This Body's Fucked
The inn room was cramped and damp.
Cheap candle wax, musty dust, and the stale reek of bedsheets someone had lain in far too long — all of it hung thick in the air. On any other night, Leon would have collapsed without a single complaint. Tonight was different.
"...Hahh."
The instant she shut the door behind her, Leon sank straight to the floor. Then, soaked in sweat, she began peeling off her robe — slowly. It had never taken this long to get a robe off.
"What the hell is this..."
Every time the fabric slid over her shoulders, her swollen, braless breasts brushed against it and bounced, and a small gasp slipped out on its own.
"...Haa."
The room was quiet. The windowpane was clouded with dust, and beyond it the rumble of carriage wheels drifted in only now and then. Leon stripped the robe the rest of the way off and dropped onto the bed. Her breasts still swayed of their own accord — infuriatingly, distractingly so, to a mind already in chaos.
She turned her head, searching for a mirror. There she was, inside the cheap bronze looking-glass hung crudely on the wall.
Or rather — a woman she didn't know.
The black hair, the red eyes, the muscles she'd spent a lifetime honing, the harsh features carved even harsher by a face that had grown too severe — all of it was gone. Even the knife scars and burns scattered across her body had vanished without a trace.
"...Who the hell are you?"
On the other side of the glass: porcelain skin without a single blemish, a soft jawline and a slender throat, long pink hair that fell with the softness of a young girl's, and emerald eyes that blinked back at her. It was the complete opposite of the man who'd been built to disappear into the dark — a complexion so radiant it was as if someone had dared her to try hiding now.
Fine. She could concede the face. The real problem was the physique, which had changed beyond all recognition. Every time she lifted an arm, those heavy, yielding breasts swayed. A size that one hand couldn't even cover halfway. Spread her fingers as she might, there was no describing that volume as anything so modest as "a handful" — it sat there like the center of gravity of her entire body, demanding to be noticed.
Her waist was impossibly narrow. The abdomen that had once been carved into sculpted abs now flowed smooth and soft, drawing a deep, devastating curve. That line spilled naturally into her hips — a silhouette so exaggerated that even without anyone saying the word woman, something cruder would have leapt to mind. Female.
"...I'm losing my mind."
She stepped back to take in the whole body, and the legs were a problem too. She'd been a runner once, with a muscular lower body trained for power and speed. Now, even a slight parting of her legs made her inner thighs kiss, and below the knee everything was smooth and straight. The curve from thigh to calf, the silhouette that ran all the way to her ankles — the kind of legs that would make passing men whistle.
The ass that swelled round from her waist wasn't the product of training, either. It was just built that way, inherently sensual, soft enough that even a light movement looked like it would set it swaying. Not fighting muscle — a waist made for wrapping around, and an ass that was taut and full. Even the back above it flowed with an elegance she'd never possessed.
The woman in the mirror was, without question, stunning. But the cruelest part: when she furrowed her brow in that familiar scowl, the woman did the exact same thing. That was what pissed her off the most.
"Fuck. This isn't me."
She wanted to put her fist through the mirror, but the wrongness she felt inside her own body hit harder than the urge. It was noisy in there. Her heart was beating faster than usual, and her body heat spread warm and gentle downward, coiling, tingling, somewhere in her belly.
"This is bullshit."
Right. That was gone, too. And yet at the same time, she could feel it: the more she moved, the more she breathed, the more this circulating blood was starting to feel familiar. Her breasts were heavy and hypersensitive. Every movement made them sway, and from the inside they prickled, ticklish and sharp. She shoved the two massive tits aside and glanced down.
"...Shit. It's really gone."
Leon sat on the edge of the bed instead of in front of the mirror, draping the robe's hem over her knees, spreading her legs and then closing them again. She'd thought that once she acknowledged it, that would be the end of it. No — she'd thought it would be over. But then just the brush of her own skin made something inside her twitch. Was it an instinctive defensive reflex, or was it because this was a woman's body now?
"Fuck..."
She lay back against the bed. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes for a moment. Then she laid a hand on her chest and slowly swept it across.
The first sensation was: this is real. The skin, the texture — it was exactly like touching someone else's woman. Except this was hers? She slowly lowered her hand. She hadn't fully adapted yet, but she could tell this body was functioning just fine. If this were some kind of hallucination, it should have broken once she left a certain range. But looking at the magic circle that had activated as if it were locked onto her specifically, this wasn't that kind of spell.
"Goddammit."
She muttered it under her breath and turned her head. Down below, something was starting to respond. No — not a reaction she was consciously perceiving. The body was feeling it first. The voice that leaked out was thin and high. She tried to force it lower, but the default pitch had been raised. Even attempting to speak the way she used to, the resonance was weak, and the sound that mixed with her breath came out unnervingly sexy.
"...In twenty-eight years of living, I've never heard of anyone's gender just... changing."
In that moment, a heat began to rise slowly from below her navel. Leon drew her legs together without meaning to. The sensations were strangely, excessively delicate. She drew a deep breath. Her head had never been particularly well-organized, but right now it was running even more on instinct. Very slowly, she reached down.
"This is an experiment. Yeah. Just checking for magical aftereffects. This isn't masturbation. If it were masturbation, that'd be a little... yeah, no."
She repeated that to herself about three times before she brought her hand between her thighs. The instant her fingertips touched the soft flesh of her inner thigh, something like a faint current spread through her. A sensation she'd never felt once as a man. Her skin had never been this sensitive.
"...Ngh."
Past the space between her legs, her fingers slowly found the place between two soft thighs. The first time she'd touched this anatomy since the change. Unfamiliar — and yet strangely intimate. Her head didn't understand, but her body was already responding. Even a graze of her own hand made her lower belly throb. A stimulus far stronger than any comfort she'd ever given herself.
"Ah, shit..."
Her breathing grew rougher. It wasn't just her fingers — as her upper body sank lower, her ass rolled up of its own accord, and her legs spread on instinct.
"I didn't become a mage for this..."
The word "experiment" she'd been using as an excuse had already lost all meaning. When her fingers began to slowly trace along the cleft that yielded inward, a sensation spread through her that was nothing like touching the surface — nothing she'd anticipated at all. A thin gasp slipped from between her lips.
"Hnn...!"
The sound was so high and filthy that Leon herself flinched in shock. But once a moan had left her mouth, they came pouring out, helpless.
"Ha, hnn... fuck... what am I... what the hell am I doing right now...?"
She tried to close her legs, but her hand was already between them. Her fingers, as if they'd taken the body's side, slipped through the slick, wet cleft and were already probing inside.
"This is insane... ngh...!"
She'd barely started stirring inside her own pussy when her spine arched and sensation shot all the way to the crown of her head. She thrust her hips up, her body folding in on itself — and then a single rupture. Fast, but unmistakable. Her first climax.
"Ah, haa... hnn... what... was that just..."
Her legs were shaking. Her heart was hammering like mad, and her lips trembled. Leon herself could already tell the second one was coming right behind it.
"Nnh..."
Too fast. Her body was reacting on its own. With just her own hand — this much? When was the last time she'd been this afraid? She'd always treated thrills like bar snacks. And yet she didn't want to stop.
"Shit, this is..."
It was, without a doubt, pleasure.
"Hnn... ha, ah..."
A ragged breath burst out. She couldn't stop. The sensation she'd thought was over came rushing back, far too easily, far too fast. Breathing so hard her breasts bounced, trembling fingertips, thighs clenched tight. And gathering at that faintly parted place... an impossible wetness.
"Ah... I'm losing it..."
This is insane. This is just a magical transformation. A temporary change of form. Some kind of condition that would wear off soon. That's what she wanted to believe — but this body was far too much itself. Leon carefully brought her hand down again. Before she'd even started moving, she could already feel the trembling from inside.
"Ha, fuck..."
She'd barely drawn her legs together, barely brushed against her own flesh, and an insane jolt of pleasure whipped through her legs. She hurriedly parted the wetness and pushed in. The moment she started thrusting into the pussy she'd found again, working it as greedily as she wanted, the sensation spread from the outside in — and from the inside, out through her entire body. A circuit she'd never experienced in a man's body. A woman's sensations were different. The depth, the rhythm, and that vicious afterglow.
"Hnn... nnh, again—"
The wave just before climax came rolling in again.
"I'm gonna... haa... fuck, again...!"
Gripping her shaking thighs hard, Leon jerked. The instant before it burst, her pelvis rocked with it, wrapping around the feeling. She collapsed as if being chased, swallowing a scream.
"-----!!"
She opened her eyes. Gasping, she dragged her tongue across her slightly parted lips. Her mind was still refusing it, but her body was already learning a woman's sensations.
"Magic circuits, whatever... this body is completely fucking ruined."
She flopped back onto the bed, throwing herself down. The sensation lingering on her fingers. The warm heat spreading below. The swaying of her breasts. Everything was telling her the same thing.
Leon Belgard. You're fucked now.