Homura Akemi was a devil. She couldn’t think of any other title for herself. After all, what else could someone who had imprisoned God be called? Homura knew she was the devil, and beyond redemption.

Homura Akemi was on her knees, trying to stop from crying out. It was difficult, with the pain shooting through her. She bit her lip as another blow fell, jolting her body forward. Homura didn’t try to fight back or to escape. She knew she deserved this, and so much more.

Madoka stepped around her body. Standing in front of Homura, she looked down at the dark-haired girl, yellow eyes hooded. Homura didn’t meet her gaze, and just stared at Madoka’s white shoes. She knew she wasn’t worthy to look Madoka in the eyes.

“I am very disappointed in you, Homura.” Homura blushed in shame. “You took over my duties, tried to trap me in a sleeping world, and set yourself up as a devil.” It was true, all of it. “There are no words to express what I feel about you.” It had all been for her. All of it.

Madoka turned her back on Homura. She walked over to the white wall. Everything here was white. White, featureless and glowing. Items only appeared when desired, and only someone like Madoka or Homura had the power to summon the items. It was a staggeringly advanced combination of magic, science and willpower, and Madoka used it to get nipple clamps.

Madoka turned back around, holding the gilded chains and clamps in one hand. The look of dispassionate determination was a strange one on her face, not that Homura was in a position to comment on it. Instead, she swallowed nervously, dreading the approaching pain, but not trying to escape it.

But before the pain could start, Madoka had to get good access to Homura’s breasts. Reaching down, Madoka grabbed Homura’s outfit. Homura shivered underneath her touch. It was warm and soft, and Homura didn’t deserve to feel it.

Madoka ripped the black cloth off of Homura’s body. The devil stayed kneeling, shivering as her upper body was stripped. She wanted to cover her small breasts with her arms, but, with an effort of will, kept them at her side. She hadn’t been told she could move.

Homura closed her eyes as Madoka kneeled down in front of her. Pain blossomed in her nipples as the cold metal clamps closed around her sensitive flesh. She did her best to hold herself still, not wanting to upset Madoka.

When both her nipples ached, Homura opened her eyes and looked down. Hanging off her breasts were two thick clamps, with intricate golden designs on them. Stretching between them and hanging down, was a golden chain. There were at least a dozen small links.

And then Madoka held up the final attachment. Homura swallowed, eyeing it. It looked heavy, and would surely be painful, attached to the chain. It was egg-shaped, and Homura recognized it as a replica of her own soul gem, from long before.

The pain became so much greater when Madoka clipped the gem onto the chain. The flexible length of metal sagged downwards, and a pained gasp escaped Homura’s lips. It hurt, and she deserved to be hurt. Therefore, she didn’t complain, knowing that this was only proper.

Homura’s hands formed into fists as she tried to keep calm. It was difficult, and her entire body writhed as she tried to keep calm. Finally, Homura became as accustomed to the tugging pain as she could, her body mostly stilling as her mind centered itself around the burning from her rear and the pain on her chest.

Madoka nodded, slowly, as she watched Homura accept the pain. One she was satisfied that Homura had squirmed as much as she was going to, she turned away from the half-naked devil. Homura watched her back, wondering if she should reach up and massage her aching breasts. She decided not to. If Madoka wanted her to hurt, than Homura should hurt.

When Madoka turned back around, there was a new device in her hand. Homura swallowed as she looked at it. It was a dildo, and a rather big one. Not only was it long and thick, but there were bumps all along its surface. Homura wasn’t sure if she would even be able to take that in her mouth, let along anywhere else.

Madoka walked back in front of Homura, idly adjusting her white gown. Her spotless clothing adjusted, she stared down at her would-be usurper. She tapped the dildo against one hand as she looked Homura up and down.

“Get yourself ready.”

Homura nodded, her breath hitching in her throat. She loved the sound of Madoka’s voice, even without a trace of tenderness in it. This time, she did move her hands, letting her fingers slide over her thighs and down into the valley they formed.

Homura started to touch herself, her gloved fingers rubbing against her bare folds. Her outfit certainly made it easy to have sex in. And it certainly invited thoughts of sex, with all the pale skin it exposed against the black fabric.

The fire from the pain in Homura’s breasts soon mingled with the fire of lust coming out from Homura’s core. And together, they were so much sweeter than they would be separate. Homura twitched, biting back small moans as first one, then two fingers slid inside herself.

Homura kept her eyes closed. It was always so difficult to know what to think about in these times. She loved, and even lusted after, Madoka, but it felt so impure to think of her during such times. Even when she stood in front of Homura, waiting and watching her masturbate. But at the same time, Homura struggled to think of who or what else she could imagine herself with. She didn’t want to be with anyone other than Madoka.

While Homura could acknowledge that the other meguca of Mitakihara City had their own appeal, they just didn’t excite her the way Madoka did. Mami had a more well-developed figure, Kyouko would surely be more energetic in bed, Sayaka would presumably be less annoying when kissed, but Homura could never see herself with them. She wanted Madoka, only and forever.

Eventually Homura got herself aroused and slick enough without any helpful fantasies. Her shoulders were shaking as her hips twitched as her soaked gloves came away from her core with liquid arousal glistening in between her fingers. Homura looked up at Madoka, holding her hand up as proof that she was ready. Madoka nodded in acknowledgement.

“Lay down, Homura.”

Homura obeyed, resting her back against the softly glowing floor. She spread her legs wide, giving Madoka the access she would surely need. Madoka knelt down in between her knees, staring at Homura’s exposed core. Homura held her lower lips apart for Madoka’s inspection. As Madoka studied the devil’s wet folds, Homura breathed out in a soft sigh.

Homura was glad that Madoka had given her relief, however temporary and however limited. Like this, lying on her back, only the clamps tugged at Homura’s nipples. The chain, and the weight attached to it, rested in between her breasts. Even the slightly increased pain from lying on her punished rear didn’t hurt that much, not in comparison.

Homura kept the back of her head pressed against the floor as she felt something brush against her thigh. Her leg automatically twitched before she forced it into stillness. Homura could feel the toy slowly working its way up her leg. The way the bumps pressed against her promised a much more extreme pressure soon, in a much more sensitive place.

Homura’s breath came in short gasps as she felt something large and round press against her lower lips and fingertips. She bit her lip as she felt Madoka press against her entrance. Her walls resisted before Madoka applied more force. And the toy slid in.

Homura cried out, feeling herself be stretched. It was both pain and pleasure. Heaven and hell, and Homura knew both. Her legs kicked against the floor as she tried to cope with the rod slowly sliding deeper inside her. Homura’s hands stopped spreading her lips and instead grabbed her thighs, as she tried to stop her body from twisting away from the shaft spearing into her. Madoka wanted her like this, so Homura would stay like this.

That didn’t mean it was easy. Groans escaped Homura’s lips as Madoka pushed the toy deeper and deeper inside Homura. The devil wouldn’t have believed that she could have taken it inside her. But she was, even if her flower was wrapped tight around the rod. Homura thought she could feel every bump on it, every one feeling like it was the size of a watermelon.

And it still felt good, bizarrely enough. Homura never would have thought it, but her body was producing clear arousal as Madoka slid the toy inside her, lubricating it and her. It was too much. Madoka had to be almost done, the toy almost as far inside her as it could go.

Homura lifted her head, and almost fainted. Madoka only had the toy halfway inside her. There was still what seemed like yards left to push inside her. Madoka looked up from her task, her golden eyes sweeping over Homura’s face. Then she looked back down to Homura’s sacred place. She placed the palm of her hand against the dildo’s base and pushed.

“Gaaaahhh!”

Homura cried out, her head thrashing from side to side as the toy slid another few centimeters in. A few more bumps started pressing against her inner walls, sending a shock of painful pleasure to Homura’s spine.

It seemed to last forever, the slow slide inwards. Finally, as Homura’s teeth ground together and she beat her fists against the floor, Madoka stopped pushing. Almost the entire dildo was inside Homura’s stretched core. Only the very base of it poked out.

Panting, Homura raised her head to look at it. It felt so big inside her she expected to see a bulge, her stomach deforming from the monster resting inside her. But her torso was as smooth as it ever was, not a hint of what she was struggling to keep inside her.

Keep was the wrong word, really. There was no Homura would be able to push that thing out on her own. Her walls were too stretched to have a prayer of succeeding. The only was that toy was exiting her was if Madoka reached back down and pulled.

Madoka did reach down. But she didn’t pull it out. Instead, a slim finger rested on the base of the dildo. Homura waited, body tense. She didn’t know what Madoka was about to do but-!

Madoka pressed a switch at the bottom of the toy. Instantly, the dildo came to life, vibrating and humming. Homura’s back arced as the sensation instantly overwhelmed her mind. It was painfully pleasurable, and far, far more than she could handle.

Homura writhed around on the floor, limbs flailing as she tried, and failed, to cope with what was happening inside her. Madoka watched, having taken a few steps back so she wouldn’t be hit by Homura’s thrashing legs. The sensations coming out of Homura’s crotch were so overwhelming that the pain in her nipples had entirely disappeared, even as the chain tugged in them as she twisted and turned.

An orgasm overtook Homura within a minute. It was beyond pleasure, beyond pain. It was purely sensation, something so wonderful and unique there were no other words for it. Homura barked out a wordless cry as her soaked walls tried to clamp down around the toy, and as her stiff nipples pressed against the metal arms.

Finally, the orgasm receded. Receded, but did not dissipate. Homura could still feel the lust inside her, already growing again. It wouldn’t be long before she was once again driven to the heights of pleasure and pain.

Madoka knelt back down besides her. With wide eyes, Homura looked up at her. Madoka did not meet her gaze, instead staring at Homura’s flat, pale stomach. She rested a hand on the devil’s belly. And then, finally, she smiled.

“I can feel it Homura. I can feel the toy moving around inside you.”

Homura nodded jerkily. She could feel it too, though feel was too weak a word for what she was really undergoing. The vibrating was so intense Homura didn’t think that her body could handle it, that soon she must break in two. And the shattering would happen very, very soon.

Madoka stayed kneeling next to Homura for her next two orgasms, watching the black-haired devil scream out in climax until her lungs were emptied. Finally, as Homura lay quaking in the aftershocks of her last eruption, Madoka reached down between her legs. She slid a finger along Homura’s sweating skin, before running it over the part of the toy jutting out from her. She flipped a switch, and the dildo wound down. It still throbbed inside Homura’s walls, still driving her to another climax, but at a lesser rate than before.

Withdrawing her hand, Madoka looked at Homura. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips, a delighted grin that had shades of cruelty and triumph to it. It looked quite unlike Madoka’s normal open smile of happiness.

“Homura, you know what you should be doing.”

Homura winced in anticipation of the coming pain, but obeyed. Slowly, gingerly moving, she rose to her hands and knees. She gasped as the chain and attached weight once more started to pull on her nipples. The sensation, combined with the massive, humming toy inside her threatened to overwhelm her. Homura gritted her teeth and fought to stay conscious.

“Now Homura, you have been very disobedient,” Madoka said. “Making such a mess of things. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”



Homura shook her head. She knew she had upset the order that Madoka had created. And she knew it had needed to be done. Madoka hadn’t been happy with it, and that was all that mattered. Homura would do anything to make Madoka happy. From imprisoning her and stripping her of her divinity, to accepting the toy splitting Homura apart. It was all for Madoka.

Homura didn’t, couldn’t say any of this. She just looked at the glowing white floor, waiting for Madoka’s next instruction. It would probably be another spanking. Homura’s rear was still a bit sore from the one that Madoka had given her to start off the festivities, but she would accept another round.

Instead, Madoka once more stood up and walked away from Homura. She returned to the featureless wall, a chest of drawers appearing from nowhere as she approached. She stood there for a minute, glancing back and forth between Homura and the collection of devices she had stored. Finally, she made a selection and walked back to the kneeling Homura.

“Homura, we really are different beings. I am a goddess and you’re the devil. I care for everybody, you only care about me. I wear white and you wear black. The differences go on and on. Therefore,” she held her hand up, “I think the visual differences between us should be a bit more marked.”



There was a black cat earband and tailplug in Madoka’s hands. Homura knew what would happen next, even if she didn’t follow the implicit logic. Or rather, she could see the logic that Madoka didn’t even allude to. She wanted to see Homura dressed up as a catgirl, with all the talk of differences a mere smokescreen.

Homura accepted this, just like she had accepted everything else Madoka gave her. She reached up and took the earband from Madoka’s hand. It fit perfectly on her head, and coaxed a smile from Madoka as Homura adjusted it.

The tailplug took a bit more work. The plug itself was modestly sized, and couldn’t begin to compete with the massive toy still buzzing inside Homura. It was still too big to get in without lubrication. Madoka held out her other hand, anticipating Homura’s thoughts. A bottle of lube was in her palm.

Homura got herself and the toy prepared, and was soon ready. Closing her eyes, she hovered her hand behind her. She could feel the tip of the plug pressing against the tight ring of muscle. Taking a deep breath, she pushed.

The plug slid into Homura’s rear. Her toes curled as she felt it stretch her. Finally, she could feel the brush of artificial hair against her rear. It was all in. The plug was anchored inside her, the same strength that had tried to keep it out of her now keeping the toy inside her.

It felt strange, having two things inside Homura’s lower holes. She felt stuffed, even more than before. Homura had her legs spread far apart, and knew she wouldn’t be able to close them even if she wanted to. Come to it, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to stand up and walk around. If Madoka wanted her to move from her current spot, it would have to be on all fours, like, admittedly, a cat.

Madoka put on the third accessory herself. The black leather collar slipped around Homura’s neck, fastened with a steel buckle. Homura swallowed, feeling her skin press against the cool leather. There was a tinkle of a bell as she moved her head, trying to look down at the black band wrapped around her neck. Homura almost reached up to touch it, but stopped herself. She knew she truly looked like a cat now. A rare flicker of humor flashed through her mind. And now Madoka would probably want to clean her pussy. Homura just wasn’t sure what exactly she was referring to with that.

Madoka was circling around her, stroking her chin as she looked down at Homura. Homura knew she must make quite the sight. The terrifying devil, on her hands and knees, dressed up like a cat and with a toy jutting out of her private place.

There was now a chair in the room. Homura hadn’t seen it before, and thought that Madoka must have conjured it while she wasn’t paying attention. It was white, and thin. So thin Homura didn’t think that its legs could support Madoka’s weight. But the golden-eyed goddess sat down on it anyway, grabbing her skirt.

“Homura? Come over and clean me.”



Madoka lifted her skirt, revealing her bare crotch. Homura swallowed at the vision on loveliness exposed to her gaze. She tried to stand up, but two things stopped her. One was the frown that started to form on Madoka’s face. The second was a confirmation that, no, Homura couldn’t stand up with those things inside her.

Homura fell back to the floor with a whimper. Her shoulders shook as pure sensation, above either pleasure or pain, stormed through her. After a minute or so of quavering, she regained control of herself. She started towards Madoka again, this time on all fours.

It was humiliating to have to crawl, an emotional counterpoint to the physical pain Homura had already experienced. All Madoka needed to do was inflict some mental pain, and the trinity would be complete. Although Homura was unsure how Madoka would do that, unless she produced some complicated paperwork for Homura to fill out.

As Homura crawled across the room, she put some waggle in her hips. She didn’t have much to shake, but she could at least make her tail wave around. Homura really was surprised that both the ears and tail were inanimate. If their positions had been switched, she would have given Madoka accessories that responded to her mood. Instead, the black band and plug just sat there, unmoving.

Homura tried to keep her mind on getting to lap up Madoka’s flavor, instead of what she was feeling in her lower body. It was tough, keeping her thoughts on the prize, and not the buzzing, stretching distraction inside her. Very tough indeed. Halfway through her journey, Homura collapsed to the floor.

She lay there, twitching in orgasm as the toys overwhelmed her. Homura clawed at the flat floor, arms moving on instinct as her core wept tear of liquid lust. It took a long while for her to regain enough composure to start again.

Homura finally arrived in between Madoka’s legs. The goddess was already holding her skirt up, giving Homura perfect access to Madoka’s treasure. The devil didn’t hesitate, and went straight for Madoka’s sacred place. She pressed a kiss to Madoka’s core, tasting the first few hints of arousal. Homura thought that Madoka’s honey was sweeter than wine, and just as intoxicating.

Homura started to lick, her pink tongue exploring Madoka’s treasure. One of her hands was steadying herself on Madoka’s thigh, while the other had wandered down Homura’s body. That one was busy in between her legs. Homura didn’t remove the dildo plugging her, but she could still touch her nub.

Her clitoris was even more sensitive than Madoka’s, Homura found out. She did extensive tests, and found that Madoka didn’t gasp nearly as much when Homura pressed her button than Homura did when she touched herself. And since the reason for all this was about Madoka’s pleasure, Homura focused on other ways to make the goddess feel good.

One of the ways she found was by pressing her tongue in between Madoka’s folds. The goddess squirmed whenever Homura did that, once even muttering her name. That set Homura’s heart aflame, hearing Madoka breathe out her name, low and soft.

It was always a treat to be allowed to worship at Madoka’s alter. There was no better way to make the pink-haired deity feel as good as possible. Homura applied all the skill and energy she could muster, focusing on making Madoka climax.

And there was another benefit now, that only applied right here. Licking at Madoka’s folds helped Homura concentrate on something besides the humming, stretching toys inside her lower half. It wasn’t perfect, of course, Homura came once again before Madoka even had her first orgasm, but it helped.

Madoka’s cries were soft and breathy when she came. She splashed Homura’s lips and chin with her arousal, small droplets forming beads on the devil’s skin. The feelings Homura had stirred up inside Madoka were so intense that she let go of her dress, covering Homura in darkness as it fell over her head.

Homura blinked, confused. Then she mentally shrugged and went back to work. It wasn’t as if she needed light to know what to do. She had memorized every last detail of Madoka’s most precious place, after all. Her hands could be tied behind her back and she could be blindfolded, and Homura would still be sure that she could bring Madoka to orgasm after orgasm.

Today, Homura only had to do the last part of her boast, not the first. Using her tongue and fingers, she played with Madoka, bringing her beautiful goddess to climax after climax. Homura went to work with the passion of a mad woman, intent on wringing every last drop of pleasure possible out of Madoka.

And she succeeded. Time and again, Madoka cried out as Homura bore her up to new heights of pleasure. Soon, she was left slumped in her chair, head thrown back as Homura kept on licking her. Homura didn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop, not until Madoka told her too.

The pleasure wasn’t purely on Madoka’s end. Homura felt some as well, the buzzing dildo inside her driving her over the edge again and again. Due to the size of the devices, Homura’s energy was drained much quicker than Madoka’s even though she had fewer orgasms. Soon, her legs felt like jelly, and Homura knew that, even if the tailplug was removed, she still wouldn’t be able to stand up. In fact, she wasn’t sure she would even be able to crawl. The last few scraps of strength in her were all going to Madoka.

Eventually, Madoka was satisfied. She pushed Homura away, out from underneath her dress. Homura blinked in the light, slowly licking her lips as she reoriented herself. Madoka was flushed, strands of hair sticking to her forehead. She looked very, very happy though.

“Good job Homura. In fact, you did such a good job taking care of me, I’m going to give you a treat.”

Homura perked up. She had no idea what Madoka had planned, but she would gladly take anything given to her. Behind Madoka, a bed appeared. It had white pillows and white sheets and was faintly glowing in a white light. Madoka waved to it.

“Get up there, and I’ll give you your reward.”



Homura internally winced at the thought of having to move with the dildo and tailplug still inside her. But Madoka had asked something of her. What choice did she have? The weights hanging off her chest didn’t help her concentration.



Homura slowly, gingerly, crawled over to the bed. Madoka kept pace with her, looking down at the crawling cat-devil. Whatever she thought of the sight, she didn’t say.

Finally, Homura arrived at the bed. Now for the next challenge. Getting up onto it. She climbed up, her lower stomach alive with sensations as the toys shifted around inside her. Homura collapsed onto the bed, panting and hips twitching as she made it. Madoka sat down next to her, softly stroking her hair.

“Good girl, Homura. I’m glad you made it all this way.”

Homura couldn’t find the strength to nod. She couldn’t even find the strength to properly lay down on the bed, with her head on the pillow and her feet at the end. Instead, she was just curled up in a circle. She didn’t put up any resistance to Madoka running her hands over her body, limply lying there as the golden-eyed goddess adjusted her.

Homura did respond when Madoka slid her hand in between Homura’s legs. More specifically, she responded when Madoka grabbed the base of the dildo. She kept her hand there for a minute, driving up the suspense. Homura wasn’t sure what was about to happen. Was Madoka going to remove it? Turn it back up to full power? Turn it off?

In fact, Madoka did remove it. Getting a firm grip, she started tugging it out of Homura, the devil’s grasping walls only reluctantly letting go of the plastic rod. Then she stopped, the toy no more than halfway outside of Homura’s core. And then she pushed it back in.

Homura thought she was going to go insane as Madoka pumped the dildo in out and out of her. It felt, well, the way it felt was beyond Homura’s ability to describe. The steady slide in and out conjured up fresh reserves of strength in Homura, which she then wasted by having her limbs flail against the bed. Low, keening sounds were tugged out of her throat as she felt an orgasm blossom inside her.

Madoka didn’t slow down as Homura came. She kept on pushing and pulling the toy in and out of Homura’s tight, wet, grasping core. She drove Homura to orgasm after orgasm, until Homura started to see white in the corners of her vision.

Homura wasn’t terribly surprised when she passed out on pleasure and pain. Normally, she wouldn’t have been surprised because feelings of that intensity would overwhelm anyone. And right now, she wasn’t surprised because she didn’t have any mental energy left over to feel anything at all besides pure orgasm. A wave of darkness swept over her as she writhed around, underneath Madoka.

***

Homura didn’t know how much time had passed, if time even meant anything in the place she was in now. She had lain there, nursing her aches and pains. Finally, she rolled over onto her back. She looked up at Madoka, or rather, the facsimile she had constructed.

Only Madoka had the right to punish Homura for what she had done, and Madoka would never hurt Homura, no matter how much she deserved it. Therefore, Homura had to create a Madoka who would do so. It was easy enough to assemble a shell that looked like her beloved Madoka. And from there, Homura only needed to pour a bit of herself into it and she had a Madoka who would punish her in the way she deserved.

And now that Homura’s punishment was over, it was time to become whole once more. The welts and bruises on Homura’s pale body vanished as she healed herself. Then she turned her attention to the Madoka replica, patiently standing near her. With just as much effort as healing her body, Homura absorbed the fragment of herself that had been animating it.

The faux-Madoka stilled completely. There wasn’t even the rise and fall of her, or its, chest. It would remain here, in this room, even after Homura left. Because Homura knew she would surely return. What she was doing was wrong and against everything her beloved Madoka would want, but Homura wouldn’t stop. She had to protect Madoka from herself, even if it tore her up to do so.

And when the shame of what she did became too much, eating away at her heart, there would be a solution. Homura would return here, to this room, and Madoka would be waiting for her. Ready to appropriately punish her for all she did that was wrong.

It was strangely comforting to Homura, to know that her sins would not go forever unmarked or unpunished. That there was somebody waiting for her. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted? Someone to come back too.

A thin, humorless smile tugged at Homura’s lips as she left, ready to once again rule the world for Madoka’s benefit and comfort. And no matter the cost Homura paid, it would all be worth it.

Everything was worth it for Madoka.