Zelretch 1: (Written by Morgan)

Don't annoy Zelretch. This is, of course, generally a good idea when one considers that his sense of humour is inhuman at best. And I do not mean that you should avoid actively annoying the Wizard Marshall. In fact, should you attempt to do so, he is more likely to simply find it amusing than actually annoying. No, I am warning you not to actually annoy him. Herein lies the hard part. Zelretch is not human, and hardly thinks like one. Even the most distorted of people would have trouble comprehending such a thing. So instead? Simply avoid him. He is not often at the Clock Tower. When he is, take a leave of absence. A vacation maybe. Being in his vicinity is… generally bad.

The Wizard Marshall was stomping through the halls of the Clock Tower. He was in a foul mood for reasons only he knew, and woe to anyone who got in his way.

A First Generation Canadian magus by the name of Joan was nudged by another student, hurrying to make it to class. This caused the young woman to lose her footing and slip in front of the Wizard Marshall, bumping into him. She immediately apologized but that only made him madder. Muttering something about how all Canadians ever did was apologize for the most mundane of nonsense, he tapped her on the head once before going on his way and leaving the young woman dazed.

When Joan recovered, she took half a dozen steps forwards before dropping the books she was carrying onto the foot of a passing magus. She made to apologize, but as soon as the words passed her lips, Joan found herself stripping off her clothes.

Her cloak hit the ground, soon followed by her shirt leaving her only in a modest icy blue bra with white lace trim about the top of the cups. Her shoes and leggings followed suit, as did her shorts. Her panties were… a bit less mature than her bra, being bikini cut with the fabric a similar icy blue as her bra. But the assortment of cheery little snowmen that dotted the undergarment made it look much more like something fit for a child than for a young woman in her early twenties.

The few onlookers didn't get to see her in her underwear for long, though only because within a few seconds her underwear had joined the rest of her clothes in a pile on the ground. The only thing she had left on her was her glasses, which she kept even as she dropped to her knees and prostrated herself in front of the mage upon who's foot she had dropped her books.

"I'm truly sorry for my indiscretions against you!" Joan shouted out, forehead and breasts—and what nice breasts they were—pressed to the ground and bare ass pointed towards the ceiling.

The magus was dumbfounded. Perhaps a more experienced or less scrupulous man would have attempted to take more advantage of the scene, but he just watched in shock, before spinning around as the Joan yelped in embarrassment, seeming to recover her senses. She made to gather up her clothes, before flinching and clutching her head as if suffering a migraine. And then, rather than gather up her clothes and return to a state of modesty in the privacy of a bathroom or the like, she began to slowly dress in the middle of the hallway, flushing at the stares she was garnering. As soon as she had finished, she regained control of her body and fled the leering stares of her fellow classmates.

Throughout the next week, the same scene was repeated more times than one can readily recount. Each time the young woman apologized, she subsequently stripped naked and prostrated herself before the person she had wronged. As a Canadian, she apologized quite frequently. The result was that her peers quickly discovered that the Joan quite liked to wear snow-themed undergarments; childish ones at that. By the end of the week, every inch of her body was more or less public record, much to her intense shame. She too had become quite the laughing stock of the younger generations. The older magus knew better than to mock her misfortune at having run astray of the Wizard Marshall. Such a thing might well call his ire upon them, just as it had upon her. And nobody wanted that.

Still, Joan did not stay around the Clock Tower long, as more and more people began to maliciously attempt to force her into situations that would result in her before forced to apologize. She returned to Canada, moving back to her hometown and secluding herself in her house.

Zelretch seemed not to like the idea that the target of his punishment escaped him, and so placed a compulsion that pushed her to both want human contact and force her into situations wherein she would be feel the need to apologize, and in so doing force herself to strip naked and humiliate herself. He also changed her psyche so that she would never not be embarrassed to be seen in a state of undress, or naked. With such compulsions, Joan never stayed in one place for too long, always moving somewhere else so as not to become the laughing stock of whatever place she resided in.

In time, the Wizard Marshall was… convinced to return her to her original state. She quickly disappeared into the wilds of the Canadian wastes, shunning most human contact. But I managed to track her down. Well, I say that. Truthfully, I found the Wizard Marshall and called him an old pervert. He was amused at that, and so took me to her house, hidden away.

I knocked on the door, and when she opened it, I apologized for being, at least partially responsible for her humiliation over the past year. (And it had been going on for about a year before Zelretch could be convinced to stop his tormenting of the poor woman.) I had been in a hurry and had shoved Joan out of my way as I hurried to a lecture. That shove had resulted in her angering the Wizard Marshall and everything that followed.

Joan forgave me easily enough. She was a good person, quite unsuited to be a magus, if I am frank. Still, I did not think my apology good enough, despite that I had been willing to track her down, and even enlist the help of the Wizard Marshall (Though God only knows why he decided to help me) in finding her, all to apologize for an unintentional mistake. It appeared that Zelretch agreed that my apology was lacking, and with a snap of his fingers, I found myself stripping.

Where Joan had simply tossed her clothes in front of her, I laid mine out in a meticulous fashion. Shirt, folded. Pants, folded and placed besides my shirt. Shoes, side-by-side. Socks, neatly rolled together. Yellow fullback panties, placed atop my folded pants. Pink bra, the same except on my shirt. And so I was completely naked, with Joan staring at me wide-eyed.

Once again, I differed from Joan in my bowing. Where she had kneeled, I simply bent at my waist. I was not the most flexible person, but I managed a sharp enough bow. Such an action caused my breasts to swing about beneath me, and I blushed even more than I already was as they did so. I remember saying "I am sorry for my actions against you, accidental as they may have been." I held that position for a good minute before I felt capable of dressing myself once more. Once I had done so, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and met Joan's eyes. She gave me a look of pained comradery, and in that moment I knew at least in part what she had gone through.

The man responsible for this looked entirely amused with the whole thing. "Since you think her punishment for… whatever it was that she did wrong, then you can have her punishment."

Joan protested, claiming that it was an accident, and no one should be punished for such a thing, but her words fell on deaf ears. It is not as if you can convince Zelretch of your position once his mind is set. He is fickle, but once made his course is set. For my part, I simply accepted his words. Unlike Joan, I was not a First Generation magus, and knew well the pointlessness of arguing with the Wizard Marshall.

After ignoring Joan's protests for a good bit, the Wizard Marshall reached over and slapped her across the face.

"Well if you're so ungrateful, you can just have your punishment back," he said, before disappearing, leaving me on Joan's doorstep. She cursed his name in English and French before inviting me inside to eat and talk. We got along quite nicely. So nicely in fact that I stayed the night. And the next night. And the next week. Month. Year.

And that, children, is how I met your mother. As for how she's your mother, while I am also a woman… well, blame Zelretch. He reappeared soon after we married (Two years after I had first truly met Joan.) grinning.

"I know you've both always wanted a family," he said. I don't believe either of us was entirely in the right mind, as he had popped in while we were both in our bedroom naked and curled together. Joan's first reaction was to yelp and chuck a lamp at him. Mine was just to pull a pillow up to hide my nakedness and blush furiously. "So, I've taken the liberty of making you both pregnant!" I'm sure we both had a look of horror on our faces, so the Wizard Marshall explained in greater detail. "Don't worry, I just found male versions of each of you and, well… I hope I don't need to explain the birds and the bees to you two? I'll admit, it would be a new experience at least. Altrouge tried to rip out my throat when I tried it on her, so."

And with that he was gone. It… I'll admit, it took us some time to get used to the idea of what he had done, but he was right. We had both wanted a family, though his methods of doing so are… distasteful. Still, your mother and I couldn't have a better pair of children.

With that, Taylor Lavoie leaned back in her armchair and looked at the two teens seated in front of her. The oldest, a girl eighteen years and two weeks of age sighed and shook her head.

"I can see why you and Mom don't speak too fondly of the Wizard Marshall," she said. "And why you don't want me going to the Clock Tower to study."

From where she was sitting, Joan nodded in agreement. "You're smart. You'd do well there, but…"

The younger child, a boy eighteen years exactly of age frowned. "Understandable, Mom. But honestly, did you have to go into so much detail about what you and Mother wore? And Sister dearest, did you have to ask such a long winded question on my birthday of all days?"

As one, all three women said "Sorry," before spinning to glare at the only male in the room.

"Ryan!" Joan yelped angrily.

Taylor simply shook her head. "I taught you too well," she muttered.

"You little shit!" his sister cried out. "I'll strangle you!"

Her arms moved, to be sure, but not towards his throat. Instead they moved to the buttons of her dress, undoing them and letting the garment fall to the floor, revealing her strapless black bra and matching thong.

His mothers' were soon in the same state, sporting only their underwear. In Joan's case, she clearly hadn't changed her tastes much in the years since then, as her underwear was still an icy blue, just as Taylor had described. This time, her panties were full-backs with shimmering white snowflakes, while her bra was almost identical to the one she had worn back when she was twenty one. Her body was almost in the same condition as well. That was probably the only good thing about their run in with the Wizard Marshall. He had apparently made it so that Joan didn't age, at least physically, still looking like they were in their early twenties.

This evidently extended to Taylor, which was plainly obvious as her body was quite obviously on display, stripped down to her forest green side-tie panties and lacy yellow bra. It seemed to Ryan that her colour coordination hadn't gotten much better in the years between then and now.

In short order, their underwear was also on the floor. Joan was kneeling, forehead and breasts pressed to the floor and ass in the air. Taylor was bent at the waist, breasts swinging as she leaned forwards. His sister matched her mother, kneeling on the floor and pressing her breasts and face on the ground.

"I'm sorry for the trouble!" all three chorused. Ryan smiled as he took in the sight. Then he pointed at their clothes.

"Fuego Temporalis." Ghostly flames burst forth from his finger engulfing the three woman's clothes. "What happens if you can't get redressed?" Ryan wondered aloud.

"The compulsion lasts for ten minutes," Taylor said, bowed over as she was. "If our clothes are destroyed. I tested it on your mom. I am a magus after all."

Ryan nodded solemnly. "Then… what if I haven't destroyed your clothes, at least not permanently?"

Taylor considered it. "Then… the compulsion should last until our clothes are returned."

"Well then." Ryan grinned cheerfully. "I hope you like it here. I'm going to go eat some cake."

"How… how long does that spell of yours last?" Joan whimpered from where she was kneeling.

Ryan shrugged. "About… twelve hours?"

His sister erupted into angry curses. "You little fucker, I will kick your teeth in!" she raged. "Count the hours, you asshole, because that's how long you have to live!"

"Projection," Ryan declared. A wooden cricket bat appeared in his hand. "Then I'd better make the most of those hours. Such language, sister dearest. I think that needs to be punished."

"You piece of shi-aaaah!" His sister cried out as he brought the bat down across her backside. Twack. Scream. Curse. Music to his ears.

This requiem of pain and humiliation would continue for quite a long time. His sister cursed him out, Joan lamented where she went wrong with him, while Taylor simply grunted in pain and bitched about his technique. He knew she was still embarrassed though. Moreso when he brought out the vibes and feathers and all other manner of toys to supplement the paddle.

As the time ticked on and his mothers' and sister screamed and wailed and sobbed and cursed and begged and everything else you could imagine, Ryan smiled and the cacophony. Best. Birthday. Ever. Sure, tomorrow would suck once they were free. Still, he looked forwards to the challenge of seeing how many times he could trick his family into apologizing to him. It would be an interesting game… for him. Humiliating for them. But then, maybe his mother shouldn't have pushed his mom into the Wizard Marshall Zelretch all those years ago.

And this is why you don't annoy Wizard Marshall Zelretch.

Extra: Boy or Girl : Enkidu (Written by Sash)

When asked about their gender:

"I don't really have a gender," Enkidu said. "I'm just clay after all."

When asked about their underwear:

"What underwear am I wearing?" Enkidu tilted their head to the side. "I admit I find it unnatural and don't wear anything under my tunic, but if I were to wear it I think something with an animal would be nice. Maybe a dog?"

When asked to prove their gender:

"Prove it? I'm really not lying, but if you wish it Master I will do as you want," Enkidu said as they reached for the hem of their tunic.

"..."

"'Start from the top'?" Enkidu looked puzzled. "I'm not sure why, and anyway I can't."

"'Turn away then'?" Enkidu asked. "Alright, Master, if that's what you want."

Enkidu turned away and lifted their tunic over their head. From behind it was impossible to tell if they were a man or woman. They had smooth skin that was clean of blemishes and held an all-too-perfect color.

Soft white skin covered their body from the nape of their neck to their shoulders (that somehow managed to look both masculine and feminine at the same time). Likewise, their waist was thin, but toned, but not so toned that they had any obvious masculinity.

Even their ass was somehow perfectly androgynous. While the lack of hair and the curve of Enkidu's body as if flowed from their waist to hips to ass made them seem almost feminine, but there was a certain hardness that made Enkidu's ass seem somehow like it belonged on a guy (a really hot guy).

"..."

"Slowly? Truly Master, I don't understand you," Enkidu said as they nonetheless turned around.

Washboard was generally an insult used to poke at a lack of traditional genetic femininity in a girl's body, but even though Enkidu had no breasts or even breast tissue they somehow managed to overflow with maidenly charm.

But Enkidu was more than a maiden. Their chest was held high and with a stereotypically masculine confidence. A stalwart block of soft flesh laced with sinew.

Enkidu's upper body was enough that if they had stood shirtless at a beach they would have attracted both thirsty men and women and the lecherous gazes of unscrupulous perverts.

While they didn't have visible abs, Enkidu's midriff was devoid of any unattractive fat. From their firm belly to their nether regions there was no hair or any blemish of any kind.

A quick glance was spared at Enkidu's thighs that would have looked perfect in either a well-fitted men's suit or hugged by thigh-high socks, but the most important part was…

Enkidu didn't fidget or show any signs of embarrassment as they stood naked in front of their Master. Not that they had anything to be embarrassed about. They weren't feminine enough to be self-conscious about their chest, and their ass was something that they didn't consider sexual. Speaking of sexual, the most potentially embarrassing part, their sexual organs, were nowhere to be found.

After all, a clay doll would have no reason for such things, even if they had more free will then the barbie dolls their sexual anatomy resembled. And while Enkidu had enough of a soul that they were no mere doll, the fact of the matter was that they had been created as a genderless existence.

When asked about sex:

"Man or woman, I don't care either way. Certainly, I have felt attraction to some people, Shamhat first among them," Enkidu said without any hesitation or embarrassment. "But, in the end, sex for pleasure is more human than I, and so I never felt the pull to it."

"..."

"Who would I have sex with?" Enkidu thought for a second. "Shamhat, I suppose. And Gilgamesh, if he wanted to." Enkidu said, before looking at their Master. "Were you hoping that I'd say you, Master? Sorry, but while I could have sex with you I probably wouldn't."

New story thing. I need to stop. But then again, variety keeps me going. Well, as for this story, I'm mostly trying to come up with as many ways to lewd the cast of the Nasuverse as I can. Comment if you have any ideas or characters or whatever. Next chapter stars Waver, while the chapter after that...Shirou probably. And hey, if you follow my work, next chapter of Shattered Armour goes up Friday, while Summer Rose Side Stories begin on Monday. The update timer on this one... sporadic at best? But I'll try to have a chapter of this ever other Wednesday. Yell at me if I don't.

Sash: I didn't beta this chapter. Actually, I probably won't ever beta this story, so the writing might be a little less coherent than in other stories. This is more of a dumping ground to get through writer's block (although, I don't get writers block, I just get lazy).