Fuck, this place reeks. I swear I'll never get used to these damn smells of wet laundry, cheap lavender soap, and stinking sweat that feels like it's soaked into everything here, the whole castle included. And the worst part is that apparently I'm the only one bothered by it. Well, not only me, all these damn elves too, curse them, because this gifted sense of smell is supposed to be some blessing from the 'Queen of Servants', letting 'us' serve better, sense our masters' moods and all the other bullshit that makes me shudder harder than the smell itself.
I sharply exhaled through my nose, tightening my crossed arms under my breasts, which somehow felt even bigger because of it, heavy and firm against my forearms. The full curves immediately puffed up, I didn't even need to look down to notice, and the ruffled neckline pulled unpleasantly against my sensitive skin.
I hate this. And what the hell was I thinking when I asked the goddess for huge tits? Oh right. Probably with the thing I don't even have between my legs anymore.
Shit.
My ears twitched nervously, forcing me to tense my neck and shoulder muscles to stop them before Illiri, my laundry partner and eternal pain in the ass, noticed.
"Oh-ho-ho! Lariel! Thinking about men's 'equipment' again?!" her voice sang out at the exact worst moment, stretching every word enough to make my teeth clench.
I slowly turned my head, feeling my braid slide heavily across my shoulder while my tits swayed slightly with the movement, painfully tugging at the corset.
"Shut up, Illiri," I said, trying not to raise my voice. "Or I'll smack you."
She just giggled.
"Ooooh, someone's grumpy..." she replied, walking closer and shoving aside the sheets I'd just folded on the bench so she could sit down herself, then added more quietly, "Your ears are twitching though. So you really are thinking about it..." and almost in a whisper, "About Lord Thomas's son, huh?"
I rolled my eyes so hard I could feel the muscles in my face tense, forcing out a slow breath before I snapped at her harder, because on one hand she was completely fucking right, and on the other hand completely fucking wrong. In this stupid world the isekai goddess dumped me into, being an elf didn't just mean having the 'gift' of smelling moods through scent. No, there was a whole list of these lovely 'blessings', and one of them was ear twitching anytime thoughts about the opposite sex's genitals crossed your mind.
But how the hell was I supposed to explain to her that I was thinking about my own genitals, not that disgusting fat bastard who once a month with me... no. Nope. Didn't even want to think about that.
Unfortunately my ears betrayed me again, twitching once before I could stop them.
Illiri grinned triumphantly.
"Aaaah, caught you!" she whispered, leaning so close I could feel her breath against my cheek. "So it really is him..."
"Oh shut the hell up already!" I spun toward her sharply, my braid whipping across my shoulder while my breasts bounced heavily, painfully pulling against the corset fabric. "I wasn't even thinking about him!"
"Sure you weren't," she replied instantly, narrowing her eyes at me like always. "Then who were you thinking about?"
"No one! Just..." I stopped.
God, this was humiliating. But staying silent would've been worse. She would've started listing every lord who'd slept with me during the year I'd been trapped here, and then my ears would've danced for every single one of them, not because I liked them like everyone assumed, but because remembering it in detail was automatic and my ears didn't give a damn that the memories made me sick.
"Just?..?" Illiri kept pressing softly, with that same unsettling delight in her voice.
"Just... dicks," I muttered through clenched teeth, already feeling myself curl inward from how pathetic and horribly truthful it sounded at the same time.
Illiri froze for half a second. Then her eyes widened and she burst out laughing so loudly even the laundry baskets seemed to shake.
"Whoa-ho-ho, Lariel!" She slapped her knee, making her modest chest jiggle slightly beneath her dress. "You're straightforward today! Not Lord Thomas's son specifically, just dicks in general? Ha! Damn girl! So all of them at once, huh?"
For a second I shut my eyes, feeling anger and shame twist inside me, and also resentment because she laughed so easily, so freely, while for her this was just teasing and for me it absolutely wasn't funny. I thought I'd become some hot lesbian fantasy, but instead I turned into... whatever this was. A walking sex symbol made to serve everyone and everything, from cleaning floors to warming beds, though yes, with a lifespan dozens or hundreds of times longer than humans.
"Yeah, all of them," I finally muttered while standing up. "All of them. Imagine that. I have a vivid imagination. Unlike some people."
I straightened abruptly and immediately felt my heavy chest bounce downward and back up, stretching the corset tight as if reminding me of every damn decision I'd made in that shining, falsely pure white room with the goddess.
Illiri stayed seated on the bench, head tilted back to look at me with a wide smug grin. God, she loved messing with me.
"Wow, Lariel, you're on fire today!" she sang, clapping her hands. "A vivid imagination, huh? Then tell me more. What kind of dicks are you imagining today? Thick ones like the blacksmith's? Or long elegant ones like that elven envoy from last week?"
I felt my pointed ears twitch again.
Oh come the fuck on.
Why did she have to remind me of that too?
"Illiri, shut up already," I hissed, but my voice came out way too soft, almost whiny, like some spoiled girl caught doing something dirty, and it made me want to smash my forehead into the nearest stone wall.
Seriously. I used to be Andrew Smith, thirty-year-old office clerk from logistics, a guy who argued with suppliers, cursed in the smoking area, and drank instant coffee from vending machines. And now I was standing in a stinking laundry room with tits almost the size of two Illiri heads combined, blushing like a schoolgirl and trying to explain to another elf girl why I'd been thinking about my own damn cock.
Her hand grabbed mine before I could pull away, and it felt like an electric shock hit me.
"Ah!" I jerked back so sharply the basket of wet sheets beside me rocked dangerously while my breasts painfully bounced beneath the tight corset. "Don't touch me!"
Illiri blinked, clearly not expecting that reaction. Her thin brows lifted and her pointed ears twitched slightly.
"What's wrong with you now..?" she asked, less mockingly this time. "I just grabbed your hand."
I breathed heavily, still feeling unpleasant goosebumps racing over my skin.
That was another 'gift'. Though honestly it felt more like a personal curse. One of the nastiest ones if you asked me.
This body had literally been made for the opposite sex. Not figuratively. Literally. Any touch from a man felt too vivid, too warm, too... pleasurable.
Women's touch on the other hand caused almost physical discomfort, especially if the contact lasted more than a couple of seconds.
The goddess, damn her.
I slowly exhaled through my nose, still rubbing my palm like that could somehow erase the disgusting tingling sensation crawling under my skin. Illiri watched me without laughing this time, though there was something painfully obvious on her face now, a mix of hurt and concern.
"Lariel..." she began carefully. "You jumped away from me like I stabbed you."
"Because I don't like being touched."
"You're lying."
I shot her an irritated glare.
"What?"
"I've seen how much you 'don't like it' when you're around men..."
My jaw tightened instantly.
"You... you didn't see anything," I hissed through clenched teeth, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "And seriously, Illiri, drop it. I'm just in a bad mood."
She didn't drop it.
She moved a little closer again, though this time without touching me, tilting her head slightly to the side. Her dark eyes shimmered with curiosity and concern, and somehow that made everything even worse, because it had appeared so suddenly and I knew with absolute certainty that I did not want this conversation to continue.
"I really just don't understand you," she finally said. "We're both elf girls. Both from one of the respected Albana bloodlines, by the way. Serving and pleasing others is literally in our blood. Everyone, Lariel. Men. Women. Each other. Especially each other. Am I really that ugly?"
"What? No!" burst out of me way too quickly. "You're not ugly, Illiri. You're beautiful! Seriously! Very beautiful! And if I were a man, I'd give up everything just to be with you!"
Her eyes lit up with hope and Illiri instinctively leaned forward, but I immediately recoiled, pressing my back against the cold stone wall of the laundry room. The baskets of wet laundry creaked softly nearby while my heavy breasts shifted again inside the tight corset, nearly spilling from the deep ruffled neckline.
Please don't touch me. Please don't touch me.
"Lariel..." she whispered, and goosebumps immediately ran across my skin from her voice alone.
Illiri moved slightly closer again, but when she noticed me tense up once more, she stopped. She glanced toward the baskets of wet laundry and the hanging sheets around the room, as if checking whether anyone might overhear us, then lowered her voice to the faintest whisper.
"It can be done..."
Everything inside me tightened instantly.
"What?.."
Illiri nervously licked her lips, briefly lowering her gaze toward my cleavage where my chest rose and fell heavily with every breath.
"Well... becoming a man," she whispered, lifting her eyes back to mine. "If that's the problem."
I just stared at her blankly.
Was she serious? Was this some kind of joke? She could turn me into a man?
But... no. No way. I'd asked around before. There were no methods like that in this world. Especially not for elf women.
"Don't talk nonsense," I said firmly, pushing past her and grabbing another piece of laundry to work on, trying to sound annoyed and confident even though something unpleasant had already started twisting inside me. "If it were that easy to just 'turn a woman into a man', half the castle servants would've lined up already."
"I didn't say easy," she muttered quietly.
I snorted, grabbing a wet bedsheet from the basket and snapping it open hard in front of me. The damp fabric cracked through the air heavily, splashing me with the smell of soap and moisture. My breasts immediately swayed with the motion, painfully pulling the corset tighter beneath my ribs.
"Yeah, sure. What's next? You're gonna tell me there's some ancient wizard living beneath the castle handing out cocks to anyone who asks?"
"Lariel."
"What 'Lariel'?" I snapped irritably, folding the sheet too aggressively while my ears twitched again. "Do you even hear yourself right now?"
She stayed silent for several seconds, and somehow those seconds felt way too long.
Then she stood up, maybe about to say something, but at that exact moment the laundry room door creaked open and another servant girl walked in carrying an armful of freshly washed pillowcases.
"Ooooh girls! You won't believe what I just saw!" Mirael burst into the laundry room quickly, nearly dropping the pillowcases as she hurried toward us.
Her blonde hair was barely tucked beneath her headscarf, her cheeks were flushed red, and her pointed ears trembled excitedly. Even her scent right now reminded me of sparkling wine. Mine usually smelled like that whenever I saw Lord Edward shirtless after training in the courtyard.
She was definitely excited.
I glanced at Illiri. She immediately answered me silently with an expression that basically screamed, 'Fine, I won't say anything in front of this idiot, so let's pretend this conversation never happened, but I'll tell you later,' then instantly shifted her attention toward Mirael.
"And what happened this time, sweetheart? More gossip about the stablehand and the cook's daughters?"
"No!" Mirael practically bounced in place with excitement, clutching the pillowcases against her chest. "Worse! Or... better! Oh goddess, I still can't believe it!"
I rolled my eyes tiredly and started wringing out another wet sheet, feeling water drip down my fingers.
"If you tell me you saw someone's cock through their pants again, Mirael, I swear I'll drown you in the wash basin."
"Nooo!" she dragged out, her ears twitching nervously. "Lord Edward is looking for a new personal elf! And he's not going to the capital anymore!"
The second she said it, my breath caught.
My nipples hardened instantly, and a wave of heat rushed between my legs so suddenly and intensely I nearly dropped the wet sheet from my hands.
You have got to be kidding me.
No. No no no, not him.
My ears twitched so violently even a blind person probably would've noticed.
Mirael immediately squealed.
"A-A-AH! I knew it! I knew you liked Lord Edward!"
"Oh shut up!" I barked way too loudly before immediately turning away from both of them, physically feeling their stares and those stupid grins burning into my back.
"Bride and groom sitting in a treeeee!"
"MIRAEL!" I shouted so loudly even the hanging sheets swayed slightly on their ropes.
She only laughed harder, clutching the pillowcases against her chest.
"What?" she dragged out with a horribly smug smile. "I mean, maybe he'll pick me instead of you. I wouldn't mind. But honestly, I think for the next forty years you'll have the most enviable bed in the entire castle!"
She giggled again, completely oblivious to how her words made everything inside me twist painfully.
I clenched the wet sheet so tightly water streamed down my fingers onto the wooden laundry room floor.
Not Edward. God damn it. Anyone but him.
Out of every man in this cursed place, he was the absolute worst. Especially in bed. Because he didn't care what I felt, thought, or said. He just wanted a living sex toy, and what excited him most was the fact that I "pretended" not to enjoy it.
Except I genuinely didn't enjoy it.
But thanks to this cursed body, everything looked like I was absolutely crazy for him. Crazy for his "games". And the longer it continued, the harder I resisted this stupid "nature" forced onto me, the stronger the effect became whenever that bastard was near.
I exhaled sharply through my nose, trying to calm down, but it was like trying to put out a wildfire with a cup of water.
Because the second I heard Edward's name, my body immediately started reacting on its own.
I hated it.
Hated how my nipples painfully rubbed against the damp corset fabric right now.
Hated the warm ache already spreading between my legs.
Hated the fact that the moment I remembered his rough hands on my breasts, my ears twitched again.
Damn this world. This body. This goddess...