a fish on a hook.

"I don't know what to tell you," he said while giving her a demonstrative spin, "But nobody's going to mistake me for a woman."

"On the contrary. Very few will see you as anything but." Zin said. She steered Uri over to a sheet of polished bronze that served as the changing room's mirror. With his head held in place with her fingertips on either side, she whispered words in a strange, lilting language. The words slipped in his ears and out the other, completely forgotten almost the moment their noise reached his brain. Their effect, however, was pronounced. The reflection in the mirror began to warp. Like a mirage, he shimmered as his image changed.

His short, dirty blonde hair had turned into golden locks that spilled down to his back. Substantial breasts pushed out from his body, as did hips that would make a farmer's daughter blush. His wounds and old scars vanished, as did any trace of his masculinity. His underwear appeared to cover little more than a pubic mound at the front. He also somehow had lost several inches in height, yet still saw himself at the same level. It was all so very confusing, as it often was with magic. To the naked eye, he was a very appealing young woman.

His voice caught in his throat. He wanted to escape his body, to flee this sudden forcing of an unfamiliar form onto him. But there was another sensation too. Another...it was impossible to articulate. It was as if he'd had a weight on his chest his whole life and it had just been lifted off. The feeling, though pleasant, was confusing and frightening at the same time. He mentally waved it off as his general attraction to pretty girls. That had to be it: the incongruity with being attracted to yourself. He'd always kinda disliked his appearance, so turning into a form that got a rise out of his various parts must have been a shock.

He looked down, expecting to see the changes manifested there as well. But he was still is mundane, male self to his own eyes. He cupped for the large breasts but felt only air.

"The change isn't quite real," Zin explained. She wrapped her arm around Uri. He kept his height, easily over six feet, meaning that only the very tips of her fox ears were on level with his chin. "Anyone with an eye for charms and glamours, or creatures with mage-sight, can see through the illusion. To most people, however, you're a woman. Which means you need a name. I'm sure people know you as Uri. Do you have-"

The word came unbidden, spilling out of his mouth before the archer had any idea it was coming. "Lianna."

Zin raised an eyebrow. "You had one prepared?"

Uri asked himself the same thing. Where the hell had that come from? "I don't know, I just...liked the name. Always have."

She nodded, though a quizzical expression remained on her round face. "Very well, Lianna. We can go through your responsibilities later. First...let's get you into your new uniform~"

***

Descending down the stairs and into the main tavern area, Uri, or Lianna as he'd be now known, felt his heart hammer in his chest. He walked slow, feeling every eye that glanced his way like it was feeling up his body. The greedy looks from some of the male patrons were a situation he'd never before experienced. Sure, occasionally a drunk or forward man had taken an interest in his slender body, but not a room full of horny old goats as it seemed to be now. Even some of the female patrons, and there were some, took an interest.

The uniform looked utterly absurd on his body. He had no breasts, so the plunging, cleavage-exposing hole only revealed his hairless sternum. The skirt too looked absurd. It only clung to his waist through the help of his old belt. Otherwise it'd be fluttering around and giving patrons way too much of a view if he wasn't careful. According to Zin, there were some things the charm could not hide altogether.

He stutter-stepped over to the bar, where his new boss was beaming her satisfaction at his new apparel.

"You ready to get started paying me back, 'Lianna?'" she asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be." He leaned into the bar, trying not to attract attention. But he soon realised that the illusion magic that cloaked him would make it seem like he was sticking out a rather prodigious rump. He immediately shot to his usual rigid stance.

"You have to loosen up dear!" Zin slid a tray of drinks to him. He took it, surprised by the weight but managing to hold it without spilling...much. "Take it to Table Six. And try not to look like such a...a..."

"Man?" he provided with a sigh.

"I was going to say 'fusspot', but yes that too I suppose." she said, holding her hand out toward his destination, "You're a natural! Believe in yourself and your inner cuteness. Now go get 'em girl!"

Uri made his way over to the table as slow as humanly possible. Not only was he reluctant to find out if the magic was really working on everyone else, he had no desire to start this absurd charade. Him? A woman? Nobody would believe it, even with the charm magic clinging to his body.

"Ah, our drinks!" one of the bearded men at the table declared, opening his arms wide. Uri flashed him a slight smile and set down each large mug in turn. Three people, three beers. Not too challenging for his first task.

"Need anything else?" he asked in what was almost a whisper. To him, he still sounded like the teenage boy he'd always thought he'd sounded like. But whatever glamour the foxgirl had placed upon him had clearly affected his voice too.

"How about your name, cutie?" the largest man at the table asked. Before Uri could respond, he felt a large hand grasp his backside. He fell over himself getting away! He managed to spin out of his grasp, blushing brighter than Zin's hair.

"I...I..." His mind blanked. He almost spouted his real name. His calm returned, and the name he'd thought of returned after a moment's frantic grasping. "Lianna. I just arrived."

The big man nodded. "Well, thank you for the drinks Lianna. Be sure to stop over here later. I'm sure we all have some...tips, that we'd like to give you." The other males at the table grinned at his childish wordplay. It was just awkward enough to be the kind of terrible joke he might have tried on a woman himself.

As it was, he regained confidence enough to respond. "Sorry honey, I only appreciate 'big tippers.'" With a flourish, he turned around and headed back to the bar. Rather than cry upset, the table behind him exploded into laughter! Had he done alright?

Zin was beaming at him when he returned. "That was incredible! Your badinage is almost professional! Are you sure this is your first time as a cute maid?"

"Of course it is!" His voice drew attention his way. No doubt because the glamour had made it sound almost like a squeak. He tried his best to calm down before continuing. "I just hit back with some banter. All guys can do that."

The foxgirl looked dubious, but continued to direct traffic and orders to get Uri accustomed to the system they had. He delivered food and beverages, only stopping long enough to trade a few ribald remakes or japes with the patrons. There was a problem with the occasional wayward hand or questing grope of his body. Though the glamour made him seem to be attractive, he had no idea what exactly they were feeling when they tried to rub his 'tits' or squeeze his ass. They didn't seemed perturbed by his lack of substantive flesh around those areas, though Uri himself had to brush it off and step out of the way as quickly as possible.

He took orders from tables as well, doing his best to remember the long list of information maids were expected to recall about the Peace of Mind's services. Some requested food and drink, which was easy enough. Others needed rooms, which was no problem either. One or two of the customers had wanted time alone with some of the maids. That was a tricky situation, since only some of the maids were inclined to offer those kinds of services. One of the women requested did not ply that particular trade at the establishment, so the lusty patron had to be steered toward one of the women who did. They shared hair colour and build, so the negotiation was easy enough. It had still made him flush when discussing, frankly, just want kinds of services were on offer.

***

After the last customers had either stumbled off to their rooms or had shambled out the door, it was up to Uri and the other bar maids (who were not otherwise occupied) to clean up. That was a lot of work too, but he felt relieved that it had gone so well. People seemed to like him when the glamour was on. He could pretend, at least in short bursts, to be a serving wench. He hadn't expected it to feel so fun! Perhaps it was just another form of running a con on someone. He was no stranger to practical jokes or laying traps for his foes in dungeons...this was just like that.

Stiil, the way people treated him had been novel. He was seen as an object of desire. The groping wasn't pleasant, but the idea that others yearned to touch him had a validating aspect to it that he couldn't deny. Even though, logically, he knew it was just Zin's magic portraying him as a busty barmaid, his subconscious couldn't help but translate that into him, Uri, being desired by other people.

And that felt good.

Zin approached him as he got the last of the crumbs and spills out of one of the side tables. He only caught her face out of the corner of his eye, but her pleased expression was clear. "I had no idea you'd be such a winner! You got more tips than some of my regular girls."

Uri kept his focus on the table. "I was just doing what I was told to do. I just...want to work off this debt."

"I know, I know. I'm just saying that, if you want, you have a career in the barmaid industry waiting for you afterwards."

He nodded shakily, unsure what to say about that. This job hadn't been the worst thing in the world, and he seemed alright at it for now. But the thought of doing it for more than a few weeks was scary. Stuck in one place? Treated like an attractive woman by every horny lech who barrelled through the door? That didn't sound appealing!

He could only chalk up one night down, forty-one to go before he could get his freedom back.

***

At first, the days passed slowly. In the mornings, 'Lianna' learned from Zin and some of the other maids. How to walk, how to stand, how to look enticing. It was the best way to get tips, after all, and the quicker he earned his gold drakes the quicker he was free. He gained a new wardrobe, donations from other girls who took pity on him. Most only saw him as a lost young woman who behaved and acted strangely. Only some, like Kyr'ani the Highborn Elf who herself was on the run, could see through his guise. But she never outed him. She was his best teacher in fact, showing him all the lessons in femininity that he'd been denied from his own upbringing.

At night, he plied his trade. He took orders, delivered them, even poured from behind the bar when Zin's attentions were needed elsewhere. He received more than his fair share of looks, and even more unwanted touching. Once he was pulled fully into the lap of a very gregarious Orc who had taken a liking to him. He felt the large man grow stiff underneath him. Uri was helpless against such strength, and whimpered at the treatment lest his secret be discovered. Just before the Orc's stubby fingers found their way beneath his skirt, Zin came to the rescue. Whoever the fluffy kitsune appeared to be on the outside, the drunken lout was fearful of invoking her wrath. He apologised profusely, leaving a rather generous tip on his way out.

But the incident rocked Uri. He wasn't a brawler or someone who prided himself on his strength, but he'd never seen himself as vulnerable before he'd started his career as a barmaid.

He was still caught up in his own thoughts when Zin pulled him aside after the Peace of Mind had closed for the night. Before he could try to tell her that he was okay, she wrapped him in a huge hug. She was much stronger than she looked, and though the circumstances were different, he couldn't help but be reminded of the encounter with the Orc. For the first time since his adolescence, he started to cry. But Zin didn't pull away. Neither did he. He cried in her arms for a time that he later found out was almost half an hour, but had only felt like a few minutes. When he was done, Zin pulled him along to her room at the back of the establishment. He slept in her bed that night. There was nothing sexual in that, despite the fact that she was a attractive woman. They shared a bed because he needed to share something with somebody, and the kitsune knew a lost, lonely soul when she saw one.

***

Thanks to his education and the support of the other maids, he could reach the end of his employment in four weeks rather than six. In two day's time, he would have all the drakes he required to pay off his exorbitant tab and be on his way. He'd gathered his adventuring gear in his room out of the old storage truck that he'd placed them in, setting them on his bed next to his maid outfit. He looked between the two. The familiarity of the bow and the cuirass called to him...but against his will, so did the frills and stockings of his other garments. It was like being caught between two worlds, unsure which side of the dividing line to step into.

This had been a punishment at first, but it had grown into something more. A costume turned into an identity that he himself was unsure was even a disguise anymore. Lianna was almost her own separate personality now. She was flirty, quick-witted, and exuded a fragility that Uri himself could dare not express. For now, he dressed into his maid apparel, and tried not to notice how better it made him feel than the harsh leather and rough cotton of his old life.

There, halfway through his shift, a hard case of reality came lurching through the door.

He had just placed a large bowl of stew in the center of a table. There, startled by the sight of three men in combat gear, he barely noticed the heat coming from the metal pot. He left it and a large spoon to the customers to ladle into themselves before taking off to the back. Perhaps he could find a spot to hide among the large sack of potatoes in the cold cellar.

dreadknots
dreadknots
1,505 Followers
12


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