An End, Some Means, and a Deranged Lesbian – Epilogue – The Girl Who Didn’t Die

I’ve never been to a love hotel in my entire life.

“Relax, Komaki!” the girl—Kirika says as she slaps my shoulder with entirely too much familiarity. “It’s not like Oriko’s gonna eat you! Well, she may, but you know, in the fun way!”

My cheeks are burning.

“I’m not here to do—to do… that,” I protest, staring at the numbers going up on the elevator and refusing to look at the short-haired girl wearing an infuriating grin on her face.

“Sure, sure,” she says while balancing on the heels of her masculine shoes, the airy dismissal patently clear in her—

Oh. We’ve reached our floor.

…

I’m pretty sure I can blow a hole through the side of the building and jump to safety before she can react.

I think.

Stupid time-distortion magic…

“Come on! We don’t want to be late!” said time-manipulator cheerfully exclaims as she takes the sleeve of my brown leather jacket and starts dragging me to room number 415.

“I only wanted to talk to Oriko!” I say, my boots almost skidding on the green carpet of the corridor as white doors pass us by.

“Well, nobody said you can’t do that!” she cheerfully replies in a way I’m quickly growing to hate.

“About her being a magical girl! And not telling me!”

“Ah, so you want to see her transformed? Kinky!”

“That’s not iiiiiiiit!”

She shrugs carelessly with the arm that doesn’t have an iron grip on me and pulls a keycard out of the pocket of her black blazer.

And then opens room number 415, and—

“Oh, Kirika,” a low voice purrs as the door creaks, “I’ve been waiting for—what the Hell?!”

Oriko Mikuni is spread on top of a big, round bed with a velvet, crimson comforter that does nothing but highlight the absolutely gorgeous lingerie she’s wearing.

White, rose-patterned lace on top of silk stockings held by a garter belt with white panties over the elastic bands, and then… a full corset that takes her always impressive bust and pushes it up and—

I thought my cheeks were burning.

Apparently, I had a lot to learn.

“Surprise, Oriko!” Kirika yells from behind me at her usual volume.

And then she picks me up and throws me on top of my—of my classmate.

Oriko blinks up at me.

I try to close my mouth.

And then she frowns.

“Kirika... what were you—why are you getting undressed?!”

Wait, what?

I turn just in time to hear the door close with a finality I find anything but reassuring, and I see the other girl jumping up and down as she slides her black pants off one leg at a time, the manic gymnast only stopping to shoot us a grin that may have been contagious in other circumstances.

“Oh? Sorry, did you want a show?”

“Of course—I mean, no! Komaki! Komaki’s here!”

“Well, duh, I brought her myself,” she comments as she unbuttons the blazer with satin lapels, her black, lace panties peeking below—why am I still staring?!

Ah, Oriko may have realized my dilemma. I mean, that’s one way to explain why she’s suddenly covering my eyes.

And I’d rather not question why she did that when I stared at Kirika and not while I was gaping at her in what seems to be bridal lingerie.

Yeah. No reason at all to contemplate that particular conundrum.

And even less reason to ponder what exactly it is that I’m pressing against while my body lies on top of hers…

“She’s gonna get a nosebleed,” the black terror cheerfully points out.

“Am not,” I defend my honor.

“Those aren’t real, Kirika,” Oriko patiently yet with evident frustration elaborates.

“Uh? Of course they are! My nose keeps bleeding all the time!”

“Because you keep taking punches! Not because you get excited!” the girl below me indignantly yells without taking her hand off my eyes.

“Oh, right. I mean, when I see you like this, all the blood goes to one place,” the other girl answers.

And Oriko… fidgets and lets out a short, low moan?

What?

One hand grabs my hair behind my nape, and Oriko’s hands are taken away.

And then I see… it.

“What the Hell?!” I ask with what I feel is the appropriate decorum for the situation.

Oriko’s blushing while her eyes get fixed at a point straight between our faces, and Kirika’s giggling, something that makes said point gently sway from side to side in a way nothing that looks like that should ever do.

Because the last word I would think to associate with the throbbing, dark, veiny erection is ‘gentle.’

“Surprise!” the girl holding my head right above her penis exclaims.

“Just how many surprises are you planning on for today!” I can’t help but answer.

“Well… Dunno. I’m kinda playing it by ear.”

“Kirika… While I’m sure you had the best intentions in mind when dragging Komaki in here, I’m afraid I’m currently failing at gleaning what those may be,” Oriko says with her usual high-class tone that, from now on, I will always associate to her eyes being glued to the clear drop of precum slowly sliding down Kirika’s cock’s slit.

Nothing’s sacred anymore.

“Oh! That one’s easy! She’s a fellow Oriko-worshipper, and I know you’d like to make things up to her,” she replies.

Wait, what?

Apparently, I’m not the only one surprised by the declaration because Oriko goes rigid below me, and she manages to stop staring at Kirika’s… appendage long enough to look into my eyes with clear panic.

“Make things up to me?” I ask.

And she hugs me and drags me down to her in a way I may have appreciated a lot more if it didn’t make me headbutt Kirika’s penis on the way down.

It seems Oriko Mikuni is inscrutable as ever. Just as expected.

***

I’m lying in bed, sandwiched between two very pretty and attractive, half-naked girls.

This should be a much happier occasion, really.

“Are you making all of this up?” I ask them once more.

Kirika grunts in annoyance from my left, her quota for non-related-to-Oriko attention span having been exhausted a while ago.

Which is kind of offensive coming from my murderer.

“I wish we were. But… I’m sorry; we can’t offer any proof about the past world unless you count Homura Akemi’s and Madoka Kaname’s corroborating testimony.”

“The other two girls you tried to murder.”

“I didn’t try to murder you!” Kirika protests. “I succeeded!”

I elbow her ribs. Repeatedly.

“She means it was an accident,” Oriko clarifies, “and that she was in tears when she came back from your fight. She was devastated.”

“Was not,” Kirika harrumphs.

And I give her a noogie until she slaps my hand away while hissing in pain.

This is very relaxing. I should try it more often.

“She most definitely was,” Oriko states, and Kirika deflates. “And… so was I. I never expected you to find one another, much less for you to…” she pauses. Trails off.

And starts crying.

Disconsolately, completely broken down, the tears messing up makeup so artful I didn’t realize she was wearing it, her mascara running off as her body shakes.

And I… I hug her.

I hold her to my chest and I cradle Oriko’s face over my green, leaf-patterned sundress, her tainted tears staining the thin fabric and reaching my breasts below it as I caress hair I’ve admired far too many times as she passed by, her retreating back on the school’s corridor engraved in my mind in a way I’ll never be able to erase.

Unlike how they erased my death.

Because, even if I am to believe their crazy, deranged story… They brought me back.

So, what’s the appropriate punishment for a crime that never happened, that was never meant to happen, and that forever scarred the ones who never carried it out?

And why’s Kirika spooning me?

“You love her, don’t you?” she whispers in my ear.

My hand pauses in her long, careful strokes over Oriko’s blonde hair, and my back goes rigid.

“It’s all right. She deserves it. She deserves to be loved like no one else. She deserves all that you can give her, all that you want to give her, all that we can give her…”

Her whisper trails off, and I feel her erection slide beneath the skirt of my dress, between my legs.

And I feel it grow.

Harder, longer, beating between my thighs until it pokes out from the other side and reaches Oriko’s body, until the insistent beating gets to be enough that the girl in my arms raises a surprised face from my bust and looks at me and Kirika holding me.

And Kirika throbs.

And I moan.

Not quite like Oriko. I don’t feel as needy, as obviously taken with her lover, but I still… I still feel good.

Kirika’s hands go from my sides to Oriko’s body, and I see them crawling over her hips until slender fingers sink into a backside I’ve always tried not to stare at. And then Kirika pulls, her body flattening against my back in a way that warms me even through the brown leather, and Oriko’s mashed against me, the stiff bones of the corset the most noticeable barrier between our breasts.

“Kirika…?” she starts to ask, uncertainty still trembling with the tears she’d been shedding over a death that never happened.

“She wants you, Oriko. And you wanted her even before,” the dark whisper comes from behind me and makes me shudder, the motion traveling down to my thighs and rubbing the two of us together in a way I never expected I would feel pleasant at all.

But I do.

I really, really do.

And then, without another word, Kirika pulls Oriko’s thigh over the both of us, and I’m surrounded by them, and—

And Kirika slides Oriko’s panties aside and, with a sawing motion that I feel rubbing across my own underwear, sticks her dick inside Oriko.

And her face…

Oriko’s face as she’s slowly filled, as I feel every inch Kirika feeds inside her rub along my sex on the way to the girl I maysometimes admit I have, kinda, maybe, been crushing on since our first year…

I should be outraged. Sad, maybe.

I… I’m definitely neither of those two things. No, in fact, I’m really, really—

“She’s so wet, Oriko,” Kirika whispers, a sound far darker and more insidious than whenever she carelessly yells with no regard for any kind of ‘indoor voice.’ A sound that makes me clench. “She’s getting so horny, watching you get fucked, having you pant against her like a whore as I spread you open and rub between another girl’s thighs… You like it, don’t you, Oriko? You like being seen and judged by little Komaki here.”

I’m not judging!

Well, maybe a little…

That’s a very spectacularly slutty face, after all…

And Oriko’s staring at me.

Her mouth is open, her eyes wide, the aquamarine gleaming in the low light of this room, and the mascara is streaked by her tears and…

And a delicate, slender, graceful hand I may have fantasized about being my own during some lonely nights reaches up to me, the very tips of her fingers brushing across my cheek in lines of slow lightning as she finally cups my face, never breaking eye contact as she grows nearer, and my whole world is Oriko looking at me, and I…

Her lips brush against mine in a caress so soft I fear I imagined it, that it’s no more than a dream, another one in which I’ll wake up sweaty, between tangled sheets, and hating myself.

And then Kirika suddenly pushes from behind me, her… her membersliding right against my clitoris right before she slams my body against Oriko’s and our mouths meet once again in a harsher kiss.

And I… I can’t help myself.

My hands travel across Oriko’s mostly naked back until I find the first pearly button at the back of her corset and I pull it open just so I can slide my hands between it and smooth, giving skin that makes me clench my thighs around Kirika’s cock as I bite my lip and my face contorts in what may seem like suffering—partly because it is.

Because this is intense. More than I ever imagined, more than I ever hoped. More than I ever wished.

And it’s… real.

As much as I don’t feel like it should be.

“See, Oriko? It’s all right. She loves you. She still loves you, never stopped loving you,” Kirika keeps whispering, saying words I would never be ready to say on my own.

And I…

I don’t deny her.

And something sparks in Oriko’s eyes before she leans forward once more to give me my third kiss as Kirika starts moving once more, the friction that makes me want to curl my back even though I’m trapped between them nothing compared to what Oriko must be feeling.

And Oriko’s lips… They take mine. They brush, and kiss, and pull, and suck and bite, until I moan in sweet surrender, and she has her tongue invade and conquer me.

She twirls it around mine, her movements carrying a surety I know can only come from experience, but a part of me thinks it’s just because it’s Oriko. Because she could never be anything other than sure and certain of everything, even as I see her barely holding on as Kirika keeps thrusting in and out of her and through me.

I don’t even realize it when I finally undo her corset.

The fabric slackens, but it’s still between us, still holding her breasts up, and…

And Oriko pulls her lips away from mine, her tongue leaving behind a tingling trail that demands to be explored by her once again until she grabs the back of my head and pushes, and I…

My face is buried in her cleavage, the softest flesh I’ve ever touched surrounding me, and I feel myself faint.

“She likes it when you kiss them,” Kirika whispers once more, but this time it’s right in my ear, a whisper only for me, an invitation Oriko doesn’t know about.

My legs tighten around her cock, and Kirika moans, her mouth still right above my ear.

And something in my chest clenches.

So I begin kissing and suckling at pale flesh, at smooth skin, at round, soft, Oriko.

She takes the corset away, and I’m faced with pale, pink, stiffnipples.

I dive for them, one hand leaving Oriko’s back to twirl one of them between thumb and forefinger like I always thought she would do to me when I allowed myself to think about ‘always’ and ‘forever.’

When I allowed myself to dream I had a future beyond battle, and lonely nights, and unrequited feelings, and—

She grabs my cheeks once more right as I lick her nipple, and I’m afraid I’ve crossed a line, that I’ve ruined it all as she forces me back up to look into gleaming aquamarine that shines with light I always wanted to wake up next to.

“I never told you what my magic is,” she says, and Kirika stops moving.

I blink at her in confusion, my body yearning to continue, my mind too muddled to do anything but stare.

“I can see the future,” she continues. “I can see tragedy before it happens.” She looks at me, drawing out the moment until my eyes focus back on her and a gentle smile replaces the stern look she was giving me. “Before it becomes inevitable. I can make sure you never fall again. I can make sure you have a future, Komaki.”

I blink at her, unsure what she actually means—

“With us,” Kirika explains with a tone that clearly implies an eye-roll. “She means she can make sure you have a future with us, so you can stop worrying and just enjoy being in bed with the girl you love and her girlfriend.”

I blink, start turning around—

“Must you be so brash?” Oriko chides her.

“Must you drag things out so much? She loves you, you at least like her, and I’m always happy at anything that makes you happy. It’s not that complicated,” Kirika says with a shrug.

A shrug that makes her shift on the bed and inadvertently has her cock go back across my very wet panties and out of Oriko till we both moan in tandem.

“Don’t worry, Komaki, you’ll get used to it. Oriko just gets a bit dramatic when we’re in bed,” the girl rubbing her cock between my thighs reassures me.

Not quite effectively, I should add.

“Says the girl who tried to murder me before our first time… “ Oriko mutters.

“That was one time! You’re the one who decided to remake the world just so I could get you pregnant!”

“Wait, you what?” I finally interject.

Oriko blushes, and Kirika freezes.

“It’s… complicated,” the girl who just promised to keep me safe forever says. Because that’s not complicated. At all. Of course.

My eyebrow raises of its own accord, and I decide that, rather than suppress it, I should encourage it.

Go on, Mr. Eyebrow. Together, we shall make the curvy blonde realize how utterly baffling she is.

“I… Look, could we talk about this when I’m not being filled with Kirika’s cock? It’s kind of… distracting,” she bashfully pleads.

And my other eyebrow raises to meet its sister.

Fine, you want distracting, Oriko? Just so you can avoid explaining to me precisely what kind of mess I’ve just walked into?

I’ll give you distracting.

I grab her cheeks and pull her to me, kissing her once more. And my tongue is certainly less experienced, and I don’t know what I’m doing, and she’s the sexiest girl alive, but I’ve been dreaming about this since I first saw her.

And I think I’ve got a pretty good imagination.

So I drive my tongue past her lips, reaching out toward her until she relaxes between my hands, and then I twist my body, and Kirika grunts as she’s forced to turn with me so Oriko’s beneath the two of us, and Kirika’s soft… everything is pressing down on me.

“I hate you,” I tell a very glassy-eyed Oriko. “I’ve always hated you. I hated how you strutted around like every single one of us was below your grace and beauty. I hated how you never paid any mind to rumors you could crush with a single of your steely glances. I hated how you were so friendly and polite to me. I hated how you stayed polite even as I tried to rib you, to get you to react with anything other than a cunning smile and some light banter. I hated how you made me feel. I hated how much I came to love you, and how quickly I did it. I hate you, so, so much I’ll need a lifetime to properly tell you.”

She stares. Just stares. Oriko Mikuni, for the first time in her life, has been caught off guard by me, by the peasant-like Komaki Asako who could never stand at her side.

“Does… Does that mean—” she starts to ask with hope so bright in her eyes it makes my chest hurt.

So I interrupt her.

“Kirika, fuck her into the mattress,” I say.

Oriko’s eyes widen, and someone who rarely stops fidgeting goes completely still behind me.

“Yes, ma’am!” the hyper-bouncy girl yells, once more at her natural volume.

“Wait, don’t—” Oriko starts to protest.

Right before a lightning bolt shoots through me from where my sex is pressing down on the blonde as the brunette drives herself across me and into her so hard all three of us bounce.

Oriko’s mouth gapes open, and her eyes widen, and her breasts spring up right below me, and I…

I’m wearing too many clothes.

It takes some effort to do with Kirika’s non-stop pounding brushing against me, but I manage to take off my jacket, my sundress now sticking to me with all the sweat I didn’t realize three bodies in motion could get me to make, and I…

I look below me, at Oriko not missing the way my body shifts and pushes my own breasts out when I finally shrug off my jacket even though Kirika’s still fucking her as hard as she can, and seeing her… admire me… it does… things to me.

So I force myself to get out from between them, never breaking eye contact, never letting her even suspect this could be over, and I stand on the unsteady, round mattress that keeps shaking with the girl obviously abusing her magic by going at it as hard as she can, her member visibly shortening now that it’s devoted to a single person and does not have to pass between my thighs to reach our… Our Oriko.

So I straddle her, my… my drenched panties right above her face as I pull off my green sundress even as it tries to stick to my sweaty skin, and then my navy blue sports bra is revealed, and I get the incredibly satisfying feeling of seeing Oriko’s eyes go straight to my breasts. They aren’t as big as hers, but—

Kirika just slapped my ass.

I look over my shoulder in incredulity and see her looking up at me with a disturbingly wide grin as she keeps going in and out of Oriko… and giving me a thumbs-up.

“Nice! Rock her world, girl!” she says with such enthusiasm it’s hard to reconcile it with what she’s actually doing to the girl whose world I’m supposed to rock.

…

Challenge accepted.

I cup my breasts, holding them even higher than the stretchy fabric usually does, and I bend straight down, my face almost touching Oriko’s as I point my overflowing cleavage at her and my blue hair drapes down around us.

And I get the very satisfying sensation of her mouth repeatedly closing for a moment as Kirika keeps forcing her to open it.

“Do you like them?” I whisper, taking some inspiration from the brunette behind me. “Are you imagining these are your hands, touching them, grabbing them, teasing them? Because I did. I imagined it was you touching me, that it was you driving me insane with soft touches becoming rougher as my panties got drenched, that it was you making my mind go blank when I howled out your name. I imagined it was you making me come every night since I met you, Oriko.”

She stares at me, her eyes as wide as they can go, and I can see her mouthing the syllables of my name.

I don’t think I can get any wetter.

So I stand back up, looking at those wide eyes of hers all the way as I brush my hair back behind my shoulders, and then I shrug out of my bra and throw it to a corner of the dimly lit room with a soft noise that tells me it landed on the carpet. And then I grab my right breast and push it up as I crane my neck down until I lick my nipple precisely in the very same way I licked Oriko’s a moment earlier.

“Fuck!” Kirika yells from below my thighs, her short hair wildly bouncing and going in and out of my field of view about as quickly as she must be going in and out of Oriko. “She’s coming!”

And I see it.

I see a blush that spreads down her neck, over the top of her pale breasts, her jaw clenched shut, and her eyes rolling back.

And I go from seeing to staring, not missing a single second of it.

She takes a moment, the mattress no longer shaking as Kirika also slows down.

And I take advantage of the reprieve to roll my panties down my legs, finally remembering I never got a chance to take off my boots.

…

It doesn’t matter.

I leave my suede boots on, and I straddle Oriko’s beautiful, messed-up face, the tear-streaked mascara even more obvious now that she’s so out of it.

And then, as soon as she opens her eyes, I drop my drenched panties on her face.

She flails her arms around for a moment, and I can’t hold back my laughter at her panicked reaction, Kirika joining me in our very vocal amusement, and then…

Then I turn around so I’m facing the brunette and sit on Oriko’s face.

And then hold myself very still as she immediately starts eating me out with far more adroitness than I expected—

“It’s a trick she has,” Kirika tells me, not quite hyper but still grinning up at me from where she’s leaning on her elbows above Oriko’s body, her face far closer to my sex than I expected. “She can use her magic to see the future, right? To see what something will end up causing? So, if she’s really motivated, she’ll use it to see how I—well, you, in this case—will react. It’s frankly unfair.”

I bite my lip and nod. It is. It really, really is.

“So… want to level the playing field?” Kirika asks with a knowing grin and a bobbing eyebrow.

Without words, because Oriko’s tongue twirling around my clitoris every time she isn’t kissing it is kinda depriving me of them, I nod.

Kirika’s grin widens, and she leans back, going out of Oriko with an audible noise that I would find gross under almost any other circumstance, and she grabs the blonde’s hips just as she starts letting out a pitiful noise that makes the small hairs behind my neck stand straight.

And then Kirika swings Oriko around, forcing me to regain enough control to pivot around her head to keep her mouth on me. Then Oriko’s legs are hanging down the edge of the bed, and Kirika’s standing between them, looking at me, and…

With a single, slow thrust, Kirika sheathes herself back inside Oriko.

And she doesn’t look away from my eyes for a moment.

I lean forward. I don’t know why, but I lean forward.

And Kirika, the girl slowly fucking the girl I’ve been in love with for far too long, does the same.

Our lips are almost touching, her scalding breath making me both want to pull away and dive forward, straight to the source of the heat.

“I brought you here because you love her,” she tells me, uncharacteristically serious.

I pause for a moment until Oriko sucks on me hard enough that I clench my eyes shut. When I open them, there’s golden amber in front of me. Kirika. Kirika, who’s every bit as beautiful as I thought the first time I saw her sailing through the air as we both ended up chasing the same wraith and sharing our spoils with Kyuubey.

“Thank you,” I finally tell her.

Her hands go from Oriko’s waist to my hair, and she pulls me into a kiss that is seared with the source of that heat I both feared and yearned for.

“That’s not why I want you to stay,” she finally says when it seems as if our lips remain connected through wetness and surging heat.

I blink, uncomprehending, confused, and not at all helped by Oriko redoubling her efforts in bringing me over the edge as Kirika resumes her movements, as the blonde’s body shakes below me hard enough that I see the ripples traveling up her bouncing breasts, that I feel those very same movements shaking mine, and I look at Kirika closing her eyes tightly as she pulls out of Oriko, her member pulsing and waving below and in front of me as Oriko goes rigid and shouts something inside me, and I—

I don’t know why. I don’t want to know why. Not yet.

But I dive forward and take Kirika into my mouth right as she starts shooting her sperm, the salty taste making me go cross-eyed right as Oriko gives my clitoris a last flick that makes me moan around my… my co-girlfriend’s cock.

And then my mind decides to let my body take the reins for a while, and I just remember my thighs twitching, my pussy clenching, and my throat swallowing.

I don’t know how long it takes, but when I open my eyes, I’m staring at a ceiling shadowed so I can’t discern its actual color.

To my left, a bouncy brunette has finally gone still, curled over my side.

To my right, luminous, vibrant aquamarine stares at me until I look back.

And then Oriko smiles, brushes a strand of hair out of my eye, and kisses the tip of my nose before nuzzling my breast and closing her eyes.

And, after a shorter moment than I would’ve guessed, I do the same.

***

This was a mistake. This was all a mistake.

“Come on, Komaki! You can’t say you love Oriko until you’ve taken all she can give you!”

I glare up at Kirika. Which may not be that effective, seeing as I’m currently on all fours and gagging on her stupidly thick cock.

And then I almost bite her as Oriko’s hips slap against my ass as she drives her magical ‘appendage’ precisely as deep inside me as my body can take her. Because magic is bullshit.

“See? She loves you so much, Komaki! She’s decided to make you cum your brains out just as much as she does when I—fuck!”

I manage to momentarily shut Kirika up, something that should be worth a medal in at least a small army, by throwing myself forward hard enough that I take her head past the ring of my throat, but my triumph is short-lived.

Because, right at the moment where I delight in doing the impossible, Oriko—likely guided by her also bullshit precognition—slaps my ass hard enough to make me quiver around her bullshit magical dick, and it’s all so fucking bullshit how good it all feels that I’m drooling around Kirika, and my pussy is begging for more, and I’m glad my mouth can’t do the same, and I—

Wait a second.

Oriko can’t get me pregnant, can she?

I look up at Kirika, trying to signal my alarm with my eyebrows, and she winks down at me right before she runs her fingers through my hair and starts fucking my face with the same rhythm as Oriko’s pounding my pussy.

…

That’s not reassuring!

Even if it feels so good!

Damn it, Oriko! Stop being so utterly perfect at everything!