Becoming Monsters 2: Ch. 49

For those curious what I do other than write futa monster smut, I recently wrote a complex outline for another author. It will be for three books, and I got the first one done. It was a lot of fun, and reminds me that I would have made a better editor than an author. Oh well.

PREVIOUSLY ON BM: Honoka gets milked, and the wives learn that some bees are more perverse than others.

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Chapter 49: Sunday Services

Honoka must have been exhausted beyond all reason, because a morning handjob didn't wake her up. She only clawed out of dreamland halfway into her ejaculation, the whole scene surreal enough to make the futa girl wonder if she still slept. On her side and at the edge of the bed, her dick extended over the side and spewing baby batter like an X rated Linda Blair. Holding said possessed penis was a calm and calculating Diane, directing the flow of cum into a half-filled bucket, her other hand idly caressing her swollen tummy under a black apron with hearts on it, the only clothing she wore.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Honoka vaguely realized the other wives were up and also sexily dressed in exclusively aprons. As Banda took the full bucket and walked out of the room - wearing a white apron with the black letters got tits? across said tits - Padmava had another bucket in place to catch the stream - her apron a bright pink with teddy bears on it.

When Honoka finished a few minutes later, the wives all went to breakfast. No children or even nosy aunts were allowed to the meal, which earned pouting from both. Quinn had transformed Honoka's cum into a thick whipped cream and served it by the gallon on top of peach cobbler. Four out of five members of the First Wives Club looked like they didn't want to eat anything, but they choked down the delicious creamy goodness anyway, knowing they could either eat jizz or be pregnant for a decade. Diane, who had no stomach issues anymore, gobbled up over half of it, licking the mixing bowl afterward.

Honoka decided to eat her cobbler plain, no matter how scrumptious it smelled.

After Honoka finished second breakfast down in the gym, she got ready for church wearing an orchid purple sundress. It definitely didn't fit right, the formerly ankle length skirt now up above her knees and her breasts squished inside the tight chest, but it would have to do. Finding daisy colored sandals - they didn't fit, all her shoes didn't fit, but the sandals didn't pinch her toes - Honoka stepped into the courtyard and found her entire family waiting for her.

Sunday Dress might be a stretch, most of the clothing in their collective rooms no longer sized appropriately for many of them. The women were sharing everything to find something that fit, and the mismatching was apparent. Starting with Banda, Padmava was able to finish altering her Teteoh cleric outfit, once again giving the holstaur enough fabric to make her look risque instead of outright pornographic, the white toga-like outfit reminding Honoka of Sophitia from the Soul games: two pieces of draping fabric down from the neck, giving her massive breasts minimal coverage and support. It merged into a skirt short enough the holstaur woman had to constantly be on the alert for a gust of wind, otherwise the entire dungeon will discover the official uniform of Banda's patron didn't allow any underwear.

Quinn had on a sundress as well, one with sunflowers patterned on it, but it fit badly enough that one of Padmava's sari draped over her shoulders like a large shawl. What could be seen of the dress underneath showed the shawl was necessary, her newly muscled and boobied body stretching the dress to extremes. Padmava and her children were next to the beastkin, all their clothing still properly fitting, traditionally Indian and even matching in reds and golds. Little Miu was excitedly bouncing next to Jaya, in a cleaner tutu and wearing a nicer tiara, but sporting the same combat boots. Kenneth was in a white dress shirt and tie with dark slacks, his untucked shirt and slouched demeanor ruined by a hovering Shilo licking her paw and trying to tame unruly bat hair, the large polar bear woman in a simple easter pastels skirt and blouse. Uncle Aki was in his usual slacks and shirt, his yukata a checkered white and teal pattern, rolling his eyes at his children good naturedly.

Dolly was wearing the same tent-like skirt she wore earlier this week, drapery the best equivalent quadruped Races had to a modest dress. Her top was a purple spaghetti which led Honoka to believe the cheetaur was mentally on the mend if she was trying something more daring like that. Eve leaned against the large and stable woman, the only wife at the moment showing any current outward signs of nausea, wearing her Wednesday Addams black dress. Miaka's outfit was the most interesting of the bunch, a full forest green kimono with silver obi, none of the wives having seen the blunt and butch former MMA fighter wear anything formal before. It made Honoka daydream a little about seeing all the wives decked out in full matsuri outfits and having fun catching goldfish and participating in karaoke competitions along the waterfront of Nagasaki.

Hating to be ignored, Diane waddled over and snapped her fingers in front of Honoka's face, knocking the futa out of her disassociation. The very pregnant and very lactating woman had on one of Banda's tops, a black tank turned into something that not only fit but managed to have a bit of elegance by using - as far as Honoka could guess - an entire box of safety pins. Likely not finding a skirt that fit, the hormonal woman settled on gray yoga pants but wore a white, light lacy open robe that managed to bring the outfit into the realm of respectable instead of hodged podged, her wings folded over her shoulders like a cape.

"This clothing situation is getting out of hand, I'm buying muumuus later today." The rest of the peanut gallery laughed at the irritable succubus, who spun and glared at them. "You can laugh now, but this time next week most of you are going to be bigger than I am and then we'll see who wants to join the Fat Homer club."

Everyone stopped laughing except for Honoka's aunt, the large boisterous woman laughing harder and slapping her thigh.

There were five congregations in the dungeon. The Catholics met in the Grind, plenty of devout Irish gathering at a modest cathedral every Sunday. Mormons shared a building with the Jews who worshiped on their respective days each week somewhere near the center of the city. The mosque was in Shiny and a bit over the top, easily one of the most impressive buildings sitting next to the architectural marvel that was the FDR building. Everyone else congregated in the nondom Christian church on the south side of the Lair, across the street from the sports center Jaya played lacrosse at.

Honoka's horde got there a little early, the band playing smooth jazz as congregants filed in. Taking up a whole pew near one of the rear exits, every pregnant wife already looked miserable. After a few songs, communion and the plate, every few minutes a wife was either puking in the nearby restroom, puking in the closer trashcan in the lobby - or in the case of Diane - rushing to the bathroom to pee five times an hour. One particularly embarrassing moment came when the baby in the succubus kicked while everyone was standing and singing, throwing the pregnant woman back into her seat with a loud yell, smoke rising out of her frizzier hair. The band stopped and Honoka had to assure everyone it was ok, she was just Racially pregnant. The whole line of wives there were mortified.

Except for Uncle Aki and Aunt Shilo. They had to cover their mouths to keep from laughing out loud.

"Did you know there are two stories being told by the Lord in Luke 15?" The preacher was an old dwarf gentleman, using the raised podium to walk around as he talked with his microphone, his long beard in braid over a blue suit. "I should say there are two interpretations. First, the younger son asks for his inheritance - which he was perfectly within his rights to do, there was no malice in asking for his inheritance before his father's passing - but then he squanders it and becomes destitute. Seeking to live even as a servant in his father's house, he returns home and the father welcomes him with open arms, putting on a feast and having a party for the entire house to celebrate the return of the younger son.

"The father and the younger son both act in good and proper ways. When we fall into sin, we should seek to return home and ask forgiveness, expecting nothing. When someone asks you for forgiveness, you should feel only relief and happiness that a lost sheep has returned, no matter the original cause of the dispute between you. If this was all that Jesus taught, the lesson would still be one of great worth.

"Yet I want to talk about the older brother." The dwarf paused, stroking his long beard as he looked out at the congregation. "He was working in the fields when he heard about the festivities, and when he learned it was over his younger brother, he became angry and confronted his father. The first interpretation I want to focus on is how the older brother sinned at this point. Not the sin of being unfaithful like the younger son, but by being consumed by the sin of Envy. The older son had done all that he was supposed to do and this young fool comes back, says a few words and suddenly the father is throwing a party? Where was the party for the older son?! Wasn't he more deserving?

"The lesson the Lord is trying to teach us is that all are equal in the eyes of God. Equal in our capacity to fall from Grace, but also equal in how much He wants us to return to Him. Jealousy is such a great sin because it makes us think we are better than our brother. Humility isn't about debasing ourselves to prove we are the most pious, it is the attitude of treating others in the same way God treats us: equally.

"The second lesson is a little harder to understand, but bear with me...sorry in the back, we get a lot of puns in the Lair!" The congregation turned around and laughed a little as Shilo waved her bear paw with good humor. "The father, when his older son complained, said Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. I think this is a significant response. The father acknowledged the faithfulness of the son and points out that there is a difference between celebrating the return of a lost brother and inheriting the Kingdom of God. We should rejoice when someone who is lost is found again, but how much greater is the reward to those who endure to the end, and the same shall be saved as it says in Matthew 24?

"I think Jesus left the parable open ended on purpose, forcing us to become the older brother. Will we continue on in faith and join in the celebration of the return of one who was dead and is now alive? Or will we let ourselves be consumed with envy, too blinded to see that it is us who has become lost?"

The preacher ended the sermon there rather abruptly, his words a powerful message for everyone as he turned off the mic and motioned for everyone to have a good sabbath. Another pastor ended the service with a short prayer, then the band picked up with more soothing music. People gabbed with their friends as any group of Christians were apt to do after a sermon while they shuffled around or out. Honoka wanted to stay for the luncheon, but knowing Abra would be at the house soon and sympathizing towards the miserable state of the pregnant women around her, the young girl from Florida fended off well-meaning introductions and explained to the curious women of the Lair that her family had an important meeting they had to rush to. It still took them twenty minutes to exit out into the humid and drizzling heat of Harvardtown's rainforest, those healthy and unpregnant in the group helping the suffering preggos.

As they walked, Honoka had a thought and it warmed her to her soul. God and faith was not something very important to many of her wives, coming from various backgrounds and beliefs. And many were so sick they could barely stand, Banda needing both Shilo and Dolly to keep her on her hooves at this point. Yet they all came.

Unnoticed by anyone else, Honoka wiped her eyes as she smiled up at the cavern ceiling, silently thanking God for this gift.

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"Yes, that is a Binding Contract," Diane explained, piling her plate high with mashed potatoes and drowned pork chops, using the peppery tomato pork stew as a gravy over the potatoes, then mixing everything into a red and white slurry she shoved into her mouth which she talked around. "I'm pregnant, ignore my lack of manners. Anyway, Binding Contracts are perfectly safe, governments and large companies use them all the time. Only if you sign one of the illegal, open ended slavery kind do things get dicey. I know, I've signed one."

"Uh huh," Abra said skeptically, looking at the stack of papers next to her plate like normal people glare at a wasp's nest. She wasn't reading it, more like contemplating if she should burn it and then run away screaming, though her mandibles happily munched on her fourth large Texas Toast.

The family decided to have their lunch outside in the courtyard. One hosting room had been converted into offices and the other was filled with Akisame's equipment. Though the family ate most of their meals amongst his enchanted equipment, the women didn't want to scare the poor prospective wife off with a bunch of mad science bubbling and flashing in every corner. So they trotted out a bunch of tables and set up in the central courtyard underneath canopies Padmava had in her storage rooms.

To account for the stifling heat and humidity, the wives now dressed in as little clothing as they could get away with and still be considered modest. Or...at least not pornographic. String bikini tops and shorts or skirts were about it, a cold glass of iced aam panna - a sour Indian drink Padmava made with unripe mangos and sweetened with honey that the family had adopted as their official summer drink - condensed beside everyone's plate. Aside from the drowned pork chops and mashed potatoes, there were fresh green beans from the small garden Banda started on an empty lot just north of the house, a leafy salad and Quinn made a pound cake for dessert.

The wives were trying for casual, but there was no mistaking they were measuring up the possible new addition to the harem. Unnaturally thin, over seven feet tall (2.2 m), stacked like a brick house, Abra had the attention of everyone there. The wasp woman wore a white off shoulder blouse, the custom clothing displaying ruffled short sleeve on each of her arms. Her pants were a light blue denim capri with a wide belt keeping the shirt tucked into her high waist. And then...well, Abra must have tried doing something to her exoskeleton because each part of her exposed body shone with a blinding light that reflected any light sharply. Maybe it was lack of experience or maybe she was trying something new, but everyone there tried to politely ignore the obvious grooming mistake through squinty eyes.

Honoka, remembering the message from the sermon she heard only an hour ago, tried to see past that (metaphorically). Here was a woman who lived in seclusion for over four years, who had obvious psychological problems with her Race and feared rejection so much she nearly killed a group of strangers who wanted to talk to her. Coming to Harvardtown and sitting down to eat a meal with people must have been a monumental effort, filled with levels of anxiety Honoka could truly empathize with. The woman hunched over her plate, barely touching any of the food that wasn't toasted garlic cornbread while her head twitched in any direction she heard or saw something move in the slightest.

Despite those fears, when Jaya and Miu met Abra at the gate, she looked to enjoy herself just fine as the little girls had a collective cuteplosion. Abra hadn't come alone, she brought one of her monster pets with her. In this case, she rode in on a bumblebee the size of an SUV. The two girls begged to pet it and feed it flowers they picked from a nearby field. Abra said that would be fine, the wasp woman happily explaining that her monster (named Beetle, and Honoka fell on the ground laughing when she got that reference) was docile and enjoy attention.

The girls were still in the field with Beetle, a passive Shilo reading a book while she watched over the kids away from the house. The two boys were in the office and using some of the computers to play FBB and Akisame was probably in his lab, running more tests. For now, the wives had the courtyard to themselves. Overall, the meal was a quiet one as they treated the new girl like a frightened dog, waiting for her to calm down before trying anything.

After the silence stretched for some time and Quinn was placing slices of pound cake onto small plates, Abra gingerly picked up the Contract and started reading. She took her time, which is what every person should do when presented with a magically binding contract. Eventually she nodded, signed, then pricked the needle between a joint of her finger to drop a thick, pink smear of blood onto the page, the fluid disappearing in a puff of smoke that startled the wasp woman enough for her stinger to shoot sharply out of her abdomen.

"Before we give you the spiel, do you have any questions?" Honoka asked, going back for her fourth helping of pork chops but also accepting a large piece of cake.

"I guess..." Abra looked defeated, as if things had gone too far and the only way out was through, "I guess, why do you do it? I can't imagine you all being married together has been easy."

"At first, because it was convenient," Honoka replied honestly, stopping for a moment to look around the tables. "I have religious reasons for wanting to get married instead of just porking every woman I come across, it was an excuse to have sex without feeling guilty. But now I'm not so sure. I think making a commitment brings a connection with a person, something that can't be obtained solely through an exchange of fluids. It requires love instead of just lust, a willingness to sacrifice for someone instead of selfishly thinking only of the self.

"So why a harem? There's a bigger picture involved, something we're only barely figuring out, but it might have world ending consequences. We'll get into that, but on a more personal scale, why do I insist on marriage? Because for all the power my Race and Class brings, I can't do anything alone. I need women I love to love me, help me and lift me up when I fall."

Abra nodded, and for the next hour the wives all helped to explain the finer details of what it means to be married to Honoka. Allocation, Harmony, SEX! Everyone pulled up pictures of themselves on their phones from over six months ago, some of the changes dramatic enough that Abra called out bull...crap (and got a quick reminder of Honoka's adamant no profanity rule) and insisted on seeing multiple pictures of everyone to prove they weren't just shopped images. Some allocation happened, Abra actually asking for very specific types of allocations which forced Honoka to reevaluate how exacting her powers were and what she could do with them, thinking of tests for later. At one point Miaka had one boob the size of beach ball and the other one normal sized but leaking milk, and that was one of the tamer requests.

Finally, Honoka showed off the Beast. This morning Honoka was told Diane did some measuring before Honoka woke up, the Beast having grown a full two inches (5 cm) in length and a half inch (1.3 cm) in girth. This lunch had been a bunch of bikinied bods bouncing around as they moved and ate, so it was only a matter of pushing the heavy-duty jock strap out of the way to spring the throbbing rod into warm and humid air, beads of premen plopping onto the table from the sproing action, a thin clear line connecting the ooze from table to dick. Mesmerized, Abra stared at that puddle of goop, her antenna twitching madly and mandibles fluttering open a little as she moved her head in close to look at Honoka's appendage. Without touching, the wasp insisted on looking at not only the hotdog but also the roast beef sandwich.