
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10315802.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Mahou_Shoujo_Madoka_Magika_|_Puella_Magi_Madoka_Magica
  Relationship:
      Akemi_Homura/Kaname_Madoka
  Character:
      Akemi_Homura, Kaname_Madoka, Miki_Sayaka
  Additional Tags:
      implied_Kyoko/Sayaka, Post-Canon, Master/Pet, Voyeurism, Non-Consensual
      Voyeurism, Dubious_Consent, Altered_Mental_States, Cunnilingus, Vaginal
      Fingering, Exhibitionism
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-03-15 Words: 2061
****** Wicked Carnality ******
by Larkawolfgirl
Summary
     There was a time when Madoka was a normal teenage girl, then a
     magical girl, and then a goddess. There was a time when she wanted
     nothing more than take all the pain and suffering out of the world.
     But none of that mattered anymore.
      
     And it was about time Sayaka realized this.
Notes
     This is sort of a sequel to Devil's_Compensation, but it can be read
     on its own.
Madoka turned her head at the sound of the door clicking open then shut. Her
hand reached out toward the girl she knew to be there though her vision was
still obscured by a black blindfold. The fabric was a comforting reassurance,
but not so much as her master’s touch, and so she began to whimper in small
meowing sounds to get her attention. Madoka could feel the edge of her skirt
brush against her as she approached.
“There, there, Madoka,” her master said while petting sweetly through her hair.
“I just had to go buy us food. What would you like for dinner? Fried rice?
Curry?”
Madoka meowed softly.
“Fried rice? Okay, it’ll be ready in no time.”
She started to move away, but Madoka grabbed at her skirt in protest.
Her master chuckled softly. “Did you miss me that much?”
She had. She was seated on her knees, bare skin against the wooden floor, and
she leaned back so that her bare torso could call for attention. She wanted to
feel her master’s fingers on her—in her—she craved it with a passion which
nearly consumed her.
Her master sighed. “Okay then. I can never deny you anything, my sweet Madoka.”
She trailed down her torso, fingering light and peppering over her nipples
causing Madoka to shiver in anticipation. Then her hand left her, and there was
a long silent wait disturbed only by the quiet sound of clothing hitting the
floor.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Madoka still remembered her life before—a
life in which she was a normal girl, then a magical girl, then a goddess. She
remembered pain and sadness. She remembered longing to suck all the pain and
suffering out of the world so that no one else would have to suffer. But none
of that mattered anymore. All that was left was this carnality which threatened
to devour her in its searing jaws.
Her master’s hand found her again, cupping over her breast, palming at her. It
sent prickles through her nipples.
“Homura-chan,” she murmured.
Homura found her neck and set on nibbling at her flesh as her other hand
mimicked the first. Madoka brought her hand up to Homura’s head, holding her
that much closer. Homura trailed downward, tasting all her nooks and crannies.
Over her collarbone, her breasts, her stomach, and dipping tantalizingly into
her belly button. The girl fell back further in pleasure until the point that
it felt achingly unpleasant.
Realizing her disagreeable position, her master wrapped a hand around her back
to hold her up higher while forcing her legs out straight with the other. “Lie
back,” she ordered against her skin, and Madoka did so immediately, head
swimming pleasantly with the care her master showed more often than not.
There was another pause, and Madoka’s nerves sizzled in eagerness. Then her
mouth was on her, lips crushing against her lower ones, tongue snaking out to
prod against her nub. Her tongue rolled over it, pushing in with varying rates
of pressure, before sucking on it with vigor. The girl twisted herself, hands
clenching so that her nails bit into the skin of her palm.
Homura’s tongue slid down along the lining of her lips. As she sunk into her,
one hand brushed against her clit in soft teasing touches while the other
messaged her inner thigh. Madoka moaned at the ministrations, feeling the fire
within her lighting to a sweltering temperature. Her master ate her out slowly,
with acute precision, and soon Madoka was panting in heavy breaths. Uncurling a
hand, she wound it into the akuma’s hair and tightened. She came in a hot rush
that left her stomach feeling lethargic. Homura lapped at the traces of her
orgasm. She kissed her sweetly, and Madoka’s own tangy taste met her tongue.
Pulling back, her master untied the blindfold and it slipped down, unshielding
her eyes for the first time in hours. Madoka blinked back the offending light
before taking her beautiful master in. She wore a satisfied smile and impish
eyes. “Now, let’s eat.” Madoka pouted slightly, giving a soft cooing sound.
“I’m fine. We’ll have plenty of time for more fun after dinner.”
The pout vanished, replaced by a sparkling smile as her master helped her to
her feet. Madoka remembered longing for more to life than this, but here—living
it—this was all she needed or wanted.
Homura pet through Madoka’s hair absently as the girl nuzzled against her. Life
was nearly perfect, but there was one annoyance still stuck in her side. She
could simply kill Sayaka Miki. However, Homura feared this might be the final
thing to push Madoka over of the edge, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Madoka was the entire point, after all.
Her fingers dug a bit deeper into the girl’s pink hair. Then a thought came to
her and a wicked smile found her face. “My pet, how would you mind going out
with me?”
There was an affirmative purr.
“Sayaka,” Homura said in an off-handed tone, “you never learn, do you? I am on
an entirely different level than you.”
Sayaka panted, eyes piercing. “I will never forgive you. You took them both,
you monster.”
Homura gave a vile laugh. “Took them, did I? Does she look like a prisoner to
you?” She gestured toward Madoka who was sitting limply on a park bench behind
them in a pink floral dress. Her head lulled to the side, eyes nearly vacant, a
tiny smile plastered to her face. Nothing shackled her, aside from Homura’s
presence.
“You did something to her,” she accused.
Homura gave another laugh. “Nothing more than give her the pleasure she didn’t
know she desired. You never knew she was such a pussy slut, did you? Would you
like to watch her cum? It’s beyond words. She makes this cute little noise in
the back of her throat, then her face gets so pink and her eyes bulge.”
Sayaka looked pale. She was shaking as she raised her sword again. “Just shut
up, akuma!”
“I think not. You have gotten on my last nerve, and this will be your
punishment for interfering. Now stand by and watch like a good girl.” Homura
snapped her fingers and black webby strands appeared from the ground encircling
her long-ago teammate. The girl’s face twisted in disgust as realization hit
her. This was really about to happen. Homura couldn’t help the nasty smile of
satisfaction.
She walked to Madoka leisurely; there was no hurry. When she was positioned
behind her, her hand traced over her face, smile transforming at the way her
lover clung to her every touch. “Pet, how would you like to play some more?
Would you like that?”
She nodded.
“Do you see Sayaka there?” Another nod. “Do you mind if she watches?” A shake
of the head this time. “Good.” Homura rewarded her with a pet from the crown of
her head all the way down her back and to the edge of her buttocks. She gave
the smallest of shudders at the action. Flitting her attention back to Sayaka,
Homura grinned, “See, I’m merely giving her what it is she wants.”
“Don’t you touch her!”
Ignoring her, Homura tugged Madoka’s dress off in one motion. Normally she
would take the time to take her lovely Madoka in fully, but right now she was
more focused on watching Sayaka’s every reaction. Her forehead was clenched
painfully and she started to turn her head aside. A new strand shot from the
ground, encircling her neck just tight enough to hold her in place.
“I told you to watch.”
Homura ran her hands down Madoka’s bare arms, then her sides. The girl was
panting with anticipation now. As much to tease Sayaka as her, Homura brushed
along her stomach and the underside of her breasts then her inner thighs
avoiding her needy core. Madoka gave a whine, and Homura giggled. “Be patient,”
she cooed before kissing at her neck. Her pulse pounded against her lips,
increasing each time her fingers inched impossibly close to where she wanted
them.
Finally, she was merciful, hands spreading her legs uncomfortably wide before
one hand plunged inside. She was already drenching wet, always so ready for
her, and her fingers slipped inside without any resistance. Madoka’s head
tipped back, a broken cry falling from her lips.
Sayaka’s mouth dropped, eyes unreadable. “Shit…”
“Ho..mu..ra,” Madoka pleaded.
“Yes, that’s a good girl, Madoka. You will get your reward soon, I promise.”
She nodded even as little cries left her mouth with each flick of Homura’s
fingers.
Homura knew exactly how to bring Madoka over the edge as quickly as possible,
but she was purposefully dragging this out. She finger-fucked her, meticulously
avoiding her g-spot until the girl was all but quaking, her mouth wide and
dripping saliva. Madoka’s hand found her forearm, holding on weakly. When
Homura met her eyes they were colored with the beautiful soft spark of
pleading.
Her wrist snapped, and Madoka jolted so hard she nearly slid off the bench.
“Ahh!” Her voice came loud and genuine without filter, a bi-product of
ingrained conditioning.
When Homura glanced back at Sayaka, she looked ready to hurl. Good.
Satisfied enough to turn her back on the girl at last, Homura circled her pet,
making sure not to neglect her in the process. Now in front, she knelt down,
waiting until her nose was close enough to brush her thigh to remove her
fingers. Madoka gave a dissatisfied whine but it was immediately followed by a
shiver of anticipation.
She knew what her reward was.
Homura moved in that final inch, her own moan coming as her tongue breached
those hot, convulsing walls. Her taste hit her tongue, ever tangy sweet, and
she let her eyes close, just savoring the moment. She lapped with abandon,
shivering herself when Madoka’s hands gripped at her hair in that way she
loved. Madoka held her there so that all she could smell and taste and feel was
her.
Madoka made that curling meow sound she always did before she came. Homura
rolled her tongue, readying to catch as much of her as she could, hand
clenching on her thigh leaving nail prints. Then Madoka’s entire body gave a
hard shudder, back arching, and she released the loudest noise of all. It was
half shout, half whimper, purely Madoka. Not a second later, hot liquid cocaine
reached Homura and she drank until the tremors in the girl’s thighs ceased. She
gave her one final lick along the outside of her folds just to be sure she was
fully clean before cupping her now tired-looking lover’s cheek.
Homura gave her an affectionate kiss before turning back to Sayaka who looked
caught between crying and retching. Her anger, however, was blatant.
“You’re sick.”
“Honestly, I don’t care if I am. All I care about is Madoka. Anything else is
not even worth my consideration.”
“You…” Sayaka clenched her fist. “You did this to her. You tainted her.”
“Yes,” Homura agreed immediately, enjoying the minute surprise it earned her.
“Now,” she said, voice hardening, “you are going to stop bothering Madoka and
me. Otherwise I will be forced to do the same to your precious Kyoko.”
Horror flickered in her eyes and she struggled violently against her bindings.
“Don’t you dare touch her!”
“Ooh, did I hit a nerve? Like I said, all you need to do is leave Madoka and me
in peace and nothing will befall her. Can you promise me?” Homura set ice cold
eyes on her.
The fight drained from Sayaka as she cast her gaze from one binding to the
next, understanding the position she was in. “Fine,” she said through clenched
teeth.
“Good.” Homura smiled smugly. “Now be off with you.” With a snap of her
fingers, the strands shot high up out of the ground, taking Sayaka with them.
Then they shot her up with immense force. Homura watched the girl shoot through
the sky before landing some blocks away.
Her attention was brought back to Madoka when she tugged on her sleeve.
“Homura-chan,” she cooed quietly.
“Yes, Madoka?”
Her head was tilted adorably. “Can I return the favor now?”
Homura gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Of course. Let’s go home.”
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