Becoming Monsters 2: Ch. 62 (Patreon)

Becoming Monsters Chapter 62: Strong Emotions

Because movies were her only experience with death, Honoka expected bagpipes at the funeral.

“Life does not begin when we are born, nor does it end when we die,” the Bishop said, standing next to the empty casket. “We miss Cleo Tate because she is not with us now, but we should rejoice that she is with her Heavenly Father today. We will meet again.”

The funeral was taking place outside of the dungeon, in the area once know as the Harvard Yard. After all the death of the Change, it became the Harvard Memorial Cemetery and an empty casket service was common here. Rows of headstones lined the open grass around a large obelisk of wrought iron, a large bronze plaque listing the names of those who died five years ago. The New England weather was being its normal miserable self, gray clouds crowding the sky with a few sporadic splatterings of rain every hour or so. Not enough to call for umbrellas, just enough to get a person wet before letting up and doing nothing more than making everyone miserable.

Looking around, Honoka saw less than fifty people at the grave site, most of them the grieving members of Carnival. Others included some other delvers Honoka recognized - Johnny actually managed to fit into a suit that covered his sixty-feet of purple skin, the giant sitting Indian style to one side - but the rest of the crowd Honoka couldn’t recognize. And while many of them had bowed heads and solemn faces, from what Honoka had heard, the service yesterday for Armond had been where the emotions were let out.

“I didn’t know Cleo was LDS,” Padmava whispered to Honoka, her size forcing the attending wives to be in the back of the crowd. With her tail the only significant size change, Padmava was able to wear a black sari from her old collection, though it looked tight in the chest.

“I didn’t think to ask,” Honoka replied, her voice toneless as she realized with regret she didn’t know much of anything about the woman Honoka was only now discovering she both respected and looked up to. “It didn’t seem…I didn’t ask.”

It was noon, Thursday, on September eleventh. Three days since Honoka found out Cleo Tate had died and the whole world flipped upside down. The moment Honoka stepped off the elevator after her breakfast at Tantilize, alarms sounded and the entire place went into some kind of lockdown. Army troops armed to the teeth flooded the area as Honoka and everyone else was forcefully escorted out. Before Honoka could make it back home she even caught sight of the celebrity strike force known as ARCON marching through the streets towards the elevators, Golden Girl riding on top of a freakin’ three headed dragon. A loud PA system announced to the people living in Harvardtown that martial law had begun and that people should prepare for a possible full evacuation in the near future.

It was only by chance that Honoka learned what was going on when Rosalia stopped by the store that evening and explained everything while she restocked on potions. The two women shared hugs and tears, though Honoka found herself in a strange state of shock more than anything. On one hand, Honoka knew she would miss Cleo, but on the other, what was her family supposed to do if they needed to leave the dungeon?

That night the Jefferson family - including many of the visiting families - gathered to discuss options. Surprisingly, after Douglass quietly went down into the gym and came back with a shotgun, loudly chambering a shell, many decided to stay as long as they were able. Protocols were put into place, the family’s armory now standing empty as most of the guests made sure they were armed at all times. Nobody went anywhere alone and any gathering of children was monitored with multiple guardians standing watch.

The next day was a tense game of waiting. Honoka found that with nothing to do, she was being driven insane as her emotional problems continued to escalate. After a heated argument over some broccoli with Quinn which resulted in a broken table and a hole in a wall, Honoka accepted the necessity of controlling herself before she did something even more unforgivable. Banda actually knew the most about emotional issues, so Honoka swallowed her pride and began a long day of meditation to bring herself to a semblance of control.

It worked, but not completely.

The state of alarm put a new urgency on the wives to harmonize, something Honoka became conflicted about. While trying to regain control of her emotional outbursts, Honoka was also required to pleasure and be pleasured by her harem. It lead to some interesting situations, such as Honoka crying while ejaculating into Gweneth or screaming incoherently at Eve while the hobgoblin ejaculated into her. Levels went up, though there remained one wife completely cut off.

As part of her new meditative routine, Honoka listed all the members of her family and how thankful she was for them. Honoka put her hand in her pocket and fingered the funny little card a Justice gave her as a joke, now with two more stamps on it. Abra and Gwyneth were now a part of her family, officially as of this morning, having gone home already to relieve babysitters. If Honoka married another five wives, she wouldn’t have to pay the licensing fee for the tenth. It was a funny piece of paper and Honoka laughed it off at the time. Glancing up at Miaka sitting on the opposite end of the line of wives here, right now it felt like a burden.

“You need to apologize,” Eve said quietly, her metallic voice sounding like grating gears in a whisper as wisps of eldritch smoke gently blew into Honoka’s face. Eve had on a gothic black dress that was too short, making the jumper look like a blouse, adding only a pair of black bike shorts to keep it modest.

Honoka’s eyes hardened as she looked away, using some of the new meditation techniques to keep her temper under wraps. “I wasn’t the one who screwed up.”

“Doesn’t matter, you’re the one screwing it up now.” Eve wasn’t used to these kind of talks, running her hand through her loose hair, her claws gouging a little deep and getting lines of blue gob blood welling on her scalp. “Crap. Anyway, look at her, there isn’t anyone who looks more in the dumps in the existence of ever. She’s sorry. Now fix it.”

Honoka looked back and pursed her lips. Miaka, sitting next to Diane and dressed in a bad combination of a white small yukata and a large blue blouse, looked defeated. Even the burning of her feathers had grown dim, making her look kind of drab in the overcast atmosphere. Her entire body was slumped, her eyes still puffy from a recent fit of crying, patches of feathers molting off her skin giving her a dirty, patchwork appearance. It didn’t look as if the woman had done any bathing or grooming in days and honestly, the half-japanese woman had avoided her fellow Nihonjin entirely since the incident. If Honoka didn’t know any better, she would say Miaka had aged twenty years, her body hunched and limp. And although Miaka was faced away, the constant flicker of her eyes in Honoka’s direction made it clear she wanted nothing more than to fall at Honoka’s feet and beg. It should have been heartbreaking.

“I’ll think about it,” Honoka replied, though the steel in her voice made it clear where she stood.

The service ended soon after. While many of the wives hung back, Honoka and Dolly came forward and talked briefly with Jake and Rosalia. Dolly had on a black skirt that could double as a table cloth over her cat body, a simple blouse up top she was borrowing from someone with a much larger frame, it looked too loose. Honoka thought her own outfit looked absolutely disrespectful wearing only a blouse and skirt, neither fitting very well and neither black, but as she explained, it was all she had. Rosalia waved it off, making a joke about how Cleo would have just wanted everyone to have a barbecue party with cake and ice cream at her funeral. Dolly got more emotional, apparently having spent a lot of time with Carnival these last few weeks and bodily picked up a very surprised Jake as she bawled into his shoulder. To Jake’s credit, he rolled with it, sharing a few tears of his own as Dolly let it all out.

“I know it probably isn’t the place for this, but you and the rest of Carnival are invited to the wedding next week.” Honoka didn’t want to be politique over this, but it wasn’t like they were making invitations for the event. “My very wealthy grandmother is funding it, so at least the food will be good. Something to help take your minds off things.”

“Thanks, Dolly and Quinn already invited us,” Rosalia replied, brushing some loose hair out of her eyes. “We’ll be there, might even have an announcement of our own.”

Honoka looked at her looking at Jake, then smiled when she got it. Remembering that time only a month ago when the burly Casanova hit on her at a bus stop, it made the whole thing seem kind of cute.

However, noticing a limo and two women standing just beyond the crowd, Honoka huffed out a sigh and seriously wondered if allocating Padmava’s magical invisibility would be rude or not.

Rosalia had great instincts and looked over to the limo, picking up on the situation quickly. “Is there going to be trouble? I didn’t know Chastity held a grudge for killing her boss.”

“It’s not revenge, it’s business,” Honoka replied, looking over towards Diane and getting the succubus’ attention on Chastity and Winifred. “Sorry to be abrupt, but I have to take care of this or else Little Miss Succuslut might start working the crowd.”

“She’d be dead before she hit the ground,” Rosalia replied cheerfully, keeping a hard gaze on the limoed pair. “We’ll be at the wedding.”

“Thanks,” Honoka said, reaching down for a quick hug before turning to Dolly. “Let everyone know I’ll be back after handling this.”

“Ya sure ya don’t want backup?” Dolly said quietly, her hand casually on her back where Honoka knew she kept a couple of darts her Class could power up, hidden by the looseness of the blouse. Her accent was also on full display and let Honoka know how on edge the young girl was despite looking like seventeen hundred pounds of deadly hunter.

“Diane will be with me, nothing we can’t handle.” Maybe Honoka would have sounded more convincing if she could, but something about Chastity unnerved her. Stiffening her shoulders, she gently wobbled through the crowd towards the limo.

It didn’t take three seconds for the situation to get out of control.

“Someone’s been eating her Wheaties,” Chastity said, moving forward to give Honoka an intimate hug, taking opportunity to pinch Honoka’s newly inflated glutes and making sure to rub her face into Honoka’s cleavage before breaking away. The fabric of Chastity’s oddly out of character black pants suit was made of material thin and tight enough to make it clear she wasn’t wearing anything else underneath. “Oh my, I am downright wet to see what else has gotten bigger!”

Honoka was still recovering from walking over, her new height still a bit unfamiliar to her and walking had been proving difficult this whole week. When Chastity got all grabby-feely, Honoka froze up from the harassment and retreated to her default deer in the headlights.

Diane would have none of it.

*KA-KRNCH!!*

Diane was never some wilting violet. Even before meeting Honoka, she was an energetic teenager whose aerobic exercise regimen was…enthusiastic. In the last month, harmonization aside, the woman had become driven to transform into Honoka’s perfect woman. Diane didn’t just spend a couple of minutes on a stairstepper every morning, the succubus pumped hard iron two to three hours a day and lived almost completely on a diet of protein shakes, magical jizz and alchemical potions that acted like gamma infused super soldier serums. She followed that workout with a round of practical combat practice with Miaka and the other wives. And then when all the extra points of eighteen levels of Harmony landed on top of the succubus, she had gained half a foot, a hundred pounds and a straight up eleven points of Strength.

So when Diane slugged Chastity in the jaw, it wasn’t some girly love tap. The Fightin’ Ginger used her whole body in a textbook perfect right cross, looking for all the world like Wolfe putting Ward on the mat. And with Status replacing a person’s strength with Strength, it wasn’t a fist so much as a sledgehammer that hit the unprepared Chastity. The greater succubus’ jaw shattered, her head spun her body into a triple axel and she landed in the wet grass a full ten feet away.

“Son of a hamster!” Diane cried, holding her hand out as she twitched and gasped in pain. “I think I broke it.”

Honoka quickly walked over and helped plop a free boob that slipped out of her black tube dress back in, the latexy fabric straining at the seams to hold all the curves inside while Diane gulped a healing potion. And while Honoka regularly saw Diane naked from all angles, it was only now that the newly minted giantess had a moment to appreciate just how ripped the succubus had become. The succubus Race naturally softened any hard lines, and it was difficult to see past all the tits and booty Diane had put on, but still, Diane had gone from a girl who looked like she jogged into the hentai slut sister of professional bodybuilder Rene Cambell who stuffed two large watermelons in her shirt and a blue ribbon pumpkin in the trunk.

“Hey, sexy, when did you get all Mistress Of The Universe on me?” Honoka said with a smirk, taking the chance to cop a feel on her upper arms as she leaned down a bit to place her face intimately close.

The brightness from Diane’s returning smile could light up Times Square on New Years. “You like?” She said with an innocent tone, even as she ignored her broken hand and popped her bicep, the muscle group doing an amazing job imitating a sixteen inch Rock Of Gibraltar. She couldn’t hide the wince as he finger bones crackled, but she reached her other hand tightly around Honoka’s waist. “Do it, bend me over and take me, right now! Show me who has the power!”

For a tense half a minute, Honoka almost did. Only when she glanced up and noticed a silent and captivated audience did she gulp and break free, slowly pushing Diane away with shuddering arms.

“You can do it!” Eve shouted in Schnider, getting a few of the wives and delvers to chuckle, Johnny’s loud basso making the ground shake.

“Ouu ishhh!”

Looking back around, the wives saw as Chastity clawed herself upright, blue lightning discharging from her skin as her purple leather wings bloomed into white feathers and a translucent set of armor appeared over her conservative business suit. Instead of a sex demon, now she looked like an avenging Nordic angel, the bones of her jaw realigning as she quickly healed back up.

“Chas.”

Out of the women gathered away from the crowd, it was easy to forget the quiet and unassuming Fred dressed in a much more conservative but still classy dress suit in black with a pastel violet blouse. Her hand reaching out to gently hold Chastity’s arm, the small woman’s voice managed to pierce through all the Class fireworks and penetrate past the anger, causing the greater succubus to hesitate.

“Forgive my sister, she has boundary issues,” Fred said flatly, looking as if she were stamping down hard on any emotional response.

For the briefest moment, Chastity’s face changed into something Honoka couldn’t read as she looked down at her sister. “I might be willing to admit I deserved that,” Chastity said slowly, powering down her Class and fixing her clothing back into place while spitting out a huge globular of blood. “Can we get in the limo so we can finish this?”

“No,” Honoka replied, giving Chastity a steely eye. “We haven’t agreed to anything, I’m not going to screw every girl with a pretty face just because they asked nicely.” Honoka fixed her own inadequate clothing and emphatically ignored her own blatant erection. “My family is not a club membership: you don’t get in just because you fill out the proper forms and pay a fee.”

The women faced off, Diane sidling up to Honoka as she held her hand with the other, looking for all the world as if she was willing to see what else of Chastity was breakable. It was Fred that appeared to be caught in the middle, her head turning between her sister and Honoka with a look of being torn apart creeping onto her face.

“Please,” Winifred said, her eyes changing to a blue that eerily matched Honoka’s eyes, her arms wrapping around her shoulders as her clothing strained from a subtle growth underneath and the crystal poking through her hair swirling with brighter lights. “I know I’m not what you want, and I know I come with baggage. You have everything I could ever want and in another life I would be happy for you.” A few seams popped in her left shoulder as her arm grew larger than her right, muscles and a new jutting crystal piercing through her coat with a bright myriad of lights shinning all throughout underneath her clothing. “But I can’t be happy, or sad, or angry or anything else other than dead. When I lose control, people get hurt and I’m tired of fighting myself.”

Honoka knew the finality of Winifred’s voice, it was a tone she had spoken before in the past. It was so easy to forget that only a month ago Honoka had lived the same life as Fred. It was both sobering and terrifying that but for one chance encounter with a succubus on a bus, Honoka would probably be dead herself.

Dr. A Kong, one of the leading experts on the Change and known the world over for his tutorial videos on how to use and navigate the Status, once sat down in a widely viewed interview and talked about his own Racial Change into a gnome and the suicide of his wife. The statistics were astounding and frightening as he pointed towards all the data of the day that Changed the world. While death and destruction followed in the wake of a new normal thrust upon humanity, the simple fact was the single largest contribution to death in the world became suicide as people who became something alien decided oblivion was the answer.

In a single day, half a billion people chose to end their own lives. Honoka almost became one of them and it was clear Winifred almost became another.

Diane, understanding her wife, put a hand on Honoka’s shoulder and flapped her wings to give her the height to hover and give Honoka a quick kiss on the cheek. “Life doesn’t end at marriage: it begins. Whatever you decide, I’ll back, but let me start texting the other wives to get a full quorum.”

Looking at the limo and realizing Norwood was half an hour away, Honoka nodded, motioning silently with some reluctance that they would all get in the vehicle. One way or another, this was going to end at the brothel formerly known as Solomon’s.

****************************************

“I have so many questions,” Honoka said, nearly seven feet tall now and feeling rather tiny.

The warehouse known today as Healthy Priorities took up four city blocks. It was ten stories tall, had five basement levels underneath in an actual catacomb of rooms and maze-like hallways and not only acted as a workplace for the sexually inclined Races but also housed many of them in their own little community. Built like a rectangle so only some of the front is shown in profile, the place looks deceptively compact from the street, but a GPS map shows the entire place could double as a government building hiding an ark somewhere inside. Mostly, the openness was suppressed by dividing each part into its own section that catered to some particular need or fetish. However, the back section was dedicated to one of the most particularly infamous draws of the Boston Metro night life.

Honoka felt like she was six inches tall, because the entire room was a normal looking apartment for someone a hundred feet tall. They had to go down to the lowest subbasement to reach the floor level of the 200 foot tall room, large tiles the size of football fields looking like massive granite sections leading to a desk with a computer the size of a building next to a bed as big as Boston Harbor. The scaling was impossible because structurally most of these materials would collapse under their own weight, but Honoka had spent enough time getting resized to know Status shenanigans were at play here.

“This is where Elegance lives,” Diane announced without fanfare, social media browsing on her phone without glancing up. “Star of the wildly successful film franchises Attack On Titaness and She-zilla, her day job consists of making giantess themed streaming videos and charging exorbitant amounts of money for private sessions. Never spent much time with her, succubi need the personal touch and camgirling never interested me. Only recently have I gotten into GTS.”

“I asked Beth - Elegance’s real name - to take the day off and spend some time with her boyfriend at the beach today,” Chastity said, casually unbuttoning her shirt and languidly stretching her arms and wings. “I’m sure every paparazzi is breaking out their widest lens and having a field day. We have a couple of hours before she gets back.”

“Hmm,” Honoka hurrumphed as they all crammed into the elevator next to the bed, Honoka forgetting to duck her head and hitting the top of the frame painfully.

The drive over to Healthy Priorities hadn’t solved or decided much in what was going to happen here. The wives were all on board, though Dolly texted some concerns over whether this was some kind of ploy of Chastity to control the family. Honoka silently agreed, it not helping when the brothel madame pulled out a signed marriage certificate (only needing Honoka’s signature to make it official) and even the little stamp the Justice had used earlier that morning on Honoka’s card. That had nearly caused Diane to punch the succubus again and for ten minutes everyone stewed in silence while they thought about what to do or say.

So here they were, going through the motions and probably minutes away from having to do or die, nobody sure what was going to happen.

*ding*

Until that moment, the doors opening to what looked like miles of azure comforter stretching before her, Honoka had never expected to find herself atop the largest bed imaginable. She didn’t feel like a toy, she felt like an insect, and with pillows nearby larger than houses Honoka was starting to feel agoraphobic. Stepping out of the elevator with a sigh and a ducked head, Honoka’s instincts reminded her why she was here as the tiny platform they were on had a table with bottled water, some snacks and two familiar potions. At least, they tried to tell her something as it got harder and harder to think.

“I love this bed, feels wonderful on my toes,” Chastity said, stepping onto the plush fabric, her clawed gargoyle feet sinking in but no more than someone would expect to sink into a normal sized bed. She also took off her jacket and finished unbuttoning her blouse, revealing a lot of cleavage without going all the way yet. “So, are you ready to bone my sister? Because if you aren’t, I’m more than willing to see if you live up to all the hype.”

“Not only is that a no way in heck, it will probably be a I’d rather screw a garbage disposal.” As the greater succubus stepped closer, Honoka put out her hand and stopped her cold. “Even if I didn’t know about your past I’d still say no. I’m still not a hundred percent on whether I want to move forward with Winifred. So get your metaphysical fingers off my emotions and back off!”

Chastity only smiled wider, her shark teeth on full display as Diane came around with a full throated growl and looking like she was about to see how far she could kick the greater succubus as Winifred tried to hurry and get between everyone and keep this from exploding. Honoka mentally knew all this was happening, but the haze over her thoughts was making it hard to think and her skin broke out into a hard sweat. Her heartbeat was so loud and all the blood in her body felt like it was leaving her brain and filling her cock. However, whatever Chastity was doing must have been ten times as strong on the other two women because they both rolled their eyes up and flopped to the ground in twitching heaps.

“I don’t like being told what to do,” Chastity said softly, her extra long tongue snaking downward to lick Honoka’s hand as she leaned forward, letting Honoka’s hand get pillowed between her breasts. “You are too much of an asset to let just anyone have you. I thought if Fred got in I could worm my way to you eventually, but that doesn’t appear to be in the cards anymore. Oh well, in a few minutes you’re going to be mine anyway, might as well stop fighting and enjoy it.”

Honoka couldn’t move, her entire body held in place as she gulped in air and tried to do anything. Her thoughts had become her typical mindnumbing dual lust that attacked from both her sexes, only cranked up so high she couldn’t access higher brain functions. The need to orgasm was so great the hermaphrodite forgot who this person was standing in front of her, only knowing that this was a woman and women had holes that should be filled. One hand was already between hot breasts, feeling the sharp rise and fall of anticipating breaths, the other came around and was stretching out to tear through the rest of the clothing…

*gong*

♫ 舞い上がれ！朱雀 ミラクル・ラー ♫

From inside Honoka’s skirt, her phone rang. Normally, Honoka kept her phone on silent, a nervous habit from when ringtones were outlawed while she worked at her old job, BAS. She must have flipped it back on by accident, because in the otherwise silent room, it was a THX soundtest. The ringtone was jarring, starting with a combination guitar and gong sound, the theme of one of her favorite anime playing.

Chastity froze up, her smile faltering as the ringtone continued to play. Maybe her Race Feature required concentration or maybe it was just so unexpected, but Honoka felt the grip slipping.

♫ いとおしい人のために ♫

♫ 今何が出来るかな？ ♫

♫ 叶わない夢はないよ！ ♫

♫ まっすぐに 信じてる ♫

The anime was Fushigi Yuugi, about a girl thrust in ancient China who had to gather her harem so she could make a wish from a god. Honoka had switched her ringtone when she realized how ironic it was that Miaka - the name of the main character - Watase - sharing the same last name as the author of the series - had turned into a phoenix - the Chinese god the main character is trying to make a wish from. At the time, it was something funny.

Now, hearing those lyrics and understanding the song, it meant more to Honoka. For the sake of my beloved, what can I do? There aren’t any dreams that won’t come true! I truly believe. The story was about finding out love overcomes any obstacle, the song was about discovering the miracle of love lies somewhere between heaven and earth.

Pulling her hand back, Honoka slowly reached into her skirt and took the phone out, the contact image one of Miaka leaning casually against the wall of the gym drinking a water bottle. The call ended soon and went to voice mail. For a moment, Honoka was reminded of those she loved and the obstacles they have all faced together.

For a moment, before she dropped her phone and looked up at Chastity.

“I—” Chastity tried to say, but Honoka had already cranked her allocations up and the clawed fist that caught her in the throat was lightning fast as it doubled in size and strength, lifting Chastity into the air purely from Honoka’s growth.

“No, you don’t get to talk,” Honoka growled, her voice deepening as the intuitive mix of traits she took from the wives gave a gravely, deep and demonic tone. The chimeran mix she picked wasn’t nearly as painful or chaotic as in the tunnel, only borrowing some from one wife and some from another, but it was still painful enough to force Honoka to tighten her grip reflexively from the pain. “Why does everyone keep thinking because I’m Christian I’m not willing to defend myself and my family? Christian does not mean pacifist. Benedict, Enoch, Solomon, hundreds of guild soldiers? You just threatened to rape me. Your life is worth as much as a used paper cup right now.”

“…” Chastity was struggling weakly, but less than having her air cut off the restricted bloodflow to her brain was knocking her unconscious as her face turned from bright red to gaining a purple blue color in seconds, her eyes popping out in fear as her wings and tail writhed in panic.

“Please stop.”

Honoka paused, not even sure if she was about to crush the greater succubus’ neck, looking down and behind her. Winifred was coming out of whatever Chastity did to her, still unable to get up but her face was turned towards her sister. It was odd to look at, the girl’s face was impassive but struggling to remain impassive, a look Honoka was learning was her way of trying to control any strong emotions. Because whatever Chastity might mean to Winifred, good or ill, it would appear the emotions were strong.

The rage of being manipulated and forced into doing something threatened to volcano out of Honoka at any moment, but the conflicted Ymirian had become determined to become able to control herself. Too often of late her emotions had been driving her actions and that was not what Honoka wanted to be. Forcing her drills through her head, her hand loosened until Chastity fell to the bed with a boneless plop.

“Don’t worry, Hono-chan,” Diane said with a groan, propping herself up and shuffling over to Chastity, “you won’t have to do anything. When I’m done, they’ll never find the body.”

Almost, almost, Honoka turned away and would have let Diane finish it. People who have never had to deal with strong emotions don’t know what it means to lose control. It isn’t about being stronger than the emotion, like struggling against a great weight. Emotions immerse every part of the mind and escaping them is being dunked in a pool of mud and having to swim to the surface. When a strong rage or lust takes over, it pushes everything else away and just doing whatever the emotion wants done becomes the easiest thing ever while not doing it feels like tearing off an arm.

Honoka had some experience fighting strong emotions. Before the Change, her manic depression was a constant Sisyphean task to stay alive, a battle she lost as a teenager when she lay in a tub and slit her wrists. After the Change, her emotional state became volatile with the introductions of new and powerful hormones the young woman wasn’t prepared to handle. Just to stay sane, she blocked herself away from all her old friendships and family connections as much as possible to prevent tipping over the edge. It was a balancing act she kept up for five years. Then Diane and the other wives added a new layer. No longer was her emotional problems her own, they were the family’s and it was impossible to return to the old way of repressed balance. The moment she had a handle on her rage, her lust would push itself to the fore. One moment she was deliriously happy, the next she had to be physically restrained to keep from hurting herself. Hate, love, sadness, despair, joy, relief, calm, agitation. Each moment there was something inside her head pushing her towards some new pathos.

Ironically, looking over at the effort Winifred was putting forth to restrain her emotions was what gave Honoka the compassion she needed to put her hand on Diane’s shoulder, allocating back down to herself. “Keep an eye on her, don’t want to do anything that will upset the latest wife.”

Diane looked over to Winifred then back at the unconscious bundle of Chastity, gritting her teeth but rolling back onto her butt on the bed, nodding.

Feeling a chill from the AC, Honoka shivered as she realized her latest transformation left the remnants of her clothing on the blankets. “Crappolla, nobody is going to loan me clothing if I keep returning them in rag bundles.”

“I can probably help with that,” Winifred said, getting up slowly and moving with deliberate, measured motions as she straightened her own outfit. “I’m a clothing designer.”

Honoka blinked.

Diane blinked.

Chastity didn’t blink, she was unconscious.

“You’re hired,” Diane announced, pulling out her phone and texting out the SOS and good news before giving Honoka an exasperated look. “Couldn’t have figured this out sooner? Would have saved us a lot of drama.”

“I…” Honoka paused, sighed, then walked over to put her arms down on Winifred’s shoulders. This had the additional effect of placing an erect two feet of meat almost directly into the small (but no longer five feet and growing) girl’s face. “I don’t do subtle or indirect very well. We could really use a clothing designer in our family, but I don’t want that to be what defines you or defines our relationship. Are you, Winifred Borgia, willing to join our family?”

“That the best you got?” Winifred asked, though a corner of her mouth was teasing upward even as her breasts inflated 3 cups sizes, her nipples hardening like diamonds as they pierced some seams on her top. She paused to down the potions she had grabbed earlier and wince from the taste. “I always dreamed of a romantic picnic before Prince Charming got off his white horse then onto one knee. And call me Fred.”

“Unfortunately, with me, it has been more take a number than take a knee.” Honoka maneuvered as best she could atop the large amount of comforter. One knee went down, cock parallel to her thigh, Honoka extended a gallantly and took both of Fred’s crystalline ridged hands, Honoka’s voice loftily emoting a Shakespearian quality.

“Fred, will you take this penis,” Honoka’s free hand grandly gesturing along her length, “to have inside you and to hold as much as your hands can fit around from this day forth, in horniness and deviant behavior, to lovingly pleasure both vaginally and orally, and be pleasured by into insensation, until death do we part?”

For a moment, it looked like Fred was struggling to keep her emotions in, even as her body burst seam after seam as it slowly grew out of her dark pants suit. The most damage was from rising stalagmites of crystal slicing their way through cloth like daggers as her clothing wasn’t so much torn as it was shredded off her body. Then throwing her head back, a pure peal of laughter set the girl off as her transformational growth took on a rapid new development and she leaned in close, giving Honoka a passionate kiss.

Honoka wasn’t against the kiss, but she wasn’t expecting it and, well…Fred was turning into her beastmode and that meant her mouth was changing and her teeth were growing erratically, the hot and heavy lip locking ending up with some of those new fangs cutting Honoka’s own lips and gums.

“…need you…in…me!”

Suddenly finding herself to be half the size and a fraction the weight of a now more simian shaped monstrous woman, Honoka had very little time to register the lowering growl to Fred’s voice as she was picked up bodily into the air and had her penis forcefully thrust into the waiting snatch of the growing girl. Funnily enough, even with her size, Fred winced and howled as her hymen was broken and she still couldn’t fit all of the beast inside herself, a frustration she took out by using her longer gorilla arms to pound Honoka into the bed before slamming the poor hermaphrodite up until their pelvi met with bone straining force.

And then again, and faster.

Feeling the pain of whiplash already while being used as a human dildo, Honoka tried to push against the might of the frantic woman but found her height was already passing the twenty foot mark and showed no signs of slowing, making Honoka’s efforts like trying to stop a moving train. Honoka wasn’t so much fighting against another person as she was fighting against years of pent-up emotions finally finding an outlet. Muscled in ways beyond human anatomy, her skin splitting and showing the fibrous minerals of her glowing tissues, her face locked in the angry scowl of an inhuman cross of primate and lizard, breasts the size of small cars jiggling up and down with enough force Honoka feared getting crushed to death, arms so proportionally large they could have been pillars at the Parthenon, being held in hands like the scoops of a backhoe, Fred had gone from a mousy girl next door into a rocky Kong capable of climbing skyscrapers.

However, no matter how much Honoka might like being used this way, there needed to be some boundaries set. Or, at least, a few questions answered.

I think all the wives have 86 Strength points to use, if I remember Diane’s chart.Honoka was already moving the sliders over, feeling her veins bursting with blood from the first stage to increasing Strength to such heights. Throw in another 30 Endurance, Health and Agility, then when I move into Phase 2 I won’t break my dick in half.

Honoka had no illusions, she wasn’t getting out of this giantess monkey grip with a Strength Check. From the grip her pussy was giving Honoka’s dick, vaginal muscles alone would keep the poor futa in place! While her muscles leavened into bloated loaves of indomitable power, blossoming and bulging to envelope the lower half of Honoka’s head and turning Honoka into the most steroidal of Barbie dolls, Fred kept pounding Honoka in and out like a sexual piston as she crashed back into the bed and lay on her back, now in a more Missionary position as her height passed the forty foot mark. What Honoka needed all that Strength for was Phase 2.

Lets see… Honoka kept her eye on Fred’s pussy, a rainbow tunnel of slick crystals as enough pussy juices splashed around Honoka to make her continually sputter and wipe her eyes clear. Not really able to get a good look at it, moving too fast, but that vaginal tunnel appears proportionally much larger than it should on a lady of her current stature, maybe around 2 feet in diameter. Alright, the average vagina can handle up to double that size in penis diameter and a well-stretched woman can comfortably handle triple. So I need at minimum triple that diameter…go for four times because she’s still growing…which would be 8 feet diameter. 96 x 3.14 = 302 inches circumference. The Beast is right now 17 inches around when hard, sooooo…

Honoka scrolled down her Status, pulled up the Forging Of Mjölnir submenu, and cranked it up to 1800 percent.

Fred was so far gone at this point, only her mounting frustrations at not having enough cock in her cunt was keeping her from staying at any reasonable size. That changed when she felt the Vienna sausage fill into a bratwurst, bringing the sexually deprived woman closer to orgasmic completion than she had ever been, her movements turning erratic and frantic. Yet when the meat inside her kept getting larger and larger, eventually the orgasm wave ebbed as it grew so large Fred could no longer get it inside her hole, plopping out with a loud splop!Frustrated to the point of destroying the building, Fred tried again and again to get Honoka back inside her, only now it was like trying to get a Cadillac through a doggy door: wasn’t going to happen. This frustrated thrusting was the reason Honoka needed all those points, even harmonization not enough to keep her dick from bending painfully and bruising at the tip.

“wwWHhyyYY?!” Fred lamented, pulling Honoka and the now enormous penis up close to her face, hot breath and spittle flecking onto the black FBBness of Honoka’s swoll.

“I need to know more about your Race before we move forward,” Honoka replied calmly, only partially muffled by her own pectoral muscles making it difficult to speak. “I’m sensing there’s more to you growing than just getting bigger when you have an emotion. I don’t want you - or, frankly, me - to get hurt. Talk to me.”

“I…” With visible effort, as if she were forcing her entire body to compress by ten feet, Fred slowed her breathing and forced herself into a calmer state of mind. “I no able…thinking…bigger get.”

“Got it,” Honoka said while clapping…or trying to clap. Her muscles were far too bulky to allowing her to clap, so she settled for slapping her thunder thighs while bringing her thirty-six foot penis down to a more moderate eighteen feet. “As soon as I cum, we’ll see about getting that problem harmonized.”

Fred wasn’t capable of understanding nearly any of that, but seeing a throbbing penis that could fit inside put her instincts back in the driver’s seat. Engulfing Honoka’s body in both of her giant paws, Fred jammed Honoka as far inside as she could manage, then continued to powerfully pound her own cervix as if she could somehow make Honoka fit inside her womb.

Painful as this whole experience was - forty-four Health notwithstanding, it was like having sex with an oil rig - Honoka didn’t need more than fifteen minutes to feel the kegels of her body relax their grips and deluge both her sexual tubes with gallons of her dual-gendered ejaculate.

Feeling the rhythmic clamping of a strong vaginal orgasm from Fred, Honoka dismissed the blue box of collection and started to relax as she thought about what to do next, her own orgasms ebbing down from the crescendo wave of euphoria she was honestly becoming rather accustomed to.

Or tried to.

“…Pffblbrl!…Fred?!” Honoka shouted, spitting out the backwash of jizz pieing forcefully out of Fred as Honoka’s pounding pace only increased in speed and Fred got even larger, the structure of the bed now groaning like ominous whale song while her weight was getting heavier than even this ginormous bed could handle. The Beast, always game for round two despite the tingling sensitivity of recent orgasm making Honoka grit her teeth in pain, was already filling with blood again in the corpus cavernosum and aching to grow even larger as Fred appeared to pass close to the hundred foot mark and her colossal cunt had outgrown Honoka’s cock. This meant Fred’s thrusts only got stronger and faster as she blindly tried to fill more of herself in her need.

“That is enough of that.”

From somewhere underneath Honoka, managing to reach the tired and sore futa despite the haze of her post-coital, Diane flew up between Fred’s legs and floated resolutely with her hands outstretched, forcing Fred to pause. Honoka, unable to help herself, smiled deliriously at the succubus’ upskirt showing her a clear and glorious view of Diane’s crimson thong soaked and wedged up into her freckled labia, Diane obviously choosing to float only a few feet above Honoka’s head on purpose. As Diane prepared to do whatever she was about to do, a single perfect drop of vaginal dew fell onto Honoka’s face and caused the poor abused futa to shudder.

Diane, for her part, rubbed her thighs together and slipped her tail down to rub herself. Not just because Diane was horny, but because her succubi powers worked better the closer she was to getting off.

“SEXUAL OVERCHARGE!!” Diane shouted, though it came off more as the screech of a woman clawing the headboard and climaxing with her whole body, which was also factually accurate. Her flight dipped and she fell onto Honoka who had the presence of mind to catch the cumming woman, moments before Fred roared with the volume of the meteor that killed the dinosaurs and plunged both women deep into her massive pussy as she came.

Diane’s new Racial ability hadn’t cum with an instruction manual, so she was still trying to figure it out. However, one thing she had picked up as she practiced it on herself (almost hourly, if the muffled moans floating out of her alchemy lab and into the storefront were any indication) was that the more force she put into her power, the stronger the orgasm. At its full strength - which Diane had been hesitant to try before now, only ever experiencing half the power - Diane estimated her ability was the orgasm equivalent of a M1A1 Abrams.

Fred didn’t have many braincells left to know what hit her, only that before she blacked out, the pleasure in her head reached levels only hinted at by the secret chord that David played with a minor fall and a major lift. Losing consciousness didn’t stop her body from riding the wave and thrashing in the bed so hard the comforter was shredded and one of the posts broke under the weight.

Some of that Racial power caught Honoka while she was completely engulfed in pussy and fighting for breath, her dick erupting with another cum flood. Which probably saved both Diane and Honoka’s lives. Because as the splooge pressure built, no matter how strong this pussy had become, physics eventually won out and both girls were pied onto the bed in a flood of sticky cum.

Exhausted, vomiting jizz, moving all her dials back down to normal, Honoka screamed silently as all her aches and pains on her poor battered dick zapped into her head.

“…good thing…blrggle…I took a C&A…hehe…” Diane was just a pair of lips speaking out of a pool of white slime, too tired to stand or even clean herself off. “…better move Queen slut…unless you want a two for one…”

Honoka, snorting far too much cum out of her nose and rolling over to her side, groaned as she got her body moving towards Chastity and saving the madame from the creeping tide of girlchowder almost gleefully trying to get in another pussy.

“I think I’ve had enough full-body baths of pregnog for one month, thank you very much,” Honoka lamented, starting on the long process of getting the thick gloop out of her hair and wondering if she could still get her old job back at BAS. Architects didn’t have to worry about hair-jism.