The Management Bureau
The Management Bureau was, in name and in fact, an association dedicated to overseeing all magical girls. It was a building founded by the First Magical Girl, and even now it was home to the Manager, the man who shared her ideals. Sooner or later, every magical girl found herself entangled with the place, whether she liked it or not.
Neige was one of them — and she had been in love with the Manager for a long time, without ever being able to tell a soul.
A perfect adult. She doubted she was the only one who felt that way. He was kind, dependable, unwaveringly the same with everyone he met — the sort of man who could have stepped straight out of a subculture game as the protagonist every heart gravitated toward.
“How have you been, Neige? You look exhausted lately.”
It was the Manager, asking.
“Mm, well… I couldn't sleep very well last night.”
She couldn't possibly say the rest. That she'd had a strange dream. That her body had been burning up since morning. That simply sitting still was almost more than she could bear. That she wanted an excuse to hurry somewhere private and take care of it. How was she supposed to say that?
'…Even smiling is getting hard. Hehe.'
The Magical Girl Management Bureau operated a kind of duty-roster system, its purpose being to look after the magical girls and monitor their condition. The work itself was simple: help with the Bureau's small chores, get a routine check from the Manager, then rest for a while before heading home. Since a signed form was enough to excuse a day away from school or work, most magical girls half treated it like a vacation.
Put the other way around, though, it meant Neige was stuck spending her day at the Bureau in her current state — forced to endure a permanent fever of arousal with the Manager right in front of her.
A woman burning up from head to toe, a handsome man beside her. When a man and woman in their prime were thrown together like this, it felt inevitable that things would drift somewhere indecent.
The moment she let it show that something was wrong, it would be over. The Manager was certain to notice.
And exactly that happened.
“You really aren't doing so well, are you, Neige.”
“…Huh? Manager, what do you mean…?”
“Your face is red. You don't have a fever, do you?”
He was right.
Not a word of it was wrong. Her face, her neck, even her lower belly — everything was hot with fever. A searing restlessness boiling up from beneath her skin, driving her half out of her mind.
“It's just… I slept badly, that's all. Hehe.”
“Give me your hand.”
The Manager held out his hand as naturally as breathing. The moment Neige, dazed, placed hers in it, a shiver shot straight down her spine.
'…I'm losing my mind.'
Her pulse was far too fast. There was no way he hadn't noticed.
She forced her eyes away from his. On the desk sat a stack of paperwork waiting to be processed; beyond the window, a forest of buildings spread out below.
“If you're feeling sick, you can skip your shift. There's no reason to force yourself through it.”
'And that — that's what drives me insane…?'
How was she supposed to carry those words? That the closer she got to him, the hotter she burned, until even breathing demanded her full attention. That his rolled-up shirt cuff, his low voice, the casual bob of his Adam's apple kept snagging her gaze, and that if he were just a little gentler with her she might do something she could never take back. How could she possibly say any of that?
“I'm fine. I can handle this much. This much can't beat Neige the magical girl, haah…, right? Hihi.”
She put on a show of strength, but the moment her eyes met his, her head turned away on its own. She was already soaked down below. Her gaze kept sliding to his crotch, and she felt like she was going to lose her mind completely.
The Manager pulled his chair closer, narrowing the distance between them.
“Neige.”
Something deep in her belly fluttered. Neige clenched her fists. Her expression at least had to stay composed. Neige the magical girl was always brave, always upbeat.
But the Manager, either blind to all of it — or perhaps, in his own way, fully aware — said quietly:
“Let's take it easy today. Get some proper rest.”
'Don't melt me with words like that….'
“I'm fine—”
“You're not.”
A jolt ran through her.
Neige's whole body shivered for an instant. Her panties grew damper still. Strange images crowded in. Normally she would have only wanted to be held, to be comforted — but today, far more dangerous and unfamiliar fantasies kept raising their heads.
'Why…? Why do I want the Manager to… to handle me, roughly?'
Thoughts she had never once let herself think came flooding in, one after another — how she wanted those strong, sinewy hands around her throat, pushing into her.
'If I just went to bed with him like this, in the end it'd be me, unable to hold out, lifting my own skirt to tempt the Manager….
And then, finally, he'd give in too — looking at me, pulling out his cock. Pinning me down with force. Growling at me to stick my ass out.
Calling me a shameless little magical girl, asking if I came all this way just to seduce him, yanking my panties down rough—
Treating me like some kind of adult toy, and just like that….'
She jolted — and came, from imagination alone.
'I've lost it. Why… why…. Whyyy….'
When Neige swayed on her feet from nothing more than a fantasy, the Manager lightly steadied her. Even that small distance was enough for his body heat and his scent to hit her all at once, and she swallowed hard again.
He led her to a small break room at the back of the duty room — a simple cot meant for the Manager's own use.
“Ah—, mm.”
“Lie down.”
Neige perched on the edge of the bed, and his hand pressed her back until she lay flat. He pushed her down with such easy strength that her skirt flipped up — but by then, he had already turned away.
“Just rest for a bit. Don't worry about the work.”
“Manageeer…. This is, a little, too close, isn't it…? Hee.”
She laughed it off playfully, but she meant it.
Neige was a magical girl. She had strength far beyond an ordinary human's. If she truly wanted to, pinning this man beneath her would be no trouble at all.
So when she said it, what she was really asking was this: please, stop being so kind to me; please, don't come any closer.
Whether he was pretending not to hear or genuinely didn't understand, the Manager simply draped a blanket over her disheveled body and brushed only her hair aside, beside her ear.
“I'll grab a towel. Stay lying down.”
He returned shortly with a cold, water-soaked towel, sat on the edge of the bed, and carefully laid it across her forehead.
But the chill didn't cool her down — if anything, it made her feel the heat all the more vividly. Cold and warmth tangled together until her head began to swim.
“Close your eyes.”
“Mmm….”
“Whining won't get you anywhere. Today, all you're doing is resting. That's it.”
Only after she finally closed her eyes did the Manager rise and walk out.
The door clicked shut, and quiet settled over the room.
She pulled the blanket up. Beneath a faint scent of fabric softener, his scent was woven through it.
The body she had only ever brushed past in passing was this close now. Neige squeezed her eyes shut.
'I'm sorry, Manager.'
Her heart was pounding. It was mortifying — if she got caught, it would all be over — and yet she couldn't stop. The room was filled with too many traces of him.
'I shouldn't… be doing this….'
She couldn't bear it. Everything — the room, the heat, the ache — was pushing against her back, pressing her hand forward.
She slid her panties down. They were drenched. She had soaked through this much already? As she pulled them off, her nectar clung in a thick, ropey strand.
Her slick, glistening lower lips were already trembling in anticipation of everything that was about to happen to them.
'It's all the Manager's fault. I told you… not to tease me….'
Ssuh — breathing in his scent, she gave her clit a light, tentative touch.
“!?”
That alone arched her back high off the bed.
'Wh-what's… wrong with me…?'
With a single slow swirl of her fingertip, her lower lips rejoiced — finally, she's finally come to us, cock, welcome home.
Trembling — her hand shook. What came next was simple.
'Yes… just like those people… who were so happy under the tentacles….'
Before long, she gently slid a finger inside.
There was no resistance at all. Her waiting insides clamped down snugly around it. And that alone—
“Hnnngh…!”
—was enough to make her come.
“Ssuh, hoo. Ssuh…, hoo. Hooh…♡”
Touching herself to the scent of the man she loved. Masturbating in secret, on his very bed.
“Ngh…. Ngh, hungh, ssuh…. Hoo…♡”
Nectar gushed out of her.
'I'm not some animal in heat, so why am I marking everything with fluid…!'
Her fingers refused to stop, no matter what her mind said. All she was doing was venting everything she had held back until now.
She came thinking of that man.
She drove her fingers in while imagining being handled roughly.
She pushed in a second finger, remembering the woman called Deviluke — the sight of her sucking that man's cock, the man of Benelov.
'Why am I… imagining, things like this…♡'
She came remembering the expression on Deviluke's face.
She came remembering the blissful cries of the people caught in the tentacles.
She came remembering Mana's dazed, happy face.
And then she remembered the strange dream.
'I'm thinking of something wrong. Why — why, right in front of the Manager, do I end up loving it when that man fucks me?
Why am I — on the bed of the man I love… touching myself while thinking of someone else…♡
The Manager is right across the room…!'
She wanted to be thrust into, deep and hard. But she knew the Manager would never do that — so delusion was all she had left.
Because she couldn't hold it in anymore.
'It's fine — this is just like peeing. If you don't let it out at least once… you can't, take it, anymore….'
One justification after another. Fingers plunging, pressing, aching.
'Wow, something's — wow. Waah…. Yes, I'm just going to come, once. Coming, coming—, I'm, coming…♡'
The whole world went white.
And everything she had swallowed down came bursting out.
Release, release, release. She tensed every muscle in her body, trying to feel the pleasure crashing through her — and still wanting more, she kept stirring her fingers.
“Ngh, oh…♡ Nngh…! Ngh…! Mana…ger…♡ Ngh…!? Oh….”
She bit down on the blanket that smelled like him and came, arching her whole body to wring out every last drop of that supreme pleasure.
Spurt, spurt — she poured it all out, marking the Manager's bed with her nectar.
“Oh…h…oh.”
Her lower lips clenched down tight, again and again. Her fingers ached from the pressure, but that hardly mattered anymore.
Her body had already been swept up in an enormous climax, and a pleasant, boneless exhaustion was settling over her.
But.
'…Why.'
Her body was still burning.
'Why won't this heat… deep, deep in my belly… go away….'
She wanted to be stirred. Even as she released, she had wanted to feel satisfied.
And so, in the end, her fingers began to move again.
Straining, reaching for a place they could never truly touch.
She came again and again and again.
And she could not, not even once, be satisfied.
She looked down at her wand.