... with a sympathetic ear.

Shortly after my change I believed I was ready to face my former peers for dinner at the grand table. My father Lord Xeft was there, full of thinly concealed disgust, disappointment and irritation at me. My mother Lady Xeft was there and I sensed her sadness and sympathy. My older brother, Sir Kroza was amused at my fate but generally ignored me. His wife Madam Jasair was ... polite and avidly interested in me. Jasair's brother, my former wenching companion Fyle was also there beside his sister. At the table also sat my two younger sisters, and a smattering of cousins, aunts, uncles, advisors, diplomats and wealthy merchants.

I was the elephant in the room and an awkward air followed me.

Jasair sat opposite me. Shortly into the meal she extended her foot so it lay between my legs. Meals at the grand table are long drawn out affairs and I knew we would have to listen in tiresome detail to reports about the goings on in town and the surrounding countryside. At first I thought she was just stretching her legs and settling in for a long, dull night.

Jasair is a pretty demure woman in her corsets and silken finery, the very model of a lady. She fanned her powdered face, laughed quietly and prattled on with her brother Fyle and Kroza her husband, other nobles or other members of my family. But I sensed that her conversation was laden with a subtle subtext aimed at me.

"I hear that Fyle wrestled very well to earn the Golden Palm Brule?" she said suddenly to my and her foot moved causing me to blink. Fyle perked up at the comment.

Just prior to my ruking my close friend Fyle and I had competed in the yearly city games. He had bested me in wrestling and it had been a sore point at the time. I had forgotten about it due to my recent change, but now the memory returned and my cheeks reddened.

"A pity you'll never be able to have a rematch," she noted, her foot caressing my nether regions, "but woman cannot participate in the city games, let alone watch." Fyle and I both laughed a little nervously at her jest, a subtle reminder that the competitors wore no clothing in the bouts.

My mind drifted back to that day when I'd faced Fyle as an equal. We were both oiled, hot, naked and sweaty, pushing and grunting away on the mat as the crowd cheered and bet, and we vied for supremacy. I recalled him standing over me as the victor, a powerful virile man.

I was growing wet at the memories and was unable to look Fyle in the eye, so confusing were my emotions. Until that moment there had been no sexual connotations to wrestling in my mind. But recalling the physicality and subjugation of the bout as a serum girl with slut urges was profoundly sexual. Jasair's gentle ministrations reinforced this - driving the sexuality of it home gently by her foot pressing a little firmer against me and then leisurely rubbing my twill.

I sat there and endured it, struggling not to cum but unable to push her away. I tried to summon the strength to reseat myself elsewhere, but my slut urges were too strong. I was becoming her little toy and was loving it. It was our little secret, although Fyle and my brother no doubt suspected. For all I knew they put her up to it..."

"You know, you should come to my chambers tomorrow so that I may instruct you more properly in womanly ways," Jasair said as her toe pushed against me.

It took me a moment to register her comment, so distracted I had become. I swallowed and struggled to gather my thoughts. I think Jasair smirked but hid the smile with an indolent movement of her hand. I had a body **** to help me in my feminine matters but she was no noble born creature of etiquette and I was still very course in womanly ways. I looked across at Fyle, my blush deepening. I felt lessened and degraded by my new form and its needs, both social and physical. But I nodded, willingly taking Jasair up on her offer. Fortunately she relented and withdrew her foot, but for the rest of the meal my mind was lost in a confusion of thoughts and emotions.