The Hero That Was Body Swapped With A Lewd Succubus!

After numerous failed attempts, she approached Freira. She had one thing that she hadn’t tried yet. It might wake her up and force Leila to explain a valid reason while hiding the real reason. Take a risk and find out, or don't. It was worth a try.

Freira's chest rose and fell in slow synchrony. Leila's leg brushed against the soft and warm cloud.

If I had that power. She could make a bed anywhere. No need to feast on men or hide her identity. Freedom in its fullest sense. Yeah, right? Freedom doesn’t suit me. As a hero. As I am now. Never.

With a wheezy breath, she placed her hand on Freira's shoulder. Her eyes twitched. She wriggled, bent her knee, and rolled onto her side. Leila sighed and searched. She followed the familiar process, and this time, something came out of nothing. A faint sparkle of lust motes danced.

The connection was too shallow. Sliding her arm up to her neck, she waited a few seconds. Freira must have been in a deep sleep to not wake up. In her neck, the motes were denser.

It was enough for her to control. Leila reached out and seized them. The action was instinctive. She pulled back her hand, and the motes followed. Freira trembled. Her breathing became loud and heavy. An arm whipped and slapped Leila's cheek.

Leila rubbed her cheek. Why did she react this way when she pulled it out? Lust was considered forbidden for devout humans. Why did it seem fundamental, even though it was forbidden? Was the Goddess wrong about her decree? No, can’t be. Should she return it? For some reason, she knew she should. Without it, Freira’s condition will worsen. She had no idea how she knew that.

Leila shoved them in, enduring another punch to the face. Her cheeks warmed, not hurt. Grabbing a hold of her arm, she gripped it tight. The less she struggles, the quicker it’ll be. 

When the motes she returned didn't fully settle her, she cycled her own motes into her, filling her until her trembling ceased. Freira's nipples hardened and became visible through her dress as her face and neck flushed a bright red.

"Oh, Leila..." Freira moaned, reaching for Leila's breast. Cupping them, she squeezed them. "Faster... like that!"

As wetness soaked Leila’s underwear, a throbbing spark burst into her crotch. Her nipples hardened and rubbed against her bra. She shifted her bra, but the discomfort remained. To delve into the depths of desire with Freira, disregarding her status as a former hero. Indulge. Let it have control. It told her. She stepped one foot in, moaned, and took two steps back.

With her heartbeat pounding in her ears, she withdrew her hand. Despite her arousal, hard nipples, sensitive skin, and a burning sensation in her abdomen, she managed to maintain self-control. The sexual thoughts resurfaced with a new approach, though. Could she at least do it for what she forced Freira into? Pushing her arm away was inconvenient. As long as Leila kept it to a minimum, it would be fine.

"I'm fine. Go—more.” Her hand brushed Leila's hip and skirt, lifting the hem to tickle her thigh, and... Leila snatched it and pulled it away, brushing against her panties. The flame burst.

Not happening. She concluded. The flame's size indicated it would take an hour to settle. If Freira were to ignite it again, it would take even longer.

Pulling Freira off the cloud, the air and water that formed it dispersed into pure mana. One less obstacle to deal with. She wrapped an arm around her neck and snatched her wrist, which creeped up. She didn't want Freira to continue groping her, but she needed her to be stable. And having her hand caress her was a better trade-off than her tripping.

“She said she wanted to help me.” Each time Freira groped her breast, the flame intensified. By the time she reached the dorm, placed Freida on her bed, and secured her wrists and ankles with fabric, her flame had doubled in size. Today was supposed to be her training day, not her gropey-grope day.

Exhausted, she slumped onto the end of her bed, sliding off. Sleep overtook her before she could lift the other half of her body onto the bed. Discomforted and aroused, she delved into a series of dreams.

Happy dreams were the ones she cherished. Ones without sex. One without the torment of demons. Though the combination of bodies—hers and Zain's—was nightmarish. Her white hair, with a few purple streaks, reached her mid-back. She had Zain's muscles and Leila's breasts squeezed into a tight, red dress. Her mana was pink-white.

She dreamt of it, whether she desired it or not. It showed she wasn’t fully a man. Her dreams about her man-woman form faded, replaced by a new one. A nightmare.

Under Zain, she lay naked, pinned to the clean-cut, cozy grass of the training ground. Her cheeks flushed. As sensual flames erupted in her crotch, her palms grew clammy. Students stood with their faces agape. Lust apparent. Their crotches… tasty. Oh, so tasty. She wanted their hard penises. All for herself. But first, she’d do Zain. He was her husband, so it was only right to suck him dry first. His rock-hard penis poked through his pants, pressing against her abdomen.

“You want it?” she asked, massaging his erection. His bulging penis pushed against the seams of his pants. He stared at her. Hesitant. Why was he hesitating? Could he be playing shy?

Cu—he's not cute. Leila's mind raced as she snapped out of a trance.

It was a dream, nothing more.

But she remained in the dream. Conscious of her actions. It was like the dream in which she met her shadow. Leila tried to drop her hand from his erect penis; it wouldn't budge. A cold rigidity had taken hold of her body. She applied more force, using all her strength as she shouted. Those shouts were never uttered. Her lips formed a sultry smile, and her eyes narrowed. She gazed at Zain as if he were prey.

Red flames burned inside him—tasty flames that formed a constellation of flames connecting every joint, all leading to his penis. She longed for the flames, licking her lips.

“Do. You?” She squeezed his penis, and he moaned.

He nodded.

When Leila tugged on his zipper, his penis sprung out, smacking her arm. Sticky, wet warmth—a sweet nectar wafted. He spilled and wasted semen in his pants.

“You need a cleaning before you can do the hammering.” She grabbed his throbbing shaft and pulled his penis close. He rose into a crawl, trailing behind her pull. A way to escape opened.

She could crawl out from under him. Cover herself and force Zain to alter the student's memories where they don't remember. Make sure he did, and live another day without a penis in her. But it didn’t happen. She wrapped her lips around the penis and ran her tongue along its tip, sucking the semen. As she slid his penis in further and whirled her tongue along his mildly veiny penis, she moaned. Halfway in, she moaned once more.

Stop!

His penis twitched, and a wave of fiery, hot wetness sprayed into the back of her throat. She swallowed it, and the flame constellation laced, unraveled, and disappeared before it reached her stomach, spreading throughout her. As her mana reserves increased by a tiny margin, her body grew lighter and stronger.

Zain's flame dimmed. She pulled out his penis and ran her tongue to collect every drop of semen.

“I’ll give you the reins.”

Zain grinned as he thrust his penis into the back of her throat and yanked it out. As rough as he should be. He thrust, and with every thrust, fiery wetness bloomed at the tip until it exploded. His flame constellation faded with each passing second, until a third remained. His flames were weak and shallow, but he pounded into her with equal force. Nothing was wrong with him.

He knelt between her legs, and she lifted them for him.

“On to the main course, already.”

The hunger for him was intense, as she had longed for this moment; her pussy was wet for his taking. It was time for him to deliver the rest of her meal. Zain positioned his penis with trembling hands. The moment he pressed the tip in, she moaned, her back arched, and she spasmed. Explosions reverberated throughout her body, from her stomach to her fingertips, up to her head, and then back down to her crotch. Up to her throat...

"Oh, yes.”

He pushed in and grunted, filling her up. The warmth and fullness that she had wanted to forget returned. He pulled back and rammed harder and faster, rocking and thrusting, while her moans sang the song and his grunts strung the beat.

A second, a third, a fourth—the fiftieth—she came. Each time he filled her, his fire dimmed while hers grew with a bursting fury. She lost focus as she drifted away, but returned when Zain toppled onto her, his penis finally contracting. She panted, drained of most, if not all, of her energy. As she inhaled, her chest heaved, exacerbated by Zain's heavy body. Why did penetration have to drain her? Isn't Succubus supposed to gain energy rather than lose it?

The comfy grass, students, and training ground vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar dorm room. Old male sweat and fresh, sweet semen tinged the air. She lay naked on a soft bed. Something from the dream lingered. A man with salt-and-pepper hair, his pants unzipped, sprawled over her like Zain had in the dream.

The man did not blink.

No effort to move.

His chest didn’t rise and fall. He made no effort to breathe.