Changing it up, making it more of a personal message here from now on. Firstly, welcum back! Moving forward, Lit will continue to receive updates, but they will be two months behind...or more, depending on all kinds of factors. My life isn't slowing down, so stick with me to see when they chapters drop. Lots of exciting things happening!
PREVIOUSLY ON BM: All of Book 1. You should read it first. Seriously, who starts in the second book?
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Chapter 40: The Week After
"This is not normal."
"Ya think, Velma? Wanna add a
jinkies
for good measure?"
Diane, in shock more than anything, wearing only a matching pair of red panties and bra, gripped onto her stomach as if she didn't know what to do.
Gripped her
pregnant
stomach.
Very
pregnant.
Like, nine-months-with-triplets pregnant.
Both Honoka Jefferson and her first wife, Diane, were in Honoka's bed - wide awake now - on an early Friday morning, August 29th. The covers were thrown to the floor in a panic. Honoka wore an oversized brown shirt with a faded spaceship on the front and the caption
Browncoats Do It In The Verse.
A month ago the shirt had been
more
oversized than now, but the twenty-six year old mixed African and Japanese American woman was experiencing a late growth spurt. As was common since the Change for her, the black skinned hermaphrodite sported a painful, throbbing, oozing-with-precum, sixteen inch (41 cm) long and thirteen inch (33 cm) circumference, veiny, uncircumcised, tilting upward and slightly curved penis shaft growing out where the clitoris would be on a normal woman. This flesh column resided above a damp, engorged-with-lust yet otherwise normal vagina. Typically, the Beast (Honoka's pet name for her black man-sausage) would invade her thoughts with mounting need (or a need to do some mounting), but right now Honoka had other problems. Pregnant problems.
"Did you, I don't know, accidentally eat something?" Honoka asked, flustered to the point of asking stupid questions.
"Does this
look like a food baby?!"
Diane shifted around - trying to move into a more comfortable sitting position - failed, and growled in frustration. Shooting her bright green eyes up at her wife, Honoka was hit with a full-powered hormonal glare. "A little help?"
Honoka started, blinked, then leaned over to help the irritable redhead succubus sit comfortably. Or tried. Honoka was five foot four inches (163 cm), four inches (10 cm) taller than a month ago, yet she still resembled a recovering anorexic; without Status help, moving a five foot eleven (180 cm) pregnant woman was exhausting. Emerald green wings and tail only made it more difficult. The brokenness of the mattress from a surprise event last Monday morning made it more difficult.
"I'm no expert," Honoka said, flopping back onto her side of the bed, giving Diane's stomach a more critical examination, "but isn't there supposed to be something a bit more...gradual in the process?"
On Sunday this week, an orgy in the basement gym of their large Indian styled home occurred. Hundreds of feet beneath formerly-Harvard and twenty-four days after the five year anniversary of the aptly named Change - bringing to earth fantastical Races and Classes and blue-colored Status menus - a group of eight married women performed their spousal duties following a fun movie night. The main event was Honoka copulating with Diane for the first unprotected time with the express intention to have a child. It was possibly the happiest moment of both their lives, made better with mind blowing orgasms, magical growth of all sorts and enough milk and cum to fill a water tower.
Sunday. Five
days
ago.
"It's not like I've been secretly pregnant for the last nine months," Diane replied, her frustration subsiding and replaced with worry. "We've seen each other every day since we met. We went to bed
four hours ago:
both you know and I know I was as flat as a washboard last night." Holding out her hands, she looked down at herself as if this was some kind of prank. "Unless you have a better theory, I'm calling Status shenanigans."
Both of them grew silent, giving the Beast side-eyed glares as if it was
his
fault. It was, but blaming the penis seemed adolescent.
"Next step is obvious." Honoka gave the succubus a quick kiss, rolled off the bed, picking up her phone and walking towards the door. "Either a healthy baby or magical mega cancer is in there: both mean you are going to a hospital."
"Mega cancer?!" Diane squeaked, the idea this might be something other than a baby never occurring to her.
Honoka winced, giving an apologetic glance back toward the bed. "Sorry, guess the joke wasn't funny." Checking her phone, the black futa peeked out the door to see if there were any underaged children waiting outside. "It's five-thirty right now. Be ready to leave at six. I'm going to wake up everyone, eat a few boxes of cereal, get a quick handjob, then we are heading to a hospital even if we need Banda to carry you there. Loves."
Diane blew a kiss and Honoka walked out, both of them furiously texting. However, even if Honoka was trying to sound unworried, this new development terrified her inside.
********************
♫ Let's do the time warp again ♫
♫ Let's do the time warp again ♫
4 days previous
Monday, Aug 25th
"Who's texting you?" Eve asked Miaka, the little goblin crawling on top of a chair to try and peek. Eve was rocking a lot of fishnet with a black T, black denim shorts snug over top the body stocking. She also decided to break out her piercings collection for her ears and nose and compliment everything with black eyeliner and lipstick over her green skin.
"My parents," Miaka replied, her voice having the same inflection as if saying
someone just found the body.
Originally
hired
to train the wives in combat, Miaka's clothing selection was limited until she could retrieve the rest of her things: few of the wife menagerie had stylish clothing to match wings, talons and bright red and blue feathers. Despite these shortcomings, everyone did their best to share. Currently wearing a loose white tank with clashing yellow bikini top tied in enough knots to keep her modest despite being made for much larger breasts. Below, she had a long white skirt from Honoka. The feathers underneath glowed fluffy after shampooing a bajillion times in the last couple of hours, the aftereffect of surviving an immersive jizz bath.
The owl woman groaned and she pushed breakfast out of the way, sinking into the table. "They want me to come home to discuss my marriage." It really wasn't the owl woman's morning. She wanted to jump Honoka's bone last night but both of them were tired after the orgy. Then in the middle of the night both women were rudely awakened from the first wet dream Honoka experienced, engulfing the two in semen and definitely putting a stop to any more sleeping or hanky panky.
"Crappy crap!" Dolly exclaimed, dropping a waffle with a plop of syrup. "I forgot ta tell my pa I'm married!"
Honoka smirked, it was adorable how Dolly's accent got thicker the more flustered she got. After living for months as a prisoner and repeatedly raped in that time, Dolly would have returned to nothing if it wasn't for Quinn putting all her things in a storage shed. Today, the cheetaur was dressing full Centorea: untucked style, buttoned white blouse with long sleeves and her entire cheetah backside draped in a black skirt. Honoka loved the look but wondered if the muggy heat of Harvardtown would push her to lighter clothing options soon. More worrying was Dolly's mental state despite the lighthearted banter at the breakfast table.
"Where do they live?" Padmava asked Miaka politely, coordinating Jaya and Aruna to collect breakfast's dishes with her dark purple and bright yellow chevroned tail. The cobra naga wore a sari done in blues which Honoka had only recently learned was sewn by her snakey self. The speed at which everything happened meant the black woman was still gathering information about her wives and it was only after Pad worked altering Banda's and Quinn's clothing to fit their new sizes did Honoka learn the naga had a sewing workshop in one of the rooms.
*bzzz*
"Osaka." Miaka grabbed her phone, fumbling because her hand still missed a few fingers. Tapping with claws, her face took on what Honoka reasoned was a frown under the beak and feathers. "And that's my dad telling me my flight departs in four hours. Uuuug! How's a girl supposed to get laid?!"
"I have a meetin' at FDR this mornin', I'll drop ya off at Logan but we gotta scoot!" Quinn said, shoving the last waffle into her otter muzzle and chugging holstaur milk as she stood and strode to the door. Normally the dark furred otter beastkin walked around in bikini tops and daisy dukes, but the meeting must have been important because she was borrowing a conservative(ish) blouse from Diane and a long skirt from Honoka with a stretchy waist. The shirt lacked most of the back but Quinn paired a cream blazer she planned to wear over it, though it was going to be obvious to everyone the blazer no longer fit her improved figure.
Miaka resigned to fate and followed without much energy, giving Honoka a quick farewell kiss and passing the two unusually quiet wives. Banda methodically shoveled a salad bowl of oatmeal into her mouth, yet there was something in her eyes and brow that was triggering a wifey instinct in Honoka. The massive holstaur was draped in a ridiculous poncho and gym shorts because until Pad could finish her alterations nothing was going to fit Banda's frame.
"Who's on milking this afternoon?" Honoka asked, tapping her phone awake while nabbing another waffle from the center stack and slathering butter on. The small black woman was still in her First Breakfast outfit of matching pink sports bra and bike shorts, what she wore as Jaya crammed the Ymirian full of massive food requirements Honoka needed every day in the basement gym. While the unmistakable bulge of the Beast broadcast to the room from inside stretchy pink fabric, First Coitus happened an hour ago and looked only mildly obscene in its flaccid state.
"That's me," Eve piped up, finished with her plate and helping move it to the sink where Jaya and Aruna busily rinsed.
