The steam from the bathhouse clung to my skin like a humid memory, every pore on my body clean and raw.

  As we emerged back into the main room of the inn, I felt like a different person. My muscles were still slightly shaking, a lingering, rhythmic trembling deep in my thighs that I couldn't quite suppress.

  Joshua and Alan were already there, dressed in simple tunics provided by the house. They both stood up the moment we appeared, their eyes widening in a synchronized look of confusion.

  I was radiating a visible warmth, a soft flush that wouldn't leave my cheeks. My steps were soft, slightly uncoordinated, and heavy with an erotic afterglow.

  "And Eren looks like she just won the lottery," Alan added, his blue-streaked hair damp against his neck. He watched the cat-girl as she skipped ahead of me, her tail flicking with a smug, knowing satisfaction. "What happened in there? Was the magical water that... rejuvenating?"

  Eren just winked at them, her mismatched eyes sparkling with a secret she had no intention of sharing. I didn't say a word. I couldn't. My tongue felt heavy, and every time the cool draft of the hallway hit my damp skin, a wave of lingering sensitivity made my breath hitch. I just stared at the floor, my platinum hair slightly damp and sticking to the nape of my neck.

  "Here," Alan said, handing Eren a bundle of clothes they'd picked up from the bathhouse's small boutique. "We thought you’d want something more... casual... than the suit for the night."

  Eren grabbed the bundle and rummaged through it until she found a specific piece of fabric. With a mischievous grin, she tossed it to me.

  "Try this on, Tay-Tay," she chirped. "It’s much more 'village-appropriate' than that rubber."

  I caught the fabric. It was a white dress, but as I held it up, my face went from pink to a violent, burning red. It was revealing and minimalist.

  The white fabric appeared soft and fluid, gathered and twisted strategically to accentuate curves. The overall shape was sleek, body-hugging.

  A modern, sculpted aesthetic.

  "I can't wear this," I whispered, the smoky lilt of my voice trembling. "It... it barely covers anything. It’s basically an invitation."

  "It's the only 'female' attire they had in your size, Taylor," Alan said, though he didn't look away. His gaze was already tracing the lines of the dress in my hands, imagining the revealing aesthetic against my new form.

  Joshua cleared his throat, his feet shifting nervously on the floorboards. "It's... it's just for the night. Within the room. No one else will see."

  I looked at the dress, then at my friends, my "crew." I took the dress and disappeared behind the privacy screen. I began to dress, the soft, fluid fabric wrapping around my waist with a careful hand.

  The heavy timber door to our room creaked as I finally stepped inside. The transition from the latex armor to the white dress had been a struggle of soft fabric and angles. As I walked into the warm glow of the hearth fire, the conversation between the boys and Eren stopped.

  Their reaction was a physical force. Joshua, sitting on the edge of his bedroll, dropped the cloth he’d been using on his mace; it hit the floor with a dull thud. Alan, usually the picture of elven composure, leaned back against the wall, his ice-blue eyes widening as they tracked me.

  The dress was a masterpiece. The deep plunging neckline highlighted the heavy, soft swell of my chest, while the open side cutouts exposed the pale, smooth curve of my waist. The hemline danced around my powerful thighs, and every time I breathed, the fluid fabric shifted over my curves with a distractingly soft rustle.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  "Is... is it that bad?" I asked, my voice a melodic, self-conscious whisper. I felt the weight of femininity differently now; I felt lighter, more vulnerable, and strangely more "present."

  "Bad isn't the word," Joshua managed, his voice sounding like he’d swallowed a handful of gravel. He looked away, but not before I saw the runes on his arms flare a bright, panicked gold.

  "It’s... structurally significant," Alan added, his clinical tone failing him as his gaze lingered. "You look less like a weapon and more like... well, something worth starting a war over."

  I sat on the edge of the large bed next to Eren, the soft mattress dipping under my new weight. "I checked the HUD. Hygienic/Sleep Mode has a max of 8 hours," I explained, trying to sound like the "old Taylor" despite the thin fabric plunging over my chest. "I guess I can't keep the nanoweave latex inside the body for too long or the system starts to overheat. I’ll have to switch back to the suit for combat, but for now..."

  I looked down at the white fabric. Internally, a treacherous part of me, the part that had hummed during the bath, realized I didn't want to take it off. I liked the way it felt. I liked the way the boys looked at me, not as a glitch, but as something precious.

  "You look great in both, Tay," Eren chirped, bouncing on the mattress and causing the fluid fabric of my dress to shift scandalously. "The suit says 'I'll kill you,' and the dress says 'Please worship me.' It’s a win-win!"

  "Okay, okay," I said, my face still warm. "We need to focus. We're refreshed, but we have no quest, no map of the larger kingdom, and a limited supply of gold."

  We sat in a circle, Joshua on the floor, Alan leaning by the window, and Eren and I on the bed. For a moment, the erotic tension and the shock of the transformation faded into the background. We were just a crew again, four friends from another world trying to solve a puzzle of a new life.

  The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting flickering amber shadows across the small room. We were huddled together around the bed, a scene that would have looked like any other late-night gaming session back home, if not for the fact that we were currently inhabiting our high-fantasy fantasies, and my high-tech nightmare.

  I shifted my weight on the mattress, every move I made felt precarious. As I leaned forward to look at the map Alan had sketched on a scrap of parchment, the dress worked against me; the side cutouts left my waist bare, and my chest threatened to spill from the loose fabric. A constant, scandalous glimpse of sideboob was visible every time I reached forward, the pale skin contrasting sharply with the dark wood of the room.

  "We need a sustainable income," I said, my voice that same melodic, smoky purr. "The gold from the goblins won't last a week if we’re paying for rooms and good food."

  "There’s no UI for quests here," Alan noted, his ice-blue eyes fixed firmly on the parchment to avoid the distracting curves just inches away. "No glowing exclamation points. This world is raw. It’s physical. If we want gold, we have to find someone with a problem and a purse."

  "So, we do what we’ve always done," Joshua said, his voice grounded but slightly strained. "We become adventurers. Mercenaries. Whatever they call the people who go into the dark places so the villagers don't have to."

  The realization hit us all at once: this wasn't a game where we could just log out when things got messy. The hunger in our bellies and the weight of the steel in the corner was real.

  I let out a long breath and stood up to work out the stiffness in my back. I threw my arms over my head in a long, indulgent stretch. The movement pulled the draped fabric tight across my chest, emphasizing my scandalous form.

  Joshua’s head snapped toward the wall so fast I heard his neck crack, while Alan suddenly became very interested in the stitching of his own boots.

  I looked down, about to ask what was wrong, when my eyes caught the hem of Joshua’s tunic. It was rising, pushed up by a very clear, very physical reaction he was having to the sight of me.

  I felt a wave of intense self-consciousness, a mix of embarrassment and a weird, budding power I wasn't sure I should be feeling.

  He’s my best friend, I thought, the alluring beauty of my face flushing a deep pink. But he's looking at me like... like that.

  "Ooooh, Joshie!" Eren chirped, her tail puffing up like a bottle-brush as she pointed a small, furred finger at his lap. "Is that a enchantment in your pocket, or are you just happy to see Taylor’s new 'minimalist' fashion choice?"

  "Eren! Shut up!" Joshua barked, his face turning a shade of red that nearly matched the embers in the fireplace. He scrambled to pull the tunic down, his hands shaking slightly.

  "Can't help it if he has eyes, Tay-Tay!" Eren cackled, rolling onto her back on the bed. "You’re a walking thirst-trap."

  I sat back down quickly, pulling the fabric over my knees, my mind a mess of gender-identity static. I was one of the boys... but the boys weren't looking at me like a "boy" anymore. And as I looked at Joshua’s embarrassed, rugged face, I realized I wasn't sure I wanted them to.