ROYAL REWARD: Kokomi's Cute Little Bubble (Bubble TF, Inflation, Popping, 2nd Person, Genshin) (Patreon)

The stream babbles pleasantly in your ears as it trickles through the garden. 

On the little stone bench beside it, you bring your legs together, plant your hands on your knees, and listen to Kokomi as she recites her latest writings. It’s impossible to keep a smile from your face – she’s so beautiful when she’s doing something she’s passionate about.

Catching you watching, she flushes. “What?” she says, unable to hide her embarrassment. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

You blush too. To be truthful or teasing? You settle for a mixture. “I’m sorry, you just look so small.” Small and cute and vulnerable. You want nothing more than to take her into your arms and squeeze. 

“Small?!” Kokomi’s voice is thick with mock indignation. She slaps your arm playfully, looks away. 

“That’s right. You’re like a cute little bubble. I just want to reach out and–” You boop her nose. “Pop!”

“Oh, so you like bubbles, do you?” Kokomi leans forward with a playful, amused smile.

You lean back, blushing. “Well, maybe a little.” 

“In that case…” Kokomi shuffles forward, bringing her face within a worrying distance of your own. “Why don’t I show you my favorite way to make one…?” 

Your blush deepens; you slam your legs together and grip your pants even harder. “Wh-what do you mean? Your favorite way to–?” 

You cut off with a silent gasp as Kokomi kisses you, planting her smooth, soft hands on your cheeks and pulling you in till her lips meet your own. Their touch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt, unlike anything you’ll ever feel again – the sensation spreads through you like an electric current, making your fingers twitch like you’re playing the piano. 

Her tongue slips into your mouth: her saliva tastes faintly soapy. Before you can reflect on  that, however, she’s pulled away, and her lips break contact with your own with an almost audible snap of separation. Sitting back, she smiles at you. 

You can only sit there and stare back, stunned speechless. The effect of the kiss is still spreading through you: where it passes, your skin tingles and burns, shaking and goosebumped. Breathing is hard; you feel faintly queasy. So light-headed, it’s like you’ll float into the sky. 

Kokomi is still smiling. You realize you have to say something. Clearing your throat, you fight to meet her gaze and speak: “That was… That was wonderful.” 

Her smile grows infinitesimally wider. “I’m not finished yet.”

She inhales, inhales deeply, swelling her breast with air like she’s preparing for a dive to the bottom of the ocean. But Kokomi can breathe underwater, so what can she possibly be–? 

In answer, she leans in and kisses you again, and that spark of sensation returns a thousandfold, annihilating all your questions and concerns, and reducing the whole experience to a single, wonderful variable: the delight of Kokomi’s lips against your own. 

She reaches out; you grasp her arms and pull her tighter. You’ve never felt anything so wonderful. All you want is for it to last forever. 

As if on cue, Kokomi exhales. 

Glorious air fills your mouth and pours down your throat and somehow, in some strange ways seems to fill you. It should concern you – it’s such a weird feeling – but with Kokomi’s arms around your own and her tongue inside your mouth, it simply feels like another beautiful extension of the experience. It’s like you’re a single person, sharing the same air. 

Your stomach lurches. If your mouth weren’t plugged by Kokomi’s tongue, you might have whimpered. You feel so tight, so full. Just what exactly is she doing to you? 

She pulls away again, still grinning, still smiling mischievously. You pant for breath and, having successfully filled your lungs again, look down. Is it just you, or do you look pregnant? 

You place your hand on your gut, feel its taut, spherical surface. When you push in, it deforms, and you feel the strangest sensation in your toes and in your fingers, as if its contents are being forced to the rest of your body. 

“Wh-what are you…?” 

Kokomi giggles. “You’ll see…” She draws in another enormous breath, as if she’s trying to inhale the whole atmosphere, and as you stare, stunned by her divinity even in this moment of absurdity, in she leans and plants her lips on your lips again, and in your gut and in your groin flares a fire hotter than anything. 

Kokomi exhales. Your belly bulges, squeaking with the strain. Your eyes widen. Y-you– you’re inflating. J-just what is she doing to you?! 

Halfway through the breath, your stomach reaches its limit. Fat and round as a beachball, it can expand no more, not for the moment at least, and with this, the gas is forced to pour into the rest of your pliant body: your chest rises, sucked into the sphere, while your arms and legs spread, forced apart by it. The parting of your thighs makes you squeak, struggling to slam them back together – what if Kokomi notices your–? 

She pulls away again, and it’s as if you’re a diver who’s just lost their oxygen tank. You flail for a second, gaping and blinking, your rotund new body wobbling on your seat as you struggle to regain your bearings. Your vision swims. You feel so light-headed… The only thing you can focus on is Kokomi, Kokomi, leaning in for another kiss. 

By the time she finishes it, your clothes have become unbearable. Wrapped taut around your swelling form, they squeeze you, digging painfully into the skin. You can only whimper at the particular tightness of your underpants.  

Inspecting them, Kokomi smirks. “Let’s get these off before you tear them.”

You’d squeak if you still had the strength to speak. Sh-she’s not going to undress you, surely…? 

She is. In fact, she makes no attempt to hide it. Starting with your shirt and working downward, unclasping one button at a time, before slipping behind your back and peeling it from your rotund form. Exposed, your chest is a planetary curve. Slick and smooth and strangely prismatic, like an oil spill. You almost look like–

Kokomi pops your shoes and socks off your swollen feet and, with nothing else left, turns her attention to the belt creaking around your waist, digging into you like a rubber band around a sponge. She has to draw it tighter to remove it, making you gasp at the sudden increase in tension. But in truth, it’s what will happen afterward that concerns you: 

Casting your belt aside, Komoki turns her attention to your fly. As her fingers slide towards it, you can’t help but sweat and stammer. How can she not notice? How can she not notice?! From her perspective, it must be as obvious as her nose! 

Kokomi, however, shows no sign of seeing anything. All she does is smile, mischievous as ever, as she unzips your fly and pulls down your pants and, flinging them aside, reaches for the band of your underwear. 

You freeze as she makes contact. Is this happening? Is this going to–? 

It takes some tugging for her to get your pants off, fighting to pull them over the swollen trunks of your thighs, but with much effort she manages it. 

Has she–? Has she noticed? She can’t have failed to, surely? But–

“There,” says Kokomi, tossing your pants into the pile. And with another word, she takes a deep breath and leans in again, pressing your breasts against the squeaking curve of your flesh as her lips quest for your own. Her thighs rub against your erection. You squeak: she knows! She’s doing it on purpose! 

Tongue tangling with your own, Kokomi exhales. 

As her beautiful breath fills your flesh, your creak and grow larger, blown up like a balloon on the prettiest tap in the world. Your arms sink into the expanding sphere of your torso, which sucks up your thighs and leaves your feet sticking out, wiggling. You screw your eyes tight and shake and whimper.

Something strange is happening to your skin: as you expand, it creaks, drawn taut, drawn so painfully taut around you. And, stretched so thin, stretched so inhumanely thin, becomes see-through, revealing the void of your interior. There’s nothing in you. All you are is a big, round bubble.

You squeak. Kokomi giggles, draws in another breath. Leans in. The soapy taste of her saliva is all but undeniable now. 

As she fills you with another liter of air, your rising torso lifts her in the air. She clings to you, wrapping her arms around your head to maintain her balance. At the same time, her feet brush your sex. She kicks off her shoes, peels her socks off. Tickles you with her toes. And as you whine, draws in another breath, inhales, exhales. You bulge, and in more than one sense. 

By now, your skin is all but translucent, spread so thin it looks like the membrane of a normal bubble. Only a few last reminders of your humanity remain: your wiggling fingers, your toes, your head, though your neck laps at your chin, threatening to swallow the latter at any second. The pressure of Kokoki’s breath filling you is almost unbearable. Something must give. You must pop at any second or failing that collapse into a more stable configuration. Something must–

With a pop, your hands and your feet and your head and your penis, all vanish into the perfect sphere of your form and are gone, reduced to nothing more than a patch of your perfect membrane. 

Kokomi, however, remains within you for a second, her mouth breaching your skin, and an amused look in her eyes she breathes deep, drawing some of the air she’s put into your back again. Slowly, your body begins to shrink, though it retains its sphericity.

Over the course of the next few minutes, Kokomi removes one breath of air from you after another, using her fingers to keep your ‘mouth’ open as she exhales. Reducing you, lungful by lungful, from car-sized to beachball- to no larger than a football and, at last, to a tiny ball of soap no larger than any other bubble. 

“There,” she says, releasing you at last. “Now who’s the small one?” 

Floating there between her hands, pushed this way and that by the hint of a pleasant breeze she allows past her fingers, you wish you still had a face to blush with, let alone lips to kiss her. She’s right – you are the small one now. Small and vulnerable, nothing but a bubble in her hands. The knowledge comes with a strange emotion, which you feel should be fear but is actually much more pleasurable. Are you actually enjoying yourself? 

“Now, what shall I do with you, my little bubble?” Kokomi’s smile is infinitely teasing.

Little bubble. The words streak through your brain like a lightning bolt, burning everything thought they pass out of existence. You can’t really be nothing more than her cute little bubble, can you? Can you? And why does the knowledge that you are make you feel so–Nnnnn~! 

You don’t have a face to blush with anymore, of course, but perhaps some sign of your current emotions show on your surface, because Kokomi pulls away from you with a giggle. “Aw, you’re so cute like this. I just wanna take you in my hands and squeeze you.” 

She blinks – clearly she’s just realized there’s nothing stopping her from doing this. With another giggle, she raises her hands and–

As they loom towards you, screaming through the air like a giant’s, you freeze, half in terror and half in lust. Sh-she–she’s just so big now. All it would take is a single errant movement for her to crush you like a bug. (And why does that thought make this whole thing even hotter? Nnn~, it’s really a good job you can’t blush.)

Finally, after an eternity of slow time, her hands arrive. They wrap around you, encircle you, leave you whimpering at the thought of what’s to come. All it would take is for her to bring them together and she’d pop you like the bubble you’ve become. The thought of it makes you tight with delight, your membrane straining like the skin of a– oh gosh, just how horny are you? 

She doesn’t pop you, mercifully (though a part of you is a little disappointed at that). Instead, she brings her hands together softly, so softly, squeezing your body between them like a delicate little bird. At her touch, you alight, burning with a pleasure unlike any you’ve ever felt before. Harder! you want to shriek. Harder! Harder! 

For a moment, it seems she might oblige your request. Certainly she tightens her grip a little, raising your pleasure to an even higher peak. But in the end, just as you think things can’t possibly get any better, she lets go and draws back with a soft little giggle. “Did you enjoy that, my cute little bubble? I would squeeze you a little harder, but I don’t want to pop you, do I?” She giggles. 

You burn, infinitely grateful you don’t have any cheeks left to blush with. If Kokomi knew exactly how you feel about this, she wouldn’t let you live it down for a year – no, a decade. 

“What shall we do now, my adorable little bubble? Would you like to come on a walk around the garden with me?” 

You can’t nod, of course, but she takes your silence for assent. “Oh, I’m so glad. Come here, let me hold you.” Once again, her hands fly towards you. This time, you manage not to shrink away – the memory of her touch is too enjoyable.

Her palms press into you, squeezing gently, gently… As you whine inside in delight, she pulls you towards her, handling you with infinite care, like you’re a tiny egg she’s terrified of breaking. It fills you with a feeling unlike anything you’ve ever felt – in that instant, you love her so much you wish you still had lips to kiss her.

Parting her hands, she takes you between her forefingers and thumb and places you delicately in her cleavage. She doesn’t have the largest of breasts, but you slip neatly into the spot behind the bosom of her dress, held in place by what chest she does have. The warmth of her breasts fills you and sets you tingling again. You can hear her heartbeat hammering away below – fast, so fast. She’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

“Comfy, my cute little bubble?” She extends a finger and gives you the tiniest of taps, like she’s booping a dog’s nose, though it makes you want to scream in utter ecstasy. “Well then, let’s go~.”

She could suggest anything at this point, and you’d agree with her.

Off Kokomi sets, ambling happily through the garden. You, sitting happily in her cleavage, bounce a little with every step. 

For the next half an hour, Kokomi wanders happily through the garden, sniffing the plants, hopping across the streams, and ducking under the trees. For you, tucked into the bodice of her dress, her warm breasts pressed against your body and her heartbeat ringing its bell in your ears, it is perhaps the most pleasurable experience you’ve ever had the fortune to experience. 

As she walks, you bounce, rising and falling and rising and falling, each little impact with her breasts striking you like a gong, making you ripple with a kind of orgasmic ecstasy. You quiver, you delight, you relish the experience – it’s the greatest thing you’ve ever felt, and you wish it could last forever. 

Unfortunately, all good things have to come to an end: before you know it, Kokomi has returned to the same spot where you started, where she lowers her delicate rear to a rock and kicks off her shoes with a sigh of exhaustion. 

Her eyes slide down to you. Looking up, you blush – she’s a giant, enormous, yet somehow she’s still so cute. You could sink into those beautiful eyes of hers.

“Ahhhh,” she says, kicking off her shoes. “Did you enjoy that, my cute little bubble?” 

You’d scream ‘yes’, if you still had a voice. As it is, you have to settle for bouncing a little. 

Kokomi giggles. “I’m glad you did, Bubbley. I enjoyed it too. My feet are sooooo sore after all that walking though.”

As you bob in confusion, she leans forward, giving you an excellent view of her legs as she reaches for the mouth of a thigh-high and, to your shock, begins to peel them off. 

It’s like watching a divine artifact be unveiled. As her socks slide down, down, down to her feet, her slender legs yawn into existence like beams of morning sunlight, golden in your vision, beautiful beyond imagining. You wish so strongly you could touch them. 

Finally, her socks strike the floor, and she wiggles her toes with a sigh of delight. “Ah, my feet feel so much better.”  

Her mouth curls into a mischievous little smile. “Would you like to touch them, Bubbley?” 

Your membrane snaps taut, instantly striking you with an overwhelming tension. Is it just you, or is it growing thinner? You almost want to pop, the feeling is so bad. T-touch her feet? 

Kokomi giggles ahead. “I bet you do, don’t you, Bubbley? I bet you’d love to touch my feet, wouldn’t you? I bet you’d love to be one of the bubbles in my shower when I scrub them after a nice, long walk. Wouldn’t you?” 

Your membrane is so tight now you’re sure she must hear it wavering – you feel like a wobbleboard. How can this get any–?

“Hehe, don’t worry, Bubbley. I won’t just tease you…” And taking her forefinger and thumb, she pinches you, squeezing just hard enough to make you start screaming all over again. The ecstasy is so great you barely notice what she’s doing with you. Not until your bottom strikes the soil and she lets go. 

Lying there, you want to squeak in surprise. What is she doing? Is she just going to leave you here? Nnn~, you can feel your membrane growing weaker with the second. You’re going to pop! You’re going to–

Something fills the sky above you, and for a second you freeze in shock, unable to fully process what you’re seeing. What is that? Why is it so big? And smooth. And delicate. And–

No, no, it can’t be. It can’t be. She’s not going to–

Kokomi’s foot comes to a stop just over you, barely an inch over your head. You see the swirling whorl of her big toe, count the individual circles like the rings of a tree trunk. You want to moan. 

Then she lowers it a little farther, and just like that, her toe touches you. It presses down, gently, so gently, but with enough force all the same to squeeze you into an ovoid. Your membrane, already so thin, strains to keep you from bursting. And pleasure, absolute pleasure, roars searing through your form, threatening to pop you in an entirely different manner. Nnnnnnn~! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! 

Giggling, Kokomi releases you, allowing you to snap back into your proper shape, though you’re sure you’ll never recover mentally. Spreading her big toe and its neighbour, she slips them around you, and, like the world’s most delicate vice, squishes you between them.

Ecstasy returns like a tidal wave. 

Holding you between her toes like the cutest little marble, Kokomi raises you into the air and leans forward to inspect you, the grin on her face growing wider with the second. “Are you enjoying yourself, Bubbley? I’m not squeezing you too tightly, am I?” With a giggle, she squeezes you even tighter, deforming you into something like a gourd in shape. You whine in sheer delight, afraid you’ll burst at any second, yet awaiting it, awaiting it, practically begging for it to happen. 

A voice from the house. Someone’s calling for Kokomi. “Oh, what is it now?” She sighs. “I suppose I’d better go investigate.” She plucks you from between her toes and rises. “You’ll be safe on your own while I’m gone, won’t you, Bubbley?” And without waiting for an answer, she releases you, turns, and hurries off. 

Watching her recede into the distance, you feel a sudden flash of terror. Will you be safe on your own? What if something happens to you? What if… what if a bee stings you? …Or something more realistic?

In Kokomi’s absence, you float back and forth on the breeze, with little in the way of power to control your own movement and direction. Your membrane squeaks, struggling with the strain. It seems thinner with every second, and the flimsier it grows, the greater the pleasure of its tension. You want to whine as its shivers, rippling like a flag. Nnn~! 

Another bubble from Kokomi’s earlier session with you floats past. It feels like a fellow traveller walking the same path of bubblehood as you. 

It doesn’t take long for Kokomi to return, but by the time she does, the pleasure has grown so great you’re on the edge of bursting. Kokomi! you cry, as she rushes down the path towards you. Kokomi! 

“I’m sorry, Bubbley,” she says, as she approaches. “I promise I won’t leave you on your own like that again. Now, let’s get you back where you belong, in my cleavage.” 

And as you watch, failing to understand, she grabs the other bubble, gives it a playful squeeze, and tucks it into the bodice of her dress just as she once tucked you.

If you could still move, you would freeze. K-Kokomi?

“There, all nice and comfy again,” says Kokomi. “Shall we go for another walk of the garden?” And off she turns and off she ambles, leaving you to stand there and stare, unable to comprehend what you’re seeing. She… she’s mistaken another bubble for you?

As Kokomi leaves, talking playfully to your doppelganger, you drift on the breeze, aimless as a lost balloon. What now? What’s going to happen to you now? K-Kokomi! Kokomi, come back! This can’t be happening – this can’t be happening. 

Your membrane squeaks again, a little weaker with every second, and with it comes a crashing wave of ecstasy that leaves you barely able to think. This is bad. This is really bad. If Kokomi doesn’t turn you back soon, you’re not sure you’ll be able to turn back.

You drift on, your membrane a little weaker, and your pleasure a little greater with every moment. K-Kokomi! Kokomi! 

Something thrusts into your sight, something sharper and more terrifying than anything else you’ve seen all day: the thorn of one of Kokomi’s rose bushes. Seeing it, you wail in terror. Kokomi! Kokomi! 

You hit the plant; the thorn sinks into you. Your membrane puts up a valiant resistance, but in the end, the outcome is obvious. There’s only one thing that can happen when a bubble hits a spike, and that’s that it–

POP.

Your membrane gives in, tears. And as your body bursts into a million drops of soapy water, an ecstasy unlike anything else you’ve ever felt rushes through your head and reduces all your thoughts to froth. 

You splatter the ground in a hundred thousand places, and as you lie there, screaming in mindless pleasure, your mind unravels into a thousand mewling threads.

Kokomi…

Koko… mi…

Ko… ko…

Mi…

Ko…

K–

…