The Cyclopean Succubus was dead quiet, not a soul in sight. Not that such a state was unusual for the sleepy little lewd magic shop on the corner of Pent and Audreyghast. Supposedly there was some ribald humor about the shop's title that was supposed to titillate people and draw them in. Helmi didn't really get it, but she wasn't being paid to, she supposed. It was just a part-time gig, really. Her landlord was made of stone—quite literally—and as such not amenable to making up the difference in rent with a good time. The wretched spoilsport.
 
What would normally be yet another dreary day waiting behind the counter for a single-digit number of customers to file along, trudging through the aisles of mysterious bubbling ointments, conveniently shaped gel-slimes, and edible self-repairing lingerie had some unexpected spice. That morning she'd been getting all dressed up. Fortunately, her favorite outfit fit the shop's vibe perfectly, so she'd slipped it on again without a second thought. All tight spandex with a goofy pauldron, those red gemstones that she thought contrasted so delightfully with her eyes, and a lovely little choker. It left perilously little to the imagination, and while she was gleefully admiring herself in the mirror of her spartan little room, she realized very abruptly she was carrying some extra weight. Then she spotted the tip of her tail peeking out from behind a calf, shouted something obscene in Abyssal that won't be repeated here, and fell right on her plush backside.
 
She'd wrapped up tight in a cloak to keep the thing under control and walked quickly to work. Here though, alone in the shop, she'd let it loose just to get a better look. Her whole tail was noticeably thicker, but the star of this disconcerting show was the tip. Where the cute little spade she'd so carefully cultivated had been there was instead a strange oblong bulb. It ended in a small opening ringed with soft, springy, and apparently very moist and upsettingly sensitive flesh. It refused to listen to her like usual, so she hauled the bulb up and set it on the counter to get a better look at her inexplicable new limb.
 
And it yawned wider in her face, the bulb blossoming out like a beautiful and terrible carnal flower, wider around than her head, maybe her shoulders if it kept going. That same wet spongy flesh she thought was just a small opening coated the whole interior of the apparatus, and a fresh trail of drool dribbled down from the softly pulsing tunnel in the center onto the wood it rested on. Helmi shivered, blinked, and swallowed, maybe in that order, and stood there transfixed by it. Was it looking at her? Impossible, she thought, it was part of her. An unexpected and persistent mutation of her shapechanging, perhaps, but it was still her body, made from her will to some degree. As if responding to her confusion and discomfort the flower shriveled half-closed, remaining a bizarre wet cone at the end of her tail.
 
The succubus stood there for a while with one elbow braced on the counter and hand on her chin, the other hand idly drumming the countertop. She stared at the bulb, like she was afraid it'd do something else even stranger if she dared to break eye contact. Helmi had worked very hard to find the form she felt most comfortable inhabiting. It'd taken years and years of trial and error, and she was very happy with what she'd achieved. Sure, having hips wider than her shoulders caused an issue or two with doorways. Vanishingly little clothing was made to encompass her absurd bustline, or to fit such bountiful thighs, but those little struggles were worth it. The thought that now, after she'd settled for some time, she might be changing again involuntarily troubled her. She missed the cute little spade the bulb had replaced. It was classic and a maybe a little cheesy, but it was hers.
 
Her reverie was broken by the dull ring of the front door's alarm charm. Helmi startled and scrambled to look professional, hands clasped behind her and chest puffed out enticingly. The customer wasn't too unusual for the Cyclopean Succubus' usual clientele. Short with all tan cinnamon skin and bountiful curves, the redhead might've been wearing less than Helmi clad in some silly strapped get-up, with hair tied back in a ponytail. She carried herself with the kind of confidence Helmi had only seen in warriors, despite the skimpy display. Cute as a button, all things considered. The succubus stood behind the counter awkward and quiet while she scanned the shelves, looking for something in particular maybe. The redhead turned to her and gave her a winning, heart-melting smile for maybe a moment—a practiced maneuver to be sure— and turned her attention back to the shelves, rubbing a cheek thoughtfully. She looks downright delicious, Helmi thought, followed up by wait, she looks what?
 
Helmi shook the thought out of her brain and fired back with her best customer service smile, eyes almost closed and grinning to show off her pearly white chompers. "How can I guide you to your pleasure today, friend?"
 
"No, that's okay, y' don't have to do that," the redhead replied, waving a hand dismissively.
 
"I don't— uh, what?" Helmi muttered, blinking through the confusion. Maybe not a typical customer, then.
 
"You don't hafta do the whole customer service routine. Seen it before. Maybe a little more like home than usual, but there's always a cute witch or a mysterious old man or a hot demon," she said with a sidelong wink, "That's gonna try to upsell me on some magical trinket or offload a curse. S'fine, you can take it easy."
 
"Oh." The succubus pursed her lips pensively and clasped her hands. The redhead busied herself digging through the shelves and swaying her hips delectably behind herself, discarding objects that didn't fit her apparent criteria right back on other shelves where they didn't belong. She had no apparent interest in the tentacan, though her hand did linger on the edible lingerie for a suspicious few extra moments. No love for the inhibition choker, the aura-activated manacles, or the Leviathan tattoo kit either, Helmi noted.
 
"Okay, come on. This is a sex shop, right? Where the heck do you keep the oil and lube?" The redhead shouted indignantly, more for herself than Helmi. "That kinda thing should be front and center, if you ask me," she added more quietly.
 
"Are you after something specific? Maybe I can help!" Helmi called out, still standing rod-straight behind the counter. She felt her new tail flex slightly on the countertop, sliding an inch or two forward. Her back went straighter, if such a thing were possible, and she mentally shouted at it to behave and sit still.
 
The redhead turned to regard Helmi, then bounced and jiggled her way to the counter. That outfit was a piece of work, Helmi thought. Vertical black straps from crotch to shoulder covered her tits but left a tiny bit of areola peeking out, and sets of three completely useless bands on her arms and legs only served to highlight how squishy and tender her thighs were. She leaned forward on her elbows and peeked coquettishly up through her bangs at the succubus. "Well," she murmured in a breathy tone, "I'm looking for some body oil. Real slippery stuff. The kinda thing that murders traction and could let 'ya squeeze out of a tight spot. Got anything like that for me, tall, dark, and brimstone?"
 
Helmi swallowed hard. She was so much more up close, it was almost overwhelming. The girl smelled like watermelon and paprika, and she kept wiggling just right to set the succubus off. "Um, uh. Yes. Mhm," Helmi fumbled with too-emphatic nod or two, before she tried closing her eyes to concentrate, "Pink ooze extract. Body safe, dissolves on its own after four hours or with a command word on the bottle. I can find you some, if you like!"
 
"That would be lovely of you, sweetheart. Before you go: what's this thing you've got here? Looks kinda cute, in a weird way."
 
Helmi looked down, and guessed it was pretty unclear from the angle that the bulb—Cone? Flower? Mouth? She had to figure out what to call this thing—was part of her. The redhead was bent forward head first, finger inching out to prod it like a kid pokes an unusual object with a stick. She didn't know why, but in that instant Helmi had a pretty good idea of what was coming next, and her face went pale. She reached out to push her away and mumble-shouted something impotent like "Wait, no!" or perhaps "Look out!"
 
The maw—and it was definitely a maw now, that much was as clear as the freshly cleaned shop window—yawned wide, its plated petals blossoming out to expose connective tissue. The hole at the center pulsed with more lubricating saliva. For her part, the redhead seemed to recognize the threat, but the only response she mustered was a shocked open-mouthed smirk and muttering "Aw. Not again." before Helmi's maw surged forward and engulfed her head, reducing whatever came next to a muffled "Mph!"
 
Panicking and confused, Helmi couldn't do much other than wring her hands. "Oh gosh. Oh no. What do I do!?" she worried. The mouth on the end of her tail had no such concerns as it undulated and pulsed, pulling itself forward over the squirming and struggling customer's shoulders despite her best efforts to yank it free. With her shoulders captured and nothing in reach to give her legs proper leverage the redhead was left dangling over the counter wriggling like fish out of water. Helmi's tail took its time swallowing her down, peristalsis catching on in full force despite a momentary struggle to fit her massive tits through the maw.
 
Just like that, Helmi was alone in the shop again. Aside from, of course, the drooling mouth-thing at the end of her tail and the big ol' lump of redhead weighing her down just inside said tail. She collapsed, her butt suffering such a drop for the second time in as many hours, and pulled herself next to the lump. The succubus prodded it nervously and called out to her... well, captive, she supposed. "Um, are you, uh, okay in there?"
 
The response was muffled and hard to make out, but Helmi was pretty sure it was a moan of pleasure, which set her cheeks and the tips of her ears fully ablaze with crimson flush.
 
"Because, um. You sound like you're okay. I don't know if I can like, get you out?"
 
"Thash fine. I'm ushed to it. Pretty cozy and warm in here, akshually," the redhead slurred out. At least it seems like she's having fun, Helmi thought.
 
"Are you sure about that? It really doesn't seem very— hah!" Helmi's legs went rigid as her customer squirmed so delightfully inside her, a wave of pleasure twisting up her belly in a knot. "Hah... very um, wow, safe?"
 
"Guesh I'm your firsht? Neat!"
 
It didn't seem very neat to Helmi, but the joyful satisfaction of having the girl in there was definitely eating away at her fear and confusion at a rapid pace. Her maw rotated slightly on the counter, shuddered, and let out a surprisingly petite 'burp!' It certainly didn't help with Helmi's blushing situation.
 
Whoever the redhead was before, now they were reduced to a moaning and squirming belly stuffer as Helmi's new tail worked the magic it had been subconsciously invented for. It squeezed every inch of the redhead, leaving no crevice or patch of skin untouched by so, so many slick, spongy surfaces as radial contraction pulled her achingly slowly up its length. Helmi lost track of time around the part where the new tail she made on accident swallowed a customer whole and alive, but she figured it had to have been at least half an hour at this point.
 
Every aching bit of progress the redhead made up her tail, the succubus felt. It was like its internal length was coated with hyper-sensitive tongues, each getting their own excited taste of the girl. When she squirmed or struggled it was overwhelming, shocks of pleasure shooting up her abyssal pseudo-spine. And the flavor! Helmi had never favored material food, but this was unreal. She was like the most tender, satisfying brisket, seasoned with a fine cinnamon rub. This was impossible, of course; it was just the redhead's silky smooth skin safely rubbing against her, but something deep inside her interpreted it as a divine meal. The intense but muffled moans coming from her tail told Helmi her meal was enjoying this too: that sound could only be made by a girl in the throes of a focus-shattering orgasm, which was nourishing in its own way!
 
The redhead finally reached the base of Helmi's tail, which bulged wide like the rest of its length had to accommodate her passage. Helmi had long since ambled off—with no small difficulty, given the weight—to find a chair. The succubus perched there, sitting across the chair sideways on account of no chair back in the world being made to accommodate this, as the redhead was deposited from her back directly into her belly. She must have made some internal adjustments too, she thought. There was a soft thump as the girl tumbled forward. For her part she'd folded up quite neatly to fit, though Helmi now looked obscenely gravid with the full-grown girl neatly curled up and squirming in her tummy, occasional little bulges becoming apparent on the surface.
 
"Kinda tingly. Thatsh new. S'nice."
 
Helmi frowned slightly. Her body wasn't really made to digest anything physical, though that could have changed. That train of thought was rudely interrupted by an embarrassing gurgle rising from her absurdly over-stuffed belly, and another petite belch: this time from mouth prime. Assuming her 'digestive' system hadn't changed much, the redhead was going to have to rest in there for a long, long time unless the succubus could invent a way to get her out. But, being honest with herself, she wasn't sure either of them really wanted that anyway. Helmi felt full in a way she never really had before, but then again, she supposed, she'd never had a meal quite as filling as the redhead. She took a deep breath, heaving her breasts that were now settled on top of her belly, found roughly where her meal's head was, and gave it a satisfied headpat-bellyrub combo.
 
The succubus had re-oriented herself on the chair and tilted her head against its back, when she was shocked back to reality. A rather sizeable part of her wanted to lean back and just enjoy this moment with the mystery redhead. The part of her still capable of shame recognized the ring of the alarm charm and remembered she was supposed to be working right now. Her legs scrabbled against the floor to push herself into a presentable pose with her belly conveniently hidden under the counter.
 
She put on her best smile, folded her arms in front of her, and tried to call out to the new customer. "Welcome to the Cyclopean Succubus, where- ah!"
 
Helmi was interrupted by a sudden movement in her belly that nearly made her cross her legs in response, save for the stomach impeding such a maneuver. It was followed up by a muted "Shorry, force 'a habit." The apology didn't sound very genuine to Helmi. She groaned and let one of her hands fall back to that same spot, placating her passenger with surreptitious head-rubs.
 
Looking back up at the newcomer, Helmi startled. They were tall, with long, pointed ears and sharp, grim features. Ashen gray skin and a raised nose like a thick fish hook. They wore a high-cropped green jacket over what looked like clean white bandages bound across their chest, and tight black slacks that clung to defined legs. They glowered down at her with a single cocked eyebrow, waiting impatiently for a response.
 
Helmi stared up at the elven customer in a protractedly pregnant pause before it clicked that they must have said something she failed to catch. "Apologies, how can I, ah, help you?" Her lips split into an awkward smile and one of her ears flicked unconsciously.
 
They pointed at the set of shelves the redhead had thoroughly disorganized. "Your shelves are a mess. I'm looking for the tentacans. Show me where to find them." There was a distinct edge of haste and disappointment in their tone, spoken with a voice rough like aging coral.
 
"Right! Right. Right away." Helmi planted her hands on the counter and pushed herself to her feet. This was much, much more of a struggle than she'd anticipated, and the effort was exacerbated by the redhead writhing in her belly, just about doing a flip despite the snug quarters. The succubus had to pause and lean forward with a hand still bracing the wood for support, huffing to muffle what would have otherwise been moans escaping her throat.
 
She looked back up at the elf and caught another disdainfully cocked eyebrow.
 
"I'm... uh..." Helmi wracked her brain for an excuse and latched onto the first concept she found. "I'm pregnant," she uttered flatly.
 
"Good for you. The tentacans?"
 
"Right." Her cheeks and ears could have lit up a cloudy night sky as a beacon miles out. It didn't help that she wasn't in any state to hop the counter, and had to waddle her way to the swinging door set into the far side of the counter. She could have sworn she heard the redhead giggling—what was so funny?—but it could have just been her stomach gurgling from the effort.
 
Eventually, she found what the elven customer was after. A matte purple cylinder capped with smooth hemispheres on either end and printed with a salacious woodcut of a scaled lady apparently very much enjoying the object's intended effects. She handed it off to them and was confronted with that dang eyebrow for the third time as she hustled back to her chair behind the counter and settled back into it with a deep sigh and another belch.
 
The elf dug a few coins out of a pouch and left them on the counter before striding away. They paused half-way to the door and looked back over their shoulder. "I know what kind of shop this is, but you could stand to do that somewhere private. It's unprofessional." Without a second look they shoulder checked the door open and disappeared into the foggy streets outside.
 
Helmi was stunned and embarrassed and humiliated and a whole slew of other words describing the tumultuous feelings racing through her head (and stomach). She groaned and leaned forward, laying an arm on the counter and stuffing her face into the crook of her elbow. At least this felt nice. The snug tightness in her belly was oddly comforting, and when the redhead kicked, squirmed, or shuffled she felt it in full, like her whole belly had become blissfully sensitive. It was good, and if the moans she could hear and feel were anything to gauge it by, the feeling was mutual. She could get used to this.
 
All the same, it was an awful lot to process. There was a whole other person inside her, after all, and not in the typical sense; a fact the redhead was quick to remind her of by writhing in that lovely little way she couldn't ignore. She could really use a break. Maybe just resting her eyes for a little bit...
 
---
 
Must have dozed off, the succubus thought as she yawned and wiped the sleep from her eyes. At least the alarm charm hadn't woken her, so she hadn't been seen sleeping at the store front. She stretched, arms high as she leaned back in the chair, and noticed something rather alarming: her belly was much, much smaller now. Bloated for sure, and dwarfing even her prodigious rack, but not with the volume of a whole person. Dread crept into her heart. Had something serious changed with her internally, too?
 
Shocked hands pressed on the greatly diminished dome of her stomach, the only response being a noticeable squish as the contents audibly sloshed under her hurried investigation. Rather than anything more substantial, she felt as if she'd somehow been stuffed to the brim with a few dozen gallons of very thick pudding. Her stuffed gut gurgled smugly, as if suggesting that even the very idea of there being something solid inside her was too ridiculous to even consider, but if she'd just give it another hour or two it'd be totally down for something a bit less fluid. What had she done?
 
With perfect timing, the alarm charm rung out in the mostly empty shop floor, and Helmi looked up. It was, inexplicably, the redhead. Whole and unharmed, and grinning with absolute and unshakeable confidence. She all but skipped up to the counter, stopping a few prudent feet short of it.
 
"What? What happened? How?"
 
"I've bounced back from worse!" The redhead declared to the completely flabbergasted succubus, proudly thumping her fist just above her substantial cleavage. This invited a confused mix of emotions from Helmi: relief, disbelief, and most of all, sheer morbid curiosity.