Puella Monstrum Madoka Moecha – Chapter – 7 – And Now, for Something Completely Different

Madoka – The New Girl Is So Dreamy

OK, OK, I managed to, somehow, make it to the second period with clean underwear. It only took rushing back home and hurriedly changing in my room while refusing to answer any uncomfortable questions (that is: all of them).

… I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to look Dad in the eye sometime before I graduate.

The thing is, as the health committee representative for our class, I’m pretty sure I can come up with some excuse for Miss Saotome to not make my tardiness an issue, and so I just need to confidently stride toward the class door, put on an apologetic smile, and stop standing ramrod still in the middle of the corridor, staring at the long-haired girl about to go into my class, and…

Oh.

I… I know her.

I…

I look at the dark hair falling over her shoulders like a cloak of shimmering shadow, at the effortless grace with which she throws it back before striding forward, and I…

There’s a typhoon, yet I’m outside.

Buildings crumble to pieces around me, yet I stand.

Sayaka, Mami, and a red-haired girl are on the ground, lying between rubble. Unmoving.

Yet I breathe.

“Have you made a decision?” Kyuubey asks, sitting by my side on the cracked pavement.

Both of us are staring at the only other person in here, the one leaping impossible distances, climbing to heights that belong to birds, raining bullets on the heart of the storm.

Falling.

And standing.

Again. And again.

She’s… She’s beautiful.

Her body’s slender, her movement carrying her with a grace that I somehow know isn’t natural, but born of painful, excruciating practice.

She’s my friend.

My best friend.

“Homura…” I whisper.

“She can’t win. This is pointless,” Kyuubey says, almost reproachful that I would devote so much attention to her.

Yet I can’t tear my eyes away from the girl of my dreams.

There’s a rivulet of blood falling down her forehead, forcing her to close her left eye even as she discards her pistol and draws a rifle, her form blinking in and out of the world, almost making it seem like there are two of her. Then three. Then four.

I stop counting at ten, when the roar of the hundreds, maybe thousands of bullets explodes in front of me, and I have to close my eyes for a brief moment.

When I open them, there’s a single Homura, lying on the ground, looking up into the sky.

And she doesn’t get up.

“If you wish to save her, there’s a straightforward way to do so,” Kyuubey reminds me.

And I…

I look as Homura’s eyes widen in panic, and, struggling on shaking arms, she turns back to me. And I can only answer her silent plea with a sad smile.

Then I turn to Kyuubey, and my lips shape the bitterest words I could ever imagine:

“I wish you understood how we feel.”

The dream fades, and I stumble.

It’s… the same dream. The same I had days ago, the same that repeated yesterday morning.

And, on the other side of the corridor, looking at me, Homura Akemi’s mouth opens in shock right as something in my chest bursts, the feelings of relief, of longing, of love rushing through me only met by mounting panic in her eyes.

It may have to do with me taking a running start before jumping on top of her and dragging her to the floor as I wrap my arms around her and refuse to ever let go.

Just… an educated guess?

***

Homura – Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

What? What?! What?!

Aaaaaaaahhhhh!

“… I take it you have met before?” Miss Saotome says, leaning on the doorframe and looking at Madoka hugging me as I flail my arms in sheer panic.

“She’s an old friend! I didn’t know she was coming today! I’m sorry!” Madoka says as she jumps off me and leaves me feeling really, reallyconflicted about how this latest bout of social mortification just ended.

I mean, the damage’s already done, so maybe she could’ve stayed just a bit more? Just long enough that I could’ve slithered around her soft body, wrapping her in my coils until only her lips—

Ouch.

She just kicked my shin!

Madoka!

“Isn’t that right, Homura?” she says with a warning tone before her eyes focus on the side of my thighs beneath my pantyhose that are now exposed after she made my skirt crawl up with her sneak attack and—

Oh.

Scales.

Fuck.

I bite my lip and focus on repressing any images of my legs melding into something to tie Madoka to me with—wrong choice of words. I focus on my scales receding. On my body being normal. And definitely on not having a dick to fuck Madoka with—shit!

“Yes! Yes, Miss Saotome, it was meant to be a surprise, but I didn’t count on Madoka being late and meeting me in the corridor. She’s always so diligent, you know?” I tell the bewildered teacher as I hurry to stand up so my not-yet-erect dick can hopefully remain hidden in the folds of my skirt.

Which would be far easier if Madoka could stop blushing and staring.

“I see, she usually is very punctual and… Madoka… Don’t tell me you’re late because you got a boyfriend and he kept you up all night! Oh no, even little Madoka is now surpassing me!” the humanoid hamster says as she cradles her cheeks and wails her hopeless marital status to the world.

…

It’s reassuring to know that, even in a world where I have a dick and sex powers, some things never change.

***

Sayaka – Who Said Being a Paladin Was Easy?

You know a little thing I would have appreciated Mami warning me about? Other than the sex-fueled powers and the optional dick on casual Fridays?

Phantoms.

Oh, she certainly said there would be a lot of them. Told me how dangerous they can sometimes be, even if they often aren’t. Made me promise I’d seek her help on my first few hunts.

You know what she didn’t tell me?

That the whole fucking school is filled with lewd versions of Mami!

Mami in a cowprint bikini seems to be the most predominant phantom, but there are a few with actual cowgirl costumes, and then there are ones with the kind of cowgirl costume that includes two revolvers, leather chaps, and very little else.

There’s also cheerleader Mami, nurse Mami, tutor Mami, police Mami, and what I think is some kind of ninja Mami, so long as we imagine a world where ninjas are, contrary to their job description, shameless exhibitionists.

There’s a lot of Mami, is what I’m saying.

And there’s also a lot of me. Which is really flattering, don’t misunderstand, but it’s very hard for me to process just how many of my classmates have been jerking themselves raw to thoughts of me in a school swimsuit three sizes too small (the answer may surprise you—it sure shocked me).

Also, for some bizarre reason, Hitomi and I seem to be a really popular set.

Sometimes, phantom Madoka joins in on the action.

I’ve even seen one particular instance where she is the one dicking Hitomi and me down. I’m afraid to learn who that belongs to.

I mean, at that point, I’ll either break his jaw or ask for an autograph.

Well, maybe not his, because it turns out that Madoka is really, really popular with a few very quiet girls who tend not to speak at all when they are in the locker room.

… Something I can now perfectly sympathize with.

OK, so, my entire high school is now filled with gravure versions of me, my friends, and my respected senior in monster hunting who should be getting a piece of my mind before the day is over.

… I’m not naming my dick ‘Mind.’

At least we’re supposed to be getting a new classmate, who will hopefully not be a mysterious transfer student about to upend my whole worldview, because that’s one manga cliché I could do without after the past few days—

Who’s that girl Miss Saotome is dragging into the classroom?

And why is that bitch holding Madoka’s hand?!

***

Hitomi – Forbidden Love

I’m no longer dripping Sayaka down my thighs.

At some point in this morning, I’ve been dripping Sayaka down my thighs.

…

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!

***

Mami – The Not So Calm Before the Storm

I am a dignified magical girl, a warrior of justice, a hero hidden from the masses I’m sworn to protect.

Which means I shouldn’t contemplate smashing Miura’s head open after walking in here with, yet again, a version of me wearing the sluttiest cheerleader uniform I’ve ever seen.

Again?

Just how much do you jerk off to me?! Is it that interesting to see me bounce up and down, my breasts bursting out of that ridiculously small, navy blue top?! Is it that fascinating to see me shake and shiver as I’m speared open by a thick cock while holding yellow pompoms?! Would Kyouko like to—

Damn it!

OK. OK, Mami, just… breathe. At least there are no Sayakas in my class to thoroughly distract me after drinking my milk and having her breasts go up an entire cup and making me yearn to knead her soft flesh between—gods damn it!

Fine. Fine. Just… breathe. Kyouko did a number on you, and you’re now overly fixated on sex to the point you’re contemplating the most interesting, alternative ways of dealing with your phantom doppelgangers, but that’s just the monster talking. You can still resist your base impulses, devote yourself to your noble calling, and make sure little Sayaka doesn’t end up bouncing on top of Kyouko’s twin dicks, moaning her brains out like a whorish little slut in need of some disciplining by her teacher—

Damn! It! All!

Right. Again. Breathe. Hold it in until you’re lightheaded due to actual physical causes and not magically-induced arousal. Slooowly let it out.

Then straighten your back and pay attention to the teacher, because entrance exams are coming closer with every passing day, and I can’t afford to let sex, magical or not, distract me at this critical juncture.

That’s right, I’m using expressions like ‘critical juncture.’ Would an oversexed cowgirl do that? I don’t think so.

…

Being a monster girl is suffering, and nobody can convince me otherwise.

***

Komaki – Monster Girls Also Need Home Delivery

“Kirika? Oriko?” I ask after ringing the doorbell to the mansion my blonde schoolmate inhabits.

Once again, nobody comes to the door.

Knowing perfectly well where this is going, I let out a chagrined sigh.

It doesn’t get any better when the door’s handle turns by itself, and the door slowly swings open with an ominous creak.

“OK, I guess this is how we’re playing this,” I mutter to myself, low enough I’m not sure it will carry through Oriko’s webs.

With absolutely unnecessary caution, I step through the dark threshold of the horror movie-like mansion. The inside is barely lit due to all the windows being covered by the lace curtains that any sensible person would be shocked to discover are pure silk.

I mean, the spiderwebs artfully hanging from the ceiling are a good hint already, but, well, I guess most people won’t readily think ‘gigantic spider obsessively filling her entire home with any silk drapery she can produce just to keep the theme going’ when confronted by ostentatious amounts of shimmering fabric.

… I like the blouse she wove for my last birthday though.

Kirika likes… everything. Because Kirika.

“Is there anybody here?” I call out with perfunctory wariness as I brush a hanging cobweb aside and step through the corridor leading to the living room.

Then I feel a thin thread wrap around my right ankle, and I’m suddenly hanging from the ceiling.

Upside down.

I narrow my eyes at an apologetic Kirika, who’s still in her magical girl tailcoat, and she shoots me a sheepish smile as Oriko’s best villainess laughter comes from behind her.

She, of course, is in her full Arachne form.

… Which is kind of a pity, because Oriko in her halfwayform? Oh, dear, that… that does things to me.

When her pale flesh is hinted at through the translucent, white veils draped over the lower half of her face and over her generousbust… When her hips sway seductively, the golden coin belt holding the other set of veils, the ones that go around her smooth thighs as she walks on the natural high heels of her legs encased in what almost looks like moonlit, silvery chitin that ends halfway up her thighs in an elaborate pattern that seems to hint at the kind of stockings a bride would wear on her wedding night, and the way she will then always tilt my chin up with fingers encased in the same kind of shimmering chitin as it forms gloves that reach up almost to her shoulders…

…

Great. I guess I didn’t need clean panties, after all.

“Well, well, it looks like my prey has fallen into my web…” Oriko murmurs in what she believes to be a seductive drawl, her predatory smile covered with the back of her left hand, her head thrown back just the bare amount needed to highlight her more than noticeable height advantage.

Even more noticeable now that I’m hanging upside down.

“At least you didn’t ‘invite me into your parlor,’” I mutter low enough that Kirika won’t catch it as long as she remains human.

Oriko, on the other hand? While I’m caught in her webs?

Let’s just say I take a certain perverse delight in seeing the pale pink bloom over her cheeks.

“As I was saying!” she forcefully says. “You’re now helpless before me, Komaki Asako!”

She’s… pointing at me.

Dramatically.

… She’s such a dork.

“Oh, what will I ever do,” I say, trying not to drone. “I’ve been captured, and now I’m helpless before my captor.”

Kirika, quite discreetly by her standards, shoots me a thumbs up.

“Indeed… You certainly are… a prize to feast my eyes on, my little Komaki,” she says, stepping around Kirika, her six spider legs barely making any sound over the marble tiles, her two front legs, the ones that are almost human except in eerie details, remain daintily crossed beneath veils almost transparent enough for me to catch a hint of a pink valley that I—not yet. I need to remain human a bit longer. “But you are in my hold, my dear, and so, I think I shall feast in other ways.”

And then she’s leaning down to stare straight into my eyes, her upside-down face still as breathtaking as that first time I caught sight of her across the school’s auditorium, her side ponytail shimmering like spun gold that only highlights the silvery encasing of her body, the moonlit glow of her silk, the pearlescence of her skin…

..

OK, I’m in love and prone to lyricism. Sue me.

“You shall never defeat me, fiend!” Damn it, that sounded more enthusiastic than I intended.

I blame my libido.

Not, you know, the plenty of times Kirika and I have talked about how to better approach Oriko so she stops getting a complex about her monster form and the ‘big butt’ it gives her. Yeah. This is just me being horny and into roleplay, not me wanting to do my best to get my girlfriend to stop focusing on stupid things and finally realize just how attracted we both are to her.

Stupid, stupid libido.

“But I already have, fallen knight,” she says, her grin widening far enough that I can see the tips of her fangs glimmering with the droplets of whatever venom she’s now set on producing.

… OK, that’s just unfair. I’m already bound in her web, ready to be ravaged by Oriko and her minion (or our mutual girlfriend, same difference), and now she’s also about to inject me with whatever mind-bending brew she’s come up with since the last time we tried this? Screw that; I’m speeding up the scenario.

“You haven’t seen my full strength yet,” I mutter darkly, my eyes heated with defiance and—Kirika, would it kill you not to grin and shoot me a double thumbs up? I’m getting in character!

“Your full strength? Whatever do you mean?” Oriko says, backing away just enough for me to do… Well, my dramatic reveal.

“This! Moonlit Armor: Unleash!”

… If this ever gets recorded and shown to anyone I’m not currently having sex with, blood will flow.

Possibly mine. Murder suicides can get messy.

Anyway, my right hand comes up to my chest and clasps the pendant holding my soul gem (that is, not at all coincidentally, wrapped in a lattice of spider silk quite similar yet distinct from the one around Kirika’s own gem), and I let the magic pour out in glowing waves.

Then, with the ease of long practice, I skip past the frills of my regular magical girl form, and the light that surrounds me turns black as midnight as it wraps around my body, the bands of magic tightening into form-fitting plates of dark metal with just a hint of blue as an armor quite different from my regular outfit takes shape around me, expanding from my skin out and snapping all the silk threads binding me.

Thankfully, Oriko has given me enough height for me to turn around mid-air rather than faceplant. That first time was embarrassing enough.

And so I do. The tip of my metallic boot alights almost silently on the white marble as the plates keep growing, keep thickening, the whole suit of armor far heavier than any knight could’ve ever worn.

Except I’m… well, kind of an exception among knights.

“A dullahan?!” Oriko gasps, rearing back on four legs as dramatically as she can manage.

Which is a lot.

And I’ll always deny deriving any kind of pleasure from her cry coinciding with perfect timing with my head falling off my shoulders and into the gauntlets clasped in front of my chest plate, the tips of my elongated, pointed, elfin ears vibrating with the soft impact.

… Kirika, that knowing look better not be referring to this.

“This fairy knight is at your service, Lady Oriko. For as long as it will take for me to defeat you,” I say.

And then I throw my head up as I unsheathe my sword and unsling my shield from my back, the fall taking much longer than it should as I take stock of the prepared battlefield, and—

“To me, my faithful hound!” Oriko yells.

And, finally, Kirika grins.

“Yes, my Mistress!” she readily agrees. And then she throws her head back and howls.

No, it’s not needed at all. It has nothing to do with her magic or her monster self—at least not while she’s still in her regular magical girl form. She just likes to do it.

Because Kirika.

But I have to admit…

Her muscles pulse with power, tearing her tailcoat and white shirt to shreds as she grows just that much taller—not overtly muscular, but fit and defined in a way I find myself thinking about far too often. Her skin darkens to a grayish tone as her howl keeps going and her fangs lengthen, a collar of jet black fur sprouting below her neck and right above her breasts, now covered by a single band of torn leather holding them in place, pushing them together and around the tight piece of clothing.

And her howl keeps going, deepening as she arches her back, something primal running down my spine as her tail bursts forth, as bands of the same black fur cover her ankles and wrists, her claws lengthening in blades of obsidian right before the fur catches on fire that mirrors the blazes escaping from the corners of her eyes.

And so I’m, once again, caught flatfooted as I stare at Kirika’s hellhound form.

Part of it is just how incredibly attractive she is, how dangerousshe looks as she straightens before crouching down, arms and claws spread open in my direction as she cracks her neck to both sides in a way that feels far more dramatic than it should after witnessing it so many times.

The other is… well, whenever I see her like this, I can’t help but ask myself…

Why the spats?

I mean, the leather band is thematic enough. The fire is self-explanatory. The obsidian claws are impressive enough. The fluffy ears are something I’ll fight whoever dares think them unnecessary or excessive, and that goes double for her wagging, shaggy tail.

I’ll not even complain about her hands and feet turning halfway into paws, not with how entrancingly soft the pads are.

But… spats.

…

My best explanation so far is that Kirika.

“Get her!” Oriko yells.

And said Kirika jumps to me, arms spread by her sides, air screaming as it’s parted by her claws, and her fire roaring as it’s stoked by that very same air.

I turn just slightly aside, and I let her slam against my pauldron. It may seem an unwise course of action, but a brief look at Wikipedia told me that tanks are less armored than my shoulders are.

So Kirika hits me with a resounding clang that makes her wince as she reflexively covers her ears, which gives me just enough time to turn all the way around and bash my shield against her, accompanying the motion so she’s thrown against Oriko.

In a panic, she suppresses her flames so she doesn’t burn any webs along the way, and I reach up with my shield to bounce my head up so I can maintain my bird’s eye view of the hall.

“Your resistance is futile!” Oriko shouts as she shoots me a string of web while catching Kirika in her arms.

Kirika, for some reason, seems to be stunned and isn’t moving away from where her face is buried between Oriko’s breasts.

… Bitch.

I dodge the web with a step to my left before I realize that I’m about to step on a single web laid over the floor, and I force myself to jump over it and roll to my feet, my body already turning when I see Kirika jumping after me, yet again doing her utterly unnecessary (yet always appreciated) kicking splits.

Her claws clash against the edge of my sword, both of them black, both of them illuminated by the burst of sparks she ignites with the force of her strike that seem to spread over her fur before it’s set ablaze yet again.

“Hey, you’re doing better than last time,” she says under her breath with an encouraging grin.

… And I’m close enough to catch that, which means my head is definitely too low, and I need to hurry to catch it before any of them does.

“Begone, fiend! You and your mistress shall taste my blade!” I shout above her, making her look up and taking the opening to hit her exposed (and exceedingly defined) abs with the edge of my shield hard enough that she wheezes and takes a step back.

Then I turn to grab my head and—

And I catch Oriko’s smug smile just as my left wrist, extending beyond the rim of my shield, hits something that was perfectly invisible until now that Kirika’s flames are no longer blocked by the said shield.

The gleaming, orange thread snaps before whipping around my arm, and Kirika sinks her claws on the marble before using them to spin around, catching me on a sweeping kick that sends me tumbling back, my head slipping from my grasp and…

And flying straight into Oriko’s arms.

… At least now I’m the one buried face-first on her cleavage.

“It seems you lacked… foresight, Dullahan,” she says, grinning down at me in the way only a dork prone to being unduly proud of her ‘all according to the scenario’ moments would.

… I’m not bitter. This is all part of the roleplaying. Shut up.

“You haven’t defeated me yet, fiend,” I tell her defiantly, eyes narrowed, lips set into a thin line.

“Not yet, no. But the only thing left to do is… to have you defeat yourself,” she says before she licks her lips and lifts my head so I’m face to face with her as my body tries to blindly fight off the bouncing, hyperactive Kirika and—

And Oriko kisses me.

My eyes shoot open before I struggle to suppress a moan that I can feel bubbling up in the chest behind me, and I can’t help but open my mouth to let Oriko’s agile tongue in, to let her nibble on my lips before she drags my own tongue into her mouth and she—

Bites me?! What the—oh. Oh, fuck, no.

I… It’s too late to do anything other than clench my eyes shut as the liquid heat pools over my tongue before shooting down through it, turning the whole meat into burning need that makes me frantically lick at Oriko’s own tongue, wrapping me around her, swallowing her spit as if it could soothe the sudden thirst gnawing below my navel as Oriko’s venom fills my whole body and…

Kirika trips me, and I fall back, spread-eagled on a web big and thick enough to hold the weight of my armor.

Then Oriko’s tongue twirls around mine, and I whimper as I feel Kirika’s claws slide beneath the straps connecting my faulds to my cuirass, and suddenly I’m exposed, but not as much as when she tears through the bodysuit that covers my hips, and…

Cool air hits my heated thighs, the contrast almost painful before Kirika’s head slides between them, her soft, short hair soothing in a way that is still maddening as Oriko’s deft fingers keep my face in place as she toys with my lips and tongue, and…

And then she pulls me away, holding my head in front of her, and I have to force myself to open my eyes and hold back a whimper as Kirika kisses me right above my mons.

“See, knight? All that might of yours… and you still fall so easily,” Oriko says.

And… And I would usually narrow my eyes. I would vividly picture how Oriko’s human self fares against me when I hold her down, letting my cock spring forth to spear her open as Kirika sits on her face and we two kiss over the pale body beaded with glimmering pearls of sweat that only ever manage to highlight her beauty and curves even as she trembles when I tear an orgasm out of her whimpering, gasping, moaning throat as Kirika keeps kneading her pale breasts with her perennial fascination for everything Oriko’s.

But now, with her venom rushing through me, with the heat boiling just beneath my skin…

I gasp, my tongue peeking out of my lips to taste air that is just close enough to my lover to make all the difference.

She smiles, confidently, almost cruelly, sending a thrill down my arms as I struggle to free them, to tear her web apart and grab Kirika’s hair just so I can force her a bit higher, just above the wet spot she’s licking over the inside of my right thigh with a tongue that’s…

Oh, Kirika’s tongue is… hn!

And… And Oriko is turning my head, bringing my ear right in front of her lips, letting me catch sight of Kirika’s now naked body kneeling in front of mine, beneath my open thighs, and—

“We readied all this for you, you know? I planned every single of your steps since you came through my door, laid every thread you snapped with your careless passage, instructed our little Kirika on how to leap, how to strike, how to… caress,” she purrs before lightly nibbling on the far too sensitive, pointed tip of my ear in a way that I struggle not to have me shiver.

And, just then, Kirika’s claws effortlessly cut through both the silk glued to my behind and the tatters of my remaining bodysuit in the area, grasping both my cheeks, her fingers sinking into them, the points of her claws prickling me in a way that’s just shy of painful, that just makes me focus on the sensation right before Oriko’s tongue slides into my ear canal, wetly slithering inside of me, the gurgling sound almost as maddening as the burst of sensation as I’m the one whimpering, gasping, moaning…

“Oriko… Oh, heavens, Oriko…” I beg, almost breaking character and only managing not to because I’m, for once, a true captive for her to play with as she pleases.

“I haven’t even started, dear,” she says, her tongue leaving my ear wet and hot before she slowly licks down my jawbone, stopping just behind it to suck at a spot I never knew was sensitive enough to make me curl my toes inside my sabatons and clench both my teeth and eyes.

And then Kirika licks up, and I open them in a wide-eyed, shameful burst of sound.

“Everything, my dear fairy knight. Everything has been planned for you,” Oriko whispers with warm sin in her voice.

And then she turns me aside so I can no longer watch Kirika wagging her round behind at me in the corner of my blurry vision, so I can no longer marvel at how her swaying tail is so utterly maddening even as it teases me with all the memories of me grabbing her by it, using it as a handle as I sunk into her flesh while she licked between Oriko’s spread legs like she’s doing between mine.

No, I can no longer see Kirika.

But I see Oriko.

She… She smiles at me, cruelty and gentleness mixing in a way that makes my heart race even faster than it already was, her teal eyes weighing me down, making me clench my fists and struggle against my bonds in a desperate bid to tear free, to… to grab both Kirika and her, carrying them to her bed and…

And, with her free hand, with chitin nails sharper than they have any right to be… Oriko parts the veils covering her breasts.

The cut is so fluid, so effortless, that the fabric takes a moment to fall down, the gossamer seeming reluctant to part from her skin as it finally wavers, turning fluid moonlight as it glides down the smooth, round shapes, finally revealing her pale nipples to me.

My mouth is dry, and I know the venom has very little to do with it.

“Dame Komaki, I’m now offering you a choice,” she says in a tone that’s so far from her dorky, awkward self that I don’t even register the incongruity as I let myself be swept away by Oriko. By dangerous, seductive, commandingOriko as she demands my attention. “You can struggle. You can try to avoid your fate. You can fight me…

“Or you can fall.”

And then, achingly slowly, agonizingly so, as Kirika stops licking my labia and breathes scorching breath over my dripping sex, Oriko takes my head and gets it in front of her right nipple.

Then… she waits.

I… I open and close my mouth, not even knowing what I’m trying to do, what I’m supposed to do, but she’s in front of me, and her flesh is standing up, almost pointing at me as her skin beads with that same sweat I’m now drenched with under the remaining pieces of my armor.

I try to look into her eyes, try to get a hint at what she expects me to do, what she wants me to do, but I… I…

I open my mouth and push my tongue out as far as it can go.

When I fail to reach her, I almost sob.

Then she turns my head up and looks into my eyes with her teal ones, a warm smile on pale lips shimmering with silver.

“It’s OK. It’s OK. You’ve done well,” she says.

And then she pulls me to her chest, and my lips are around her nipple, greedily sucking on it, my tongue twirling around the round, stiff flesh as my moans vibrate both my lips and what they are surrounding.

I think I can’t take anymore, that this is as much as I can process, the height of pleasure, of ecstasy, of agony.

Kirika proves me wrong.

“Ah! Ah, Kirika! Oriko!” I yell, regret filling me as soon as I realize I’m not kissing the perfect breasts in front of me, but Kirika is licking me, her tongue finally inside of my body, reaching deep inside of me, as far as that rough patch of skin that they both delight in teasing when I’m beneath them and their hands, be it human or monster, roam my body unimpeded.

Kirika’s breath is hot, scorching, and it makes my clitoris stand even higher as she keeps her lips stuck on my lower ones, lapping up every drop of my honey, burning me with every exhalation, soothing me with each inhalation.

And all this, I try to transmit to Oriko with a tongue that’s not supernaturally dexterous, with a breath that does nothing to her wet breasts other than what a regular lover would give her.

I… I’m just strong.

So I suck.

Oriko gasps, both her hands burying clawed fingers in my hair, almost scratching me as she pulls me harder against her chest, as she buries me in soft flesh perfectly molded to my face.

Kirika’s tongue reaches deeper inside of me, past my most sensitive spot, before she drags it back, licking at me hard enough I can feel my inner folds trying to follow her motion.

My toes curl, my gauntlets creak, and the entire web sticking to my armor quakes as I feel the crashing waves of—

And they stop.

“Not… not yet,” Oriko says, once more looking down at my tilted face, the teal no longer cruel even if her actions and Kirika’s are almost enough to make me cry.

She… Kirika is softly kissing my inner thighs, her padded hands caressing my behind, soothing the lines her claws left on me, the scratches almost enough to break my skin yet stopping before doing so, just leaving eight trails of fire on me to remind me of her possessive grasp.

“I… Oriko, I…” I try to tell her.

And she lifts me to kiss my lips. Just my lips, a caress more than a heated exchange, more tender than sensual.

Even if everything is sensual to my body. Even if the venom of her fangs is coursing through me, maddening me with every beat of my heart, seeping into my mind as it overwrites every thought with heat, and yearning, and an aching emptiness that I know only two people in the entire world will ever fill.

“Patience, knight. It’s a virtue, you know?” she says with a soft smile that almost breaks me.

“I… I can’t… Ah!”

“You can, Komaki; I believe in you!” Kirika’s enthusiastic voice says from behind my head.

It may have been more reassuring if she hadn’t just poked at my entrance with her… member.

Oriko shoots her an exasperated look over me, and then…

Then she lowers me.

For a moment, I expect to see the veils part with her rising erection, and I wet my lips as I think about Oriko thrusting between them, blocking my throat until sparks shoot over the darkening edges of my vision, but…

But then her scent hits me.

Oriko’s scent, the piquant note of her arousal, growing stronger as she gets me nearer and nearer to her… to her pussy.

Her nails cut through two bands of gossamer, and the fabric slowly falls down before I see her in front of me. She is wet, as much as I feel I am, her juices making the inside of her thighs glisten, the sparse covering of golden hair above her labia darkened in wetness and stuck to her pale skin.

And the smell…

My mouth is no longer dry. It waters as she inebriates me, as my pulse pounds against my temples harder than Kirika’s member beats against my entrance.

Then… Then those fingers that end in cruelly sharp nails, that I don’t call claws just because of how painfully human their slender shapes and gestures are, that always fascinate me when I see her weaving another of her projects, another of her gifts to Kirika and me, and…

The cooling touch of her chitin gloves on my scalp brings me back to the moment, away from tender, treasured memories, and back to the caresses of the present as Oriko runs her beautiful fingers through my tresses, her nails never even coming close to scratching me, to harming me.

She tilts me back one last time, teal eyes smiling down at me, and then she pulls me toward her, the scent of her arousal filling my chest.

And Kirika pushes inside of me.

I scream in overwhelming release, and Oriko places my open lips over her sex, maneuvering me so I instinctively clamp my lips over her clitoris as Kirika rolls her hips, slowly making her way inside my body as her claws slice through the leather straps of my chest plate and the bodysuit below, the skin of my breasts briefly meeting cool air before she dives forward to lick them, to suck on them, to drag her tongue around them, always nearing my nipples without ever reaching them.

I scream in pleasure and frustration, and the vibration of it makes Oriko shiver.

Then Kirika’s claws grab the sides of my hips, steadying me on the elastic web, and she pushes, her penis sliding deep inside me, as far as it can go as my jaw slackens and my eyes widen, Oriko’s pale belly filling everything I can see as Kirika fills me.

I… I gasp, my arms yet again struggling, once more pulling at my bonds, straining threads stronger than steel, stronger than anything humanity can weave.

Then Kirika shifts, her bare breasts pressing on mine as she bites down on my left shoulder and her hips pull slightly back, and my strength flees me as the web pulls me back, denying me the few inches I had managed to advance.

Against Oriko’s wet, hot sex, I moan. Out of pleasure, in defeat, or begging for more… I can no longer tell.

She… She tilts me back once more, the back of my head cradled in her gentle palm as the thumb of her right hand goes over my cheekbone, wiping away what it takes me too long to recognize as a tear.

“You are mine,” she whispers. “Ours.”

I… I want to nod, because if I have to speak, something will break, and Kirika’s undulating motions inside of me are forcing me to bite my lip, to almost shut my eyes away from Oriko’s tender gaze.

She lifts me up.

Licks my chin clean, wiping any traces of her sex and my own saliva even as the girl behind us keeps trying to make me drool.

Oriko kisses my lips, just… just a brief touch, even as she repeats it over and over, her flushed cheeks signaling to me I am not the only one losing her mind with her every repetition.

Then she stops, close enough that I can lick her, that I can try to get a taste of her silvery, glinting—

“Ours. And nobody can take you away,” she says before she hugs me between her breasts.

My cheeks are surrounded by soft flesh, and Kirika is moving in front of my body, her soft curves gliding over my own, her toned belly sliding against mine as she pushes deep inside of me and grinds against my clitoris, making me scream against Oriko’s flesh.

She pulls me down, rubbing my face against her own softer belly until I’m once more faced with glistening lips and thighs, until her scent drives me mad, Kirika doing her best to break whatever remains of my self-control, whatever last shred of reason is letting me not beg them for… for mercy, or more, or whatever they want to do to me as long as they do it together.

Then she pulls me against her clitoris, and I latch on it, suckling on it as if I want to drink of her, as if desperate to swallow anything Oriko’s, to make her a part of me.

She gasps, once more tightening her fingers on my scalp without ever hurting me, yet she manages to control my movements, to twist and press just so I reach the precise angle she wants even as I increase the pressure pulling on her, sucking as hard as my supernatural strength allows me, prodding at her with my tongue with no less intensity than Kirika would.

Her grasp on me spasms, and Kirika speeds up, her hips now moving in and out of me almost entirely on each repetition, her hard flesh slapping down on mine, hard enough I can imagine my belly reddening after every repeated, blissful impact.

I clench around her. Around Kirika’s member.

I… I beat around her.

It feels like she’s fucking my heart.

Because every impact surges upward, every resounding meeting of our flesh magnified by traveling echoes that only seem to stop when they reach her teeth holding my bare shoulder in place, her animal instincts wanting to keep me still as she ruts me.

She told me once. How she’s a bit ashamed of it. How she’s never experienced it when fighting a phantom, just… Just with Oriko.

And me.

I… I no longer think it’s the venom that’s driving me mad.

I bare my neck to her, wishing I could see her eyes burning with desire for me, wishing I could watch as she loses her entire self, letting the animal brush her aside as their desire for me consumes both of them.

She fucks me, harder and harder.

Oriko’s fingers tighten on me, her arms wracked by the shudders coming out of a chest I can vividly imagine quivering between chitinous gloves reaching up to her shoulders.

And I…

I want them.

I want them both.

So much.

I want them badly enough that I pull, that I strain against bonds no mortal could ever break, that I feel my arms and legs shake with my strength as it surges higher than ever before, as my heart beats sheer might into them.

I hear stone crack, and a dusting of it falls down on Kirika and me as a thread of spider silk slams against the opposite wall with cracked rubble on its end. Or so I imagine, going by the sounds of it.

Oriko doesn’t let me go, she keeps pressing against me even as we both fall down, her spider legs buckling as I come to rest on the cool marble floor as she rides my face far more conventionally than a moment ago, and Kirika keeps pounding inside of me, keeps fucking me, shooting lightning through my nerves as her teeth tighten their hold on me and her ecstasy nears.

And I…

I struggle.

Harder.

I pull. Pull against my bonds, against everything holding me still, keeping me from acting, from doing what I want, from reaching my—

The web is harder than steel.

So is my armor.

But maybe not its straps.

Metal crumbles, changing its shape before enchanted leather tears apart, and my limbs burst free.

Then…

Then I’m no longer bound.

And so I grab Kirika’s ass as she wraps her thighs around me, her member still pulsing deep inside of my body, and I take four shuddering steps forward before I gently lay her down on cool marble.

Her head is beside mine, and our eyes meet just as I start riding her, as I take everything she has inside of me, and I reach forward to grasp Oriko’s breasts, my hands sinking into the soft flesh before I pull them back to twirl her nipples between thumbs and forefingers as I stare straight into the golden, blazing eyes of my other lover, Kirika smiling a silly smile at me before her hands grab my hips and she thrusts up.

I moan against Oriko’s sex, vibrating my lips over her clitoris, and she spasms, leaning forward to kiss me over the top of my own breasts even as I tighten my hold on hers.

Then Kirika pulls me down, harder than she has up till now, and she closes her eyes as she howls in that way that makes me shiver like I never thought I would after gaining magical strength, but that’s OK, because it’s Kirika, and it’s safe to fear her, to be in her arms, to have her claws wrapped around my body, to have her spear me open again, and again, and again—

And she bursts inside of me, white-hot liquid fire slamming against my insides, making me scream against Oriko as she lets go of my head and wails against my chest.

My lover is shaking in ecstasy above me. My other lover is howling in pleasure below me.

And I…

Break.

I can feel my mind opening, letting them both in, letting their climax become mine as waves of sheer sensation erase everything except a blonde and a brunette shivering and shaking around me.

It’s… It’s just my first orgasm of the day.

Because the venom rushes through my veins, whatever trick Oriko has instilled in it this time pulling me along as Kirika’s cock throbs once more inside of me, another spurt of her semen filling me and shattering me.

I scream into Oriko’s flesh.

And that’s the last thing I can remember.

***

We are in bed, all three of us sweaty and matting Oriko’s white silk sheets as our human bodies do… human things.

Like gasp in exhaustion.

For instance.

“I… I thought you were just pent up,” I tell Oriko almost fearfully as she keeps trailing her fingers down my hair, forcing me to rest my cheek on her bare breast.

… Right, ‘forcing’ may not be the proper word for this.

“I was. You know how my magic constantly drains me,” she says, almost airily.

I manage to lift my gaze and raise an accusing eyebrow at her.

She still has the gall to pretend she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

“Oriko… Your magic, your divination magic, constantly drains you, and that’s why you needed me to skip classes and come here to have sex with you. Is that your version of recent events?”

“Yeees?” she answers, a nervous tilt in her smile.

Kirika, resting on the breast in front of me, snorts.

“You do realize you confessed you planned our whole fight, down to the moment where Kirika’s flames dramatically revealed the thread tying my wrist up?”

“Ah…” She’s blushing.

… Unfair.

“Oriko, what—”

“I experimented with my venom,” she says as if that was explanation enough.

I raise my eyebrow yet again, and she writhes below us.

“I mean…” she hesitates. “You know it can be mind-altering?”

“You don’t say.”

“Right. Right, you do know. Well, I’ve been experimenting with trying to enhance my visions, and… I saw something.”

“Something?” I ask with mounting alarm.

“No! No, don’t… don’t worry about it. It’s not… It doesn’t have anything to do with us, I promise. I won’t let it have anything to do with us…”

“You aren’t making this any less alarming,” I tell her.

Teal eyes stare at me in hurt and panic.

Then she closes them.

“I saw… I saw another world. A different one, with different rules. And I saw you… hurt,” she says.

She’s not lying.

But… But Oriko, the easily flustered girl I’ve learned to love after getting past her composed façade, after finding the person behind the idol… I know her.

And she’s not lying.

But she isn’t telling the truth.

Kirika is uncharacteristically silent as she reaches forward, over Oriko’s belly, and clasps my hand strongly enough that I almost wonder if she’s letting the monster out.

Her golden eyes are… open. Wide. Vulnerable.

Afraid.

And I look over her shoulder at Oriko’s bedside table, where three soul gems lie, encased in elaborate, protective silk lace that shimmers with pale moonlight, each glint of light bouncing off painfully detailed needlework that I know took days to knit.

I close my eyes, not fleeing Kirika’s, but reaching in, looking for the Komaki that has overcome so much more than I ever thought possible.

Then I open them, and I turn my head aside the barest amount, my cheek sliding over Oriko’s breast before I lie a single kiss on top of the soft flesh. Then I push forward and kiss Kirika’s forehead as her eyes widen in… something utterly Kirika, I think.

Then I smile at the scared girl in front of me and at the anxious woman looking down on both of us.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m here.” I take a deep breath, my eyes closing yet again before I force them open with determination I’d never have found without them guiding me along the way. “Here. With you,” I finish.

Kirika hugs the two of us, and Oriko’s fingers press harder against my scalp.

Then… Then we allow ourselves to relax, my eyes drift closed and…

And resting atop my lover, embraced by my other one, I peacefully drift off to sleep.