Chapter 7: Growing Younger
Jima nearly jumped in fright. She quickly folded George’s spellcasting materials and stuffed them into her bosom, only to realize that the clothes the church had given her had no pockets. She decided to tuck them into the elastic band of her underwear.
She quickly arranged the bedding to create a scene and had barely finished when hurried footsteps approached. In an instant, George’s tall figure appeared at the door.
Jima squatted on the chair at the desk, panic-stricken, turning her head with a theology book in her hands. She smiled awkwardly and said, “Ah, you’re back so soon! I just came in.”
She felt anxious, hoping George would overlook her because of her “thirst for knowledge” and let her off the hook for a while.
George walked over with an expressionless face and casually closed the door.
Jima’s heart raced. At that moment, the hero seemed extremely dangerous in her eyes. She desperately tucked her tail under her cloak, fearing that if George acted impulsively, it would lead to irreparable mistakes and lifelong pain.
George approached the desk, snatched the theology book from Jima’s hands, and spoke wearily, “You’re holding it upside down.”
“Ahahaha, that explains why I couldn’t understand it,” Jima replied, removing the book.
“You understand Latin too?”
For the first time, Jima glanced at the book she had randomly picked from the shelf and realized she didn’t recognize the text at all.
“It’s just a random book; the cover looked nice.”
George raised his hand and knocked lightly on her head.
“Ow, that hurts!”
Jima covered her head, rubbing it, nearly tearing up from the pain.
“You can’t just sneak into someone’s private room,” George said.
“They brought me to this house and didn’t say I couldn’t enter this room. Plus, there’s no sign saying ‘No Entry for Jima’ at the door,” Jima argued defiantly, “Also, I came in with a key—how could you say I sneaked in?”
George sighed, and Jima couldn’t help but feel that for some reason, he seemed a bit weak and tired today.
“From now on, I am your guardian and life mentor,” George said. “You still have many basic moral concepts to learn. Ignorance is no excuse. In the future, you can’t enter someone else’s house without the owner’s permission or steal anything, understand?”
“I understand,” Jima quickly nodded, feeling that this idiot George was incredibly easy to mislead.
“Why did you enter my room?”
“I’m just curious.” Your kinks, what are they?
Jima honestly only said half of it.
“Alright, next time it won’t be so simple, Jima,” George declared, pulling two books from the shelf. “These two books are suitable for you now.”
Jima pretended to be interested as she glanced at the books—one was about various gods, and the other was about the God of Dawn.
“Mm.”
She held the books and was about to leave when suddenly, George called out to her, “Did you move my bed?”
“I rolled around on it for a while,” Jima turned her head slowly and said, “The stone bed in the cell is very hard.”
“Oh.”
Jima breathed a sigh of relief and turned back, a smile breaking on her face.
She was in the clear. Just by mentioning part of the truth, she could easily mislead the clueless George. He probably thought she had only rolled on his bed out of curiosity.
Jima walked towards the door with light steps.
Unfortunately, her skin was too smooth, and the elastic craftsmanship of that era was too poor. A few drawings caught in the elastic band at her waist fell to the ground with her lively steps.
Her heart tightened as she quickly turned back to stomp on them. The sound of her foot hitting the paper rang in her ears like thunder.
George crossed his arms, his eyes radiating a sacred authority.
Jima forced a pleasant smile, “Hehe, this… actually… you hear me out… uh, no, I mean—ah! I was wrong!”
George bent down, grabbing the slender ankle of the girl, interrupting her. He picked up the paper and unfolded it, revealing George’s own sketches meant as spellcasting materials.
“Hehe.”
Jima dared not look at George’s face, pretending to be a cute lady, clasping her hands behind her back, her flushed face turned to the side, her big eyes gazing off elsewhere.
Unfortunately, George showed no mercy. He grabbed Jima’s ear firmly.
“Ouch! That hurts! I was wrong, I was wrong.”
Jima was pushed down onto the bed, flailing her limbs in panic, wanting to escape.
George ordered, “Stay down.”
Due to the slave contract, Jima felt her limbs weaken instantly and lay flat on the bed. This posture made Jima, who was adept in various positions, unavoidably think of more than ten different intense intercourse techniques between men and women.
Jima did not doubt that George used her in place of the spellcasting materials. If she were a tail fetishist and also a guardian of a succubus, signing a slave contract was just too convenient.
In her current state, Jima couldn’t care less about the dignity of a demon lord; she was terrified, and the tip of her tail kept quivering.
The sacred judgment began.
“What are you doing looking for these things on my bed?”
“Curious.”
“Don’t be slippery. Why are you looking for my sketches?”
“Really just curious.”
As soon as her words fell, the hem of Jima’s robe was yanked up.
It was getting serious!
Jima was frightened and held tightly onto the sheets, her tail wildly thrashing as she cried out, “No!”
“Too late.”
George’s voice was chillingly cold, his hand raised high before landing a hard smack on Jima’s small backside.
“Smack!”
An incredibly crisp sound echoed, and her backside felt hot.
Although the situation wasn’t as dire as Jima, the experienced one, had anticipated, being punished like a child was enough to inflict a deep humiliation upon her demon lord dignity.
Jima’s eyes welled up with tears; she grit her teeth, holding back the tears. She secretly vowed to dismember George and roast him to feed the dogs one day.
“My dad used to say that if a child does wrong, they need to be disciplined.” George said. “Don’t be slippery, tell the truth.”
“Hmph!”
Jima huffed, neck stiffening defiantly.
I, the demon lord, have risen from a thousand cuts, am I afraid of a spanking?
George initially thought he had spanked too hard, thinking Jima wouldn’t withstand it. He delivered another smack.
“Smack!”
Jima’s tail twitched from the pain. Tears streamed down her face, and all thoughts of demon lord dignity and manly honor were cast aside.
It really hurt! After all, she was a delicate little girl.
“I admit it, I admit it.” Jima lowered her head. “I… I wanted to come in and understand…”
She paused, not just feeling anxious. She worried that if she confessed, George would smirk and take advantage of the situation.
“They weren’t wrong; the path to redemption is long,” George said, delivering another smack to Jima’s backside.
“It hurts! I was really wrong.”
Jima heard her voice cracking, her humiliating tears wetting the sheets. It wasn’t that she was afraid of pain; it was that her body feared pain. A dignified demon lord like herself, one day, would be spanked by an enemy to the point of tears.
“Will you admit it?”
“I, I want to know what your kinks are!”
After saying this, Jima buried her reddened face into the pillow, wishing she could disappear into a hole.
George was momentarily stunned. His first reaction was that a succubus truly lived up to its reputation; the first thing to do upon arriving in a new environment was this.
Then, he felt he was being overly harsh. Jima looked very shy, indicating she still had a basic sense of shame, and he was forcing her to say something so embarrassing out loud.
“Cough, cough, cough.”
George withdrew his hand.
Jima’s heart raced; she closed her eyes, holding onto the sheets so tightly that it started to hurt. She despised her own weakness, feeling like mere meat on the board, unable even to protect herself from being… disrupted by a man.
“Get up.”
The imagined disruption did not occur.
Jima sat up, covering her reddened backside, looking at George in confusion.
“I’m sorry, I was too harsh on you.”
Jima was even more confused. Could this be a unique feature of the paladin… foreplay?
“The nature of a succubus makes this kind of thing… quite normal.” George’s face turned somewhat red, “Yet I pressed you to admit it without hesitation, which you found very shameful, showing you have a basic sense of morality.”
“My educational approach was wrong; I shouldn’t educate you with human logic.”
Jima found it hard to understand. She thought the previous interaction was typical doujin development. If she were George, things would have escalated much earlier. So she attributed it to George having unspoken issues.
“It’s okay; I made mistakes too.”
Jima sighed with relief; as long as she wasn’t subjected to any disruptive methods, unlocking the extraordinary abilities of the succubus was all that mattered.
George noticed that Jima’s resilience was much thicker than it appeared.
“Your hand?”
It was only then that Jima noticed a drop of blood dripping from George’s finger to the ground.
She had hit his hand until it bled; could it be that the residual power of the demon lord had rebounded on him? Jima excitedly opened her “Personal Information” but found no sign of any extraordinary abilities.
George raised his hand and saw the wound on his palm had reopened. He said, “The tribunal requires me to demonstrate my determination to redeem you through this trial.”
Jima leaned forward to look at the wound on George’s palm. Although it had been treated with divine magic, it was only scabbed over. From experience, she could tell that the wound was deep and was likely no easy trial.
She felt a pang of emotion, but it didn’t last long. A wave of hunger washed over her, and the feeling of emptiness overtook the pain in her backside.
A bad thought crossed Jima’s mind: since she knew his kinks…
“I want to take a look.”
She cradled George’s large hand with her small hands, gazing at the wound in his palm.
Though it was her first attempt to seduce a man in the way of a succubus, Jima was not flustered. She had both the “succubus talent” and the experience of being served by many maids.
The only obstacle was that he was a man… and being full was a priority.
She pouted her little mouth and softly blew on the wound, saying, “Blow it away, make the pain disappear.”
George replied, “It’s useless; I’ve never heard of a succubus being able to heal with a blow.”
What a solidly stereotypical male.
Jima lowered her head, extending her soft pink tongue to lick George’s rough callouses and the split wound.
Soft and ticklish, George instantly withdrew his hand, keeping his composure as he said, “No need, it’ll heal itself by tomorrow.”
Yet Jima detected a faint hint of peach blossom fragrance emanating from him.
Quickly, she opened her “Personal System” and saw a prompt:
“DM: You have absorbed a trace of desire.”
Jima felt a surge of excitement, her face displaying an annoyed expression as she pouted, “Is it not over yet? I’ll try to see if I can heal you.”
Of course, it was all an act.
George sighed and reached out, but he saw Jima twirling her light golden tail.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah?” Jima feigned an innocent expression, “Trying to heal, don’t move your hand.”
