It shouldn't have been like this. Mami thought, sighing. She closed her eyes and blinked hard, hoping, praying that things weren't the way they were. She held her breath a moment, her eyes still clenched shut.
The quiet, peaceful breathing of her koha-her lover filtered in through her ears. Mami let out the breath she had been holding with another sigh, looking up and staring at the ceiling.
What am I doing?
She lay in bed, sweaty, exhausted, and extremely accompanied, but despite the weariness in her bones, the sinking pit in her stomach and the churning turmoil in her mind wouldn't let her sleep. All she could think about was that this wasn't how things were supposed to go, this wasn't how things were meant to have turned out, this wasn't... Well, this was what happened, so she had to deal with it.
She had never meant to do this to Sayaka - she didn't deserve it. She felt pathetic and weak of mind just thinking about what she had done to her. Hoping to find some empty solace in her memories, she cast herself back to how all of this had started.
This... Lie of a relationship had roots that were months old. Possibly in the day that Sayaka first contracted, but maybe even the day we first met. I'd been alone for so long, without anyone but Kyubey and myself for company, I don't think I realised just how bad I had gotten. As soon as I met them, I latched on - I didn't care for names, for ages, for anything... Madoka and Sayaka, the only two people in the world I could talk to. And that's all I thought I needed at first, just some break from the desperate monotony of survival in a world that didn't seem to care for me. And there Sayaka was - so naïve and enthusiastic, so many dreams and wishes for the world.
Here Mami paused, and glanced over at her for the first time since they had been latched together, hair tangled, hot skin, begging each other's names in desperate, twisted ecstacy...
She had admired Sayaka's honesty at first. They should have been friends, but that was Mami's first mistake. She was Sayaka's senpai, and so the first thing she became was a mentor.
But wasn't that what I wanted? She thought to herself. Madoka and Sayaka, looking up to me? Learning from me? Needing me? I suppose I wanted students, but more than that I wanted comrades. Girls who I could make into Magical girls like me, ones that wouldn't hurt me or steal from me, ones that wouldn't leave me when things got tough...
But I could never have enough, could I? She accused herself, still staring over at Sayaka. She slumbered peacefully, a faint smile gracing her lips. She was pretty, Mami couldn't deny. But was it love she felt for the hot-headed young girl? It didn't much feel like it. And if it was, it was a tainted, poisonous love at that. No, this was more than two girls finding mutual attraction in each other and discovering something within it; it was a selfish and heinous act. She had stolen Sayaka's innocence from her.
I had always understood about Kyousuke. I had known what he meant to her long before she had ever admitted it to me. I may not have understood wishing for others like she did, but all the signs were there. And in a way, I was jealous of him - Madoka was... Madoka was mine as well, she idolised me. Both of them had taken in the pretty picture of perfection that I had painted around myself, but with Kyousuke at her side, what need would Sayaka have for me? I needed them to depend on me, and I know I still do. I made them depend on me, for my own selfish needs.
And I lied to them, yes I lied. Of course I told them it was hard, and I told them it was dangerous. But I never admitted to them that it was hell. I never said anything of the years alone, of the nights where my only company was the sound of my own sobbing.
Because no, I was their perfect senpai, I was the brave hero fighting for justice and innocent lives, not just some scared little girl that only needed someone to look up to.
But of course, it wasn't a 'them' for long, was it? Madoka never contracted, after all that. Whether she was too scared or too smart, I'll never know, but before long Sayaka was my world. And I started to become hers. Wasn't that what I wanted? But it didn't feel right. I knew I was using her, even then.
And that was before things started going really badly. The first time she came to me, not a tear in her eyes but not a single mote of any emotion besides, I started to understand what Sayaka was. She wasn't enthusiastic and brave, just as I wasn't noble and strong. She was weak, and alone, and afraid, just like I was, and she needed someone to look up to. Just as I needed someone beneath me.
And so, I played the part. I told her I was there for her, I told her she didn't need to mask her emotions from me. I let her cry, I let her talk, I became a shoulder to rely on. Ever the reliable Mami, wasn't I perfect? And yet I hated myself. And even now, I hate what I was too blind to see myself becoming. I was twisting Sayaka, for my own needs. I fed myself on her insecurities, gave the illusion that I could help.
Pretty soon, I realised that was just the first of her depressive episodes. She had a weak and reliant psyche, and soon started to look to me for almost any kind of confirmation. Her world was collapsing around her, and I was the only anchor she had left.
But I could feel myself slipping. I'm just as broken as she is, maybe even worse. And even though I could hide it better, nobody hides forever. We started spending more and more time together. Sayaka's parents seemed not to notice if she was present or not, and my apartment always felt like it needed two anyway, so Sayaka would stay a lot. Mostly days, some evenings, and the occasional night. But we never did anything - not yet. I was close to her, and she was close to me. Sometimes we'd say nothing, but our mutual need of each other was enough for hours at a time.
And then came the turning point in everything. As I knew it would, Kyousuke's rejection of Sayaka's love, or rather his love for someone else, ruined my Sayaka. I knew something was wrong from the first moment I saw her. She had always been fragile, admiring, but she was a changed girl from that point on. It was almost as if the flame of her spirit had been extinguished.
Perhaps I can lie, and say that was why I did what I did? It tore me apart inside to see her this way, so hollow and sad, eyes unseeing. A part of me, no all of me hated it. I wanted to help her, but I didn't know how. I tried to comfort her, and in doing so made myself into something more for her. I made her need me. Even more so than before.
Maybe that was why she tried to put distance between us? Mami thought, instinctively reaching out and taking the sleeping girl's hand, as she had done a thousand times. Sayaka's grip tightened possessively around Mami's fingers, and she had to stop herself from smiling affectionately. Their love was too poisonous for happiness.
Maybe that was why she started going out on hunts by herself, throwing herself harder and harder into battle... Either she felt scared of our closeness, or she felt like I was too much for her, too lofty, too noble... Who knows how you think, Sayaka? I can't even pretend to begin.
Well, I spoiled that, anyway. I confronted her, the broken, dying thing that she was, and I broke her further. I killed that Witch to save her life, and in that eerie, monochrome world, I told her the truth. I broke myself; the pain of being perfect was too much to bear anymore. I didn't want a student anymore, I wasn't worthy of it. I needed to let someone in. I'd been chasing attention and acceptance for so long, I'd forgotten myself in the process. I tore down the statues of myself within Sayaka's mind, I revealed myself to be the weak, scared little girl that I was, and I think she understood, for just a moment - I needed her just as strongly as she needed me.
Our worlds started to crumble after that. The occasional daytime meetups started to become regular, our attendance records at school became erratic and patchy, and we just didn't care. It wasn't enough to turn our backs on school, we turned our backs on the world. I think I broke something fundamental inside her, when I admitted that I wasn't a real hero of justice. She became apathetic toward the world, and frankly so did I. What did the rest of the world give to us? It had abandoned us both, and in our solitude, we had found each other. I felt lost in my own home, not to mention the aimless wanderings, day and night, through the city. We knew exactly where we were, of course - but we just didn't care. And then, one day, my penultimate mistake, a weakness of my heart, a perversion of the yearning in my soul.
Unusually, we were at school. We spent all our time out of lessons together, and most of our lessons either talking to each other with telepathy, or simply keeping the connection between us open, to maintain the familiarity of our closeness.
It was lunch break, I remember that - but I don't remember what we were saying. We were alone, around a corner. We did that sort of thing a lot, if just to avoid Madoka. The others we could ignore, but the concern in her eyes... I couldn't stand it, and the agony on my Sayaka's face when Madoka was around steeled my resolve. We'd cut her out of our lives, too. But then, whatever we were talking about... Something snapped within me. The power, the dominance of being her mentor all this time returned with a passion, a lusting that I couldn't supress anymore. The strangest part was the feeling of relief when my body seemingly spurred itself into action and grabbed her by the shoulders, pushed her roughly against the wall, and under the shade of a small tree, kissed her forcefully.
The exhilarating rush of overpowering her, of dominating her, was addictive. I just couldn't stop myself, and I couldn't hold myself back. The sensation of her lips was hot and salty, and her cheeks burned like fire as I caressed them. She seemed scared at first, but within minutes we were beside ourselves, releasing weeks of built-up tension. It felt too good. I kissed her, messily, aggressively, I slipped my tongue into her mouth, I tasted her bittersweet flavour, I nipped at her lips, I pressed my body up against hers and she mewled with submissive delight, following my lead with increasing eagerness as the burning, sweaty encounter continued.
From that point on, I knew that what I was doing was wrong. Mami thought shamefully, releasing Sayaka's hand and moving instead to stroke her tousled, matted hair. She deserves so much better. Doesn't she realise I was using her?
We kissed a lot, after that first day. The intimacy was a fix, a rush of emotion. I would take hold of her, she would take hold of me, and we would kiss, harshly, violently at times, as if we were pouring out all the self-loathing and frustration, all the desperation and loneliness in a display of savage lust. In fact, I can't think of any better explanation for what I did. I needed a release, I needed to crush the apathy and emptiness that had taken hold of my soul, and I found that by robbing Sayaka of her innocence, one fiery embrace at a time, my hands wandering towards places I never should have dreamt of touching, I could find some of my soul return. She should have hated me for using her like that.
And yet, she didn't. She melted into my embrace like she wanted nothing else, and the power made me hungry for more. I would leave her, sweating, breathless and used, and she never said a word against me for it. Perhaps she simply refused to admit how far we were gone, but I liked to kid myself that it was because this was what she needed too.
Pretty soon, it was something we did... Once or twice a day? Sometimes more? Even on the increasingly rare days that we would attend school, if ever the mood took me, and often it did, I would tell Sayaka to make her excuses and I would make mine, so we could find some quiet and private corner of the school to further our depravity. She just so desperately wanted someone that loved her, she accepted my lust as love and bent herself to me. All the fighting, all the revelations, all the secrets and lies had hollowed her out, and she was letting herself fill up with nothing but me. It was abhorrent, but I couldn't stop myself.
We were spiralling downwards, faster and faster, and I could feel it... But I didn't care. All that mattered was the thrill of the instant gratification. Magical girls don't have lives anyway, what did it matter? Why should grades matter when you're fighting for your life nearly every night just to stay alive? We were corrupted mockeries of the girls we once were, but we were living in a corrupted mockery of a world, so what did it matter?
But better than school was when I took her back to my apartment. It didn't matter what time of day it was, morning, afternoon, schooltime or even night-time, when we were at my apartment, every inch was solace, was privacy to practice our perversion - my perversion. No matter what we were doing, I could push her down and kiss her, and lick and bite and touch... I knew what would come, sooner or later, but I put it off. There was still one last barrier to cross, and then there was no going back...
I really started to notice things were going wrong when she started to tell me she loved me. Mami decided, pausing to look at her slumbering lover for a moment.
I still remember it as clear as day. I had her down on the sofa, and I was leaning over her possessively. Her collar easily gave way beneath my fingers, as it often did, and my tongue traced down the side of her neck so that my lips could clamp down of her collarbone, and I could kiss and nuzzle at such a sensitive spot. But then I heard her say it, that dreaded sound, and for the first time since we had first become intimate under that tree, I paused, my conviction a little shaken.
"I love you." It was barely a whisper that first time, almost nothing more than an excited sigh from a trembling Sayaka. But I heard it, and for a moment I paused. It felt right to reply, or even to respond, but I couldn't find the words or the actions that could meet it. I didn't feel like love, I felt like satisfying my desires with the girl I had semi-consciously tied to my well-being. I didn't want to date Sayaka, or take her out to dinner, I just wanted... I just wanted relief. I just wanted satisfaction, and I was taking it by making her mine.
"I-I love you, Mami-sama." Sayaka panted louder, with more conviction, wrapping both arms around my back and pulling me in close, pressing our chests and stomachs together. Instinct and desire overcame me, and I continued with renewed vigour as I felt Sayaka's fingernails dig into my skin, even through my blouse. I couldn't answer her with words, but I could at least give her more of what she wanted, and take more of what I wanted as well.
And as my hands wandered down to her waist, and my lips teased under her jawline, she kept whimpering and loving me, and I kept thinking about what love meant.
Pretty soon after that, I wasted no time in lifting myself off her a little and unbuttoning her blouse, and without thought or hesitation it seemed, she did the same to me. My body felt heated and restrained in these clothes, but I maintained some shred of modesty and kept my skirt, panties and bra on, and didn't remove her underwear either. And for the next half an hour, we sweated, and panted, and explored every unclothed inch of each other's bodies until, gasping and needy beyond belief, I stopped and dragged myself away from her. She looked almost tearful to be parted from me, and her barely-draped form quivered with need for me. That was the closest we had come to sex, and I hated myself for it. I never should have taken things this far, but now I had, I had learned to crave it, and Sayaka seemed almost to need it.
She'd tell me she loved me a lot, from that point on. Every time I pinned her down and made out with her, every time my hands found themselves at the softer and more sensitive parts of her body, she would tell me. She might gasp it, whisper it, straight-out say it, or even moan it, but she would always tell me.
I, on the other hand, never said a word. I couldn't. She must have known I didn't feel that way toward her, but she persisted. And whenever she said it, I would always give her more. I didn't love her, not in a romantic way. I realised that more and more with each passing day. But when she said it, despite the deepening pit of self-loathing that was opening beneath my chest, I couldn't help but swell with that desperate, needy happiness we shared when I realised that she loved me, she needed me. And I would smile, and I would treat her, and the more she said it... The more I suppose I felt like the old Mami again. I started to care a little more about the tip that our apartment had become. I started to put half of the effort that I once did into preparing sweets for myself and her. But while I never brought myself to love her, my lust for her only grew and grew... It wasn't just a matter of her physical appeal, though that was undeniable. It was that she was mine, that she submitted to me, and that, unlike everyone else living in the world, she understood me. And when she shivered with delight at my very touch, I felt similar shivers run down my spine just from the sheer experience of it. She wanted me, and with each passing day, I wanted her, and the things she could give me, even more.
Things came to a final climax some two weeks later. The number of times we were getting intimate with each other was five or six times a day now, and I could scarcely think of anything else. I felt tired out, from the Witches at night, and my own burning desire during the day, but I was sitting on a rollercoaster that wouldn't stop. Not that I wanted to.
I had spent the whole day almost in a daze, before it happened. Finally, lying awake the previous night, my thoughts saturated by the inevitability of what was to come, I decided that the next day would be the day. The final barrier that lay between myself and utter condemnation now only felt like it was holding me back, and I couldn't take it any longer. Even though our sessions had become more and more erotic in nature, they were feeling more and more frustrating and dissatisfying as the lack of total intimacy became more and more prevalent in my mind. Something had to be done; I couldn't live with this frustration any longer.
I had my plan, and that night I put it into action. I stripped off hurriedly, impatient to get things started. I was walking to the bathroom before I was even entirely naked. The idea of dropping this final taboo, of making Sayaka mine forever, was all I could think about. She was in the shower now, and had no idea what was to come.
As I lived alone, I had never much concerned myself with privacy in regards to locked doors, and thankfully Sayaka had followed suit after she had moved in, so I opened the bathroom door silently, peeking my head inside.
To my fortune, Sayaka was facing away from me, rinsing out her short blue hair. Feeling my heart quicken in excitement, I slipped quietly over to the shower and slid the shower door open, all of my self-hate and sickness forgotten. Finally, I would be giving Sayaka what she wanted. Without a second thought, I reached around underneath her arms and grasped her breasts tightly, pulling her into me.
She squealed with undeniable fright and surprise, her head whirling back over her right shoulder to stare back at me, her eyes wide and her lips parted slightly in shock. As soon as I saw her face, I brought mine to hers in another of my forceful, dominating kisses. Her cry of surprise died into a whimper in my mouth, and I watched her eyes close and felt her body slacken as I squeezed her soft bosom again, pinching her nipples between my fingers.
The way I kissed her that evening under the hot water of the shower was almost feral, out of even my control and the most aggressive kiss I had ever given her. We half-leaned, half-fell against the left-hand side of the shower, and she almost gave as forcefully as she received from me. My hands seemed to work on their own, fondling her pale, smooth body, my left hand rhythmically caressing her soft breast with each needy pulse of my aroused body, while my right slipped ever closer and closer to that heated, treasured spot between Sayaka's legs. The moment I found it, the shudder and moan that broke free of Sayaka's body was almost more than I could bear. The kiss became even sloppier as she struggled to breathe past her own passion, and my mind buzzed with the haze of arousal. I needed this, she needed this.
We stayed like that for a while, Sayaka's hands gripping my own as I kissed, fondled and stroked her body, before she finally worked up the strength to break the kiss and to turn and face me, at last taking initiative as her fingers mirrored my own, cupped about my nether lips. Loudly I moaned, and my dominance threatened to waver for the first time as we pleasured each other equally under the water.
But I persevered, and I regained control by curling up with my middle finger and pushing Sayaka back, pressing our lips together in another, slightly less violent kiss. She moaned into me, her knees buckling a little as I sealed our mouths together once more and we sank to the ground, both now easing ourselves into the most intimate spot on each other's bodies.
"Perhaps... We should go to the bedroom?" I suggested, in what was the last and greatest moment of intelligent thought I had left in me that night.
Obediently, Sayaka nodded, and I reluctantly withdrew myself from her, letting her do the same as I stood, and turned off the water. After that, getting to the bedroom was almost like a race, but not against each other. With one mind we hurried out of the shower and hastily, hopelessly, towelled each other dry. Even as we did that, I could scarcely help myself, and neither could she, relentlessly 'drying' each other's erogenous zones with the towels as we worked, our mouths colliding in raw desire, our tongues entwined and our breathing hot, ragged and of the same lusty origin.
I pulled her toward me by the small of her back, pressing our hips together and she groped my breast, squeezing me hard. I moaned, and let her push me back up against the cold tile wall, before raising my leg to press my thigh against her quivering lips, just long enough to spin around, move my hands and reverse our positions, pinching both of her nipples firmly in unison, while planting the first love bite of the night onto her neck, letting it join the many fading marks of the days before. She gasped my name with unrestrained arousal, and I released her for a moment, stepping back and pulling her by the shoulders into yet another passionate kiss, brief and breathless, before I took her arm and dragged her into the bedroom, the towels already forgotten.
We all but flung ourselves into the bed, after that. It wasn't just ordinary desire that had us, breathless, damp and naked, pressed up against each other and moaning. It was something else, it was like fire, coursing through my veins and taking possession of my body. Mostly, It was wild, feral and manic, all pretences of dominance and control entirely deserted as we licked and pressed and ground and groped and a thousand things else besides, a frantic introduction to a new world of deviancy and denial. But for once, I didn't even think about it. Everything was a whirl, a mess, a storm of wonderment until, suddenly, the fire boiling through my blood sparked great fireworks across my body, and the loud, harmonic moans we were sharing rose into a twin shriek, a cry of ecstasy as the fire within me poured from my sex, and I was left, panting, exhausted, confused and looming over Sayaka, my hair tangled and loose about my shoulders as my mind finally started to come to terms with what I had done.
"Thank you, Mami-sama...~" Sayaka said to me softly, giving me a tired smile. But it was a sad one, even past the fading orgasm, and as she drifted off to sleep, doubt and horror started to eat away inside my brain.