Taking a Brain Break Pt.2 (Patreon)
Content
([Here's a link to the first part], if you missed it, and [here is a link to the morphs] since Patreon was warning me the full image could be considered pornographic. Enjoy and let Bury-She [Patreon][dA] know you liked the morphs!)
3-
Jenna grumbles when you try to wake her and you don’t give it a second thought before zapping yourself strong enough to carry her and your bags through the front door. Placing her on the couch, it is apparent something is wrong. She is covered in sweat like she has a fever, her face and chest are flush. Not sure what else to do, you fetch her tablet and pull up Alter. Your half-forgotten misgivings resurface like zombies bursting from their graves. The saved ‘Jennifer’ backup had been corrupted. The restoration had stopped at 65%.
You agonize over whether to run her fail-safe program or waiting a bit longer to see what happens. Who knows? Computers get over glitches all the time, right? Minutes pass, but the only change is how fast she is breathing. You will have to do something and the sudden sense of responsibility actually makes you stagger back a step. You pace, rambling about your misgivings. Faced with deciding on your own who she will become, you find yourself hesitating. How will you face her after the program completes? What will your friends think? How will her family—or her investors—react to this?
Then again, Jennifer had trusted you with this. She had known there was a risk being under Alter’s effects for way longer than the “safe” duration. She had made a plan—this plan—should something go wrong. You had a role to play in that plan and she needed you to step up. Without another thought, you start the “upgrade” on Jenna. Your fingers tap accept on pop up after pop up until a black box appears and you watch as thousands of lines of text scroll past your eyes. The vertical cascade makes you dizzy, but you’re afraid to watch what is happening on the other side of the table.
You can hear though. In the otherwise silence, the hum of Alter changing and merging realities cannot be ignored. Mixed with it, you hear clothes which had barely fit Jenna starting to strain. Wait, Jennifer hadn't said anything about growing. Did you run the wrong program?
“Hun…” says a voice that blends Jennifer and Jenna. “I feel... funny.”
You hear her shift on the couch and you finally lower the table, only to gasp. The woman pushing herself up into a sitting position looks like nothing you’ve ever seen in real life. She looks like an absolute fantasy, a caricature almost—but Jennifer’s brighter eyes peer out from mascara-heavy eyelashes. Plumped-up lips aside, it's her smile and not Jenna's ultra-flirty one that greets your gaze.
What the hell are you supposed to do now?
"Fuck, this body is so hot," your fiancee groans, tugging at the already distressed collar of her tanktop. "I must've miscalculated the crossover effect--oh!" Her grip tightens as a moan escapes her throat and the shirt tears in half down the front just as another hum of growth reaches your ears.
You ask her what is happening and every time she starts to explain something you cannot understand, she is interrupted by another orgasmic-seeming sensation and another aspect of her grows. Finally, when she has burst out of her outfit and her butt has forced her off the couch, she snatches the tablet from you. She types furiously for a moment and then you feel the universe tilt as a hum envelops you.
"There, now the side effects of the quantum relation field should be resolved--Yes, that does seem to be the case."
She is speaking, but you also hear her in your head. It's as if your mind and hers are now linked. Whatever the case, her growth in relation to your ignorance tapers off as she explains how she has bent a dozen layers of reality into one confluence. Across dimensions, versions of her had eschewed their futures to make this outcome their reality.
"The biggest challenge, really, was coming up with a name for us," she adds to the end of her mind blowing explanation. As if the fact that she is now twelve copies of herself superimposed so that their potentials collapse into one body was the same as deciding to have a ham or a turkey hoagie. "Jenny seems like the best compromise. Now then, your super girlfriend is super horny. So I hope you can handle all of us..."
4-
Six months have passed since the vacation that changed everything. Foremost among that revision of the status quo is that Jenny can now freely manipulate her appearance —without using Alter at all—something she seems to revel in doing. She has only lost control a handful of times and always managed to stop before she outgrew the room.
On a more mundane note, her excitement about the malleable nature of her body is also making dress shopping a nightmare. She is never quite satisfied with her figure and has bought more than a few gowns. On the upside, you have gotten a "wedding night" with countless versions of your fiancee--and tonight was no different. Well, tonight was turning into something wild.
What had started as a strip tease to show off her new lingerie had turned into a whole production. Something about the head you gave her had been intense enough that she was now, blissfully, outgrowing the flirty number. This is different from the last time she lost control. It’s as if her body has glitched and is now stuck coming down from her orgasm. Which, of course, only makes her crave another one.
To that end, more and more of the bed is vanishing beneath her—and more of her is appearing all over the place. Everything that can curve seems to be doing its best to surpass human limits. Whether on purpose or by accident, she pins you down with her swelling ass and, for a moment, both of you moan in unison as she grows, and grows, and grows even more.
The bed groans as she shifts and you realize she is not just thicker all over, but actually bigger in general! You wonder if her height is past seven feet already. Either way, the real question was how much more was she going to grow this time? You glance over at her tablet and grin as you boot up Alter. A moment later, the answer ceases to matter. Whatever size she was going to reach, your twelve-foot ceilings are not going to be enough to contain her.