Becoming Monsters

Honoka was having the time of her life. Something Padmava didn’t show off was one remarkably phamtastic ability she possessed. If Honoka owned this superpower, the young woman probably wouldn’t stop using it. The Racial Feature Blessings Of The Aspect Of Maya didn’t do a whole lot, but what it did do was freaking wicked!

“Wooooo!!” Honoka hollered, upside down, all four arms pointing towards the floor far below her as she raced her fifty-one-foot long body across the ceiling of the gym. Maya was a spider goddess in the Hindu religion (technically an aspect of Shiva and a spider because she watched over the Web of Fate, but it was the only thing that made sense, according to the internet). And even if it felt like she sprinted across a sandy beach in relative difficulty - already winded after doing this for only a minute - Honoka found she booked it as a giant snake. She must be clocking over thirty miles an hour, air stinging her eyes, but she didn’t care. This was more fun than any roller coaster the black woman ever rode on.

♫ Spider-snake, Spider-snake ♫
♫ Does whatever a spider-snake can ♫
♫ Sticks her dick, in all her wives ♫
♫ Allocates, to any size ♫
♫ Look out! Here comes the Spider-snake ♫

“Will you stop singing and get down here!” Diane yelled from the ground, pacing while she typed into her tablet.

“Yes, mom!” The Racial Feature had enough potency, control and magical physics-breaking properties that Honoka shot towards the ground in a perpendicular line, her tail remaining latched to the ceiling and only peeling off at a controlled decent to prevent falling down all at once. It was only around thirty-five feet to the ground, plenty of tail to let her down safely like a bungee cord. However, when she touched the floor, she realized her mistake.

“Oh, crap.”

Honoka’s body was on the ground, supported by the base of her tail. The rest of the snake remained vertical in the air and held onto the ceiling with just the very tip. It felt like hanging from the monkey bars by only a few fingers in one hand: the tail was coming down. Mass, gravity and her own inability to plan ahead were about to cause Honoka some severe injury. Gritting her fangs, Honoka let go and tried to coil the tail as quickly as possible while the rest of it fell down. Honoka didn’t have the strength to stop it dropping like a wet noodle the length of a bus.

Her plan kinda worked, at least it didn’t feel like any of her bones broke, but all that scaled flesh hitting downward was like getting trampled in a mosh pit. Bruised in body parts and organs she didn’t possess an hour ago, Honoka rolled over and tried to slither herself across the gym to Diane, but it was excruciating.

“I’m not giving you a potion for that, gotta save your tolerance for stamina and mana.” Diane didn’t seem very smug, but the smugness leaked through. Mostly she looked frustrated while she continued to pace and type in her tablet.

“When did you become the adult?” Honoka asked, unfairly and with some bite. She regretted saying it the moment it hissed out of her mouth.

Diane stopped, frozen in place. The others still down in the gym remained further away and didn’t hear what Honoka said, but they sensed something and the room grew quiet. Diane’s back was to Honoka, though her tail went limp and her wings shook. Without saying anything, the succubus dropped her tablet and ran towards the stairs.

Honoka didn’t know what to do. Without thinking, she slithered forward frantically and wrapped her arms around her wife. Diane struggled and almost broke free - even as a giant snake, Honoka still lacked muscle and Diane remained the stronger - but Honoka held on and wrapped her tail round and round the other woman. The ginger succubus stopped struggling and resigned to being held, crying though unable to look at Honoka.

“I’m so sorry, that was awful to say, I love you.” Honoka coiled tight and did not want to ever let go, her scales able to caress the warm succubus skin underneath.

“I-I don’t kn-know what else t-to do!” Diane cried, unable to control herself. “I d-don’t want you to l-l-leave me!”

“Why would I leave you?” Honoka tried to catch up to the middle of a conversation without any context.

Sniffling, Diane improved a little and finally looked at Honoka with her vivid, kelly green eyes. “Now that you collected all these women, you don’t need a slut some pervert treated like a used condom who then spent most of her life in a whorehouse passed around like the cumbucket I am. I’m also not as muscled or titted as Banda or have useful mechanical skills like Eve, or cast spells like Quinn or even crawl on walls. I know it is going to happen someday. You’ll look at me and realize I’m not worth it and you’ll collect someone better. I’m just trying to stay useful so you k-keep me.”

Honoka held her wife tighter, letting her cry before holding her at arm’s length and giving her best effort at a snake’s smile. “Do you really think I’m that shallow?”

Diane’s lip quivered. By this time, the rest of the wives gathered around.

Honoka looked around at everyone. “I think it’s time for some openness here.” Pointing at Banda, she asked, “What do you want out of this family?”

Surprised, the holstaur’s reply was honest and firm. “I lived my life as part of a tribe that only sees me as another cog, another warm body. I want a place where I can contribute and accomplish something.”

“What do you fear the most?”

“Being forgotten,” Banda replied, her voice hard like granite. “Of becoming Wife #3 instead of a person.”

Honoka pointed at Eve. “What do you want?”

“It might sound shallow, but it means the world to me: I want to become a major contributor to the finances. My mom raised me as a single parent and lived most of her life on welfare. I can’t do that, I need to prove to myself that I’m not here as a freeloader.”

“What do you fear?”

“Being alone.” The little goblin chuckled as she glanced around. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little clingy. I need you all around me, even if you all just let me stay in the same room while you watch TV. Being by myself terrifies me.”

Honoka pointed at Quinn, but the otter girl already began her spiel. “I Changed when I was thirteen. I went to school like this an’ found I was treated differently ‘cause I wasn’t considered human. When I learned about guilds an’ dungeons, me an’ Dolls promised we’d change the world.”

Quinn paused, her face falling as she spoke softer. “Then Dolls got taken an’ I didn’t know what ta do. I met y’all an’ suddenly everythin’ could go back ta my plans and changin’ people an’ such. It all sounds childish an’ naïve when I say it out loud.

“I think what I’m gettin’ at is I still want ta do that, fix the system, yet I need ta be realistic. No woman can do somethin’ so big alone. I need all y’alls help, so I’m askin’ if it would be alright if I help the family by runnin’ the guild?”

“That sounds like a different discussion, though I don’t see any immediate problems with it.” Honoka nodded, flicking her tongue out to taste the room. “And what do you fear?”

“Being a failure. I care about the people I love. If I let them down - if I let any y’all down - I’d rather die.”

“I already told you what I want,” Padmava shouted from the stairs. It looks like she came down while Quinn spoke and nobody noticed. “I’ll repeat the basics for Diane, though. I lost my husband and would soon lose the ability to care for and protect my children. You all allow me safety and security, which I think you’ll value more after you have your own babies.” She wore a borrowed t-shirt from Diane and PJ bottoms from Honoka, though they both ill-fit her frame. The lovely Indian mother removed them when she reached the ground floor, which Honoka took as the cue to allocated back. Padmava inhaled a short breath before continuing in her deeper, hissing voice. “Because what I fear the most is anything happen to Jaya, Aruna, my future children with Honoka and any other child this family gains.”

“I want love,” Honoka said simply, herself again and looking up at Diane. “For years, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Sure, I craved to know about my Race and Class, I enjoy designing and building things. When I clear away all the distractions, I was searching for a way to connect with someone...someones, apparently.

“I fear losing control of myself, of being a slave to either someone finding out about me and using me or to my own problematic Race and Class. I fear pushing any of you away because I don’t know if I’ll still be the same me tomorrow.”

The room grew still, everyone waiting on Diane. Diane, for her part, was an ugly crier and looked an absolute mess. Hair disheveled, glasses askew, eyes puffy and streaks all down her face. No longer bawling, she stood naked and looked vulnerable and afraid.

“I...did not have a very happy childhood. My parents died, I was put into foster care, I was kidnapped and chained in a basement by a sicko for years, sexually abused. When the Change happened, I killed him then nearly starved to death. I swore I would never be used by anyone again, which is when I began working for Solomon Church and found out his chains may be lighter, yet they were just as binding.

“I’ve seen psychiatrists. I understand I never mentally survived that basement. I’m high functioning, I can fake it really well, but I’m not normal. When Honoka met me, and I felt that empathic link between us, for the first time in my life, I felt whole. What I fear is losing that connection, becoming less of a person. What I want is more primal: I want Honoka.”

Looking around, noticing everyone there for her, Diane smiled. “I do love you all, I hope you can love me too. You all are important to Honoka so I will put forth every effort every day to work and build this family. Maybe the longer we keep this family together, I can heal, become a better person. However, for today, Honoka is the center of my universe and I might be a touch obsessive.”

Impulse as ever, the first one to start was Banda. Stepping forward and enveloping Diane in a massive hug, she gave a sloppy bovine kiss and said, “I love you.” The others all followed, each repeating their affirmations of love until Honoka was left.

“I love you,” the young woman said, also hugging the distraught succubus while giving her a tender kiss. “And I always will.”

“Well, that was all kinds of Halmark Channel,” Eve announced after she clapped her hands together, “but there is a lot of naked in here. I, for one, could go for an orgy.”

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

Eve was serious, running around, slapping butts and trying to push them all into the mood. Diane would have none of that. Grabbing her tablet where she dropped it - grimacing at the single crack running down the screen - Diane herded everyone to the weights section of the gym and explained what she wanted.

“Honoka’s new Class Feature is stewing in my thoughts, there may come a time when she will need to pick and choose certain parts about us to assemble a combat Voltron. We need to become ready to work around missing some attribute scores or Race Features. So let’s start simple.” Diane looked over a spreadsheet and added up some numbers. “Hono-chan, put some weights on that bench press and see what your baseline is.”

Honoka would have, but she received plenty of help and soon she lay under a fifteen-pound bar without any other weights. Knowing her limits, Honoka brought the bar smoothly up, down to her chest, then slowly pushed it up and racked it. Sitting up, she got some claps and blushed at the attention.

“I know my body doesn’t look it, but I used to spend a lot of time at gyms.” Honoka stood from the bench and did a few stretches in her arms. “It’s been years, yet I understand the proper techniques. I can probably bench that weight around six or seven reps before I’d be done.”

“Alright, time for the show.” Diane indicated with a flourish of her wings. “There are thirty points of Strength you can allocate between us. Let’s see what thirty-five points look like.”

Honoka was ecstatic to try this, skipping over to the nearby mirror wall and posing in a classic front double bicep. At the moment, there was nothing, but she felt herself begin to harden and grow wet at the anticipation. Pulling up her Status, she found Mímir’s Draught made picking and choosing what she wanted intuitive like it read her intentions. Rather than going through everyone’s menu and finding the specific slot, an unfamiliar little menu dropped beneath the names and listed straight Attributes and a slider. Focusing on Strength, she cranked that to 100% and cackled maniacally while her muscles grew.

It began with her vascular system as if her body built the foundation for her strength by flooding it with nutrient-rich blood. Veins popped all over, each beat of her heart pounding in her chest to feed the increase. And not just tiny blood vessels, thick ridges that grew and bloated. In only a few seconds, Honoka felt as if she was pumped full of three times as much blood as her body previously held before her muscles twitched. In previous allocations, her body changed in sections, each part compounding on one another. This time, with a lurching wave traveling up and down underneath her skin, the black woman felt all of herself growing. She didn’t know where to look or focus, it happened so fast she wished she possessed more eyes or that it would take longer. What she did feel was the power.

“Oh yes, YES!!” Honoka was living her fantasies, each wave bulging her further and further outward in hard, chiseled perfection. In ten seconds, she became the strongest, most cut woman Honoka ever laid eyes on. In twenty seconds, she reached such absurd musculature Honoka would be hard-pressed to find many fetish artworks that would paint larger than her dimensions. Her thighs grew so outrageously huge they pushed her legs apart, her biceps so mountainous she could no longer bend her elbows more than ninety degrees. At thirty seconds, she stopped and let her arms down, resting at forty-five degrees because of the sizes of her lats.

All over her body, cords of muscle strained within her skin to stay inside. Honoka was afraid if she got a paper cut, she would explode when the high tension pressure of her body violently burst. Honoka couldn’t move her head from side to side, her traps eclipsing and rising above her neck. Her biceps alone appeared larger than bowling balls with an equal amount of mass in her triceps. She lacked the ability to glance past pectorals so massive they each looked like she stuffed a pillow under her dark skin. Without even moving, they twitched and jumped on her chest with the power of diesel pistons.

Honoka felt so erect at that moment and needed relief so badly, she tried to reach down for a handjob, but the muscled mass she transformed into prevented her from moving. She looked comical, her throbbing and dripping dick appearing smaller than it usually did against her colossal self but she couldn’t reach past the writhing mass she had become. Incredibly frustrating, the ultimate cock block: she became her fetish and the reality was a body this layered in muscle could no longer appropriately move and bend.

“Hold up, Hono-chan! Give us a second!”

Breaking away from her lust for a moment, Honoka saw in the mirror the wives were in trouble. First, she tried to turn around, then settled for a kind of hobbling back and forth on her bulging legs to look at what happened. Banda was on the floor, pitched forward from the weight of her breasts when she lost her muscles. The holstaur still looked big and tall, but the majority of her mass had left her body, making her hundred-and-fifty-pounds of boobs too much to carry, throwing her into the stone. The other women helped the holstaur move into a more comfortable position but with a lot of their collective muscle gone, it proved difficult.

“I may have injured my back,” Banda said with a wince, groaning from the pain.

Honoka felt terrible, already pulling her Status up to allocate when Diane waved her way. “Don’t change back yet,” the succubus said, running over to the table with the projector from her presentation and coming back with some potions, giving Banda a yellow one. “Better to find out now than in the middle of a raid when one of us could die.” Looking at the stiff and waddling mess that Honoka became, the succubus gave it some thought and checked her numbers. “There are twelve free points of Agility. Toss those on, might let you move easier.”

Honoka tried to nod, failed with a sour frown, and slid Agility to 100%. When she scrolled up, though, her Agility only went from eight to eighteen. Looking through the menus, she found the culprit was Padmava’s -2. It seems like Honoka’s Class Feature only did so much and included the negative scores with the positive.

Fiddling with menus, Honoka pumped it up to twenty by excluding Padmava and tried moving again. The strongest woman in the world found she gained something like a reasonable range of motion again. It felt weird, like the mass of muscles suddenly pressed and flowed around her as she moved, more rubbery than stiff, the sensation unreal but she was happy to walk again as she came over and easily picked Banda up off the ground and arranged her in a comfortable sitting position.

“I could get used to this,” Honoka said, moving from a Side Chest to a Most Muscular, her fabulous muscles rippling like river rapids under her skin, each pose bulging the groups out extra inches as they flexed. “Sorry, girls: Queen Honoka, Muscle Mistress, is here to stay.”

“That’s it, H finally got drunk on power.” Eve’s dry words fostered a few chuckles. The little goblin poked Honoka’s thighs and tried to wrap her arms around them.

“Only lasts as long as you have MP,” Diane replied realistically, bringing a pout to Honoka, “so hustle to the larger bench and let’s find out what your max is.”

The larger bench was a monument to the modern necessities of super strength. Metal pylons two feet thick and shimmering with the silvery sheen of mithril were on either side of a seat with similar massive supports. The bar was thicker than a standard Olympic, silvery and weighing a hundred pounds. The enormous round weights racked nearby were marked at one thousand pounds, five hundred pound weights the next size down. As Diane explained, those numbers wouldn’t be possible without an enchanter, the composition of each weight a stable alloy of steel and osmium that created the density needed to each weight without the brittle properties of osmium making it unusable. A single magical rune glowing in the side gave it the extra heft it needed. Their actual size, though, was only a little thicker than a traditional forty-five pounder.

It took some trial and error, Honoka the only one strong enough to rack the weights each time and no spotter to help if it proved too heavy, so they started light and moved up slowly. In the end, feeling the familiar strain of that sweet spot indicating her max for a set of eight reps, Honoka smiled as she slowly lowered two thousand pounds and brought it back up with only a little tremble in her arms to rack it with an echoey boom. Sitting up, Honoka smacked herself with her turgid shaft, breathing hard in utter excitement.

“That is so hot,” Quinn whispered, creeping closer on all fours to run her clawed hands along Honoka’s obliques. “Hurry up an’ finish, I’m yer first appointment today.”

“Cool your tits, Furry Force, we need this data before Miaka begins training us tomorrow.” Diane’s admonishment would have been more convincing if her own freckled thighs we’re absolutely soaked from slick juices. “Banda, can you explain your Racial abilities before we allocate?”

“Pretty sure you mean Bullish Strength. It is common in Taurine Races, so it is well documented.” Banda stayed on the floor, her breasts too large for her to move, though Padmava had fetched a bottled water and some cushions for her. “Strength score is constant as the numbers go up, but one woman five feet tall can lift significantly less than another woman ten feet tall with the same score. Size matters.”

“Yes, it does,” Quinn said, her eyes hypnotically latched onto Honoka’s penis as it twitched back and forth.

“Yes, it does,” Banda agreed, licking her lips as she also watched the Beast. “Ahem! Anyway, there is no way to exactly quantify it, but Bullish Strength applies a woman’s strength score as if that woman is in a much larger size category. The trade-off is my muscles weigh almost triple because of density.”

“So if I apply Banda’s…” Honoka pulled up the appropriate menu, her eye twitching from the Status headache already hitting her, “…three and a half feet of extra size, I’d be a lot stronger, and Bullish Strength on top of that would be a multiplier.”

“And take some of these tits, will you?” Banda said, hugging her massive mams. “I want to walk around sometime today.”

When Honoka made the allocations - including 50% of Banda’s T cups - she expected to only stretch taller, but she wasn’t thinking it through knowing how Banda looked. It wasn’t just that she grew taller, she grew larger. Like a scaling tool in DEZ Studios, her entire body proportionally stretched to fill in the space, which included her muscles. And unlike a 3D model, it wasn’t just stretching to fit, Honoka rapidly filled in all directions with mass layering upon mass, building herself up from the inside as she expanded to fit her new dimensions. Bones creaked as they made themselves larger, skin almost crackled as it tightened and thickened to keep her body intact, her muscles twitched and tore and grew back more substantial and stronger than before. With a groan, the bench under her strained to keep up with her new weight and even the stone holding the seat up cracked a little. For a moment, Honoka felt heavy as all the mass weighed her down but then the multiplier crept in. Suddenly, the black woman felt as light as air. Standing up - only wobbling for a moment when her center of gravity and perspective shifted - she bounced on her feet and was surprised when she shot ten feet in the air from a simple bounce. Landing with a loud thud hurt her feet, so she grew wary of testing it further, but as the final touches pushed jiggling black boobs out of her chest to the size of mutant watermelons, Honoka picked up the bar with two thousand pounds on it and pumped it with one hand, not even feeling like she held anything at all in her hand.

“Gonna need some more weights,” Honoka said with pleasure, shocked to hear her voice almost an octave lower. It sounded like an earthquake, and the black woman became doubly excited. “Lots more.”

It took nearly all the weights there, the mithril bar bowing slightly, but Honoka finally hit the mark at twelve thousand pounds. She experienced the pressure, especially in how it pressed her deep into the bench under her, but the movement was slow down and slow up, racking it with a boom that startled Quinn with a yelp.

“Not quite an empty school bus, closer to a fully stocked ambulance,” Diane said, looking up weight comparisons on her tablet. She ground her legs together and smoshing herself while she bit her lip.

“Better get these weights off before I run out of mana.” Honoka was about to burst, all this erotic ebony power covering her body, benching as much weight as a superhero, ginormous tits, surrounded by naked horny wives, it was enough to make a girl cum. Nevertheless, as fun as an orgy sounded right now, it might spread the harmonization too thin, and numbers were important right now. Diane did say after this whole rescue mission was done, she planned for a party and that sounded like it will be the mother of all orgies.

“We are doing this again. Soon.” Honoka announced when she finished and everyone returned to proper allocation, receiving many emphatic nods all around while they dressed then made their way upstairs.