Round 1 Day 2 - Max's Night (2/2)

Eleanor was grateful to have the room to herself that night for a lot of reasons. She didn’t have to race to get to the bathroom first. She’d be able to sprawl as much as she wanted across the bed. There was nobody there to judge her as she tried on outfit after outfit, unable to decide which one would be right for tomorrow.

Part of the problem was that she had no idea what they would even be doing. She would be the one choosing the activity of course, and Matt would follow along if he knew what was good for him, but much like her outfits there were simply too many options. The hotel had seemed endless in her brief exploration on the first day, and everything she could ever have wanted to do was only a short walk away. Shopping? Cinema? A nightclub? She pursed her lips as she looked herself up and down in the mirror, in a black croptop, miniskirt, fishnet tights, and high-heeled boots. No. Far too slutty. She’d need something with more dignity to it if she wanted him to take her seriously.

There was one particular date activity that kept sticking in Eleanor’s mind, even if it was a really, really bad idea. One she’d picked up from the other season she had been reading. It had nearly ended in disaster for Nick, but this was a very different situation. Maybe the same result would actually help her out with Matt? It was almost tempting, if the thought of it hadn’t been terrifying.

She tried a dress on next: corset style bodice with a voluminous ruffled skirt, almost Victorian in aesthetic if it hadn’t exposed so much leg and upper chest. Enough to tease without actually revealing anything improper. It would look good with the right makeup and accessories, except...

Eleanor frowned at the deep red panelling in the bodice. That colour wouldn’t work with the purple lipstick. The lipstick Max was wearing right now, while she was doing things with her lips. Things Matt wouldn’t be able to help picturing again, when he saw Eleanor wearing the same colour. Her unnaturally-pale cheeks turned a very similar shade of red to the dress as she hurriedly removed it.

Okay, other options. Plenty of those available. The outfit needed to be dignified, teasing, and to coordinate with purple. Maybe something reasonably easy to remove as well, just in case they did end up doing the date from the book after all.

Lightning flashed, thunder crashed, and a tiny woman carefully signed and folded up the letter, then slid it into the envelope along with the vial of shimmering powder she had been given. It was strange to have been asked to write fan mail, and she wasn’t very good with words, but she thought she had managed to get across what she wanted to say.

Poppy’s fingers trembled as she pressed the flap of the envelope down, and she stopped and stared at the quivering digits. That was odd. She didn’t feel unwell, she was fairly certain she had eaten at least one meal that day and slept the previous night. Maybe it was the wine, unless she had imagined spending time in the bar with Emma earlier. She didn’t drink very often, so it could be a reaction to the alcohol. She had almost accepted the conclusion when the first tear rolled down her cheek.

“Oh,” she said quietly to herself, gently touching the wet trail on her face. She didn’t cry much, not anymore, so this was unusual. More tears spilled and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

“Wuzzup wiv you?” Chrissy slurred from over on the bed. She’d been there since before Poppy got back to the room, sprawled out across the four-poster bed on top of the covers, the bottle Poppy and Emma had seen her drinking cradled to her naked chest - completely empty. Poppy had been content to ignore her until now.

“Noth-” she tried to say, only to find her throat closing around the word and refusing to let us pass, “I’m o-” she croaked, then sniffled. She looked at the letter. “I’m thinking about my family,” she said weakly, but truthfully.

“Ugh,” Chrissy rolled over onto her side to face Poppy. The bottle slipped from her loose grasp and tipping onto the floor, where it bounced and rolled away rather than shattering. “Fuckin’ fambly,” she muttered angrily, “Theys suck.”

“Yeah,” Poppy agreed, nodding slowly and despondently, “Mine don’t talk to me anymore.”

“Lucky,” the drunk girl spat, “Can’t get my fuggin mum to STOP talkin’ t’me. Always ask for money ‘n shtuff when I don’t even HAVE any. Sucks. Dad always tellin’ me I can do better. What does he fuckin’ know?” She flailed her arms aimlessly, then let them fall limp again. “He SUCKS.” She almost shouted. “I suck.” she mumbled, barely audible.

“You don-” Poppy tried to comfort her by disagreeing, and failed. Her transformation wouldn’t let her lie, after all. “It sounds like your dad cares about you,” she said instead, then pressed the heels of her palms into her eyeballs as if trying to wring the emotion out of them by force. “I wish mine did.”

“Iffe cared then he wouldna LEFT!” Chrissy snarled, trying to throw the bottle at Poppy in her anger but being hampered by the fact that it was now several feet away on the floor rather than in her hands where she’d expected it to be.

“I cared, and I still left,” Poppy gave up on drying her eyes for now and just let the tears drip off her chin, “It was better than staying.”

“Yeah? Well lemme tell ya. Stayin’ SUCKS!” she yelled. A single, violent hiccup exploded out of her abdomen, and she curled herself into a ball. “I shoulda left.”

“Maybe,” Poppy said with a slow nod, “I’m glad I did. I met Emma because I left.”

“Fuggin’ Emma,” came the muffled mumble, “She wuz cool before.”

“I’d rather she be nice than cool,” Poppy snapped angrily, then froze, and blinked slowly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” she swallowed past the lump in her throat, and slipped off the chair. “I’m going to get ready for bed now, unless you want the bathroom first.”

Chrissy just let out a wet snore, which Poppy took as a kind of agreement. She made one more effort at wiping the tears off her face, then slipped away into the bathroom.

Using the shower in the sci-fi suite was a strange experience. Grace was pretty good with technology, she'd built her own gaming PC not long before the price of components had skyrocketed, but if there was a way on the touchscreen controls to make the complicated plumbing produce more than a fine mist then she couldn't figure it out. What she had quickly determined though, was that the large panels built into the walls were some sort of sonic emitters. Stepping into the shower after it was turned on made her skin feel like it was vibrating, and in combination with the gentle spray of warm water it made the sweat and dirt of the day seem to melt right off her. Even her incredibly long hair was easy to clean with the advanced technology.

There was a side effect though. The vibration was subtle, but pervasive. After a few minutes, it felt like a pleasant tingle. A few minutes more and droplets of water were catching on the tips of Grace's erect nipples. When her living hair started coiling around her wrists and trying to tug them behind her back, she was forced to give up on getting any cleaner. Fighting against the resistance, she slapped the touchscreen button to switch it to drying mode.

The spray stopped, a sudden blast of vibration rattled Grace's teeth even as it shook all the water from her body and then stopped automatically. It was a good thing it did, because by the time the drying cycle shut off her hair had succeeded in binding her wrists together up to the elbows and started making some progress on her legs.

“They couldn't have just given us towels?” she muttered to herself in frustration, her cheeks flushed even as her mouth twisted in a grimace.

She strained against the bindings for a moment until she felt them tighten even further, then forced herself to relax. It hadn't taken her by surprise this time, like it had last night, but that hadn't made it any easier to deal with. She'd just have to wait it out again. It wasn't as if she had any other way to deal with the arousal, with her hands tied behind her back and her roommate just the other side of the door.

The hair restraints tightened at the thought, at the same time as the remaining loose locks surged up into an aggressively defensive position between Grace and the doorway. She swore under her breath, and tried to ground herself back to reality, heading off the panic before it could fully take hold. Emma wasn't a danger to her, and wouldn't come bursting into the bathroom without warning. It didn't matter that there wasn't a lock, the tall, physically-powerful woman had never been anything but kind and courteous. Even when Grace had knocked her to the floor that morning.

Gradually, Grace's hair slackened and released its grip, and the half of it trying to protect her slowly relaxed. She slipped her wrists free from the ginger loops and let herself out of the shower cubicle, doing her best to ignore the view in the massive mirror. She knew what she looked like: the hourglass curves, the perfectly-imperfect freckled skin, the pornstar breasts. It was a view she'd prefer not to share with anyone ever again, if she could avoid it. A view she carefully covered with the baggy pyjamas she had brought into the bathroom with her, before slipping back into the bedroom.

“Shower's free, if you want it,” she announced, then stopped dead in her tracks.

Emma was in the middle of getting changed, facing away from the bathroom with her top half bare. The same broad shoulders and muscular back that had given Grace a panic attack in the morning shifted and twisted as Emma pulled the vest over her head before turning to face her roommate.

“No thanks,” the blonde said with a winning smile, tugging the hem into place, more muscles coiling in her forearms, “That thing scares me, to be honest. I'll use the showers in the gym in the morning.”

“Sure,” Grace said, a little distantly. Some strands of hair tried to coil loosely around one of her wrists until she shook it free. “Are you seriously planning workout sessions? Even with everything that's going on?”

“Habit of a lifetime, I guess,” Emma shrugged, “Plus the routine might actually be the only thing holding my sanity together right now.” She gave Grace a quick glance up and down. “You can come and join me, if you want? I can guide you through something easy.”

“No thanks,” she tried her very best not to scowl, and mostly succeeded. “Lifetime? You’ve always been active?” she tried to soften her reaction further with a question.

“As long as I can remember. I think there’s a picture somewhere of me kicking a football around while I was still wearing nappies,” she laughed to herself.

Grace laughed with her for a second, but her curiosity had been piqued. “No surprise you ended up as the ‘star athlete’ like you mentioned before then. What was that like?”

Emma’s laughter trailed off. The smile turned thin. “Stressful, to be honest. Lots of training, diet control, early mornings, exercise regimes. Always having to be competition-ready, mentally as well as physically. Then all the social crap that came with it, constantly the centre of attention...” she shook herself, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to vent at you.”

“That does sound stressful,” Grace agreed, ignoring the needless apology, “I barely leave my flat these days, apart from for work and food, so I can’t even imagine all that effort and attention.”

“Why is that?” she asked curiously, “Something related to-” her eyes went wide and she cut the sentence off sharply as she saw the redhead tense. She held her hands up and backed a couple of steps away. “Nope. Sorry. Don’t know why I was about to ask that. I won’t pry.”

“...thank you,” Grace said stiffly, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t blame you for asking, after this morning, as long as you don’t blame me for not answering.”

“Of course not. You don’t owe me any explanation, but I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

Grace rolled her shoulders, doing her best to release the tension from her muscles. It was going to take her a long time to get to sleep after all the stress of the day. “Thank you,” she said again, “You’re a good person, Emma.”

“No I’m not,” came the immediate disagreement, quiet but impossible to ignore, “I’m trying, but I’m not.”

“I think trying is probably the important bit,” Grace suggested gently, then let the conversation lie as she finished getting ready for bed.

Sarah had gone to bed early in preparation for the night, but ended up regretting it as she lay there pretending to sleep while April tried not to disturb her. Nothing was happening with Lust Link, and the waiting was excruciating. Curfew must have passed, but was Matt even bound by that in the same way as the rest of them were? Had Max done something to upset him and ruined her chances? Or, worst of all, had Sarah not managed to convince him it was okay and he was holding back out of loyalty?

April slid into bed and spent some time scrolling on her phone while Sarah stewed in her anxiety, becoming more and more convinced that she had messed up. Matt was still trying to protect her, even after she’d started to reveal to him just how bad of a wife she had been. She couldn’t even get her husband to cheat on her right.

Fingers sank into one of Sarah’s breasts, lips pressed against hers, a tongue thrust inside her mouth and toyed with her piercing (Piercing? She didn’t have a piercing...). She gasped out loud, the phantom lips doing nothing at all to stifle it, then forced herself to be still and silent. Behind her back, April peered at her curiously, not quite sure she’d heard the noise correctly. Sarah lay frozen as the kiss ended, though the hand remained on her chest. Eventually, the catgirl plugged her phone in and put it down on the bedside table, then rolled over and pulled the sheets up around her shoulders.

The sensations faded, and Sarah allowed herself to breathe again. It was happening. Matt and Max, just like they had both wanted. Her heart ached with jealousy and relief. She screwed her eyes shut and curled in on herself protectively.

She managed not to gasp when Matt’s cock (of course she still recognised it) slid through her lips, over her tongue and into her throat. She hadn’t been sure whether to expect to feel it, maybe it only counted as pleasure because Max enjoyed it, but she wasn’t surprised that the act itself was first on the menu for the night. Max would need it, given her transformation, and Matt too given how his shower with Sarah had ended.

Matt thrust in and out; deep, violent and aggressive. He hadn’t been so rough with Sarah since the early years of their relationship. It would have choked her and cut off her air if it had been real, but her breathing was clear and easy. She pressed a hand between her legs and tried not to moan or let her breaths grow tellingly heavy. Was this Max’s arousal she was feeling, or her own?

Matt came without warning. He pressed deep inside, throbbing in her throat, then a fire started in her belly. The heat spread and intensified, a deep pleasure that burned through her nervous system, and orgasm unlike anything she had ever felt before. Sarah curled up tighter and clapped one hand over her mouth while she pressed the other harder into her spasming pussy, soaking through the pyjamas she had borrowed from her roommate.

After far too long, the sensation passed, and Sarah anxiously glanced over her shoulder. April was very still, breathing slowly and evenly. Maybe too still. Had she noticed, or was she sleeping? Sarah exhaled as quietly as she could manage. One down, who knew how many to go? A lot, knowing Matt.

The gap before the next event was long enough for Sarah to almost start worrying again, but then she felt the hands on her breasts again, both of them this time. The familiar feeling from a distant memory of Matt’s cock nestling between them. The unfamiliar feeling of him toying with Max’s piercings. Tugging, pulling, hurting, a harder and crueller sensation than he’d ever tried with her. She subconsciously started to rub at the damp fabric over her crotch.

The next orgasm was the same as the first, unnaturally long and slow, then there was a pressure around her wrists while she was still surfing the high. A thrill of restraint somehow passed through her, even though her hands were still free to move. Then Matt’s mouth between her legs: hungry and exploratory at the same time. More strange sensations of piercings she didn’t have, but shouldn’t have been surprised that Max did.

Sarah came twice that way, the second one wrung out of her shaking and sweating body, then felt Matt enter her mouth again. She sighed in relief, but the assault between her legs didn’t pause for long. She should have known better. She came twice more, once from Matt’s tongue and then a small one which she might have thought was an aftershock if it hadn’t started in her stomach rather than her clit.

She lay there panting in the aftermath, a shaky smile on her face beneath her palm even as tears welled up in her eyes. He’d done it. He’d cheated on her. He’d cheated on her, and it had felt so good.

There was a muffled whimper and the sound of skin sliding repeatedly against fabric, and Sarah's heart leapt into her throat. April was awake. She processed the sounds she'd heard. April was awake... and playing with herself. Oh no. How much noise had she been making, while her husband had been having his way with Max? She'd been moaning and writhing about while her cute roommate who thought her new body was attractive had been watching and listening.

The catgirl managed not to whimper again, but the erratic breathing and repetitive stroking sounds were hardly subtle. Sarah squirmed. She should probably say something, right? Did April even realise that she'd been noticed? She could let her know gently. Explain what was happening. Let her know she was flattered, to soften the blow. But just as she was about to work up the nerve, she felt Matt's cock part Max's lips again.

So she lay there, listening to her roommate masturbate while feeling another woman give her husband a blowjob. Even after all the orgasms that had been forced out of her already, she still found herself squeezing and rubbing through the wet shorts. Was the arousal from the transformation, or the situation?

The end came suddenly and explosively. Long, hot pulses of cum poured down Max’s throat, and Sarah felt every gulp of it as it ignited her insides. She yelped, contorted, shoved her head into the pillow to stifle her moans. It burned so good she felt lightheaded, and it just kept going and going and going, wracking her tired body and squeezing every last drop of pleasure out of her. Somehow, even distracted as she was, she heard April suddenly stop breathing, felt her contort, and sensed the tiny twitches as the catgirl reached her own sympathetic peak.

The orgasm faded slowly, leaving Sarah dizzy and exhausted, complicated feelings racing around her head as her body began to shut down. The loudest feeling of all was that she hoped that Max realised how lucky she was.