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Puella Monstrum Madoka Moecha – Chapter 3 – Homura Gets Her Bearings
🕑 Added 2022-07-19 02:23:00 +0000 UTCOne of the first things I always do when I arrive at a new timeline is to hunt down any known witches that are weak enough not to pose too much of a threat. It gives me plenty of leeway when it comes to facing unforeseen crises later on, and it’s always a good way to gauge how my own abilities have grown—or haven’t, as the case often is.
It’s also a good first step to whatever plan I may be ruminating on. It lets me get my bearings, get back into a familiar rhythm and reorient myself in time while also not wasting any of it.
There’s no reason not to do that.
Except that there are no fucking witches here!
The abandoned antique doll store? Gone.
That part of the mall where young kids always disappear? Empty.
The old travel agency, closed down for years? It’s now a sex shop!
And there are no familiars to track, no reports of missing people that point to a consistent direction filed in the usual folder in the police station, no suicide cases around a particular building. Nothing! Just… just…
Just those perverted things floating around, wearing all too familiar guises!
Seriously, dropping by Mitakihara High to scout any unforeseen changes to the place now that I will be attending it rather than Mitakihara Middle School and just… just seeing naked Madokas lewdly engaging in despicable acts everywhere? That was…
…
All right, there were about six Mamis for every Madoka, and more Sayakas than Madokas, but I kept seeing flashes of pink hair only to turn around and see her happily floating around in a slutty cheerleader’s uniform, or nurse uniform, or middle school uniform, and she would be rubbing herself against a desk corner, or thrusting her fingers in and out of her—
Damn it!
Fine! It was tempting! It was alluring! But in the end, it just pissed me off!
So I shot them. Partly because they were defiling Madoka’s image, partly because I’m too frustrated to think straight, and partly because it just seemed like the thing to do.
I am a magical girl: I am supposed to kill otherworldly beings. Doubly so if they take the shape of a loved one.
So I killed about twenty of them, hoping for maybe something like a grief seed, but they just drop these pink, glowing crystals that are completely useless. I’ve tried mashing them against my soul gem, biting them, shooting them, and the things do nothing. They just keep glowing in their merry, pink way, at most showing a few cracks after a particularly well-placed shot, but they do nothing for my steadily dropping magic reserves, and I keep feeling this… this thing lurking inside me, held at bay only with my magic, and…
And I think I’m turning into a witch.
Because that’s what witches are, aren’t they? Twisted hopes, dreams, and desires finally overwhelming us, warping our shape to fit the worst of what we are inside…
And… my wish was to protect Madoka.
My witch self? It would still focus on that, on my only dream, my only hope, and it would make perfect sense for it to twist it into these constant urges, this craving to wrap my body around hers and squeeze as her soft curves molded to mine, this hunger to taste her lips, drive my tongue past them, and get drunk on the scent of her beaded sweat as she moans and calls out my name, shivering again and again beneath my touch, coming when I drive my fingers inside her, when I taste wet lips others than the ones with a cheerful, bright smile that I would forever turn into disheveled, loose, wanton indulgence as I keep her safe in my grasp as my body becomes Madoka’s prison, her whole world, her bindings…
…
Damn it!
Again.
I’ve fallen for it again, I’ve let the witch-self whisper in my mind, and it’s grown closer to the surface, and now I can feel the glittering, black scales beneath my pantyhose sliding against the smooth, elastic fabric. My legs, from my thighs to my toes, are entirely encased in them, in these things soft enough that they feel like textured silk under my fingers.
I need magic. I need magic before I allow it to come out, and then I hunt Madoka and push her down, leaning over her wide, startled eyes to sniff at the crook of her neck and lick up as she squeaks in startled pleasure, her fingers running through my hair—damn it!
Focus. Focus.
Mami will know what’s going on.
***
Mami’s useless!
Could she be more blatant?! Constantly ogling Sayaka and Madoka through her entire ‘lesson?’ Rambling about phantoms and how they manifest inner desires without telling them what those desires tend to be?
Squirming with her thighs clenched? Whimpering when Sayaka’s enhanced bust bounces like the energetic tomboy is jumping up and down on a hard—damn it!
So. Phantoms.
Phantoms rather than witches. Which means things are even more different than I expected, and the timeline has branched at least years before my arrival. So I need to find Kyuubey.
Fucking Kyuubey.
No! Not fucking Kyuubey! How would that even work—not thinking about this.
My witch-self is creepy. And gross.
So, so gross.
Still, the plan is to follow Sayaka and keep an eye on her from the rooftops, because if there’s one thing I can trust the tomboy on in every timeline is to be a damn lemming eager to sell her soul away to heal her stupid, doomed crush that never goes anywhere, even when I engineer things so that Hitomi becomes… undisposed.
…
It was just a few laxatives. No need to feel this guilty about it.
Still, the blue-haired girl is my best lead, and, seeing as she’s heading straight to the back alley behind the hospital, it seems my hunch was right. Now, let’s see if I can learn anything from this Kyuubey before I’m forced to interact with the creepy plushie.
***
That was… different.
I could feel the magic. I could feel it whirl around Sayaka, even from here, and it just wasn’t what it always is. There was… more to it, something like the scent of the sea when the waves are churning, and the breeze turns into wild wind.
Magic doesn’t do that. It just… is.
And my witch-self reacted to it. It liked the sound of rushing waters, even if it wanted them to be meandering rivers and still lakes. I just know it likes that better than the sea. It… even calmed a bit down, and the constant stream of images of a naked Madoka writhing while trapped in pleasure became the soothing sound of water between moss-covered stones, the glittering sun over shifting cascades that leave the air filled with misty droplets.
I let myself be carried away by the vivid images, and when I open my eyes, my hands and forearms are encased in the same black scales as my legs, and Sayaka’s already gone.
And Kyuubey is on the same gravelly rooftop as I am, curiously peering up at me, its head cocked to the side in a way I’d find endearing if it wasn’t Kyuubey.
“I don’t remember making a contract with you,” it says, the voice as childish as ever, even if the inflection is a bit flatter.
Damn it.
“My wish was… peculiar,” I say, the excuse one I worked out a long time ago, even if Kyuubey never asked for an explanation. Not before this.
“Ah. Memory erasure? No, that isn’t it; you wouldn’t be carrying around such a stack of Phantom Shards while your magic’s almost depleted if you knew how things work, so… dimension displacement? Reality hopping? Interesting. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a case like yours, and I’m… kind of old. But excuse me, this may seem terribly rude to you. My name’s Kyuubey; may I know who am I speaking to?”
…
This is weird.
“I am… Homura Akemi. Though I’ve already met you before,” come on, being a time traveler is supposed to be perfect for portraying myself as an inscrutable warrior who knows more than everyone else. I shouldn’t be the one off balance.
“I see! And you don’t seem to be fond of me, for whichever reason, which means… Oh, dear.” Kyuubey closes its red eyes and mutters a string of something too low for me to hear, but that, going from the uncharacteristically angry twist of its snout, isn’t very charitable. “Please, excuse me, I assume this mustn’t be a pleasant conversation to have, much less while so thoroughly distracted,” it says, pointedly looking at the glimmering, black claws now adorning my fingers after a mere moment’s distraction.
The witch is sneaky.
I hide my perturbed grimace behind my usual, stony expression, the one I wear not to beg Madoka whenever I meet her again, and sneer down at the thing that started it all.
“You would be right in your assumptions,” I tell it, the haughty tone one I’m not familiar with, but that somehow fits in the same way as the sounds of meandering waters and wind over swaying reeds do. “So these are the key to solving my current… issues?” I continue, proffering a few of the crystals from my shield that it can, somehow, see through.
“One of the ways, at the very least,” it confirms with a nod. “If you would be so kind as to hand them over?”
Loathe as I am to follow Kyuubey’s instructions at any time, the witch is getting more intrusive with every passing moment, so I lean down with the crystals in the palm of my right hand…
And Kyuubey nuzzles me before delicately nibbling on the pink, glowing, almost indestructible things.
…
At this point, I shouldn’t be surprised that it can eat bulletproof crystals.
And, honestly, I am not. Because I’m too busy being shocked at Kyuubey literally eating out of the palm of my hand, its soft fur not quite ticklish as its delicate tongue almost shyly peeks out to lick a crystal fragment off my hand as it keeps looking like a docile, affectionate pet.
…
I… I literally can’t even. Just… Can’t. Even.
What.
Seriously, when Kyyubey starts glowing with a pink light that washes over the rooftop in uneven rays, I’m still too shocked to react properly. That is: to punt it into the distance and shoot at the glowing target.
No, instead, I remain frozen as the light ripples down its body in waves of increasing intensity, and then as the body shifts, elongates, as its shape blurs, the fur bristling out in a wispy cloud that separates from the body in a sphere that spins as it blurs what happens inside, offering me only a vague silhouette of glowing shapes mingling and growing.
Then the cloud whirls, the fur threading, weaving itself into…
Into a white blouse, jacket, and miniskirt that seem to glow with moonlight as they drape around the shape of a slender girl still kneeling on the gravel and licking my hand.
A girl with white hair, a waving, fluffy tail protruding from her skirt, and a pair of very distinctive double-ears atop its head.
And, before I can yell the most heartfelt ‘What the fuck?!’ in human history, the radiant beams of pink converge on me, and I can feel them filling me up with a rush of sensation that makes me throw my head back, that makes me gasp as image after image of lustful yearnings rushes through my mind, barely distinctive if not for the common thread of Madoka being in them—naked, yearning, vulnerable.
The gasp turns into a moan, and my clawed hands rush up my cheeks, the contact of the gliding scales the tipping point to making my nipples hard, to have them poke against my blouse as I bite my lip when my fangs elongate into a more comfortable, fitting shape.
There’s a brief moment of panic as I think the witch has won, that it has taken me, that it will have me hunt down Madoka and coil around her to guard her from the world outside my embrace.
And, as if in answer to that panicked, guilty yearning, something unfolds from my back, something that I can use to cover Madoka’s whole body as my wings spread around me, wispy, black feathers raining down as they are bereft of their true purpose: caressing Madoka’s whole body with a warm, soft, tender prison.
My eyes flutter, and my hips flare. I am not voluptuous, not even in this older body that has more curves than I had before, but now my thighs thicken, and I can feel the shift rippling down them even as my body flows like a lazy stream hidden in a deep forest.
Then my legs widen further, and they touch, the scales parting, opening like black lips on the inside of my legs so that the bare skin beneath can kiss, rub against itself before the scales melt over them, encasing them in rippling black and melding them into a snake’s tail that begins somewhere below my mons, that flows down, slithering over the loose gravel beneath me, my new weight settling on it, carving a furrow of spiraling flesh over the world, the thicker, slate-grey scales on my ventral part gliding over stone I know I can crush between my coils, the valley shape of these bigger, flatter scales obscenely mirroring my own pelvis, my sex just slightly above where human skin gives way to a snake’s, letting a warm, wet, throbbing thigh gap meet the cold night’s air flowing through it.
My lips stretch into a satisfied, open smile, and my bifurcated tongue peeks out to lick at them, to tease their new sensibility with prodding, twin points of malleable, deft flesh, and then the last detail of my transformation comes out as the scales on my arms rush up until they almost reach my shoulders and a circle of long, flaring black feathers tops off what may as well be long gloves.
“Oh, interesting. A Melusine? Perhaps your wish had to do with hiding something from a loved one?” Kyuubey says with idle, offensive curiosity.
I look down at it—her. I look down at her, still kneeling in front of me, looking at me with lazy scarlet eyes peering through silver bangs, the pointed ears on top of her head perking up, and the ones falling down from them draped over a chest only slightly bigger than mine, though perfectly pushed up by her professionally cut jacket. Her short bob frames her roundish face, and her pale pink lips barely stand out from her almost albino skin, if not by a gloss that seems almost metallic.
She’s a beautiful girl, aloof and distant even in her apparently submissive stance.
But she looks at me askance, with those scarlet eyes of hers, and I see Kyuubey.
Kyuubey, kneeling before me, between two loops of my tail, her face right in front of my bare, wet pussy.
“Oh, dear,” she says.
And I coil around her.
Without tightening, just slowly gliding around her, reveling in the ease of fluid, rippling motion undulating down my entire body as loose gravel shifts beneath my weight. But that’s not the only pleasure I allow myself, and I take in the sight of her slight behind pushing out the glimmering fabric of her short skirt as she remains kneeling, only turning her head back to look into my eyes as I find myself yet again licking my lips at the enticing image of the monster turned young, beautiful girl.
A girl who’s beneath me.
Defenseless.
Mine.
So the coils grow closer as I curl around her, and I gasp when my scales meet the bare skin of her calves, then I have to repress a shiver as I glide over skirt-covered thighs, the white fabric as soft as Kyuubey’s fur always was.
Then I circle around her waist, and she’s yet again beneath me, almost pressed to my bare sex even as she looks up at me, and I have my tail keep circling her, wrapping her up in my body, in coils that can crush her at the first thing she says that offends me, that brings back any memories I don’t care for.
“You know, if I thought this would end up like this, I think I’d rather have had the quickie first and eaten the shards later. Not as much energy wasted that way,” she idly comments as I wrap her body entirely, lifting her up so she’s standing up, arms and legs pressed together between the prison that is my body.
And then what she just said registers.
“What?” I ask, blinking down, dumbfounded.
“Aren’t you going to ravage me?” she asks, her head slightly tilted, as if wondering if the bus is going to be much longer.
And…
Wait, am I going to ravage her?
Because… she’s here, defenseless, obviously uncaring of being held completely still in the grasp of this body that is not my real body but is still so turned on, and oh God, what the fuck—
“As I thought,” she says with what seems like a disappointed sigh.
And then leans forward, and… licks me.
Down there.
“What the Hell are you doing?!” I tell her with what I believe is perfectly justified swearing.
“Oh, is it your first time?” she asks, curiously looking up between my bare breasts—why am I naked?!
“Obviously! I am only fourteen—no, wait, time-loop, maybe thirty? Oh, God, I am a thirty-years-old lesbian virgin; this is so pathetic—”
“Well, you don’t have to be,” she says with, perhaps, a bit of a smirk.
And then she buries her face between my bare, recently plush thighs, her nose rubbing against my uncomfortably exposed clitoris, and her long, long tongue diving right inside me as I moan and bend over her, my fingers buried in her hair to, presumably, get her away from my wet, warm, achingly empty pussy.
…
Aaaaaaany day now.
She leans up, pulling her tongue out of me to my pathetically needy whimper, and then wraps her lips around my clitoris, sucking on it hard enough to make me stop whimpering and start panting.
“Wha—wha—wha—” I ask with, perhaps, too elaborate a phrasing.
And at the sound of my not at all frantic nor panicked voice, Kyuubey stops eating me out and, yet again, looks at me between my tits.
My tits that are heaving up and down with my labored breathing, the firm flesh almost bouncing with how violent my gasps are.
…
This isn’t helping!
“I don’t have a preference one way or the other, but would you rather I swallowed your cock down to the root and watch as my eyes bulge out and my cheeks redden while I choke out on your rock-hard erection?” she asks.
And I see red.
“Ah, I guess this is a yes,” she says.
And she leans forward and does precisely what she said she would do.
Gurgling on my cock.
My cock.
What. The. Hell?!
“Hmmm… I’m kinda glad you aren’t sprouting two of them at the moment. It’s always a coin toss with you reptile types, and I don’t feel like unhinging my jaw just to pleasure twice your current equipment,” Kyuubey detachedly says, her pink lips dragging over my wet tip with every damn syllable.
I look down at her in fascinated horror, and I swearI can see the hint of a smirk.
“What… What is going on?” I manage to ask, even if I don’t manage to tear her away from the part of me that I definitely shouldn’t have and that is somehow harder to accept than having wings, claws, and a snake’s tail.
“As I expected,” she says before slowly licking up from my ballsack(and isn’t that a revelation) up to my tip. “You really have no idea how things work, do you?”
“I am asking!”
“Hmmm… It’s been quite a while since I had such a…” she breathes out, slowly and warmly, and I shiver so hard the tip of my tail rattles, scattering the loose gravel with an explosion of gray dust, “captive audience,” she finishes, with what would be a saucy wink if not for the deadpan delivery.
And then she swallows my tip and swirls her tongue around it until my eyes roll back.
“Stop that!” I manage to gasp out.
No, I don’t know how. I don’t think I can do it again.
“Fine,” she says, sounding almost disappointed. “You’re currently going through your first monster transformation, which is always marked by higher arousal than usual, and even more so if you have delayed it for more than a few minutes. Seeing as monstergirls are typically a hair’s breadth away from being rampaging rape monsters, you can now appreciate why you feel like your whole body’s going to burn up if you don’t get to fill my body with your cum until it bursts out of me in thick spurts with your every thrust into my abused holes.”
I blink down at her, trying not to notice how her eyes keep crossing when she goes from looking into my eyes to the fat drop of liquid oozing out of the tip of my… cock.
The cock she’d been enthusiastically licking, even if her voice and face indicated nothing but a mild, detached curiosity.
And then terrible knowledge inflicts me. A sudden flash of insight that will never let me see the world in the same way.
“Are you…” I try to ask, desperate for an answer that will dispel the horrible truth, “are you pent up?”
Kyuubey blinks up at me and then, still tightly held between my coils, looks aside and pouts.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.
And my world breaks.
Then I notice Kyuubey’s soft, fluffy tail poking out from between my coils, lazily wagging from side to side in what any canine lover will quickly identify as a mix between happiness and the expectation of more happiness, and something snaps inside my head.
Hopefully, something replaceable, because I fear this timeline will not leave things just at me having an erection dripping with Kyuubey’s spit and contemplating losing my virginity to a hatefuck.
I am not even sure what a hatefuck is! Is it sex fueled by hate? Is it sex with someone you hate? Is it sex that expresses hate? All of it? A mix that depends on the people involved? Is Kyuubey people?!
“Homura Akemi, though I despise repeating myself, I feel I should ask yet again: aren’t you going to ravage me?”
Oh, God, I am.
It’s… I am horny! Like, a lot! Very, very horny! ‘Touching myself to the thought of Madoka until I curl into a ball of self-hatred and self-pity’ horny! And there’s someone in here willing to be fucked into a messed-up puddle, and I didn’t even know that was something I wanted? I always pictured soft touches, kisses, and maybe some rose petals falling in the background, not Kyuubey on her knees screaming as I stuff her from behind!
This Kyuubey! Not the other one! I am not a furry!
Wait, do the ears and tail count? This is vital knowledge!
“Homura Akemi—”
“Shut up!” I say, finally saying to Kyuubey those two words I’ve longed to tell her since I first made my contract.
And, for good measure, I shove my cock down her throat.
…
Note to self: my monster self can’t be trusted to make rational decisions in the heat of the moment.
Other note to self: I didn’t know what ‘heat’ was until I felt Kyuubey’s tight, searing throat tighten around my cock’s head as she keeps swallowing and looking straight into my eyes as the lack of air makes a very apparent flush bloom over her pale cheeks.
Further note to self: stop dissociating before the damn succubus sucks me dry.
“Gah! How are you—fuck!” I explain my feelings to her.
In a measured answer, she starts bobbing her head back and forth, never taking me out of her throat even as her lips smash against my pelvis with every violent downward stroke, sending bolts of pleasure up my spine and down my tail.
I think I’m quickly losing control of this situation. What little of it I had.
So, what can I do other than grit my teeth as her delicate, reddish tongue slithers out from below my cock and slathers my balls with enough saliva it drips down my thigh gap?
Grab her hair? Already done. It only makes her close her eyes and purr—just how many animals are you?!
Thrust back and forth, as if roughly fucking her mouth? Her eyelids are fluttering! It’s not fair for Kyuubey to be so sexy!
Wait, wait, wait, I’m thinking about this wrong. I’ve got her in my coils; I am in control. It’s me who dictates the pace of—oh, for fuck’s sake! She’s masturbating! Her fingers are up her skirt, and the smell is making my tongue lap at the air just to catch more of her! This is wrong; my whole body’s wrong; I’m just a wanton slut built for breeding petite albino girls who are eager to have my cum spurting out of their ‘abused holes’—and I can’t believe that little speech is now branded into my brain.
If I ever say any of it in front of Madoka, I’ll just die.
And it will all be Kyuubey’s fault!
Wait… It is Kyuubey’s fault.
So I should… punish her? Is that how a hatefuck is supposed to work? Is there a quick pamphlet I could browse?
Well, the tip of my tail looks quite strong, so…
With an idle, experimental, smooth motion not at all hindered by my brains dripping out of my ears as Kyuubey inhales around my cock hard enough I can feel something trying to come out, I look at her exposed, white-skirted rump peeking out between my coils and… spank her.
With the tip of my tail.
That makes a sound uncomfortably akin to a whip.
But, before I can wince in sympathetic pain, I feel Kyuubey… shudder. Struggling between my coils, her whole body spasming as the scent of her arousal intensifies to the point I get drunk on it.
I can feel drool almost dripping out of my mouth before I gather enough of my wits to swallow it up while I look down, over Kyuubey’s busy head, at her squirming behind and swaying tail, and I can only hear moans garbled by a rod of meat stuck past her lips and wet, violent sloshing of thrusting fingers.
And then I get ideas.
So I send my tail to wrap around Kyuubey’s busy wrist, forcing her right hand away from her noisy pussy while I keep the left arm pinned to the side of her body, and she looks at me with a hint of something plaintive as she whines around my cock, her cheeks flushed, her eyes teary, and drool streaming out of the corners of her pale pink lips.
And I throb.
Which makes her eyes widen as she resumes forcibly swallowing me up and down, the gurgling noises of her yielding throat making my own jaw drop open, and my tongue unfurl as she accelerates, faster and harder, demanding in her focused need.
I can feel something familiar building deep inside me, something I’ve felt often enough in lonely yearning, but it’s somewhat different. It’s… shallower, yet faster, the sensations more focused in a burning moment as I…
As I dig my fingers in Kyuubey’s hair, force my cock all the way down her throat, and liquid lightning bursts.
And my whole world goes white.
I jerk my hips against her mashed lips, jets of… of semenpushing through me as my balls clench and my whole body shakes, the coils around Kyuubey letting me know how good having her soft body between mine feels even as her demanding lips, tongue, and throat keep pulling more and more pleasure out of me, making my desperate gasps turn to screams as my head shoots back and I howl at the sky above, my breasts bouncing with the abrupt movement.
I keep coming, and she keeps swallowing, and I can’t do anything but let her until my strength falters, and I drop back, barely noticing the pebbles digging into my back, my wings spread like the softest duvet below me, or Kyuubey’s shifting weight as she crawls up from my coils until she’s above me, her hands on either side of my head, looking down into my eyes with crimson that only highlights the pale flesh and silver hair surrounded by the darkness of a cloudless night.
“Is that…” she gasps, pausing to swallow before her tongue peeks out to catch an errant strand of what I take too long to realize is my own cum. Then she drags it inside her lips, swallows, and I have to repress my urge to whimper. “Is that all, Homura Akemi?”
Once again, my jaw drops.
My eyes also kinda bulge out, and now I remember her earlier speech, and I kinda want to see how she looks when she’s actually choking and not just playing it up.
“If you’re just going to lie there and gape at me, I will conclude that this was, in fact, all that you could give me,” she says with a hint of annoyance that makes something in my chest roar.
So I lie there, beneath her, gaping at her.
But I also coil my tail around her hips, her waist, beneath and over her bust, making sure to pin both arms firmly to her sides. And I lift her.
“Wha—” she starts, actual confusion on her face and voice that makes me throb about as much as her eager lips around me.
And then I push her down on my cock, spreading her open slowly but forcefully as I watch her clench her teeth, eyes rolled back, and a hissing sound coming from her that forces yet another throb out of me.
“You’re…” I try to look for the right words. “You’re going to be the one lying still, Kyuubey.” Good, that’s… a reversal? Good enough. “You’re going to stay between my coils,” yes, good! “and take my thick cock up your pussy,” right, kinda cliché, but it works, “until I come again and again after using you like a fleshlight!”
…
Oh, God, please, don’t let anybody ever know I just said this!
“You’re blushing,” Kyuubey comments, back to her deadpan as she takes advantage of my mortified paralysis.
“And you’re gonna be a moaning, wrecked mess!” I shout back.
“Hmmm… I’ll give you points for the immediate comeback. Your dirty talk still needs work, though.”
“Who the Hell are you to tell me how dirty talk—”
“Child, I’ve forgotten more about lovemaking than your entire race has yet to learn. I am ancient beyond the stars, and I could bring you to your knees in worshipping ecstasy with a single stroke from the tip of my fingers,” she says, something terrible lurking in her crimson eyes.
So I lie on the gravelly rooftop, just blinking up at the white-haired girl speared halfway down my cock.
And then she laughs.
“Oh, dear, you really fell for that, didn’t you?” she says, actual mirth in her eyes. “Sex is not that complicated, Homura Akemi, just a matter of—fuck!”
That’s the moment where I get pissed off and pull her the rest of the way down.
Which makes me hiss in discomfort, but at least my snake side is pretty good at hissing.
“See?” she says through gritted teeth. “Not that… complicated.”
And she smirks.
…
Fuck it—no, fuck her.
So I bring her up, faster than I first thrust inside her as I push myself into an almost sitting position with my wings. She’s looking down on me, that flush on her pale cheeks having come back even as she tries to look disinterested yet again.
I am using my tail to restrain her, my cock to fuck her, but… that’s not all that I have, is it?
So I reach forward and slip my claw through the middle of her shirt, over the first button above her cleavage, effortlessly cutting the thread.
And then the next one. And the next.
And there’s a line of tight cleavage in front me, slowly moving down as I drag Kyuubey’s clenching pussy down on me, so I lean forward to feel the breasts of another girl for the first time in my life, and they… they are so soft, so tender against my cheeks, my lips, that I can’t resist the temptation to kiss them, to more intimately feel them against my face, to stick my tongue between them as it elongates until it gathers the sweat beaded above her breastbone, the taste so intoxicating I don’t even notice until I’ve fully encircled one of them and I hear Kyuubey’s shuddering moan.
I like hearing it.
There’s this… thrill, this surge of pleasure when I feel the rush of power over making her react, forcing her body to enjoy what I do to it. And I want more of it, so I slide my tongue back to wetly glide over her rippling flesh until I squeeze her nipple between coiled muscle, and I grasp her ass with my hands, my scaled fingers gliding over her skin until I tighten them, the soft flesh spilling between them.
She moans again, her body straining against my coils, her tail going rigid behind her, and I peek up between her breasts to see her looking down at me, the flush now going over her nose, her eyes now lidded rather than narrowed, her nostrils flaring as she takes whatever it is she feels from my own scent.
“Is… Is that all, Homura Akemi?” she asks.
So I grab her ass tighter, and ram her down against my hips as my tail lifts both of us off the ground.
She screams, loud enough that it covers my own moan at the scalding pleasure she gives me, at the renewed urge to bury myself in her as many times as it takes for her body to go completely limp, only held up by my own coils as I puppeteer her up and down on my hard cock, and we keep rising off the rooftop, reaching for the sky in the staggered rhythm of Kyuubey getting bounced almost entirely off me and then back down as I surge up.
We keep doing that, her flesh smacking on what is still human of me even as I hold her body with my coils, her ass with my scaled hands, her breasts with my squeezing tongue.
And then a single circle of thick, scaled flesh steadies us over loose gravel, and we are so far above the rooftop it almost feels like we are flying as I keep bouncing her on me, against me, her cries now far from her deadpan or her curiosity as she keeps throwing her head back as if offering me her throat.
So I lean back and then strike forward, my fangs sinking into the delicate side of her slender neck without breaking the skin.
And I spread my wings. And use them.
The wind roars past us, fast enough to almost drown Kyuubey’s moans and whimpers even as my own are muffled by her flesh in my mouth, my tongue dancing over the twitching muscle and pulsing veins, tasting as much of her as I can as we soar.
I spiral around the hospital, my tail uncoiling from Kyuubey’s limp body as I hold her against me with my arms. My pelvis keeps thrusting in and out of her, because I can’t even think about stopping even as my tail falls down below me, undulating like a fish swimming upstream as gleaming windows race past me.
For a single moment, I think I catch sight of a mermaid bouncing up and down on top of a naked man, but the only thing the sight does to me is force me to realize how inadequate it is for Kyuubey to remain dressed. So I let my claws elongate, and, pausing in my thrusting only for a moment, my flight steady enough for it, I tear her clothes apart.
And I have her. In my grasp. Naked.
Mine.
Then we fly past the hospital, and only black sky is around us, only glittering stars above as cold winds make my long hair stream behind me as her arms wrap around my waist and pull me tighter against her before her legs do the same, her ankles hooked below my hips, over soft, sliding scales.
“Is… Is that all, Homura Akemi?” she gasps out, her throat quivering against my lips.
I let go of my bite with a last, lingering lick that reaches past the nook behind her jaw, and I crane my head up to whisper right into the twitching, triangular ear atop her head.
“Almost,” I purr.
And then I wrap my wings around her, encasing both of us in soft, deep darkness, and we fall.
Kyuubey screams. In fear, thrill, pleasure, or whatever mix this grants her.
And I fuck her.
Again and again, I drag myself in and out of quivering, wet flesh, her arms and legs collaborating with each of my thrusts until the liquid lightning gathers once again right below my spine, and I thrust one last time.
And, amid perfect darkness, I see white.
The roaring winds fade away, her gasps and screams as well, and there’s only the wet heat engulfing me, swallowing me up, draining me as cum bursts out again, and again, and again.
Then I hear my name, open my eyes, and realize I’m about to crash.
My wings spread almost of their own volition, the freefall turning into a graceful curve aided by my tail slithering through the air as I try to focus on our flight rather than on Kyuubey clinging to me, muttering my name over and over, and shivering in a way I can’t even process.
Then, my right wing dips slightly, at just the precise angle I understand it needs to do, and I turn over in my flight, slowing down until I slide on my back over the tiled rooftop of the hospital’s tower with a naked, pale, shivering girl curled on top of me.
“That…” I gasp out. “That is all, Kyuubey.”
We take a moment, me staring up at the cloudless sky, she loudly breathing, her head between my breasts as my cock finally deflates and slides out of her.
Then her long ears, the ones that reached inside my body to take my soul when we contracted, slither over me, grab my wrists, and pull my hands…
On top of her head.
What.
“Aftercare,” she mutters as if reading the baffled thought.
“What… What do you mean about aftercare?”
Almost grumpily, she shifts atop me until her elbows are on either side of me and her chin rests on the back of her hands as she looks down at me with clear reproach.
Her ears keep making me stroke her short hair, though. She even leans into it.
“It’s an important part of any kind of BDSM relationship, Homura Akemi. It lets the sub unwind after an intense session and shows a marked ending to the act itself so that usual interactions can be resumed and the transition is eased, not to mention it entails a reassurance of healthy emotional attachments. Nobody wants to be a dom or a sub full time—or nobody should,” she grumbles out.
“What?”
“It is basic knowledge,” she huffs.
“What?”
She rolls back her eyes. For some reason, I don’t think this means the same this time around as when she did it while cumming her brains out.
Just a hunch.
“You are going to pet me, cuddle me, and lie still until I feel like moving off you,” she says, dropping once again atop my breasts.
My bare breasts.
“Wha—”
“If you ask ‘what’ once again, Homura Akemi, I will make you wish you were born a mute.”
Carefully silent, I bend my (strangely flexible, now that I think about it) neck down to look at the apparently disgruntled girl nuzzling atop me while she forces me to pat her head. Then I blink a couple of times to make sure that, yes, reality is just that weird.
Then I drop my head back down, and look at the black sky above with only a few, scattered stars shining through the light pollution that was so much dimmer when we were high above.
Fucking.
Because I can now fly, and the first thing I did with this newfound freedom and power was to fuck Kyuubey.
Not Madoka. Kyuubey.
…
Fine. Just fine. I’ve decided: this timeline doesn’t count. What happens in Crazed Monstergirl Sexland stays in Crazed Monstergirl Sexland. I’ll screw up something, fail to save Madoka yet again, rewind the month back, and I won’t have lost my virginity to Kyuubey in the most enthusiastically consensual hatefuck ever.
So, fuck it: her hair’s mesmerizingly soft, and I feel like petting it. Maybe learning about ‘aftercare’ will come in handy sometime in the future, when a sane Madoka from a sane timeline decides she wants to do something mildly adventurous that doesn’t involve me falling down into an orgasm-fueled, almost murder-suicide.
Yes. That sounds like a sane thing that could happen.
“Don’t forget to play with my ears, Homura Akemi,” Kyuubey purrs, making my breasts vibrate.
…
Fuck it. Maybe Madoka will also be into pet play. I can always buy her a set of cat ears, and it’s not like I’m not curious about the soft, fluffy things—
“We should also engage in pillow talk. I believe it is customary, Homura Akemi.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake—!
Comments
Agrippa
Thanks! It's been fun exploring the characters at the same time as the smutty comedy. The serious parts of the story really caught me off guard.
Ahh, how deliciously subversive. I love it!
