Glitz, the handsome half-few stag, led the way to the fitting room.
Greg followed after him and shivered as they wandered the cool hallways of the tailor shop. Which, apparently, was actually a front for a secret underground criminal organization called Tarturus. He really wished he had a blow dryer because the towel was just NOT helping at all. Fur stuck out in wild clumps everywhere, and he was hoping the free grooming was still on the table.
They entered into an octagonal-shaped room, covered with mirrors and closets and a stool right in the middle. A table filled with pincushions and tape measures stood a little off to the side. Another table next to it appeared to have textile scissors and hair scissors. Everything one would need for a proper groom and tailoring session.
“Stand on the pedestal, please.” Glitz said.
“Oh, I try to never put myself on a pedestal.” Greg grinned.
“Indeed.” Glitz grinned back.
“Sorry for the bad joke.” Greg frowned. “I’ve never been to a tailor before.”
“Just relax and follow my instructions. I promise you’ll enjoy this.” Glitz reassured him. “Now, if you'll step up over here I'll start by taking some measurements.”
Thankful for the reassurement, Greg complied.
Glitz pulled out a fabric measuring tape and circled the cat, repeating numbers to himself as he measured multiple areas. Greg was a lithe twink, but he couldn’t help but notice the torso measurements seemed far too long for him and the limb measurements much too short. Still, the stag appeared to know what he was doing.
“So, you ran into the hag?” Glitz said conversationally as he worked.
“Yes,” Greg grimaced. “It was weird.”
“I suppose it would be. There’s a reward for…inhuming her if you manage it.”
“Inhuming?”
“Kill.” Glitz explained.
“Oh. Right.”
“She’s a terrible presence around here. Used to be part of Tartarus but got greedy and was excommunicated.”
“You were allied to a hag?”
“We’re professional assassins. We’re allied to all sorts of unsavory characters. Even I am unsavory.”
“You don’t seem…unsavory to me.” Greg whispered.
Glitz smiled. “No? We shall see.”
That sounded rather ominous to Greg, but the buck appeared to be happy around him. As long as Greg was polite, he felt like Glitz would be polite. Most bad people had lines they drew. Rudeness would be an excuse. His thoughts soon drifted elsewhere.
“Excellent, you’re a little bit shorter too, so I’ll have to adjust that as well,” Glitz said with a smile, stepping back and reevaluating his measurements. “I believe I've got the perfect thing to start off with.”
“Oh?” Greg looked on with interest as the stag pulled forth a 12-inch model figure of a mink in golden armor over red and white robes. The shoulders even had golden epaulets. The fabric was embroidered finery and the armor seemed to have both a glamorous functionality to it. It wielded a huge ruby sword. On the base, an inscription describing it read: Mink Prince. “That looks amazing!”
“Thank you. My designs are considered the most elegant of the tailors in Tartarus.” Glitz nodded. “Would you care to change anything about this figure?”
“Customize it, you mean?”
Glitz nodded solemnly. “I am open to some suggestions.”
“I do like it, but I’d also like something if we get into inclement weather. Like a cloak. The red, white and gold color scheme is nice, perhaps lion decorations as a call back to my original form.” Greg said. “Uh, and the weasel seems a bit dainty for a sword that big. It’s basically the same size!’
“Mink. But I suppose we could give him a bit more muscle.” Glitz played around with the figure. The slim mink’s body grew toned, and it was clear that there was some serious muscle hidden under his lithe form. A cloak appeared over the figure’s shoulders. The pauldrons became ornate lion’s heads. “There. What about this?”
“Nice. But what if they stab me in my chest?”
“Magically enhanced threads. Should function like medium armor.” Glitz replied. “Nemean lion fur around the ruff, I should think.”
The figure’s outfit changed a bit more, being tweaked by the master tailor with slight shifts in his fingers. Soon, the mink was garbed in an outfit fit for a prince ready to go to war and look absolutely fabulous doing so. It was stylish and functional.
“I love it!” Greg breathed.
“Excellent!” Glitz clapped his hands. “I apologize for my lack of decorum, but I do so love the design process! This IS unique.”
“So what now?” Greg asked.
“Hold still while I work my magic.” Glitz pulled out a golden needle. “You’ll be fitted in no time!”
“Oh, wait. The mink’s color was really important. Do you think it would still look good on me?” Greg asked.
But no answer came as Glitz swung around towards a nearby tailoring bench.
The magic buck pulled fabrics from the cupboards in the walls and laid them out on the fine wooden table. Reaching underneath, Glitz pulled out a set of glimmering, silver shears that Greg swore weren’t there a second ago. Light flashed off well oiled metal as Glitz worked with the precision of a master craftsman, leaving Greg awestruck as he could only gawk in amazement at the sheer speed and accuracy with which the stag worked.
Glitz’ quick, well practiced motions were a show unto themselves. Greg was so memorized by the spectacle that he was shocked when Glitz called out “All done, and in less than fifteen minutes too!”
“Had it really only been fifteen minutes?” Greg wondered, before his attention turned to another question: how was Glitz going to work on the armor-
Glitz pulled out a small anvil and sheets of gold metal and began hammering away. The metal accoutrements were soon finished. Then the sword, which was pulled from a pool of liquid scarlet goo and quickly solidified into shape. Glitz brought out a grinding wheel and quickly sharpened it, then polished the armor and the blade.
“There!” Glitz wiped his brow and glanced up at the clock above the door. “An hour! Ha, record time! Alright, let’s throw this on you.”
Undergarments and stockings came first.
They slid on easily enough. Greg realized they may well be made of silk, considering how soft they were. Then came his pants. The pure white colored formal breeches looked like they would be to short, but oddly enough, when he passed his legs through them, they seemed to fit rather decently. He felt dizzy when he stood back up. For some reason, the stag appeared a bit taller than before. Maybe an inch or two, but it was still disorienting.
“Are you alright?” Glitz asked, taking Greg’s arm.
“Uh, ye-yes sir.” Greg replied woozily. “Just feel shorter, for some reason.”
He didn’t notice his tail growing longer and fluffier, the fur a pure white color as it wriggled in the hole in the breeches behind him. Glitz looked behind Greg and smiled. He brought over the shirt and coat.
“Uh, this thing looks too long.” Greg said, examining it.
“Trust me young master, it will fit.”
“Young master?” Greg frowned but said nothing as he shrugged on the shirt.
It dangled far past the bottom of his pants, even below his oddly bowed legs to the top of his stocking covered paws. He buttoned it up as best he could, but it was like his arms were shorter. Greg found that he had to pull the shirt up to finish buttoning it. For a second, he thought the fur on his paws was silkier and fluffier. It even looked like it had taken on a shade of bone white… but that had to be a trick of the light.
“Let me help you tuck it in, master.” Glitz smiled as he gently tucked a few inches of shirt in.
“It still looks lon-oh!” Greg gasped as his spine lengthened in a series of pops. “D-Dook!”
“Don’t worry, I still have you.” Glitz said, one of his arms supporting Greg’s longer, flexible spine as it continued to grow. His other hoofletted hand was stroking the lengthening anthro’s torso.
Greg felt the air whoosh out of his lungs as his abs spasmed, contracting and becoming rows of hard cobblestone. The gentle hooflets traced them as the buck ran his hands down Greg’s stomach. His back spasmed again as his chest muscles flexed themselves into a pair of tight pectorals. The increasingly mink-like cat yowled in pleasure.
“See? I told you it would fit perfectly.” Glitz smiled down at him.
Greg wanted to tell the handsome buck to stop, but his body was so warm and soft and each touch of those hooflets was electric. The waistcoat went on, then the jacket. It fit perfectly. Then came the cloak, and as it was clasped, the stag began to cinch it tight to Greg’s neck.
The soon-to-be-mink dooked again as the bones in his skull painlessly cracked and crunched, shifting into the face of a mink. He reached up to stop the other-worldly buck, claws grasping fruitlessly at the strong hooflets.
Greg could feel new memories creeping in, memories of a kingdom on a far-away continent. Of growing up the second of a pair of twins. Of being educated and pampered, not to take the throne per say, but because the throne needed a backup.
He remembered being treated as though he was simultaneously important and insignificant. He remembered being told over and over again of the few minutes that separated himself and his brother - the difference between a destiny of greatness or obscurity.
He remembered the day his arms were shackled in irons. Nobody had told him, but he had known nonetheless – his father had died and his “older” twin had taken power. He was a backup without a purpose, unless that purpose was to be an usurper.
Which wasn’t to say that his brother had been wrong. He remembered the meeting the night before, when the leaders of the Noble Faction, upset over his brother’s plans for reform, had pledged themselves to him instead.
Then his memories grew fuzzy and vague. He’d been sent… somewhere. And rescued by a handsome wolf with midnight black fur and… someone else? It was strange, like a word that was on the tip of his tongue, he could remember that he wanted to remember someone, but not who that person was.
“There we go, young prince.” Glitz said softly. “Let the new identity in. It isn’t so bad. I could have given you a myriad of lives, but none would be so exquisite.”
“How is this possible?” Greg gasped.
“Finally a smart question.” Glitz smiled not unkindly. “The Prince was a client, who asked to change his identity along with his faithful bodyguard. Some other rogue from Tartarus rescued you, but in order to keep your bonds of companionship, I’m replacing that person with Charles. I believe he’s now a happy fox who loves baking pies in a small village right now.”
“But my character! My life!-!”
“Will be replaced.” Glitz leaned in and his voice changed suddenly, to something familiar and incongruous: Finn’s voice came from his mouth. “And you also didn’t hand me a backstory despite my asking for it the last two weeks! How the hell am I supposed to give you character moments!”
“But-ah!” Greg moaned as the buck’s hand descended, lifting his waist band and undergarments, closing around his meager cock. “Isn’t this bad?”
“You’re an adventurer. Time to go reclaim your throne, my Prince.” Glitz’ voice returned to normal. His hand began to stroke Greg’s swelling tool.
Greg dooked, writhing in pleasure as the handsome buck jerked his engorging shaft. All the while, the buck cinched the clasp of the cloak tighter and tighter. His memories of the other world were fading, being replaced with his life in his father’s court. Greg tried to hold on but the stag’s hands were expertly coaxing him to completion.
His skull popped into the shape of a mink’s at the same time the clasp cinched tight to his throat. The lithe mink let out a soft, desperate cry and came. Thick warm semen oozed from his slick pink shaft, lubricating the buck’s fist. Glitz didn’t stop stroking him off, each spurt from the mink’s relatively long shaft heralded the loss of his old identity and the birth of the new one.
Greg finally relaxed in the stag’s arms after the fifth spurt, having lost most of his old life to be fine with the process. The lithe Prince bucked his hips into the stag’s fist, eager to be rid of the vestiges of the strange cat boy he’d obviously pretended to be and return to his regal form. Glitz smiled as the young Prince sagged into his arms after three more spurts, completely finished.
“How are you feeling, my liege?” Glitz asked.
“Well done by, Glitz.” The Prince yawned. “Can you clean me up?”
“Of course, my liege.” The buck snapped his fingers. “Prestidigitation.”
Immediately, the copious cum soaking the pair of them vanished without even a trace. Glitz picked up the miniature-which was now that of a small cat boy- and placed it in a cupboard nearby. The regal mink finished putting on his armor and picked up his Ruby Blade before heading out the door. He paused.
“Where are my companions?” Gregory asked.
“Master Charles is practicing his knife throwing skill. Geoffrey shall be along shortly. I must tailor him, you see.” Glitz smiled.
“Of course.” Prince Gregory walked down the hall.
He passed by an absurdly fat bear, who was waddling towards the fitting room. Gregory paused and stared in horror. Was that Geoffrey? What the hell kind of identity was that?
“Geoffrey?” The mink paused.
“Uh, it’s Jeff.” The fat bear’s eyes narrowed. “Greg?”
“Prince Gregory!” The mink drew himself up, tapping his blade on the floor for emphasis.
“Well, at least he fixed you up. Like the mink look.” Jeff patted his belly as it rumbled. Gregory eyed him with clear distaste. “Did you get a new class? You were a Barbarian before.”
“Barbarian?!” The mink’s eyes flew open in outrage. “How uncouth!”
“Uh, yeah, you were a really hot lion barbarian. Are you okay?” Jeff eyed the mink more critically. “You sound…different.”
“And you sound uneducated! Honestly, how in the world did we end up with these horrid identities. I requested specifically to live a comfortable life.” Gregory muttered angrily under his breath. “And what the hell are you supposed to be then? The village’s pie eating contest champion?”
“A wizard, dumbass.” Jeff scowled. “You’re not Greg anymore, are you?”
“Pfft, a wizard. Sure.” Gregory rolled his eyes.
“Of course I’m a wizard!” Jeff pulled himself up indignantly. “I studied for it!”
“Have you cast a single spell?”
“Ummm...Shit!” Jeff cursed. “Not…during the last couple of days. But I can!”
“Oh ho!” The mink jabbed a sharp claw into the fat bear’s stomach. “You just THINK you’re a wizard then!”
“I’ve never had a reason to cast a spell!” Jeff shot back.
“Gods, get tailored and get rid of this obnoxious form.” Gregory rolled his eyes and strode past the bewildered bear.
Jeff stared after the well-dressed…Prince? Then he turned towards the fitting room. Glitz stood waiting at the entrance, a smile on his face. He noticed Jeff staring at him and bowed, extending an arm, gesturing an invitation.
“It’s your turn.” Glitz spoke, a glint in his eye.