Baphomaid
A hero with an attitude problem finds his true calling.
Birthday gift for Baph_Omay on twitter!
Thumbnail by vinyl_dragon on twitter!
Baph stumbled through the door of the inn, armor dented and scorched from his recent victory. The inn's patrons turned around as he stomped his way to the counter, his weapons and armor clanking with every step, his hooves clipping and clopping against the wooden floors.
"To my most recent victory!" He shouted, raising his fist in the air. The others in the inn - residents of this little hamlet, presumably, who aught to have been more grateful to him for saving their hides - raised their mugs. This reminded the hero of the sad fact he was without one.
"Bartender!" He barked, as he took a seat. A snow leopard emerged from the back room, dusting herself off and smiling warmly.
"Welcome. A drink for you, Sir?" She asked, approaching the opposite side of the counter and leaning over it to admire him. Presumably.
"Sir Baphomet! Adventurer, warrior, knight... hero." He said, flashing the pretty cat a charming smile, which she returned. The rest of the men at the bar seemed to go back to their business, rather than thanking him properly for the service he'd given then. Of course. The only way to make yourself known around the common folk was to stand over them.
"Drinks! For me, and for all of my countrymen here!" He proclaimed, lifting his coinpurse high, and this time getting a real cheer out of the men around him, the ungrateful gits.
"Let none say that Sir Baphomet does not posesss a generous soul!" He said, flashing the snow leopard another smile.
She seemed to force a smile, sliding him a foaming mug of something as he set his coinpurse on the counter.
He awoke with a splitting headache. Something soft and warm was holding his head, and he hissed as a cold sensation pressed against his scalp. Shortly after, the throbbing pain faded slightly, and he sighed and tried to open his eyes.
He was in a small, dusty room, a familiar-looking snow leopard leaning over him and pressing something cold against his head.
"Oh thank the Gods, you woke up." She said, sighing in relief. "You hit your head so hard, I was a little worried I'd have to call a healer."
"What- hng..." He groaned, shifting in the bed and feeling his vision spin. "What happened? Where am I?" Baph asked, trying his best to maintain eye contact with the voluptuous white cat leaning over him.
"You're in the back room of my inn." She explained. "You came here to celebrate a victory, and, well... got a little overexcited." She said, breaking eye contact at the end. "And... sort of smashed my place up."
"Nnng, fuck, I did?" He groaned, bringing his palms up to his forhead and gritting his teeth. "I... guess I'll pay for the damage."
"Of course you will." She said. "I didn't doubt that, the only question is, well... how."
"What do you mean 'how?'" Baph spat. "From my coinpurse. I just got paid for a quest yesterday."
"I know." The snow leopard replied, scowling slightly. "And you spent every last coin on drinks for half the damn town. You still have a tab, even."
The goat-hero was in shock. He pulled the blankets off of himself and reached down to his waist to check his coinpurse. He pushed his hand past the pullstring and felt around inside, a pit forming in his stomach as he found it completely empty. Had he really spent his entire reward in one night at an inn?
"So in order to pay for the damage, you're going to have to work for me." The snow leopard explained. Baph was a little surprised at her tone. She wasn't angry in the slightest. It was more like she simply giving him some upsetting news, putting it gently but not treating it like anything other than a simple fact.
Which, of course, it was. Baph wasn't some ruffian who blew all his hard-earned money, wrecked a bar, and rode off into the sunset without taking responsibility. He was a hero, and that meant taking responsibility for his actions.
However embarassing they might be.
"What will I have to do?" Baph asked, scratching at the back of his head as he tried to sit up. The snow leopard gently pushed his shoulders up, helping him into a sitting position.
"Well, I need someone to help clean up the mess that you made, to start." She said.
Baph sighed and nodded, and with the leopard's help, got to his feet. He stretched and winced as he tried to touch the sore spot on his head, and shuffled his way out into the main room of the bar.
His heart sank as he made his way out into the main room. "Smashed her place up" was putting it very generously. Tables were flipped, drinks were spilled, axes were embedded into one of the walls. He couldn't help but hang his head. This was a new low for him.
"Feel free to get started wherever. I want to be back open as soon as possible, and I can't do it like this." She explained. "Oh, and by the way, my name's Sarah."
"Miss Sarah." Baph replied. She smiled a little at his politeness, clearly relieved that he wasn't going to cause any more trouble.
That out of the way, he began his work. He still had his armor on from the previous day, and decided he'd keep it on, both as a sort of punishment for himself and because he didn't feel like taking time he could spend cleaning to strip out of it.
It was exhausting work. The axes were stuck good, no doubt thrown by his powerful arm, and wrenching each one out of the wall from the top of a ladder, in chainmail, was about as fun as flipping every table back over, sweeping up wood splinters, scrubbing down tables, locating tankards in seemingly impossible places - really, on a ceiling beam? If he'd tossed it up and managed to land it up there right side up, that's amazing - until Sarah finally told him he'd done enough for one day.
"Not bad. We can reopen tomorrow." She told him, offering him a loaf of bread for his supper, which he graciously accepted and began tearing off edible pieces. "I mixed you up something to help you fall asleep, and to heal that head injury of yours."
"How gracious of you, Miss Sarah." Baph said, between mouthfuls of bread. "How many more days until I've paid back the damage I've done?"
"Hmm." She said, tapping her chin with a clawed finger and swishing the drink in her tankard around. "Three more days? Four?" She said, with a shrug. "If I'm paying you my usual barmaid rate."
Baph nodded. That wasn't too bad. He'd be able to find another quest as soon as that was done, and regard this whole week as a very important lesson about fiscal responsibility.
"You're probably tired." She said, placing a small potion bottle on the counter and pushing it toward him. "You can sleep in the back room, so you're not taking up a guest room while you're here. Drink this before you fall asleep."
Baph was feeling... good. He was wandering through a large, open, sunny field, a gentle breeze on his face. Sarah was there, walking alongside him, smiling at him.
"Thank you, hero." She whispered into his ear.
"For what?" He asked, smiling serenely at her.
"For being so brave. Letting go of your pride to save me." She said, pulling him into a warm, soft hug. He could feel her, even through his armor.
Save her? He had done that, hadn't he? They'd run to this field afterwards. And it was all because he put away his pride and did the right thing.
That's what being a hero is all about, after all. Being selfless.
He awoke, feeling groggy, but well rested. The pain in his head was gone, a sure sign that the sleep tonic had done its work.
He got up and stretched, still encumbered by his armor, when he spotted a set of clothing folded up on the table in the backroom.
Curiously, he picked it up and gave it a look. It was sort of like a short robe, or... dress. Nothing fancy or frilly, but probably not an outfit designed for a male wearer. He bit his lip, pressing it against his armor to see if it would fit at all.
It would. And it would be a hell of a lot more comfortable than cleaning in armor.
The decision was made.
He removed every piece of his armor and sweat-caked underclothing, and set them on the floor by the bed. The back room was dusty, but it wasn't that was going to soil his clothing any further.
Then, swallowing his pride, he slipped into the... robes.
They were comfortable. Roomy. Soft, even.
A little humiliating. But it isn't like he didn't deserve a little humiliation. He'd made a mistake, and part of being a hero was owning up to it.
Sarah greeted him with a smile as he emerged from the back room, wearing his new outfit.
"Oh good, you're changed. Sorry, dear, it's the only uniform I had in your size." She said, gently patting dust off his shoulder. "I think you'll be much more comfortable in that than in your armor, though."
He nodded his agreement, only for her to frown at him.
"Don't you mean 'Yes, Miss?'" She asked, tutting disapprovingly.
Baph felt a small rush of shame. As much as he found they were getting along, he was here to work and repay a debt, not to make friends. Pride had no place here.
"Yes, Miss." Baph said.
"Good boy. We're open again today, but you've still got some cleaning to do. Why don't you start by giving the place a dusting?" She said, handing the goat a worn-out feather duster.
"Yes, Miss."
Another full day of work, another loaf of bread for supper, and another sleep tonic prepared and pushed across the counter to him.
"I don't think I need it." He said, hungrily devouring his loaf. It was all he'd had since lunch, and even though it was a little stale, he couldn't complain after being on his hooves all day.
"It's an old family recipe." Miss Sarah said. "Helps you get a restful sleep when you need it the most. I insist."
Baph frowned, opening his mouth to reply and locking eyes with her, only to suddenly feel... silly. Why was he fighting over this? He smiled, and pulled it closer to him.
"Thank you, Miss." He said, finishing his bread and taking his empty plate, and Miss Sarah's cup. Dishes were another of his many duties, and by the time he was done with them, he was more than ready to head to bed.
He found the sleep tonic left conveniently on the table where he'd found his new clothes that morning. He stripped out of them and folded them up, assuming he'd have the chance to wash them some time tomorrow, and then picked up and uncorked the little bottle.
He looked at the foggy liquid inside curiously before bringing it to his lips and gulping it down in one mouthful.
He was floating in a comfortable warmth. He felt like he floating on a river of honey, his body gently rocking back and forth, but very slowly, very slightly. Sometimes his boat would shift and drop, creating a little weight in his stomach, and the weight would expand and spread into a warm, tingly buzz that ran through his body and out to his fingertips.
A voice was whispering to him. He strained to make out the words, though he had a strange feeling of understanding them regardless.
"Such a good boy. Such a good boy. Doing as you're told, like a good boy. Feeling proud of how good you've been."
He could recognize this voice. Miss Sarah. Her words were so... warm. They must have been the river he was floating on. Warm, smooth, gentle. They filled him with a sense of joy and belonging. He felt like a good boy, doing as he was told...
He was serving drinks today. Miss Sarah insisted she clean her own room, now that she had someone to run the bar. She wanted to do it while she still had him, and since that wouldn't be for much longer, today was as good as any other.
As luck would have it, a group of adventurers had just arrived to celebrate a quest. Baph was always on his hooves, fetching them more drinks, cooking them their meals, tending to their every whim. They were keeping him busy, and if he didn't know better, he'd think they liked to see him clip-clopping around the bar trying to keep up with their demands.
"Your meal, Sir." He said, setting a steaming plate in front of a smugly grinning lion in armor.
"Thank you, my dear." He growled, reaching around and giving the goat's ass a rough squeeze.
Baph eeped.
He eeped. Baph, the hero, eeped.
Then, of course, as the realization struck him that he was just standing there, more deer than goat, he blushed, bowed, and hurried back to the kitchen.
He was... conflicted. He should be angry - offended, even - but... all he felt was... strange. More "good strange" than "bad strange," even.
He wasn't- He didn't ENJOY this, did he?
Serving as a barmaid, doing as he was told, like a good-...
He snapped out of it. He'd reflect on his conflicted feelings later. If he kept staring off into space and questioning all of his life choices, he'd burn his customer's meals.
And he couldn't have that at Miss Sarah's inn.
He was back on that gentle, flowing river. Miss Sarah's sleep tonics were divine. He'd have to get the recipe from her before he left. He'd never had such restful sleep.
His hooves brushed against the shore, and he knew it was time to get up, to go to work. Obediently, he stood, and found himself completely nude.
He couldn't serve inn patrons completely nude. Miss Sarah requires her barmaids to wear uniforms. To look good and pretty, to be polite, kind, sweet... calm.
Always so calm. Always so happy to serve their customers, and Miss Sarah.
It was good to feel like a calm, happy, pretty thing. It made everything so much better.
It was good to accept these feelings. Why should he reject the way he felt, when accepting it would only make things easier for him?
He was standing in front of a mirror, completely nude and exposed. His body was softer, shaplier than he remembered, but it was missing something.
A pair of hands came down over his eyes, and he felt a warmth behind him. Somehow, he knew who it was.
His eyes opened. The warmth was all around him now. He was wearing it, as a soft, fluffy, frilly uniform.
So happy. So calm. So docile.
"Good morning, Baph. Good news, I had you a new uniform made, so you don't have to wear those rags." Miss Sarah said, sitting at the table in his room with a plate of breakfast and a folded set of clothing.
He got to his hooves and rubbed his eyes, standing up completely nude without a thought. Miss Sarah didn't even react, even as he realized he'd forgotten something and pulled the blanket up over his crotch.
If Miss Sarah didn't mind, though, it was probably fine.
"It's nothing I haven't seen before, Baph. Try on your new uniform, sweetheart." Miss Sarah said, smiling gently.
"Yes, Miss Sarah." Baph replied, dropping the blanket and walking calmly over to the table. He didn't mind being nude if she didn't mind seeing him this way.
He picked up the folded clothing and carefully lifted them up. It was a new uniform, similar to his old one but much more frilly, soft, and new. It looked like the kind of thing a noble would have his servants wear.
"Miss Sarah..." Baph said, breathless, turning it back and forth.
For the briefest moment, there was doubt in the snow leopard's eyes, just barely peeking out behind her warm, motherly demeanor.
"It's... lovely. Thank you, Miss." Baph said, eagerly pulling it over his head and sliding into it. He shivered as the soft fabric gripped at his waist, lightly pulling his figure into something slightly more feminine, as the frills of the skirt hung over his tail and down past his knees.
He momentarily forgot he was a proud, accomplished hero as he gave a little twirl, just to do it. Miss Sarah seemed to approve.
"Have your breakfast, my dear." She said, crossing her legs and smiling at him. It was a strange sort of smile, Baph thought as he obeyed and got to eating. She was looking at him less like an employer did an employee, or even like a lover and their love, and more like... a painter, and their canvas.
It was a difficult feeling to explain. She looked more proud than pleased, and she looked VERY pleased.
"You've been doing very well, Baph. Very well." She praised him as he ate. "I've got a lot of cleaning for you to do today. The store room could use a very thorough dusting, and that adventuring party is due back here this evening, so I'll need you on the floor."
"Yes, Miss Sarah. I'll get started right away." Baph replied, sweetly.
"Good boy." She said, leaning forward and taking his hand, to play with his fingers. He was happy to let her do as she pleased, of course.
Baph was feeling conflicted again. He was sitting on his bed, blushing fiercely as he had been for almost his entire shift. The adventuring party had won a great victory, and that lion from the night before was very... handsy. Baph felt his gaze the entire night, and on a few occasions, his wandering hands.
Miss Sarah had praised him after they all went up to their beds. He'd done perfectly, attended to each of them, answered their every request, always with a smile on his face. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't enjoying himself, though he definitely preferred cleaning duties. Quietly, calmly, methodically dusting and cleaning the entire storeroom was nothing short of a treat.
Miss Sarah had given him another sleep tonic, and he was fiddling with the bottle, unsure. He'd forgotten how many days of servitude he owed her. Part of him was hoping that there were a lot left.
He sighed and looked over to his uniform, neatly folded like the treasure it was.
He'd figure this out tomorrow, he decided uncorking the bottle and drinking it down.
He was... back on the battlefield.
A monstrous horror towered in front of him, covered in grasping limbs and hungering teeth. His armor weighed heavily on his shoulders, his weapon hanging his trembling grip, as it shambled toward him.
This... this wasn't right. He didn't belong here. His heart was pounding in his ears.
Why was he here? For treasure? Treasure and wealth that he'd spend in one night and forget about?
He didn't belong here. He heard his sword clatter as it slipped from his grip, and he turned on his hooves and ran. He didn't feel a drop of shame as he did, stumbling and tripping toward the light behind him. He didn't want to go back to this.
He wanted Miss Sarah. He wanted to hear her voice again. He ran, stripping away his armor, leaving everything behind him until he was standing outside her inn. He opened the door and stepped inside, moaning softly at the feeling of his uniform squeezing around him.
He looked down and smiled in relief and joy at the sight of his pretty maid uniform. So much more comfortable than that heavy armor. He belonged in this uniform. This was where he belonged.
Miss Sarah was with him now, holding him, touching him. He was putty in her hands, leaning into her, staring lovingly at her. She pushed a finger into his mouth, and all he could do was close his lips around it.
"Good boy, Baph." She whispered. "Good boy. My good boy. My good little maid."
He was awake. His head was on something soft and warm, but firm. His eyes opened, and a smile spread over his face as Miss Sarah looked down on him. His head was in her lap, his chin wet with drool. His whole body felt tingly and heavy, but that was fine. He didn't need to move. He didn't need to do anything.
"Good morning, Baph. My good little maid. Feeling so calm and docile for me, so submissive around me. My pretty little maid."
Baph smiled lovingly up at her eyes as she stroked his hair and circled a finger around his horn.
Her face looked... different, somehow. Baph's eyes lingered on a purple glint behind her eyes. That wasn't there before, he thought dimly to himself.
She smiled slyly and snapped her fingers, and her features were forgotten as Baph's eyes rolled up briefly.
"Come back to me, sweetie." She whispered.
"Yes, Miss Sarah." He mumbled. His face was heavy, too. It was hard to talk.
"Good boy. Such a good boy. You'll be waking up soon, and when you'll do, you'll get dressed and wait for my instructions." She said, each word undeniably true.
"Yes, Miss Sarah."
"Good boy. One more snap to put you back to sleep, and then you'll wake up all on your own for Mistress, won't you?"
"Yes, Miss Sarah."
A snap, and more warm, black comfort.