Honoka: Marie’s Mission - 01

Disclaimer: This story contains adult themes. It is not suitable for minors or the easily offended.

https://linktr.ee/spartacuswrites

Helena sends Marie Rose to befriend Honoka and pump her for information. Marie learns the easiest way to earn Honoka’s affection and gets a little too into it.

Contains: Breast Expansion as Weight Gain, Stuffing

These characters belong to Team Ninja’s Dead or Alive franchise.

------------

Honoka - Marie’s Mission

I

“Marie Rose.”

Marie’s head snapped up. Her heart pounded in her ears at the sound of her name on her Mistress’s perfect lips. She jumped to her feet, gazing in adoration over the pale globes of her Mistress’s glorious bosom. The glinting cobalt eyes that missed nothing. A face that surely rivaled her mythological namesake; more perfect, more symmetrical than the magnum opus of a master sculptor. And a mane of blonde waves that fell more flawlessly than Marie Rose’s boring twin-tails could ever hope to attempt.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“I’m concerned about that new arrival.” Helena’s voice was distant and aloof, as was proper for a woman of her rank.

“That, um—“ Marie Rose had many words to describe the woman her Mistress was surely thinking of. Honoka. Bubbly, vapid, constantly laughing at nothing. The one who smiles all the time. Smiles so wide and open, she must be hiding something. The woman who stuffed herself with food at the welcoming luncheon and gobbled up the entire platter of cream puffs like a grubby street urchin. The girl without a gram of pudge to show for her gluttony aside from her fat, gross breasts. Not round and full like the flawless bosom of her Mistress, but plump, and, and, huge, and… Anyway, they didn’t belong on some lowborn git! Marie’s own breasts barely filled a champagne glass, and Honoka’s station was definitely below hers. “The pink-haired one, Mistress?”

“Yes. Her name and profile suggest a connection to MIST.”

Marie Rose gasped. “What!? After everything that happened with DOATEC, how could that man invite one of those people to this prestigious island?”

Helena chuckled derisively, and hot awareness pooled in Marie’s stomach. “I’m certain the Manager knows nothing about it, Marie.”

Her cobalt orbs locked on Marie, turning the heat inside her molten. “I’ve sent to Headquarters for more information, but with our current resources, it will take some time. Donovan’s sycophants tend to have annoyingly resilient cover stories.”

Lady Helena sounded more respectful than annoyed. But of course, her Mistress was much too clever to underestimate her opponents.

“For now, I want you to befriend this ‘Honoka.’ Spend time with her, get to know her. If she has any MIST secrets, they’re unlikely to be anything of real value, even if she is their creature. But she may betray more than she intends, provided you are skilled enough to gain her trust.”

Marie Rose opened her mouth to swear on her family, her nation, her every hope for happiness in life, her very life itself to see her Mistress’s wish be done, but Helena stopped her with a look.

“Regardless, I want you near her as much as is possible. Up to the very limits of suspicion. Whatever activities are available on this island, do them together. Watch the other women practice and compete, go shopping and buy her clothes, take her out for meals, you understand.”

“Of course, Helena-sama.”

“Whether she is tied to MIST or not, you will keep her distracted. So long as her attention is focused on you, and yours on her, I’ll be free to act without surveillance. Or, without her surveillance, in any event.”

Marie hinged her hips, bowing so low she could have touched the floor. “I’ll be with her every second, Mistress. She’ll believe we are friends. The best friends in the whole world. She’ll promise to make me maid of honor at her wedding. She’ll name one of her daughters after me, she’ll—“

Helena sighed and patted her head. Marie’s mouth froze along with every other part of her body. Delirium washed over her, and she nearly melted into a puddle on the floor.

“Just gain her trust, Marie Rose. I’m counting on you.”

Marie schooled her expression, praying that her Mistress couldn’t see her throbbing heart through the thin material of her dress.

“As you wish, My Lady.”

***

Marie Rose located her quarry perched in a chair at a poolside table. A wide umbrella made of dried palm leaves cast her in shadow as she watched two other guests playing volleyball. Marie strolled around the perimeter of the pool, paying just enough attention to the match so it wouldn’t look like she was studying Honoka. Kasumi and Ayane dove and hit, jumped and spiked as the ball sailed back and forth over the net. The sisters appeared all but equals in talent and skill, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on their matching, porcelain faces. They also sported matching bosoms, which wobbled and caromed in perpetual motion even in the rare moments when the rest of their bodies weren’t moving. Marie wasn’t jealous of the sisters or anything. Though their breasts were smaller than those of her lady, both were at least ten centimeters shorter, making their curves more pronounced and disproportionate—and therefore inferior—than those of Lady Helena. Kasumi and Ayane were also at least ten centimeters taller than Marie, but she wasn’t jealous about that, either.

“Good morning, mind if I join you?”

The pink-haired newcomer beamed up at Marie Rose. That was definitely the smile of a woman with something to hide. “Oh, hello!” She waved eagerly, too eagerly, for Marie to sit.

“I’m sorry, I’m still learning everyone’s names. Um… Mary?”

Marie gritted her teeth, hoping her smile hadn’t turned into a grimace. “You’re pretty close. It’s Marie Rose.”

“Nice to meet you, Marie Rose! I’m Honoka.”

Marie nodded politely. There wasn’t a woman on the island who didn’t know Honoka’s name. “Who’s winning?”

“It was going back and forth, but they’ve been tied at nine to nine for a while now.”

Marie’s gaze traced Honoka’s silhouette while her attention was on the game. She wore a swimsuit Marie Rose didn’t recognize, a strapless yellow number with squares covering her boobs. The rumor mill had been grinding out tales of the pink-haired new girl almost since her arrival. They said she was a little too friendly with the Manager, letting that man send her gifts; sweet desserts and new swimsuits. Honoka’s weakness for the former likely necessitated the latter; both the bikini top and its contents were larger than either set she’d brought off the boat, and her fingers were already dusted with powder as they hesitated over the sole cream puff in a box large enough to hold four.

Clearly struggling to rein in her commoner’s hedonism, Honoka nudged the box a few picometers toward Marie. “Would you like a cream puff?”

Marie shook her head in polite refusal, stuffing down a laugh at Honoka’s relieved expression. Honoka lifted the last cream puff from the box, chomping nearly a third of the pastry with her first bite. Dollops of whipped cream decorated her lips, and she slid them into her mouth with her sugar-coated fingers. No wonder she was outgrowing her swimsuits.

Marie Rose wasn’t noting heights and bust sizes to satisfy her own curiosity, of course. Every piece of intelligence on their potential enemies or allies could be valuable to her lady, that’s all. She’d be failing as Lady Helena’s right hand if she didn’t collect and catalog the other women’s stats.

She and Honoka watched in companionable silence as the sisters traded the ball across the net. She’d taken the first step—now what? What else did they have to talk about? The weather? It was non-stop sun and sea breeze on Venus Island. The pool? Had Honoka tried it? How was the water? It was all so pedestrian and inane.

Finally, Ayane sent a blazing strike that landed a centimeter from Kasumi’s fingers as she dove into the fine sand. Marie tore her eyes away from the redhead brushing sand off her cleavage. “Have you been enjoying—“

Honoka was already bounding out of her seat.

“Sorry, Miss Rose. I’m up next. We can chat more after I’m done— if you’ll stay and cheer me on…”

“A-alright.” The stammering reply was out of Marie’s mouth before she could stop it.

Honoka and her overgrown tits jiggled onto the sand while Momiji did stretches opposite her. Where had the soft-spoken Miko come from? Had she been waiting nearby for their turn to use the court? Why hadn’t Marie Rose noticed her? None of it mattered. Focusing on the irrelevant Momiji wasn’t calming the whirlpool of emotions in her stomach.

Why should she feel nervous about Honoka’s invitation? The whole reason she’d come out here was to make Honoka think she wanted to be her friend. Hell, she’d just been racking her brain to come up with conversation topics as an excuse to hang out. Now she had Honoka’s interest. It had been easy. Suspiciously easy. And Marie still had no idea what to talk about. She’d started to ask Honoka something, but it was gone.

Marie Rose gave the volleyball match her full attention. Now that Honoka was out on the sand, hitting the ball, staring at her was perfectly natural. Standing at this distance, the ditzy girl was barely taller than Marie, two or three centimeters at most. It shouldn’t have mattered, but with so many of the other women looking down on her, treating her like a kid just because she didn’t have ridiculously huge boobs, it would be nice to talk to a fellow adult woman basically eye to eye.

Honoka reached for the ball but leaned a little too far. Her outstretched hand made contact, sending the hit sailing over the net, but her quaking breasts pulled the rest of her forward. Honoka belly-flopped, or rather, boob-flopped into the sand without half the grace of Kasumi’s earlier dive, while Momiji bumped the ball over the net to score an easy point.

Every guest on Venus Island was graceful as a dancer, as a prize-winning martial artist, and Marie Rose knew Honoka was no exception. Or at least, she hadn’t been. Half the reason Marie suspected her carefree, empty-headed behavior was an act was that she’d seen Honoka switch it off. Well, maybe not off, but turned down. Marie Rose had played a doubles match with Misaki against Honoka and Ayane during Honoka’s first week. The girl had still smiled that insipid smile and pranced like a moron when her side scored, but she’d shown a focus that belied her bimbo persona. Determined and confident, she’d moved with as much finesse and poise as anyone. Well, her grace fell well short of Lady Helena’s, but that was true of everyone.

As she studied Honoka’s movement, Marie Rose had an epiphany. She saw the intent in Honoka’s eyes, in her muscles as she moved, but it was all off. In just a handful of weeks, her honkers had grown heavy enough to disrupt her center of gravity. Every lateral move swung a little too far, her arms bumped into them, and she only scored two points before Momiji won easily. It had taken a scant few weeks of island living, lounging by the pool, soaking up sugary drinks and treats, for Honoka to grow so soft that it threw off her game.

Who knew if anything untoward was going on between Honoka and the Manager, but Marie Rose would have heard if she was spending all her time with him. Surely no man would encourage a pretty young woman to gobble up sweets. Not that Marie found her all that pretty, but she couldn’t deny that the girl was built like a generic male fantasy. Regardless, neither the Manager nor anyone else was around when Marie found Honoka gobbling cream puffs right before a volleyball match. She hadn’t even been shy about digging into that last one right in front of Marie.

The solution had been staring Marie Rose in the face all along, staring right at her from an upsized bikini top.

Honoka flounced back to the table. Even her panting sounded suspiciously cutesy. If she was upset about the loss, it didn’t show through her bubbly facade. “Momiji is really good. I’ll beat her next time, for sure.”

She was still grinning like an idiot. Marie Rose was grinning too, damn it. Well, personality mirroring was a proven strategy for earning someone’s trust, even if she wasn’t doing it on purpose. Honoka peered into the box, her chipper expression falling. Did she seriously not remember bolting down the last cream puff less than ten minutes ago?

Marie Rose didn’t have to deliberate; she had this question ready. “I might walk over to the shops to find some lunch—if you’d care to join me?”

Honoka’s crestfallen look vanished into a joyous hope so bright that Marie almost had to avert her gaze. “Really?”

“Sure.” Marie forced her shoulders to shrug. It was almost too easy.