ROYAL REWARD: Tohka’s Dream House, Part 3 (Furniture TF, Date A Live) (Patreon)

Miku arrived home to find the front door already open, though the house seemed as quiet and still as if it were empty. Pausing on the threshold, she cocked her head and blinked, wondering whether she was at the right house. “Hello…? Hellllllo?” 

Despite the strength and clarity of her wonderful voice, no-one responded. 

Closing the door carefully behind her, Miku crept inside and looked around, expecting one of the members of their little household to pop out at her at any second. Surely she wasn’t the first one to arrive, was she? That never happened. 

She passed into the kitchen, where, to her surprise, Ratatoskr’s renovators had already replaced the sink. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, she poured herself a quick glass of water and sipped at it experimentally – it tasted fresher and clearer than any she’d ever tasted, though there was a strange sweetness to it she just couldn’t put her finger on. 

(M-M-Miku…! Miku! P-please…! St-stop!)

Leaving her glass on the counter, she passed into the living room and found to her delight that the couch had been replaced as well. The new one was a plump two-piece that looked far plusher than the old one ever had, especially the cushions spilling out of the right-hand side. Picking one up, she fluffed it and, satisfied with its squishiness, tucked it back into its place. 

(Exclamation: Nnnnnnah! Ah! Ah! Ooooo~!)

She stepped back, her head cocked, and couldn’t help but frown. “They certainly picked a strange color for it.” Orange and purple? What had they been thinking?

(H-Hey!)

Well, it was too late to complain now, and so long as it was comfy, she supposed it didn’t matter. She turned to go.

As she did, however, her eyes caught the TV stand, which really wasn’t living up to its potential at the moment. How could it, when there wasn’t a TV? 

Approaching, she tapped her foot in annoyance. Honestly, how could they have left them without a television? It was the centerpoint of the entire living room – without it, there was little point in being here. To remove it was an inexcusable error! 

She sniffed. No doubt their renovators were common labourers who’d taken the chance to pilfer it for themselves. Well, she’d be certain to lodge a complaint with Ratatoskr. She– they! – didn’t deserve this kind of shabby treatment. 

She’d intended to turn and march in the direction of the nearest phone, but instead she remained where she stood, staring at the empty TV stand like her eyes had been magnetized to it. Honestly, it was just so absurd. How could they just take their TV without leaving anything to replace it? Surely they were bound to offer something in recompense? 

Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine it: the beautiful, expensive, perfect television that would no doubt arrive to replace their old set. If she focused hard enough, she could practically see its giant screen already. She pictured herself flicking through the channels and grinned at the idea. Oh, she couldn’t wait for it to arrive. 

Absently, barely even realizing she was doing it, Miku strolled forward, placed a leg on the TV stand, and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, clambered onto it. Kneeling, she gripped the sides and spun herself around to face the couch. There.

Her eyes snapped open. Blinking, she looked around and finally glanced down at herself. What in the name of God was she doing?! Why was she kneeling on the TV stand? What could possibly have possessed her to–?

She tried to move, to get off it, but despite her best efforts, she could barely move at all. All she could do was kneel there with her hands on her knees and her butt up in the air, like a sphinx waiting for a traveler to show up and answer her riddle. 

“Nn~!” Screwing her eyes tight, she squirmed, but it was no good – it was like she’d been glued in place. “H-help me! Someone help me…!” 

No-one responded. 

As Miku opened her mouth to call out again, her jaw slammed shut. She squeaked, fighting to open her lips, but they might as well have been tapped together. “Mmmphf! Mmmmphf! Mmmmmmmphf!” 

Something pressed into her from behind. Miku squeaked and tried to look back, but before she could, something pressed into her front, holding her head fixed forward like she’d pressed her face into a wall. “Mmmmphf!” 

Like a car in a crusher, she crumpled, her body and clothing alike squished into a foot-thick wall of squirming flesh and fabric. If she’d still been able to open her mouth, she would have screamed – not in pain, but in all-consuming pleasure. It poured through her like lava, hotter than anything, and the thinner her body became, the hotter it fanned her lusts. Nnnnn~! Nnnnnnnah! Ah! Oh! What’s happening to meeeeeeeeee?! 

Unable to open her mouth, she opened her eyes instead. Opened them wide and wider and wider and wider, vertically and horizontally as well, till they pushed the rest of her facial features aside to make more room for her swelling scleras. Meeting each other, they fused, forming a single large pool of white, vaguely rectangular, and with that continued to grow, larger and larger. 

Miku squealed. What’s happening to me nooooooow?! 

Her arms and her legs, already a little crushed, received a fresh helping of pressure: flattening her legs against the TV stand as a puddle of smushed flesh and clothing, it took her arms in its grip and squeezed them into a thin pillar on which the rest of her body balanced precariously, wobbling as if it would topple at any second. Nnnah! St-stop! I’m going to fall…!

Instead, the magic or curse or whatever exactly was targeting her picked up the pace, squeezing her upper body even harder. Miku screamed in her head as it collapsed, smushed into a thin rectangle maybe a meter and a half from one corner to another, just like the rest of her upper body. Her eyes, swollen to fill one entire side of this new shape, froze in their open, fused state, unable to blink or do anything more than look around in terror. 

And now a wave of tingling passed through her: as she gasped, her eyes glazed over, and her fused skin and uniform snapped straight and hard, as if starched. With a click, something slammed into her butt, and as she squealed, threads of electricity surged through her form, making her splutter and gasp and moan.

With one last wave of tingling and crackling, her eyes hardened into a sheet of dark glass and her fused skin and clothes became a smooth plastic coating: blue and flesh and all the colors of her Astral Dress. 

With that,the sensations finally faded, leaving Miku to sit there and whine, balanced precariously on her flattened hands and knees, her entire weight on her arms, and terrified that the slightest breeze against the sail of her face would tip her over. 

Wh-what happened to me?! What happened? She tried to look down, but with her eyes occupying her whole front, it was ironically difficult to see much of her new body. All she could see was the flattened disc of her hands and knees, and she couldn’t make sense of that. White and blue and smooth and hard, they looked like they’d become a support for something, only–

Realization hit like a lightning bolt. Her placement, the stretching of her face, the tingling in her nerves. She– She– She’d become–

Someone opened the front door. Miku screamed for help. Please please please please, someone, anyone! Heeeelp! 

***

Closing the door, Mukuro strolled down the hall and into the kitchen. Since the door had been left unlocked, she expected to meet another Spirit, but no-one appeared, not that this particularly bothered her. Perhaps they were using the bathroom.

Taking a sip of the half-empty glass of water by the sink, she passed into the living room, where she found the renovators had replaced both their couch and their TV. 

Throwing herself onto the former, she looked around for the latter’s remote.

(Nnn~! Ah! G-get off me, you fat bi–Nnnn!)

(Exclamation: Oh! Oh! Ooooh!)

At last, just as she was about to give up, it appeared at her side as if by magic. Picking it up, she hit the on-button. 

The TV flashed to life, and for the briefest of instants a terrified face appeared on the screen. Just as swiftly, it was gone – Mukuro blinked, wondering if she’d imagined it. Perhaps it was some holdover from whatever film the TV had last shown. 

(Mukuro! Mukuro! It’s me, Miku! You have to help me! Please, you have to–Nn~!)

Flicking through the channels, she sat back, shuffling herself into the new couch’s cushions. No matter how hard she tried, however, she couldn’t get comfortable. The new couch was nice and plush, but it was just so stiff still. It needed someone to really bounce around on it a bit to break it in. 

(Nnnnn~! Ah! Ah! Ah! Excla–Nnnnn! Ah! Oooh!)

Since no-one else was here to see, she actually tried this for a few minutes, standing up and throwing herself back onto it and bouncing on its cushions. It wasn’t enough of course – a good couch needed years of use to be comfy enough for her delicate butt. 

(Petition: have mercy! Nnn~! Have mercy on me!)

Standing, she sighed. Perhaps she could persuade Shido to purchase something a little softer for her. Like an armchair or an extra cushion. Or… a beanbag.

At the thought, her eyes snapped open. Of course! A beanbag! That would be perfect for her. With a beanbag, there was no need to worry about breaking it in, all she had to do was throw herself into it and sink into its wonderful, cushioning canvas.

All but giggling at the idea, she stepped back and looked around, wondering where she could place it. Here? Here…? No, no, no, no. There. There, in the corner, where one might otherwise place an armchair. There, that was perfect. 

Approaching the spot, Mukuro looked down at it and beamed. If she closed her eyes, she could practically see the beanbag already: big and soft and plush, just waiting for her to sink into it. Oh, the hours she’d spend watching TV in comfort from it… Ah! She couldn’t wait! The second Shido returned, she’d demand he arrange to have one delivered immediately. She couldn’t go another second without it! 

Turning, she dropped to the ground, wrapped her arms around her legs, and sat there grinning in the spot of her perfect beanbag. 

Several seconds passed before she realized how strange this was. What was she doing sitting on the floor like this?

Instinctively, she tried to stand, but it was like she’d sat on a giant flytrap: she just couldn’t get her butt off the ground. She couldn’t let go of her legs either – all she could do was sit there and fidget.

Heart pounding, she jerked, looking in one direction then the other. Was another other Spirit using their Angel on her? But how? And why?! She wriggled harder, but it had no more effect than it had had the first time, and in the end–

Boing! 

It was like someone had set a bomb off in her tummy. With a gasp, Mukuro looked down and squeaked: her gut had burst out of her school uniform, blown fat and round as a pregnant woman’s. She stared at it, jaw agape. Wh-what is–?!

Boing! Boing! Just like that, her stomach exploded again, and it wasn’t alone this time: even as her boobs shot into the air on the growing gut beneath them, they doubled in size, instantly pumped to absurd roundness. 

As they fell back to her (or the globe-like sphere of her swollen stomach, at any rate), a sudden pang of utter pleasure struck her. Mukuro squealed, her eyes wide. “Nnnnnnnah! Ah! Ah! Oh!” 

Boing! Her stomach and her boobs grew a little larger still. This time, her upper arms and her thighs got in on the action as well, instantly bloating into four thick, fleshy sausages. Squeezed against her swollen belly and boobs, they left her whimpering in pleasure. “Nnn~! H-help! Please! Someone help Muku!” 

The fattening spread down her arms and her legs to her feet, which plumped till they looked more like cartoon mittens than natural parts of a human’s anatomy. At the same time, her buttcheeks quivered and pulsed like they were going to explode, which, in the end, wasn’t too far off what happened: with a single mighty boing! they quadrupled in size, squishing against each other and the floor and leaving her whining in pleasure. Her panties dug so hard into them it hurt. 

To the creaking of straining skin, she continued to grow. With a series of pops, her buttons flew free, and her swollen boobs burst out into the open, big as her head with nipples like apples. Just the weight of them alone made her want to cry out in ecstasy. 

With every second that passed, her body grew a little plumper, tearing out of her clothes and into the open and squishing against itself, rubbing, till she wanted to whine in pleasure. Her head sank into the chub of her fattened neck, cutting off her view of her lower body, but she could feel it still, and it made her want to scream: 

With each inch and every gram she gained, it became a little harder to even tell what shape she was. Her stomach had ballooned to the size of a beachball, and her boobs in turn had swelled to a decent percentage of that, while her fattened limbs trapped all three in a thick, soft vice. Where one ended and the next began was impossible to determine – with every second, she felt less like a human being and more like a ball of formless flesh. 

“Help me! Please! Someone help Muku!” 

At last her swollen neck rolled over her face, and everything went dark. She cut off, squirming and gasping, choking like she’d been pressed headfirst into a giant tub of dough. 

Just as the knot in her lungs grew painful, the desperate need for air vanished, and she found she could see again. Looking down, she moaned: her body was gone, replaced by an almost perfect sphere of flesh, perfect save for the sag of gravity. Wh-what was happened to Muku?! 

Her stomach turned; a bizarre feeling of fullness spread through her from core out to skin, leaving her feeling like she’d swallowed several million beans and then a million more for good measure. They filled her and filled her, threatening to pop her seams and spill out of her. She wanted to throw up, but it just wasn’t possible. H-help! Heeeelp! 

Her skin tingled. And to her horror, started to change, taking on the pinks and whites of her Astral Dress and the gold of her hair. The colors spiralled around her in marbling ribbons, painting her from head to toe in their shades, and with that the tingling stopped and the transformation seemed to end. 

As if a pair of invisible hands had released her, Mukuro sagged, collapsed, spilling over the floorboards. And from inside her came a rustling that told exactly what had happened to her: 

A b-beanbag?! Muku cannot be a–! 

Her new form made a soft plumpf as it settled.