Mark entered the changing room. Well, the satyr costume did look fun. More original than a simple toga, certainly. Maybe the store was actually the opportunity to impress the frat and leading to him being accepted. A blessing in disguise, on short. Once inside the changing room, he undressed. He was as bit wary about slipping the furry bottoms without any actual underwear. Was that really hygienic? He winced at the thought that others had done the same. But surely Merlin would have washed them, right? He decided to try on the costume without any underclothes. If only for a few seconds. If it felt uncomfortable, he'd put back his boxer s and slip it on again.
As soon as he slipped on the suit, he was very surprised. First, the hooves were in fact platforms that were more practical and comfortable than he would have ever imagined. Second, and it was the most pleasantly astonishing, the pants felt great over his lower body. Wonderful, even! The feeling upon his skin felt silken and delightfully similar to delicate massages. The material was of high quality and just made this costume a pleasure to wear! Merlin was right! He knew his job because the costume fit him to a tee. The crotch of the costume was the best, if the most intriguing. It hugged delicately his privates. Almost lovingly, in fact. The costume, quite astonishingly, had on the level of the groin two pouches and a sheath, all for the wearer's genitalia. And it squeezed and held his own perfectly and snuggly. Did Merlin judge accurately, incredibly so, his privates through his pants and boxers? That must have been magic! Or was it an amazing coincidence? Probably the latter, but still... These thoughts, like the odd sensations, fabrics and the very presence of genitalia pouches were quickly dispelled as he revelled in the incredibly soft, snug and warm feeling that spread from his groin to the rest of his legs. This costume was the best! He added the ram horns as a headdress and looked at himself in the full-length mirror. Wow! He looked quite... dashing! More than he would ever have suspected from wearing fuzzy pants. He took a few steps. Not even tentatively. The high-heeled style platform hooves looked natural. Not ridiculous at all and clearly easy to walk around with. Even the ram horns looked incredibly realistic. Only slight pressures could be felt upon his upper forehead, barely noticeable really, and he couldn't even tell the headband was there, even when he patted his scalp between the horns. Merlin's costumes were unbelievable! He should totally work for movie special effects directors! While he was entranced by his great dashing new appearance, Mark did not notice a slight smell wafting into the changing rooms, and not just his. As he admired the impressive figure he cut, he finally came to smell an odor which resembled incense. But with a musky and smoky tinge added, it seemed. It did smell good and he inhaled it. Yet Mark started to feel drowsy too. Maybe he hadn't eaten enough today? He sat down on the ground so the dizziness would go away eventually. The pressures upon his forehead increased slightly and he fumbled to removes the headdress. But try as he might, he could not find the headband in his hair. He then attempted to remove it by the ram horns but that didn't work. The things looked stuck, or glued. Well, the headache was getting dull, and Merlin would help him later.
Mark felt increasingly dizzy. It was getting difficult to think straight. Instead, he gave in to other impulses that seemed fun. Like patting the fur of his pants with little giggles. He curled in upon himself because it felt pleasant and safe and comfy. He could ask for help but frankly, it didn't seem worth the effort. He was very comfy here. Very secure too. And the smell was nice too. Why would he ask to get out for the moment? He yawned and his mind was powerless to keep the drowsiness from taking over his body. The sleepiness was slow and sweet in coming, though and without an afterthought he lay down, curling upon himself as his eyelids drooped. Taking a little nap wouldn't spoil going to the party a bit later, surely? And it felt so much more pleasant anyway. There wouldn't be the nice incense, relaxing silence and lying down in the softest fur over there. He drifted off to the land of dreams happily and he slumbered on as the incense worked its magic - literally. His fur, horns and cloven hooves became an integral part of his body first, so slowly and gently that he barely stirred in his sleep. He did not shift either when the regression swept across his body in waves, leaving him as a tiny satyr infant of barely six months-old. Mark merely curled upon himself more and instinctively placed his thumb into his mouth. A similar fate affected the other pledges in the changing rooms.
Merlin opened the locked door of the changing room with a simple wave of his hand. Time to pick up his new darling victims. Clones of the eleven frat pledges were already on their way back to the frat house, wearing all simple togas. Mere illusions who would give the impression of them having last been seen at the party and directing suspicions away from him and his store. The clones would vanish before sunrise, apparently from the party. Of course, searches would occur and the fraternity might get in trouble but Merlin had very little pity for these. He had had an unpleasant history with them, even though it had seemed quite appealing and interesting at first, back when he had been part of one, a prestigious academic one, back when frats served actual purposes and catered to honest interests and knowledge. Well, it was a long time ago...
He smiled as he saw Mark, or rather the baby satyr that used to be Mark. All had worked perfectly, as usual. He almost cooed at the sleeping goatling. Adorable! This one would sell for a good price. Any prospective satyr parent would gush at his cuteness. If the eleven other youngsters had turned out even half as well, well, his day would not have been wasted. Quite the contrary! Moving his trade to a college town was really a stroke of good sense and great source of profit. And magical research, which was exactly what he had hoped for. He picked up delicately the infant faun, wrapped him in a baby blanket pattered with smiling yellow stars and placed him in a wicker cradle which resembled a basket. It was cushioned abundantly and Merlin placed a little teddy bear next to Mark, who snuggled and clutched his new toy instinctively. Hopefully he'd stay that way and his cuteness would attract a lot more adopting buyers. Merlin smiled. He should get all the babies settled in their cribs and cradles before he closed the store for the night and travelled back the fay world. Or if another customer came in before and had to be dealt with.
The mannequin just stared at Merlin's work, moving its eyes as the wizard busied himself with the tasks at hand. He tried to speak out but only low moans, not even enough to be heard, escaped his throat. He could not tear his eyes away from the infant satyr happily sleeping like the proverbial baby, aptly enough. And to think that he had been a teenage boy not long ago! He would be reduced to the same fate if he had not angered Merlin and if the wizard had not taken revenge upon him. But being a fay infant seemed at times, quite often in fact, a better fate than his at the moment. True, he had been a jerk, a little, to Merlin in particular, but how was he supposed to know that dork was a wizard? If he had known, he would not have bullied him. He would have left him alone. So it wasn't fair! He couldn't know Merlin had powers to make him miserable! It was fun to laugh at people and to make them cry. It was funny. He and friends all did it. So why did he suffer that punishment when his pals got off easy? Sort of. He could not know Merlin would be so powerful and mean when he bullied him. If he had, he would not have been so mean. But how could he know? He could not, so he was not to blame. So the mannequin stayed miserable, while he waited the much-awaited time where he would take another gesture, the only sad thing he could look forward now.