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The first touch is at her hips, hands holding her down. More grip on her shoulders, stroke her arms, or squeeze her thighs.

The magical girl's breaths come out hotter than before.

They handle her, intending ot do such lewd things, yet she cannot hate them for it. She specifically asked for this.

The smooth and rough strokes of hands and fingers lead to the next wave as soft lips press her flesh–at her sides, her butt, and over her nipples. She gasps, pushing her chest out. But even as her mouth opens, another meets her lips, invading her with their tongue.

Tears roll down her eyes, but they are not of fear, sadness, or anger but of sheer emotional stimulation. Her body shakes. She accepts that invading tongue, clumsy and plodding around her mouth and down into her throat. She tangles hers along with it, running her muscle along the nameless individual's wriggling meat, offering them an unforgettable experience even in her own most embarrassing situation.

And where was the deceitfully dashing hypnotist during this pile of warm bodies? She cannot tell as they crowd around her, seemingly able to allow faces and mouths and lips to caress and kiss and lick.

Two fingers slide between her legs, pushing against her lips, penetrating her. Are they both from one unskilled lover, or were two separate people delving into her depths? She cannot tell; a moment later, her other entrance is penetrated by a warm and wriggling tongue.

Her face burns as she cries out into the tongue in her mouth, her voice muffled but not as the one kissing her pulls away. She screams, attempting to restrain herself. The only thing that abates her moans is another tongue, tasting of sweet delight, that finds its way into her mouth.

Tongue and fingers dance within her as lips wrap around her clitoris, kissing and licking at her button, while more fingers pinch at her nipple and more tongues dance together to slurp at the other.

During this whole endeavor, something rises within her mind: a promise she made, no, a command given to her. She would reveal her deepest secret, her entire identity, once she succumbs to her greatest pleasure.

That she cannot allow!

And so, she endures the bliss, even as more appendages find ways to touch and caress her. There is a gamut of pleasurable sensations, more and more arriving to do more and more things to her. One set of hands strokes down over her legs and past her ankles. There, they find the soles of her weary feet, rubbing the thumbs against the ball, up and down, up and down, making her curl her toes as tension disappears.

Another set slides up and down her sides, feathery tickles shifting over her skin like fairy touches that hardly press against her. Every pore and follicle they pass sends a ticklish sensation to her, making her writhe and spasm, but other hands hold her down. Only the lover who shares her mouth at the time receives the full impact of the giggles that bounce up from her throat.

Lips kiss her shoulder and down over her arms and up her sides, around her breasts, and even up underneath her arms, making her try to push herself together into a scrunched-up ball. All the others spread her out, pin her against her post, and invade her deeper and deeper.

She isn't going to last much more without being broken. She has to do something, but all she can do is reciprocate the delight.

TING

The most recent mouth leaves her lips, and she can finally speak with them vacating her with a string of spit bridging between them.

“Please," she gasps, her voice strained and holding back all the moans of delight and surprise, “Please, r-remember your decency. I can't...I can't be allowed to… to climax!"

TING

There is the simplest of hesitation among the probing party, her body drenched in kisses and licks, her legs soaked with her own desire, awaiting the final deluge of delight.

“You have…to listen…" she pants. “You're…you're under his sway…but…but you can control yourselves…you can stop…at any…time…."

Is that really true, though? Is that how his hypnosis works?

TING

“How astute of you to realize they, too, are under my hypnosis", Mesmer says, reentering her perception, “But that knowledge won't help you so long as your desires rule. Now, my dear, release and expose yourself fully. Ripping free your identity shall be the ultimate in exhibitionist delight!"

TING

TING TING TING!

The ringing strikes the cobbled street by Purity's boot-clad feet, which makes the magical girl realize that she isn't standing upon the wooden gazebo, but still in that alleyway where she had cornered the nefarious hypnotist Mesmer. The participants in her orgy of delight disappear almost immediately after, leaving her to fall upon her knees in a sweaty, panting mess.

A whipping chain lashes out right where Mesmer is standing. Still, the larcenous illusionist hops out of the way, cursing, “Not another one!"

Purity picks herself up, climbing up against the wall, one arm covering her breasts. She stares upward, seeing a feminine figure silhouetted by the setting sun, chains floating around her as she stands on a rooftop.

“Blast it all," Mesmer sneers. “You were almost there, Purity!"

The chains strike out, but he nimbly dodges again. “I have understood you, mind, body, and soul! You mustn't forget what you truly want, my dear!"

“Give it a rest, showman," the mysterious newcomer shouts from the rooftops. “Your final curtain call dropped a while ago, and no one's asking for an encore!"

“Perhaps not now," Mesmer replies, “But a good performer knows when to end the show with a bang!"

Before either of the girls can react, Mesmer tosses a smoke bomb.

Purity, unchained by his hypnotic shackles, rushes through the smoke, reaching out to grasp him but only catching a wisp of vapors. She coughs, stumbling through the remnants of the getaway, beginning to step out into the street beyond.

A chain wraps around her naked waist, and the mysterious newcomer yanks her back into the alleyway and towards the roof.