Caldar's Conundrum Part 1

Caldar's Conundrum Part I
	~by Thameless

Deep in the Underdark, amid the blisteringly polished gleam of ruddy purple marble in the House of Duskryn, at the awning before a stairway descending into the tertiary slave pens, stood Caldar the house guard at a sloppy attention.  Shorter than normal, rapier poking up awkwardly even in its scabbard, a bit too scrawny and not quite handsome, Caldar was the least desirable of all house guards.

Caldar was never one of the stronger males, nor one of the faster.  He couldn't sneak or steal very well, and he'd only wound up a house guard for House Duskryn as a last resort to avoid being sold to a mind flyer for a mid-afternoon snack.  His mind would've been delectable, however, because he was one of the smarter men.  Intelligence had got him out of a few scrapes, saved his life a time or three, and landed him a post outside the slave pens "looking pretty by the statuary," as his commander had told him with two firm swats to his cheek and a pinch of his ass.

She'd been making a cruel jest at his expense, of course--he wasn't a very pretty boy.  And there were few less trustworthy men than smart men, which meant he was always at the top of captain's shit list.  He was ridiculed before his superiors, before his inferiors, he'd even been made to drop his rapier and pick up something a scullion slave had dropped--while the slave was whipped, of course.  She'd gotten a slight reprieve, however, when instead of cleaning her own blood off the floor Caldar had been made to do it "for picking it up so quickly" or, as he suspected, at all.

So it came as a great surprise to everyone, Caldar most of all, when the captain came to a stop with a brisk clap of her sanguine thigh-high heel boots before his post one day and turned a smart 90 degrees to face him.  The leather of her bodice hugged her bosom perfectly, and he couldn't help but let his glance stray for an instant.  Then shivering he shot back to attention and tried to avoid looking at the captain in the eye.  He wound up looking at the lower portion of her neck, which was also lovely.

"I'm fucked," he thought.

"Stand at attention," she ordered, and before Caldar could finish tightening his stance and sucking in his gut her long-nailed, rough fingers grabbed his balls through his leather armor.  Caldar's eyes shot wide open as her vice grip twisted him in a half-circle and a crooked grin sprouted across her otherwise military-stern expression.  "I didn't say stand erect, soldier.  Tsk tsk."

"Look at this pathetic excuse for a soldier," she called to Caldar's fellow guards outside the pens.  The men were used to it, and chuckled while maintaining their strict stance.  "Couldn't even fight his way out of nursery.  Tell me again, Caldar, why you're up here guarding the slaves and not down there with them?"  Caldar's heart dropped and he swallowed, heavy and serious, before braving a response--

"Because I'm clever, captain."

"Oh?  Clever?" she narrowed her eyes.  "You know what we think of clever underlings in House Duskryn, don't you Caldar?"  Oh, shit.  He'd fucked up.  The slave hint drop had scared him, but he shouldn't've suggested he was wise beyond his station.

"I mean, a clever fool, an idiot, a walking mis--"

"A walking mistake?  Idiot?  Fool?  Hardly someone we should be trusting with that."  A sudden flash of a blade, her daggers unsheathed, Caldar closed his eyes and prepared for the end--but the blades swished by, he opened his eyes again, and there was no blood.

Instead, his rapier belt clanged to the floor.  Along with his pants.  He was revealed to the whole hallway to be wearing a pair of Drider silk panties the captain had replaced his undergarments with for failing to exhibit sufficient masculinity, laughingly calling it a 'reward' and saying he was 'feminine beyond his ken.'  The laughter was far less restrained and orderly, then.  Caldar's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"C-c-captain, I-i wore them like you t--"

"Shut your mouth, whore," the flat of a cold blade struck his exposed ass and stayed there. "From now on, you're going to do something worthwhile for the House--catering to exotic tastes in the brothels."

"Wh-what kind of tastes could I satisfy?" he asked, mystified and temporarily somewhat relieved.  The brothels sounded way better than being a guard.

"Simple," she said with a devious smile.  "The kind who seek a fat ass like yours," her hand returned to his groin as the flat of her blade glided across his ass and this time flipped out his cock before pincering the mid shaft tightly between her razor sharp nails.  It broke the skin a bit, and stung, "with the added bonus of a little cock in the front."

The captain stripped Caldar of his post and lead him to the concubine's quarters.  There, new clothing--form fitting, ass lifting, hip hugging clothing--was found for him, and he was forced into it by a smirking attendant.  The cruelty in her smile stung even more over the generous boob window in her dress, and this was only the beginning of Caldar's transformation--but it was the part he'd remember the most.

After he was dressed and trying to fidget in his new clothing, the madam fitting him unwrapped a bright pink cube in a bit of thin cloth and placed it gently on his lips.  Suspecting if it was poison she'd have just stabbed him already anyway, he took it into his mouth and swallowed, and thus, it began.