Honoka: Marie’s Mission - 03
Disclaimer: This story contains adult themes. It is not suitable for minors or the easily offended.
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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.
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Honoka - Marie’s Mission
III
Marie Rose skipped out of her suite, down the hall to meet Honoka for breakfast, and nearly ran face-first into Lady Helena’s glorious bosom. Although—was that bosom somewhat less glorious that morning? Had her Lady’s glamorous glands somehow dwindled in their patrician proportions?
No, the very notion was absurd. Lady Helena possessed the finest breasts on Venus Island. The exemplars, the gold standard against which all lesser bosoms were judged.
The owner of said bosom waited for Marie to enter her sitting room. She was holding the door. For her.
Tripping over her feet in her attempt to bow, grovel, apologize, and thank her mistress all at once, Marie Rose entered the room. Lady Helena strode in after her, closing the door. She didn’t sit, so neither did Marie.
This was it. She could already taste the reprimand. She’d been far too free with her mistress’s resources.
“You’ve done very well these past weeks,” Lady Helena said. “With Honoka off the board, we’ve been able to track Donovan more closely.”
Her mistress was furious; she was livid; she was… disappointed?! What unspeakable retribution would she enact? What punishment would Lady Helena visit upon her as penance for her failure?
“I have my doubts as to her involvement with Donovan or MIST at all, but I must say you’ve exceeded my expectations with this little… project.”
Would she tie her up? Whip her? Would she… she… she wasn’t angry?
“T-thank you, My Lady.”
“I gather she hasn’t divulged any secrets or valuable intel—if indeed she possesses any at all.”
Shit. She’d gotten so focused on keeping Honoka distracted and eating that she’d forgotten all about the intel. Lady Helena really should punish her.
“Not yet, My Lady. I’ll be sure to push her harder from today!”
Lady Helena waved a dismissive hand. “If the girl had anything in that head worth telling, she’d have shared it by now. You’ve clearly secured her trust; half the island talks about the two of you as a single unit. By all means, take any opportunities you find. But your priority is continuing to keep her occupied.”
If Honoka had no useful intel, and she wasn’t working with MIST, why did it matter if Marie kept her distracted? Such questions were above her station, of course. Lady Helena’s motivations and methods were often too inscrutable for Marie Rose to comprehend.
She bowed nearly parallel to the floor. “As you wish, My Lady.”
As a rule, Misaki’s office door remained open whenever she was at her desk. Her official title was Assistant to the Manager, but, in truth, she did most of the managing on Venus Island. Despite her open door, people often knocked at its threshold anyway.
Knock, knock.
The Director of Catering stood in the doorway. Few knew his real name—he’d been part of the island’s staff long before Misaki arrived. “Chef-san, good morning.”
“Good morning, Misaki-san. I need to speak with the Manager.”
“The Manager is out of his office at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?”
Chef’s eyes dropped to the floor, then examined the ceiling. In his domain, he received utmost deference from the dishwashers to the most skilled cooks. But in the Office of the Manager, even his lengthy tenure placed him no higher than the Manager’s Assistant. He approached her desk.
“We’re having a bit of a supply issue.”
Misaki raised one brown eyebrow. “A supply issue?”
“Food service activity has risen dramatically over the past weeks. I’m getting requests for ingredients and reports of shortages from nearly every shop, cafe, and restaurant on the island. They seem to have particular difficulty keeping heavy whipping cream in stock.”
How very strange. Not that she could say as much.
“That doesn’t sound all that dramatic to me. Is the Catering department showing revenue to match this uptick in consumption?”
One corner of the man’s mouth dropped. “We are.”
Misaki leaned back in her chair. “Well, there you have it. We’ve had quite a long stretch of lovely weather; doubtless the guests are simply spending more time outside. With all the physical games and recreation we offer, it’s only natural that they’d need extra calories to fuel their active days.”
Chef’s posture softened. He seemed somewhat mollified, but his expression retained a measure of concern.
“Anyway, we don’t need to bother the Manager with this.” Misaki pulled a form from her desk and began writing. “I’ll authorize an adjustment to Catering’s budget allocation. Just order whatever your department needs; we’ll arrange more frequent supply boats if necessary. Would a fifty percent increase suffice?”
Relief was plain on the man’s face. He’d come prepared for more of a fight than this. He studied the ceiling again. “It’s closer to a hundred percent, Misaki-san. Or it will, in another week or so, if the trend holds.”
A hundred? How much volleyball and rock-climbing were those women doing that they were eating twice as much food? Well, if they were paying for it, it didn’t matter.
“Very well, a one-hundred percent increase for the next month. Please come see me if we need to adjust it again, Chef-san. I doubt these numbers will hold for very long.”
Chef took the form after Misaki stamped it, bowing to her. “I will. Thank you, Misaki-san.”
Mere days after Marie Rose’s meeting with Lady Helena, the weather over Venus Island took an unforecasted turn. Persistent cloud cover blotted out the sunshine. The days varied from a shadowy grey to dusk-like darkness, no matter the hour. Winds whipped and gusted in ever-changing directions. Palm leaves flapped and tore free, and the refreshing ocean mist became a salt spray that burned the eyes. The air turned the coldest it had been since their arrival, rarely peeking above twelve to thirteen degrees. Worst of all was the rain. Sometimes a deluge, sometimes a drizzle, it fell unceasingly, making cakes of the sand and mud pies of the walking paths.
Certain that her raincoat was insufficient for the task, Marie Rose darted from shelter to shelter as she made her way from the hotel to cottage row. While Lady Helena and other high-ranking guests had been given suites in the hotel, some solo travelers and late arrivals were housed in freestanding, named bungalows. Honoka’s was called Cardamom; Marie had met her there several times, but had never been inside. Their plans for breakfast on the cafe patio, followed by a morning spent spectating volleyball matches—with a parade of snacks brought to their table—were canceled, of course. The restaurants were closed, and none of the guests craved competition enough to play volleyball in the rain. With nothing else to occupy her time, Marie Rose decided to brave the downpour to keep Honoka company. It wasn’t like the rainy weather made her sad, and she wanted the piggy girl to cheer her up or anything like that.
“Marieeeee!”
An instant after Honoka opened the door, Marie Rose found herself wrapped in a hug and being swung like a frisbee. Her wet sandals slipped off her feet. She nearly dropped the bag of pastry boxes that dripped rainwater onto the wooden floor. Her legs flailed outward, but the entire top third of her body was smothered in fat, pajama-clad bosom that smelled faintly of citrus and vanilla.
“Puff mmh dnn, cru lee!”
Honoka stopped spinning, and Marie’s bare feet hit the wood floor. She was still wrapped in the other girl’s arms, but Honoka’s grip had loosened enough for her to lean her head back and breathe.
“I said put me down, crazy lady.”
They burst into giggles as Honoka freed her and took a step back.
“I’m just so glad to see you,” Honoka said. “It’s been so lovely here—I can’t believe how fast the weather turned so yucky.”
Once the room stopped spinning, Marie Rose peeled off her raincoat and hung it on a hook. The front of Honoka’s pajama shirt had a dark spot, the damp imprint where Marie had been. She was surprised by how little of the top the spot covered. “Yeah. I guess the rainy season came late, so it’s worse than normal. I figured you might want some company.”
“I’ve just been watching some dramas on TV. We could watch together…”
Marie held up her bag. “I also brought breakfast.”
“Yay!”
Marie nearly had another close encounter with Honoka’s lap-filling tits as she lunged for the bag. She peeled off the plastic and held the stack of boxes over those wobbling melons.
Marie said, “The top one is eclairs, the middle is crullers, and the bottom is…”
Honoka was already peeking in the boxes, trying to sneak an éclair without dropping the whole stack. “Cream puffs, cream puffs?”
“Of course, it’s cream puffs.”
“Hooray!”
Honoka leapt for joy, holding the bounty over her head. Her massive honkers careened upward half a second later than the rest of her, and when her feet hit the floor, they plunged down to her knees before springing back. The entire cabin seemed to shake. If Marie’s project continued the way it had, those boobs would be big enough to bounce off the floor in another month or two.
She pranced toward the sofa, already munching on an éclair. “I’m so glad you brought snacks. The manager sent me a package of cream puffs for breakfast, but that was hours ago.”
Marie had seen the staff making the Manager’s morning gift deliveries in the rain on her way to the bakery. Even with the rain slowing everyone down, Honoka had gotten her cream puffs forty minutes ago, at most. As she joined her on the sofa, Marie used her phone to order room service: four more boxes of pastries. Whether they arrived before the first batch was devoured, Marie’s money was on Honoka.
***
The rain and gloomy weather continued for weeks. Marie Rose bought herself better rain gear on Lady Helena’s card: a cute, transparent raincoat, waterproof shoes, and a dome-like umbrella she only used when the wind wasn’t too bad. She went to Cardamom every morning, and they hung out all day. They watched dramas and anime while Honoka snacked, they talked endlessly while Honoka grazed, and they even got a game console delivered so they could play together while Honoka munched.
After a few days, Honoka stopped getting daily gifts of cream puffs from the Manager. But Marie Rose had already scheduled her own repeating delivery order—the same box of cream puffs with a second of the baker’s choice—to arrive first thing in the morning before she got there. Honoka didn’t even notice the day she got two boxes instead of three, so Marie added a second random package to her recurring order.
Without having to chase the woman down or suggest activities, all Marie Rose had to do was keep the food coming. She rotated through every eatery on the island, alternating sweet and savory so Honoka wouldn’t get bored. During their first day stuck inside, Honoka ate as much as she had in three days in the sun. By Marie’s fourth morning at Cardamom, Honoka’s greedy boobs seemed to be growing as much in a day as they had in a week before the rain.
Marie stretched theatrically, careful not to bump her companion’s flanks. Honoka was taking up more of the sofa all the time, her ballooning bazookas filling her lap past her knees. “I should probably head back to my room.”
“Already?” Honoka said through a mouthful of caramel corn.
Marie laughed. “I’ve been here over twelve hours.”
“Just one more episode?”
“I really shouldn’t…”
Honoka tossed another handful of sugary corn into her mouth. “You don’t want to walk home in the dark, do you?”
“Hey! First it’s too early for me to leave, now it’s too late?”
“You should just stay. We’ll have a sleepover!”
“I don’t know…”
Honoka leaned into Marie, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into her side-boob. “Come on, please? I have a double bed—there’s plenty of space! Please? Please, Marie? Please, please, pleaseeeeee!”
Marie laughed, pushing Honoka away and getting a handful of boob for her efforts. “Fine, I’ll stay. Now unhand me, woman!”
Honoka’s room was indeed furnished with a double bed, though “plenty of space” was a bit of an overstatement. Staying later and watching more TV meant more snacks, of course. Unless she wanted to cuddle up to her friend’s overfed endowments—grown even larger with several extra hours of her company—Marie was left to perch near the edge of the mattress. The twin in her servant’s quarters at Lady Helena’s estate was more spacious than the “half” of the bed not occupied by Honoka’s obese orbs.
Another week of this, and I’ll end up sleeping on the sofa.