Common Sense...?
"This is just common sense for humans...! Uh, uh... common sense...?"
"Follow me."
The mage called out to me. The hero and the saintess just glanced my way without saying much.
I trailed after the mage into her tent, stealing nervous looks around. My soles stung with every step, and the chains dragged noisily behind me.
It was less a tent and more a massive pavilion, like a yurt. It towered at least twice my height. I'd seen it summoned with my own eyes just moments ago, but it was still hard to believe she'd whipped something like this up so casually.
The mage ducked inside first. A long flap of cloth hung over the entrance—thank god it wasn't a proper door. With my hands still bound, I tried to push it aside with my shoulder, but my horns got there first.
How big are these things...?
The fabric felt rough against my skin, thick and surprisingly heavy. She'd flung it aside with one hand, which just went to show how much stronger she was than me.
"Nngh!"
Even for something this trivial, the little grunt that slipped out—and this voice I still couldn't get used to—grated on my nerves.
The inside was way bigger than I'd guessed from outside. Despite being enclosed, the lighting from the high ceiling kept it from feeling dim. It had a cluttered vibe overall—not a mess, exactly, but the way the furniture was arranged, the notebooks strewn across the desk...
Along the edges sat a neatly made futon bed. Nearby was a broad desk piled with books, flanked by an enormous bookshelf. It was huge in every dimension, crammed floor-to-ceiling with thick tomes that looked ready to topple at any second.
Another desk overflowed with flasks and glass vials filled with colorful liquids. And next to that... a mirror?
"Turn around."
The abrupt command cut my sightseeing short. The mage was waving her hand lazily, like this was a huge bother.
"Huh?"
"You planning to shuffle around like that all day?"
I got the message. Asking more might mean she'd skip whatever she was gonna do for me. With my arms bound and the shackles on my ankles, even turning in place wasn't easy. I gingerly shifted my aching feet and pivoted.
Thud, plip-plop. Clank.
No footsteps approached, but suddenly the cords and shackles fell away.
I flexed my hands experimentally. "Uwaaah...!"
A prickling tingle raced from my fingers up my arms. These were my hands—attached to my body, moving at my command—but they didn't feel like mine. The sensation was off, and so was the slender, purple shape staring back at me.
"Hey, don't succubi have any manners?"
The sudden scolding jolted me. The mage stood there, arms crossed, glaring with clear displeasure.
"Eh?"
"You just waltzed into someone else's home—someone else's room."
I blinked. Each of them had their own tent, so yeah, it counted as a room. And with a bed, you could call it a home, I guess. Fair point, but...
Why's she making a fuss over that?
"Even tied up, I'll give you a pass for earlier. But you're still doing it now? Demon or not..."
Her lecturing tone shifted to something like pity or disappointment. What did I even do...?
"Ah!"
It hit me. I forced my stiff arms to move, fumbling in my belated haste.
"Slowly. Take it slow."
Even her magnanimous advice couldn't stop me. Sure, I looked like a purple-skinned succubus now, but I was a human guy inside—mentally, at least. And this wasn't about her being a mage; it was basic politeness in someone else's home.
How could I forget? Panic must've scrambled my brain. Everything had been so out of control...
"...A-all done."
And just like that, I stripped naked. No underwear—just a top and pants—but my changed body made even that a struggle. Shorter arms, ridiculously thick thighs, hips and chest that fought the fabric every inch. My sore feet didn't help.
I panted from the effort, standing fully exposed before the mage, nothing hidden. She finally cracked a smile, looking satisfied.
"...It actually works. Just like that."
"Huh?"
"What're you waiting for? Slippers off too."
Oh. I lifted my feet and kicked them off with a few taps. The brown slippers were stained reddish here and there—must've been blood seeping through.
The tent floor was smooth and level, like its own pocket dimension despite sitting in a forest clearing. Still hurt like hell standing barefoot on my wounds, though. A groan escaped me.
"Ah, right, you're hurt... Here, lie down on the bed."
Stripped bare, my breasts swayed freely. At least my arms were free now—I cupped them for support. Small mercy.
Pat-pat. As I shuffled slowly to the bed, the mage inspected my discarded slippers.
"These are expensive, you know. Bloodstains, dirt... Clean up properly next time..."
I might've felt indignant if she'd blamed me outright, but she just muttered to herself and trailed off. Afraid she'd chew me out if our eyes met, I quickened my pace a bit.
I flopped awkwardly onto the bed. The mage frowned down at me.
"Those tits are fucking gross. Don't they weigh you down?"
"...They do."
She tsked lightly at my answer. I had no idea why she hated them that much, but yeah—they were heavy and awkward. Needlessly perky too; even lying down, they held their shape.
The bed was softer and fluffier than the inn's. I hadn't properly lain down since they caught me. A day or so of chains, face-down humiliations, endless marching... My eyes drooped. The sudden tension release made sleep crash over me.
"Stick your feet off the edge."
Her tone was still brusque. My body obeyed on reflex. I wriggled slowly in place, dangling my ankles over the side. My massive breasts flopped wildly into view, blocking everything. Annoying as hell—this body always hid my lower field of vision behind them. Lying down, I couldn't even see my legs.
So when cold liquid splashed onto my feet, it snapped me wide awake.
"Ack, it's co—...?"
Not quite icy water—more like the sharp tingle of a fresh muscle rub. And itchy too. Really itchy. Exaggerating a bit, it felt like bugs crawling all over.
"Hold still."
The mage loomed nearby. One hand held a small vial, the other a thick book she'd pulled out who-knows-where.
"Um, th-this... it's too itchy...!"
"I said hold. Still."
I clamped my mouth shut. It tickled so bad I stomped my feet, but she didn't complain about that. She watched for a moment, then flipped open the book.
What the...? Not just water, huh? Medicine? Real medicine? Or some side effect? It's so, so itchy...!
"Ah, ugh, um, ex—cuse...!"
"Aisoll. Dinner's ready."
I was about to ask again when a voice called from outside. The mage scowled faintly, then left without a backward glance.
Only after the flap swished did I bolt upright, flailing. The breasts' weight forced me to brace on my elbows first.
"Ow, ugh. Hiss...!"
First time seeing them up close—my feet were a wreck. Purple soles streaked with white, but overall inflamed red. Scraped by rocks, split open from endless walking, some gashes torn wide...
The liquid seemed medicinal, though; wounds were knitting shut before my eyes. Still itched like mad, but touching might reopen them, so I just curled and uncurled my toes, legs twitching.
"Hoo...!"
At least it was a relief. Her first impression was rough, same with the second. I'd been worried sick. Maybe she wasn't that bad. Harsh words, but she took care of details. Let the late stripping slide without a fuss.
Dinner, huh. My stomach growled faintly. Hadn't eaten properly since transforming.
I stretched out my legs and leaned forward from a seated position. Nothing but lavender cleavage in view. Strands of pink hair draped over. I puffed them away.
These tits were so enormous, my nipples peeked just barely past them. I rubbed my belly underneath. Never groped a girl's chest even as a guy—and these were too huge, too purple for the thought to cross my mind.
Touching my soft, smooth belly was fine, though. Until I remembered the erogenous tattoo lurking below.
Come to think of it, this was the first time seeing my naked body like this. How was my skin this flawless...?
"...Huh?"
Wait. My hand froze mid-rub.
Stark naked. Buck naked. Wearing nothing. Why the hell did I strip?
Manners? Why did I think that was polite?
"Wh-why...?"
Why didn't it feel weird? Why only notice now? Why did I—
The hero party's schedule so far had been a brutal forced march. They'd crushed two demon legions, which warranted some rest, but they'd detoured to the nearby village and snagged a succubus on top.
The Demon King's forces were reeling, but the party's purpose was slaying the bastard himself—and he was still out there. Still, rest was key to maintaining combat strength. That's why the hero had secured the campsite early.
They hadn't packed ample rations for the rushed pace, though. Not starving yet, but dinner meant cut corners.
Tonight's meal was simple: dried grains from the village boiled in a small pot. Utensils were at the hero's spot. They could manage a fire without the mage.
The hero and saintess ate by the campfire first. The mage returned with a book and sat. The saintess handed her a pre-filled bowl.
The mage eyed it intently before offering a curt review of the menu.
"What the hell is this?"
Youngest in the party and the pickiest eater, she never praised but always griped.
"They expect us to eat this?"
Strong words, but the others knew her well enough to brush it off.
"Circumstances are what they are. Couldn't be helped with the rush."
"Haaah. Fuck, what even is this shit...?"
The mage sighed dramatically. Her tone was meant to be overheard, but the saintess just quietly emptied her bowl.
The hero cleared his throat after finishing most of his. "...Learn anything, Aisoll?"
The mage, still poking at her food suspiciously, grumbled back. "That's why I called her over."
"So the succubus is still inside?"
Aisoll finally scooped a spoonful, chewing with her small mouth. Not bad, actually.
"Sprayed her with something to shut up her whining. Did the basics for now."
"Basics?"
A sly smile crept over Aisoll's face as she chewed.
"Y'know, the simple stuff. She's a demon, right? Lets us try all the things we couldn't before. Sound good?"
Her last question wasn't for the hero. The saintess stayed silent, though her brow furrowed ever so slightly.