Bared Before the Gods

by Alyson Belle

  Slowly I stood, and as I wobbled in place I quickly became aware that something was wrong with my balance. But that was far from the most alarming realization I had in store for myself. There was a distinct lack between my legs now which did not go unnoticed. My strange new hands flew to my crotch to confirm the bizarre sensation, only to find nothing there—no dick, no balls.

  “What in Hades!?” I cried, feeling around in a panic as my hands batted at a thin layer of cloth, like I was wearing some kind of robe, except far closer to my body and tighter than any robe I’d ever worn. It was only then that I realized it wasn’t a robe at all, but rather a light dress similar to what the serving girls wore at the tavern. I lifted my new skirt enough to slip a hand underneath as a cold suspicion began to creep across me, and my worst fears were confirmed as my newly delicate fingers grazed at a soft, silky cleft where my dick should have been. Worse still, I felt the tips of them graze through my new lips and come away moist.

  The suspicion deepened into a sick, twisting knot in my belly as I realized what Aphrodite had done to hide me.

  She’d turned me into a woman. A real, honest-to-goodness woman, and not some cheap, fancy illusion. I swallowed hard, shocked into silence by the implications.

  At least it would make sense now to call me “pretty.”

  Chapter 3

  “What have you done to me?” I demanded, shocked at the high, musical voice that escaped my lips. I had none of my usual gravitas, and the question sounded more like a petulant brat throwing a tantrum than my usual

  Aphrodite laughed, her perfect lips curling. “As I said, I hid you. I couldn’t have you walking around as the strapping young lad you were. Don’t worry, though, I kept you just as pretty as before.”

  “Oh, did you now?” I countered, my hands roaming up to explore the breasts I now felt hanging loosely behind my blouse. I hissed a bit at the sudden lick of pleasure that rolled through me as my hands lingered on the soft, warm flesh, and I felt the gap between my legs grow a little slicker with the excitement of it.

  “You might be a little sensitive for a bit. Being a woman is a wonderful, intense experience, so you should enjoy it while I help to convince Zeus that you are well and truly dead.” She looked me over like she approved and clapped her hands. “Well, I can’t stay for long, lest I want to draw his attention. You know the way home, I assume. Good luck! Keep up with your grand adventures, won’t you? I’m eager to see what you do with your new lease on life… especially with how delightfully sensitive I made sure your new form is.”

  With a wink and a teasing giggle, she vanished, leaving me alone with my new body in the middle of the forest.

  If I was confused before, I was even more baffled now. My entire world had been turned upside down in a matter of hours, and now I wasn’t even a man anymore! Why couldn’t she have just made me into a different looking male? Why a woman?

  It was so like the gods to do this to me. I growled in frustration, annoyed all over again when it came out as more of a cute mewl. This was what I meant when I talked about how they were utterly selfish and used mortals as their playthings! Even when they offered help, it came at a cost.

  I tottered in the direction I thought was home and realized that even walking as a woman was going to be different. My hips now had a sway that I didn’t care for at all, as my thick thighs rolled past each other with each step. The soft mounds on my chest, unfettered with any bond or binding, bounced along as well, sending little bursts of sensation every time the fabric of my dress moved against my nipples. It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, but that didn’t mean I welcomed being a woman!

  I took a peek inside my shirt as I walked. Oh goodness. My breasts were much larger than they had been only minutes before, my pink nipples having expanded as well. I had seen women naked many times before, but it was an entirely different thing to be a woman.

  Voices and what sounded like crying reached my ears, accompanied by the crackling of a fire. Thank goodness! That was what I needed first—villagers who could help me get back and figure out what to do next. I was so relieved to finally be away from the whims and chaos of the Olympians and close to being back with plain old people once again that it didn’t occur to me to even wonder why they might be crying.

  I wandered toward the sound, cutting through the trees and thick, tangled growth of the forest floor until I finally emerged into a familiar pasture. There, I saw a funeral pyre casting smoke and flame high into the air, with many of the townsfolk gathered around. This was where the crying had come from, obviously.

  It seemed like I had arrived in a moment of quiet not often to be had at one of our town’s funerals; it usually came between hearty songs and tales of conquest. At my funeral, I hoped to be famous and heroic enough to have an entire court of mourners who would wail for me and tear their clothes, beating their chests in sadness at my passing.

  I walked closer, not wanting to interrupt, but interested in integrating into the crowd so I didn’t have to walk the rest of the way home alone. Even though we weren’t anything like a desolate, lonely town in the middle of the wilds, there was still the risk of random vagabonds or bandits like the ones Mal and I had once put to flight, and I certainly didn’t want to run into any of those in my current state. I’d end up as one of the crying women in the tents instead of the hero saving the day, at the moment!

  I watched quietly and waited until the moment of silence was done, and someone started to sing in a low, lilting key. I recognized it as the lovely voice of the blind priestess in one of the temples to the gods, and, moments later, she moved along into one of my favorite ditties. How odd it was to hear one of my favorite songs right now.

  I inched closer, straining to see over the heads of the crowd with my newly shortened stature, but my footsteps slowed as I spotted Mal standing alongside our friend, the tavern owner. Both of their eyes were red from crying and their jaws were tight.

  Wait a minute. They weren’t here for… me, were they?

  I finally came to a stop and looked at the funeral pyre, but it was just a pile of burning logs. There was no way to tell who was on there, and it wasn’t like I had many personal effects to speak of.

  Then some wailing picked up, and I heard it clearly.

  My own name.

  “Lukas!” someone cried, their voice raising in pitch. “Bring him back to us, oh gods! Forgive him his trespasses; he brought joy and justice to our fold!”

  More chimed in. It wasn’t the stunning reverie I’d hoped for, with dozens weeping and gnashing their teeth, but there were a few. For a moment, I allowed myself to enjoy the proof that I did matter to at least a few people, but then I realized how utterly bizarre it was that I was watching people mourn for me.

  They all thought I was dead—that I had been struck down and never returned with the crown. Well, I guessed that part was right, but I wanted to wave my arms and assure them that I certainly wasn’t dead, despite what they might think.

  I opened my mouth, intending to tell them that they were all being ridiculous when I was perfectly alive and well—if a little on the feminine side, now—but then I caught myself. If I was going to hide from Zeus and not end up struck by his awful lightning again, I needed to play things carefully.

  But what could I do? Nothing in life had prepared me for standing at my own funeral in the body of a pretty young woman, unable to identify myself for fear of a god literally hitting me with a giant bolt of lightning.

  I stood there, still a bit baffled by everything, and tried to decide how to proceed. Soon the whole event ended and people began to wander off, saying their last goodbyes to the pyre of Lukas. I stayed silently, rocking on the balls of my feet, and watched them leave one by one as the pyre eventually burned down to a smoldering patch of embers.

  Unsurprisingly, it was Mal who stood there last beside the dying fire. The sunlight had finally begun to fade, and still he stared at what was supposed to be left of me. I was touched to see just how much my
old friend cared about me. I didn’t know why they’d chosen to have my funeral during the day rather than at night, but it looked quite pretty to have the sun setting over the event, with Mal in stark relief. Appropriate, somehow.

  This was finally my chance, though, now that we were the only two left. I approached him carefully, trying to figure out what I was going to say, but finally, I landed on something simple. “Mal?” I asked cautiously.

  He turned to me, his eyes red and a look of surprise across his face. “Do I know you?”

  I took a deep breath. It was now or never, I supposed. “Yes, but not like this.”

  “Look, my friend has died. I respect if you’re looking for coin, but I’m not—”

  “What? No! I’m not a prostitute! Mal, it’s me, Lukas!”

  Instantly his face hardened, and I saw that rare flash of anger across his face. It took quite a bit for Mal to lose his cool. For a moment, I was intimidated. Since when had he been so tall and broad? I had always been the larger of the two of us, but now I found myself staring up at the familiar face from a new vantage point, eyes wide.

  “That’s not funny. I don’t know what cruel intentions you have, but I advise you go back to wherever you came from.”

  “Mal, no, it’s me!” I argued feeling helpless. I didn’t know why I thought he should believe me, anyway. As far as he knew, Lukas had died on an insane bet against the gods. “Look, I know it’s crazy, but I got the crown! It was insane. I almost made it down the mountain, but Zeus hit me with one of his bolts! I died, but Aphrodite brought me back.” I lowered my voice, eyes flitting about. “She turned me into a woman to hide from him.”

  His face was quickly turning red. “That’s ridiculous! I don’t know—”

  “Your first childhood crush was on Leticia, the potter’s daughter. She lived near the center of town but left when her father was brought on to work with a magistrate for a new temple in the city! You ran after their wagon until your feet bled.”

  The color drained from Mal’s face, and he stared at me with wide eyes. “L–Lukas?”

  A smile bloomed across my face, and I threw my arms around his shoulders. We had never been shy about embracing before, but this time was entirely different. His body felt so warm and firm against my own, which molded against him like soft clay. For a moment, a sharp tingle ran through me, and my breath caught at the unfamiliar sensation of being pressed against a man. I pushed it out of my head to address later, trying not to think about Aphrodite’s parting words.

  “It’s me,” I breathed as soon as I could speak again. “It’s really me.”

  We held each other for a while, just rocking back and forth. I was surprised when tears started to trickle out of my eyes. I heard sniffling, and I saw Mal was crying lightly too.

  That made sense, the poor lad. He had no doubt thought that his last words to me were spoken in anger and that he had abandoned me to my death. I wish I could have waved all of that away, because it was all my fault. I certainly hadn’t meant to hurt him, but that was what I had done.

  Sometimes I was the worst friend.

  “Wow, this uh… this isn’t what I expected to happen today.” Mal stepped away and wiped my face, then his. “You’re here. I mean, you’re a woman, but you’re here.”

  “I am,” I answered, forcing myself to calm down. “But I guess the question is, what do we do now?”

  It wasn't as if I could return to the room I had rented in the local inn. And it wasn’t like I had any family either. As far as everyone knew, Lukas was dead, and I certainly wasn’t him.

  “That sounds like something to worry about in the morning. For now, let’s go to my place, and we’ll get some sleep. I can’t believe you’re here, I just…” He patted my head before bringing it closer to kiss the strands. The last time he had been so affectionate toward me was when we were barely boys, and the unfamiliar gesture made me feel strange and embarrassed. But this was also different than it had ever been before—whereas before his affection had made me feel a brotherly sort of connection with him, now it made my stomach flip. Again I shoved aside the uncomfortable thoughts with all of the associated implications.

  “I couldn’t sleep, you know. Any time I tried, I’d have a nightmare where we’re in the stable and yelling. I hated it, thinking my last words to you were—”

  I raised my hand and put it to his lips, which were surprisingly warm and soft under my finger. “It’s alright,” I murmured, feeling flush again. “I was a proper ass to you.”

  “Yeah, you were. And it looks like you did go and get yourself killed.”

  “You’re not wrong about that.” I chuckled. “But thankfully my pretty face saved me.”

  “Your pretty face?”

  “Hey, not my words. What can I say? The goddess of beauty said I was too pretty to die.”

  “Gods. Really? I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?” He snorted, suddenly back to being my good old friend. “As if your ego needed any more boosting. At least ‘pretty’ fits you better now than it used to.”

  “That’s what I said too!” I responded automatically, settling comfortably back into our old pattern of banter. It took a moment before I realized the compliment he’d paid to my new form, and I hoped the dusk had grown dim enough that Mal couldn’t see the sudden heat that sprang into my cheeks.

  He motioned me forward and changed the subject as we strolled back to town. I noticed my stride was much shorter than it used to be, making me work to keep up with Mal. Quite quickly, I noticed that the insides of my thighs began to rub against each other, the silky sliding sensations sparking that same tingle I’d felt earlier when I’d touched my breasts, and I let out a little curse.

  I hated being a woman. I just wanted my dick back! How did females get anything done with their hips swaying, their thighs rubbing, and their breasts bouncing all around like this? And why had Aphrodite made me so damned sensitive? There was so much going on with my new form that I felt exhausted already, and I’d only been at this for a handful of hours.

  Mal could see I was having a hard time keeping up with his longer stride, and the exhaustion of the day must have been evident on my face, because he suddenly turned and offered his back. “Shall I give the lady a ride?”

  I stared at his broad, muscled back incredulously. Was he teasing me? Mocking my inability to keep up with him now that I was a woman? But the big lout seemed to be serious. Part of me wanted to tell him that I was just fine taking care of myself and didn’t need his help just because I was a woman now, but it was far outweighed by the parts of me that felt utterly spent after my sapping whirlwind of a day.

  “Fine. But don’t think that I can’t still trounce you,” I said as I clambered up, feeling utterly foolish.

  “Of course, that’s what concerns you. I swear, your pride will be the death of you.” He paused as if realizing what he’d said. “…again.”

  I batted at his shoulder and noted how thick and muscled it was, my hand practically bouncing off the tight, well-scarred skin. If my thighs had felt nice rubbing against one another, they felt even better wrapped around his middle. I could feel his abdominal muscles flexing below my calf, and I wondered if he had always been so cut, or if he had been working out more as of late.

  Then I paled, horrified at myself. What was I thinking? This was Mal, not a tavern wench to lust after! Why was I even having such thoughts? I’d never been attracted to men before, and especially not Mal. I forced my legs to relax and tried to turn my thoughts elsewhere.

  Fortunately, Mal seemed to be none the wiser. He continued talking as though it were perfectly normal for me to be clinging to his back like a lost orphan. “I suppose that if you’re hiding from Zeus that I can’t very well go about calling you Lukas,” he remarked as we walked onward toward the village.

  “Plus, the townsfolk might think that’s quite strange,” I added, glad for the change of topic. “I don’t exactly look like a Lukas, and as far as they know, he’s very
much dead.”

  It was still bizarre to talk about it so casually. Once Zeus cooled, and I didn’t have to be in this ridiculous disguise anymore, would the folks in our town ever accept me back? They had buried me and would no doubt move on. And I would have to watch, pretending like I didn’t see the pain on their faces as it happened day by day.

  “Yeah, exactly. I guess it’s time to choose a new name for you, then. You have any you’re favoring?”

  “Oh, yes,” I retorted. “I’ve thought about it so much. Let me just get the handy list of new names I made on the off-chance I someday get turned into a woman by the meddlesome, thrice-damned gods. I made it right before I became a man, as all young boys do.”

  “I see the gods couldn’t fix your smart mouth while they were busy improving the rest of you.”

  “Some things are beyond even their power.”

  He laughed at that, and it was good to hear the sound of his laughter again. Although I hadn’t admitted it to myself, in the few minutes I had been dead I wondered what it would be like to never see my best friend again. It hadn’t made it to the front of my mind considering the haze from being struck by lightning, but now I was relieved not to have to deal with that particular loss.

  “How about Lucia? It’s close enough that I don’t think you’ll forget it, but also pretty.”

  “Lucia,” I said, turning it over on my tongue. “I like it. Short, sweet, to the point. Sounds natural, and I think I’ll respond to it because it sounds similar.”

  “Good. Well, that’s one thing down.”

  The conversation came to a comfortable lull as we arrived at his family home at the top of one of the nicer hills rising up over the village. Mal didn’t live in the main house, which was far too ostentatious for his taste. Instead he resided in a small bachelor addition they had added once he reached manhood and started going adventuring with me. His family wouldn’t have been able to afford anything like it when I first joined their little tribe, but his father had gained considerable success with his carpentry and had gone on to do several significant projects in the neighboring cities that had pushed his family almost into the wealthy class. While they weren’t throwing feasts or walking around dressed in silks dyed royal purple, they were better off than my family ever could've been, had they survived.