Puella Monstrum Madoka Moecha – Chapter – 10 – Mami Tomoe’s Very Special Day – Part 2

Kyouko - Being a Good Senpai Is Hard

This was not how I expected to spend my evening.

“And then… Then I keep using this stupid voice, and singing lines from the kinds of songs nobody knows I like, and everything goes downhill from there—”

Really, this was supposed to be my free day. I’ve fucked enough phantoms over the past few days that my magic is completely filled up. I don’t have anything to do. I could just relax and lie back on my hoard—my perfectly normal apartment without any sense of urgency.

“I… I don’t even know anymore. Did Kyousuke really like me, or was he just… He listened to me sing for a long time, and I…”

So, it wasn’t like I had been preparing for today or anything. Not really. I was just… I thought it would be nice. It would be nice to take Mami out, like we used to do, and get some cake that she hasn’t tried yet. Pay for it. Maybe take a walk.

“My… My first time. And I don’t even know if he wanted me. It could… It could all have been the damn magic, and I don’t know, because I left him dehydrated, and I’m just too ashamed to even go back to the hospital, and…”

Take a walk with Mami, and don’t talk about magic, or phantoms, or anything other than me missing her so damn much and why was she so stupid when—damn it.

I just fucked her the other day. I’ve fucked her again and again. I have shoved my cock in all of her available orifices, showered her with my cum, marked every crevice of her body as mine, and she still…

One night. One night cuddling with her on top of a deserted rooftop, and I’m mushy and giddy all over again, like the years haven’t gone by and I’m still looking up at the blonde girl who danced as she fought.

“But… I could live with that, you know? If it was just me messing things up with Kyousuke? That’s… I… I could give him up. I already thought Hitomi would take him, and I wasn’t going to fight her. Not her. Never her.”

…

Damn it.

I throw back my bottle of cola, drinking every last gulp of the fizzy thing with my head hanging over the backrest of the park’s bench as Sayaka, for once, shuts her mouth.

Seriously, the girl’s been rambling non-stop since we sat down. Hasn’t even touched her grape soda.

“I—” And she just ruined it.

“Shut up,” I say, wiping my chin with my sleeve before remembering this was supposed to be my nice jacket, and then I angrily throw the empty bottle at a trash bin slightly farther away than a regular human could aim at. Score. Obviously. “Look, Sayaka? Not your fault. Get it through that stubborn head of yours that this isn’t your fault. Don’t even think about anything else until you’re clear on that.”

The blue-haired girl looks at me in a weird way that Mami would understand because she’s so damn good with people except when she isn’t, because she has this glaring blind spot that makes it so she doesn’t even realize just how much she messed up when she refused to tell me—damn it. I’m getting carried away.

“I did those things. They are my fault,” she finally says, almost defiantly.

Fuck.

“OK, let’s say… A drunk driver kills someone. Is that his fault?”

“Of course it is—!”

“And what if he didn’t get drunk?” I cut her off as she starts to rise from her seat beside me.

“What—”

“He’s drunk, but it’s not his fault. Someone spiked his drink, and he didn’t realize it, and now he’s hurtling down the street, barely able to process the other cars on the road, speeding up, trying to get back any sense of control. Is it his fault? Do you blame him, Sayaka?”

She looks at me, her arm still holding her up against the top of the bench’s backrest with effortless ease she wouldn’t have felt mere days ago.

She’s not dumb. Not really. Brash? Yeah, I can see that (for obvious reasons), but she understands what’s going on.

Even if she feels guilty about it. Even if she wantsto feel guilty about it as she desperately tries not to think about a young girl being wracked by urges she wasn’t ready for, and—damn it, Mami.

“It’s… not the same,” she weakly protests.

“No,” I agree. “It isn’t. Because that alcohol? That’s now part of you. You’ll always feel it, burning just below your navel, making things that much sharper, making you yearn, and if you let it, it will grow hotter and hotter until it blazes—or, well, maybe that’s just me. Maybe you’ll drown instead. I don’t know, rookie.”

She blinks at me.

“You’re terrible at comforting people,” she says, half-smiling.

“Maybe I am. Dunno, I’ve never tried before.” I shrug.

“You’re a bit of a jerk, aren’t you?” she says, finallygetting the clue.

And I…

I lean back on the bench, my head once more over the backrest, looking at a mostly clear sky that’s going somewhat pink to my right and slightly darker to my left.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” I tell her.

And she, by my side, rests back to look at the same sky.

***

Mami – Cramming School Was Never Meant to Be Literal

I’ve got tests coming up.

Important tests. Life-defining tests. The kind of tests I can’t overprepare for.

Which is why I’m attending cram school despite my full schedule of being both a high school student and a professional monster hunter, my supernatural degree of grace and fitness, somehow, not making the wooden, fold-down seat any more bearable nor the notebook in front of me any less abstruse.

It is also why I’m currently trying not to visibly react to the lecturer calmly and dispassionately explaining how to multiply matrices while a version of me wearing an almost exploding middle school swimsuit keeps trying to fellate him.

Don’t take it personally, Mami. People can’t help who they focus on, Mami. It’s just a passing fancy, and the next time you see him, the phantom will probably have vanished.

Also, don’t think of precisely what that means, Mami. Because phantoms can vanish when the desire that birthed them has been satisfied, yes, but when it comes to me wearing that kind of outfit and doing that kind of thing, I bet that satiation involves plenty of hand lotion, and—gaaaahhhhh!

I despise this! I loathe seeing myself everywhere, doing those things with everyone! I abhor knowing just how many times my schoolmates fantasize about me, how many times the phantoms change from one day to the next, how many times they, instead, grow, and it vexes me that I’m focusing on this meaningless, ever-present thing I shouldn’t even be aware of when there’s complicated math to study, and what is even an identity matrix and why should I care—

“Relax,” Mei mutters, laying a gentle hand on my bouncing left knee.

“Sorry,” I whisper back with what I hope is a chagrined yet composed smile.

It makes her roll her eyes, so I may have missed the mark.

“Come on. Just focus on this a bit more, and then we’ll go out,” she says.

I look at her with surprise at the matter-of-fact statement regarding something I hadn’t been aware of so far, but, before I can argue, she goes back to studiously taking her own notes about what the man whose name I refuse to learn while he keeps showing up to class with different versions of me clinging to him is explaining.

I should also take notes.

I mean, who could resist the lure of the mystery that is an identity matrix, after all?

So I hold back a sigh and pick up my pen, managing not to crush it when swimsuit-Mami’s breasts burst out of their far too tight confines, and she envelops the pants-clad leg she’s hugging with them, and—

I don’t have time. I literally don’t have time. I have to patrol, keep an eye out for Kyouko doing her thing, try to come up with the best way to gently guide Madoka and Sayaka before they make their wish, and study the kind of math that stopped making sense more than a year ago. I have to do all of this and prepare for my college entrance exams, which are so much more stressful than my high school ones that it’s not even funny.

I don’t have time.

But I take a brief side-look at Mei, wearing a black uniform with a white trim highlighting the cut of her lapels, the short-haired brunette shooting me a kind smile with her blue eyes glinting beneath the sharp bangs of her bob before refocusing on the lecture and I…

It’s been a long day.

A really long day in a series of long weeks, and…

Would it be so bad to take a bit of a break?

***

“Karaoke,” I say with as much of a deadpan as I can manage without being outright rude.

“It’s a classic, come on,” she says, taking the sleeve of my own jacket and pulling me along as she, disregarding the poise a Sobu High student is expected to display at all times, all but skips over the sidewalk and toward the garishly illuminated place that—

“Mei… You never said we wouldn’t be alone,” I tell her, maybe pouring a bit of magic in my legs to plant my feet and make her stop mid-jump.

Blinking in surprise, she looks back at me, and then with the kind of tone one uses to explain something blindingly obvious (such as to never trust Kyuubey to be around when I need her), my cram school partner says:

“Of course not. You wouldn’t have come otherwise.”

Looking across the street busy with evening traffic at the awkwardly smiling three boys that I only know in passing from too many shared classes at our cram school, all of them trying to stand taller as they notice Mei and me approaching the karaoke’s entrance while their respective versions of Mami Tomoe do very un-Mami-Tomoe things, I can’t help but agree.

“One may say that’s precisely why you should’ve mentioned it,” I try to argue with fraying patience.

“One may say that if you don’t let your hair go once in a while, you will snap,” she shoots back, yet again rolling her eyes at me.

“Don’t you dare touch the hair!”

“It’s… an expression? I wasn’t going to—”

“Do you have the slightest idea of how much work these ringlets take? And how I need to keep washing it after the hair gets gunked up with—”

I shut up.

Right before saying ‘distressing amounts of semen.’

The unsaid words account for my nascent blush and, I suppose, for some of Mei’s eyebrow-raised confusion.

“Sorry, Mei… It’s… It’s been a long day,” I tell her, resting the tips of my fingers on my forehead more as an excuse not to meet her eyes than anything else.

“Are you… being bullied, Mami?” she asks, fully turned toward me, her profile sharply delineated by the yellow light of the streetlamp to my right.

Which prompts me to look at her in confusion right as she lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

She’s being a bit touchy-feely today.

“What… What makes you think that?” I ask in genuine curiosity before my brain catches up with my mouth, and I reflect that I’ve been more or less constantly sexually harassed in one way or another since I became a magical girl.

Darn it.

“The hair thing? Is somebody messing with—”

“Oh! No, no, no, it’s… it’s nothing, really; you don’t have to worry.” Mostly because if I told her that spectral beings only I and a select few can see keep drenching me with sperm that only fades away after their defeat (which excludes when they escape and I am forced to sneak into my home to take a long, shameful shower), or that my former apprentice does the same to me pretty regularly without having the courtesy of her conjured fluidsalso being ephemeral enough not to risk my reputation… Well, if I told her all of this and she believed me? Mei would have far greater concerns than the state of my hair.

Such as wondering just how many of our acquaintances have some kind of specter hanging over them, constantly draining their life energy.

That, or worrying about her sanity after being so ready to believe something so farfetched, but, well, there’s a reason why I’ve never told anyone other than magical girl candidates about this side of me.

There’s also another reason as to why I haven’t told said candidates about certain parts of this hidden, secret life. A perfectly valid reason, no matter how much Kyouko protests otherwise.

“That’s… Not reassuring at all,” she says as she keeps searching my eyes through my whole inner diatribe.

How inelegant of me.

All right, Mami, you can still salvage this. Just straighten your back—and how hunched over was I that—never mind. Straighten up, regain the slight height advantage you have over your classmate, gently take her hand away from your shoulder, and show her the radiant smile of someone who may or not have some troubling concerns, but that is perfectly capable of handling them on her own.

… Then try to ignore Mei’s brief, barely concealed grimace. I may need to take a break more than I thought.

“I appreciate your concern, Mei, but this is nothing I don’t know how to deal with—”

“That doesn’t mean you have to deal with it by yourself,” she says, brusquely cutting me off and clasping my arm in a way that makes me nervously check whether or not she has a phantom version of me hanging around.

Yes, she’s a girl. No, that doesn’t seem to matter at all.

“Mei…” I trail off, looking into genuinely caring blue eyes that—

“Hi! Is everything all right?” a blonde boy from the awaiting trio who has ventured toward us says, his smile almost a grimace as he waves a greeting at me from behind Mei.

And a nurse Mami licks a thermometer from behind him.

… Darn it.

“Hi! Yes, everything’s fine, Daisuke. Mami just took a bit of extra convincing when she saw the karaoke; you know how studious she is,” Mei half-turns toward him and flawlessly lies in a way that both impresses and alarms me.

“Ah, yeah, I’m sure you had to pull all the stops to get her to take a break,” Daisuke says, nervously rubbing the back of his head before letting out what I’m sure he thinks is a genial laugh.

And, before I can deny or confirm any of her claims, Mei’s hand, still clutching my biceps, tightens around me and drags me to, allegedly, loosen up and have ‘fun.’

I’ll believe it when I see it.

***

“Master! Master! Master of puppets!” I yell into the microphone, my head bobbing hard enough to make my ringlets bounce. “I’m pulling your striiiiiiings!”

…

I may be having fun.

Part of it is the sheer glee Mei is displaying at the barely held horror on our three escorts’ faces, but I admit having a chance to unwind and just cry out my constant frustration without having to let the bull out is… nice.

So I sway to the music on the slightly raised platform with two microphone stands, my back turned against the giant flat screen displaying the lyrics behind me as I try to lose myself in this song Mei selected for me without realizing, I hope, that I already knew the lyrics by heart.

Because, well, strings.

I sing, almost roaring, or as close as I can get without the bull taking over, to Mei’s clapping delight and Daisuke and his friends’ wide-eyed shock as I try very hard not to blush while facing the two sofas running parallel to the walls of this surprisingly large karaoke box, the robotized lights dotting everything with swirling, neon colors that reflect off the polished tiles and the thick glass table between the black sofas, that refract through our ordered drinks and make Mei’s smile shift in too many ways for me to keep track of while I pretend to lose myself to the music and ignore the four sets of eyes on me.

And so, I do.

I sing, almost roar, all but scream, and let out frustration that’s been increasing for months, if not years.

And I…

Well, I have to give it to Mei: I am having fun.

My throat is kind of sore, though.

Ah, well, nothing a bit of magic won’t regenerate without me having to dip into my reserves too… much…

No. No, please, no.

Damn it!

I throw the microphone to Mei’s side, hard enough that it gets embedded between the two black leather cushions, the girl letting out a yelp as the boys jump to their feet in alarm.

And I don’t pay an ounce of attention to them as I clasp my soul gem over the hollow of my throat with both hands and pour my power out as fast as I can.

My school uniform turns into fading gauze as moonlight blooms in my breast, expanding and enveloping me as the faraway sound of a breeze flitting over grass shadowed by olive trees replaces the wails of Metallica’s melody.

My feet leave the ground, the last traces of my mundane clothing carried away by the Mediterranean breeze before my own strings dance over my skin, turning into ribbons, the ribbons into canary and white cloth that tightens around me into my gloves, my beret, my stockings…

My magical girl uniform.

The one thing I never thought I’d show to Mei.

But, in front of me, not even fitting inside of our karaoke box, there’s the biggest phantom I’ve seen in my life, a twisted slug-like monstrosity made of many mouths, each one with a different tongue waging at the air or propelling it along the ground, its thick saliva glistening beneath multicolored lights, each wailing opening echoing with a discordant note that only becomes a song when joined with the others.

And I…

Mami, the graceful fighter and heroine, will not be enough. Not for this.

So I let the bull out.

My muscles ripple with unseen energy that always feels like glowing, crimson waves, my clothing tears apart and explodes into dissolving motes of moonlight, and my breasts bounce as they grow heavier and rounder, free of any restraint before the thrice-damned cow-print bikini top hugs them into place, the flesh undulating and overflowing over, around, and below the tight bands of leather as I suppress a muffled gasp when my loincloth hugs me too tightly.

And… And my horns grow in place, slightly shifting my tilted beret up with the rustling of my ringlets coiling around them as my tail snaps to the side with suppressed rage that I manage to stifle into the mere annoyance a gadfly would merit.

Then my feet lower to the grey, glimmering tiled floor. Except they’re no longer feet: they are hoofs. Hoofs that mark where black and white fur that still feels surprisingly soft grows up my thick legs until it ends around the middle of my thighs as if stockings made to compliment my top.

And I…

My nostrils flare, taking in the scent of everything that’s happened in this enclosed place since they last cleansed it with industrial chemicals. Everything that lingers—the tobacco, the alcohol, the sex—assaulting me at once, my eyes twitching at the red tongues wagging in my direction as I try to focus past the open-mouthed astonishment of my cram school companions, my mind swirling with all the ways this could go wrong, and the mess I’ll have to deal with if I manage to, somehow, make it go right.

And then, for a brief moment, Mei’s choice of songs with which to scandalize our male companions shines through the cloud of doubt and indecision, and I fail to suppress a twitched smile when I remember her dancing with knee-swaying glee to something that, just in this one moment, feels far more appropriate than Metallica’s returning melody.

…

“Stop. Hammer time,” I mouth without saying it as my weapon coalesces in my hands.

And then, as I bend my legs to leap forward and raise my two-handed hammer to strike at the monster, it lurches forward, set on interrupting me before I have a chance to react, but it’s all right, because I can take it. I can take anything. I’ve fought with a dragon. I’ve been taken by a dragon! Let’s see you try and top that—

Oh.

Right.

Before my horrified eyes, the phantom’s mouths come apart and disperse as if a cloud of flies swirling all over the room. And I’m fast enough to leap ahead and strike at them, the wet splattering of flesh and blood against metal still making me suppress a heartfelt wince even after all these years.

I kill a lot of them, each swipe of my weapon going across the thickest stream of swarming monsters I can visualize in three brief moments of focus, of slowed time.

My body blurs as I kill dozens.

But, the others?

I wasn’t the target.

So, to my horror, the air clears entirely as the mouths go to and into Nurse Mami, Pornstar Schoolgirl Mami, and Police Mami, who all touch their respective originators at once, the three young boys straightening up with a jolt as the phantoms step inside them and their bodies grow into well-muscled men who…

Uh.

It… It’s bizarre to see that, for once, it’s not me ripping clothes apart.

I mean, alarming? Definitely. But… there’s some horrified fascination in the process, in seeing their bulging chests pop off the buttons of their shirts and the jackets’ sleeves come apart at the broadening shoulders and the pants…

Oh. My.

They… they may be bigger than Kyouko.

…

I don’t know whether to tell her. It may be the thing that gets her overinflated ego to get slightly in check. Or, and this is definitely something terrible that I don’t wish to ever happen, it may get her competitive.

…

With her tail.

…

All right, Mami, focus! You’re an experienced heroine, the most knowledgeable magical girl in Mitakihara, and even if this is your first time dealing with possessed civilians, you most certainly have the necessary tools to learn how to deal with the situation at hand in an appropriate way.

‘Kyuubey!’ I broadcast my telepathy as strongly as I can, frantically reaching for said tools.

‘Yes, Mami Tomoe? I do hope this is important—”

‘Possessed civilians! What do I do?!’

The former boys take a lumbering step toward me, still being caged between the glass table and their sofa, and Mei is huddled in the far corner of her own, on the opposite wall of theirs. I guess their phantoms are keeping them focused on me.

Good.

I clench the thick wood of my hammer’s handle and get into what I learned a long time ago is called a fool’s guard, the head of my weapon almost touching the floor, silver reflected over grey as I invite them to strike at me—

‘Kill them. Fast.’

‘What—’

‘Mami Tomoe! This is no time for your heroics! A phantom that can possess multiple people at once? You haven’t faced that before; you shouldn’t be facing one at all, not alone—I’m sending reinforcements; hold as long as you can.’

Something feels wrong. Kyuubey doesn’t overreact to anything—she barely reacts at all—but, no matter how unnerved she sounds, I can’t—I won’taccept this.

‘I’m not going to kill my classmates!’

‘Wait, your classmates?’

My eyebrow rises at Kyuubey’s suddenly relieved tone, but Daisuke, only recognizable by the mop of blonde hair that is now rising in short, shaggy spikes, tries to interrupt with a hand that reaches over my guard, and I slap it up and away with the side of my hammer’s head, the blow hard enough to make him stagger away and crash against his companions before they all fall on top of their sofa as an erratically twitching pile.

The phantoms still can’t control their bodies. Not well enough to fight.

I have time.

I can save them.

‘Yes! This big phantom just touched their own phantoms and melded with them, and now—’

‘Oh. That’s a relief. Then you just have to fuck them.’

I blink at three very naked, very muscled, very erectmen writhing on top of one another.

And I, in a way completely unbefitting of a heated battle, blush.

‘Excuse me?!’

Needing to do something, anything but contemplating Kyuubey’s proposal, I jump over the pile of boys, twisting in mid-air to land in front of the door to the box, guarding it so nobody else will get caught up in this whole mess, and—

‘If they are your classmates, I assume the phantoms that have been used as a bridge into their consciousness are linked to a sexualized version of you as is often the case with—’

‘Not everybody I know has a slutty Mami hanging off them!’

‘Lies do not become you, Mami Tomoe.’

Yet again feeling the inappropriate burning in my cheeks, I shoot a brief look at Mei huddled in the corner of her sofa, hugging her knees and not looking at any of us. I want to grab her and throw her out the door, but one of the black-haired piles of muscles, the shorter one who has grown broader more than anything else, manages to writhe from beneath his partner, blinks his eyes, and clenches his hands open and closed, the movements gaining fluidity with each repetition as he stands up.

I am running out of time.

‘There has to be another way; I can’t just—’

‘Stop making problems for yourself by refusing to have sex. If you want to save the hostages… that is the safest method. Satisfy their desires, Mami Tomoe.’

I involuntarily look down at the throbbing, purple erection swaying with every lumbering step toward me, biting my lip as I remember the phantom I… The phantom I defeated during lunch break. The one I couldn’t fight, so I had to let it take me until it faded away.

My thighs quiver and I tell myself it’s because of the strain of keeping my low fool’s guard.

And I want to yell back at Kyuubey, a thousand old arguments already about to be repeated as uncertainty, fear, and something else turn into the anger that always feels so comfortable when I am the bull.

I could scream at her. Insult her. Throw everything that has gone wrong between Kyouko and I back at her always stoic face.

But… if she’s right…

‘Mami Tomoe… Please…’

Her whispered, pleading, mental voice reaches me.

And… It should be words, only words. Information. Statements of fact. It should lack any intonation, the sardonic wit implied rather than apparent. It should be the same frustrating, infuriating experience as it always is speaking to her in person, face to hieratical face.

But… There’s such anguish…

‘Kyuubey, you…’

‘I just sent reinforcements. They are on their way, Mami Tomoe. They… They will get there. I promise they will get there. So. Please. Please be well.’

‘Kyuubey, I can just hold them off and—’

‘No! No, please, don’t—not you too. Not you as well, Mami. Don’t… Don’t leave…’

For the first time in my life, somebody weeps into my mind.

And I…

It could be a trick. It should be a trick.

But I think about the silver-haired girl with red eyes and animal ears sitting on the ledge of a skyscraper, looking over a glimmering city spreading below her as she held her right knee against her chest and told me of the unseen monsters that preyed on humanity and what I could now do to fight them.

I think about my most bitter, oldest friendship.

‘Thank you,’ I think at her, setting aside everything but the warmth in my breast at Kyuubey… opening up.

Unfortunately, the stocky, broad-shouldered man isn’t considerate enough to let me have this moment, and he makes to grab my wrist right as I almost strike up at him out of sheer reflex even as I step back, my back feeling the metallic paint of the box’s door against my bare skin as he draws nearer, my eyes briefly darting to Mei’s still unresponsive frame, and…

And Kyuubey has sent reinforcements, so… So I just have to buy time without harming innocent bystanders, and there’s a purple shaft quivering in hardness, pointed straight at me, about to drop a fattened drop of thick precum on a no longer spotless floor, and…

And…

And I remember a Mami Tomoe not-quite-dressed in a bright blue cheerleader’s uniform spreading my legs open and enthusiastically shoving her thick cock inside of me just mere hours ago, and would it be so different to just—

Damn it.

Swallowing both the knot in my throat and my pride, I…

I lower my top, my breasts quivering in freedom, only supported from below by taut leather digging into me as I force a smile that I hope is more convincing than the one I showed Mei half an hour ago.

And then…

“No need to get rough… I’m not going anywhere…” I tell him, taking a step toward him as I lick my lips and get on my knees, swaying my hips with a cadence that makes my tail wave behind me as my loincloth pools between my open thighs.

His blank eyes widen, devoid of both pupil and iris, and I can see a flash of Pornstar Schoolgirl Mami inside his bulk, the eager submission in her eyes mirroring what my pose conveys, and…

Well, even I can get such a hint.

So I lean forward against him, my bare breasts pressing against his right leg much like Swimsuit Mami did with my cram school teacher earlier in the evening, my nipples shamefully hard despite the circumstances, dragging on his smooth skin right before his arms twitch forward and his hands go straight for my horns, grasping them tightly enough that I feel the thrill of sensation going straight through my head and down my spine to the very tip of my quivering tail like every time Kyoko has done precisely this very same thing, holding them to guide me up and to the oozing slit of her cock so I can nuzzle her with my cheek and lick at the drops of precum she offers me before—

“Hmmmph!”

Bastard!

You’re supposed to start slow! Let me—let me get used to it! Not try to make me choke with something longer than my forearm!

I glare up at him, the head of his cock past my lips and knocking insistently against the entrance to my throat, but then I see Schoolgirl Mami waver inside him, her eyes glazing over and away from mine as I deviate from his fantasy of a submissive, cock hungry little slut that—damn it!

I… I lid my eyes, my tongue slowly licking from side to side beneath his cock, the very tip hardened and pointed as I tease at his frenulum and I make demure eye contact while drops of magic-infused, thick precum glide down my tongue, sparking with heat-inducing flavor before they drop down my throat to stoke a fire that’s never entirely cold when I let the bull out and is now rising up from below my navel to make my head swim with the kind of thoughts I never allow Mami to have. I can feel his phantom surge closer to the surface as I act precisely like he wanted me to, like he fantasized I would each and every time he was alone in his room and rubbed his shaft up and down while thinking about bending me over, flipping my skirt up, and taking me like Kyouko—

Again. I’ve done it again.

I have a pulsing, beating cock in my mouth, and I… I keep thinking about Kyouko doing those things to me, those sinfully delightful things I never wanted her to discover. I keep thinking about a wind-swept rooftop and a body curled around mine, and it would be bad enough if it was just the sex I think about. It would be bad enough for me to think about my apprentice doing everything to me I always taught her not to, but… But I think about open eyes for once softened, free of anger and resentment, and I can help but wish it was her here, that it was Kyouko’s member I was lovingly suckling on, making her moan like this man above me, making her hold onto my horns tremble with more strength than this man can gather.

I keep thinking about things I shouldn’t.

So I don’t. I let the fire pass through and around my thoughts, let the scent of raw cock flood my flaring nostrils, let the bull free so it can desire, so it can feel delightfully shameful heat between my thighs as my loincloth gets soaked with my arousal, my hunger for this thing inside of me that could be doing so many things as the strong hands on my horns mauled my breasts, held on my hips, spread my ass open…

I think about this man taking me so I don’t have to think about Kyouko owning me.

And the mere avoidance of that thought? It makes me moan around a thick cock as I undo my loincloth and spread my pussy lips open with two fingers, my eyes daring him to do anything other than fuck my throat, and—

And there’s another cock poking at my cheek.

I look at the taller, black-haired boy, at the flash of Police Mami inside of him, and I can’t help but grab his intruding member like she’s handling her nightstick, firmly, my thumb drawing teasing circles beneath the crown of his head as their two scents, so similar yet so deeply nuanced, so utterly masculine, make the fire burn higher, make my eyes lid without me forcing them to.

And then, between the two hulking bodies, I catch sight of a blond one.

Staring.

On the other side of the glass table.

Beside Mei.

I push the boy in front of me hard enough he flies over the empty sofa, the sudden absence of his cock in my mouth helping to clear my sluggish thoughts as I pull the shaft in my hand forward, making the taller boy stumble past me and crash against the metallic door as I lunge to my feet and across the table, gliding over shockingly cold glass on my breasts and belly with the shrieking noise of sweat-dewed skin that makes me aware of the drumming music still playing over the speakers as I reach Mei, who’s… Who’s…

Touching herself.

And looking at me.

…

I shouldn’t be surprised.

My hands are on the edge of the sofa, my body suspended between the cold glass on my bare pussy and the black leather on my palms, my breasts dangling beneath me as if I was expecting somebody to sit by my side and milkthem, but I still try to look into my friend’s blue eyes, to reach her, and…

“Mei, it’s dangerous in here; I can cover for you if—”

Her eyes are glazed over.

And… And beneath the black skirt of the prestigious Sobu High, where her hands are shoved… there’s a cock.

Because of course there’s a cock.

“Mami… You’re so beautiful… You’re always so beautiful…” she mumbles.

Her changes are more limited, her white blouse straining rather than tearing at her enhanced bust, and—

Wait.

Daisuke, to Mei’s left, is also jerking himself off while looking at me, the silhouette of Nurse Mami plain to see inside his frame as she cups her cheek in a way that looks more maternal than anything, but I don’t see Mei’s phantom, because she wasn’t supposed to have one, so why—

Fairy Mami.

Fairy Mami, with glittering, apple green wings that sparkle as she beats them in a way that melds with the shifting, colored LED lights of this box, dressed in a dark leaf green little outfit that all but screams ‘Tinkerbell’ at me, her dainty, pointed shoes just adding to the mischievous effect of the Robin Hood cap she wears lopsidedly.

She’s cute. She’s cute to the point where a younger Mami would’ve squealed her lungs out at seeing her.

She’s also straddling Mei’s cock and swinging her hips back and forth on top of it, leaving a glistening trail over the pulsing shaft that sparkles in neon colors.

Damn it.

“Mami,” Mei says, begs, “I… I was so confused. I felt things, but didn’t know what they were, not until now. Not until I saw you on your knees, sucking cock like you were born to, like you are the most beautiful whore in the whole world.”

Her left hand, coated with both the juices of fairy Mami and her own, new ones, reaches down to stroke my cheek, smearing me with something that tingles in precisely the very same way I expected it to.

Because of magic. Because of magic and desire, both of which I know too well, and now the spell on my skin reaches to the fire within me, and it…

It fuels it, yes. My inner fire roars, my thoughts struggling to remain as anything but white ash, but…

But that’s only because I’m burning it.

So I am horny. I am about to lose my mind as my body screams at me to take any of the four available shafts and shove them anywhere I can. Because I want to guzzle white, thick sperm, but I also want it polling in my belly, white streams constantly replacing everything they shoot inside of me as I moan with my eyes rolled back, as I let them play with me until they are spent and can’t shoot anything but pitiful dribbles that I will gobble up, instilling new vigor in them with my tongue, and my tits, and my milk.

I am almost delirious.

But I am me.

The bull.

“Mami, will you—” Mei starts to say.

And then she shrieks as I grab her cock and pull her forward, her hands flying to her sides so she can help herself move forward as Fairy Mami’s eyes fly open, and she leaps into my study mate’s womb, the little, delightfully naughty thing staring at me with wide eyes as I dive forward and gobble her cock right down to the root, yet again grateful for Kyouko’s extreme training and the way her cock always stretches my throat wider as she wiggles it past my tits.

Speaking of…

I look at Daisuke, pitifully holding a cock that shouldn’t be wasted on open air, but there are four people here, and I need to prioritize, so…

Nurse Mami.

Maternal Nurse Mami.

I feel my lips stretch into a wide grin around Mei’s shaft, getting caught right below the ridge of her head as she hisses and pulls at my ringlets, and then I look straight into the blank eyes of Daisuke.

My right arm wraps around Mei’s waist, dragging her forward until soft pubes that do not belong on top of a cock tickle the tip of my nose, and then I look back at Daisuke and, with my free hand, point at my dangling tits.

And Daisuke, with his fetish for something that the usual Mami would nervously blabber about, slides beneath me and latches onto my left nipple, his tongue swirling around it just like I do around Mei’s cockhead when I pull back just enough for me to be able to do so.

Then the first drop of my milk comes out, and my head goes blank.

Because, usually? Usually, I’ll wait until I am no longer able to, sit on the edge of my bathtub, and squeeze my breasts and pull at my nipples until the pressure within bursts forth, and I fill bottle after bottle of thick, creamy milk that never spoils as waves of overwhelming sensation crash across my entire body.

I usually manage only half a bottle before I start masturbating, shoving three fingers inside of me as I cry out things I never want to remember.

So I milk myself and come, again and again. Sometimes I even let out my cock and jerk it to the same rhythm I use on my engorged, reddened nipple, the bathtub filling with another kind of milk.

I once thought to mix them up. To fill half a bottle with my breasts and the other with my cock. To stir it up. To hold Kyouko down and shove the opening of the bottle past her lips, forcing her to swallow until her breasts swell up, almost rivaling mine before I grab each of the quivering mountains of flesh and fuck past them with my cock, right into her still thirsty, pleading mouth.

After I finished cumming? I was ashamed. I flagellated myself, swearing to never come up with anything that twisted ever again.

Now?

Now I am drenched.

I am sucking on Mei’s cock hard enough that her precum has become a constant yet thin stream, the shining liquid stretching between her tip and my tongue when I pull back to offer her a hungry, lidded look that makes her shiver as Daisuke remains below me, between her open legs, suckling on me and making me feel as good as my hands on my cock did while dreaming of a milk-drunk, delirious Kyouko begging me to fuck her, to bend her over and pound her tiny ass, to watch as her toned flesh quivered and her squeals were drowned by the slapping of our thighs and the wet sounds of her pussy being stirred up by me.

I’ll hate myself after this.

Right now?

I don’t care.

I don’t care because the fire of the bull is burning hotter and hotter, and my reason is always the first thing that it burns when the flames reach this high. I don’t care because Mei’s pull on my hair is yet again offering me delicious cock over my tongue, past the ring of my throat Kyouko likes to stretch so much. I don’t care because Daisuke’s lips are a tight seal around my nipple that isn’t letting a single drop of my milk go anywhere but inside his mouth.

But, mostly?

I don’t care because somebody I can’t see just grabbed my hips and lifted me over the glass table, and there’s something hard, and wet, and scorching hot prodding at my eager, slutty hole.

I don’t care because I’m about to get fucked.

My eyes flutter when he comes in, when he spreads my opening until I suddenly contract when the thick head is past, but he doesn’t stop there. He keeps pushing, forcing me to take him, to take all of him.

And there’s so much to take.

I whine around Mei’s cock, my breasts shaking over Daisuke, and my eyelids flutter as the display of colored lights and reflections blurs when my eyes roll back so far that I lose sight of the world, and I can only feel the two cocks inside of me and the lips on my tits.

And then somebody takes my hand and puts it on another cock.

I squeeze hard enough that a regular man would’ve wilted out of any arousal, but the unseen man to my left, the tall man who must be straddling Daisuke to get at me, groans in something I know far too well is pure pleasure.

Police Mami. Police Mami stroking her nightstick, the dominant vibes so thick as to make the current me shiver.

He craves this.

So I give it to him.

I jerk him off, roughly and quickly, fast enough that anybody else would’ve complained, winced, begged me to stop.

He jerks his hips forward, trying to fuck my fingers, and I stop moving at once until he gets the message and quiets down like a good little boy who’s about to get rewarded for being so obedient.

But I can only imagine it, because my face’s smushed up against Mei’s soft belly as my body is limply suspended from that other man’s hold on my hips, his inhumanly long cock shoved so far deep inside me it could support me on its own, and…

And he moves.

I scream against Mei, her hands going from my ringlets to my scalp, around my horns, her fingers digging into my skin in clenching convulsions as my rippling throat brings her to the very edge of an ecstasy she’s about to experience for the very first time.

But not before me.

So I pull back, only my lips making contact with her pulsing tip as she looks at me tearfully, her hands pulling me down with futile strength as I all but strangle the cock in my left hand, causing the man to let out a groan s loud it echoes through the microphone still embedded in this very sofa.

And I…

I abandon all thoughts as the cock in my pussy pulls back and slams into me hard enough that my eyes roll back into welcoming darkness.

He’s… He’s deep. He’s reaching everything of me at once, and when he does it again? When he fucks me hard enough that both Mei and I quiver with the impact?

I moan.

Like a whore. Like Mei’s beautiful whore that she desperately wants to see sucking cock, any cock, but preferably hers.

I moan again when he slowly pulls back, my insides pulling at him desperately, begging him to stay, to keep me filled, to keep my thoughts away after he shoves them apart with something that feels like it reaches past my head, through the burning fire roaring inside of me, filling me with another noise, with the slapping of meat, of bodies, not persons.

I manage to get my eyesight back, and I see Mei naked, sweating, and blushing.

Holding a microphone in front of me.

“Tell me. Tell me how it feels to be the perfect slut,” she says with fever in her eyes and voice.

The foam-covered head of the microphone is above her tip, smeared with her dribbling precum, and the scent is harsh enough that the aroma of new plastic fades away so I can only sense her, so that only Mei’s newly virile aroma fills the bull’s flared nostrils.

Daisuke, below me, swallows an entire mouthful of milk, and I shudder around the cock in my pussy as I clench the one in my grasp.

So I look back. Back into glazed, blue eyes that never looked at me unkindly and are now eager to listen to me debase myself.

“I love it,” I say, Mami’s purring voice echoing all around the dimly lit box through the speakers in the corners as the karaoke machine futilely insists on me singing to something with too much drumming for what I’m saying as I peer up into Mei’s eager smile. “I love it so much it scares me. I love it so much I can’t allow myself to feel it, not when I could so easily lose myself. I love to get fucked, and I love to fuck, and I shouldn’t, and that only makes it better.”

Tomorrow, Mami will remember this. Will think about this whole thing without the fire, and the fog, and the cock in her pussy.

Tomorrow, Mami will hate herself.

Today… Today I’m going to cum my brains out until there’s not a single cock standing.

Mei looks down at me with a smile that feels like a revelation, and I reward her by licking up from her balls until her very tip, nuzzling the microphone away with my nose before swallowing her up yet again, my tongue managing a single circle around her cock’s head before the man fucking me shoves himself as deep as he can go once again, sparks of sheer pleasure accompanying both his thrust and the rhythmic milking of Daisuke’s mouth.

In my left hand, the other cock tries to protest my neglect, and I clench a tight ring around his base, stopping him from moving as I shudder down Mei’s cock while the cock behind me starts getting into something steady, the sloshing sounds of both my sex and his accompanying the intense drumming and replacing it inside my mind.

And then there’s nothing else.

Nothing but cock on my lips, lips on my tits, dick in my hand, and my pussy being emptied and filled until it feels like that’s what I am: something that’s just enough to fit a wonderful shaft inside of me and that has nothing remaining when it’s gone.

Then the cock speeds up, and there’s something new.

Because I’m about to cum.

It rises on the back of my head, looming above me, about to crash as I try to mewl around Mei’s cock as she uses my horns as leverage to pull her hips up, to fuck my mouth and slap her balls against my chin.

It darkens everything in its shadow as more milk than ever flows out of me in a sudden burst that gets Daisuke to manically suck on me, my entire areola stretched past his lips.

It’s about to fall as the other cock finally rebels and frantically fucks my fingers as strong hands hold my wrist in place.

And then the man behind me sinks his fingers on the rippling flesh of my ass, my tail futilely trying to wrap around his waist before he grabs the base and pulls, and he thrusts the wonderful cock one last time deep inside my thoughts, yet again shoving aside all that he doesn’t shatter before he roars.

The first jet makes me scream around Mei’s cock.

The second, the scalding burst of seed spurting out from between my lower lips and his cock, makes me frantically jerk the cock in my hand until he shudders to his knees.

The third has both my breasts spurt thick milk, one of them inciting Daisuke’s hungry licking, the other futilely discharging on tiled floor.

And then I lose count as I dive back down Mei’s cock and suck on it until she’s also cumming straight down my throat, twin streams of heat filling me as the wave crashes and my whole body seizes up, the sofa’s leather tearing when I claw at it as I keep cumming over and over again, barely noticing when the cock in my hand spurts its own load at me, coating my back and my hair.

I drop down on the glass table, my body limp, the bridge I maintain between it and the sofa only held by Mei’s still hard cock in my throat.

And then the man lies on top of me and, without even asking, shoves his entire cock up my ass.

***

I don’t know how long it’s been.

I just know some cleaning staff is about to have a very bad day.

Mei no longer has a cock and is sleeping in front of me as I’m railed on all fours, my knees on the cold tiles as I almost enviously look at her peaceful, restful face.

Police Mami is no more, apparently satisfied enough with my brand of ‘discipline’ that she faded away before anybody else.

Daisuke is… I think he’s asleep. He’s no longer latched onto any of my raw nipples, at the very least, and he’s also no longer a disturbingly large pile of muscles.

But… But I’m still being fucked.

Because, apparently, Schoolgirl Mami has some endurance.

I’ve lost count of how many times he’s come inside of me, of the ways he’s degraded me, how he’s spanked my ass, forced my throat open, plastered my face with cum.

I…

The fire’s still there, but…

But I think I’m no longer the bull.

And I…

I’m kind of tired? Not to mention exhausted, so it still feels good, far better than it should, but my magic is completely filled up, and the monster is entirely satisfied, so I don’t have that excuse. I’m just Mami Tomoe, being railed in a karaoke box while surrounded by puddles of cum and three people she’s already fucked into a coma.

It’s… It’s not quite what I envisioned when Kyuubey recruited me to save the world.

“Ah!” I shamefully let out when he spanks me yet again before grabbing the base of my tail as he steadily speeds up in the way that signals he’s about to shoot yet another load inside of me.

And, by now, I just want it to end.

So… What would satisfy schoolgirl Mami? What kind of humiliation haven’t I undergone yet that—

Oh.

Oh, I, that’s…

He spanks me yet again, my pussy reflexively tightening around him, and I briefly contemplate the pros and cons of trying this latest scheme before reluctantly deciding to at least try despite the burning shame.

“Oh, yes!” I moan, entirely fake. “Yes, shoot it inside of me! Flood my womb! Make me pregnant! Is that what you want? To see me walk with my school uniform stretched out by my swollen belly? To make me drop out to raise your child?” My cheeks are burning with what I’m pretty sure is only sheer mortification, but he’s speeding up, so… It may be working? Come on, Mami, one last push! “Do you want to know you ruined me with your cock? Do it! Fucking do it! Get me pregnant, you bastard!”

I stop talking, not just because of sheer embarrassment, but because the frantic pace of his hips kind of makes it hard to draw enough breath for monologues.

And then, with a last slap on my jiggling butt, he pulls yet again on my tail and shoots burning sperm up my pussy, making another crashing orgasm wash through me until I momentarily forget about anything but the searing cock branding me with pleasure.

He stops, my head hanging between my arms as I draw in a desperate gasp, and then he…

He falls back, finally going soft as he slides out of me for the last time in his life.

Then, as swiftly as my wobbling knees allow me to, I get on my feet and summon my hammer to me, turning around just in time to see Schoolgirl Mami burst open into a flock of flying mouths that has been steadily diminished with every defeat.

And I smash them.

An overhead strike takes care of most of the remaining ones, and the ones that fly around seem to be uncoordinated, as if they have lost more of their awareness with every splattered member, so I drop my hammer and just…

I just punch them, all right?

And, if every strike against one of the damn things is accompanied by a cry of sheer rage and frustration? Well, that’s why karaoke boxes are soundproofed. It’s so that heroines that have been forced to undergo a gangbang can let out their rage in a healthy, productive manner.

So, with a last hit that kills the only remaining mouth (and has my right arm go straight through the more sperm-damaged sofa), I drop to my knees as the swirling magic around me coalesces into the biggest phantom shard I’ve seen in my life, the glimmering pink crystal half as tall as my torso.

…

With this, I should be able to replenish my magic for quite a while without having to resort to… extreme measures.

And I…

I really don’t want anything extreme in quite a while.

***

It takes me quite a while to clean up my four cram school partners, having to revert to my regular magical girl self and experimenting with my threads in ways I rarely have before.

Mostly? I make a lot of towels.

Fixing their uniforms is almost a lost cause, but I somehow manage to turn them into something passable.

The sofas…

I just leave a pile of money on the glass desk, have the four sleeping teens huddle on the most intact of the two pieces of furniture, try to wake them up one last time, and guiltily leave.

This would be the time when I angrily wonder where Kyuubey’s vaunted reinforcements are, but as I step out of the karaoke box into a street that is far less busy than when I came in, I see two young girls on the other side of the street.

Two magical girls.

One redhead, one bluette.

I… stop and blink at them.

“Sayaka?” I ask as I cross the street toward them. “You… You shouldn’t have made a wish! Not yet! I still had a lot to explain to—”

“Oh, you definitely have a lot to explain. Yes. Definitely…Explain,” she says, her tone slightly slurred and—

“Wait, are you drunk?!”

“I was trying to prove a point,” Kyouko grumbles, my former apprentice leaning on my newer one as she digs the tip of her red boot against the sidewalk.

“A point?! What kind of point are you—”

“That the rookie is a lightweight,” she says with a careless shrug that almost dislodges her from Sayaka’s side as the redhead slowly falls back.

Not even thinking about it, I rush forward and grab her waist to steady her, the cloud of alcohol hitting me at the same time as her eyes fly wide open, and she stares up at me as I hold her in what may pass as a dip, our faces far too close as the yellow streetlight makes her eyes seem to glow in quivering highlights as her lips open just enough to show the white edge of teeth that have nibbled on my body too many times.

And remembering precisely what the bull has been thinking about Kyouko for the past few hours, I can’t help but feel a burning tingle on my cheeks that quickly spreads down my neck.

In Kyouko’s case? I don’t know what is it that she thinks about that makes her blush about as hard as I do, but I—

“Heeey,” Sayaka slurs, “I thought we were, you know… Gonna fight her? You two look like you’re about to do it like they do on the Discovery Channel.”

I feel a tingle of magic before something entirely different tingles, and Kyouko’s eyes go wide with horror.

“Damn it, Rookie,” she whispers.

And then she shoves her right thigh between mine, makes my eyes go cross-eyed, and straightens up to spin me around and shove me against the wall that’s suddenly behind me as she dives down to bite on the side of my neck and make me moan.

I try to understand what the Hell is going on, but the only thing I can see is Sayaka sighing in resignation as a pillar of water washes over her, and…

And…

And I just wanted to go home, have a nice, long bath, and forget about getting gangbanged without my two apprentices tag-teaming me on the way! Is that too much to ask?!

‘It seems to be so, Mami Tomoe.’

‘You! You sent them here to—’

‘To help you. They said you had it under control,’ she remarks with sheer dispassion.

‘That was not at all what I would have said—’

‘You have always been too modest.’

‘And you are a spiteful bitch!’ I tell her, feeling a bit too honest as Kyouko’s tongue licks up the hollow on the side of my neck before nibbling on my earlobe and making my toes curl.

‘Maybe. The canine traits are undeniable.’

‘You aren’t even going to deny the “spiteful” part?!’

There’s a pause on Kyuubey’s side of the conversation that forces me to focus on Kyouko’s hands running up my sides as the bare brick behind me digs past my school uniform, the sharp lines feeling as if they’re being engraved on my back as Kyouko’s fingers reach my scalp and dig past the tightly bound hair that I just got back in place.

I… I can’t even think of protesting. Not when it’s Kyouko doing it to me.

And I…

‘I am spiteful, Mami Tomoe. I have always been. And, if somebody ever harms you? This city will learn of it,’ Kyuubey says.

And, before I can think to reply, she abruptly cuts off the connection between us, leaving me alone with a suddenly incensed Kyouko and a Sayaka that glares at the two of us, and—

Why is there a wall of water rushing down the street?!