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She feels a hot, liquid surge inside her. Her arms, locked straight holding her weight above the sheets, tremble. Basira's hands move from her tits to her shoulders before curling viciously into her skin. Basira's shredded gasp as she empties into Daisy is the only familiar thing about this. Daisy clings to it, as she shivers around Basira's cock, and it doesn't stop. The...bulge holding Basira inside her doesn't loosen and Basira's moaning drags on and the fluid keeps rushing into Daisy. She can feel it swelling against her insides, jamming her body's signals, and it feels for a moment like the urgent need to piss and shit. And then it passes that point, and just feels like burning. She knows. She knows the tissue of her vagina is being stretched to the limits of its fiber, like cheap pantyhose. If Basira doesn't stop--

"Basira!" Daisy's voice is oddly steady, commanding. "Basira, you need to get out of me, I--"

She feels Basira try to obey, that swollen part of her cock tugging at where her snatch is locked around it, and it's agony. She'll be gutted if Basira pulls out now. "Wait! St-stop pulling!"

"Tell me what to do."

"Just stop coming!" And now her voice is as broken as she feels.

"I'm trying, Daisy! I'm almost--" and then another hot surge of fluid puts lie to it.

She's going to burst. She's going to--Daisy falls on her elbows, too wrung out even to shake, her bloated abdomen compressed into her thighs by the weight of her body.

And then something happens inside Daisy. Some valve inside her she didn't know existed--hell, didn't actually exist until that moment--gives way.

She's too breathless to scream, heat and light like a star exploding, and a hot gout pours through her thighs and over her ankles.

When she returns to herself, she finds she's fully collapsed face down on the bed, abdomen still pressing into her thighs, warm and oddly soft. It feels...different than before, though. Her inner contours have changed in some way she can't begin to visualize. But there's room inside her again. Basira's got a hand on her shoulder and is saying her name.

"Are we unstuck yet?" As her lips move against the sheets, she realizes they're wet. She's been drooling. Ugh. She raises her head a bit. Wipes her mouth where it's wet and the ends of her hair are stuck. "Felt something wet...rushing out."

"Ah, no. I wish." Basira sounds recovered. "You just came buckets." And now Daisy can feel it. The glow is seeping from between her legs, and she can feel the place they're locked together again, as firmly as ever. The planes of Basira's pelvis are hard and hot against her ass.

"I came buckets? I feel like a fucking water balloon."

Basira doesn't aknowledge this, but Daisy can feel her smugness in the air somehow. It makes her feel a hot little curl of embarrassment.

"I don't think we can get apart--"

"No!" Daisy panics. "No, we shouldn't try. Not yet."

"Like I was saying," Basira continues with conspicuous patience, "I don't want to try to pull apart yet, but I want to see if we can turn you around. So we're face to face."

"If you think it'll help."

"I...don't know," Basira admits. "I keep getting this weird impulse when I look at your back. Like I want to bite your neck as hard as I can."

"Well, don't do that."

"It'll be easier if I can turn you."

They manage it, a few careful degrees at a time. Daisy realizes almost immediately that, though pulling out is excruciating, the minute tugs of Basira's swollen parts where she's clamped tight around them is pleasantly stimulating. Add to that the feel of the liquid inside her rippling with her slightest movement, and she feels hot-cheeked and spacey by the time they have her arranged facing Basira. Daisy lets her trembling arms give, and falls on her back. And that starts a big wave inside her. It rolls through her stomach, feels like it gives her heart a little kick, and then surges back to where Basira's stoppering her up. She relexively clenches around Basira and comes again in a boiling trickle, a ragged gasp tearing from her throat.

It's not as overwhelming this time, more like a regular orgasm, and she comes back to her senses almost immediately, to see Basira looking down at her with the wrong expression. Not worry or discomfort or fear, no, not even a little. Her dark eyes are hot and curious, the tip of her tongue held consideringly between her teeth.

Embarrassed by her own susceptibility, not to mention the inherent humilation of being literally stuck together with Basira like a couple of bugs, Daisy's voice comes out hard. "What are you looking so pleased about? Did you know this was going to happen?"

"No," Basira says plainly, "But there's nothing we can do about it, anyway, so may as well have some fun, right? I mean, it does feel good to you…?"

"Too good," Daisy admits, "but also bizarre. Basira, I think I felt something inside my body...give way? Transform? When we were going at it. I don't want it to hurt, but it feels like it should hurt. All that liquid."

"Sit up and look. I don't think there's as much as it feels like."

Daisy obeys, raising herself back to her elbows to look down at herself. Basira's right. As swollen as she feels, her gut's no more visibly distended than after a heavy meal or a night of beer drinking.

A perverse bolt of disappointment hits her at the sight. She should be fat, packed with squirming young, stuffed to the lungs, round and heavy and tightskinned and ripe as a plum.

What the fuck?! She brings her hand to her face and whimpers. What's wrong with her brain?

"Daisy?" Basira's voice is tender in a way she's never heard before. Her strong, straight fingers peel Daisy's away from her face, and her other arm loops around Daisy's back drawing her the rest of the way up. Daisy feels a moment of panic that she'll come apart again at the motion inside her, but the weight settles comfortably between her hips without setting off any shocks. "Daisy, look at me, lovey. Let me fix it."

Who the fuck is 'lovey?' The glowing breeder lolling in her nest, too stuffed with babies to stand, being finger-fed and slowfucked by her mate? It's not her! God, where are these images coming from? Where are these words coming from?

Daisy opens her eyes to finally see concern on Basira's face. It's an expression she doesn't usually make--doesn't seem made for, with her heavily-lashed perpetually half-lidded eyes and thin, sardonic mouth. "Daisy, come on. This isn't like you. What's wrong?"

"I'm not like me?! You're not like you! Whatever that book was, it's changing us inside and it's scaring the shit out of me."

"I'm seriously fine, Daisy. Let's focus on you."

"You're not fine! Aside from--" she scoffs "the obvious, your voice is all soft and protective and it's creeping me out, and it's like you don't even realize…"

"So it's creepy to want to protect the woman I love?" Thank god. Provoking Basira at least has her sounding like herself again. Basira closes her eyes, huffs out a frustrated breath, then continues. "The way I see it, our best shot is to try to fuck our way through to the other side of it."

"Is this insight coming from the same place that made you want to bite me?" Daisy asks suspiciously.

"Well, it stands to reason, doesn't it?"

"We need to get unstuck before it changes us any more. Get a doctor to put a stent in it and drain it. It's just blood in there, isn't it?"

"Sure, we'll just hobble down to A & E like a horse costume with the arse in front."

"We could...pop it ourselves? Here?" She's only half-serious, but Basira's eyes narrow.

"Pop it, eh? Pop it!" She makes a vindictive grab for Daisy's nipple and Daisy slaps her away. There's a scuffle while they block and slap at each others' hands. "Let's pop part of you first! See how you like it!"

Maybe it's the motion, or Daisy's rising pulse, or Basira's fingers grazing her tit, but the heat suddenly rushes back.

She hears herself keen. If that's not enough of an imperative, she clenches hard and rhythmically pulses around Basira. Basira's eyes go wide and her head rolls back. Daisy's heels lock together around Basira's waist, pulling her even deeper, and Daisy wants to gorge herself on every drop of her. A fresh wave of hot come splashes into her, and it's not enough. She could cry from greed.

"Glad you've…seen reason." How the fuck is Basira verbal right now? It makes Daisy furious through the heat.

She slams her hand over Basira's mouth and growls, glaring. Basira tears it away, then seizes Daisy's other wrist and flattens her back against the bed. She goes instantly limp, weak and dizzy like she's been hit with a mattress shot out of a cannon. She's heavy. Her legs slide loose of their lock, and she distantly feels her feet hit the floor. Her head rolls to the side, trying to escape the overwhelming pressure of Basira's gaze. She looks up at Basira from the corner of her slitted eyes and whines.

"Be good!"

She whines more sharply, giving voice to a sudden wave of despair. Is she bad? Is Basira disappointed? Will Basira take her gorgeous cock, so hot and full of delicious come, and leave her alone and empty and useless?

Her whole body is leaden, except her snatch, which is still frantically fluttering, trying to wring the come from Basira. She can't get enough leverage from the floor to thrust into Basira, can barely arch her feet, let alone force her pelvis closer to Basira's the way she needs to. She'd beg if she had the voice--please let me move, I'm sorry, I'll obey, let me obey, I'll be good--but it comes out a high, broken whine.

"You'll get it" Basira says with infuriating calm, "when I give it to you, Daisy. Now calm down."

Her back tries to arch, hands flex, she throws her head from side to side, but Basira stays still within her. It's not enough without Basira moving against her.

Daisy watches from the corner of her eyes as Basira's eyes fall shut and she breathes deeply. Her nostrils flutter. There's a new scent note in the air sending out a message that Daisy can't read. Is she sending it out, herself? Basira leans down, and it forces her cock deeper, her mons grinding against Daisy's clit. Daisy lets out a sigh that feels like it's made of fizz and glitter. Basira's breath on the skin of her neck, sucking in Daisy's scent then blowing back out, is no hotter than the rest of her skin. She's so hot and heavy she could melt. Then Basira's keen white teeth sink into her trapezius and she finally does.