Mike sat on the toilet, staring into the void.
Alright… let's recap.
I woke up on the floor bleeding out.
Turns out I'm a woman now.
With boobs… and a dick.
A maid saw me naked with an erection and didn't even blink.
And now I'm sitting on a toilet that probably costs more than everything I earned in my previous life.
Mike let out a dry laugh that echoed against the bathroom tiles.
Yeah… completely normal.
He looked at his hands. Small, delicate, with slender fingers and neatly trimmed nails.
Those were definitely the hands of someone who had never worked a single day in her life.
He lifted his gaze and examined his arms. The cut on his left wrist had already stopped bleeding thanks to the improvised strip of cloth, but that wasn't what caught his attention.
It was the other marks.
Scars.
Dozens of them.
Thin, healed lines crossing the skin of his forearms in different directions, some older than others, some nearly invisible and others still pink.
Mike frowned and lowered his gaze to his thighs.
More scars.
Parallel ones, almost meticulously arranged, as if whoever made them had taken the time to make them symmetrical.
And on his shoulders, more of the same.
"Shit," Mike muttered out loud, running his fingers gently over the marks on his thigh.
The skin was slightly raised at each one, forming small ridges of scar tissue.
This girl didn't just cut herself… she cut herself often.
Enough that no one would be surprised to see her holding a knife...
Mike leaned back against the cold bathroom wall, letting out a long sigh.
"Hey, Mara," he said out loud, addressing no one in particular. "I don't know who you were or what they did to you, but you had a pretty shitty hobby."
Mike paused briefly before speaking again.
"Although, to be fair, my hobby was watching cat videos at three in the morning while eating instant ramen, so maybe I'm not the best person to judge you."
At least ramen didn't leave scars.
Well, it did… but in the stomach, not on the thighs.
Mike stayed silent for a moment, staring at the marks on his new skin.
And then his brain—that damn traitor—decided it was the perfect moment to replay in high definition what had just happened.
The memory of the brown-haired maid with the huge breasts who had seen him completely naked returned to his mind.
Even worse, she had seen him with an erection.
And she hadn't said a single word about it.
Heat rushed to his face again with the force of a volcanic eruption.
"STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT!" he shouted at himself, covering his face with both hands.
But it was already too late.
His little friend had already received the signal.
Mike slowly lowered his gaze.
And there it was.
Again.
Firm and proud like a soldier standing at attention.
Son of a bitch. Seriously? AGAIN?
I'm not even thinking about anything sexual! I just remembered what happened!
…Well, technically that is something sexual.
He had been naked in front of a woman with huge boobs.
BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT!
Mike jumped up from the toilet and walked toward the shower with determination.
"Cold water," he said out loud. "Cold water and the problem's solved."
He turned the shower handle and stepped directly under the stream.
The water was freezing.
"SHIT!"
But it worked.
Within seconds his erection retreated like an army in defeat, and Mike was finally able to breathe with some peace of mind.
Good…
Cold water: one.
Traitorous dick: zero.
Mike adjusted the temperature until he found something between "polar ice" and "volcanic lava," then let himself relax under the sensation of warm water falling over his body.
This body is… weird.
Everything feels different.
Lighter, softer and more sensitive.
Even the water felt different against his skin.
He found soap on a shelf inside the shower—a soap that smelled like flowers and probably cost more than his old monthly rent—and started washing himself.
First his arms, carefully avoiding reopening the cut on his wrist. Then his hair—short and orange, which he discovered as he ran his fingers through it.
Orange hair… interesting.
At least the shitty god gave me an interesting design.
He soaped his face and hair, closing his eyes as foam covered his face.
And it was at that moment—with his eyes closed, face full of soap, and his guard completely down—that he heard something.
The sound of a door opening.
Mike froze under the stream of water, listening.
Soft footsteps across the bathroom tiles.
Huh?
"Lady Mara," the maid's voice sounded from somewhere in the bathroom. "I brought you clean clothes to change into when you finish."
Ah… it's her.
Mike relaxed his shoulders slightly.
So she just came to leave the clothes… how nice.
I guess she'll leave them and go.
But then the sound of the shower curtain opening echoed through the bathroom.
Mike couldn't see her since his eyes were closed because of the soap.
But he definitely felt her.
First it was the change in the air—a presence entering the confined space of the shower.
Then the sound of bare feet on the wet floor.
And finally—
Two soft, warm, and definitely large things pressing against his back.
Those are…
Arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and he felt a completely naked body pressing against his under the stream of water.
The maid's skin was hot against his.
Her breasts—those enormous breasts that defied physics—flattened against Mike's back with a pressure that was impossible to ignore.
Mike froze completely.
He couldn't open his eyes because of the soap.
He couldn't move because of the shock.
All he could do was feel.
The heat of her body against his. Her arms around his waist. And those breasts pressing against his back like two warm pillows.
WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING NOW!?
Mike couldn't see anything.
Soap covered his eyes, and his hands were too busy trying to process the situation to wipe his face.
But he didn't need to see to feel.
The maid's nipples—hard and firm—rubbed against his back with every small movement she made under the stream of water.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
With every breath the woman took, those two points of pressure slid over Mike's wet skin as if they were drawing circles of fire on his back.
And his dick responded to the call with lightning speed.
NOT AGAIN!
But it was already too late.
There it was—his dick harder than ever.
As if the previous two times had just been the warm-up.
DAMN IT! DIDN'T WE JUST SOLVE THIS WITH COLD WATER?!
Mike opened his mouth to say something, but before he could form a single syllable, he felt the maid's warm breath against his ear.
And her voice—soft and monotone—whispered in his ear.
"I see we have a little problem down here, Lady Mara."
One of her hands slid from Mike's waist further down.
"Let me fix it for you."