Puella Monstrum Madoka Moecha – Chapter – 9 – Teenage Territorial Futa Lesbians

Sayaka – Thieving Cats Should Watch Their Hands

OK, calm down, Sayaka. All of this has a perfectly reasonable explanation. There’s no need to make a scene. Madoka, Hitomi, the new girl, and you are just gonna have a nice, peaceful talk while eating lunch in the sacrosanct privacy of the school’s rooftop. Everything can be peacefully resolved.

As soon as the damn intruder stops holding Madoka’s hand!

That bitch!

“Sayaka? You’re turning blueish.”

“Stop being such a racist, Hitomi,” I tell the currently sputtering girl out of the corner of my mouth.

“Sayaka! Be nice!” Madoka says, looking affronted on behalf of the girl who should have gotten used to swallowing without any issue a few hours ago, given how much I stretched out her throat with… Uh… I mean…

Poor Hitomi. I’m so worried about her. Wracked with concern.

Yup. That’s me: caring, sisterly Sayaka who definitely isn’t getting used to calling one of her oldest friends ‘the little cocksucker’ in the privacy of her own mind. Does that sound like something a paladin would do? No? Then I’m not doing that.

Paladin, ergo, no slut-shaming.

… And now I’m calling her a slut. Great.

“Get a hold of yourself, Miki,” the intruder tells me with a disturbing familiarity that makes me bristle with—

“And now you have ear fins. Great. Just great,” Hitomi comments from where she’s sitting on the ground, slumping against the dandelion planters at the edge of the rooftop, voice still rough, and knees not up to carrying her without me lending her my shoulder.

… Aaaaaand now I feel guilty.

That does sound paladin-like, doesn’t it? What with the Catholic guilt and all that…

I’m not getting into mortification of the flesh, though. I’m not that kinky.

Hitomi, completely unprompted, seems to be glaring at me. I couldn’t fathom why.

“OK. OK, I’ll try to be civil just so long as you manage to convince me you aren’t doing something to Madoka’s mind,” I very reasonably tell the long-haired girl in front of me, whose eyes suddenly widen before narrowing in open hostility that—

“And gills. You would think there’s nothing sexual that can be done with gills, wouldn’t you?” Hitomi mutters, making me look to my left at the disgruntled girl.

…

“Do you… Want to talk?” I tell her.

“Talk? About what? About me still not feeling my legs? About you seeming to think confronting Madoka’s newest friend is more important than that? Why would I want to talk about that, Sayaka?”

“Uh—”

“That was a rhetorical question,” she says with a gaze sharp enough that my sword may feel inadequate. And, I mean, it takes quite a bit to make anything phallic of mine feel inadequate—aaaaaaaahhhhh! What the Hell am I thinking! I’m not proud of my dick! It’s a dick! It doesn’t belong anywhere on my body, much less on my ego!

“Sayaka? Homura and I can leave if—” Madoka says.

“No. Way,” I answer with my own sharp gaze that, going by how Madoka suddenly hides behind the smug bitch may have taken some lessons from Hitomi’s.

“It’s so nice to feel appreciated,” Hitomi comments. “You know, valued, my feelings taken into consideration—”

“I do love you and your feelings; I’m just trying to check whether Madoka has been ensorcelled by a foul witch!” There, that was all paladin-y. It should balance out the whole slut-shaming thing.

Also, Hitomi’s blushing.

“You… love me?”

…

Oh. Fuck.

Madoka, stop grinning. New girl, stop hiding a smirk behind your hand like an otome villainess.

“I mean… Well, I… We’ve always been… friends?”

Madoka, stop facepalming. New girl, stop gleefully staring down your nose at me like an otome villainess.

“Oh…” Hitomi, stop making me feel like a heel!

“I mean! Best friends! The best of friends! I wouldn’t risk my relationship with you for the world!” I try to—

Why is Madoka glaring at me? And why is the new girl doing the same?

“You… wouldn’t risk… You fucked Kyousuke! And then me! And—oh, yelling at you hurts…”

“Hitomi?” Madoka asks with the kind of worry that usually involves Tatsuya and culinary implements. “Are you… Do you need to cry—”

“My throat hurts, Madoka, not my—and why aren’t you surprised by…” she gestures at my ears like I’m some kind of weird monster Madoka should be panicked at.

Rude.

Also, kind of accurate.

“I… Already knew?” she says from behind the smug new girl, who keeps shooting that irksome little smirk at me whenever I glare at her in perfectly justified disapproval.

“What? But… Sayaka just transformed last night for the first time?” Hitomi prods.

And Madoka blushes in a hue that’s quite similar to her hair.

… I wonder how my blue blushes compared to my own hair. And whether I’m doing it right now.

“She… did? Yes?” Madoka answers.

“So… if Sayaka transformed last night, then went straight to Kyousuke, then met me… Oh. Oh, no…” Hitomi says, looking greenish enough that maybe I should ask Kyuubey some pointed questions.

“I… I was worried! You and Sayaka were arguing and then suddenly went to the restroom, and I had to check that you were OK!”

Slowly, three sets of eyes turn around to wholly focus on a blushing pinkette.

Who blushes harder.

“Madoka…” I ask with all the calm of a composed paladin and not, you know, trying not to visibly shake in sheer dread. “Did you… Did you follow Hitomi and me—”

“She did. She followed us, and then she heard your stupid magic voice, and she kept touching herself while listening to the two of us, and that’s… that’s all your fault, Sayaka!” Hitomi says, glaring at me before twisting her mouth and rubbing her throat.

Then she glares harder.

“Huh… I could… heal you?” I say, completely ignoring everything else (particularly the blushing, stammering, pink-haired girl), because I have only so many ‘aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhs’ left in me, and I’ve got the feeling I should save some of them for when I ask Mami some calm yet thorough questions about her teaching methodology (or lack thereof).

Hitomi’s eyes narrow.

And I…

I clasp my soul gem with my left hand, letting my magic wash out of it, spiral around me in azure torrents twinning above and below me, my uniform getting carried away somewhere else before my magical garment takes its place, the sword on my hip reassuring in its weight.

But that’s not enough. Because I can feel the healing, in this shape. I can feel it washing away all the fatigue I still felt from last night and this morning, filling me with new strength, but that’s not the healing Hitomi needs.

And so I pull the waters tighter against me, my blue skin deepening, coated in something that glides through the currents as my gills open to breathe them in, my nails lengthening into claws, iridescent scales adorning my jaws and cheekbones, membranes sliding between my fingers as I swim up, and up, turning amid the pillar of my magic, letting my clothes be torn apart and replaced by pearls and colorful coral beads that barely cover my breasts and hips, my sarong fluttering in currents gentler than those surrounding me.

And then… then my lyre appears, and it warbles inside the water, filling it with notes impossible outside of it, carrying magic from the depths as I find my fingers stroking it more tenderly than I thought to caress Kyousuke.

All of this I have felt, but now I open my eyes to see, and the light of the sun is a curtain of shimmering gold dancing across my water, scattering into motes as I lower myself to the tiled roof and my bare feet alight on porcelain, white and blue checkered tiles slick and glistening with the remnants of my power.

Through it all, I see Hitomi’s green eyes looking at me, and I…

I sing.

I sing a wordless melody of currents between ancient rocks, my water going away so that my voice is carried through the air, and her cheeks fill with color as she smiles in precisely the same way she did while I was inside of her, moving slowly, exchanging kisses, caresses…

And I…

Uh…

Madoka’s clapping.

Of course she is.

“Well, at least now I can yell at you without it hurting me more than you…” Hitomi says, experimentally rubbing her throat.

“Isn’t that supposed to be how the saying goes?” I ask, scratching the back of my head with my left hand, the right cradling my lyre against my pearl-covered chest.

“No,” she states in a… very definitive way.

“A mermaid. Of course you and your obsession with music would end up with a mermaid theme. It was that or a harpy,” the new girl says, an eye-roll implied in the flat tone.

“Excuse me?” I tell her, not at all wanting to be excused.

“I don’t think I will, no,” she says, apparently following my wishes, yet managing to piss me off all the same with both her raised eyebrow and the weird way she cocks her head to the side and back.

“Homura, be nice…” Madoka pleads, grabbing her left sleeve from behind, and making the other girl’s eyes flash with a burst of… guilt?What the Hell?

“Madoka…” she says, turning toward her, the name almost a breath on her lips, a smattering of pink on her cheeks, and—aaaaaaahhhhhhh!

No! I refuse! I refuse that this girl who just came out of nowhere can look at my Madoka like that and make her smile that way. This isn’t happening, and if it’s happening, it’s gonna stop right the fuck now.

“Now you listen here—” I very reasonably state as I take three quick steps and grab her shoulder to force her to look right at me.

“No, thank you. I always thought you had terrible taste in music,” she says, slapping my hand away.

… She did not just—

“Homura!” Madoka says, stepping around the other girl to be by her side rather than behind her.

“You don’t fucking know me! You… Homura, or however you’re called—”

“Of course I know you. Do you have any idea just how many times I tried to save your reckless, martyrdom-prone self? But no, you just had to become a magical girl, refuse to listen, and charge head-on into danger. And now I get here, to the land of magical, futa monstergirls, and you’re still pulling the same—the same… the same shit!”

“I! Don’t! Know you! You have never ‘tried to save me’ in my life!”

“She… kinda did? Quite often?” a tiny, inconsequential voice says as I glare at the girl whose eyes just became slit with twin black slashes crossing lavender.

Kinda disturbing, truth be told.

“No, I tried a lot. I tried a whole damn lot. But I never managed it because you, suicidal lemming that you are, always had to reach for some kind of grand gesture when everybody around you could tell just how inconceivably moronic that was—”

“I’ve never seen you in my life. You just waltzed in here, used your mind magic to convince Madoka she knows you, and now you’re trying to do the same to me—”

“I don’t have mind magic! I have time magic; you’re the one who brainwashed Hitomi of all people into taking a taste of ‘forbidden love.’”

“She kind of has you there, Sayaka,” my second oldest friend and second lover interjects, stabbing me from behind like I always knew she someday would.

“Don’t you take her side! Can’t you see how she’s got Madoka wrapped around her—”

“I have not wrapped around Madoka,” Homura almostyells, punctuating it with her finger poking right above my pearl bikini top. “And not for lack of—damn it!”

“Homura… Scales?” Madoka warns her.

Kinda… too late.

Because where my scales glitter with all the colors of every fish in the ocean, Homura’s are pitch-black, only reflecting the sun to accent their own shadows as they race up her arms and legs, tearing up her pantyhose as she snarls at me, her fangs lengthening in a way that makes my teeth sharpen, and then she grasps her own soul gem and her clothes blur as her legs… her legs flow, something in their motion calling to my waters, as if trying to rip them off me.

Like Hell she will.

I raise them. In streams, droplets, and globs, my water orbits my body and resists her call as her legs lengthen, slimming down before expanding, the tail of a massive snake spiraling over the roof as raven wings sprout from the bare back of her thin, black dress and shower us with whispy midnight feathers that seem to drink in the very light I reflect.

I glare at slitted pupils over dripping fangs, showing her my own teeth.

She hisses.

“Oh, you wanna fight, punk?” I say. And then, gathering my magic for a first strike, I add, “Let’s get it on.”

Except…

Except it comes out as music, and I feel my cheeks tingle beneath my scales as Madoka blushes far deeper than a moment ago, and the new girl’s pupils round in a shock that takes away almost all the color surrounding them.

And, to my left, still sitting on the roof’s floor but now burying her face in her palms, Hitomi moans.

“Not again,” she says, right before throwing an accusing glare at me through her fingers.

…

Uh… I mean…

I look down at my sarong steadily rising with something that hadn’t been there a moment ago, and then at the almost twin (that may be slightly longer, but is definitely thinner, so, there) sprouting from between the legs of the girl in front of me and going past the tattered edge of the skirt that’s so short in the front it may as well not be there.

And…

Well…

Uh…

Oopsie?

***

Madoka – Being a Good Friend Is Hard Work

Homura came back. Came back for me. Crossed time again and again just to save me until she found the one time when it worked.

And so we should have met and had a tearful hug, relaxing in knowing that this time around things will be different, that she doesn’t have to fight like that anymore. That she doesn’t have to stand alone at the end.

That she can heal. Have friends.

… It may not have been my best idea to start that plan off with Sayaka.

Hitomi seems to agree with me, given the look of sheer, blushing exasperation she’s shooting at our common friend as I look between blue eyes and lavender ones, fidgeting as they glare at one another, both of them baring their teeth and claws, and… and…

And thingies!

Fine! They aren’t thingies! They are cocks! Long cocks! Thick cocks! Smelly cocks, except not in a bad way—darn it!

“Will you two stop already!” I yell, hoping that they—

Huh.

They are… staring at me?

“Madoka…” Homura says in that breathy voice that does weird things to my stomach, and I lick my lips before Sayaka’s glare catches my eye, and she—

“Mine,” she growls, picking me up like I don’t weigh anything.

“Like Hell she is,” Homura says, her body blurring before I’m suddenly wrapped in coils far softer than I thought they would be, but Sayaka is still holding me, pressing my back against her soft breasts (unfair), and her thingie between my cheeks, so when Homura tightens, Sayaka groans¸and I shiver as ‘Let’s get it on,’ keeps running through my head, and—

Oh.

Hitomi is… staring.

And blushing.

And nervously gliding her fingers along the inside of her thigh, pushing her skirt up just a tiny bit before her wide eyes meet mine, and she freezes.

… Darn it, Sayaka.

“Get your hands off her,” Homura says with a tone that could have seemed calm if she hadn’t ended the line with a loud hiss.

“My hands? Is that what you should be worried about?” Sayaka answers with precisely that tone that brings to mind that smug smile she usually wears before doing something really, really dumb.

And then she pushes me with her hips and… and somethinghard and long slides between my cheeks, pushing up my skirt, making me bite my lip as my nipples harden against my bra—

Suddenly, I’m no longer tied against Sayaka.

Sayaka, though, is being throttled by Homura.

“I should murder you right now and get it over with,” she growls almost calmly, lifting Sayaka to her eye level, which is quite a bit higher than it was before adding a lot of snake to her height.

“It will be hard to do if I choke you with my cock,” Sayaka answers, thrusting her hips forward and… Uh. That was just… pressing against me.

“How—why are you breathing?!”

“Gills, you moron. Which is why I wouldn’t choke on your cock. Even if it was thick enough.”

“My cock is perfectly serviceable!” Homura protests. And… well…

It really… looks like it is.

I mean, I’m no expert, but it looks thicker than some toys I’ve seen, and it has those pulsing veins along it that make my cheeks burn a bit harder, and my nipples rub more against my bra, and it has a thick, transparent drop of something about to fall off its tip that makes my mouth water even as it glitters in the noon’s sun, and…

…

I want to die! My wholesome reunion with my best friend who gave up everything to save my soul is turning into a repeat of the restroom incident, and I want to swallow her dick until she shoots everything she has down my throat! Aaaaaahhhhh!

Sayaka! This is all your fault!

And why do you also have a tasty-looking cock?!

Also, why are the two of them looking at me as wide-eyed as Hitomi and…

…

“Just… just how much did I say out loud?” I ask them through the fingers covering my face.

“Uh… since… Well, the thing about swallowing our cocks?” Sayaka says, rubbing the back of her head with a disturbing lack of concern for the hands wrapped around her neck.

“She didn’t say anything about swallowing yours,” Hitomi dryly points out.

“She called it tasty!” Sayaka defends herself.

And Homura throws her to the other side of the roof.

The sound of Sayaka slamming against the wall of the second entrance to the roof reaches me at about the same time as a very intenseHomura seems to materialize right in front of me, her arms on my shoulders, her eyes on mine.

And, licking her lips with a forked tongue, she—

Gets kicked in the head by Sayaka.

Homura snarls as she twists around, the tip of her tail whipping at Sayaka as she raises her left arm and throws a wave of surging water as a moving wall that slams against half of Homura’s body and splashes a yelping Hitomi right before Sayaka jumps back to avoid a shadow whip that crashes like thunder on the tiles of the rooftop.

And cracks quite a few of them.

“Uh… can you two please stop?” I ask with a shamefully small voice as Hitomi shoots me a drenched yet still compassionate look, and Homura and Sayaka keep doing their best to hit one another while waving around those… those…

…

“If you stop, I’ll suck your cocks!”

They… stop.

Quite suddenly.

And three girls look at me hard enough that I feel like I should burn with shame rather than keep being regretfully alive.

“Ma… Madoka?” Homura asks, yet again using that voice that isn’t making things any easier!

“Ma… Madoka?!” Sayaka asks, her face darkening to ocean blue in what I would think to be embarrassment if her cock hadn’t just twitched hard enough to throw up a thick dollop of delicious-looking—damn it!

“Forbidden love,” Hitomi mutters, rolling her eyes and… her skirt?!

“Hitomi?!” I point at her, not knowing what else to do as she—

“Look, I no longer feel like I need to go to the hospital, but I’m not about to get tag-teamed by those two, even if Sayaka’s stupid, dumb, delicious magic keeps bouncing around inside my head, so… could you… put on a bit of a show?” she says as she slides her hand up her thighs and—

“Are you sure—” Sayaka asks her as she—

“Yes. Yes, I’m sure I want to be able to use my legs today. Go ahead, friend. After all, you would never do anything to risk our precious friendship, would you?” Hitomi replies.

…

I think she may be slightly mad at Sayaka. Just a hunch.

Also, Homura is right in front of me. As in, her thingis right in front of me, wobbling with the sudden movement as her snake tail fidgets and taps against the checkered tiles in the cutest thing I ever thought I would see from a reptile.

“Madoka, I…” she breathes out again, with that damn tone that makes my already moist panties just drenched, because it does things to me that I don’t quite understand, but that definitely align with that ‘Let’s get it on,’ verse.

So I slowly lean forward, her scent hitting my nose, muddling my thoughts, my tongue peeking out to briefly lick my lips before—

Before Sayaka grabs my right twin tail and pulls me harddown against her own cock, my lips mashing against her wet tip, something salty getting past them and making my eyelids flutter.

“Hey!” Homura yells.

“First!” Sayaka claims.

My eye twitches.

And I bite.

“Gah! Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck! Madoka, what the Hell—”

“Be nice. I’m about to make the two of you… calm down, so you better get along, or I’ll be very cross with you. Do you understand me?” I tell her, once more standing up, my arms crossed and hopefully hiding nipples that feel stiffer than they have ever been.

I’m also trying very hard to ignore that Homura’s cock is now precisely at eye level.

And her smell… It… It makes me want to…

“Are you… sure?” Homura asks, her voice trembling almost as much as her hand as she reaches down to cradle my cheek, to give me her warmth as I nuzzle against her scaled palm, my head swimming not just with a raunchy song, but with—

With…

…

Uh… I don’t know with what, all right?! I just know that I want to grab her hips and bury my face right beside her dick, and pepper the side of it with kisses as I gather her precum with my palm, rubbing soothing circles on her soft, yielding tip as my hand glides faster and smoother with every turn, and—

And Homura’s moaning?

…

This is all Sayaka’s fault. Me losing control and saying and doing the things I’m thinking is all Sayaka’s fault. It’s all her magic and not me being more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life since I discovered that leaning against the washing machine made me feel funny.

Hitomi, softly rubbing over her wet panties with two fingers, looks at me and nods, obviously agreeing with me rather than encouraging me to give her a show.

Yes. This is what’s happening. And it’s all Sayaka’s fault.

“I can’t believe I’m still hard after that,” Sayaka mutters.

And then a strong, firm hand grabs my twin tails from behind my head and slowly pulls me away from Homura and her maddening scent, the pink fog behind my eyes thickening as I desperately take in a bit more of her aroma before I’m forced to part with it, and…

And Sayaka shoves her own cock beneath my nose, adding her own scent to the mist as I clench my thighs together.

“Kiss it better,” she murmurs as she uses her free hand to drag her tip along my lips like the lewdest lipstick I’ll ever use, the trace of something salty hitting me as hard as their scents combined.

She’s… She has a tail. A mermaid’s tail. And she’s standing on it to be as tall as Homura, to have their two cocks pointed right at me while they dwarf me, making me feel so delightfully small, so utterly surrounded…

My eyes flutter, entirely out of my control, and I moan as my hand goes from Homura’s tip to her root, grabbing her as hard as I can, my fingers unable to reach my thumb as I do so, and the burning behind my navel throbbing at the idea of it, of Homura being so thick I can’t even grab her properly.

The idea of how it would feel if she coiled around me again, looked right into my eyes, and said ‘Madoka’ once more before sliding her—aaaaaaahhhh! No! That’s not happening! We’re friends! Very good friends! Friends who are comfortable enough with one another to give the occasional blowjob or handjob to!

… This is all Sayaka’s fault.

Sayaka, who’s insistently pushing her cock against my lips, and she’s also a good friend, even if she’s being a bit of a jerk right now.

Hitomi is biting her lip.

And staring.

So… I…

I kinda stare back? And feel my heart beat a bit faster, and my knees tremble as I begin sliding my hand up and down Homura’s big, throbbing dick, taking a bit more of her precum when I reach the tip so I can coat her better on the way down as I try to twist my hand this way and that, making her hunch forward, over me, her body and wings covering me in shadow as she grunts and moans, her hand on the side of my neck making me shiver and whine—

And Sayaka pushes.

My eyes fly wide open as she just… glides past my lips. Because she doesn’t need me to… to lubricate her as her skin seems to be covered in that same salty lotion that’s making me go cross-eyed as she goes over my tongue and makes everything inside my head explode.

And now I’m on my knees, and the two of them are standing over me, Sayaka’s entire tip past my lips, stretching my mouth open, making my jaw feel on the verge of something that should be painful but isn’t as I just keep craving more and more of the warm thing pouring out of her tip and the cool sensation going in and out of my tingling mouth, pulling at my lips with every slow, deliberate stroke.

I… I almost forget about Homura, but she just… She just runs the back of her fingers up my neck, and I shudder, Sayaka yelping as my movement goes straight to her before I join my two hands around Homura’s cock, staring straight at it while holding Sayaka’s still, making Homura’s point at my eye and seeing it bobble with the long, forceful strokes.

Hitomi cries out, and I manage to look at her long enough to see her panties dangling from her left knee, her blouse unbuttoned, her bra askew, her left hand pulling at her right nipple, and three fingers shoving in and out of her pussy with a very similar noise to what Sayaka’s making in my mouth.

She meets my eyes, blushing fiercely, her face twisting in shame before she bites her lip and spreads her legs farther.

I…

I manage to drag my mouth almost entirely off Sayaka’s cock, to beg them to do something to me before I go insane, because their smell, their touch, and their taste are driving me to my limits, and I feel as if the breeze could make me come hard enough to scream.

But… But Sayaka’s cock is just delicious enough that my hunger and my shame push my lust back, and so I swallow it back as my childhood friend groans before undoing my ribbons and loosely tying them around my neck, my fair falling freely over my shoulders right before she caresses my cheek and makes me look up into blue eyes lidded with something that makes me whinearound her stiff shaft.

“Madoka… I’m sorry, Madoka… Please, please…” she says before I push up with my tongue and I slide her cockhead along my palate all the way to my throat, almost choking on it before I stop, marveling at…

At…

She’s a magical girl.

A magical girl with a monster form.

And I can make her shut up, shudder, clench her fingers around my hair.

… Oh, so I could still be more turned on.

I let go of Homura’s cock with one hand to wrap it around Sayaka’s base, my hands resting on twin members as I try not to have my eyes flutter while I drag my lips off Sayaka’s cock before turning to my left and kissing Homura’s tip, spreading her own flavor all over my lips as I pout up into slitted, lavender eyes that go wide when I amorously kiss her tip, twisting my head as if I was meeting a lover’s lips.

More fluid comes out of her, more of the delicious, sticky, glimmering thing that is now copious enough to drip down my chin.

So I go back, pointing the two dicks at me before I start gently moving my hands up and down, synchronizing their speed along them.

And I look up at the two girls standing on inhuman tails atop my kneeling, short, vulnerably small self as if I’m the center of their world, the answer to their prayers.

“Undress me,” I tell both of them with a shy mile. “I… I don’t want to get dirty.”

Sayaka loudly swallows before leaning down to undo my uniform’s ribbon, leaving my hair ties to adorn my neck before Homura bends around me, stretching without moving her cock out of my grasp to reach my skirt and slowly, reverently, unfastening the button and pulling down the zipper until my upper thigh is revealed and I’m glad that today I wore plain, white panties rather than the childish ones with a teddy bear on the front of them.

Her finger, coated in black scales that feel like the softest leather, like gloves she would wear if she was interested in things I’ve only seen on the internet and rarely considered without a stammering blush, trace inside the slit of my skirt, reaching the side of my panties, hesitating before sliding beneath them and pulling at the elastic.

And Sayaka, who has been frozen, staring down at what her rival is doing to me, gets startled when I give her a warning squeeze, and she bites her lip before slowly undoing, one by one, the buttons of first my jacket…

And then my blouse.

She sees my white cotton bra, the one that isn’t thick enough to conceal what the two of them have done to my nipples, and she swallows once again before looking into my eyes.

I nod.

And she…

She reaches toward my breasts, which have never been as bountiful as hers, but are still a nice palmful that I’ve gotten used to squeezing over the past couple of years, and she pulls the bra up until my… my titsslide out of the cups, my breast bouncing and my nipples grazing past the underwire fast enough that a short whimper escapes my mouth.

And then I’m lifted off the floor, no longer kneeling, dangling from the grasp of a towering Homura as Sayaka slides my skirt and panties off, the busty girl looking alternatively at Homura and me as her face goes past my navel, then my… my pussy.

My wet, open, aching pussy that yearns for their touch, that wants nothing more than for them to hug me, squeeze me between two soft bodies, and thrust inside of me. And I’m so far gone I wouldn’t even care if Homura took my ass or if they both slid into the same hole. I would cheer them on as they bounced me between them, as they used me until they came inside of me, stuffing me with jet after jet of delicious, salty fluid that I would take out of me with trembling fingers before shoving them inside my mouth and tasting it like I almost did this morning with Sayaka’s puddle of cum temptingly oozing out of her and Hitomi’s stall and into mine, saturating my head with her scent as I rubbed myself to their moans again and again—

Homura is kissing the back of my head.

I… I am naked. Completely naked, except for my white, thigh-high socks, and her bare breasts are pushing against my back, breasts that weren’t this big when I last saw her, but I also was younger back then, and now we’re here, together, the perfect age to start—

Sayaka kisses me.

My eyes fly wide open as she slides her tongue into my mouth, her taste completely different from that of the coating of her cock even as her lips glide over mine, and I can see Hitomi getting rough with herself out of the corner of my eye as Sayaka’s naked breasts push against mine.

“Bitch…” Homura mutters before gently pulling me away and turning my head back as her neck stretches to reach over my shoulder, to meet my lips as gently as Sayaka just did before a thinner, longer tongue flitters against them with what takes me a moment to realize are twin tips that I no longer resist as I let her in with a toe-curling moan that she swallows whole as her tongue wraps around mine, tightening until a point that should be painful, but only makes me writhe between Sayaka and her, feeling their breasts on my body, Sayaka gliding against me as Homura holds me.

I could cum. I could cum, just like this, just with a flick of either of their fingers on my nipples or my clitoris. I could do it hard enough to faint, to fall into a deep sleep filled with dreams of a mermaid and winged, snake woman entangling me within their bodies and making my mind empty with every—

I’m… on the floor? Again?

“Madoka… Madoka, I’m sorry, but I need you,” Sayaka says, Homura’s expression of suffering a mirror of her own as they stand side by side yet again.

Looking down at me.

Throbbing in front of me.

“Then…” I say, lifting my hands to lay the tip of one finger on each of their own tips, just hard enough to have the soft flesh push back against my touch. “Then… are you two going to… take me?” I finally say, asking what I had wanted to ask before and was too scared to, silencing my own pleas with Sayaka’s cock.

They… Blink down at me.

Then at one another.

“What?!” Homura says, frantically waving her hands between our faces.

“No way, no way, no way!” Sayaka adds, doing pretty much the same thing.

… I’m very confused right now.

“Wha—why?” I ask them, still touching their cocks, but my face going from mind-numbing arousal to confusion.

“It… Right here? In the middle of the day?” Homura asks. “No! Definitely not! You deserve something romantic, and… and… I don’t know! Wine, and roses, and candles, and poetry, an outside pool—or a beach! Yes, you deserve to look out at the ocean from a bed with satin sheets covered with rose petals! And that’s… and…”

“And music! You deserve music, and lingerie, and… An entire weekend! Yes! You deserve someone to take their time with you and show you how loved you are—” Sayaka adds.

“Excuse me?!” Hitomi comments.

And the bluette goes very, very still.

“Yesssss?” she asks, so sibilant Homura looks impressed.

“Madoka deserves all of that for her first time?”

“At the minimum,” Homura says under her breath, making me both very pleased and slightly mad.

“I mean… She’s Madoka,” Sayaka tries to explain with a hopeless shrug, adding to the previous two emotions.

And getting a pair of drenched panties thrown right at her face.

“You took me in a bathroom stall!”

“I apologized!”

“A bathroom. Stall.”

“There were attenuating circumstances! Magic involved!”

“Just like right now!”

Sayaka goes to protest, then thinks better of it and looks down at me.

“You know, it’s weird now that you mention it. I’m up for doing about everything to Madoka, but the thought of taking her first like this is just so wrong…” she says as Homura nods in solemn agreement for the first time since the two have met.

…

“I’m going to leave the two of you hanging,” I tell them.

They go slightly paler in their respective palettes and look at one another before staring down at their cocks still beneath my fingers.

“You know, it’s just… I just don’t see you that way. Not while you have a cock,” Sayaka tells Homura almost conversationally.

“I… I admit to thinking much the same. Don’t misunderstand; I would dearly love to bend you over and put you in your place, but you need to get rid of that thing before I do it.”

“Right, right. Likewise. I think I would enjoy making you squeal until you went hoarse, but… you know. The dick.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

Then the two of them nod and turn to look at Hitomi, who, dressed in a way that’s far more indecent than anything she could manage without clothes and still showing me far more than I ever thought I would see of her, blanches.

“No way. Absolutely no way. I barely managed to survive Sayaka without going into a coma; I’m not taking care of both of you at once, no matter how magically horny I now am.”

Both Homura and Sayaka keep up their eerie synchronicity as they look back at me.

Kneeling between and beneath them.

And giving me puppy eyes.

…

“Fine…” I grumble before grabbing them and jerking them off as hard and fast as I can.

I intend it to be a bit of a punishment, a way to have them wince at the rough treatment.

They… groan.

Both of them. At once.

At my touch.

And, just like that, I’m once again burning with arousal, their scents hitting my self-restraint like a battering ram, a moan trying to escape my lips before I bite the lower one hard enough that my eyes water—except it’s definitely not from the pain, but because of something far more overwhelming.

I… I want to touch myself. I want to give them a show so that they understand that I am as much of a woman as they are, and I want them to want me so much that those ridiculous complaints of theirs don’t even matter. I want them so aroused at the thought of taking me that they cannot stop themselves from grabbing me beneath my knees and lifting me up before spearing me open from down below, making me cum right as they enter me, making me scream their names as they fill my body, my mind, until there’s nothing left but… but…

But they won’t do it!

I glare at them with a bit of anger, but they have their eyes closed in sheer ecstasy, and…

Oh.

A brief spark of inspiration strikes, and I…

Well, I’m not that smart. Or athletic. Or really talented at anything.

But I think this can work.

So I suddenly let both of them go, their hips jerking forward as if trying to blindly look for my touch before they manage to open their eyes with mirrored groans.

And they look at me.

Beneath them.

Pulling my left nipple hard enough to lift my breast up, touching my lower lips, waiting for the moment their eyes are on me to shove two fingers slickened with both my fluids and theirs inside of me hard enough they go as deep as the second knuckle.

Which… Seeing them throbbing and bobbing in front of me…

Right. Two fingers and two knuckles no longer sound as impressive as I used to think.

But they are staring at me, mouths dropped open as I put on a show for them just as Hitomi keeps doing from her spot against the dandelion planter, and I lean back, my eyes lidded with both sheer, raw pleasure and the knowledge that their eyes are on me, drinking me…

“I… I’m not going to touch you,” I say. “You’re going to have to do it yourselves.”

They stare hungrily at where my fingers plunge inside of me with a wet, shameful splash, then at my shaking breasts, at my reddened chest and neck, my open lips…

And then, rather than diving down to take me, to shove their tongues where my fingers are, their hands all over my body…

They grasp their dicks.

…

They are morons.

“What are you… Hn!” I try to berate them, but their scent’s still all over me, and their flavor’s on my tongue, cheeks, and throat, and my skin is burning.

And, just as I throw my head back, as my loose hair sways around my neck and my ribbons shift while sticking to my sweaty skin… They jerk off.

Harder and rougher than when I did it for them, out of rhythm with one another, the two of them just stare at me with a hunger so intense that it sends a burst of immensely pleasurable fear through me.

They are right over me, and dollops of transparent fluid fall down from both Homura and Sayaka to splatter against me, to stick to my free nipple, to my cleavage, to run down the shallow line along the middle of my belly, and pool on my navel as my eyes flutter once more, as I open my mouth to protest them not touching me, and I instead end up moaning wordlessly and wagging my tongue in mid-air.

And then they come.

Sayaka’s first, pointing at me with two hands as her hips jerk forward, fucking them as she doesn’t dare to fuck me, but Homura follows right before the scalding fluid shoots across my cheek, the dark-haired girl trembling as she rests a hand on my shoulder, the pad of her thumb on the hollow of my throat, right above the ribbons as she shoots straight into my mouth and makes my world go white and just be a burning trail of frenzied bliss rushing over my tongue and down my throat as my own fingers finally reach a spot a bit deeper than I ever went for and I explode both above and below.

Then… They keep doing it.

I feel their cum shooting down at me, tracing lines of branding pleasure all over my skin, dripping down in molten heat, sometimes finding my wagging tongue to add even more to the mind-blanking flavor that makes my fingers abuse me again and again as I howl silently, as I’m emptied of everything but their cum and my fingers.

I swallow again and again, wanting more, needingmore.

And they give it to me.

Until I’m laying on my back, puddles of steaming cum on and around me, my ribbons plastered to my chest with both Sayaka’s and Homura’s seed, my hair spread out on wet tiles, my hands clenching and releasing empty air as my eyes refuse to come back from staring at the back of my skull.

Then… Then there’s the heavy sound of two enormous bodies falling down by my sides, and a scaled hand and a webbed one gently, delicately, grab my wrists.

Then they take my limp arms and…

And wrap each of my hands around twin, throbbing, hard, thick cocks.

I smile and, as gently as I possibly can, start jerking them off as Hitomi’s weak moans reach me.

I always loved helping my friends, after all.

***

Kyouko – Soon, the Student Shall Be the Master

I’m not stalking her.

No, really, this is perfectly normal and acceptable behavior. Mami’s an old… friend. We’ve known each other for years, at the very least.

And fought by one another’s sides.

And saved each other’s lives.

…

That counts, right? This is something that counts as being friends, isn’t it? And, I mean, one friend waiting for another to get out of class to have a nice chat over a cup of tea and some cake is something perfectly normal and sensible, even if that friend bound you with gold chains to pseudo-Greek ruins and rammed two cocks deep inside your butt and pussy at the same time until your mooing became the kind of moaning that always manages to make this friend of yours come her brains out, right?

That’s… Friendship? And… And cuddling for a couple of hours, kissing and caressing one another, wrapped in the other’s arms, not saying anything as you become lost in the golden eyes of your… friend, that’s perfectly reasonable. I’m sure there have been some friends, at some point in history, for whom exhausted, physical intimacy was their go-to.

…

Why can’t nothing ever be easy?!

This is all your fault, Mami. Yours, and those tits of yours, always bouncing around all over the place. Do you have the slightest idea what those did to an impressionable, young mind? Just how hard it was for your cute little apprentice’ to remain focused on fighting phantoms while you kept jiggling? Do you?!

Because I certainly do. I certainly know what it’s like to have the same fantasy year after year, touching myself to sleep even after fucking ten phantoms to death in a row. Even after doing precisely the one thing you claimed I didn’t need to do because cashing shards in with Kyuubey should have been more than enough.

Guess what? It wasn’t.

First, because the damn bitch kept disappearing whenever it was less convenient for me. Second, because she kept prodding me to stop ‘being as much of a stuck-up prude as that kooky mentor of yours, Kyouko Sakura.’ And third, because…

Because…

Trying not to blush like the pure, chaste maiden I definitely am not, I glare at the clock on top of the school, daring it not to chime the bell as soon as it damn should, because I’m not going to just stand in front of these gates, waiting for my friend, and…

And…

Cake.

Cake and tea.

A nice, normal afternoon. Chatting. Catching up on our lives. Sharing a couple anecdotes while wearing a dress she once said would look good on me, and that I just have lying around because.

A perfectly regular, friendly outing that isn’t a date nor anything remotely similar, because I’m not planning on something as stupid and sappy as saving my maidenhood for her after all these years; it’s just that when I fuck a phantom, I’m usually in the mood to do it with my dick, and this doesn’t have any deeper meaning to read into.

Not at all.

I’m not in love with Mami Tomoe. Shut up.

…

All right, if I have to stand here for a single fucking minute more, I’m gonna scream—

The bell! Yes!

Not because I’m impatient or anything, I flare a bit of my power and let my draconic senses come out, my nostrils flaring as I sniff the magic out of the air in search of my treasure and—no! Mami’s not my treasure! It’s just… Well, friends are a treasure, aren’t they? And she’s my friend? So… Yes. All right.

I sniff out the air, searching for my treasure, and—

Depths. Pearls. Forgotten beneath the waves. A chest still locked despite the ocean rushing over it. Mystery and—

A new girl.

I narrow my eyes, looking over the students rushing out of the gates until I spy a blue-haired girl listlessly looking around, waiting for somebody else to come out.

I narrow my eyes.

It… It could be a coincidence.

It could be sheer luck that a new magical girl has just appeared at Mami’s school and is looking in dire need of guidance, with the same shell-shocked look I had the first time I fucked a phantom wearing Mami’s face (and a cow-print bikini that hid nothing at all). It could be something that has nothing at all to do with me.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, shoot a glare at the surprised teacher manning the gates, and stride inside the school’s front yard.

Then I stand in front of the… bouncy girl, my hands deep in the pockets of my hoodie, and glare at her.

“You waiting for Mami?” I say.

“What?” she asks with her eyes widening as she catches sight of somebody who happily walks by, followed by no less than four phantom versions of my former teacher, each lewder than the last.

Fuck.

“You look like you need a talk, rookie,” I tell her as I grab her elbow and walk her out of the school, walking toward a street other than the one where I had looked up a cute, small, cozy café with teas and cakes to die for.

This is all Mami’s fault, I swear.

… Next time, she’s paying.