Reborn as a Succubus: Time To Live My Best Life!

As the king excused himself, leaving Melisa alone with the court sorceress, she couldn't shake the feeling that the next four weeks were going to be... intense, to say the least.

[Be charming,] Javir's voice echoed in her head like the words of a divine being. [Be yourself.]

Taking a deep breath, Melisa stepped further into the office.

"It's an honor to meet you, Lady Vortell," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "I..."

She'd been about to say, "I've heard a lot about you," but she hadn't, and so didn't want to be challenged on that.

Last thing she needed was the court sorceress to go, "oh yeah? name 5 of my accomplishments" and for Melisa to respond with deafening silence.

"I... have been looking forward to this for a while."

Zephyra circled around her desk, moving with a sort of natural, MILF-esque grace. She came to a stop in front of Melisa, close enough that Melisa could smell a faint, sweet scent she'd never smelled before, which she took to mean Zephyra was had some sort of foreign perfume on.

"Please," Zephyra said, her voice low and rich, "call me Zephyra. We're going to be spending a lot of time together, after all. We can do away with the formalities."

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Melisa nodded, her tail subconsciously curling around her own left leg out of nervousness.

"Of course... Zephyra."

As they stood there, sizing each other up, Melisa couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else going on beneath the surface.

Zephyra's eyes, while warm, held a hint of caution, as if she was trying to figure Melisa out.

[What's her deal?] Melisa wondered, fighting the urge to squirm under the sorceress's intense gaze. [Is she worried about me? Threatened by me? Or... something else?]

She thought back to the nobles at the gala, the way they'd looked at her with a mix of awe and fear.

Was Zephyra the same? Did she see Melisa as some kind of threat or an oddity to be studied?

[Fuck, I hope not,] Melisa thought, biting her lip. [I just want to learn from her, not be treated like some kind of freak.]

Aloud, she said:

"I'm really excited to work with you, Zephyra. Honestly, I've heard... well, I've heard you're an amazing sorceress. The best in the kingdom."

It was a bit of flattery, but Melisa figured a little of that couldn't hurt. Especially if it helped ease whatever tension was brewing between them.

Zephyra's lips twitched, as if fighting back a smile, as if the prideful part of her had momentarily forgotten this caution she had.

"I don't know about the best," she muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "But I do alright, I suppose."

Her eyes flicked over Melisa's form, taking in her simple outfit and nervous stance.

"I must say, I'm curious about you, Melisa Blackflame. A nim who can wield magic... it's unheard of. How did you come by this power?"

Melisa swallowed hard, her mind racing. She couldn't exactly tell the truth, as per usual, but she also didn't want to lie, not to the woman who would be teaching her for the next few weeks.@@novelbin@@

"I... I don't really know," she said finally, deciding on a half-truth. "I've always been able to do it, ever since I was a kid. It just came naturally to me."

Zephyra's eyebrows rose, a flicker of interest sparking in her gaze.

"Fascinating," she murmured, tapping a finger against her chin. "And have you had any formal training? Any teachers or mentors?"

Melisa shook her head.

"No, not really. I mean, Javir - Professor Folden - has been helping me since I came to the academy. But before that, it was just me, figuring things out on my own."

Zephyra nodded, as if this confirmed something she'd already suspected.

"I see. So you're largely self-taught. Impressive."

But there was something in her tone, a hint of reservation that made Melisa's stomach clench.

[She doesn't trust me, clearly,] Melisa realized, a sinking feeling settling in her gut. [She thinks I'm hiding something (which I am) or that I'm dangerous somehow.]

She wanted to protest, to assure Zephyra that she had nothing to hide, that all she wanted was to learn and grow as a mage. But before she could find the words, Zephyra let out a soft sigh.

"Well," she said, her voice brisk and businesslike. "I suppose the best way to assess your skills is to see them in action. Come, let's head outside. I want you to show me what you can do."

Melisa blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in topic.

But she nodded, falling into step behind Zephyra as the sorceress led the way out of the office.

As they walked, Melisa couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension.

She was beginning to get worried that Zephyra's curiosity would get in the way of Melisa receiving a proper tutoring.

[Guess I'll just have to prove myself,] she thought, squaring her shoulders as they stepped out into the bright sunlight of the palace courtyard. [Show her that I'm not a threat. That I'm here to learn, not cause trouble... If that's even something I can prove.]

---

{Armia}

Armia stood at the door of the Summer household, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

She glanced up at the sky, noting the position of the sun. Classes had ended a few hours ago. By now, Melisa would be at the palace, beginning her tutorship with the court sorceress.

[I wonder how she's doing,] Armia thought, a twinge of envy and concern mingling in her chest. [I hope that sorceress isn't too hard on her.]

But Armia had her own challenges to face today.

As part of their agreement to work on their class presentation together, she and Isabella had decided to alternate practice sessions at each other's homes. Today, Armia would be visiting Isabella's house, and tomorrow, Isabella would come to hers.

[Still can't believe my luck,] Armia grumbled silently, raising her hand to knock on the door. [Of all the people I could've been paired with, it had to be her.]

Isabella was very annoying. Quick-witted and undeniably beautiful, but annoying. Confident to the point of arrogance.

But, beyond that, there was something about Isabella that always seemed to put Armia on edge. A tension that simmered just beneath the surface of their most recent interactions.

[It's just because she's so damn confident,] Armia told herself. [She makes me feel like such a bumbling idiot sometimes.]

The door opened a moment later, and Armia found herself face to face not with Isabella, but with her mother, Kimiko.

The older kitsune looked just as stunning as she had the last time Armia had seen her, her long, silky hair cascading down her back and her eyes glinting with mischief.

And, of course, her rack was still amazing. Incredible and abundant. Her tits threatened to spill out from her white bathrobe.

"Armia, darling!" Kimiko exclaimed.

Looking down, Armia could just faintly see the silhouette of her cock, almost poking through the dress she wore.

[... Is it just me or is her size almost comparable to mine?]

Armia held back a smirk, though.

[... Almost.]

On that note, Armia acknowledged something then. Before, her cock size would have been something Armia hated about herself. Another reminder she wasn't the perfect lady she wished she was.

But, knowing how much Melisa liked it, specifically, how Melisa liked Armia putting it inside her, Armia had grown to tolerate her little soldier.

"Come in, come in! We've been expecting you."

She stepped back, allowing Armia to enter the house.

As she did so, Kimiko's gaze raked up and down Armia's body, taking in every inch of her muscular frame. Armia felt a blush rising to her cheeks, suddenly self-conscious about her appearance.

[Stop it,] she scolded herself, trying to ignore the way Kimiko's attention made her skin tingle. [She's just being friendly. It doesn't mean anything.]

"Isabella is just finishing up getting ready for your practice session," Kimiko said, closing the door behind them. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable in the living room while I go make some coffee for you two?"

Armia nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

As Kimiko sashayed away towards the kitchen, Armia couldn't help but stare at the sway of her hips, the way her tail swished back and forth like a mesmerizing pendulum. Her ass was just as tantalizing as her boobs.

[Fuck,] Armia thought, tearing her gaze away with effort. [What is wrong with me? She's Isabella's mother, for the gods' sake! Have some self-control, Army.]

She made her way into the living room, trying to distract herself by examining the various knick-knacks and paintings that decorated the space. But her mind kept drifting back to Kimiko, to the way she had looked at Armia with such blatant appreciation.

[It's just because I'm tall,] Armia reasoned, running a hand through her hair. [She's literally a head and a half shorter than me. She's probably just not used to seeing someone my size.]

But even as she thought it, Armia knew it was a flimsy excuse.

Soon, Armia and Kimiko settled onto the couch, coffee in hand, waiting for Isabella to finish getting ready. The older kitsune's proximity was doing things to Armia, her fluffy tail occasionally brushing against Armia's thigh.

"So, Armia," Kimiko purred, leaning closer, "I hear you've been making quite the impression at the academy. Isabella's told me all about your... exploits."

Armia gulped, her face heating up.

[Exploits? What the hell has Isabella been saying about me?]

"I, uh, I don't know what you mean," she stammered, trying to maintain a modicum of composure. "I've just been focusing on my studies, that's all."

Kimiko's grin turned sly, her hand coming to rest on Armia's knee.

"Is that so? Well, I'm sure you and Isabella will have plenty to... study... together this afternoon."

Before Armia could formulate a response, the sound of footsteps on the stairs caught their attention. Isabella descended, and Armia had to admit, the time she'd spent getting ready had paid off. The kitsune looked cute as hell, her hair falling down her back like a pink cape and her outfit - a brown vest, white shirt, and black pants - hugging her curves in all the right places.

[Damn... At least she cleans up nice,] Armia thought, trying not to stare too obviously.

But any appreciation for Isabella's appearance evaporated the moment she opened her mouth.

"About time you showed up, scales," she said, her voice dripping with its usual cockiness. "I was starting to think you'd chickened out, scared off by my mere aura."

["Scared off"? "Repelled" is more like it.]

Armia bristled, standing up from the couch with a huff.

"As if," she retorted, her competitive spirit flaring to life. "Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

Isabella smirked, leading the way out into the backyard.

Armia followed, determined to prove that she could hold her own against the infuriating kitsune.

As they took their positions facing each other, Isabella cocked her head to the side.

"You have the spellsign for your parry memorized, right?" she asked, her tone almost condescending.

Armia gritted her teeth, nodding curtly.

"Of course I do." She didn't. It would be more accurate to say it was bottled up in her memory rather than burned into it. "What kind of amateur do you take me for?"

Isabella's grin widened, and she shifted into a casting stance.

"Good. Then you should have no problem keeping up with this!"

Without warning, Isabella launched into a rapid-fire series of spells, the air around them crackling with magical energy. She muttered the incantations so quickly that to Armia's eyes, it just looked like Isabella's lips were trembling.

Armia yelped, scrambling to deflect the barrage with her own magic.

"What the hell, Isabella?" she shouted, barely managing to keep up with the onslaught. "Why are you trying to take me by surprise like this?"

Isabella laughed, the sound sending shivers down Armia's spine even as it pissed her off.

"Just wanted to make sure your reflexes are on point, Army," she teased, her fingers dancing through the air as she wove her spells. "Can't have you getting rusty on me, now can we?"

Armia snarled, redoubling her efforts to counter Isabella's attacks. She was so focused on the magic flying between them that she almost didn't notice when one of Isabella's spells slipped past her defenses, a gust of wind lifting her skirt and exposing her panties for a brief moment.

"EEK!"

To her credit, that may have been the most Armia had ever sounded like a proper lady, the way she shrieked.

Armia yanked her skirt back down, her face burning with embarrassment. She glared at Isabella.

"H-Hey!!! What the..."

The look on the kitsune's face made her pause.

For just a second, Isabella's cocky smirk was gone, replaced by something else entirely. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, and her lips parted slightly as if in surprise.

"..." Armia blinked.

The moment passed as quickly as it had come, Isabella's usual smug expression sliding back into place like a mask.

"What?" Isabella snapped, clearly uncomfortable under Armia's scrutiny. "It's your own fault for not wearing shorts under your skirt. What kind of warrior doesn't take basic precautions like that?"

Armia rolled her eyes, biting back a retort.

[Yes, it's my fault you used a Wind spell to pull my skirt up. Lovely.]

"Whatever," she muttered. "Let's just keep going. And try to keep your spells above the belt this time, okay?"

Isabella raised a brow.

"... No promises." She smirked.

Armia just rolled her eyes.