Succubus Traits Even I Didn't Know
The mage's bed was completely different from the inn's. The inn's mattress had been lumpy and scratchy in places, but this one was plush and soft. Soft enough that I unwittingly thought I could just lie down and sleep. The blanket was much cleaner, too.
Even so, I couldn't stay lying there any longer. The sleepiness had vanished completely.
"What the hell... no, why did I...?"
My feet were still itching. The wound healing rapidly was creepy as hell. And the hunger I'd started to notice wouldn't go away. But none of that mattered anymore.
I took off my clothes. Right in front of someone else. Because it felt like the polite thing to do. I didn't even realize how weird that was. Of course, with no underwear, my nipples—and that thing between my legs—must have been fully visible.
"Ahhh...?"
The clothes I'd shed like a skin were sprawled in the middle of the tent. It went beyond embarrassing; it was absurd. My head hurt. Setting aside the fact that I'd been a man and this body was female.
The idea that stripping—and exposing myself like that—had felt totally normal...
This was magic. It had to be. No way I'd do something like that for no reason. Absolutely not.
The mage hadn't said a word about it, and if anything, she'd subtly encouraged it.
"Ha, haha..."
The spell keeping my throat from drying out was appreciated. The one for pitching the tent was impressive. But a spell that toyed with my thoughts like this? One that kept me from even noticing something was off?
This... this was scary.
"What, you're just sitting there."
A nonchalant voice. I whipped my head around with a start—the mage was coming in. Without thinking, I covered my chest with my hands. My small hands weren't nearly enough to hide everything. The feel of that against my palms. The sensation of them being touched. Plus the immense weight on my arms, and the fleeting illusion that my back and shoulders felt lighter for a moment...
No hands left over, so I clamped my thighs together as tight as I could. The mage smirked at the sight.
"Still, you figured it out somehow?"
"H-how! What... what the hell did you do to me!"
My voice came out louder than I'd meant. The first time I'd yelled in this body. The high pitch ringing in my ears felt so strange. But the mage's smile only deepened.
"Simple suggestion spell. It worked so easily I wondered when it'd wear off, but damn, you're quick."
Suggestion. Simple one. The way she kept smirking while saying it pissed me off. What the hell was so funny?
Even amid the fear, anger started bubbling up. What the hell was even normal anymore?
"G-give me my clothes! Right now!"
The mage bent down without a word and pinched the top between two fingers, tossing it my way like it was trash. It smacked into my chest and fell. Not painful, but humiliating. I glared at her. The childish, youthful face still wore that grin.
I released my chest and grabbed the clothes. The weight I'd briefly lifted slammed back onto my shoulders and back. But covering up was priority one. I didn't know fashion, or medieval clothes, but compared to the hero party's outfits, this was crude. Rough fabric, drab brown color.
Still, it was the first normal clothing I'd worn since that underwear-like rag from the inn. The only thing to cover me right now.
But.
"Uh. Uh...?"
"Why aren't you putting it on? I went out of my way."
I couldn't bring myself to wear it. It felt like I shouldn't. I knew I had to—clothes right in my hands—but my hands just trembled. I couldn't do it.
"Don't tell me demon races don't even know how to dress? Or do succubi just roam around naked by default...?"
No, that couldn't be. Even if I looked like a demon succubus, I was human. But why?
I couldn't understand myself. Why couldn't I even put on clothes...?
"...Ah, the suggestion! Release it right now!"
It hit me late. The suggestion—why else couldn't I wear the clothes even when she handed them over?
The mage finally dropped her grin. "Smarter than you look. And this isn't a suggestion."
"What?"
"It's a rule."
A rule? What the hell...?
The mage explained readily, not out of kindness but like she was showing off.
"A rule you must obey in this space. Stronger than a suggestion. I just made it up on the spot, and you fell for it perfectly."
Guess that shows how pathetic and worthless you are. Her mutter hit harder than the explanation, but the words stuck with me more. Stronger than a suggestion. A "rule" I must obey. That's why I couldn't wear clothes?
"R-rules or whatever! Why the hell are you doing this to me!"
"And your speech got awfully curt all of a sudden?"
"Please stop messing around, Mage-nim...! Wh-what?"
I felt it myself. The sudden honorific toward the mage had slipped out.
"What did you do to me now! No, no! Why is my speech to you—Mage-nim—like this!"
"Told you, it's something you must obey. Sounds better, though."
The mage's reply was curt. Her expression, no longer smiling, was icy. It reminded me of our first meeting at the inn, when she'd spat "demon" at me. My head started to cool.
I dropped the clothes from my grip. A rule. Restricting my actions, my speech. Right now it was just forced politeness and stripping, but worse was possible. Hell, with magic, anything was. And like with the clothes at first, I might not even notice.
"Haa, enough games. Lie down."
"Uh, y-yes?"
"I hate repeating myself."
The village elder's blunder from earlier today flashed in my mind. I slowly lay back. The bed was still soft, but my heart was uneasy, anxious. The weight on my chest felt oppressively gross again.
The mage came to my side and opened a book. She glanced between me and the pages.
"Seriously, of all things, a succubus..."
I didn't know what she meant, but it wasn't a question. I lay there silently. My hands balled into fists. My feet no longer itched—from tension. Tension over what she'd do next.
In this mess, the one silver lining—really the only one—was that the hero party were all women. The hero, the saintess, Mage-nim, and that dark giantess who wasn't here now. All women. Thank god.
If even one was a man. If any of them was a man. If the mage beside me was a boy instead of a girl...
"Eek?"
"Don't make weird noises."
Lower abdomen—hidden by my breasts, where the erogenous tattoo was. A light poke. Not once, but twice, three times.
"The thing actually looks like it."
Poking with one finger, now rubbing. No gentleness at all—rougher than when I touched it myself.
"H-hngh, Ma-Mage-nim...!"
Just touching my belly felt different. Way different.
"Told you not to talk... What, it even glows?"
I heard it clear as day. Glows? This? The erogenous tattoo?
"Aisoll, any progress? Er, um."
Another voice. I lifted my head slightly. Barely visible past my breasts: the hero and the saintess.
"I said knock before coming in."
"S-sorry. B-but. Right now."
The hero's words. The saintess beside her grimaced subtly too.
The mage must've noticed the stares; she pulled her hand away.
"Not what you pervs are thinking, so quit staring like that."
"H-hm. S-sorry. So, did you learn anything?"
The mage slammed the thick book shut and waved it.
"Records are scarce. Super rare even among demons. Only one book in my library, and just a few lines in this ratty old thing."
Everyone looked at her—even me. She raised a hand, two fingers up.
"Not sure about the Magic Tower's archive... Anyway. Two key points."
She lowered her hand. I couldn't see past my chest, but her words pointed it out.
"First, this thing glows."
"...When?"
The saintess's question. The mage shrugged.
"No idea. It just glows, apparently."
I groaned involuntarily. The erogenous tattoo in that weird spot was bad enough. And it glowed?
"Ahh...?"
All eyes turned to me. Obvious where. Man or woman, being exposed like this with everyone staring intently was horrifying. I wanted to cover it with my hands.
"Second, she doesn't eat."
"Then what?"
Curiosity pierced my dread. What then? Succubi didn't eat? But I felt hungry.
The mage answered with a slightly dissatisfied look.
"She eats, I guess... but no normal digestion, no excretion. Only semen sustenance."
Semen sustenance. I knew what it meant. But no. I'm not. Human. A man.
The mage added firmly.
"Sustains on semen directly, it seems."
"...For real?"
The saintess's follow-up.
"That's what it says."
"The form is bad enough, but such a depraved race..."
The hero's assessment.
"Right? Semen, of all things..."
"...Hnnngh."
My sob leaked out. The mage looked down, flustered.
"Hey, you crying?"
The tears burst out unbidden, but I couldn't stop.
"H-hic, ha, haaa...?"
No. I'd been human. A man. I'd been trying to accept this body, even the erogenous tattoo. But this? No. Please no.
This was too much. How could anyone live like that? On semen. Semen.
I'd been a man. Human. What the hell was this?
"H-hey. Why're you suddenly—crying?"
"A-ahh. Hwaaa, waaaa...!"
The mage tried telling me to stop, but I kept sobbing, lying there. I felt so pathetic. Living like this was too horrific.
"Hwaaa...?"
And amid it all, hunger weakened my cries. It just made me sadder.