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The photoshoot took hours. Hours of wearing a purple dress, decorated with matching bows and wearing tasteful makeup. Hours of sitting on that egg, lying on it, hugging it, leaning on it. All in the most feminine poses the satyr behind the camera could conceive.

Had it been up to Xodiac, he would have walked away. Dress or no dress, it was only a couple of blocks to his apartment. He'd live. But his agreement to help had given the fae creature some sort of power over him. He did what the satyr wanted, and if that was to purse his lips and blow a kiss at the camera as he bent over at the waist, hands on his butt... well, that's what he did.

At least nobody he knew had happened by. Plenty of others had, though. This was all taking place in a clearing in a public park, in full view of one of the paths winding through it. Some had looked hard enough to realize that he was a male, beneath the makeup and dress and everything else. A couple had gasped in shock, mostly the older ones, but most had chuckled and shaken their heads. One had taken out his phone and had a little photoshoot of his own.

Jerk.

But the satyr was clearly about done taking photos. He was taking longer to suggest new positions for the dragote to try, thinking harder before each one, and taking fewer pictures of each. "All right," he said at last. "I think we're done."

Xodiac felt something within him release. "We're done?" he said cautiously. The fae's control over him had even extended to his voice, preventing any complaints. "We're finally done?"

"I think so, yes."

"About goddamned time!" Xodiac exclaimed. "Are you going to get this crap off me now?"

"Hey, no need for such language," the satyr said, frowning. "That's a pretty nice dress! Top quality!"

"I don't give a damn about its quality!" Xodiac shouted as he stomped over to loom over his tormentor. The satyr barely came up to his waist, and the dragote wasn't particularly tall. "What I care about is that it's a dress! I want it off! You and your stupid fairies can screw off for all I care, but I'm out of here."

"Hey," the satyr said, voice stern. "Don't call them fairies. It's rude. They're pixies."

"I. Don't. Care!" Xodiac ground out. "This sort of garbage just keeps happening to me! Gah! I think God must hate me."

"Have you considered you might not be very likable?"

"Oh, shut up." Xodiac walked back to the tent. "Hey! Fairies! I'm done, now. Get this dress off me!" he yelled as he stepped inside.

It was the same dim, cramped interior as before, but this time it felt somehow menacing. "Shall we take the dress off him?" the voice he'd heard before asked.

But before Xodiac could insist they'd damn well better, the susurrus of insect wings filled the tent. "He called us fairies," another voice answered, different from the first. Deeper. "Twice!"

"Shall we remove the dress?" the first voice asked again.

The sound of wings grew louder. Xodiac gulped. Maaaaybe he'd goofed. "Look, I'm sor—"

"Yes," the deeper voice interrupted. "Let us remove... the dress."

"Oh! Well. Thanks."

Once more the swarm of lights flowed out from the corner and surrounded him. This time he stayed still, letting the fai— the pixies do their work. The whirlwind was faster this time, and he got the distinct feeling they were irritated at him. Well, fine. He was pretty irritated at them, too.

There was a tug around his body, and he felt something lifted away. Another tug on his feet, and a whisper around his neck. And then the pixies retreated. "There you go," the first voice said. "No more dress."

"Great. Thanks!" Xodiac said, and meant it. Then he looked down.

They'd removed the dress, all right. But they'd removed only the dress. Well, and the shoes. They'd left him the lavender stockings, as well as the lace-edged panties, bra, and garter belt the dress had previously covered. "Hey!"

"You wanted the dress removed," the pixie said. It sounded unbearably smug. "So we did! You never said anything about the rest!" It giggled and flew off.

"Hey! Get back here!" Xodiac glared into the corner where it had gone. Dammit, they'd even left the makeup on! "How am I supposed to get home like this?" There was no answer, except for another giggle. "Goddamn fairies," he murmured, and left the tent.

The satyr looked him over as he emerged. "Oh, you want more photos?" he asked.

"What? No, of course n—"

The photographer continued as if Xodiac hadn't tried to answer. "You should have told me! Well, I'm certainly willing to take more pictures of you. Of the more racy variety, of course. I mean, that's clearly what you have in mind, dressed like that." He grinned and brandished his camera again.

"No, I doaaack!" Just as it had earlier in the afternoon, Xodiac's body suddenly stopped obeying him. He found himself walking over to the other egg, the yellow one.

"My permit runs for another couple of hours," the satyr mused. "Maybe we can get some moonlight shots. What do you think, cutie?"

I think I want to kill somebody, the dragote answered. But only in his mind. Aloud, he heard himself say, "That sounds like fun! Say... Are satyrs... proportional?"

"Play your cards right, love, and maybe you'll find out!" the creature said, and then made Xodiac giggle in reply. Far more convincingly than the puppet he was, the dragote smiled alluringly and began to pose on top of the egg.

Goddamn fairies.

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This picture was, of course, done by  raya-banana. You can see her posting of it here. The story is by me. 959 words (this part).