ROYAL REWARD: Tea Party Suit, Part 2 (Clothing TF, Blue Archive) (Patreon)

Wrapping her hand around the handle, Nagisa pushed. With a creak, the door swung open, exposing the sheet-stacked surfaces of the little office beyond. 

“Sensei?” she called. “Mika? Mika, are you here?” No-one replied. 

Strange. She’d suspected Sensei would be busy elsewhere, but Mika had only entered the room a minute or two before her. Where could she have gone? Was she hiding under the desk or something? 

Closing the door carefully behind her, she crept forward, looking left and right and back again, but no matter where she turned her attention, Mika refused to leap out at her. Perhaps she’d taken the elevator instead of the stairs. Or maybe she’d simply jumped out of the window…

Just as Nagisa was about to leave, her eyes drifted to the desk, where a large brown bag sat in the middle of all the paperwork. Her eyebrow quirked – Sensei’s lunch? Well, he’d made a mistake leaving it here if it was: after coming all this way to find him, she was in the mood for a quick snack…

Approaching the desk, she peeked into the bag, wondering if she could make out what was inside, but it was too dark to see. Had he packed it full of seaweed or something? Frowning, she grasped the bag and spread it open so she could better see inside–

–and squealed as an electric shock zapped her finger. Squealing, she jerked back and sucked it, wincing. What was that? Static? Static didn’t normally hurt that much. 

Flustered and annoyed, she decided enough was enough – if Sensei wasn’t here, she was going to have to hunt him down in person. With this decided, she marched to the door, expression set–

–and came to an abrupt halt, as if caught on a hook. Like a puppet whose puppeteer had given her strings a tug, she slammed to a stop, gasping and jerking, but no matter how hard she struggled to pull free, she just couldn’t do it. “Wh-what is–?” Even talking was an effort. “H-help me!” 

It was like someone had grabbed her hair. Yanking it backward, they held it fixed, forcing her to stare at the ceiling and gasp, still spluttering to speak. As if someone were forcing their hands through her lips, her mouth fell open, and despite her best efforts she just couldn’t get it shut again. 

Her clothes started to steam like water on the boil and, bubbling, began to fade outright, dissolving into nothingness. As they vanished, exposing the pristine skin beneath, she squealed and fought to cover them, but she just didn’t have the strength for it. All she could do was stand there, pose fixed, and gasp at the ceiling, as her curvaceous body revealed itself. St-stop! Stop! Please! What if someone sees me?! 

As if to reflect her shock, her mouth grew wider, wider, open and more opening, stretching so far it should be impossible for a human. When she tried to scream, all that emerged was a voiceless whine.

Now it wasn’t just fingers being forced into her mouth. As she gasped and squirmed, something like a whole arm passed through her lips and wiggled its way down her throat. Caught on it like a fish on the hook, she rose into the air with a silent gasp and a scream, kicking her legs and wiggling her fingers and whining even louder as the thing inside her reached her groin. In an instant, the pressure became an awful knot, pulled so tight she worried it would tear her in half. Nnnnn~! Stop! Pleeeeeease! Stooooop! 

It didn’t, of course. Instead, the sensation split, traveled downward some more, and slipped down and out through two particular escape routes: her vagina and her anus. 

Nnnn! Nnnnnnah! Ah! Ah! Get out of me! Get out! Get ouuuuuut! Speared from one end to the other, a fish on a bident, she wiggled and whined, pleading desperately for it to stop. 

And just as she thought things couldn’t get any worse, a little black spot formed on her stomach. Formed and spread, fast, as if she’d spilled a bottle of ink on herself. N-nononono! What’s happening noooooow?! In seconds, it had coated her from belly to head and tummy to toes, and as she squealed at this impromptu change in her color, her skin gained a new texture as well, going from glossy and smooth to matte and slightly coarse, less like flesh and more like a piece of–

Understanding knitted itself in Nagisa’s head. No! No! I’m turning into fabric?!

Her mouth stretched, folding the rest of her face around it, and her head melted into chest as her arms fused to her sides, inverting into a pair of deep pockets. Her lower holes, already stretched wide open, now stretched long as well, while the torso above them thinned till it was all but non-existent. In seconds, she no longer looked human at all, whether in color or otherwise. In fact, she looked less like a person, and a lot more like a pair of normal–

As a zipper fizzled into existence across what had been her chest, Nagisa squealed. No! No! How can I be a pair of pants?! How can I be a pair of pants?! It’s not possible! 

Her transformation complete, she fluttered through the air like a leaf in the wind, folding herself as she flew, till she came to a stop over the open bag on the desk. Looking down into it now, she realized it wasn’t food she’d seen before: it was a shirt! A suit shirt! 

No! With one last scream, she dropped into the depths. 

Lying there in the bag, she struggled to move, but she couldn’t even twitch. Help me! Help me! 

N-Nagisa? came a familiar voice. Nagisa, is that you?

Mika! she cried. Mika, where are you?! 

Beneath you, replied her fellow member of the Tea Party.

You’re the shirt?! 

We’re both clothes now, said Mika, sounding defeated.

Wh-what are we meant to do?! 

To this, Mika didn’t seem to have an answer. Where’s Seia? she asked at last. 

Seia? She was… Nagisa gasped. 

…She was right behind me.