Becoming Monsters

The time had come.

Honoka didn’t take long recovering, her little adventure followed with a shower, a full sized meal and a hundred gallons of water to keep her fluids up. Abra and pets absorbed the milk at a rapid pace. After a few hours Abra stated she was over 60%, still sloshing plenty of milk inside herself and her bugs to pump those numbers up even higher.

During a quick second dinner of sandwiches, Honoka received the third degree from the wives (plus one unfortunately nearby aunt) for the boob stunt. Apparently, thick cream splattered into every crevice, this singular mistake ruining more clothing than any other allocation to date. Honoka took it well, though the chastisement burned out quickly as the wives accepted it was for Abra’s sake. Besides, everyone was excited for the main event tonight, which had finally arrived.

“Are you gals sure about these?” Honoka asked, using Diane’s datapad to skim through the list every wife submitted. “Some of these look…extreme. Even for me.”

“This isn’t just about us,” Padmava said, handing out glasses of cool and tart aam panna. The minty menthol was especially strong today because these unripe mango drinks sweetened by Ice Wasp honey, little ice chips forming inside each glass. “We came up with our separate initial harmonization ideas, then we discussed it as a family. These harmonizations are as much about preparing for the future as about self-improvement or cosmetics. Not that there’s anything wrong with cosmetics.”

Honoka nodded absently, adjusting one of the towels she wore while snuggling deeper into the plush cushion. All the wives wore towels milling around Padmava’s living room, completely prepared for whatever unexpected situation was about to happen. The reason for towels instead of naked was because Uncle Aki and Aunt Shilo were present and fully clothed, sipping their own glasses. Originally, the plan was doing this in the clinic - access to Akisame’s equipment in case of a prenatal emergency giving the suggestion a lot of weight - until Shilo explained some of the changes might damage the delicate magical machines.

The compromise was Padmava’s living room. The clinic was only three rooms down the hall in case they needed it, the space was also open enough for all the wives to sprawl and relax. And if any form of cleanup was needed afterward, Pad’s master bathroom was larger than the Big Bath in both size and surrounding floor space. Ten wives either sat on cushions (Abra buzzing in at the last second, finishing her absorption and healing minutes ago) knelt on the floor or slithered around the room passing out drinks. Towels were the state of dress, making it appear to be a spa day, joined by an older couple who were a bit too excited to observe.

“From a purely scientific perspective, I think this will be fascinating,” Akisame observed dryly, quirking a small smile on the side of his mouth.

“Ignore him, his mind is just as perverted as his niece’s,” Shilo said with a wave of white paw. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep him in line and take care of him later. We’re both here in a purely medical capacity.”

The entire room took a collective breath to let that sink in, perceiving the older gentleman in a new light.

“Ew,” Honoka said, pointedly glaring at her uncle and aunt with disgust, eliciting laughs from the peanut gallery. “And again, ew.”

“Hurry it up, only got two more hours before the kids return from their movies,” Eve pointed out, munching away on a giant bowl of buttery popcorn she shared with Quinn.

Scanning the list again, Honoka growled and handed the datapad back to Diane. “There’s too much here, I’m not going to remember it all. I’ll just call out names and you can tell me where to stick the points. Who’s first?”

“We thought you could start with Pad, she’s getting Racial Features and Attributes.” Diane scrolled through her list to the motherly naga. “That way we can stretch the new girls out before plunging into the more extreme Racial swaps later on.”

“Alright! Lets do this, Pythona!” Honoka said excitedly, rubbing her hands together with glee. That glee faded when hit with a sea of confused looks. “Hrrgh, she’s the Cobra-la emissary to Serpentor in…ya know what? You all have phones, you can look her up.” Scrolling down her Status, Honoka selected Padmava in the Collection menu and blinked.

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

When her eyes opened, Honoka found herself in a different place.

“What?! Girls?!” Honoka shouted, standing and spinning in place. Honoka was no longer in the dungeon, she was in the front yard of a Japanese castle. The sun shown through orange clouds, the air smelled of sakura blossoms, colder than Honoka was accustomed to. Like she stood on a high mountain. There were mountains off in the horizon, but the ground around the castle was oddly bare and empty around her feet.

Her brain attempted to stem the panic, searching for sense from the nonsensical. How could there be the smell of sakura without trees? Were the mountains real or backdrops to the Matrix? Thinking of those trees in the mountains reminded her of the time in Sapporo where she visited the Autumn Festival with her family. Which still didn’t make any sense because sakura bloomed in the spring, not in September.

Why am I thinking about a festival I watched when I was eight? Honoka thought, suddenly looking down in alarm to see if she still had the towel on. And she remained alarmed over what she found. No towel: Honoka wore a fancy blue kimono styled for a man, wide dark hakama underneath. Actually, it wasn’t only a kimono, it was a kamishimo, the fancy over-vest that went on top of a kimono with very wide shoulders daimyō wore in the Edo Period. As the granddaughter of an actual daimyō, Honoka remembered her grandfather and some cousins dressed in identical outfits a couple of times, always at formal occasions. However, strange clothing was not the priority right now.

“Can anyone hear me?!” Honoka shouted, spinning around, trying to reference where she was or what she needed to return home. All she earned for her troubles were empty echoes and the rustle of hidden trees.

The castle gate stood open like a glowing quest marker in a game. Other then a mountain trail that went literally nowhere, there weren’t any other options for the frantic woman. Marching as quickly as possible, Honoka picked out details of the place for clues in an attempt to solve this puzzle. Which, to the former architect, was easier to ferret out than she guessed. Slowing, Honoka stopped inside the courtyard of the castle when it hit her.

“I know this place,” Honoka muttered, idly scratching her head (growing irritated when she realized her hair was folded in a chonmage topknot, thankfully without the authentic shaved top of her head) as she absorbed each detail. The tenshu - or main structure of the castle - was traditional, a tall wooden castle with multiple levels of sweeping roofs. Inside the courtyard, other smaller structures were more modern and borrowed from Western designs. Even the garden, which should have been sculpted with the precision of Japanese aesthetic, had more of the circular, wild feel found in a Chinese garden. In her mind, Honoka knew that if she stepped into any building, she would find her way through room after room blindfolded, from knowing the type of wood used to the quality of the tatami under her feet.

Honoka knew this castle because she designed it. A labor of love, she created the plans for this dream during the three and a half years attending college. This was both her thesis project and the home she wanted for herself when she became a world famous architect. Seeing it, standing in it, Honoka felt emotions she hadn’t felt in years. The pride of creating something with both purpose and art overwhelmed her. Taking it all in, Honoka felt tears in her eyes as she laughed inside her dream.

“…oka?”

Honoka spun towards the voice. It appeared not everything was the same in her magnificent thesis project. Standing next to the gate, dressed as a samurai warrior, stood a perfect stone statue replica of Miaka. The martial artist was posed as if surprised, her face frozen in shock.

“Miaka?” Honoka asked, finally realizing she was in some sort of crazy Status dream and not mystically transported to a trap built by villains or Heralds or both. With no response, Honoka reached out and touched the statue. “Mia—”

“Honoka?!” Not only did the statue instantly come to life, Miaka changed from stone to living color. On top of that, the familiar Harmony menus appeared in Honoka’s vision. “What happened, are you alright, where are we?”

“Hold on,” Honoka said, keeping one hand on Miaka while waving the other to calm the frantic woman. “I think this is a Status thing. What’s it been like from your perspective?”

“You suddenly collapsed, no reason to it.” For a brief moment Miaka took stock of her surroundings and the armor wore, then kept tumbling the conversation forward as she got her priorities straight. “I didn’t know your uncle could move that fast. He was the first one by your side, checking your heart and breathing before most of us noticed something was wrong. We were discussing getting you moved to the clinic when I popped in here then popped out. Now I’m back and I’m confused why you look like a sumi-e from history class.”

“I think I know what’s going on. You are currently here because I’m touching you but I’m going to let go in a second so you can calm everyone down. Tell everyone to relax and sit back, it looks like we’re harmonizing from inside tel’aran’rhiod. Because I don’t know where everyone is in this place, you’ll be first: get ready to come back in three minutes.” Honoka was about to let go when she had an important thought. “Oh, and because I can only talk to one person at a time, make sure everyone knows exactly what they want or else all the unspent points are going into boobs.”

Miaka nodded and gave a thumbs up, going gray and still when Honoka let go.

Alone again, Honoka took a moment to reign in boiling emotions. Up down, left right, bounce bounce bounce, the panicking woman focused on breathing steady as she felt herself try to hyperventilate. Too many shocks to her system caused her to spiral and she had to get a grip on herself. When she first arrived, for the first instant before she had time to think, Honoka thought she had been transported to this world by another Herald. Before, uncertainty had kept a lid on fear. Now, the terror bloomed and attempted to drown her. And if Honoka was being honest, she had been treading this water for weeks. Balling up her fist, Honoka slammed it onto her leg, using pain to force a facade of calm.

“Enoch is dead, the family is safe, Enoch is dead, the family is safe.” On and on, Honoka repeated her mantra, her reminder, her prayer as she slowly relaxed and was able to step back from the brink. With a slight tremor in her hand, Honoka reached out and touched Miaka again.

“That is so trippy,” Miaka said as she cracked her neck, wincing when the shikoro swooping down over her neck from the helmet pinched her shoulder. Glancing down, the Japanese girl remarked with amusement, “Am I in samurai armor? Why am I in armor and you’re dressed as a fancy lord?”

“I think this place is metaphysical,” Honoka said, swiping to Miaka’s Rectify tab in her Harmony options. “I designed this castle in college, it is my dream home. And if the Status is actually sentient, in a weird way it would see me as the lord of the family. You? I guess you make sense as a guardian or warrior. Or maybe this is all a construct of my Id and you’re sharing my delusions.” Making a few selections from memory, Honoka nodded and looked up to Miaka. “Ok, twenty-five points spent to fix your nerve and brain damage from your time in the ring. What’s next?”

“I can feel it,” Miaka said, flexing her talons back and forth then reaching to her left knee and bending her leg back and forth. “I hurt this knee when I was a teen and just starting out, it always hurts. I don’t feel pain anymore.”

“Play with yourself later, I estimate the other wives are still worried back home.”

“Wonder what Honoka dream pussy tastes like,” Miaka mused rhetorically with a leer, straightening and adjusting her armor into place. “Um, three Intelligence, four Endurance, seven Dexterity, seven Strength, six Charisma, seven inches (18 cm) of size and the Phoenix Race change option.”

As Honoka input each set of points, it became obvious the changes were made instantly to Miaka. Eyes sharpening, slower breathing, her fingers cracking, arms and shoulders swelling to the point where of the latches popped and pieces of armor fell off, her arms bulking up another six inches (15 cm) and gaining thick ridged veins outlined even under feathers, then those feathers gaining added luster as her chest and breasts thrust forward enough that her chestplate creaked from the strain. Finally, most of her armor broke apart when she grew another seven inches and burst half the clips and buckles, once again taller than Honoka (to the jealous growth-hungry woman’s irritation). When Honoka picked the last option for Phoenix, Honoka faced an insistent blue box.

“Did you learn anything on the Phoenix Race from the internet?” Honoka asked as she dismissed the box and double checked her choices before making the final confirmation.

“Only that there are less than a dozen confirmed cases still alive, one of them famously a puppet emperor of the Glorious Chinese Empire fighting the communist government at the moment.” Miaka flexed a bicep to swell her arm like inflating a soccer ball, grinning at the granite hardness in those guns now. “No solid information on what options the Race has, but it is clear from the few videos out there they have fire and healing magics. What is interesting is that unless there’s a hidden flock somewhere, I will be the first female example.”

Wanting to grumble, Honoka shrugged and decided it could wait, hitting the confirmation and letting go of Miaka. Miaka, for whatever reason, didn’t turn back into a statue like they both expected. Much to the exhaustion of Honoka’s frayed nerves.

“I’m not leaving,” Miaka replied obviously, wary of other Status problems baring their tits.

“Of course you are stuck with me, why wouldn’t you be?” Honoka was having it up to here with Status malarkey, wanting to grab a blue box and shake it until the stuffing came loose. “We could be stuck in here for days unless we find all the wives. Fly up and see if you spot any more of them outside, I’ll start going through the annex buildings.”

Honoka’s castle was not small, scaled to other similar castles like Himeji and Kumamoto. It didn’t include the complete complex other castles possessed, traditional Japanese castles typically part of a city-sized defense. Honoka’s castle still had over a dozen large buildings in a courtyard covering three hundred acres (1.2 sq km). Honoka’s cost analysis for it in college put it somewhere at twenty million dollars to build, never mind land prices and eventual upkeep. Her teachers used it as an example to other students of wasteful building costs and the need to design something practical instead of opulent. Though it was eventually accepted by the panel, her grades were docked for designing something wasteful.

At the time Honoka had silently been proud of her magnificent castle. Right now, it was like looking for gold needles in Rumpelstiltskin’s haystack.

“Found Banda!” Miaka shouted after a half hour of searching, swooping low over the building Honoka was fruitlessly searching.

The jog didn’t take them long, coming to the edge of the open garden. The reason Miaka missed the large holstaur statue at first was she was sitting on a bench under the cover of blooming trees. When Honoka arrived and assessed the stone cow, the intelligent woman began piecing together how to make it easier finding everyone else.

“This area is the garden,” Honoka said, slowing down to a walk along the path towards the stone woman. Banda resembled Rodin’s work, bovine eyes pointed over the field. Her clothing resembled a common laborer in Edo Japan, loose cotton gray kimono over a fundoshi and wearing a simple straw conical amigasa hat, floppy bovine ears poking through holes. Of interesting note, Banda was not pregnant in this realm and appeared just as she had a week ago. “I think we’ll find each wife near a place that relates to their role in the family.”

“Should save us some time,” Miaka said, thinking about it as she cracked her knuckles and took another look around the area. “I’m guarding the gate, Banda’s growing food: tell me where your sex dungeon is so I can grab Eve.”

Honoka lightly punched Miaka in the arm then stepped through the tall grass, reaching her hand out to Banda and summoning her here.

“Before you say anything, I’m going to let go in a second so you can give everyone an update that we are fine, but this might take a while because we have to find each wife to unlock Harmony. Also, when I confirm the point selection in my menus, that wife is stuck here until we’re done. Any questions?”

“I’ll ask, give me two minutes,” Banda said, midway shaking her head when Honoka released her and the girl returned to stone.

“Hmm, next wife we find I’m going to see if there’s anything around I can insert into their stony twat, give them something to wake up to.” Miaka was already looking around the garden, probably searching for ripe cucumbers.

Honoka snorted, counting the seconds down until the time and bringing Banda back with a touch to her thigh.

“Ok, don’t do that quickly, I think it could cause seizures.” Banda rubbed her eyes, confused to not be pregnant but otherwise adapting quickly. “Everyone is on board, though if Quinn is next, hold off on her because she’s cooking snacks in case this takes longer than expected. I also cannot confirm or deny a certain goblin finding a marker and drawing lewdness on your faces.”

Grumbling, Honoka got to work putting the holstaur’s points together. With sixteen levels of Harmony, Banda had 110 points to play with. As was explained to Honoka, the pregnant wives agreed to put off spending fifteen points until after the children were born in case any emergencies came up. With 95 points, eight went into Strength, seven into Agility, five into Wisdom. Then Banda bought the Racial Feature to change the taste of her milk once a day as well as increase nutritional values for her milk by 25% three times. Finally, for a hefty price tag of forty-five points, Banda agreed with the other girls and picked the as yet undiscovered Race of Celestial Taurine.

“Whoa, Immortal?” Honoka said, whistling low when confirming the selection and stepped back. “As in, immortal immortal?”

“This one I actually know,” Miaka said, holding a long potato in her hand before tossing it back into the garden. “It just means anti-aging, doesn’t make the person unkillable. It is the most common Racial General Feature Legendary Races can have.”

Banda, for her part, was still adjusting to shulking out and stretching her loose kimono into a very tight fit around her muscular body. Really, with a Strength score of forty points now, the holstaur woman looked like an obscene muscled mountain, fibers rippling with every minute movement she made.

*riiip*

“Crap,” Banda muttered, her kimono giving up as she stood, forcing her to shuck the garment off and go topless, only her tight fundoshi giving her the illusion of modesty along with her straw hat. Normally, the shy woman would be blushing up a storm by now, but the previous conversation must have distracted her. “Can someone refresh Kong’s Theories on Racial Features for me? Suddenly seems important I know what to expect with these new features.”

Honoka could also use the distraction, though it was Miaka that spoke. “Been reading up the same thing for Phoenixes, so I have it all fresh.” Miaka plucked out some grass and stuck it into her beak, squatting in the dirt. “Racial Features basically come in four flavors: Racial Required, Racial Specific, Racial Cluster Specific - like Gormor and Demonic - and Racial General. According to Kong’s theory, once a person is assigned a Race by the System, they are assigned the Racial Required first. Immediately after, all the relevant Racial Abilities from the other three groups are put into a giant lottery bingo cage and mixed around, then selections are doled out according to luck.

“What makes Honoka unique is she can view all these extra abilities.” How Miaka managed to grin with a beak was more about the edges of her cheeks moving up, but it was clear she enjoying this. “So the total amount of Succubus Specific Abilities might number thirty, people only able to gather through poling and message boards all the information on - let's say - twenty-four of them. The world assumes there are twenty-four because that is all the available data, though people will update the list when another ability becomes available.”

Banda nodded, realizing the state of her unclothedness and starting to blush. Honoka took that as opportunity to find a quiet place and collect herself again.

“Alright girls, I don’t want to spend eternity in here.” Honoka trudged through the grass then broke into a jog towards the main building. “You two check the outer buildings while I head to the main castle. Remember, think about who’s missing and what kind of part they play.”

As they split up, Honoka had a moment of relief when she got out of sight and attempted to recover some composure. She needed to escape, this place had a way of making her feel both lost and unwanted, like she was a stranger in her own home. Not willing to dive much deeper into some kind of meaning behind those feelings, Honoka picked up the pace and made her way to the tenshu in the center of the complex, arriving to find the next surprise in what was becoming an exhausting day.

“Just when I think I’ve hit my quota for weird, something like this shows up.” Honoka shook her head, rubbing her eyes while standing in the entryway of the main building.

In the center of the grand hallway - a massive affair opening almost to the topmost ceiling of the main building, wooden pillars on either side showcased hallways of five levels - there stood three stone statues. Or at least three unfinished stone statues. The two on the right and left were partially finished, one clearly Abra in an identical farmer’s outfit to Banda’s ruined kimono and hat, the other Gwyneth in the robes of a Shinto priestess. They were both rough works in process, with enough details to infer what they would become. The center one, though, was just a hunk of stone.

Stepping closer, Honoka was drawn to the center stone. There was a crevasse in the center, pulling Honoka closer, peering inside. At first, the details eluded her, until suddenly Honoka realized she was staring into the eyes of a girl. Only the eyes, nothing else shaped in the block, but those eyes had a fierce intensity. Honoka had felt that gaze watching her before.

“Who are you?” Honoka asked, rubbing her hand against the stone and not getting a response, wondering if this unformed rock was the glitch she had noticed these last few weeks. Maybe, Honoka was now beginning to realize, that glitch was a person.

“Found Quinn,” Miaka said from behind Honoka, startling the futa as she spun and screeched.

“Great!” Honoka said, her nerves at wits end as she marched back toward the entrance, avoiding Miaka’s gaze. “Let’s get this…”

Miaka reached out a talon and grabbed Honoka by the arm. The bird’s grip was iron tight and impossible to move, Miaka unaccustomed to her new strength. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just…tired,” Honoka replied, giving her suspicious wife a weak smile. “Think I’ll go right to bed when this is all done.”

“Uh-huh,” Miaka replied, peering at the unfinished statues while letting Honoka go. “Quinn’s in the third building to the left, looks like a design workshop inside.”

“The architectural office, got it.”

They were silent while jogging to the building in question, opening broad double doors and showcasing the single open space inside. Quinn was dressed in a similar fashion to Miaka, armored in Edo period samurai fashion. What was different from Miaka is that Quinn’s otter body wore armor more elaborate and stylized, like the cross of a shōgun (samurai military leader) and a kabutomushi, (Japanese rhinoceros beetle). Helmet held under one arm, she appeared to study what Honoka recognized was an aerial view of the designs for castle and grounds.

“I think she’s a general, if I’m a guardian,” Miaka said, keeping a concerned eye on Honoka that the harried woman ignored.

“Whatever,” Honoka said, her voice having a bit of an edge to it as she marched across the room and touched Quinn. “I would have guessed the kitchen.”

“Perfect timin’,” Quinn said, dropping her helmet as she looked around with a huge grin. “Just got ma cookies out uv the oven. If’n y’all hurry there might even be some left.”

“Where’s your points going?” Honoka asked tersely, calming down as she immersed herself in the numbers and menus.

Quinn had agonized over this decision for weeks. Specifically, choosing the Mystic Otter Race Change option for five points. Beastkin didn’t come with many perks or options, but there was no question that during the last round of Harmony her munchkin two-for-one Attribute gains Quinn saved the lives of everyone multiple times. There was a very real and heated argument among the other wives to just keep pumping Attribute points into the otter until all her scores were over one hundred. It was significant to the family that in the end, Quinn decided to take a leap of faith. At Quinn’s request, Honoka made the Racial change first.

“Is Kawauso Shapeshiftin’ on my Feature list?” Quinn asked after Honoka explained the process and the notice. When Honoka shook her head, the otter anthro grimaced while whiskers twitched irritably. “Dagnabit, gonna have ta get that one. I think it might be the most useful Feature this Race has. What’s the points fer it?”

Honoka looked it up in the next menu over. “Fifteen.”

“I can live with that. Give me da business.”

“Isn’t there some kind of myth about otter changing into women or something?” Miaka asked, randomly rifling through the tools and other bits stored around the room, still hunting for for a better phallus.

“That’s the one. Mystic Otters are mostly found in Japan. There’s even a maid cafe where all the servers are Mystic in Yokohama. So there’s plenty of info on Racial Features. Kawauso turns a person into a girl at the cost of MP, even turns the guys into girls, which I think is hilarious.”

“Who’s next?” Honoka said, unable to keep irritation out of her voice.

Quinn caught Honoka’s eye, then looked over at Miaka and back again. “Three points in Agility, then dump the rest into size.” The otter dressed as a samurai general could read between the lines. She wasn’t saying anything, though her voice grew concerned. “I spend the most time delvin’. With only a few exceptions, size matters. There’s a reason Johnny has been voted Harvardtown’s Top VIP three years in a row.”

“Fine.” Honoka gave her the sixty-two extra inches (158 cm) and hit confirm, turning to leave without bothering to look at Quinn’s expansion behind her.

“Hey!” Miaka dropped the sextant she was looking through, dodging around Quinn as the otter groaned and doubled in size, groaning in pain as she burst out of her armor and sprawled on the ground in glorious furry nakedness. “What the heck? What is up with you?”

“Go away, I need…I need to be alone.” Honoka pushed away and ducked into the next building, a small barn Honoka planned for horses or possibly cattle.

“If you want to be alone, fine, but maybe after we return from Nihon Oz?” Miaka followed into the building slower, striding to the stall Honoka had rushed into. “What if another attack comes while we’re stuck in here?”

“Go away!” Honoka screamed, crouched in the corner as she muttered something Miaka couldn’t hear, rocking back and forth on her heels as she rhythmically bumped into the wall.

Miaka wasn’t a cuddly girl. She spent her life getting into fights as a teenager, eventually turning that into a career beating other women black and blue. Her marriages were both hot and heavy before they burned out. When passion was gone and tolerance needed to takes its place, Miaka realized she had none. The tomboyish Japanese woman felt the best way to handle a problem was to go a couple of rounds, not hug and make up. So seeing her wife dealing with something she couldn’t punch, Miaka didn’t know how to fix this. It hurt to be so helpless.

“Do you know why I fell in love with you?” Miaka asked softly, standing at the entrance to the stall. “It wasn’t anything about you in particular. That first day I thought you looked cute, so I hit on you. It wasn’t until later that I fell in love.

“I fell in love with how much everyone else loves you. I know that doesn’t make sense, but I’ve had so many bad relationships - not just my failed marriages. When I saw how much everyone adored you, I wanted to be a part of that. I was jealous of what Honoka had, so I desperately tried to find what made Honoka so lovable. I remember watching Diane worship you after a training session one morning. You were tired and sweaty and didn’t look any different than normally, yet when Diane fawned over you, you replied with a simple kiss. I saw her entire world reflecting in those eyes. I wanted that so desperately I ached.

“Then I saw you fight down in the dungeon and realized what it was everyone loved. Everything you do is about making sure others are happy. Whether its sex or saving them from supervillains or picking out what to eat for dinner, you put others before yourself. When I realized that, I decided I would try to do the same, even if I didn’t know how. I jumped in front of a bullet because I wanted to be like you.”

Silence was the only response Miaka received. Honoka had stopped her mutterings and other movement, slumped in the corner. Sniffling a little, the futa girl wiped her eyes and nose with her sleeve and stood on shaking legs. Turning around, Honoka rushed into a fierce hug with the surprised and awkward owl, her feathered arms tentatively reaching around the other girl.

“Thank you,” Honoka whispered, crying softly as she continued to hold on.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Miaka asked, one talon reaching tenderly around to cup the back of Honoka’s head.

“Not right now, but soon.” Breaking apart, Honoka cleared her eyes again and took a huge breath. She didn’t feel a hundred percent, yet she felt able to push through. “Do we know where anyone else is?”

“I saw Banda waving from a tower across the yard, so our next target is probably in there.” Miaka led the two of them outside and pointed at a watchtower opposite the gate Honoka entered from, Banda’s tawny fur visible from one of the windows. “We’ve searched all the outside and smaller buildings. Only place left is that large castle in the center. I’ll talk to Quinn then do another sweep around the yard.”

When the futa daimyo arrived at the watchtower, Dolly was waiting. Her statue’s clothing was also samurai chic’ though lighter, and with a quiver over her back, but no bow. Realizing the clock was ticking, Honoka wasted no time after touching Dolly, asking for numbers and quickly inputting everything into the harmony menu. Meanwhile, thinking about what Miaka said, Honoka was happy to spend points healing the suffering girl’s PTSD for sixteen points and her vaginal nerve damage for three points. Six points in Dolly’s Wisdom brought her out of the negatives, then five Perception and five Strength brought the girl to new heights.

The cheetaur girl was already naturally strong, lithe body able to draw her massive bow with ease even before she recovered atrophied muscles these last few weeks. However, adding Strength points brought a whole new dimension to the woman as not only her upper, womanly body thickened and bulged, but her cat body rippled, then bulged with muscle fibers warring to explode out of her fur. The armor managed to stay on her expanded frame, but it was a tight fit.

“The last two things I want are the Racial Features Eye Of The Sierra and Marked By Rakeesh,” Dolly said, loosening some of the straps of her armor as she pranced in place. “Sierra gives me telescopic sight for ten points and Rakeesh allows me to mark a target and track them anywhere for an MP cost, fourteen points. That should be all sixty points.”

Honoka nodded, hitting the confirm and leading the pair out of the watchtower to the central tenshu. While on their way, Honoka realized she hadn’t been getting tired with all this running, thinking she should have taken the blue pill. Worked in their favor, everything was feeling rushed while in the dream.

“I think yer doorways are too small,” Quinn announced to them when entering the main hall. Her giant otter body was on full frontal display, paws on her hips and smirking at her new hugeness. In fact, the otter promptly scampered next to Banda and enjoyed being a full foot and half (46 cm) taller than the typically larger wife. In fact - while Quinn was now only seven inches (18 cm) taller than Dolly - the otter beastkin was much broader and proportionally larger, her head twice the size of Dolly’s and breasts gaining a total mass around a hundred extra jiggling pounds (45.4 kg).

“Welcome to the club,” Banda said good natured, immune to the various comparisons the other wives made to her size, breasts and muscles. It wasn’t the holstaur didn’t notice, it was that she realized that some women possessed more of one thing and some had less of another. Didn’t stop the others from using Banda good naturedly as the yardstick they measured themselves from.

“Find anyone?” Honoka asked, ready to get the Harmony over with.

“Eve’s down the hall in yer library,” Quinn said, pointing to her left. “Pad’s in a long open room on the second floor, not sure what’s supposed to be there. An’ the only place I couldn’t get through was a narrow set of stairs to the top floor, so’s I reckon Diane’s up there somewhere.”

“Eve it is then.” Honoka was far away from another breakdown, but tension was building again in her chest. Miaka arrived at that moment, flapping down in a graceful landing at the door after her final sweep. Honoka just wanted to get out of here. “You girls have fun, hopefully we’ll be home in a couple of minutes.”

Miaka made to follow anyway, but Honoka waved her off, smiling in a facsimile of reassuring while turning to the vast doors on the left. The library was the largest room in the home and modeled in a more Western fashion than others in the castle. Actually, it was modeled in a more Disney fashion, Honoka just as enraptured as Belle with the draw of delicious books.

“Am I the only one who thought Beast looked sexy before the curse was lifted?” Honoka said out loud, coming around to Eve’s statue sitting on a plush chair, a stack of books on an end table in easy reach. The little goblin woman appeared lost in thought, reading a book with no title or words. She was also dressed in - fittingly - a poofy ball gown. Honoka paused for a moment and grinned, wishing to trade her kingdom for a camera just to capture the gothic imp in this tale as old as time.

“Finally!” Eve shouted while shoving the book to the floor, stretching. “Diane’s nail biting habit has exceeded the finger bleeding point, she’s so worried. I am in just as bad of shape, as I was starting to run out of exposed skin I could draw peni upon.”

“I want this done too, so hit me.”

“Hard and fast, H: you’re a girl after my own black heart. Oh woman!” Eve said suddenly, holding her stomach with her clawed hands and slumping into the chair from relief. “I’m blissfully happy to have some babies in me, but being pregnant is a paaaaain! Am I in a yellow…did I suddenly get transported into an animated musical?”

“Focus,” Honoka said, snapping in front of the distractable woman’s nose with her free hand.

“Like a dog on vomit!” Eve’s language was a colorful as ever. “Hobgoblin Race change with the eldritch option for twenty, the Racial Feature that effects how I perceive time for thirty-five, six Wis, four Luck and I want ten more inches (25 cm) to my vaginal canal. Because let’s be real, you’re getting too big for me and I want to feel every inch. And before I forget, I want to lodge a formal complaint: I feel as if I’m not getting as much dick time as the other wives.”

“You were the one to cancel three appointments last week so you could study for tests, not me,” Honoka reminded Eve, locking in the changes and hitting the confirm button with her mind. “I was even looking forward to you introducing me to that dildo you stuck on a power drill.”

“Yeah, you are gonna love the Screwilizer…whoawhoawhoaIfeelweirdisthisnormalwhydoeseverythinglooksoslowheycanyouhurryandanswerme…”

Honoka had to physically cover the goblin’s mouth - careful of the teeth - but the excitable woman was suddenly gibbering like a futuristic delivery idiot finishing his hundredth cup of coffee, giving Honoka a headache. “The Racial Feature kicked in, you need to adjust like you did when you got the goblin nose back at the Change.”

As Honoka slowly removed her hand, Eve went through a parade of emotions on her face before settling on a grin more trepidation than usually sported on her green face. “That is trippy.” Eve struggled to speak slowly, each word enunciated with more of the metallic twang in her voice than normal. “My ADGD is revving like Gravedigger about to put Bigfoot in his place. When we get me some more points, I think it might be time to knock out that particular problem in my head.”

“Let Diane know,” Honoka admonished, standing and walking straight out the door and up the stairs. Even with all the anxiety and need to leave, the former architect took a moment to look over the details her dreamscape created, running her hand over the bamboo paneling as she searched the second floor for the large room.

When she understood where she was, it all came together. The large room was designed as a collective bedroom in the Japanese family style, a closet on one wall to hold the futon beds and bedding. Curled up in the center was Padmava, clothing that of a servant in medieval Japan. It was a heartwarming scene, because Honoka always imagined this as the children’s bedroom.

“Is everything alright?” Padmava asked kindly when she realized where she was. “I was hoping you’d find Diane first, she’s going crazy back home.”

“I think I know where she is, it makes sense in whatever twisted logic runs this place. In the mean time, give me your specs so we can all go home.”

“I don’t really need much. However, my children got involved, and they had a few things to say about my choices.” Padmava spread her body out as she spoke, encircling most of the room while Honoka kept holding Pad’s lower left hand. “The two Racial Features you are looking for are known as Maya’s Tapestry and Scales of Nagaraja. Nagaraja will make my scales harder and thicker, about the same level of protection as kevlar. And Maya’s Tapestry…” Those naga scales turned a little red at the edges as Pad turned her head away, Honoka now facing a cobra hood. “I hope it doesn’t sound selfish, but it will let me change the color of my scales. Jaya begged me for it.”

Honoka chuckled, added them up. “Twenty-five points down, sixty point to…”

Honoka paused, frantically checking through the other menus. She found something that hadn’t been there before: Fix Preeclampsia, twelve points.

“What?” Pad asked, seeing how worried Honoka go.

“You have preeclampsia,” Honoka said, making the decision without more thought. “Had preeclampsia.”

“Oh my,” the motherly naga said, reaching down to hold her stomach then flinching back when she realized this dream body wasn’t pregnant. “I was at risk with Aruna, but they caught it early. I know it is more common with women having their first pregnancy, I never thought…”

For the first time in a very long time, Honoka nearly swore out loud, the word catching in her throat as she grabbed her temple with her free hand. “It was the de-aging Harmony buff I gave you. It turned back the clock, both the good and the bad. How could…I almost killed you!”

“No!” Padmava was rarely forceful, but she wrapped all her arms around Honoka and lifted her into the air, holding her closely against warm scales. “Never think that! When Arun died I thought I would never feel safe or happy again. You’ve given me a thousand times that joy and besides, everything is alright now.” Bending her neck down to give Honoka a sloppy, snaky kiss with her long forked tongue, Padmava squeezed Honoka all the tighter. “I love you, and soon enough you’ll hold our children in your arms and find out how much they love you.”

“Erk!” Honoka said, the hug from the large naga woman making it difficult to breathe.

Laughing, Padmava loosened up but didn’t let go. Honoka finished placing the adjusted points in scaly arms, Padmava listing the rest of the changes. Fifteen Perception, one Intelligence, fourteen Health, eight Strength, seven Endurance, three Dexterity. Along with the scales and color Features, Honoka experienced the changes this time first hand. At least, the obvious changes: even though Pad was a strong woman before, she had never showed more musculature than a lean fitness model or an amateur dancer. This didn’t change much, her upper body gaining a little more definition. What did change was her tail bulked up significantly, writhing thicker and thicker as hundreds of pounds of muscle burrowed down her length and even pushed her up farther into the air as the girth displaced her a bit. This was quickly followed by her skin suddenly and violently splitting, shiny new scales underneath thickening and erupting outward, her new armored body having a stockier, hardier shape that shined more like glass than the dull reflection of natural snake skin.

“Can the next wife be a seamstress?” Padmava asked as she set Honoka down and started the long process of removing sheddings from her body. “I like sewing as much as the next lacrosse mom, but I can’t keep up with the size changes of an entire harem.” Her previously loose kimono wasn’t completely destroyed, though now tighter on her thicker frame.

“Then you’re going to love what Quinn turned into. I’ll see if DoubleD has a Class option for my next date,” Honoka replied as she turned and walked to the stairs, glad this would all be over in a few minutes.

Three more floors up and another flight of stairs to go, Honoka admitted there was a flaw in her design. The top floor of the tenshu was the master suite, a magnificent opus to her design with doors and windows on all four sides opening into an encompassed balcony, able to see a magnificent view all around. However, if someone climbed a mountain each time to go to bed or change some socks, anyone would quickly hate the architect for putting in so many stairs.

“I’m going to find these plans on my computer and install an elevator,” Honoka groused to herself, a little out of breath as she trudged up the last steps and entered into her dream bedroom. Which…wasn’t quite what she remembered. There was the large bed, some dressers, a bath and shower to the side but aside from the views it was rather empty. Honoka designed this before the Change, before her perversions really took hold in her psyche. There were no toys, lounge couches to get into proper positions, no sex swings or chains or all the other stuff Honoka became used to seeing in a bedroom.

“If I’m coming back to this place every time I harmonize, I’m putting in a sex dungeon.” Shaking her head and walking over to the bed, Honoka pondered how everything had changed for her in only a few months. “When did fifty shades of kinky become my life?”

Lying on the bed, dressed as a sexy geisha with her brief kimono partially and enticingly open, was Diane’s statue. Honoka wanted to spend a few minutes just admiring the view, but this whole adventure needed to end.

“Why was I last?!” Diane cried the moment Honoka touched her, rolling up and grabbing the shoulder’s of her half-African wife. “Don’t you love me?!”

“It was logistics,” Honoka said with a chuckle, only laughing harder when Diane’s face pouted adorably. “Look around, you’re in the master bedroom at the top of a castle. I tried calling out for you to let down your hair, but when that didn’t work I had to take the long way.”

“Hmph!” Diane exclaimed, grudgingly accepting the explanation even if she wanted snuggles in payment. “You have a bird now, you could have allocated Miaka and flown up here.”

“I…” Honoka was stumped, realizing she needed to trial run more of the wives’ abilities instead of just falling back on reliable changes. “I can’t remember who suggested it, but that is something we all need to work on. Can you schedule an Allocation Boot Camp sometime soon so everyone gets a chance to play around in another wife’s skin?”

“I can think of someone’s skin I want to play around in,” Diane said with some hot sultry, crawling well into Honoka’s personal bubble and brushing the exhausted futa’s breasts with her tits.

“Definitely want to squirt some cream in your donut,” Honoka said, putting her hand up and gently pushing Diane away, erection tenting her loose cotton pants, “but I’m not sure what impregnating you in a dream will do. Do you have a dream baby or do you go all Olympian and need me to crack your head open to birth Athena? Please finish up so we can all go home and I’ll give you a proper dicking.”

“Spoilsport,” Diane replied, but she backed off. “Your loss. First, you owe me ten points for winning the Firehose Challenge. I perused through my notes and found an option to make my boobs more elastic in the Body menu, eight points. Use the other two points for Strength. Then you won the Conception Expansion Contest and unsurprisingly you chose to give me five inches (13 cm) in size and five inches in my bust. This leaves me with ninety-five points to spend. First, I want my hunger reduced by 20% selected three times for fifteen points, flight magic for ten points, get my cavities filled for three points because I hate dentists and love deserts. I also want six more inches (15 cm) to my breasts so I can finally be the biggest girl around and then five inches to my booty so you have more cushion for the pushin’. Six more Strength, two Agility because I want to be able to move as a muscled goddess and then eleven Perception so I never need contacts again. That should leave me with just enough points for two new Racial Features: Sexual Overcharge will allow me to control a person’s ability to orgasm - including my own! - for thirty points and then Tail Manipulation sounds kinky, so there goes the last seven points.”

“Why no Greater Succubus Racial option?” Honoka asked while she input the changes and ogled as Diane started expanding out of her clothing.

“I’ve…mmmm…seen what Chastity can do with…oh, ooooh…her Race and I don’t want it,” Plenty of muscle burgeoned Diane into a sexy FBB chiseled by some perverted artist with a penis shaped hammer, but the main event was her J cups filling their way out of the loose kimono towards Vs. With her increased height, this stretched those breasts into monumental sizes, getting absolutely mashed by Diane’s hands. Not kneaded and massaged in a way that a woman liked to have the sensitive and tender bits of flesh worked, the succubus put her considerable muscles into smashing newly flexible chest cushions like a pair of masters slapping and hammering into a batch of mochi. The silky garment was loose enough it spilled open, revealing all the toned and defined body - including her larger junk in the trunk - covered in those delicious freckles Honoka wanted to lick off Diane’s sweaty skin.

Sitting there on the bed, Honoka paused to think about everything that happened, arriving at a strange thought. Miaka was guarding the gate because Honoka felt safe knowing the fierce fighter would protect the family. Dolly was likewise guarding the family, but she had been in a position to watch over them and warn of danger, a role the futa girl was beginning to understand about the young woman. Banda wasn’t just an actual farmer, though her milk provided both food and income for the family, never mind it fit how Honoka saw her as a dependable and hard working woman. Quinn lead the armies, taking up the mantle of guildmaster, Honoka seeing that as impressive leadership. Eve was in the library because Honoka thought of the insightful and witty goblin as smarter and more perceptive than herself. Padmava was in the children’s room because she was the mother of the family. And Diane had been in the bedroom because no matter how inadequate the insecure succubus thought of herself, Honoka would always equate intimacy with Diane.

Not only were each of the wives dressed in the roles Honoka imagined them belonging to, they were placed around the castle and yard to match those roles. Honoka was dressed as the lord of the castle, but the disturbing realization she had terrified her.

When she first appeared in this dream, she started outside the gate.

Am I so much of a Herald I’m no longer a person? Honoka thought darkly, struggling to keep emotions off her face. Or is that because I don’t have a role in this family like everyone else? Am I not needed?

“Hope this gets us all home,” Honoka said, ready to finish all this Harmony nonsense. “But in case I don’t see you: good afternoon, good evening and goodnight.”

Honoka confirmed the changes and blinked.

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

“Hono-chan!”

Even if the scenery changed instantaneously, the effect was disorienting and jarring. Adjusting her eyes to the brighter light, focus took a few seconds to reorient as large furry paws shook her lightly.

“Aunt Shilo?” Honoka blinked a few more times and rubbed her eyes, turning the white blur hovering over her face into the concerned polar bear of her lovable aunt. “What’s going on?”

“I was hoping you could tell us that,” Shilo said with worry in her voice, glancing back at the other wives in the room. “Is it always this…X rated?”

Returning to the present, Honoka’s eyes locked on the gathering of women and wanted to smack herself for not having a camera ready. In fact, there was so much to see Honoka had no idea where to look first. Yet it was when she landed on Abra in the corner that she realized she could look everywhere at once.

“Abra! Want to be human for a bit? Great!” Honoka punched that dial she hit it so fast.

“Whaaaaah!” One second Abra was standing at the table munching on some cookies, the next she collapsed in on herself into a five foot four (163 cm), 34B-24-34 (86B-61-86) caucasian girl with a square, angular face, large mouth and even larger nose, curly brown hair splayed at her shoulder length. She yelped as her towels fell to the ground and she followed them down, the rapid allocation knocking her off her feet.

Similarly, Honoka was pushed completely off the cushion she was on as insectual abdomen burst out of her back and flung her into the air, Shilo growling as she was shoved out of the way. The transforming Honoka would have fallen over, but her wings were already buzzing behind her shoulders and they steadied her balance while stretching into the hard carapace of a wasp. It was a unique feeling, like her body was a blowup doll inside a smaller suit of armor, her body pushing the armor outward to fit the size of her flesh. Her stomach shrank, pelvis moving upward and her chest grew larger. Much larger, as her breasts expanded like inflatable rafts underneath a pier, cleavage trying to burst out like her chitin was a restricting corset.

“This is definitely…disorienting,” Honoka stated, antenna replacing her ears and nose by combining the feedback of sound, smell and vibrations in the air. Her eyes took a complex form, two large compound eyes on either side of her head able to see everything around the room, but only in black and white. It was the three eyes in the center of Honoka’s head that processed color but didn’t process shapes, which meant in a practical sense that Honoka had two visual feedbacks that were layering on top of each other at the same time. Her mind expanded to take in all the information at once and process in real time.

“Ah! I’m on fire! I’m on fire!”

“Why am I blue?”

“Too big! Watch out!”

“Sorry P! My spikes ruined you cushions!”

“This is a lot easier the second time.”

“HAHAHA! I am the queen of boobs!”

“Banda? Are you ok?”

The coolest thing, Honoka admitted, about being an apis was that she didn’t need to spin around to see everything going on. Everything was already in her sights, gaining a front row seat to the Harmony taking place in the room.

Miaka watched her arms as feathers changed from a deep red into shimmering gradients between red and orange. Either she didn’t notice or was distracted, but her beak grew six inches (15 cm) further out of her face and took on the wicked hook of a falcon while hair fell out of her head and was replaced by the spiky plumage reminiscent of a blue jay. In fact, her entire facial structure changed longer and more in line with a raptor instead of the familiar round and flat owlish shape. The other changes in her bird body pushed towels off, her Race adding a bit more than whatever else was harmonized, particularly in her size and Strength.

For one, just as before, when Miaka allocated Strength a lot of it went into her arms and shoulders and some more into her back, her abdomen remaining trim and then only a little more into her legs. This remained constant, her traps eclipsing her neck and arms growing nearly as thick as Banda’s as they bulged and rippled faster than the new feathers grew in. The Phoenix upgrade must have also come with more size, because even sitting down, Honoka gauged the bird girl was six and a half feet tall (198 cm). Other small changes were an increase of bust from a Charisma boost and the talons in her legs thickened and lengthened to double their size, claws sharp enough to leave deep gouges into hard stone flooring.

Which is when all her feathers burst into fire.

“Ah! I’m on fire! I’m on fire!” Miaka shouted, jumping around and giving Honoka a great view of her tail feathers, reaching past Miaka’s knees and trailing her like a mystical firework display. As the frantic woman danced, trying to put herself out, she slowly realized she was burning - and radiating a lot of heat as Honoka felt from nearby - but she wasn’t feeling anything past that. A quick thinking Gwyneth dumped a pitcher on the smoldering cushion Miaka had sat on, though, keeping the fire from spreading. “Sorry.”

Honoka missed Quinn’s change before in dreamland, so she excitedly watched the otter grow from five foot seven inches (170 cm) into ten feet nine (328 cm). This time, though, there were significant differences. For one, the Southern girl was pregnant with twins, one of them weighing hundreds of pounds. So when the woman grew, she toppled forward onto her hands and feet, straining to keep from falling on top of her babies as she stretched and grew. Her tail accidentally swiped into the empty bowl of popcorn, spilling kernels across the floor as her towels fell off and she managed to sit her butt on the floor, finishing the changes as she held her precious cargo in her lengthening arms.

“Why am I blue?” Quinn asked no one, holding up her paw with twitching whiskers. The other changes were the weird ones. For the most part, the woman’s body shape didn’t vary, she was just twice as…twice as Quinn. Then her black fur lightened into a sky blue that exactly matched the color of her eyes, belly fur turning into bright, pure white. On top of her pregnant stomach, with surprising detail, the Japanese kanji 戯 (gi) traced itself in a darker navy blue, the symbol shimmering as if painted on with metallic paint. “An’ why am I now a Care Bear?”

Banda caused the most damage, and Honoka wasn’t sure why: the holsta…er, celestial taurine hadn’t received any direct size with her harmony this time around. The only thing she got involving her height - outside of the eight points of Strength that would bulk her up - was her new Race. Which was more than anyone expected.

That Racial addition was significant. Earlier today, the mighty holstaur stood tall and wide at eight foot ten inches (269 cm). When walking around the human world in Boston, it was common for her to duck and shimmy through doors sideways. Fortunately, Arun built the complex they lived in to accommodate his naga wife, meaning Banda benefited from tall ceilings and wide hallways. Now, Banda shot up to twenty feet (610 cm) with tits the size of sedans, filling a fourth of the room’s space.

“To big! Watch out!” Banda cried, trying to be careful of everyone in the room, unfortunately unable to see past her mammary mountains. Those puppies were so large and full of milk that their sloshing, when she halted her growth, sounded like waves on the seashore. Other changes included her fur turning silver and sprouting thicker along her shoulders and back, hooves developing proportionally larger and transforming into a golden metal. Banda’s horns grew out longer and thicker and matched her hooves, then a freakin’ halo of white light lit brightly over her head, centered between the horns that now turned up more then pointed forward. After all that, a whole bunch of other changes happened throughout her body, bulking her muscles past her previous herculean stature and past the realm of extreme fetish art, her boobs gaining what looked like another couple of feet in size as her skin softened and her waist narrowed and - only because it was out there for the entire room to see - her thick and luscious camel toe plumped and moistened. And so much more, too much to really follow. “What’s that bright light?”

*riiiiiip*

Eve’s transformation was faster than the others, finishing in half the time. The most noticeable should have been obvious in hindsight, but it was that the now hobgoblin woman was no longer shortened by being a plain, vanilla goblin. When the Change happened, all men and women transitioning into goblins lost between two to three feet of height (61-92 cm), becoming one of the smaller common Races. Now that the former WNBA hopeful was a hobgoblin, she quickly sprouted to her natural six foot three inches height (191 cm). However, because this was her natural height and not a Harmony sizing issue, she grew tall while becoming thinner and lankier. Her arms stretched out longer as they thinned and reached her knees, her already long fingers doubled in length to the point she looked as if she could brush the ground with her claw while standing straight up, each hand like a creepy long legged spider. In fact, if she didn’t still look so pregnant, the woman would look unnaturally emaciated and spindly. Her facial structure remained the same, but the rest of her body developed bony spikes out of the oddest of places, the largest collection of them along her spine which tore up the cushion where she sat.

“Sorry P! My spikes ruined your pillow seat!” Eve might have grown taller, but she still lacked the Strength to move with three giant children in her belly. Other parts of her new Race thrust her closer into the realm of Lovecraftian nightmare. Her formerly dark green skin changed into a sickly purple, while the cracks in her goblinoid skin revealing a second, more neon green color underneath turned pitch black. Eyes began glowing from the iris, eventually completely engulfed the entirety of her socket with a peridot green that smoked ambient vapors, an equally sinister glowing smoke wisping out of her mouth as she spoke. “Am I the only one worried about tomorrow’s clothing budget?”

“This is a lot easier the second time.” Padmava went through exactly what happened in the dream world, large translucent flaps of her old skin peeling like an old sunburn. It was exciting and being able to see it from a distance after having felt it up close was exhilarating, but there was so much else going on that Honoka didn’t pay much mind. What did catch her attention was when all the scales on Pad turned bright blue, then transitioned into a crimson red. Nodding to herself, Padmava changed her underscales to a matching gold to go with the red, a common color scheme in the Indian woman’s clothing. Then with a smirk, she lightened the bloated pregnancy of her belly into a sunshine yellow and held herself contentedly.

“HAHAHA! I am the queen of boobs!” Diane completely lost it, reveling in the massive increase of her breasts as well as their new malleability. Which, because of her pregnancy, meant they were now stretching into the W or X range of size. So while her new height put her at six foot four (198 cm) - with breasts sporting much less mass than Banda’s - on her smaller frame the succubus had become a walking pair of tits. The newly crowned queen continued to cackle as she squirted milk out of her dark nipples and reveled in her assets. “Who’s up for a quick screw with Her Mamjesty?”

“Banda? Are you ok?” For all the various transformations happening in the room, Dolly finished hers quickly and peered around. Most everyone was naked, but it was Banda’s extreme enlargement that brought the most drama, causing Dolly to shuck off her own towels and stalk around to the taurine’s head to see if Banda was alright. It sounded as if the Dolly was able to calm the panicking dairy farmer down and prevent any more accidental jostling.

“That was so hot,” Honoka chittered, mandibles flexing madly over witnessing so much in what was really only a pair of minutes. Her lower hands were already drifting down to a sopping honey pot between her legs, barely resisting jilling herself into unconsciousness by her uncle who stood in the middle of the room, critically studying the wives through a red crystal.

“We have a problem,” Akisame said, walking quickly to Honoka while he continued to peer into his crystal.

“What? Is there something wrong with the babies?” Padmava asked, clutching her stomach even as her face pinched. She slowly bent her serpentine body forward, like falling in slow motion. Not in pain, more of a sort of confusion. Other wives in the room found themselves with similar confused faces. Five wives in total, to be precise.

Padmava’s entire body suddenly tensed and her snake tail thrust her hips forward, a gush of water flooding out of her pussy.

As if in sympathy, bad timing, or more likely Status shenanigans, Diane, Eve, Banda and Quinn all also thrust out their hips where they were in the room and expelled gallons of clear liquid at the same time. When the women were finished, the room grew deathly quiet as they all looked to the doctor in the room.

“Your water just broke,” Dr. Akisame Honda said, putting his crystal away and pulling out a pair of blue nitrile gloves from a pocket in his yukata. “You are all going into labor.”