We're Not a Couple
"Ugh. Ungh."
This was definitely not the pathetic noise I made when I came too easily. It was a moan that slipped out involuntarily from Laila's hands kneading my waist while I lay prone.
Thankfully, last night I'd passed out before Hanbyeol returned. The holy relic in its underwear form had kept supplying me with nutrients, letting me hold on intermittently, but my mental strength had already hit its limit. According to Laila, I'd fallen asleep less than ten minutes after Hanbyeol left—surprisingly quickly.
The problem was waking up with my back in agony, like it might snap in two, making it impossible to get up.
"Isn't your body a bit too frail?"
"I can't help it... I can't grow any stronger here."
If I weren't max level, I could've invested some stat points into stamina when leveling up. But in the game, I was too busy pumping everything into mental strength and intelligence to boost my heal output and mana regen. There wasn't even a stamina stat, or anything for health, so a healer who didn't need to be on the front lines wasting points on stamina was basically a failed character.
Sure, event stat reset scrolls let some PVP healers go wild with custom skill trees and builds—spoon-wielding murder machines—but my main content was raids. And the result? This pathetically fragile body.
Being max level meant no more levels, period. Would working out and getting sore even build muscle? Now that it was reality, it'd be nice if it did, but honestly, I was skeptical. Skills mostly followed the game system for convenience—would reality bend the same way? If it did, resurrection wouldn't have worked.
With all my stats sunk into mental strength and intelligence, I figured there was no way to toughen this body up. I'd just have to live with its delicate frailty.
"Ughhh. Stop, please. It'll get better if I rest a bit."
The sensation like my spine was being filleted sent chills down my arms. I stopped Laila. She paused pressing her palms into my back but slyly tickled it with her fingertips.
"You need to ask your owner nicely."
"We're not having sex right now."
"But we're on the bed?"
I screwed up that contract. Yesterday, blinded by pleasure, I'd just said okay, and now I regretted it a little. But whatever—it wasn't like I couldn't deliver. If I ever got pent up, I could call Laila guilt-free.
Honestly, her technique was better than Iris's anyway.
"Please stop, Owner."
"Good girl. Let me help you change."
Laila abruptly peeled off my stockings and pulled out the pristine white priestess robe Hanbyeol had bought yesterday. By now, hip exposure felt like standard coverage. After seeing all the female priests and nuns around here, it was obvious—bare hips were baseline. Outfits showing underboob or cleavage were everywhere.
I'd definitely played a 12+ game. How'd it turn 19+? A fleeting thought about the unfairness, then I decided to be grateful it wasn't an apocalypse story. At least I could heal and purify. Way better than radiation zombies.
This new priestess robe didn't even require untying the ropes binding my arms. I'd hoped to feel a bit of freedom while changing, so I asked suspiciously,
"Did Hanbyeol tell you not to untie me?"
"Quick on the uptake. She said we never know when you might self-harm. From what I've seen, Eve doesn't strike me as the depressive, self-destructive type. Have you? Probably to save someone, right? You're the kind who risks your life for others."
Half right, half wrong. Pressing the spear to my throat back then was because, in my clash with Iris, my body was the only bargaining chip I had. The version Laila knew was just "if I'm dying anyway, might as well save someone else."
I hesitated, and Laila stroked my back with intrigued curiosity.
"You're fascinating. A body so lewd it gets aroused and cums at the drop of a hat, yet you have this noble heart. The images don't mesh."
"Just help me dress."
"Blushing now? Adorable. Did I miss anything?"
"...Please dress me, Owner."
"That's better. Hehe."
Using her tail like a third hand, Laila effortlessly lifted me into the air. Unlike typical one-piece outfits pulled over the head, this priestess robe was designed to slip on from the legs—no need to thread arms through. Buttons served as shoulder straps, and the shoulder cape was secured by a choker-like ring around the neck. Like my old outfits, it was comfortable at least. Finally, she slowly rolled the new stockings up my legs.
"Eek, that's ticklish—why so slow?"
Laila deliberately dragged it out, letting my legs savor the fabric's texture. After last night's ordeal, my body only tingled in my chest—no soaking the panties. That'd require food first. My last meal was Hanbyeol's chicken skewer; my stomach was still empty.
"Hehe."
Ignoring my twitches, Laila finished both stockings, then casually cupped and stroked my ass. A strange tingle, but this touch lacked sexual intent—she addressed someone else.
"Hey, God. Instead of just panties, how about a garter belt? With this hip-baring priestess robe? Perfect match, right?"
"Talking to the holy relic? Ungh...?"
Absurd. I twisted my head to glare at her from my prone position, then felt something coiling around my waist. I flinched.
Laila grinned, stroking my thigh over the stocking.
"Your god finds me pretty and granted my wish. Called me a fashion expert."
"...?"
"You can't understand divine speech in a human body. But as his favorite, Eve, lean in and listen to the relic. Who knows what he'll say."
Skeptical, but priests hearing gods' voices or revelations cropped up in fantasy novels and religious texts. I lowered my gaze to the panty's side straps visible through the slit, and the robe's hem parted as the tail slithered up to my ear.
A sound came. Something moist and long squelching and writhing.
"...Sounds like rubbing flesh."
My most sanitized take. Chills prickled; I rubbed my bound arms to calm them. Long, wet things wriggling... evoked purging that evil-possessed tree. Tentacles bound and violated me then too. But plants were less viscerally gross.
Meat tendrils squirming? No thanks.
"Hehe. If you hear it, you might understand someday."
Me as tentacle bait? Terrifying. Was the god guarding my virginity just to claim it? The tail smacked my ass.
"Ahng!"
Like scolding irreverent thoughts. I chuckled. If so, it'd have torn in ages ago. The relic sometimes climaxed me at bad times, the tail disobeyed now and then, but my faith's god seemed fond of me overall.
Understanding his ways? Tough. As Laila said, humans are ants to gods—fed out of curiosity, pity, love, or whimsically crushed. Unknowable from the ant's view.
Some genre like that. Cosmic horror? Not my thing; details fuzzy.
"That little mage has an eye. Suits you."
Laila beamed proudly at my dressed form. Hanbyeol bought it, but the praise felt good. Was I allowed to accept it?
"Mm, a compliment?"
"If I say you're pretty, own it proudly."
"Thanks."
My custom tweaks getting props? Satisfying. My neck ached from prone position; I tried sitting up straight, but my back throbbed. As I squirmed, Laila helped flip me.
"Hm. Lying there so defenseless... makes me wanna pounce."
"Uh..."
Her playful grin made my heart race. Was I hoping she'd? Last night wrecked me, but it felt so good—my body remembered.
This setup felt like a couple's post-morning-after. Embarrassing. Hands bound, I averted my eyes, cheeks burning.
Women's bodies weak to mood? Spot on. I'd used Laila as a high-end toy, not from rational affection, yet my heart pounded wildly.
Laila slyly knelt on the bed, straddling my belly.
"Get off. You're heavy."
"Rude much? No 'Owner' either. Looks like you need more training..."
"Haaang, Owner, please get off!"
Her hand dove straight between my thighs; I begged, clamping my legs. But slim legs versus perfect hips? No contest against her grip.
"Mmm! Ungh!"
After yesterday, my body still squeezed out nonexistent stamina to leak fluids.
"N-no... Owner, I'm exhausted..."
"Good. On this bed, you're my slave, Eve. Got it?"
"Y-yes..."
"Hehe, perfect. That little mage had a message."
Laila withdrew from my lower half and sat beside me. The sudden loss left me panting, body aching for more, but I curled up, suppressing it.
"First, the men who rubbed their worthless dicks on you? All castrated. The female paladins who didn't join, and you call them users? Their testimonies helped weed them out."
"Mm."
Hanbyeol probably crushed them physically. Once a guy myself, I got the pain—not incomprehensible, just... pity. But they raped me, so deserved?
I wouldn't avenge myself, but being taken by men disgusted me. The culprit? This succubus right here. Still, she treated me well. Parole.
"And that tasty-looking guy said they've split into four branches: Hero Branch, Dungeon Conquest Branch, Raid Branch, Production Branch. Like an adventurer guild?"
"Aha..."
Couldn't find a way home solo, so trying classic fantasy return plots. Someone must've thought of it. Branches collaborate; one person hops between. Specialization for info sorting. Workers quest like the game; managers can't multitask.
"But 'tasty-looking guy'..."
"Can't survive on just your essence, Eve. You'd wither and die. Can't let my pretty long—er, pretty owner dry up."
"You mean... with other men?"
"Hehe, jealous?"
She tickled my belly with a finger. Gut clenching, I couldn't laugh freely, just groaned miserably.
"Ugh... Stop, Owner..."
"Adorable. But I gotta eat. Can't starve or drain you dry."
"Fine. You're a succubus, Owner. I get it."
My worry? If others could handle her. Jealousy? I didn't even like her that way. Pure mutual exploitation. Aligned interests kept us civil. She'd use me as front till strong enough; I'd... yeah, not gonna lie, living sex toy vibes. But she's a person—some freedom required.
"Mutual consent? Fuck other guys if you want, Owner. Your call."
"Thanks. But I need your help, Eve."
"Me? Uh... play matchmaker?"
She flashed her mana restraint bracelet. Arms bound, but not fully free.
"I'm bound to you—can't leave your side. You'll need to stay nearby while I eat."
"..."
Watch her roll with other guys? I glared; she patted me apologetically.
"Don't look at me like that. No choice. Humans watch others eat without issue, right? Might get hungry, but same thing."
"No, that's... Where's Hanbyeol now?"
"Buying food to feed you."
"Ask Hanbyeol then."
This crazy succubus trying to drown me in shame? Name-dropped Hanbyeol. But Laila teared up pitifully, pleading sincerity.
"Even so, you'd starve me. You took half my power—recovery's slow..."
"Fine, okay... We'll figure something out."
Staying here awhile—bring guys for her romps? No cleanup duty for me. Bad influence on Hanbyeol. Me tagging to her hookups? Weird.
"Wall between: you fuck the guy, I'm next room..."
"Can't separate from you. That's the constraint."
She knew magic better; if she said so, true. I sighed, scanning. Two rooms attached. Bed behind sofa—furniture lag or purpose-built? One for Hanbyeol, us in the other...
"Fine, unavoidable. Curtain up, I hide..."
"Or sleep through my sex."
"What if you do something to me!"
"Pfft, after that little mage castrated forty guys? Who'd touch you?"
Forty through my body. Depressing. But solution found...
"I'm back! Sis, you up?"
Perfect timing—Hanbyeol with bagged food. I relayed everything verbatim.
She glared murderously at Laila mid-tale, but softened at my finale.
"Anyway, no plans to hook up myself. Can't let Laila starve—best option."
"Yeah, if it doesn't involve you."
Her indifference when I wasn't central? Kinda guilty. Felt like I dragged her into my messes.