Since the gorgeous elf straddling me wasn’t letting me up, I shifted beneath her weight to look past her.

A dome vaulted high above, the center open to what looked to be a full, blue moon. The rest of the surface was painted in images so vibrant, they might have been alive. My gaze fell on a stunning maiden wearing nothing but her hair of liquid gold, which seemed to ripple on an unseen breeze. Her aquamarine eyes locked on an equally gorgeous elf man in armor or mirrored plates, her knee was hooked over his hip. I followed the direction of the spear he was holding.

It pointed at the same woman, this time with her legs spread, mounted in missionary position by a different but equally handsome elf. My Southern Baptist upbringing told me to avert my eyes, but I instead took a broader view. All of the females in the murals covering the ceiling and walls were the same one, naked and engaged in some flirtatious or licentious behavior.

Well, not all the females, since a handful of her partners were also women.

Despite, or perhaps because of that Evangelical upbringing, my heart pounded against the confines of my chest. I couldn’t help but to study what looked to be the back story of this maiden.

Two images stood out in that she wasn’t paired with another elf; in one, she wore an enticing gaze as she beckoned a bearded human with blue fire in his palms. The last scene sent a chill down my spine: She crouched on her elbows and knees while a minotaur took her from behind. He yanked a chain so taut around her neck, my own breath hitched in a strange mix of thrill and primal fear.

My hands shot up to my throat, freezing when my fingers didn’t find an Adam’s apple.

Just what did I look like? I went to sit up, and this time, the woman relented. With deliberate grace, she slid back onto her heels, then, in one fluid motion, caught my hands and rose up.

Her pull brought me to my feet. My balance felt wrong, whether it was from the squishy surface beneath the feet or the fact that this was a new body, I couldn’t tell. All I knew was that my legs wobbled like a newborn giraffe. I looked down, but my boobs blocked my line of sight.

And now that I was standing, they were glorious. Total Goldilocks Zone. Not too big, not too small, but just right. I leaned forward to look past them, only to stumble into the woman’s arms.

I shot my hands out to the side so as not to touch her, even as our bodies felt so soft against each other.

“Something isn’t right, you’re stiff as a corpse,” she said, supporting me under the arms while stepping back.

I’d always wondered what it would feel like to have real breasts, and now that her hands pressed up against the side of mine, I have to say I was quite disappointed. It didn’t feel any different from palming my pecs.

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Then she drew her hands back, and a finger innocuously brushed across one of my nipples.

A shiver coursed through my spine, and heat flared between my legs.

I looked down to find tiny feet, slender legs, slim waist… everything was so… small.

Or missing.

Not even on the most frigid day could my Most Hated Thing shrink enough to hide in the wisps of amber hair now at the apex of my thighs.

I brushed wavy copper locks out of my face to confirm. My dick was gone. Had the woman not been eying me, I would’ve reached down to make sure.

If this was really happening, and not just some hallucination from taking too many punches to the head, it was turning out to be the best day of my life. I searched the room for any reflective surface.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” the woman asked, favoring me with a suspicious gaze. “You can’t stand straight, and you’re looking around like you’re lost. Like you’ve never been in this room before.”

Gee, I wonder why? I would’ve snorted if it wouldn’t have outed me as an imposter.

I rubbed my throat. “I… I don’t know. I feel all right, but my mind… it’s so foggy. My memory… Where am I? And who are you?”

And how did I get this voice? It sounded like Ariana Grande singing the dialog of a cutesy Japanese anime character.

This fantastic revelation fizzled in my heart when I saw the hurt in her expression.

“You don’t remember my name?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I should’ve never given in to your sacrilegious fetish.” Her gaze strayed to my throat.

My very existence was a sacrilegious fetish to my family and church, what could be worse than that? I tilted my head, and again, coppery hair curtained my face. I blew it out of the way.

“It’s endearing gestures like that.” The woman covered a giggle with delicate fingers while tucking the hair behind my ear with the other. “That’s how you convinced me to choke you.”

I had to stifle my own gasp. Was I—Alyna— into erotic asphyxiation?

“Please tell me your name,” I said, “maybe it will jog my memory.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think one of those nasty human cultivators had wiped your memory.”

Cultivators? How could farmers erase someone’s memories? I tilted my head again.

She sighed. “Makayla.”

I nodded, as if that name meant something to me.

Sadly, I was never a good actor, and Makayla frowned. “Abbess of the Sanctuary of Kavala’s Vessel.”

Sanctuary? Abbess? I knew enough from Sunday School that the Catholics had Abbots and Abbesses, and they were practically dictators in their respective monasteries and convents. And, I’d aced my Intro to Women’s Studies last semester, where I’d first learned about power dynamics.

She was in charge of Alyna, and perhaps had exploited her.

But I was new to this world, didn’t know these two’s history, so I couldn’t jump to conclusions. I studied this Makayla.

We stood eye-to-eye, so we were the same height. She wasn’t built like an anime girl, with enormous breasts and an impossibly tiny waist; nor like Kim Kardashian with a huge butt. Rather, every curve swept in flawless proportion, every angle from her rounded shoulders to the arc of her hip bone accentuating perfection.

Between the coppery strands at the apex of my thighs and the silvery tendrils on hers, I deduced that elves didn’t believe in Brazilians. Yet besides the hair there and on our heads, our skin was milky smooth.

One of her silver eyebrows rose. “You’re looking at me as if for the first time.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “Something must’ve happened when I passed out. I don’t remember anything.”

“Maybe I can remind you.” The right side of her mouth quirked as she stepped closer.

She took my hand, brought it up, and kissed my knuckles.

My heart stuttered.

I might be new to this body, but it remembered Makayla’s lips and reacted in kind.