A Loan (Patreon Commission for Rychen)

“What do you mean you’re not a demoness of fertility?!”

The instructions seemed so clear, and yet now that the summoning was complete, Starry was left with nothing but complete disappointment after seeing the pathetic excuse for an imp she was left with. After trying to secure for herself a solution to her unfortunate growth woes, the vixen thought that her time being the puppet for her other selves’ whims was finally over; all she needed to do was call up a certain demonic creature of unfathomable power, seal the deal in return for that thing she had locked up inside five metal boxes, and then kick back, relax and enjoy a life with no macro growth spurts.

Except instead, she got someone who was about knee-high to her and looked to be even more annoyed that Starry herself.

“You screwed up the summoning, you dolt!” the tiny demonette replied, “You want Thlag’Derza, not Thlag’Terza!”

“Well how was I supposed to know?!” Starry bit back, throwing the book she was holding onto the couch, “Your names all sound the goddamn same!”

“Ex-cuse me?” - the imp’s tone was clearly one filled with self-righteous indignation - “You take that the fuck back, madam!”

“Well, you help me with my problem, then!”

An impasse. Both women stared at one another, each one waiting for the other to take the first step. The victorious side was all-but assured, seeing as Starry was several feet taller and all, but there was something about the ferocity with which Terza stared at her that made the vixen feel like her soul was shrinking. Maybe that was just normal for denizens of Hell, or maybe the diminutive creature had just practiced it well enough to be that powerful precisely to compensate for the lack of strength and presence. All it took was a simple misstep on her part, however, a singular blink and a slight tremble telling Starry that her guard was down, even for just a moment.

The vixen leapt onto the imp, startling the poor thing so much that the last thing it got out was an impotent “Eep!” before being completely smothered in a bosom large enough to engulf her completely. Trapped in warm darkness, she struggled against her captor’s grasp, before finally being released a few moments later… into a large cardboard box that smelt suspiciously like wrapping paper. She tried to push the lid, only to find it had either been taped shut, or some large weight had been placed on it; judging from how closely Starry sounded, said weight was probably her ass.

“You’re not coming out until you help me with my growth problem!” the vixen stated, sounding quite sure of herself.

“Screw you then, I’ll stay inside!”

The small demon’s response was as true as it could be, with her remaining steadfastly silent and unmoving regardless of how much verbal battering she was on the receiving end of. She was forced to listen to Starry ranting and raving about her poor luck until her own ears were beginning to ache, and if not for her refusal to give the vixen any satisfaction, Terza would’ve screamed at her summoner to shut up and go take her moping elsewhere. Unfortunately bereft of any options, the diminutive demonic creature had to sit down and wait until the spell wore off, she was sent back for whatever reason, or some other opportunity presented itself. Seeing as the box she was in got unceremoniously kicked into a closet and had a door slam next to it… this might take a while.

Her solitude wasn’t the issue; the imp was so old that she could be stuck in that box for entire generations of Starry’s family and it still wouldn’t even come close to comparing to the full breadth of her life experience. No, her main problem was that she had business downstairs, business she was rudely yanked from without her consent by some amateur magician with more tits than brains; it was insulting, a waste of her time and, perhaps most importantly, a serious breach of etiquette. Starry was lucky she didn’t summon an actual, proper demoness of fertility; the unwanted booty call would probably lead to a lot of dead vixen being pulled straight back to Hell alongside the “captured” summon. Still, with nothing better to do, all the imp could try was to break out of the box, which her small stature and insignificant strength made extremely difficult, borderline impossible; it’d be easier to move mountains with a spell, and she couldn’t even do that because the summoning had limited her ability to draw upon her magic!

She would remain there, alone, for what she assumed was a full night judging from the loud, hours-long snoring coming from somewhere nearby and the creaking of bedsprings to accompany it. Morning came some time later, and with it the sounds of the doors to the closet opening, as well as a grumbling vixen loudly wondering what to do with the boxed imp. Still mad at the unwanted summoning, Terza remained as quiet as ever, only ever breaking her vow of silence when the box was nearly upturned before being dragged along the ground, Starry halfheartedly declaring that, if she couldn’t send her back, then at least she could keep an eye on her when going to work.

“Wait, can’t send me back?!” the imp immediately retorted, cursing herself for speaking up, “What do you mean, can’t send me back?!”

“Do you think I wouldn’t have already returned you to sender if I could?” Starry grumbled, “I tried to break the summoning circle, restarting the incantation, reverting it, I don’t know! I can’t send you back, it doesn’t work anymore.”

Such an immense display of complete and utter incompetence would’ve been hilarious, had the imp not been trapped inside a box she couldn’t escape from. Her immediate reaction was to start cackling at the absurdity, right before going back to fuming at the sheer audacity of being treated like some kind of unwanted luggage or a particularly unruly pet. She’d be stuck in that mental corner for several days as well; not needing to drink, eat or even sleep, all the imp could do was sit and wait for an opportunity to present itself, which wasn’t at all helped by her box being kept inside an extremely stuffy locker room with a busted AC unit. She was used to literally hellish temperatures, but at no point did the imp assume she was going to be thrown into the oven herself!

Fortunately, something happened that gave her an out. It was imperceptible at first, but as the days turned to weeks she began noticing something was off about Starry. Her body wasn’t hers, but neither was it anyone else’s; Terza had heard stories about beings like those, who for one reason or another become a nexus for their many alternate selves spread throughout the timelines. The imp herself didn’t personally know anyone like that, but a few of her superiors claimed to have made dealings with some, having described their raw power as so delectable and irresistible that the mortals nearly always got a much better deal than they should; being able to draw upon a literal infinity tended to do that.

For Terza, this meant convenient access to an endless wellspring of possibilities; Starry’s nature wasn’t readily apparent, given the imp had maybe two minutes of direct contact with her before being shoved into the box, but when the tiny demonette began noticing her body wasn’t as tiny as it used to be, things began to make a lot more sense. The infrequent discussions on bloating, the care taken to mop up “milk spills”, even the odd groaning noises that didn’t come from any throat she could identify... Starry was a grower, and not only that, her influence seemed to extend to others as well.

Keying in on this power was easy as soon as she confirmed it was there, a brilliant moment of insight fueled by her burning need to get as far away from that incompetent summoner as she could, as quickly as inhumanly possible. The imp welcomed the sudden rush of energy, even if it was just scraps compared to what everyone else got; with her talents and knowledge of the arcane arts, it was more than sufficient to help her body burgeon outwards with renewed excitement, and for a few blissful hours (or days, it was hard to tell at times), Terza enjoyed the simple pleasures of developing curves for herself. Not being a succubus, or otherwise employed with the Sub-Ministry for Debauchery or any of its many, many divisions and sub-contractors, the imp had never had the opportunity to truly live up to her dream body. At no point did she ever have the opportunity to deal in souls in any significant degree, being the mid-level bureaucrat she was, so being able to give herself a pair of tits and some nice, shapely hips for free was something akin to a fantasy come alive.

It had to end eventually, though; much as Terza enjoyed the process of outgrowing the box, it was still a limited, confined space. Even then, she made sure to time it to maximize the theatrics of it, ending up choosing the moment just before being locked inside the closet again. Bursting free from the taped-up prison of cardboard she had been confined to for so long, Terza shouted at the top of her lungs and frightened the vixen so much she tripped over and landed on the grounded, flattened and covered by a pair of breasts that were noticeably much larger than when the imp had last seen them.

Her speech was long, winded, and extremely well-practiced given the amount of times the not-so-diminutive imp had run through it in her head. She cast a whole bunch of (non-existent) curses upon Starry and her line, maledictions and vituperations of the highest caliber; in more polite company, she would’ve actually felt terrible for even thinking such things, but that amateur had locked her in a box for the better part of a month, so as far as Terza cared, every syllable was well-earned. Then, in a flash of heat and brimstone, she vanished, reappearing a few moments later inside of her office, thankfully fully dressed in a new attire that better fit her improved self.

She found a group of smaller imps clearing it out, clearly surprised to see the former owner of that workspace suddenly show up looking like she had taken an extended trip to a cosmetic surgery clinic. A few well-placed threats later, Terza was informed that, after her “unfortunate summoning incident”, her department manager officially declared her as “temporarily displaced” and officially replaced her with someone else in the hierarchy. This was to be expected; the cogs had to keep turning, and no one was to blame that the vixen turned out to completely miss her target. No, what truly angered Terza to no end was who they chose to replace her.

“You gave Flentil my job? Flentil?!” she shouted at her boss, who remained entirely nonplussed despite his subordinate now being taller than him, as well as actively hostile, “That bastard can barely tell a soul apart from a jar full of sparkles and you gave it to him?!”

“Flentil has proven himself to be quite capable in your absence,” the smaller imp replied, taking a sip from a glass of firewater, “in addition, I don’t know why you’re even here at all. You know we don’t accept workers with outstanding debts.”

Outstanding de-

… oh no.

“... you don’t mean…”

“I’m afraid I do, Terza,” her now-former boss sighed, “you didn’t ask for any of that nexus energy you took from her, nor did you bargain for it. I understand the circumstances were exceptional, but as far as the hierarchy cares, you’re in debt to her.”

He took another sip. And another sigh.

“So fix it.”

Much as Terza wanted to punch that smug face inwards, the other imp was right. As long as her body was infused by the energies that made it what it was, she was technically indebted to Starry, even if the vixen herself wasn’t aware of it; therefore, she could either return what she “lent” from her, or do something to even out the scales. And she wasn’t going to make herself smaller, not after all the trouble she went through to become as (comparatively) gorgeous as she was.

Grumbling, the demonette snapped her fingers and reappeared inside her prior summoner’s bedroom, startling her just as much as her departure had a few minutes before. The vixen had just barely managed to scramble to her feet after being buried under her own curves, only to topple again and grunt something about her tits being heavy. Not being one for flashy introductions after everything that had happened, Terza opted for a more direct approach.

“Stole some of your growth juice, bosses don’t like me being in debt, gotta help you,” she rattled off, “so let’s get this over with as soon as possible so I can go the fuck back home, thanks.”

Starry’s response came only after much grumbling and gnashing of teeth, the vixen unable to do anything at all while her lungs were being compressed by a chest that had burgeoned to such an absurd size. The imp could’ve done something about it, but felt it was best to teach that woman a lesson about self-sufficiency; maybe that way she wouldn’t accidentally summon her back whenever they needed their tits drained and instead focus on buying a set of breast pumps.

“W-well, could you help me get up, p-please?” the furried tittymonster at last replied, stretching a hand out towards a very unhappy demonic helper. Terza sighed and rolled her eyes, but did as intended; settling debts wasn’t an exact science, but as long as she was doing something for them without asking for any payment, it counted in one way or another. That it was a complete turnaround from her prior position didn’t seem to register with her.

Explanations were long and drawn-out, with the demonette drilling Starry on everything she knew about her own powers, her status as a nexus between timelines, and what kind of growth issues she usually dealt with. The vixen, for her part, explained that the past couple of weeks had been exceptionally hard on her, as despite her constant milkings and even her own boss at work doing double-shifts on drinking from her, she’d been steadily growing to the size the imp was seeing then. It happened sometimes, and it usually led to her experiencing an equally-long period of draining; it was her coming out of such a cycle that motivated her to summon a demoness of fertility, at least before it started all over again.

This presented an interesting conundrum for Terza, as while it was possible to fix the problem, it was so many leagues above her ability to do so that the only real solution would be to call a higher-level demonic creature and then ask for a boon. Problem was, doing so would only shift the debt the imp owed from a mortal to someone directly above her in the hellish hierarchy, and if there was one thing you never wanted to do, it was owe favours to another demon; could never trust those bastards.

Nonetheless, Terza insisted she was there to help, conveniently forgetting to mention that it was completely out of her ability to do so, instead leading the vixen to believe she might be of some assistance. Her plan was simple: hang around her summoner, assist in whatever’s required, and as soon as the debt was considered paid off, immediately shunt herself back into Hell and forget this whole sordid affair ever happened. It was quite simple, which is exactly why it starting to fall apart almost immediately after it began worried the imp deeply.

The transformative energies surrounding Starry never went away; they were a fundamental part of her, as inextricable as a soul would be, hence the need for “specialized” assistance from down below. And being always there, and so succulent in how available they were, they presented a significant issue for Terza’s ability to concentrate. Her body was already a piece of fine art, sculpted by her own hands into something resembling a private fantasy, but being a creature born of the darkest pits of depravity, there was always room for more, at least as far as her desires cared. This was one of the reasons very few demons ever bothered interacting with a mortal nexus, much less tried to make a deal with one; it was about as easy for them to concentrate on business as it was for a starving man to ignore a feast in order to fill out paperwork. Their innate nature made the allure too irresistible, to the point where there were cautionary tales about dealmakers turned into pets, sometimes completely inadvertently.

And that’s where Terza was headed.

The first day of her supposed redemption went along swimmingly, with her staying at home to clean the place, organize everything that happened to be strewn about (ie, most of everything Starry owned) and prepare dinner. It was humiliating and denigrating for someone who was so used to dealing with far more important matters of the soul, but it was literally something, and therefore it counted. The second the vixen returned home, however, whatever meagre amount of the debt she had paid off was not only nullified but then made even worse when Terza began to drink from her summoner’s source of power. It was entirely unconscious at first; one moment the imp was fine, the other her clothes began to strain and Starry was asking her if she was having an allergic reaction. Before she knew it, Terza’s minute pants began to rip and her button-up shirt lost a few of its trademarks buttons when her bust developed a few extra cup sizes. And when that happened, suddenly her goal just didn’t make that much sense anymore.

At least for a time. It was like a temporary high, one that came crashing down just as quickly as it showed up and left her reeling so hard that Terza felt like smashing her head against the wall for being stupid enough to fall for it. Yet every time she felt it, that surge approaching her from the other side of the door, every thought of clearing away her debt seemed to melt in the face of another opportunity to grow. It was affecting Starry as well, which made it even harder to resist; the vixen’s body was growing thicker by the day, her hips in particular flaring out almost as much as her breasts were engorging, until just entering her apartment turned into a chore… one that the imp was happy to assist her with, being as it was a perfect opportunity to grab some large amount of fox plush and sink her hands into an ass that grew fatter by the day.

The demonette herself was digging herself even deeper as her “servitude” prolonged itself for days upon days more than intended. After a point, she barely even remembered why she was in that place to begin with; her time was mostly spent exploring her body and its new curves while the vixen was off working or doing whatever she needed to do, only for the two of them to then barely get a good could of hours of sleep come bedtime. While initially Starry was reluctant to allow Terza to hop onto her bed, her mind was changed after a chance “brush up” against her new roommate’s body, a simple, completely-totally-accidental gesture on both their parts that led to so much milk leaking onto everywhere that the demonic succubus-in-the-making had to spend the following day cleaning it off the walls and bottling it up for future distribution; waste not want not!

At one point, her workplace decided to send someone to check up on what she was doing; having effectively gone AWOL and being far too enamored by the idea of tapping into Starry’s power to do anything else, Terza had effectively left her boss in the dark as to what was happening topside. Fully expecting to see the imp as she was after returning from the first summoning, the poor messenger ended up smacking headfirst into what he assumed was a large, somehow incredibly solid pillow someone left hanging in the middle of the room. It wasn’t until the tiny demon recovered from their self-inflicted concussion that they saw what it really was, and once that happened, no words could ever leave them.

Terza was no longer an imp, at least not in appearance. As far as the hierarchy was concerned she was still a mid-level bureaucrat in charge of soul distribution, but in practice they would have a hard time even fitting her in the office at all! She had grown to be a good seven feet tall, her horns extending to a good foot and a half more, with her body’s thickness, while not exactly matching its height, still putting up a significant fight when it came to competing for attention. Each one of her asscheeks had plumped up so much that the courier imp could probably curl up inside one of them and still have some wiggle room, a feat not only matched but surpassed by her bust, which each breast easily large enough obscure most of her upper body. They hung low and wide, enough that they were wider on each side of her than the now-succubus’ diminutive torso was. Despite this, she carried them with unnatural ease, enough to make the messenger’s already red skin an even deeper crimson. Terza’s hips had thickened almost as much as her ass had, and those hips were meaty enough that they perfectly hid her constantly-drooling lower lips from sight, to say nothing of how much they rubbed against one another and her nethers.

Despite having someone bump against her rear, it took a few moments for Terza to even notice anyone was in the room at all, at which point she turned around and saw nothing, forgetting just how tall she was in comparison to her old coworkers. Only after remembering to look down, by that point having her tits loom over the terrified imp below her, did the demoness notice her former boss had sent for someone to come fetch her… or so she assumed. But she was quite happy where she was; not only had her body become absolutely, truly perfect, but she also had a mortal (debately) wrapped around her finger, enough that she didn’t quite want to leave. Why would she when, of her free volition and without hoodwinking anyone, she had found literal heaven on Earth?

“B-boss wanted to know what y-hnnf!”

The imp’s words were muffled almost as soon as they dared leave his mouth, with Terza unceremoniously dropping her bust onto him. There were probably broken bones, most certainly a bruise or two, but she didn’t care; it was important her workplace know just how little she wanted to return to it, since at least that way they’d find someone to replace her properly. For now, she had her place to live, she had plans for the future and, above all, she had someone to exploit and drink from until the cows came home.

Speaking of which, the familiar sound of sloshing began to echo from outside. It was amazing how loud the vixen had become after her milkers began to graze against the floor; poor thing was producing so much cream that she had to stop every other flight of stairs just to drain herself, and her workplace had more or less ceased buying milk altogether, instead opting to hook two pumps to her head-sized teats and let them work their magic for a whole work shift. Still didn’t do anything to her size… or productivity either.

The imp vanished from beneath her, leaving Terza alone to savor her incoming meal.

Bigger.