Chapter 39: Another Participant
The record had found its groove again, a slow, bass-heavy line that seemed to pulse from the floorboards. Ellie lay sprawled on the rug, her body humming with spent sensation, watching Mona through a haze. Cassandra knelt beside her, one hand absently stroking Ellie’s damp thigh, her attention wholly captured by her friend.
Mona stood perfectly still, holding The Hummingbird. The salt lamp cast its rose-gold light along the toy’s intricate, alien curves. It was vibrating, a visible tremor in Mona’s long fingers.
“You don’t have to,” Ellie whispered, but the words lacked conviction. A part of her—a dark, curious part that smelled of ozone and wet earth—wanted to see.
Mona didn’t look at her. Her gaze was inward, fixed on the thrumming object as if listening. “It’s warm,” she murmured. “Like it’s already alive inside you.”
Cassandra’s breath hitched. “Do it, Mo. Let us watch.”
With a slow, deliberate movement, Mona hooked the thumbs of her free hand into the waistband of her soft cotton pants and panties. She pushed them down over her slender hips, letting them fall to her ankles. She stepped out of them, naked now except for her simple black tank top. Her pubic hair was a neat, dark triangle. Her sex was a neat, closed seam compared to Ellie’s ravished openness.
She didn’t lie down. She simply widened her stance, bracing one hand against the bookshelf. She brought The Hummingbird to her entrance.
The finely carved head, slick with some inherent moisture, pressed against her. Mona gasped, a short, sharp intake. She applied pressure.
It didn’t just slide in. It seemed to dilate her, the vibrant material somehow softening her tightness with an audible, wet pop. Mona’s head fell back, her dark hair brushing her shoulder blades. “Oh, fuck me,” she groaned, not as a request but as stunned punctuation.
Ellie watched, mesmerized, as inch after impossibly thick inch disappeared into Mona’s body. It was a violation and a blessing all at once. Mona was tighter than Ellie had ever been, even before The Hummingbird, and the stretch was clearly immense. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the shelf.
“Jesus, look at your cunt,” Cassandra whispered, crawling closer on her knees for a better view.
Mona’s labia were stretched taut around the girth of the toy, a glossy pink flower forced violently open. A thin string of her own arousal trailed down her inner thigh. The Hummingbird was halfway in, and then, as if finding its own path, it began to move of its own accord.
It wasn’t a thrust. It was a slow, insistent burrowing. It twisted slightly, seeking, and then pushed deeper. Mona cried out, her body bowing.
“It’s… it’s going further,” she panted, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and ecstasy. “I can feel it… behind everything. It’s so deep.”
The Hummingbird’s base rested flush against her swollen outer lips, the entire length embedded. Its hum, which had been a low thrum, escalated. The vibration wasn’t just on the surface; it seemed to radiate inward, conducting through Mona’s bones, shaking the very core of her.
Her orgasm was swift and brutal. It took her without ceremony. Her body locked, her back arching sharply away from the shelf. A raw, guttural shout was torn from her throat—no words, just pure, unchecked sound. Her cunt clenched rhythmically around the invading object, milking it, and a gush of clear fluid soaked the rug beneath her, joining the other damp patches already there.
Cassandra moaned, her own hand diving between her legs, fingers frantically working her clit through her underwear. “Again, Mona. Come for me again. Let me see it.”
As if obeying Cassandra’s command, The Hummingbird’s pitch changed. The deep hum acquired a sharper, more frenetic edge. Mona, still shuddering through the last waves of her first climax, gasped as a second, tighter coil of pleasure immediately began to wind within her.
“No, wait, it’s too—!” Her protest dissolved into a choked sob as the toy pulsed inside her, a strange, peristaltic motion that rubbed against depths she never knew she had.
Her second orgasm was quieter, more profound. Her knees buckled, but the toy held her up, almost suspending her. She trembled violently, her eyes rolling back, a continuous stream of pleasure-whimpers falling from her slack mouth. This release was wetter, a slower seep that dripped from around the toy’s base with a steady patter.
The humming deepened, satisfied.
Cassandra was panting, her fingers shining in the low light. “God, you’re a mess. It’s beautiful.”
Mona, slowly returning to herself, panted against the bookshelf. Her body was slack, but her eyes held a new, feverish awareness. She looked down at where the vibrantly colored artifact disappeared into her. A possessive, wondering light dawned in her gaze. Her fingers, slick from the toy, went straight to her clit.
But her clit was different.
It was swollen, prominent—jutting out from her hood like a small, firm thumb. As Mona rubbed it, her touch frantic and eager, it seemed to swell further under her ministrations.
“It wants…” Mona mumbled, her voice slurred with residual bliss and growing new need. “I can feel it… it wants to change me, too. Not like you, Ellie. Something else.”
She rubbed harder, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. The nub of flesh darkened, lengthening under her circling fingers. Not into a cock, but into something thicker, more bulbous. A fat, sensitive pearl of flesh, now over an inch long and impossibly erect.
“Fuck, yes,” Cassandra breathed, her own arousal forgotten as she watched the transformation happen in real time. “Let it.”
Mona’s whole body was tense, a wire pulled taut. The changes weren’t confined to her clit. As she frantically pleasured the new, hyper-sensitive organ, a low heat blossomed deep in her pelvis. Her narrow hips seemed to sigh, the bones subtly shifting, gaining a slight, undeniable curve.
It was a subtler rewrite than Ellie’s, but it was unmistakable. The Hummingbird was sculpting her, answering some latent desire Mona herself might not have even fully recognized—a desire for lushness, for a body that promised softer, deeper pleasures.
With a final, shuddering cry, Mona came a third time, this one focused intensely on that newly transformed nerve-center. Her juices flowed fresh, and she sank to her knees.
She looked across the short distance at Ellie. Her eyes were no longer just curious or kind. They were shared. Complicit. They held the same ozone-charged awareness.
The Hummingbird’s hum shifted. It wasn't a melody. It was a command, felt in the teeth.
Inside Mona, the toy expanded.
It wasn’t a gentle swell. It was a sudden, brutal dilation, a filling so complete it stole the air from Mona’s lungs. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, her eyes bulging. Her cunt, already stretched taut around the base, was forced wider, the lips flaring out into a dark, glistening ring.
A guttural, choking sound finally escaped her. It was pain, and then, instantly, it wasn’t. The expansion hit a hidden cluster of nerves, and the pain flash-boiled into a seismic orgasm.
“Oh god, oh fucking Christ!” Mona shrieked, her body convulsing so violently her shoulders slammed against the bookshelf. Another flood of fluid, thinner this time, squirted from around the toy with a wet hiss.
Cassandra, still kneeling, leaned in so close her breath misted Mona’s straining flesh. She wasn’t masturbating anymore. She was observing, clinically obsessed. “Look,” she whispered, not to anyone. “Look at it.”
Mona’s clit, already enlarged and bulbous, was undergoing a second change. It wasn’t just growing. It was… dividing. The swollen flesh rippled, the surface seeming to bubble and separate under the skin.
With a soft, wet sound that was horrifyingly organic, the tip split.
It cleaved down the middle, a deep fissure, creating two distinct, fleshy shafts side-by-side. Before the shock could register, a third surge of tissue swelled from the very base, pushing up between the first two with relentless purpose.
Mona sobbed, a sound of utter overwhelm, as her anatomy re-knit itself. Where there had been one protrusion, there were now three. They were each about four inches long, thick as a finger, and damp with her arousal. They curved slightly, like tiny, slick cocks nestled together in a tight, impossible cluster.
Ellie felt a sympathetic lurch in her own groin. A sharp, electric ache traveled up the root of her cock.
Cassandra reached out a tentative finger and traced the space between Mona’s three new shafts. Mona jolted as if electrocuted, a fresh stream of urine-thin come dribbling from her fucked-open hole.
Mona jolted as if electrocuted, a fresh stream of urine-thin come dribbling from her fucked-open hole. “Don’t stop,” she rasped, her voice shredded. “It feels… it feels like it’s waking up.”
Cassandra needed no further invitation. She wrapped her whole hand around the cluster of three warm, pulsing shafts, her fingers struggling to contain them. The moment her skin made full contact, the flesh beneath twitched violently.
It wasn’t a twitch. It was a growth spurt. The three cocks thickened in her grasp, lengthening an inch in seconds, their tips swelling. Mona whimpered, her hips bucking involuntarily, driving The Hummingbird deeper inside her with a wet squelch.
“Fuck, they’re getting hard,” Cassandra muttered, her clinical fascination giving way to raw hunger. She squeezed, a milking motion, and a clear bead of fluid welled from the slit of each tip.
A fourth ridge of flesh, previously hidden in the swollen folds beneath the trio, suddenly swelled into existence. It pushed its way up, jostling for position, emerging slick and full and already matching the others. Cassandra laughed, a short, breathless sound. “There’s another one, Mo. You’ve got a whole fucking bouquet.”
She released her grip and used both hands to explore, to count. Four distinct shafts now stood at attention from Mona’s transformed mound, each about five inches long and absurdly real. The skin was thin, a tracery of veins visible beneath. Cassandra ran a thumb over the sensitive head of the leftmost one.
Mona screamed. The sound was pure, unadulterated pleasure, sharp and echoing off the low ceiling. Her back arched clear off the floor, only her shoulders and heels touching the rug. The Hummingbird’s vibrations visibly rattled her abdomen.
“Do that again,” Mona begged, tears streaming down her temples. “Please, Cass, just…”
Cassandra obliged, pinching and rolling that particular tip between her thumb and forefinger. As she did, that particular shaft surged. It grew hotter, thicker, and unmistakably longer, outpacing its siblings. Six inches. Seven. Its girth demanded both of Cassandra’s hands to circle it.
“This one’s greedy,” Cassandra breathed, her eyes wide. She leaned down, her red hair brushing Mona’s trembling thighs. “Let’s see what it tastes like.”
Before her lips could make contact, a fifth, smaller shaft nudged its way out from the frenzied mass, a determined newcomer vying for attention. Mona’s body was a factory of impossible flesh, a nightmarish blooming guided by The Hummingbird’s deep, directive hum.
Cassandra ignored the new one. She opened her mouth and took the head of the largest, dominant cock inside. Her tongue swirled around the corona, collecting the salty pre-cum. Mona’s resulting cry was animal, wordless. Cassandra sank down, taking half its length into her throat, her nose buried in the forest of other erections.
She began to suck in earnest, a harsh, slurping rhythm that matched the toy’s vibrations still ravaging Mona’s core. Her hand found the next largest shaft and began stroking it in time with her bobbing head. The remaining three she simply gripped at their bases, feeling them jump and throb in her fist with each of Mona’s ragged breaths.
Ellie watched, her own spent cock giving a sympathetic twitch against her stomach. The scent in the room had changed. Lavender and ozone were drowned out now by the musk of sweat and sex and something else—something metallic and alive, like the air after a lightning strike. She saw the possessed look on Mona’s face, the same look she herself had worn when The Hummingbird was rewriting her. It was a look of terrified, absolute surrender to a pleasure that was also an annihilation.
Mona was coming again, but it wasn’t localized. It wasn’t from her cunt or her new cocks. It was a full-body seizure of release. Her toes curled violently. Her fingers clawed grooves into the rug. A torrent of fluid, different from before—thicker, creamier—gushed from around The Hummingbird’s base, pooling beneath her ass.
The five cocks in Cassandra’s care pulsed in unison, and then they all spilled over. Thick, pearlescent ropes of cum shot from each tip. The largest one, buried in Cassandra’s throat, pumped its load directly down her esophagus.
As the hot jets pulsed, the shaft itself changed, lengthening. It was a smooth, relentless extension, a living rope of flesh pushing past her tonsils, sliding deeper into her gullet with each new convulsion of Mona’s hips.
Cassandra’s eyes flew wide, a muffled gag trapped behind the flesh filling her. Her hands scrambled at Mona’s thighs, nails biting pale moons into the skin. The cock was in her throat, then her upper esophagus, a solid, moving mass that violated a space never meant for penetration. Her body arched in a desperate, reflexive attempt to reject it, but the toy in Mona’s cunt vibrated hard, locking Mona in a continuous, spurting climax that fed the growth.
It was a foot long inside her. Maybe more. Cassandra could feel the distinct, bulbous head of it lodged far down in her chest, a bizarre, full feeling that blurred the lines between pleasure and asphyxiation. Tears streamed from her screwed-shut eyes. Her nostrils flared, sucking air in frantic, whistling bursts.
Mona’s wail was a continuous, ragged sound. Her spine was a tense bow, every muscle standing in stark relief. The other four cocks in Cassandra’s grip were softening, their spent tips drooling the last of their fluid onto Mona’s stomach. But the one in Cassandra’s throat remained a rigid, invading length, its growth finally ceasing as the last pulses of cum faded.
The violent humming inside Mona began to ebb. The suffocating vibrations softened to a contented purr. Mona’s body, which had been strung tighter than a wire, suddenly went limp. All tension rushed out of her in a single, shuddering exhalation. Her five cocks, including the monstrously elongated one, began to soften at once.
The softening was a relief. The rigid intrusion in Cassandra’s throat became pliable, then slack. She felt the defining shape of the head dissipate, the shaft becoming a softer, manageable thickness.
With a desperate, heaving retch, Cassandra began to pull back. It was a slow, ghastly process. The over-foot-long length slid back up her esophagus, a slick, sinuous retreat that triggered wave after wave of gagging. Her throat muscles clenched uncontrollably around it, milking the last drops of fluid from its tip.
Finally, with a wet, sucking pop, the end slipped past her lips. Cassandra collapsed onto her side, gasping, strings of saliva and cum connecting her mouth to the now-limp, yard-long flesh rope that lay coiled on Mona’s abdomen. She coughed, a deep, racking sound, and spat a thick wad onto the floor.
“Holy fuck,” she rasped, her voice scraped raw. She wiped her mouth with a trembling hand, staring at the incredible, slack length. “Holy fucking hell, Mona.”
Ellie could only watch, a cold knot of awe and fear tightening in her gut. She had seen what the toy could do to her. Seeing it work on someone else, so immediately and so brutally, was different. It was proof. This wasn’t a dream or a personal madness. The Hummingbird was real, and its logic was flesh.
Mona lay perfectly still, breathing in shallow hitches. The vibrantly carved base of The Hummingbird was still seated snugly within her, a possessive jewel against her ravished, dripping opening. Her eyes were open, fixed on the ceiling shadowed by the salt lamp’s glow. They were clear. Terrifyingly clear.