8: Under Pressure
When Honoka pushed her door open, as many bags as she was able to carry looped in her shaking and straining hands, she wasn’t expecting to see her studio apartment look like General Sherman just marched through. Setting the bags down, she stared in shock, unable to see the floor underneath the mess, open boxes and packing paper and all kinds of stuff littering everywhere. The most concentrated part was the kitchen: every burner on her stove, six other hotplates and a butane camp stove were all on and cooking different shaped glass somethings each, myriad colored and sometimes glowing concoctions in varying states of bubbling, blooping or boiling. All those burners on, including one open flame, even with the AC on full from the window unit, it was stiflingly hot.
On the bed and watching something on her phone, Diane blissfully relaxed in a pair of artfully ratty capri jeans and a tie-dyed crop top, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, tail and wings spread behind her like spilled paint. When she first glanced up and saw Honoka in the doorway her face brightened, looking like she was about to jump up and jump her in equal measure. Then Diane noticed the look on the black woman’s face and the succubus glanced around the room, observing everything possibly for the first time and what a disaster it all appeared to be. Her eyes widened and she shot straight up, panicking as she tried to suddenly wish the mess would disappear.
“I’m sorry, oh man, this looks really bad, but…” She bent down, offering a view of some great cleavage but Honoka wasn’t in the mood, picking up one of the larger clumps of packing paper, unsure where to put it. “I got those potions cooking and I guess I figured I’d clean up…later…”
Honoka reigned in her anger, rubbing her forehead with one hand while her other rested on her hip. “I should have realized you’ve never really lived with anyone before, so you don’t know what it's like to keep the common area clean. I have two older brothers and a general contractor for a father, so believe me, I’ve seen worse.” Honoka shook her head, setting her pink canvas bag by the door while keeping the keys to the van in her hand. “Speaking of my family, my parents are flying in tomorrow night to meet their future daughter-in-law and it might be a good idea to make a positive first impression for them, FYI.”
“I’ll clean it up now, at least most of it,” the alchemist succubus was losing it, nervous anxieties pulling her in different directions. “These potions need another hour before they’re done, then I’ll scrub everything spotless, I promise.”
“I don’t care about spotless, at least not until tomorrow night, but I need to walk across the room and cook lunch soon.” Honoka sighed, turning around to head back downstairs. “I still have at least five more trips for the groceries. You can’t help because you need to stay hidden, but I’m going to become tired and hungry when I’m done so I’d like at least the clutter organized.”
It took thirteen more trips. Honoka lay on the floor, gasping, legs too shaky from all the stairs and unable to keep her upright. One of those trips included leaving a box of cookies and an apology with her downstairs neighbor. During those sojourns, Diane got the apartment organized and stacked the boxes in the corner opposite the kitchen. What could fit in the fridge was put inside, but there remained so much, Honoka just left half of it next to the refrigerator, praying it wouldn’t go rotten in the heat. Diane was very apologetic and made a good start with a fantastic shoulder rub that felt downright sensual. It helped that she really leaned into it, allowing her breasts to join in the fun. She also offered to help cook but quickly claimed no idea how to cook anything other than microwave dinners.
“You watch cooking shows!” Honoka threw out in good-natured exasperation, setting up the rice cooker and a skillet from her cabinets. “Doesn’t any of it stick?”
“I like eating food, not making it.” Diane held a long thermometer into one of the tall beakers, orange goop sizzling at the bottom of it.
Honoka pointedly looked between the beakers and Diane as she started some rice in the cooker and grabbed curry and vegetables.
“Not the same,” Diane muttered defensibly, letting it drop.
“Sorry, I’m still irritated, I don’t mind if you can’t cook.” Honoka punctuated the statement with a kiss on the cheek, filling up the rice cooker with water from the tap.
“Forgiven.” Diane put the thermometer away, changing the temperature on one of the burners slightly before watching Honoka. “What’s for lunch, then?”
“I’m actually not much of a cook myself, so unless you want something else, a lot of the meals I’m going to make will be golden curry rice with vegetables and beef. Food this week will be pretty similar and straightforward until I can budget my delivery service and arrange them to deliver your food as well. It won’t be too much more because most of the cost is the delivery itself, so adding your meals will only be the cost of ingredients. Until then, I hope you like cereal for breakfast and curry rice every other meal.”
“Don’t worry so much about money, I have…a lot.” Honoka’s eyes widened, but Diane was quick to backpedal. “Not that much - still a good idea to budget - but I was Church’s pet alchemist and I provided all the potions for the workers at Solomon’s. It’s why I know he wants me back, desperately. While I didn’t get paid nearly as much as an independent like Marco would make, there are over two hundred employees at the brothel and I made a percentage each time they used my stuff instead of traditional methods of contraceptives or whatever else. I also hooked two to three times a night most nights…” She trailed off, Honoka’s eyes about to pop out. “I was trying to save enough to disappear, leave the country.”
“How much?”
“That is actually a good question, I put it away in dozens of banks and trusts to make sure Church never found out. Probably somewhere around five hundred thousand?” Diane shrugged, her wings fluttering a bit nervously.
“Wowza.” Honoka chopped vegetables, a bit awed at the wealth. “Now I feel bad I didn’t get ice cream.”
They laughed, the cooking only a few minutes and soon enough, Diane grabbed a plate of curry and rice with a tall glass of cranberry juice from the fridge. There wasn’t a table so she ate leaning over the counter. As she dug in, the succubus was curious about Honoka’s meal.
“Remember, we are going to level harmonization today.” Honoka pulled out the food from and around the fridge she bought at the store and stacked it next to the bed. Most of the purchases, by weight, were meat. “That might take as little as three more ejaculations, but it could also take as many as twelve.” It wasn’t long to stack everything, not putting much of it away earlier, knowing it was for her lunch. “My current morning meal plan takes into account a healthy and normal two to four ejaculations. I’ve ejaculated twice today so far and have enough food digested for another two. The rest is simple math, though I overestimated to cover my bases.”
“Wait, this is all raw,” Diane pointed out, trying to wrap her head around the mass of it all. “Shouldn’t you cook it?”
“I normally buy everything cooked because it costs less with the delivery company I use. My body actually prefers raw meat, which still icks me a little. Ok,” Honoka said, finishing organizing her food mountain and laying a towel on her pillows, “I’m going to need your help putting this all in me. I’ve never eaten this much but I imagine I won’t be able to move afterward. There’s a…pairing knife in the block on the counter, use it to cut away the plastic and then hand it to me. Hopefully, I won't spill too much.” Stripping down to her crimson sports bra and panties, removing the harness and letting the Beast breath, Honoka lay on the bed with her first case of mixed vitamins and tilted them up.
Honoka never tried to eat this much. The usual amount she ate still gave her chills sometimes, though at least after doing it nearly two thousand times, she was used to it. Today, with three massive boxes of supplements and pills containing over two thousand individual vitamins known as a Giant Mix, thirty gallons of raw milk, six dozen large eggs and three hundred pounds of butchered and bloody beef, she worried she wouldn’t be able to fit it all. Either that or her stomach would burst. Starting with the gallons of milk, they lacked the convenient hole at the bottom to let in air, so she glugged them slowly to avoid covering herself and her bed in milk. After the sixth, she found it tiring, gulping each mouthful harder work if done over and over again while laying down.
“You are getting huge,” Diane commented, handing Honoka her first slab of beef, fifteen pounds of chuck. Down the hatch and Mount Tummy visibly stretched, Honoka’s dark stomach sloshing wildly and reaching beachball-sized already, her navel forced into an outie and topping the wobbling mass. Honoka was a little concerned, not sure why she stretched so much so soon, but maybe it was because this would be her second meal of the day. Hoping she wasn’t making a huge mistake, she devoured the next box of vitamins and then moved onto the eggs.
Unlike before, where they went smoothly down, her throat seemed to betray her and enjoyed crushing them as she swallowed eggs whole, the gooey yokes mixing with bits of shells and sliding effortlessly the rest of the way down, similar in texture to swallowing raw oysters. Honoka thought she would hate it, but the sensation was both sublime and arousing. The eggs bursting in her throat and oozing down inside her was the best part so far and she swore she wouldn’t eat any more hardboiled eggs again. She gobbled them down her maw like a lizard who sneaked into the nest. Before she knew it, she polished off all six dozen eggs.
“Ooooh, that felt goooood.” Honoka rubbed her bloated stomach, now pressing down on half her body and overtaking the bed. Underneath, the Beast painfully tried to erect itself upward but the weight pushed it parallel with Honoka’s legs, her panties soaked at this point with female fluids and staining her covers. “I didn’t know eating felt this amazing.”
“Come on, you’ve hardly touched your meat and then you still have over half your milk to go.” The succubus helped tip a long twenty pounds of flank into Honoka’s mouth, then giving her two ten pound rounds followed by another twenty pounds of the chuck. Honoka ballooned, covering the entire bed now and creeping over the sides like the world’s most massive chocolate muffin. “The amount of food you are eating does not equal the mass and weight you are gaining.”
Honoka finished another gallon of milk, tossing the empty jug. “I think it might relate to energy conversion. Like the food is getting translated into whatever magical System shenanigans is happening inside of me before being stored in some kind of otherworldly spatial compartment. The fact it is all raw instead might mean a greater conversion, accounting for the greater proportional size. But yeah,” Honoka used one hand now to keep her own stomach from smothering her, “this is more than I’ve ever seen.”
Both women screamed when the old metal supports holding the bed off the floor collapsed and the bed broke to the ground. “Should we stop?” Diane didn’t hide her worry.
“Aside from becoming very squished and having my penis in a rather painful position, I feel fine.” Honoka laughed, grabbing another jug of milk. “I’m also kinda curious to see how big I grow. However, for safety, can you move my computer screens and tower so I don’t accidentally crush it?”
Honoka sipped the last few jugs of milk slowly, giving Diane enough time to move the expensive electronics out of the way. Once done, the two women got to work finishing off the last of the pills and then the meat. When Honoka consumed the last of the meat, she found herself using both hands to keep her own bloated flesh from smothering her, over half the apartment space filled from ceiling to floor and wall to wall with stretched, taut, warm, jiggling, fatty black flesh. Honoka repeatedly told Diane she was alright, though both of them were concerned as the floors of the old mansion creaked ominously more than once. To pass the time, Diane grew adventurous and decided to give Honoka a surprise.
“Hey, what are you doing over there?” Honoka shouted, unsure what she felt at the moment.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Diane, lifting up the flabby flesh, crawled under the crushing weight, the actual mass not as much as it appeared. Using her phone light, she lifted the skin up and wormed her way underneath. After a few feet, she realized her mistake, feeling like she was covered in the world’s heaviest heated blanket, sweat pouring off her and dealing with the equally sweaty Honoka-flab. There was air to breathe, thankfully, but there wasn’t a lot of it at first. It was hard and slow going, though the distance wasn’t actually very far before she hit the pocket around the broken bed and found Honoka’s legs.
“What are you—no fair, hahaha! No tickling!” Honoka shouted but she doubted she was heard, her feet unable to escape the assault. It didn’t take long, though, before Honoka gasped and realized what Diane’s plan really was, a warm tongue licking on her engorged knob.
Diane was unable to position herself very well, only able to shimmy enough to reach her lips around the head and some of the shaft, so she let her hands do the rest of the work as they ran up and down Honoka’s hard length. No need to lubricate anything, both of them were drenched in sweat at this point, the succubus already regretting this. The heat and lack of air made her lightheaded and she wasn’t enjoying one bit. Using every trick learned in years of living in a brothel, Diane attacked the penis, trying to finish before she fainted.
On Honoka’s end, she remained blind to her lower half, only feeling lips and hands and tongue work her over mercilessly. She was already erect and aroused; it was the middle of the day and she was ready for it. The fact the young woman wasn’t witnessing any of what happened underneath her somehow made it more erotic. Although pointed at an extreme angle, the process didn’t take long. With half a grunt and half a scream, Honoka’s ejaculate tore through her urethra and shot down her shaft into Diane.
Diane, for her part, got caught completely by surprise. She was too distracted by the pressure and heat and wasn’t paying attention for those telltale signs of a final increase of girth and hardness, nor could she see the muscles tense and all-important facial cues of what was cumming. She also never actually witnessed what Honoka’s spunk cannon was capable of, both previous orgasms ending inside her pussy. Although she felt like someone stuck a hose inside her then, there wasn’t an objective moneyshot so she was left with only an academic appreciation of Honoka’s nature before this blowjob.
In the first moment, it felt like a baseball hit the back of her throat and an entire cup’s worth forcefully ripped down her esophagus, but then it kept spewing before her gag reflex closed her uvula, her cheeks blowing out to their maximum and she choked as a spray of semen spurted out from her lips. This pushed the succubus off the rod, the last of that first blast hitting her in the eyes and blinding her.
And then Honoka contracted again. A flood of jism slamming Diane in the face, covering her in the sugary smelling baby batter as she tried to place her hands between the spray to catch her breath. Then another contraction, and another. After the eighth one and no end in sight, practically swimming at this point, Diane tried to get away but the hot mess she was enveloped in made that difficult. When the last bit left Honoka around the fifteenth or sixteenth contraction, the blissfully unaware hermaphrodite smiled continently - happy to have such a considerate fiancé - as the literally drowning-in-cum succubus shouted muffled profanity while trying to slither out of her own splooge cavern.
Twenty minutes later, when Honoka shrunk down to a more manageable size, the black woman offered heartfelt apologies between fits of laughter, also impressed because she never came that much as Diane conclusively demonstrated, her entire body slathered and basted and dripping in white spunk, her arms angrily folded as she screamed and raged, stopping herself mid-rant from breaking her promise about language and stomping into the bathroom, the door slamming shut and the shower turning on soon after.
********************
“40%. I think we have a good start.” Honoka was unbearably cheerful, using a mop and lots of bleach to clean up the mess. They took the queen mattress and moved it to the middle of the room, leaving the broken supports for later. The bedding soaked in the tub, spare blankets were pulled from the closet, the window open while a small potpourri cooker lessened the impact of drying semen in the air.
“I am the first woman to be baptized entirely in jizz, and all I got was twelve percent.” Diane bottled her potions, making sure to carefully label them with tiny, blocky handwriting. “I'm getting that printed on a t-shirt.”
She declared, exiting the bathroom naked earlier, that her outfit would be ritualistically burned in cleansing fire, stuffing the wet offending articles in three layers of sealed garbage bags and placing them outside the door on the landing.
“But why twelve points?” Honoka wrung out the mop in the kitchen sink, taking a moment to pace as she thought. She went completely nude after rising out of bed, unwilling to constantly change clothes if sweaty sex kept happening. And while returning back to size quickly enough, she experienced both a sense of phantom bloating and unknown energy she tried to burn off, her flaccid Beast swinging between her legs. “We have three data points and they don't appear to line up. Sex doggy style, I flail uselessly and Diane does nothing, five points. Blowjob, quick and well-meaning but messy, twelve points. Sex with Diane on top, acceptable coordination and effort from both parties, twenty-one points.”
“Four data points: changed into a succubus and wammying a frightened human with Aura Of Lust, two points.” The alchemist put on an apron because working with magical chemicals without protection was stupid, but that was all she wore and she wore it well, sitting with her legs crossed on the floor.
“Is it as simple as the name implies?” The former architect paused and locked eyes with Diane as they both reached logical comprehension. “Harmonization. The more we work together, the better the results?”
“Sounds as good a theory as any.” Diane wasn't paying as much attention as she would regret later, putting labeled and sealed vials into a plastic case with a honeycomb of slots to hold a hundred flasks and keep them safe. Maybe if she wasn't focused on alchemy instead of on Honoka, things would have turned out differently.
“Great, let's test it!” Honoka clapped her hands and headed to her bag, rummaging for a moment before pulling out a potion vial filled with blue, opaque liquid, popping the cap off loudly, and downing it all in one go, licking her lips at the sweet taste.
Hearing the pop, the succubus looked up and behind just in time to see Honoka holding an empty vial and licking her lips. Knowing it wasn't one of her concoctions, she grew alarmed. “What did you drink?”
“Something I bought from your friend Marco, he called it Old Faithful.” Honoka winked as she tried and failed to do much of a sexy walk. “Supposed to help in the libido department. If we’re lucky, we can knock a couple of levels out in harmonization in the next hour.”
“Shi—kerdoodles!” Diane leaped up, her wings flapping down hard to get her standing in an instant as she spun around and grabbed the bottle out of Honoka’s shocked hands. Reading the label, she went over it carefully twice before stuffing it in her apron pocket and grabbing her worried partner by the shoulders. “Honoka, listen very carefully, you are in a lot of danger right now. Lay down on the bed and don't move, we don't have a lot of time and walking around might get it started.” Diane then attacked her boxes in the corner, knocking over containers to the sound of crashing and broken glass.
Terrified now, Honoka did as she was told, laying down on the bed and hugging herself. “What’s wrong, Diane? What's going to happen?”
“It might not happen, it doesn't happen to every Race with a magically enhanced libido, but I personally watched it happen to two people.” The alchemist searched through her magical supplies, pulling out little baggies of powder and holding them up to the light, discarding most of them but keeping a few. “The first rule of magic is don't mix like with like. Fire magi shouldn't wear Flaming Armor, dryads shouldn't try bonding with Laputa, succubi don't take aphrodisiacs. If you're really, really lucky, nothing happens as the magics cancel out. Most of the time…” Diane looked into Honoka’s eyes and tears ran down her cheeks. “Those two girls I knew died.”
“But, I'm not a succubus!”
“No, your Race and even your Class revolves around sex, though. I am going to kill Marco, there are laws against this.” Diane found whatever she was looking for, taking a bunch of powders and dumping them into a mortar before she furiously smashed them with a pestle, sparks flying into her face and green smoke coming out of the stone bowl. “If I'm wrong, we’ll laugh over it later. If I'm right, this,” she tipped what looked like a brown paste into her mouth, causing her to double over in pain, “might…ach!…save your life.”
Honoka made to lean up when she suddenly felt boiling fire pump out from her heart, falling back on the bed in a cold sweat and dizziness. Also, in record time, the Beast rose from the dead and sprang into the air, blood rushing in so fast Honoka cried out from the pain. “Wha-what did you drink?”
“Absorption…potion…sorta.” The succubus was exhausted. Still, she crawled over on top of Honoka while discarding her apron. “Should have…cooked it properly…first.” Without preamble, she moved her vulva into place and dropped herself down on top of Honoka, her dry and unprepared hole tearing something as she moved up and down, red covering Honoka’s shaft. “AAH! If I can force you to cum fast enough…I can take in half the residual thaumatic energy of your potion.” Slick with blood, the experienced prostitute moved into a smoother rhythm, though she was obviously in a great deal of pain. “In theory…if I mixed it right.”
Honoka felt the effects, her mind fading in and out as she arched her back and gripped the bed in female orgasm. It didn't feel like it usually did, coming so fast and then disappearing, it was more like a toddler playing with a light switch instead of the typical anticipation and climax. As if her body and brain reacted separately, the woman barely felt anything in her erogenous zones. Before Honoka took another breath, Diane coming down again, it happened once more, then another.
“Stay with me!” The words sounded echoey, far away. Honoka’s heart pounded so fast she lost herself to the frantic rhythm, each beat bringing her up and down in climax after climax. “I lo—”
…
…
*dong*
…
…
The pleasure and pain were gone, everything gone, only the lingering sound of the temple bell fading. Honoka was in the white and felt nothing, which was such a relief after the last few harrowing minutes. That is, if she still felt relief. It was more a lack of sensation, something now nothing, the emptiness bringing serenity. Floating - or existing, Honoka still wasn’t sure what this was - the woman took it in and released herself from sensation, from worries, from her problems, from the world.
Hello?
Honoka realized she was not alone. Like holding a hand on a large plasma globe in a museum, the faint tingle of something was there. Honoka followed it to find another entity sharing the space with her. Both of them without form, without visual shape, but Honoka perceived a presence connected…mingled…with herself.
Diane?
Honoka? They spoke without words, the whiteness so still, thoughts were enough to travel the space between them or through their joining. Are we dead?
I don’t think so, but we might be. I told you about this when I blacked out after our first time.
This is so weird, I was…am…so worried…was. A confused pause followed while the other woman came to grips with this void. I can’t feel. I think I should be more terrified of here and us, but I’m not.
Yeah. They drifted, silent and empty. A large blue box appeared to end the waiting.
Before either reacted to the new information, the box cracked and shattered, blue energy sizzling around them. Blackness rushed to create a horizon, both women experiencing a sense of motion as they found themselves atop a white world looking up into a black void. Coming from the void was a being beyond comprehension, as if their minds were unable to define anything about it aside from scope. It was immense, encompassing a reality more significant than the one they knew, able to engulf space and time. It spoke, two words - not words, concepts - drowning the bodiless beings with meaning as the blackness took hold on their sanity. Two absolute abstractions transcending words and language:
And, more ominous: