She arrived at her dorm without confronting anyone, which relieved her and reduced her anxiety. When she entered the dorm, a sweet smell filled the air, and the bedsheets were stiff and disheveled from prior use. The film used for indirect sexual intercourse lay on the floor beside her clothes, which were covered in a variety of fluids.

Can he clean up after he's done? Did he want me to become a maid as well? But…

It tastes good. His… She stopped. Did she? Did she just think that? It was delicious. There was no chance she would do that. She may have felt and enjoyed it momentarily, but she would never acknowledge it. Not when her mind was clear and she was alone, where his seduction nor her pleasure could cloud her judgment.

Did it not wear off? She hoped and believed so. If it wasn't, wouldn't her true self be enjoying it? Would she accept that as an answer to loving it? No, she wouldn't. The sparks she thought had disappeared reignited when she felt a faint itch from below. She ignored it and cleaned up.

When she finished cleaning, she went into the bathroom, her awkward gait not helping the growing itch and spark within her. Her nipples were erect, and her skin was sensitive and flushed. She felt wet down there. The feeling of desire had returned, even though Zain was no longer with her. Her body longed for his closeness and yearned for his touch.

She resisted the growing desire, entering the shower and turning on the water. Once the water touched her skin, it felt strange. She felt every drop hitting her, intensifying the sensation and arousing her further. The moisture in her groin had increased, seeping out and trickling down her leg.

I must endure. I can't allow myself to succumb to it. She endured for a few minutes. The urge to touch his penis returned. The sensation of fullness and warmth from his penis—she couldn't keep herself from imagining it. She wanted him inside her, but he was absent, and she couldn't keep it together any longer.

Leila did the next best thing.

She reached down and slid her index and middle fingers between the lips—her womanhood—finding the clitoris that had once sprouted when she was a man. She rubbed it, and her back arched in response. The spark within her exploded into a small flame. The sensation felt familiar yet foreign, lacking the fullness and warmth when he penetrated her.

Am I really doing this? Leila’s remaining sanity questioned. Fantasizing about Zain while pleasuring myself... Have I sunk this low?

Despite her questions, her hands and body refused to cooperate. She wanted to relish in the intense sensation she had gotten from Zain. Something stirred within her. She was unsure if it was her true self, her demon, or another entity; regardless, she desired it. Leila's thoughts continued to motivate her. They sounded like hers, but they were so different that she didn't recognize them as such. Her inner voice seemed to belong to another person.

Her mind drifted off, imagining Zain's penis inside her, replacing her fingers, and it worked. She came right after, spilling fluids all over the floor of the shower. Her moans mingled with the droplets of water hitting the walls and floor.

She cupped her breast, reminiscing about Zain's playful actions in bed, which escalated to pinching her nipple. "Oh, Zain!" She gasped, shivering, as sparks pulsed and grew. She pushed down on the threshold of her womanhood below and plunged her fingers inside.

Her eyes rolled back, her mouth opened wide, and she reached climax for the second time. She spasmed, and her abdomen tightened. A volcanic eruption hit her, impacting every part of her body. Her head also felt it.

"Zain!"

…

Leila sat against the shower wall, listening to the water hitting the walls, with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. The water soaked and cleansed her of the grime, washing it all down the drain. But she remained still, fixated on her hands, the ones responsible for the deed.

Her eyes, red and puffy, seemed to have held recent tears, now gone and washed away. Her brows were furrowed, and her mouth, which had remained half-open since the session had ended. Her heart felt carved and hollowed out. Her mind was numb and stagnant, unable to form coherent thoughts.

As she looked down from her hands, her gaze traveled over the rest of her body, where her breasts took up most of her field of vision. After residing in this body for two or three days, which felt like months to her, she saw the differences between her current and past body. She was shorter than him, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder comfortably, which made her despair.

Her height wasn't all. She believed her chest, hips, and waist matched Zain's preferences. The situation became more certain when he inserted his penis inside her. A perfect fit, neither too tight nor too loose. During sex, whether with Zain or alone, she became submissive to the pleasure within moments of the session starting. Her resistance and repulsion towards it vanished before she realized it.

Did this have something to do with being a Succubus? Did their bodies adapt to steal the hearts of their victims because they lived for this? Was she becoming like them? Was her fickle resistance and hold on to her lost manhood no more than a millimeter-thick string stretched taut, reaching its snapping point? A thread embodying her personality and remains of her former self.

She lifted her eyes from her body, afraid of growing too accustomed to its sight, and connected with it, feeling a rising sensation in her chest. She rose to her feet and started her shower, which she had put off for, who knows, how long.

After finishing, she dried herself off, wrapped a towel around her body, and left the bathroom. She grabbed a new set of her uniform from her wardrobe across the room, beside her lingerie. With the last decent pair of panties (if she could call them decent) used and washed, she was left with only lingerie for the next few days. She hesitantly grabbed them and put them on, finding it much easier than the first time. It felt natural, as if she had worn lingerie her entire life.

With the top on, she fastened the skirt, pulling at the hem, and left the dorm, feeling a newfound comfort in women's clothing that she had never felt before, a sensation that was missing before her self-indulgent session. She noticed the changes but didn't dwell on them for long, attributing them to her succubus nature.

Once again, the halls were deserted. There were no students or professors in sight, creating an eerie silence as she passed through the connecting hallways on her way to the next class. It was Combat Class, as she had skipped History and Potion-Making the other day. To her dismay, Leila and Zain shared those two classes, meaning they had every class together. It was for sure Zain's doing.

As soon as she reached the combat class, the students stopped sparring with their mana-protected steel weapons. All of them craned their necks and stared at her, taking in her entire body. Their gazes made her feel violated.

Why are they looking at me like that? I'm not that attractive. My charm should not attract others, especially women. It's only 4 points...

[Charm: 20]

What? How? She scanned the area and spotted Zain at the back, his white sword resting on his shoulder as he wiped his forehead. He smiled at her.

He knows!

She pulled her elbows in, hurried her legs across the uneven grass, and reached Zain, embracing him with a forced, deep, and affectionate kiss.

The command. He was serious. Departing from his lips, she stared at Zain and whispered into his ear. "What—?"

“You're late,” the Professor interrupted, striding over to them and expressing his dissatisfaction through his gait and facial expression. "Two days ago, you left class early, and you're a half an hour late. This can't continue to go on. I'll see you after class."

“Professor,” Zain said, tightening his embrace as if to protect Leila.

“Do you want to meet with me after class as well, Zain?”

"No," A faint pink light flickered in his eyes. “but aren't you overstepping your boundaries?"

The professor bowed his head. "I'm sorry, sir. I won't do it ever again." It seemed as if tears were about to sprout from his eyes, but he held them in.

"Don't repeat this behavior. Leave!"

“Thank you, sir,” the Professor said before running off, leaving them alone.

"What did you do?" Leila asked while attempting to remove Zain's arms from her hips. 

“Influence. I’ll teach you it later when your charm is higher.” Zain turned his attention to Leila.

"Let me go."