WritersBlocked
Iro trailed behind the impeccably dressed centaur, her ponytail and actual tail swishing in rhythm with her trot. Her jacket was snug around her human torso, and a sturdy skirt covered most of her horse half, revealing her four legs from the knee down. Her tail peeked out from a cleverly hidden slit in the back of the skirt.
To Iro, she seemed prim, proper, and incredibly fast.
He did his best to keep pace as she guided him through the mansion’s courtyard, into the grand house, and through the stunning foyer.
Iro found himself spinning in circles, trying to take in the paintings, sculptures, and blooming flowers that filled the space. He’d never seen anything like it.
“The job posting clearly stated ‘maid,’ so I’m not sure why you’re confused about your role and duties,” the centaur said, pulling Iro back to the conversation at hand.
Her voice held a hint of professional annoyance, not much different from when they first met at the gate.
“I thought it was more of a… I don’t know, a live-in helper?”
The centaur huffed. “Yes. A ~maid~. Airy!”
Suddenly, the sound of flapping wings echoed from above. Iro watched as a red-feathered figure vaulted over the second-floor railing, flapped wildly, and landed gracefully on the tile floor in front of him and the centaur.
Well, almost gracefully. The figure’s taloned feet slipped, causing her to tumble face-first onto the floor, legs flailing in the air.
The unfortunate landing gave Iro a chance to see that the newcomer was a she. She was dressed in a slightly too-small French maid outfit, her short skirt flipped up to reveal pink panties and a fan of red feathers sprouting from her lower back.
Iro blushed, remembering a cosplay event a year ago where he’d worn a similar outfit, right down to the panties. His fans had loved it.
The centaur sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Airy, how many times have I told you to be careful and not expose yourself to newcomers?”
The feathered girl sat up, pulling her skirt down and chuckling with an embarrassed grin. “S-sorry Cerys. Airy can’t fly as well in her dress.”
The centaur, Cerys, frowned at the avian girl. “You already got a smaller uniform. I won’t have you flying around the master’s home naked. Pah.”
She grabbed Iro’s suitcase and backpack. “Take these to the room across from yours. Across, not next to. Understand?”
Airy scrambled to her feet and saluted with a wing-like arm. “Yes, ma’am!” She grabbed the bags in her talons, flew back up to the second floor, and disappeared.
Cerys turned back to Iro and sighed. “I apologize for that. We might expect too much from her. She’s just reaching adulthood, you see. Still… a bit immature, like many harpies her age.”
Iro pulled his gaze away from the last falling feathers and back to Cerys. He nodded.
“It’s okay. I’ve met plenty of people far worse than her. I’ve even… ah, never mind. What’s next for me?”
Cerys bowed her head slightly, regaining her stern composure.
“As stated, you’ll be joining the house staff. The master likes a clean home to return to and host parties in, so you’ll be expected to maintain a certain level of cleanliness. This includes your living space, your assigned areas, and yourself.”
Iro frowned. “I’m part of the house?”
Cerys chuckled, a haughty laugh.
“Hardly. You’re not quite as dense as the bricks that make up the house. No, the ~household~, Iro. As long as you’re employed by the master, you’re part of the household.”
Cerys started trotting deeper into the mansion, expecting Iro to follow. Realizing she wasn’t going to wait for him, he hurried to catch up, half-jogging to match her strides.
Cerys led Iro into a massive kitchen, with cupboards lining every wall, large stovetops and burners, two sinks, and every kind of ladle, knife, and whisk Iro could imagine.
“I don’t know if your skills, limited as they may be, include cooking, but this is where meals will be prepared and served. Twice a week, the master hosts a staff dinner where all resident workers gather to eat. The master enjoys catching up, meeting new faces, and checking on progress. On other days, you may be asked to serve a meal and then return here for your own meal in private. Don’t take it personally, the master isn’t always sociable.”
“I’ve handled plenty of tough situations,” Iro muttered.
Cerys’ horse-like ears flicked twice before she turned and pointed to a door at the back of the kitchen.
“Next are the dressing rooms. I’d like you to change now to present yourself properly to the other staff, many of whom are currently with the master on business. You’ll meet the master and the rest of the staff soon enough. But remember, dressing well is key to success.”
Cerys trotted through the kitchen, weaving easily between workstations, and pushed open the doors to the dressing rooms.
Iro followed closely, finding a fairly standard locker room with showers behind frosted glass to the left and a dozen tall lockers on the right. Several benches of various shapes and sizes filled the center of the room.
The room's most peculiar feature was a pile of fur and fabric nestled on the largest bench in the center. Iro could tell from the scent alone that it was an evolutionary adversary.
A growl began to form in Iro's throat, and he was about to leap when Cerys interrupted him with an exasperated tone.
“Mika, how many times have I told you not to sleep in shared spaces? And did you sneak into the liquor again? You stink.”
She walked over and grabbed what turned out to be a cat girl by the scruff of her neck. She was a bit smaller than Iro.
She stretched in Cerys’s hold, fluffing her fur and the frilly layers of her French maid outfit, which seemed to be the standard uniform of the mansion, judging by Iro’s observations.
Mika yawned widely. “Sorry Cery, I just found an extra bottle lying around and got a bit carried away. You know I can’t resist satyr brews.”
Cerys sighed and held the half-drunk cat up to Iro. “Mika, meet our new maid. Be nice to him.”
Iro looked back and forth between the two as Mika eyed him warily. She turned to Cerys, “Him?”
Cerys sighed and tossed Mika back onto the bench. The drunk cat landed on her feet only to clumsily roll onto her back.
“Yes. Him. He might have some unique features, but nothing we haven’t seen before. Go and get a small uniform please. A ~full-size~, small uniform. No more miniskirt pranks.”
Mika sighed and rolled off the bench, taking her time to drunkenly stumble to an unmarked locker and rummage inside. She pulled out a maid uniform similar to her own and walked back to the waiting centaur.
“It’s going to smell like dog forever now,” she grumbled as Cerys took the garment and returned to her drunken nap spot.
Cerys shook her head wearily and held the maid uniform up for Iro to see. “Your uniform. The master expects your uniform to be clean when serving, so make sure to keep that in mind.
“You’ll get several more for different events and in case of a spill, but you can talk to the seamstress about that later. Go ahead, put it on.”
Cerys tossed the frilly black and white dress onto the nearest flat surface and crossed her arms, looking at Iro expectantly.
Iro looked between Cerys and the not-so-subtly staring Mika. “W-what, right now? Here?” Iro asked, with a pointed glance at the lounging feline.
Cerys nodded. “Yes, of course. You never seemed too shy before. What’s changed?”
Iro’s ears perked up. “Before? Wait, did you—”
“Investigate you? Obviously,” Cerys interrupted, leaning her human half down to be almost eye level with the relatively short Iro.
“You have quite the personality, Iro Tenga. Trust me, you wouldn’t have been chosen for this job without it. Now, hurry up, we need to finish the house tour.”
Cerys gestured to the outfit one more time before standing up to her full height and crossing her arms again.
“Come on, puppy, it’s not like we haven’t seen a dick before. It’s hardly impressive anyway, I’m sure—”
“Mika!” Cerys snapped, silencing the giggling cat. “She is right, though. It’s nothing we haven’t seen. Hurry up now, we don’t have much time before dinner.”
Iro swallowed hard and pulled his T-shirt over his head, self-conscious of his lean body.
“Cute,” Mika chirped, earning a glare from Cerys.
Iro tried to ignore the teasing feline and unbuttoned his shorts, giving Cerys one more pleading look only to meet an unyielding gaze. Gathering his courage, Iro pulled down his shorts and braced himself.
“Ho-ly-Gyaaa!” Mika began, but was cut off by a pen that Cerys pulled from a side pocket and threw at the feline with pinpoint accuracy, leaving Mika rubbing her forehead where a small red spot was forming.
“I assume you chose your underwear for comfort, Iro. Women’s underwear is usually designed with comfort in mind. I can’t imagine they provide much support for your… ahem, equipment.”
Iro shivered as he stood in front of two females wearing nothing but a pair of colorful boy shorts-style panties that belonged to his former roommate.
“I-it’s not like that! They look very similar to one of my pairs…b-but I guess I picked up the wrong one.”
Cerys shrugged and picked up the maid outfit, holding it out for him. “I’ll remember to note that you prefer comfort over social norms when it comes to your underwear. Very interesting.”
Iro felt his facial fur heat up in a blush as he grabbed the fabric of the dress and began to pull it on.
This job is going to be…complicated…