Metaverse Fantasy Maidservice Editor (Various P5 Kawakami TFs)

Makoto stared at her phone for a long while before finally tapping in the number Mishima had given her. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing. It felt… weird. Wrong, even. But the mess in the Niijima apartment had grown unbearable, and no matter how many times she promised herself she would tidy up, her mind was always too occupied with Phantom Thief business… or worse, with her sister.

The line clicked, and a warm, cheery voice answered. “Thank you for calling. How may we help you tonight?”

Makoto sat a little straighter, as if her posture mattered over the phone. “Ah—yes. My name is Niijima. I live with my older sister, and… well… we both work late. Our home has gotten rather disorganized, and I was hoping to book someone to help clean.”

“Of course, Miss Niijima! You’re in luck. One of our very best, Becky, happens to have an opening tonight. Shall I schedule her for you?”

Makoto hesitated only a second before nodding at her empty living room. “Yes, that would be fine.”

“Wonderful. One last thing. If you’d like to save on repeat bookings, we’ve recently launched our very own Maid Service app! Download it now for exclusive goodies, discounts, even customization perks for your maid experience. I highly recommend it!”

Makoto blinked at her phone, a little baffled. “…Customization?”

The operator laughed lightly. “You’ll see once you try it. Thank you for your call, and Becky will be on her way shortly. Please look forward to it.”

The line went dead, leaving Makoto alone with the silence of the apartment. She placed her phone down with a sigh.

Had she really just… hired a maid?

It felt surreal, almost like she’d stepped into one of Mishima’s more ridiculous rumors. He hadn’t even put up much of a fight when she confronted him. He pretty much just turned pale and handed over the number as if he feared she’d haul him to the student council office otherwise.

Makoto rubbed her forehead. Was she really that intimidating? She’d always thought of herself as fair, if strict. Maybe too strict.

Her thoughts drifted to her sister. Sae’s obsession with the Phantom Thieves… With her case… It was consuming her. To see the woman who had raised her, who had once been her role model, warping herself in the pursuit of a career ladder… It was heartbreaking.

Now Makoto had to prepare herself for the inevitable confrontation. The casino loomed large in her mind, its flashing lights and velvet shadows waiting to swallow them all whole. The pressure was crushing.

No wonder she hadn’t been in the headspace to clean.

The sudden ring of the doorbell jolted her back to reality. Her heart skipped a beat.

Becky had arrived.

The door swung open.

Makoto froze.
“…”

The woman in the doorway froze too, her feather duster in hand.
“…”

Makoto’s lips moved before she could stop herself.
“…Professor Kawakami?”

Kawakami’s eyes widened in horror, the color draining from her face. She pressed a hand to her temple.

“I can’t believe this. Seriously? You are the second student from my school to call this service. What are the flipping odds!?”

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint hum of traffic outside. Makoto felt her cheeks burn.

“I—I can explain,” she began quickly, clasping her hands in front of her. “It isn’t what it looks like. My sister and I… we’re both overworked. Between school, her job, and… other responsibilities, neither of us has been able to keep the apartment in order. I just… I’m not in the right mindset to clean. I only wanted some help, that’s all.”

Kawakami looked at her for a long moment, suspicion and exhaustion in her eyes. Then, slowly, her shoulders dropped. She let out a small sigh and tugged at the frilly apron of her maid uniform.

“…Fine. You booked me for cleaning, so I might as well do my job.” Her lips curved into a smile, but Makoto couldn’t tell if it was genuine or something practiced.

Makoto nodded faintly, relief mixing with a lingering sense of embarrassment. As Kawakami stepped inside and began assessing the living room, muttering about piles of papers here, dust on the shelves there. Makoto sank back onto the couch, reaching absently for her phone.

Her gaze flicked down at the screen. The maid service icon pulsed faintly, overlapping in color with the familiar, unsettling red of her Metaverse app.

Her brow furrowed. “…What?”

The two icons shimmered against each other until the maid service logo warped, stretched, and then snapped into something entirely different. Curious, Makoto tapped it.

A new title spread across the screen in sleek, bold letters:

Metaverse Fantasy Maidservice Editor

Makoto’s breath caught in her throat.
“…What… is this?”

Shock mingled with a creeping, dangerous curiosity.

Opening the app was like stepping into a game. A polished character creation screen filled the display, framed in gold filigree, as if she’d just booted up some flashy fantasy MMO. At the top, bold letters shimmered:

“Order any fantasy maid you wish!”

Makoto blinked. The “default model” was unmistakable… It was Kawakami, rendered in smooth 3D, wearing her frilly maid uniform. The figure shifted in idle animations, dusting an invisible shelf, bowing politely, stretching her arms.

Makoto’s pulse quickened. What the hell is this…?

She scrolled through the menus, curiosity outweighing caution. Body sliders. Eye shape. Hairstyle. Species. And then she stopped at one of the longest sliders she’d ever seen:

Bust Size.

From flat all the way to Z-cup.

Her jaw dropped. “…That’s not even humanly possible.”

Before she knew what she was doing, she nudged the slider to the far right. On screen, Kawakami’s model strained against her blouse, breasts ballooning outward until they dwarfed her torso, bouncing in impossible arcs. Makoto flushed and yanked it back down to something more reasonable, her heart hammering.

“This is absolutely catered to a male audience…” she muttered, but her thumb kept swiping through options… Tails, wings, ears, muscle tone, personalities. She lost track of how much time she spent fiddling before returning to the main screen.

Now, a single button dominated the bottom.

Order Up!

She hesitated… Then pressed it.

A pop-up window materialized, almost teasing her:

“Do you want to order up a happy-to-serve, energetic bunny girl with a G-cup and a bouncing bubble butt?”

Makoto’s face burned. That was easily the most perverted question anyone had ever asked her, period. And yet… her finger hovered. Just once. Just to see what would happen.

“…Okay.”

The moment she pressed it, a ripple of red light burst from her phone, like a silent shockwave. It spread through the room, and as Kawakami walked toward her with a feather duster in hand, it hit her squarely in the chest.

Kawakami didn’t even flinch, but the effects were immediate.

Her stride faltered, then shifted into a light, springy skip, each step oddly buoyant. Her calves firmed and lengthened, thighs plumping with muscle and fat. Makoto’s eyes widened as Kawakami’s hips began to swell, her rear surging outward until her skirt strained, fabric hugging curves that grew rounder, fuller… Her butt practically doubled in size, each step making it bounce with exaggerated jiggles.

The maid uniform shimmered, threads twisting and tightening until it resembled a hybrid between a frilly apron and a glossy black bunny suit. The skirt split at the sides, high-cut leotard fabric hugging every curve, a fluffy tail sprouting above the hem.

Then her chest lurched forward. Makoto heard seams pop as Kawakami’s breasts surged, expanding in great, soft waves of flesh. They ballooned far past her normal size, stopping only when her neckline was scandalously stretched, cleavage spilling like it was alive.

She could only stare, stunned, as Kawakami’s face brightened. Her tired smile melted away, replaced with a wide, glittering grin of sheer excitement. A pair of long, velvety ears pushed their way out from the top of her head, twitching with restless energy.

When she spoke, her voice was pitched higher, brimming with cheer. “I have assessed the situation, pyon!” she announced, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her breasts and rear jiggling in rhythm. “I think little ol’ me should be done in, oh, two to three hours, pyon! Hope that’s acceptable for you, Mistress pyon~!”

Makoto felt her face go crimson. “…Ah… yeah… obviously. Ahaha…”

Beaming, Kawakami skipped off, humming as she began dusting the shelves, every motion exaggeratedly bouncy, ears flicking with joy.

Makoto slumped against the couch cushion, staring at her phone in disbelief.

“…Did that really just happen?” Makoto whispered, watching her normally weary teacher—now a bouncing, perky bunny girl, dusting the shelves with ears twitching and a grin that belonged to a completely different person.

She rubbed her temple. This can’t be real. There’s no way this thing just does that.

Her phone was already in her hand again, thumb scrolling before she’d even fully decided what she wanted. The menus glimmered with endless possibilities, each more absurd than the last. Curiosity gnawed at her. It was reckless, it was wrong, but… she pressed Order Up again.

Another wave rippled from her screen, invisible but undeniable. It struck Kawakami mid-hop.

The long rabbit ears atop her head quivered, then began shrinking rapidly, sliding back down the sides of her skull. In their place, her human ears stretched upward, lengthening to sharp, tapered points, skin darkening into a dusky shade.

Her chest heaved once, then compressed inward, soft curves reducing until they were still generous, very round and heavy, but merely the size of her head, not the impossible spheres from moments before. Makoto barely had time to catch her breath before her eyes dipped lower. Kawakami’s hips widened again, rear swelling even larger, each bounce swelling into a hypnotic, jiggling weight that threatened to swallow her tiny black skirt whole.

Then the outfit dissolved in a shimmer. The frills melted into glossy shadow, reforming into a skintight black bodysuit that clung to every contour of her body. It hugged the thick mass of her thighs, lifted the obscene curve of her buttocks, and traced every line of her torso until her cleavage looked sculpted from temptation itself.

Her skin took on a violet hue, smooth and flawless. From her lower back, a long, sinuous tail uncoiled, swaying behind her with a spade-shaped tip that twitched playfully. And with a sudden snap, two enormous wings burst from her back, black membranes stretching wide before folding neatly behind her.

Makoto’s mouth went dry.

The change in Kawakami’s demeanor was even more shocking. She no longer skipped or bounced. Every step now was deliberate, a slow, rolling strut that made her thighs flex and her hips sway in a rhythm designed to entice. She leaned when she didn’t need to, bent just a little too far forward, posed in ways that oozed effortless allure. Even wiping dust from a shelf looked obscene.

Then she turned her head, lips curling into a sultry smirk. With a playful flick of her tail, she raised two fingers to her mouth and blew Makoto a kiss.

Makoto’s heart lurched, heat rising to her cheeks. She knows. She has to know.

Her chest tightened as the kiss lingered in the air, as if it really had struck her. Makoto had never considered herself attracted to women before, but the way Kawakami’s eyes half-lidded and her every motion radiated sinful invitation… She wasn’t sure how long her resolve could hold out.

Maybe turning her into a succubus was a mistake. 

But if it was, it was one Makoto couldn’t bring herself to regret.

She licked her lips nervously, fingers trembling over her phone. 

Okay… no, no, I can’t just leave it like this.

She typed, slid a few bars up and down, and finally pressed the dreaded (magical) Order Up button again.

The wave hit Kawakami like before.

The first change was in her shoulders. They broadened with a subtle crack, posture straightening until she stood tall and commanding. Her heavy bust shrank rapidly, deflating to flat firmness as her chest redefined itself into a masculine torso. Her hips and thighs narrowed, trimming away that sinful succubus curve until her frame was leaner, angular, undeniably masculine.

Her purple tint faded back to a warm human tone, while her pointed ears softened, slipping back into ordinary shape. The leathery wings folded in and evaporated into mist, leaving only the faint scent of brimstone behind.

Meanwhile, the skintight bodysuit shimmered and unraveled, melting into neat folds of crisp fabric. Black tailored trousers hugged straightened legs. A buttoned vest and a pressed white shirt layered beneath a formal, long-tailed coat. A tie fastened itself at her collar, and polished shoes clicked faintly against the floor.

Her arms thickened, sleeves tightening over newfound muscle. Her face sharpened, the roundness of feminine softness melting into clean, refined lines. Her jaw squared, her nose grew straighter, and her eyes took on a piercing confidence. In the span of seconds, Kawakami’s succubus allure transformed into the devastating charm of a gentleman prince.

Makoto’s jaw went slack. Oh my god… she’s—he’s—

No. There was no denying it. Kawakami had become one heck of a handsome man.

“Milady.” The voice was rich, low, velvety, and it pierced Makoto’s thoughts like a blade.

“Ah! Y-Yes? W-What’s up?” She sat ramrod straight, hands clasped on her knees as though she was back in the student council office.

The tall butler bowed slightly, one hand to his chest. “You look somewhat pale, milady. If you so desire, I could brew you a cup of calming tea. I am more than confident that my skills will impress you.”

Makoto opened her mouth, but words failed her. She could only nod, cheeks warming.

“Very good.” Butler Kawakami bowed deeper this time, then strode gracefully into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, Makoto found herself sipping a cup of tea so fragrant and expertly brewed it might have come from a five-star hotel. Across the room, Kawakami continued cleaning in dignified silence, adjusting bookshelves with precision and wiping counters with practiced poise.

Makoto clutched the porcelain cup, her mind spinning. What is happening to me? Do I… like girls? Do I like boys? What even… counts anymore?

It was as if the app was deliberately toying with her, reshaping Kawakami into every possible ideal of attraction just to watch her squirm.

And yet, her finger hovered over the screen again.

She couldn’t stop.

She had to try more.

Her thumbs flew across the screen, adjusting sliders with reckless abandon. Height. Muscle tone. Bust. Strength. She knew she was going ridiculous… Cartoonishly ridiculous… But her curiosity had completely bulldozed over her inhibitions.

One deep breath. Then she pressed Order Up.

The air rippled.

Kawakami stiffened, and then her body expanded.

First came her height… her legs lengthened, torso stretching taller and taller until she loomed over the coffee table. Her chest surged outward again, breasts swelling into ripe, round curves that filled out the top of her uniform. Her hips flared, her rear ballooning into an impossible shelf of soft muscle and fat.

But this time, it wasn’t just curves.

Her shoulders broadened, arms bulging with new mass. With every passing second, muscles swelled larger, her sleeves splitting at the seams. The refined butler’s suit strained, then tore, as her stomach hardened into the fiercest six-pack Makoto had ever seen.

“...oh my god,” Makoto whispered, as Kawakami kept growing.

Her face softened back into her usual feminine features, yet framed now by sheer bulk. Her biceps expanded until they were as thick as Makoto’s entire head. Her thighs flared into powerful trunks that could crush steel. Still she grew, until she stood nearly one and a half times Makoto’s height, the ceiling light casting her shadow across the room.

When the transformation settled, Kawakami was clad once more in a maid uniform, but not the prim, frilly kind. No, this one looked tailor-made to showcase her gargantuan build: Sleeveless, cropped at the midriff to reveal sculpted abs, tight enough to outline the bulge of her muscles yet still just barely modest enough to count as “uniform.”

Makoto swallowed hard. She looks like she could wrestle a train… and win.

Then the giantess maid casually bent down, hooked a single hand beneath the couch, and lifted it clean off the floor as if it weighed nothing.

Makoto nearly choked on her own breath. “Wh-What are you doing—?!”

Kawakami glanced beneath the furniture, then gently plucked up a tiny object with surprising delicacy between two fingers. She turned, massive arms flexing as she presented it to Makoto: A humble little USB stick.

“Mistress?” she asked in the softest, sweetest tone imaginable. “There was a flash drive underneath your couch. Where shall I place it?”

Makoto gulped, staring at the absurd contrast between the delicate stick and the colossal hand that held it. “…Err… that one probably belongs to my sister. So… uhm… just put it on her worktable.”

“Understood.” Kawakami gave a serene smile, crouched, and lowered the couch back down with the utmost care, like she was tucking a child into bed.

Makoto slumped back against the cushions, dazed.

That app is… incredible.

—

It was deep into the evening now. The glow of the city outside had dimmed into a scattered sea of neon, and the apartment smelled faintly of polish and tea. Against all odds, and despite, or maybe even because of all of the transformations, Becky had managed to clean the place up to a significant degree.

Kawakami stood in the entryway again, back in her usual tired self, the frills of her maid outfit slightly rumpled. She gave a small bow, looking faintly embarrassed. “I apologize again that you had to… See me like this. I just hope I was able to help at least a little.”

Makoto smiled politely, hands folded in front of her. “No, you really did. You actually helped a ton. Thank you very much.”

Kawakami shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking away. “I understand if you don’t want to order me again, though.”

“N-No, that’s not it at all,” Makoto blurted quickly. She straightened her posture, trying to sound composed. “Actually, I think we could have a pretty solid arrangement together. We’re not exactly lacking for money, but right now… Keeping up with cleaning has been impossible. Doesn’t that make us the perfect clients for you?”

Kawakami paused, considering that. Then she chuckled softly. “…I guess so. Yeah. Sure. That would help us both.”

“Then we have a deal!” Makoto declared, offering her hand.

The teacher hesitated, then smiled faintly and shook it. “It’s also nice getting calls from someone trustworthy like you. Much better than random creeps who want to do weird things to maids, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely…” Makoto agreed quickly. But her laugh came out strained. “Ahahaha…”

She turned her face away before Kawakami could see the heat rising to her cheeks. Because the truth was, her intentions weren’t nearly as pure as Kawakami believed.

As she closed the door behind her teacher, Makoto’s eyes drifted back to her phone. The app’s icon pulsed faintly, as if winking at her.

And Makoto was already wondering…

What should she turn Kawakami into the next time she came over?

—

Would you believe me that the weird part of this tale happens AFTER Makoto hires one of her Teachers as a maid? Pollstory for August