Yuri Worlds
[9] Mothers
Misaki‘s first inkling was to deem it a warning call from the company, wrapped in cloak and dagger, feeling like random Internet myths about prestigious film and television producers trying to keep plot lines secret. When one of their performers accidentally spills more spoilers than they should, they ring them like a wannabe MIB and give an ominous warning. Only this iteration clearly wasn’t meant in jest. What could they have possibly done wrong?
The call went to Chika‘s phone, and she was the primary party in the travel promotion. But her friend had been a saint! Guy literally read through the entire legal document without crowdsourcing it. One stream even riffed on the more interesting choices of language within. And he got permission to do that and felt entirely in the clear because there was no associated NDA. They put what could well be spyware on Chika‘s phone too. Was this a warning because she had managed to circumvent it on the train? The entire process of dealing with TA until this point was upfront and without obfuscation. This was the strongest possible answer, but it still didn’t make sense to Misaki.
Other possibilities? Perhaps someone local and associated with the company was involved. The real, regular version of this part of the world sometimes expressed subtle and overt hostilities toward outsiders. But even if some random girl in this world decided that she didn’t like them being here and recognized what they were from the wristbands they wore, she would still have to be some sort of expert hacker specifically targeting them.
Namiko and Chika both seemed like they were stymied for what to make of this too.
“Hey. Can I talk to you about something?” Yasha stood up from the bed and approached them. Her mood was remarkably different than just a few minutes ago. She appeared strikingly reserved, with her jaw clenched tight, almost as though in pain, and her arms dipped to her sides. Her striking eyes didn’t pierce at them but anxiously wandered. They looked at one another and invited her to speak about what she had on her mind.
“I want to apologize for my behavior since we met. Not the best day for me before I started my trip. There’s usually a group of associates I travel with. They had to reschedule, but I wanted to proceed. Luck of the draw that we wound up together. I’m the odd one out. Doesn’t seem like we hang in the same circles. However, we should do our best to get along. Fair enough?”
She put out her slight hand sideways, and they each shook on it. Questions about the peculiar phone call circulated between the three of them after that, but no amount of speculation made any headway. If Yasha knew more, she didn’t volunteer it. Namiko wiggled in place and quietly inquired if Yuka or her sister mentioned where the closest bathroom was. Misaki didn’t recall but suspected it would be fairly easy to find one. She led the way.
To the left would just take them back around to the staircase, and immediately to the right was the traditional room Yuka showed off. Tracing around the periphery of the second floor, it didn’t take long to find the place Nami needed. Unfortunately, it was just a narrow space with a sink, a large mirror, and some cabinets on the side. Poking around, Namiko felt quiet relief when she discovered the toilet over to the left in a small, separate room. The tank attached to one side separate from the bowl. She raised her almost-red eyebrows at the pair of slippers in front of her. Prancing over them, she sealed the door and went about her business.
Misaki took the opportunity to inspect the rest of the room. The door opposite opened into exactly the sort of shower and tub combination she expected to see from general research. A padded plastic stool sat on the edge of the tub, with a nice bucket next to it. A series of towels were strung up and labeled for guests. The tub might be big enough to hold two of them. It appeared especially deep. Misaki suspected that stretching out would comfortably submerge her head if the tub was filled with water.
Returning to the main part of the bathroom, she took a deep breath and surveyed her reflection. Looking at her face was the best reminder that this world had a striking depth to it greater than simple cel shading. The room captured natural bounce light. The pink soap had the color quality of a Blender rendering without any of the cheats of animation. No low frame rate, no CGI. It just happened to be drawn, painted, and done over and over again with every little shift of her hand and sliver of light. Her brain and eyes had to come to the consensus that this wasn’t actually an animated world but just a normal world with some weird qualities. That blunted some of the majesty; she also recognized that taking it all in was beyond her senses.
Stretching out in front of the mirror, she inspected her features. A subtle accent of dark pink, split across the middle, delineated her lip from the rest of her mouth. That tricky snail started to pick up where it left off as she pursed her lips experimentally. Quietly, she tipped her head back and narrowed her eyes to give what should’ve felt like a seductive impression. The face in the mirror gave a little burp, resurrecting the phantoms of fried chicken. Misaki held in a snort.
Tilting her head to the left, she gave a sharp pout with her lips turned down in a displeased scowl. A blooming wad of tongue rippled and swelled out of her mouth. Pulling on her face with a little flare of buck teeth led to even more goofiness. A zombie pose with stretched arms and rolled eyes wasn’t easy to hold in the mirror to appraise, but it still made her giggle. The reflected face was not her own, but it intimately responded to every motion. Before she knew it, Namiko returned and was standing right beside her. She got in her Play-Doh wiggles too. And they couldn’t leave Chika out.
Of course, Chika was the most skilled face contortionist, with especially seductive expressions that seemed like enough to make the mirror girl want to climb out and wrap her arms around her. The modest space didn’t really have enough room for the three of them to play out their poses. Chika nearly got clocked by Namiko because of her bust and responded, “Are these the boobs that ruined Christmas?” Misaki vaguely recalled that reference, recognizing that it was one of those shows that Dwight and Guy sometimes watched together.
Namiko laid her hands underneath. “I don’t know. They’re sweaty mother-milkers though. Pretty sure this top will only be useful as a tent for small circus animals after I’m through with it. They’re so soft and warm. My mind races with thoughts and possibilities, but I don’t wanna make it weird. I am desperately going to need some privacy sooner or later to get in touch with my Namiko side.”
Misaki quietly harbored a similar sentiment. Chika let her hands trace around her body without actually touching anything. Amidst a series of stories better left unexplained, Gal Hotner had many adventures with prosthetics, once commenting for thousands, “The recoil on these puppies can take your head off!” Chika bounced her legs and sent playful earthquakes through her top.
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
This went on for way longer than any of them would admit afterward before Chika devolved into giggles and said, ”Come on, we better pop off before everyone thinks we’re doing something bizarre in here… Like playing with our tits. Although, now I genuinely need to use the freaking bathroom. But at least I’m living the girl dream by doing it as a group activity.”
The compact water closet earned a sigh from her, but she listened carefully as Namiko explained what she had gleaned from her initial experience. The seat was heated with a series of space-age controls along the side. A bidet was built-in but didn’t have a drying option like the last seat she experienced. A small amount of paper was situated to the side but not on a roll.
When Chika asked if it also had a tampon insertion and removal system, it took Namiko a lingering moment to realize that she was joking. They waited on her back over by the mirror.
As much wrangling as it took to keep the orbs in order for Namiko, she lamented the state of her hair. It needed brushing, lots of love, and whatever would prevent it from becoming a balance-wrecking pendulum in cahoots with the hooters.
With her usual level of concern as Franklin, Misaki asked her friend, “Are you okay? Can you manage? No need to get an adjustment back at that midway place?”
Namiko managed to find a brush put away in a side drawer and ran through some of the biggest tangles, muttering, “Awww, yeah… I’m gonna be a static-zapping machine, but worth it. And it will be fine. What else can we do? We’ve already met them. I don’t know if an explanation about a one-hour boob reduction will fly. This was my call. This is my custom bra. Now, I have to wear it. Everyone warned me, and I understood the risk. It’ll be interesting going back. From now on, looking at ladies as big as I am… I’ll still look, but there’s gonna be a whole new host of emotions going on inside me when I see them. The softness and the super squishy memory foam essence are fun, but not the sweat and the heat. Looking forward to a long shower later.”
Checking herself again, Misaki could understand that sentiment. The idea of a breast was so much different than the actuality of it. They were concepts and fascinating objects, rooted in otherness. But the intimate attachment, the extension of one’s own body… She felt like she was building towards some deep epiphany but translating that into a coherent expression eluded her. A boob is a part of you. The breast goes deep. It felt more like she was trying to reach for an awkward pun. Namiko really appreciated it though, and added, “Tit’s all right. You’re my breast friend. I won’t booby trap you into saying tit. I hope when we go to a brestaurant, that they teat me right. I want to make a joke about what happens on stairs now, but I’m shaking just thinking about it. Oh well, it’s probably for the breast.”
They were all awful jokes, but Misaki squeaked quietly with her hand-covered mouth and appreciated the cavalcade of goofiness from Namiko. The only downside was that Chika would surely lament whatever she missed when returning. Fortunately, the walls weren’t too thick, and perhaps she heard enough. But the walls weren’t too thick, and she found herself now concerned if they’d said anything that their hosts might be confused by or take issue with. That was Franklin thinking though, and she did her best not to dwell on it.
Chika folded up the door to the toilet, closed it behind her, and took a few breaths as she shuffled over and rejoined them. They looked at her expectantly as she seemed to be doing an impromptu breathing exercise to calm herself. It went on for quite a while as she washed her hands in the sink, even though there was fresh, flowing water in the section of the tank beside the bowl.
Only when she was prepared did Chika announce, “…… I’m a girl.”
Namiko cleared her throat slightly and offered up, “You do recall that one stream we did where I spoke metaphorically to your audience about the birds and the bees during that multiplayer session, right? Welllll, sometimes girls have penises and boys have… oh wait.” Misaki immediately craned her ears and tensed up. She didn’t stop them though.
Chika gave a quick chortle and smirked in Nami‘s direction. “All your guest appearances live on in my dreams. Whether I want them to or not. But what I’m feeling right now is kind of weird. They said there might be dysphoric side effects. I thought maybe, at first, that was it. Just an absolute sense of shell shock going from my typical, virile but enigmatic form to a friending of intimate mammaries. Step through a hole and get plastered in the tit. I have prepared and gotten adjusted, but that’s a whole other story to feeling like your entire body got instantly flipped like a turned-out sock on so many levels. I want my wiener back… Even though a pair of nuts hang around it. Water going out, the water going up, and paper going places I've gotta figure out by sonar touch. It’s crazy. How can one half to a whole society deal?…”
Someone’s knuckles rapped on the door to the bathroom, and Misaki immediately felt like her heart was going to explode out of her chest and shoot across the room. And that was the best-case scenario. She watched, not sure if she was going to tip over and bang her head against the wall, as Chika went to the door and opened it.
Yasha was on the other side, leaning against the wall with a tall cup of some reddish iced drink in one hand while her other pressed against her chin. “You three are so lucky that there’s no one upstairs. Were you screaming in here? I could hear you from halfway across the floor.” Misaki tried to confirm in a hushed voice that no one had heard them. Yasha shrugged.
“Probably. They’re busy right now. I heard plenty about holes and boobs. I don’t care what you do or say. Maybe just do it a little quieter. But their parents wanted to greet you. Follow me, or don’t. But you seemed to be making such a big deal of politeness and etiquette.” She flashed a quick grin.
The trio checked themselves again in the mirror and followed Yasha downstairs. From the front, they turned into an open space that looked almost as large as their main room back home. A pale, semi-translucent curtain divided up the space. Misaki noticed that the kitchen area was smaller than theirs but packed with amenities. Gentle box lights hung over a wide table in front of the kitchen. The older sister with white hair sat to the side with Yuka filling a jug. A pair of ladies roamed around the kitchen as though they were performing a slow but steady dance in orbit around one another.
Before Misaki could begin to take this all in, a colorful missile rocketed from the living room on their immediate right. It practically had escape velocity, with a sonic boom cone struggling to keep up. She nearly saw a swarm of exhaust plumes erupting behind it. A gleeful hug detonated on her face as the flying girl wrapped her arms around her neck. A blur of radiant blue swung her around like she was preparing for a shotput throw.
“WELCOME! Happy visitors! My mommy told me you made it! And I’m here to bring love and cheer!”