Holding Breath, Part 2

Arabella let the silence thicken, weighing down the humid air under the gazebo. Riley didn’t seem to notice or care; she sat perched on her stool a meter from the rest, arms locked, back straight, the posture of a woman who’d spent her whole life making herself unapproachable. Her hair—blood red, with streaks the color of dried brick—hung like a curtain over one eye, but Andy could see the way she glared at the sand between her shoes, willing herself not to look up.

Arabella smiled, the way a teacher does when they know the next assignment will be the hardest. She stepped to the center, every movement an announcement, and fixed her attention on Riley.

“Riley,” she said, and the name alone was enough to snap Riley’s gaze up. “Welcome to our little experiment. Per tradition, each Contestant receives a small gift, a nudge in the direction of their best selves. Yours was selected before your arrival, with great care.” Arabella’s eyes sparkled. “We call it Mouth of Honey, Throat of Thorns.”

Riley’s nostrils flared, but she just folded her arms tighter. “Cute,” she said, voice flat. “What is it, exactly?”

Arabella extended one elegant hand and made a swirling gesture in the air. Andy felt the temperature drop a full degree. “It’s quite simple,” said Arabella. “Your voice will become irresistibly sweet—musical, almost impossible to ignore. But should you attempt to lie, the words will catch in your throat like so much razor wire.”

Mouth of Honey, Throat of Thorns: Riley has often used her voice to cut. Now, her voice is impossibly sweet — musical, liquid, alluring — but every lie she tries to speak catches in her throat like a thorn. She can still choose silence… but not deception.

For a second, nobody reacted. Then Riley let out a brittle, sharp laugh. “Are you joking?” she said. “Because that’s about as original as a clown suit at a funeral.” The words were meant to cut, but they came out… changed. They rang in the air, so beautiful it was jarring—like a violin string plucked just at the point of snapping. The sound hung, quivering.

Riley blinked, caught off guard by her own timbre. Then she tried again, “I don’t—” but the second the words began to form, her jaw snapped shut with a click. She coughed, eyes watering. “What the hell?” She clutched her throat, fingers pressing the hollow at the base of her neck as if she could pry the sensation loose.

Arabella looked delighted, but not maliciously so. “You see?” she said, with the gentle patience of a research scientist. “Your words must be true, or they will not leave you. Only sincerity, Riley.” She swept her hand in a benediction.

Riley glared at Arabella, then at Andy, then at the entire group, as if expecting one of them to intervene. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and finally said, “I think this is the most humiliating bullshit I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.” The words came out so gorgeous, so sonorous, that even Andy felt the tug of it in his sternum. But the anger in her eyes made it clear: the magic hadn’t dulled her edge; it had only sharpened it.

Dawn was the first to break the tension. “Wow,” she said. “You sound like you could sing babies to sleep. Or start a cult.”

Riley ignored her, looking instead at Andy, who sat frozen in his ridiculous white wooden throne. He tried to meet her gaze, but the intensity in those eyes—olive green and gold, twin lasers—made it almost impossible. He shifted, coughed, and then pretended to smooth his shirt, anything to avoid being impaled on the memory of what he’d done to her, or to Laura, or to himself.

Arabella waited, letting the aftershock reverberate through the group. “It is a tremendous gift, Riley,” she said, softer. “You will find that with practice, truth becomes a weapon far more dangerous than any lie.”

Riley didn’t respond, but her posture went even more rigid. She curled her hands into fists on her knees, staring at the boards of the gazebo. The others watched in a silence that was part awe, part pity.

Andy felt the air change, as if a new gravitational body had just entered the solar system. He tried to imagine what it would be like, never to tell even the smallest white lie—not for comfort, not to survive, not even to get through a day.

Arabella turned, her gown whispering against the wood, and gave the group a smile so full of grace it almost erased the memory of what had just passed. “For Riley’s benefit,” she said, “let us review the rules of our transformation ceremony. Each round, you are offered three possible changes—boons, if you like, or burdens. The choice of how you make them yours, or not, belongs to you alone. You may each express your preference. Andy will give his own, though the final decision will rest with the audience’s collective wisdom.” Her eyes swept the circle, then landed on Marissa. “Let’s begin with you, Marissa.”

Marissa—who, even in the morning light, looked immaculate—nodded and lifted her chin. Arabella recited the three options with the measured cadence of a trained jurist:

• ASMR: Marissa has become a very good public speaker. But she can get better. Marissa will now speak in a near whisper that is erotically charged. The longer others hear her talk, the more turned on they will get. (Public Speaker)
• Blue Ribbon: With Marissa's figure she is already well on her way to being a substantial trophy, but she's missing the milk. Marissa now lactates a good gallon of milk a day with her breasts swelling even larger to contain her bounty. [Returning Option] (Trophy)
• Sexual Healing: Marissa's skills at therapy are significant. Now, she'll become able to heal the body as well as the mind. Marissa can now heal people through sexual acts, the more severe the wound the more is needed. A sunburn might only take a kiss while a broken bone a blowjob. (Doctor)

Marissa listened, her hands clasped on her knee, and for a second she looked almost pleased. “Sexual Healing,” she said, “is that—” She hesitated, then finished: “Is it compulsory? Or just a bonus if the opportunity arises?”

Arabella gave a soft, approving nod. “Not compulsory, Marissa. Only if you wish to help. Consider it… a perk. A way to aid the others, should you wish.”

Marissa absorbed this, then nodded decisively. “That one, please,” she said. “I think I can do the most good with it.”

Andy tried not to show his relief. “That’s very you,” he said, and Marissa shot him a look of gratitude.

Arabella moved on. “Chloe. Your three options are as follows.

• Bovine Bloom: Chloe has always been a nurturing person. Now, her figure will reflect that. Her breasts swell, heavy and full, with a subtle veiny texture and a faint warmth that makes bras intolerable. They're sensitive now, and ache slightly unless touched or held. (Nurturer)
• Pop Quiz: The other contestants and Andy will be occasionally compelled to ask Chloe a question about them. If she can answer correctly quickly enough she gets a BP prize depending on the difficulty of the question. If she gets it wrong or takes to long she will be **** to tell them something about herself. (Teacher)
• Compulsive Kiss Hello: She feels a growing, uncontrollable urge to kiss others throughout the day to greet them—friends, strangers, anyone she’s close to—even if it feels wildly inappropriate. [Returning Option] (First Kiss)

Chloe listened, face crumpling in the way it did when she was caught between desire and dread. “Bovine Bloom,” she repeated. “That’s… a lot to carry.”

“Compulsive Kiss Hello sounds like it could be a problem,” Dawn said, almost under her breath.

Marissa snorted softly. "If you get Bovine Bloom, I have a present from Shar I was asked to give you."

Chloe blushed, but there was a spark of mischief in her eyes. “But the middle one? I'm already used to five-year-olds peppering me with questions.” She stared into her lap, considering. Then, softly, “I want Pop Quiz. I think it would… help.” She blushed, but pressed on. “It’s nice to get to know people sometimes.”

Andy nodded, unable to hide his affection. “It would definitely suit you.”

“Thank you,” Chloe said, so quietly it was almost a breath.

Arabella turned to Norah, her tone shifting to match the steel in the woman’s posture. “Norah. Your choices:

• Adorable Klutz: Norah's pride sometimes blinds her to reality. In this case, to where she steps. She'll find herself tripping and dropping things more often. She won't get hurt, but she's likely to rip her clothes or land in the Master's lap. (Pride)
• Big Sis: Each week Norah will be randomly assigned a big sister among the other contestants. She will find herself looking up to and trying to emulate them. Also to truly be the bigger sister their breasts will expand to at least one size larger than Norah's for the week. (Youngest Daughter)
• Top Heavy: Norah is having some trouble adjusting to the balance of her new form, to help her out she will now find that she can easily move while wearing heels at least 2'' tall, but is otherwise unable to walk. [Returning Option] (Life Balance)

Norah’s mouth twisted, but her eyes flashed with **** intrigue. “The first one sounds humiliating. The second is—” She snorted, “—problematic, but I get the joke. The third?” She turned to Andy, eyebrow cocked. “Didn't we do this before?”

Andy shrugged. “I don’t hate it.”

Norah grinned, the first time she had all day. “I’ll take Top Heavy. It’s better than giving any of you lot these monstrosities, or faceplanting into Cooper's dick.”

Arabella nodded, then looked to Andy. “Any thoughts, Master?”

He tried to play it straight. “Marissa’s makes sense. Chloe’s is sweet. Norah’s… I’m honestly terrified, but in a good way.”

Norah laughed.

Arabella paused, letting the air clear, then turned to the next trio in her careful choreography. “Claire. Your options, if you please.” She drew herself up and began:

• Intellectual Arousal: Claire loves learning and spirited debating. Now, she develops a direct arousal response to deep conversation and intellectual stimulation. Debates, book discussions, or solving problems together make her physically needy and receptive. [Returning Option] (Muse)
• Feline Fertility: Cats are associated with fertility, as Claire well knows. With this transformation, the likelihood of Claire getting pregnant doubles, and when pregnant, there is a high chance it will be with more than one child. (Myth and Maiden)
• In The Moment: At times Claire can be overwhelmed by too much going on. Now instead of anxiety she will get lost in the moment instead, feeling a sense of bliss as she is bathed in sensory overload. (Surrender)

Andy felt, more than saw, the way Claire’s body tensed at the first option. Her ears pricked up. She looked at Arabella, then at him, then reached for her leather notebook and began scribbling furiously. When she was done, she turned the page to Andy:

Would it be okay if I wanted the second one?

He blinked, but he understood. Like the last time, it was the only one that didn't affect her mind. Still, he hesitated. "If that's what you want, Claire. We'll just have to be very careful."

Claire flashed him a look—a strange, bashful joy—and nodded. Her tail flicked in excitement.

“Excellent,” said Arabella. She turned to Sam, who had been rocking slightly in her seat, a live wire of anticipation. “Sam. Your choices:

• A Friend In Need: Sam is always there to help Andy, whenever he needs her. And we mean ALWAYS. When in distress, Andy can now summon Sam to his side instantly. [Returning Option] (Best Friend)
• Beerista: When Sam makes a drink of any sort she can now choose to also make it magically alcoholic. This might occasionally accidently happen even when she doesn't want it. (Blue Bean Barista)
• Bearing The World Upon Her Shoulders: Sam is now the rock upon which the welfare of the harem rests. To better bear her burden , Sam will become more fit, and much stronger than she looks: her strength will match the Master's at the time she receives this transformation. If the Master's strength increases afterwards, it does not affect Sam's strength level. (Emotional Anchor)

Sam’s mouth dropped open at the last one. “I’m, like, an **** wizard?” she said, half-laughing.

Arabella smiled. “If that’s what you wish.”

Sam considered, then shrugged. “Honestly, the strength thing sounds amazing. It’d be great to carry bags of coffee beans without dying, and I could actually open pickle jars again. I’ll take that.”

Andy grinned. “You already scare me. But I approve.”

Sam shot him a finger-gun. “You’re damn right.”

Arabella turned to Erin, who listened to her options without a word, her face going paler with each.

• Man's Best Girlfriend: Who's a good girlfriend? Erin will find that head scratches, going for walks, and other pet like activities with Andy now give erotic pleasure. (Loyal)
• Au Natural: Erin loves nature. With this transformation, it'll be like she's part of it. Erin can no longer wear clothing, in compensation she is now immune to the effects of **** climates. (Wild Child)
• Sheer Talent: Erin looks so good in yoga gear, that she should wear it all the time! From now on, Erin can only wear skin tight fabrics, or nothing at all. [Returning Option] (Yoga Fanatic)

Erin’s lips twitched. “You’re kidding,” she said, voice dry as a sun-bleached bone. “Those are the choices?”

Arabella inclined her head. “You are a woman of extremes, Erin. The Producers wanted to celebrate your wild side.”

Andy tried to catch Erin’s eye, but she looked instead at the horizon, her face tight with the effort of pretending this wasn’t the most embarrassing thing she’d ever heard.

“I don’t want to be a pet,” she said, quietly. “And the idea of being naked everywhere is…” She trailed off, then finished, “Mortifying.” She tapped the board with her nail, thinking.

Claire reached over, laid her hand over Erin’s. The touch was small, but it seemed to anchor her.

Erin looked at Andy. “What would you choose?” she said, and the words had the weight of something real.

He thought about it, weighing each option in his mind. "I honestly don't know," he said finally. "None of them are you, not really. But the Sheer Talent one seems to be the most manageable."

She looked at him, eyes steady but ****. "Andy, I love you." Her smile was thin and brittle. "I'll take Sheer Talent."

Arabella nodded, almost solemn. "Very well."

Andy squeezed her hand, and there was a flash of the old Erin—the one who could take on the world and laugh while doing it.

Arabella smiled, less a mask now and more a token of respect. “Thank you, ladies. You honor the process. We move to our final set.”

Arabella, still in command, turned to the last group. “Emi,” she began, her tone noticeably gentler. “You have three choices.

• Gotta Kiss Them All: Emi loves to collect. Now, she'll start collecting from the harem. Emi will gain a desire to kiss everyone in the harem. Once she has met this goal she will get a VP reward and a new goal will be assigned. (Collector)
• Child Play: Emi's childlike wonder is one of her best quality. We can build on that. Occasionally Emi will feel compelled to engage in a prank of a sexual nature, though she will be convinced it is completely innocent. (Innocent)
• Dream Artistry: Emi's always been a dreamer, but now, she's stepping into the role of dreamweaver. By sleeping beside a woman, she can subtly seed her dreams with erotic imagery involving the Master — customized to their deepest insecurities or desires. These dreams do not feel intrusive. (Dreamer)

Sam raised her hand. "Uh, why's Emi not getting returning options? And what's up with Collector?"

Arabella smiled. "Good questions. She is not getting returning options because she received both her first and second option during the last round. And she has switched Paths this morning, from Jealousy to Collector."

The Host turned to the six-armed girl. "Emi?"

Emi went pink from collarbone to ears. “That’s… a lot,” she managed, her hands wringing each other. “I, uh, I don't have to use Dream Artistry, do I?”

Arabella shook her head.

Andy smiled. “You’re already perfect,” he said. “But if you want Dream Artistry, I support it.”

Emi bobbed her head, six hands fluttering, and gave Andy a soft, grateful look.

Dawn was next, bouncing lightly on her toes. “Okay, hit me,” she said, grinning.

• Room Service: A contestant can pay Dawn a a fee of 1000 BP to include her on their date night. If brought in this way Dawn serves as a butler for the couple and gives a bonus to any VP earned by them on the date. (Consierge)
• Energizer Bunny: Dawn loves bunnies! They are as energetic as she is, so Dawn is now a fun loving bunny girl complete with ears and tail. High kicks and a need to breed included. (Fun Lover)
• Kiss Me, Kiss Me As If It Were the Last Time: Like heroines in cheap romance novels, every kiss she receives leaves her head spinning and her knees weak, literally making her sway and lean into whoever kissed her, craving more. [Returning Option] (Helpless Romantic)

Dawn’s mouth worked, trying to contain a laugh. "Is it bad that I want the second one?" She asked, eyes shining. "Wait, it's not the Playboy bunny, is it?"

Arabella's lips quirked into a smile. "No, Dawn, it isn't." Dawn grinned.

Sam whooped. “YES, Dawn!”

Andy hesitated. "Are you sure, Dawn? The first option would be more manageable."

Dawn nodded. "I know, but I don't like the idea of being **** to be a butler. That's not even what I do in the hotel!"

Grimacing, Andy nodded. "That's okay, then." She beamed at him, and he couldn't help himself, returning the smile.

Finally, Arabella turned to Liesa. “Your choices:

• Cunning Linguist: Forign students must often be good with languages. Now Liesa will gain another skill with her tongue, giving supercharged pleasure through oral sex. She will also now feel pleasure when giving it as well. In exchange, her skills with English will improve slightly. (Exchange Student)
• Truth In Fiction: When Liesa sketches someone now she will find the drawing incorporates a secret about them she does not know; she may puzzle out with enough effort. (Artist)
• Hush: Liesa knows better than to do the talking. Now, Liesa cannot speak unless she is spoken to first. [Returning Option] (Escort - path name visible only to Liesa and Andy)

Liesa looked mortified, glancing at Sam for support. Sam, seeing this, squeezed her hand. “What do you want, schat?” she whispered.

Liesa bit her lip. "Maybe the first one?" Her voice was soft, ****, and she looked guiltily at Sam and Andy.

Andy nodded. "Either that one or Truth in Fiction would be good picks. But the second one might be too intrusive. And Hush is just one more thing you wouldn't be able to do."

Liesa brightened a bit. "Yes. Yes."

Arabella inclined her head. “Cunning Linguist, then.”

Andy looked around the circle. All the women had picked. Some were nervous, some giddy, but all seemed—despite the weirdness of the process—content with their choices.

Arabella gave a small clap. “Wonderful. Riley, we return to you for your two supplementary transformations.”

Arabella approached Riley as if she were a rare animal—a little dangerous, a little sacred. “For you, two sets,” she said. “The first:

• Wailing Kiss: Her lips become irresistibly soft and dark—always parted, always begging. If she kisses someone, no matter the circumstances, both Riley and the kissee feel a momentary wave of intense arousal. (Widow's Wake)
• Silence is ****: If Riley goes more than a day without creating something poetic — a line, a stanza, a verse — she begins to grow lethargic and dull, as if her soul itself were drying out. (The Poet)
• **** Core: Despite her strong exterior, key spots on her body (such as the small of her back, her inner thighs, or her neck) become exquisitely sensitive to touch. The position of these spots will vary each day. Touching them, even accidentally, will give her a flush of orgasmic pleasure. (Guardian)

Riley blinked. “Great. I can be a succubus with seasonal depression,” she said, but the words sang, every syllable a lure. Riley bared her teeth, a wolfish smile. “I’ll take the first,” she said. “At least it’s a weapon.”

Andy flinched, but only a little, and shrugged. What was he supposed to say? The others watched, silent.

Arabella nodded. “Very well. Wailing Kiss is your pick.” She then recited the next set.

• Cathedral Breasts: Her breasts swell to the soft, heaving proportions of a sensual Madonna in mourning—achingly full, sensitive, and always slightly cold to the touch, needing to be warmed. (Widow's Wake)
• Muse-Touched: When she recites a poem (hers or another’s) in earnest, she becomes unbearably aroused by anyone who hears it — hips shifting, pupils dilating, breath catching, whether she intends to seduce or not. (The Poet)
• Misjudged Matchmaker: Riley now has an uncanny (but unreliable!) ability to instantly tell if two people would make good friends/partners...by sensing when they'd have great sex together. (Guardian)

Riley considered this, her lips parted. She glanced at Andy, then away. “The first,” she said, more quietly this time. “Give me the breasts. I don’t care. I’ve had worse.”

Arabella inclined her head, as if in respect. “As you wish.”

Andy cleared his throat, and said, “You know, you don’t have to make it hurt all the time.”

Riley glared, but there was a flicker—a shadow of something softer—behind her eyes. “Spare me the pity, Cooper,” she said, her voice a velvet blade. “Just wait until I get my hands on you.”

He didn’t doubt it, not for a second.

Arabella turned to him. "Andy, you have obtained another Achievement this round. This time, in addition to the expected increase in strength and stamina for you; the increase in stamina, fertility for your harem; and the increase in lifespan for all of you, the Achievement will both grant you a new Gift, and a free upgrade to an existing Gift. The upgrade options are:

• Absolute Command (Command Upgrade): The Master's Will is absolute. He can issue commands even the most dedicated harem members cannot normally obey, such as ordering them not to breathe, or not to hear. The harem member won't suffer any damage from the order or its effects, and will obey even if she cannot hear the order.
• Portable Console (Console Upgrade): The Master keeps finding glitches. He receives knowledge of additional cheat codes, and is granted a smartwatch he can use to input them on the go. Only the Master can use the smartwatch, and if he loses it, if it is misplaced or tossed away, it instantly returns to his wrist.
• Twice the Ruler (Connect Upgrade): The Master's harem grows, and sometimes it is unwieldy to handle. To help him, the Master can, if he wishes, split Andy and Andi into separate bodies. He can control both bodies perfectly as long as they remain within 30 feet of each other. He can remain split indefinitely, but time spent split does not count towards the 24-hour requirement to be fully Andi. When split, neither body can switch genders.

Andy didn't hesitate. "Portable Console. It's the most benign."

Arabella nodded. "Very well. As for your new Gifts:

• Conflate: The Master likes seeing connections form among the harem. By touching two harem members, he can conflate them so that their emotions average out, they each feel what the other feels (particularly arousals and orgasms), and when they are subject to effects such as temporary or permanent TFs, or assigned scoring during challenges, they both receive the most advantageous of the two results. The ability lasts 24 hours or until the Master dismisses it. Only two harem members can be bound at any one time. The Master can use this ability 1/round.
• Coauthor: The Master needs to ensure the Contestants are correctly represented. He can access their descriptions and modify up to three words per round per Contestant. The modification can be retroactive or not. The Contestant will not know what has been modified, unless Andy tells them. Andy must use this ability at least once per round.
• Conscript: The Master can delegate. He can choose one Contestant to wield one of his Gifts for up to 24 hours. To all intents and purposes, the Conscript is treated as the Master for purposes of using the Gift, with the following exception: they cannot use the Gift on themselves, and they cannot use it on the Master. The Master can withdraw the Gift at any time; until he does so or 24 hours have passed, the Master has no access to the gift.

Andy blinked. This time, the options were more complex than the last Gifts. He studied them. "Not Coauthor. With the obligation to use it at least once per round, I'd have to change one of the women every round. That's too much power." He paused. "Conscript is interesting, it's kind of the Sharing Your Burdens transformation Sam got last time, but for Gifts. However, the only Gift I could envision sharing is Console. Conflate seems the most benign." He glanced at Erin and Claire. "It might even have some... interesting applications." Erin grinned.

Arabella looked at him. "Conflate, then?" Andy nodded.

Arabella, satisfied, turned to the group. “All selections are in,” she announced. “We now leave it to the vote.” She gestured, and above the gazebo, a shimmer of color formed—each woman’s name and her three options, as well as Andy and his six options, visible for all to see, hanging like banners of fate. “You may now discuss among yourselves while the Audience deliberates.”

The shimmer of options above the gazebo seemed to pulse with a will of its own. The women stared up, some with awe, some with dread.

Chloe clung to Dawn’s arm, her fingers a vise. “I can’t believe this is real,” she whispered. “What if I end up… you know… huge?”

Dawn just laughed, pulling her close. “You’ll rock it,” she said. “Plus, you’ll always have someone to help with back rubs.”

Marissa and Norah traded glances, each too proud to be the first to admit fear, but both clearly feeling it. “I hope the audience is kind,” Marissa said, voice low. “They haven’t always been.”

Norah snorted. “I prefer when they’re mean. Keeps things interesting.”

Sam, newly brimming with confidence, flexed her arms. “I think I could arm wrestle a bear if I get the strength,” she said, and Liesa giggled, resting her head on Sam’s shoulder.

Across the group, small clusters formed and dissolved—women holding hands, bumping shoulders, whispering nervously about what was to come. The sun had risen above the surf, and the gazebo glowed with the soft gold of a morning that should have felt safer than it did.

Andy looked at each of them, feeling a tide of guilt and pride in equal measure. These women—each so brave, each so battered by fate—had chosen to stay, to play, to hope. He wanted to protect every one of them, but he knew that was never really possible.

He stood, finally, and walked among them, giving what comfort he could—a squeeze of the hand, a joke, a promise that they’d get through it together. He reached Claire last, and she pressed her notebook into his palm.

Riley watched from the edge, arms folded. She looked at him not with hate, but with something harder to name—a wish, maybe, that he’d do better this time. Or that he’d prove her right, and fail.

The choices hung in the air, glimmering like the last stars of night. The group waited, breath held, as if the verdict would decide not just the future of their bodies, but the fate of something larger.

Andy looked up, at the names and the possibilities. For the first time, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to win, or just survive with the people he loved intact.

The sun hit the beach at last, blinding and merciless. It lit up every inch of the gazebo, every face in the circle, and in the hard, honest light, Andy saw what he’d missed for too long:

None of them were afraid, not really. They were waiting to see who they would become.

He sat back in the throne, heart pounding. The game was out of his hands. But for the first time, that felt okay.

Author's Note: Voting for the TFs is open until Wednesday, September 24, 5.59pm EST. Voting links are also reported below for your convenience:

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