Life in Another World with my Increasing Cup Size

Chapter One: Firestarter

"Hey....ou alright......?"

My head swam back into consciousness, feeling cool stone on my back. I blinked awake.

Gary was standing over me, shirtless. 

Wait, what? 

My eyes wandered downward, and...

"Aah!" I lept to my feet, "Gary what the hell??? Put some clothes on!"

"Ain't got any." they shrugged, "Besides, you're not wearing anything either."

Oh god that's why it was so cold in here.

"Aaagh!" I went to cover my body with my hands, except... This wasn't my body.

I spotted a barrel of water nearby and peered at my reflection. My face was essentially the same, as plain as can be, but my skin was a bright red, and not because I was blushing. My body was small and skinny, my chest completely flat. I looked at my hands and found claws that retracted when I relaxed it, and licking my teeth I found them to be sharp. My ears were pointed, and the whites of my eyes were pitch black, like Miss Boss' eyes. My hair was black and extremely short.

"What in the..."

"She said she'd give you her blessing." Gary remarked, "What else would expect from the Succubus Queen?"

"The what???"

We heard a sudden bang, as someone climbed down from a wooden hatch in the ceiling?

I looked around. The walls and floor were cobblestone, and the room was littered with random tools, barrels, crates, and a collection of wine casks. Ah. This is someone's-

"What ta hell are you d-" A large green woman bounded down the stairs, frying pan in hand. All of the anger on her face transformed to confusion as she realized that the intruders she was after were completely naked. For a moment we stared at each other.

"Yo." Said Gary, waving.

---

The woman was named Ingrid, and she was an orc. She was also a surprisingly hospitable woman. Gary, who was much more quick-witted than I initially thought, quickly defused the situation, throwing out a quick story about being robbed by a band of humans and seeking shelter from the snow. I made a mental note to ask him later about how he knew it was snowing when we'd been in the basement.

The moment she'd heard it all that anger melted into to sympathy, and suddenly we're being treated to slices of bread and lent thick, scratchy hand-me-down dresses since her daughter "ain't usein' 'em no more." It's probably a good thing I started feeling bad or else I would've complained how uncomfortable it is to sit on a hard wooden bench without underwear. Or how the dress fit very loosely, particularly in the front, a reminder of how what little cleavage I had in the past is now nonexistent. At least I don't have to worry about boob-sweat, I guess.

We were sat in a rustic kitchen, at a small wooden table, a loaf of rye bread placed in front of us. It was dense and hard and tasted incredibly bland, but it was food so y'know.

Not like I ate much better before all this, I thought to myself.

After seating us Ingrid went back down into the basement, leaving me and Gary in a moment of silence. As I eyed the campfire stove, the walls crammed with pots and pans and cured meats and herbs drying, the clumsy cobblestone walls and straw roofing above us, a thought crossed my mind.

What am I doing?

I turned the thought around in my head, but couldn't consider it in more depth. I simply had no answer. Instead I cast a glance toward Gary. They sat across from me, but their focus seemed fixed on what they were eating. Their face was scrunched up in thought, and they chewed slowly, staring at the slice of bread in their hand as though they were trying to figure it out. Come to think of it, I had no idea what exactly Gary was. They seemed to deal with guiding spirits like some sort of angel, or grim reaper, but my brain rejected both ideas on the spot. Those figures seemed too ethereal, too god-like to ever suit this person. To be fair, they certainly had good enough looks to qualify. Though they were tall and awkward, their face had a certain feminine beauty to it. And they certainly wore their beige work-dress pretty well. But personality wise...