#muse;multi

[illusionaryrules]

‘*’ (Pick a boy for me ;D)

Send ‘*’ to kiss my muse full on the lips. 

Neitherof the rookie mages could move even a muscle, try as they might to struggleagainst the velvety yellow ribbons. Both were wrapped securely, covered inribbons… and absolutely nothing else.

"Homura,do you, uh, remember the safeword?"

Theglasses-wearing nerd attached to Yukiko's backside, and enjoying how soft andgenerous it was, turned an even more pale shade of white. His appearance wasusually some mixture of wimpy and sickly, he was a twig of a man; Yukikoherself was far more hale and hearty than her most unlikely friend. "Ith-thought you were the one who came up with it, Yuki."

"Thatdoesn't mean I remember it!"

Mami let out a deep sigh and reclined in his chair. "You two need torelax and loosen up a little. It's 'arsene', try not to forget again or I'llget worried." While the rookies in his tender care only had some ribbonsto cover themselves, and those same ribbons bound them securely, Mami had on a simplebutton-up shirt, vest, and slacks. He wouldn't have looked out of place in anybusiness meeting-room, aside from a stylish beret topping his messy, curlyblonde hair.

Thatberet held a gem more priceless than anybody could know, a shining gem free ofblemishes or imperfections.

"Well,neither of us have ever done. Any of this." Being bound by the expert handsof an older man sent thrills down Yukiko's spine, and warmed her thighs andmade her want to rub them together. Even that was impossible, leaving her withjust the aching, lustful need. She cast intense eyes up at Mami, who circledaround until he was face-to-face with Yukiko. Over a great height difference,which he soon bridged by crouching down. “So you’d better impress me.”

“I’ll do my best,” Mami assured her, eyes closed and mouth curved upwards. Shedid her best to give him a defiant glare. His quiet, confident smile wasenough to put some real annoyance into her acting. Yukiko was going to give oneof her biting remarks about his technique, or ask him to tighten things up onher wrists or something, when instead, Mami moved forward. Taking her openmouth as an invitation, he kissed her, deep and hard. Forcefully taking hermouth made her moan into his; her eyes fluttered closed, and she unconsciouslypressed her bare chest out further, towards him like an offering.

Hetasted impossibly sweet; it wasn't something Yukiko was expecting from somebodyof his stature and build. It brought back memories of lovely delicacies; a cake,most especially. Yukiko thought, in the back of her mind, that he must haveeaten a lot of sweets to get that kind of thing in his mouth on a permanent basis.It mixed with the natural sensations of kissing a boy, something the wildcollege girl knew a thing or two, or a hundred, about. Like everything Mamidid, other boys had done it, but none with such a convincing attitude andfollow-through.

Itbeat her last experience with actual ropes, which just left her sore and disappointed.Whatever was going to happen to Mami's two underclassmen now, it certainlywouldn't be boring for anybody involved. He proved that, and how far he waswilling to go, when he finally slipped off of Yukiko's lips, leaving her wantingmore… before crossing over to the other side, and doing something. Yukikocouldn't actually see what, but she heard Homura's muffled protests melt intoshameless moans of pleasure. Still muffled, probably by Mami's own mouth.

Themere idea of what those two boys, her boys, were doing right behind her ownback was enough to just drive her crazy. The tension and sliding of ribbons onher inner thighs teased something more, but they were just shy of rubbinganything important. Each one had been placed with the greatest care andattention to detail by Mami… and Yukiko's odds of escaping were zero.

Notthat she, for one second, would have thought of getting away from this. It waseverything she'd been waiting for. Although she had been nervous at the time,she now didn't regret her decision to become a magical girl one bit.

[illusionaryrules]

You Don’t Know Anything

Next morning, Homura was gone. 

Only hazy, drunken memories of their night were left.

Well, there was one other thing. Although the clothing he'd tossed aside had otherwise vanished, that grey hoodie remained. It was neatly folded on the corner of a very messy bed. Two bits of paper were with the hoodie; one half-inside the pocket, one folded neatly on top of it. The one on top was a note, unsigned and undated. The handwriting was neat.

"One day soon, you're going to make a critical decision. When you get there, please remember one thing. You're beautiful how you are. Don't try to change for anybody, even if the world feels like it's ending around you. If you change, you'll lose everyone and everything you care for."

The second paper revealed itself when unrolled and smoothed out. It was a sketch of Homura himself. Of course, they'd only met that night, and Yukiko was too busy drinking and fucking to take even a messy sketch. Yet, it sure seemed like Yukiko's own style; same paper, same penciling, and in a similar style to sketches of a certain jock that could be found lying about.

Yukiko had even, apparently, signed and dated it as St. Valentine's Day. Although right under it was, also in her messy handwriting, 'I think, like it fucking matters, just take the gift you nerd.'

[illusionaryrules]

Do You Value Your Life?

A club sitting unsteadily on the line between shady, seedy, and upscale, nestled right among the city lit up at night, held a certain strange appeal. College students in particular from the University at few blocks distant found their way here; they were experiencing new worlds, branching out, exploring, and making poor decisions.

There was little doubt Yukiko would be familiar with this particular club. At her entry, the pounding, nearly-deafening music from the dance floor, and the chaotic lightshow, washed over her. The sights and sounds of the club attacked the senses, blunting and dulling in much the same way the drinks at the bar would.

Sitting at that bar, among others, was a boy with quite long, black silken hair. Compared to that, his grey hoodie and pants looked very common, and clashed a bit with showier outfits from the other guests. Unlike the other guys nursing drinks on their own, his striking purple eyes weren’t scanning the dance floor or seats for ladies. He didn’t look around at all, like the world was so predictable that, even when he got a new drink or a girl said ‘hi’, his responses were automatic, robotic. Practiced.

He’d stick out to close inspection, but in the dim and sporadic lighting of the club, he was just another figure, among many; countless writhing bodies, some dancing, others just teasing each other with their bodies, while he sat there.

The boy that Yukiko was far more likely to take note of was almost running to keep up with her; the college athlete could manage it without huffing and puffing, but Yukiko’s roomate still found himself gasping. HIs reaction to the whole club was far different, as if he’d never set foot in a place like this before. Shuu dressed that way, too; a jersey, to go clubbing. Well, Shuu would have probably worn a jersey or sweatshirt to his own funeral.