Under Pressure

I took my time eating, and made sure to get something for Layla. I might not be actually rich, but I was definitely doing better than she was at the moment. Gave her a chance to calm down, gave my wife and girlfriend a chance to get food back into the house. Not sure exactly what impression she would get from an empty pantry after what she had in her head, but it couldn't be productive.

She wasn't all that talkative on the way home, either. Truth be told, it was kind of obvious that she wasn't doing well. Her life had gone up in smoke, her job was at risk at a time when she needed the paycheck... and really, to be honest, given the source of the fire insurance was likely to refuse to pay out. Relying on the kindness of strangers was a bad place to be.

Even if she was as certain of that read as she appeared to be.

The ladies had thankfully done us one... or several... better by the time we got home. I know, for a hundred percent fact, that Lucy and Layla could not have normally gotten a second lap of the grocery store, made it home, put it all away, and moved all of Lilly's stuff out of the guest bedroom in the short time we'd given. Much less all of that, plus set it up for a potentially extended stay, and laid out a selection of random clothes in Layla's approximate size. I knew we had them only as a result of previously getting stuff for them as they grew, or figured out their shapeshifting, but I was glad we did.

And that we hadn't gotten around to donating it yet. Must have been distracted.

I left her to get settled in while I got to talk to Lucy and Lilly. Our voices were low, to not be overheard. We may have also made sure the dishwasher was running, providing an extra bit of interference.

"Okay. Ladies. We have another guest. Layla does not know our secret, but suspects that something is amiss. She thinks Lucy and I are secretly rich."

"How did she ever get

that

idea?"

"Something about seeing us regularly for a while and then noticing us both look much better and suddenly have an attractive girlfriend with us."

Lucy had the grace to blush. "It's becoming a bit of a theme for us, isn't it? Not hiding quite as well as we thought we were?"

Lilly smirked. "Let's hope she doesn't go out and watch the same porn sites I did, then. I don't want her to walk in on Jay and try to slap him."

"As I recall, there wasn't any 'try' about it when you did, Lilly." She, thankfully, also had the grace to blush. "That's all academic, though. She's here with nothing to her name. No idea how long it will take to get her back on her feet, but we need to be very deliberate while she's here. Physical affection is fine, she knows Lilly is with us as much more than a roommate. Just not how far it went."

Lilly nodded again. "We know she's razor sharp and observant. Why is she working at a fast food place, again?"

Lucy leaned back, looking at the ceiling. "Good question. Really good question. Also, how she can afford to live around here on a fast food paycheck. City life isn't cheap, and I didn't hear anything about a roommate in the story. I assume there would have been something if there was one, if only because it was a major fire."

I'd missed that detail, and it was an important one. It definitely provided a certain amount of necessary context. A hope that this stay would be a short one, until she got her life back in order and other necessary arrangements as opposed to needing long-term support. "Alright. We can talk to her about that... probably over dinner. Rest of today will be you two helping her settle in. We are saving plenty between my job and the online business, so we can at least get her some clothing if she can't afford it or can't access her funds. Any objections?"

Lucy shook her head no. Lilly, though, closed her eyes in thought. "I don't think it's an objection... but serious question time. Do you think she's a candidate for the last member of our little group?"

The question gave me pause, but only briefly. "Honestly, I don't think so. She's nice, but we don't know her that well. Unless something dramatically changes, this should only be a temporary thing."

On this point, I only blame myself. By then, I should have known better than to make statements like that.

--

It was perhaps 36 hours later that the first complications began to arise. Saturday went roughly as planned, much to all our surprises. Layla's questions about how we could possibly have had anything that was anywhere close to her size were brushed off by comments about our kids, away at college or living their independent lives. I could tell something was not at all adding up in her head at that one, but it was the best we had. Dinner was slightly improvised as well, given that any plans had been made very sketchily that same day. It was Layla who saw the ingredients we had in the pantry and suggested a puttanesca, which Lucy immediately got to preparing. Lilly... distracted Layla from the stove. Pretty sure she knew what we were doing, but despite her stubby fingers clenching a bit she decided to let it go.

That evening, Lilly was up and ready to go again, and so we did our best to make each other scream in pleasure while Lucy did her best to not scream with laughter. I think we all succeeded.

Layla kept giving us the oddest glances the next day. She kept on stopping in random places and looking around. At the furniture. At the closets. I could see her stop and sniff the air as she passed in front of the room I shared with my wife and girlfriend. When she, perhaps inevitably, tripped over her own two feet and face planted in our kitchen, she stole a glance underneath the tables and the fridge.

If she hadn't hit the floor hard enough to get the wind knocked out of her, I would have thought it was on purpose.

Lucy and Lilly were in our bedroom planning something or another, the hours starting to move onward towards dinner, when she stopped me in the hallway. "Mr. Jay, who are these people?" She was looking at some of the pictures we had up on the walls. The ones showing some faces and memories that Lucy and I cherished. I looked at them, too, and smiled. The warm feeling they brought to my heart is not really possible to describe to those without children of their own.

"Our kids. Our youngest, over on the left, is in college at State. Doing well, too. The older two are already off on their own. Visited over the winter, it's hard to get everyone in the same spot sometimes."

She smiled a bit. "I can only imagine. Now, who are these two? Your folks?"

I looked at the picture she indicated, and felt my heart sink a bit. Not from any kind of shame, but from what we had just let her see. The picture in question was an older couple, obviously in love as they held each other around the waist and stared into each other's eyes. It was taken at their renewal of wedding vows.

It was Lucy and I, before the transformations that had changed our lives. Nowadays, even in her public face she looked much more well-kept than we once were, her body working much better. Me? I couldn't shapeshift to hide things. I was about four inches taller and 35 pounds of muscle more massive than the person in the picture. This didn't count the skin rejuvenation... or the fact that my dick was over twice the size as it was then (which, notably, was not so easily visible from the picture).

That... there were a lot of feelings there. We were happy together, even before our life together turned the way it had. Before I found that first pressure point by accident, before I did the research that led to the others. We were undoubtedly still deliriously happy together, with everything that had happened, but also undoubtedly we were not the same as we used to be. It was a heavy thought.

I realized that I'd zoned out. No help for it, we actually had pictures of our parents up elsewhere in the house. "That's actually Lucy and I."

She did a double-take. "No way! There's no way that's you two! You look like completely different people! How much surgery did you freaking pay for to transform like that?"

I shook my head. "Would you believe none? Both of us had one too many mandatory surgeries to want to go under the knife by choice. That picture was taken not too long before we figured out our current self-care."

"You've gotta write down whatever it is you're doing. Like, this is some Hollywood secret kind of magic. Heck, soon as I get settled, I wanna know how you did it."

Okay, there was a LOT to unpack there. Layers upon layers. Offhand, I wondered how many starlets had benefited from this treatment or one like it. The last point that finished their transformations hadn't been on the site I found, but even the first few had dramatic effects.

"State of mind has a lot to do with it, so we need to get you settled either way. Any word back about your home?"

She sighed. It was a frustrated kind of thing. "Initial investigation has me at fault. I mean, they're right, but I was hoping for 'inconclusive.' My homeowner insurance is only going to pay out a quarter of what it would have otherwise, and a lot of the other stuff is going to be reduced or refused. I know I'm clumsy, it's why I got the insurance in the first place. Seriously, my tablet would have been covered better if I'd thrown it out the window to smash itself on the pavement on the way out!"

Her voice had risen a bit near the end. Halfway to shouting, halfway to hysterics. I could understand it, really. More than once in my life had I done all the right things and gotten no results. "It isn't over yet, Layla. Do you have other savings or reserves?"

She slumped. "I really don't. That house is... was... inherited. Made enough for taxes, food, and upkeep other than that... barely. Slowly working through college remotely. No way I'd be able to afford to live walking distance from work otherwise."

"Couldn't afford a vehicle?"

"Couldn't pass a driving test. I'm just peachy on the written portions, but I almost made it out of the parking lot before I went over a curb and my instructor cut me off."

How was it even POSSIBLE for one person to be this clumsy? "I see. We can chat more over dinner, Layla, but you sound like you need to take a moment to re-center. It's easy to be scared and frustrated, but we'll figure things out."

---

"Ladies, we have a couple of problems."

The situation was one that needed explaining. My wife was also horny, though, so I found myself explaining this as Lucy was sucking me down balls deep. She looked up at me and raised an eyebrow, her mouth being otherwise occupied. I took the hint and continued.

"First thing's first. She is basically broke, and insurance probably isn't going to help much. Finding her a place to live is going to be a challenge bordering on impossible. Even for us."

Lilly was thinking hard, as she pressed her presently-enormous breasts into my back. "I was afraid of that. This city is a lot of things, but 'cheap' isn't one of them. That will take some time. You mentioned that there was another potential problem, though?"

My response to her was delayed a moment as Lucy suddenly pressed her supernaturally talented tongue against two different points on my incredibly oversized dick, ones she knew drove me wild. Combined with a low hum, the act drove me instantly over the edge. My orgasm was a longer and more powerful process these days than it used to be, as jet after jet of my cum disappeared down her throat.

It also took me a moment to catch my breath. "Yeah. Layla is definitely suspicious that we have more going on. She was comparing us to our photos on the walls, Lucy. That's... a lot more than a surgeon, a chiropractor, and a skin care routine can account for. Not saying the cat's out of the bag, but the bag is meowing."

Lucy pulled back her head, reluctantly letting my length go with a small popping sound. "That was fast. I don't think anyone else even noticed those pictures, other than Lilly... and Lilly never did the comparison thing."

"To be fair, Jay hadn't transformed as far yet. He can't hide it like we can."

I pulled my pants up. "That's all besides the point. I think I delayed her a bit, mentioned that it was a self-care thing and that state of mind was a part of it. We have until she gets herself straightened out again before we're likely to have to worry about it."

Very suddenly, both Lucy and Lilly looked sharply at the bedroom door and transformed back from their unbelievably sexy preferred forms to the ones they used as their more public faces. I heard it, then, the creaking sound of a door that needed just a touch of cleaning and lubricant. One that opened inward, and so must have been brushed by someone standing on the outside of it. Considering that there were exactly four occupants in our apartment, and three were presently inside the room getting dressed again after a threesome. That left exactly one who could be on the other side of that door.

"Layla. Have you been watching, or just listening?"

The door creaked the rest of the way open. I heard a couple of heavy footsteps come into the room, as my wife and our girlfriend got their pajamas back on. "Um. Listening." I turned to look at her as she looked around. "This doesn't make sense. I know you were having sex in here. Why can't I smell it? What do you mean by 'transformed'? How many others have you done... whatever this is... with?"

Lilly rolled her eyes at the ceiling and muttered "meow" under her breath as I tried to mentally compose my response.

"You've noticed that there are a few things around this home that are not really normal, Layla. I will tell you that this is absolutely correct, at least as far as it goes. I will also tell you that it does not go anywhere near as far as the reality of it. Besides the people in this room, there were three other attempts. None were completed."

She stood, silently. Looking around the room. Looking at my wife and I, at our girlfriend. At the computer, briefcase, and bookshelf in the corner. At a million details I couldn't be sure how she was prioritizing. "Just... tell me, Mister Jay. How much of what you told me earlier was true, and how much of it was just to keep me from asking questions about this way-too-perfectly-kept home and your magical-seeming makeovers?"

"No surgeon or chiropractor had anything to do with it, but it absolutely has a lot to do with the state of mind while going through the process. I also know, for fact, that if I told you what went into it and the full extent of what happens right now, you would call me both a liar and a lunatic." There was silence in the room for the moment. Lucy and Lilly both knew the truth of the statement. Layla was the one who had to give it thought. We just had to wait for it.

In the end, it took a couple of minutes for her to make up her mind how to respond to that. "Considering I thought it was drug money and I was already looking for a quick escape? Hit me with your best shot."

---

"... so that's the process."

"A magical set of massages, pressure points, and intense sex induce a complete physical transformation in your subjects, did I hear that right?"

"Yep."

"I'd say that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard, but I'm the one who just accidentally burned down their own house. You're in close second."

You know, I really couldn't blame her for that reaction. "And that was without the

really

unbelievable parts. Get yourself put together and stable. If you want proof, the first one's free. AFTER you are fully settled. If you want out, we'll help you find a different place."

"Well, YOU obviously believe it. I didn't see Lucy or Lilly even blink, either, so either they are world-class improvisational actresses, hooked into the delusion, or what you said is real. I'm not sure which is worse. I don't have anything worth stealing and I wouldn't make a very good slave, so I guess I'll still sleep here and use the clothes you managed to get together for me. Not too much of a choice otherwise."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." My wife was back in her bathrobe, as comfortable as it was possible for her to be in this public face. "Still, he isn't lying. I didn't marry a liar, and since he wants to keep me he never became one. Believe me when I say that I understand how hard it can be to believe. I was the one he figured it all out with."

"Still, what we all need is rest," I interjected. The conversation felt like it was about to start going in circles, and at this moment there were no good outcomes to continuing it. "You have work tomorrow, so do I. Lucy and Lilly are going to finish getting this place set up for you and try to check up on the claims if you let them. Plus all the little life details. Feel free to chew on what we shared for now. Sound good?"

I could almost hear the ellipsis over Layla's head as she thought through it. In the end, she agreed, shaking her head in disbelief. As she did, the three of us breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay, then. We all need some sleep after that. Looks like we're safe for now."

Lilly was looking at the door with some interest. "Have you changed your mind yet about whether she's a candidate to join us?"

"Let's just say the chances are going up. Now come on, we have a long week ahead of us."

Lucy, apparently not satisfied with earlier, delayed things for another fifteen minutes or so. Notably, we all slept extremely well afterwards.

---

The week was... well, it was a week. I taught about how to code websites and issued a few certification vouchers to students who earned them. Layla got back to work as well, shakily returning to her routine and replacing crucial pieces of her life with what alternatives she could afford. She returned to her online classes, too, which Lucy very much could help with tutoring her through.

That Wednesday I got a knock on my office door. It was between classes, just after lunch, and I had been taking a moment to get ahead of my grading and planning priorities. The advent of shared documents often meant that students could actively watch as I red-penned submissions. Some described it as deeply insightful, and that it helped them understand what I was marking down. Those tended to end up doing well in my classes. Others described it in terms of Lovecraftian horror. This group tended to do worse.

The man who walked in was not one of my students. Short, skinny, and in nondescript clothing, he was nonetheless significantly older than most I saw. I tended to remember the older students, especially these days, since they required a slightly different approach. "How can I help you?"

His voice was rough and worn-sounding. "Are the rumors true?"

"You are going to have to be more specific, sir."

"Are you the one who managed to complete the Process? Who discovered how to fully unlock the inner power of ascension?"

"I really have no clue what you're talking about." A blatant lie, to be sure, but my own recent enhancements helped me deliver it with a straight face.

His own look grew angry. "I've been hunting for you for months! You are different now, your body works differently. You have obviously benefited from it. Taller, more powerful, more commanding. Surely you've noticed it!"

I shook my head. "Look, I'm not that old. This is a chiropractor, a masseuse, improved diet and exercise, and a skin-care routine. You're the fifteenth person or so to accuse me of surgical assistance."

"It isn't surgery! What sequence of pressure points did you follow? Might? Authority? I have to know before I pursue my own! I have to know how you completed yourself!"

My improved ability to recall flashed back to those extensive notes I took, what seemed like a million years ago. The dozens and dozens of pressure points there that I ended up using 20 of. The ones noted to be for pleasure and relaxation. The accidental way I discovered the one that was not on the site I found. The fact that I had never used a single one of those points, merely benefitted from the reflected power while using them on my wife and girlfriend. I still managed to keep the look of confusion on my face, keep my tone questioning. "I still don't know what you're talking about. If you need to know about pressure points, the same place I go for my chiropractor does reiki. I know a few of those pops made me feel absolutely amazing, you should try it."