Commissioned from my good friend muk854 on Discord.
Hello, it's been a while. I wish I could say that's because I've been extremely busy (which wouldn't be completely wrong), but truthfully I just lost my writer's discipline in the transition from my old life with my family to my new one with the Air Force. One of these days I hope to get that writer's discipline back because I do love finishing stuff like this.
Today's commission is essentially a prequel to the Virtual Tickle Hell stories commissioned from horrible-Username. My friend muk, who is also a Danganronpa fan, wanted a story featuring the same villain (now known by the name "Monosapien") tickling Kyoko Kirigiri. And I was more than happy to oblige given that I already had a personal headcanon that the two have history from their lives at Hopes Peak Academy. Please enjoy the latest installment of this apparently continuing unplanned series.
A single Pewah! sound rang out, and the Monokuma's internal circuitry overloaded. "I'm dead!" it whined just before exploding as the program took control of its self-destruct sequence. Lowering her hacking gun slowly while keeping an eye on the surrounding area, the Ultimate Detective Kyoko Kirigiri approached what remained of the diabolical machine. "Just as our intel suggested," she mumbled to herself. This "abandoned" factory was within a cordoned-off area rumored to be home to a Remnant of Despair, and this confirmed it. Well, she'd found enough evidence of that even before this purple-white model had tried to ambush her. Despite the efforts of whoever lived here to make this place seem derelict, there were definitely signs that someone had been here, and very recently too.
Too recently, in fact. They were most likely still here somewhere. Was the Monokuma a diversion to cover their escape? If so, she would need to hurry; this Remnant couldn't be allowed to escape now that they'd been alerted to the fact that Future Foundation knew-
Hearing what sounded like footsteps directly behind her, Kyoko started and whirled around, hacking gun at the ready. But there was no one noteworthy there. "...Ah! A trap!" Just as she started to recover from her confusion, two more of the unidentified purple-types burst out from crates on either side of her. She rapidly swung around and blasted one, but the other was too close; she wouldn't make it in time!
Kyoko braced herself for injury or even death, but what happened in the next instant was far from anything even the Ultimate Detective could've expected. The robot's claws proved to be feathery soft. No, they were literally feathers. Probably synthetic, but feathers nonetheless. They scraped over her abdomen in a swiping motion, but instead of tearing her in half and spilling her insides, Kyoko just felt an annoyingly powerful tickling sensation and instinctively jerked away. She fought the instinct to smile and giggle, but her lips curled upward just a bit and a slight yip slipped out for just an instant before she overcame her surprise.
In the moment it took for Kyoko to regain her composure and level the hacking gun at the unknown-model Monokuma, the robot grabbed its stomach and let out a tremendously loud belly laugh. Pewah! Kyoko silenced it in an instant, but the damage was done. The Ultimate Detective knew from experience: Monokumas didn't make sounds that noisy unless they were sonic weapons… or a signal to attack.
She whirled around to start firing her hacking gun as dozens of crates suddenly burst open and swarms of the purple Monokumas popped out. Pewah! Pewah! Pewah! Pewah! Pewah! Pewah! She took out as many of them as she could, but she was Kyoko Kirigiri, not Komaru Naegi; combat against a massive Monokuma ambush was not her forte. She'd had the foresight not to go out too deep among the crates, but when she tried to turn around and make a dash for the exit, she found that many Monokumas were pouring in through it. After shooting down about 10 of the robots, she couldn't keep them at bay anymore. One of them got close enough to knock the gun out of her hand, and after that, it was over. She was rapidly pinned to the ground, and the world became a blur-a flurry of purple fluff-as the feathery claws slipped around and under her clothes and forced an unwanted smile to her lips. If it was just one or two, Kyoko could have probably maintained her composure to some degree. But this many? It was pointless to even try to resist. Her talent as the Ultimate Detective told her this was Game Over. Even so, laughing like a little girl would be the greatest humiliation for her, so she held it in and held it in and held it in as long as she could.
Then the tickle talk started. "Coochie coochie coo! Tickle, tickle! It's punishment time!" The annoyingly high-pitched, playful, despicable voice of the Monokumas was perfectly suited to this kind of torture, and it pushed Kyoko over the edge.
"Ffffffwwwwaaaaahahahahahahahaha!" She didn't give them the satisfaction of hearing her beg, but they had her laughing and she couldn't stop anymore. The Monokumas taunted her for what felt like half an hour but was probably only a minute or two, and then, one of them apparently decided it was time for a change in scenery. One of its wrists popped down, and from inside its arm, a sleeping gas sprayed directly into Kyoko's face. She had no ability to try and hold her breath with the feathers tormenting her, and fell unconscious out almost immediately...
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Even before Kyoko opened her eyes, her detective instincts rapidly got to work deducing her new situation. With her sense of touch, she immediately understood that her captors had stripped her of all clothing aside from her gloves and locked her wrists, thighs and ankles into some sort of bondage apparatus, both arms straight up, legs spread, stuck in a kneeling position with her feet face-up behind her. The fact that her gloves were still on struck her as being of note. Odd that a Remnant of Despair would choose not to compound her shame by leaving her scars on display. That could be a sign that this Remnant, evil though they clearly were, still had a bit of a conscience, and if so, they might yet be redeemable.
With her sense of smell, Kyoko understood that there was some sort of machine very nearby. There was the scent of oil and perhaps recent soldering or welding. An active section of the factory perhaps? Or a laboratory? The latter seemed more accurate given a number of other chemical smells.
With her sense of hearing, Kyoko could hear the distinctive "pwoop, pwoop, pwoop" sounds of Monokumas walking around, telling her that she wasn't alone. Well, that was hardly surprising. She'd have guessed as much even if they were completely silent. She could also hear the thrum of various machines along with occasional beeps and clicks that sounded like buttons being pushed and switches being flipped.
When the Ultimate Detective actually opened her eyes, though, she learned one more aspect of her situation that altered her deductions in a significant way. Arranged like tools for dissection in an alien spaceship were mechanical appendages poised in front of and all around her. And she could tell at a glance from the large numbers of fuzzy and buzzy-looking designs that they were probably all tools intended to tickle, just like the Monokumas. At times like this, she hated knowing that she was right.
Beyond those tools, there were several of the purple Monokumas muttering to each other, others moving around boxes and loading them onto a truck near a garage exit, a man, and a big monitor in front of her. Something started waving around in front of her face, and she heard a voice saying something irrelevant, but she brushed them off, turning her mind toward gathering as much information as she could about what sort of person this Remnant must be. She had to be ready for anything so that when the time was right, she'd be able to-
"HHHHHEEEEYYY! HELLOOOO? CAN YOU SEE ME?!"
The monitor suddenly flickered on, and there was a truly despicable sight on the screen: a man whose features had been twisted by cybernetic implants-specifically a red Monokuma eye on one side of his head and a jagged set of metal teeth on the opposite side-speaking in a clearly forced falsetto voice. Kyoko gave him a slight glare, her temper simmering coldly behind it, and calmly replied to him. "I take it you're the Remnant in charge of this base?"
"Oh finally, she speaks!" the extreme Monokuma-cosplayer shouted gleefully, completely ignoring the question. "I was beginning to think the only way to get you talking would be to start the fun. You really should learn some manners, you know? Honestly, it's rude to- Ahh, nevermind; I'm in a good mood. After all, it's been so long since we got to play together! It feels like old times! You came all this way for me? I'm touched, Kyoko, truly; you have no idea how much this means to me. It's been so incredibly long, and I must admit, it's been rather lonely. Even with milady Junko and my benefactor to keep me company, it just wasn't the same, and-"
Kyoko let him ramble at first, hoping he might spill some useful information, but instead, all she heard was garbage that made no sense, so she interrupted him in the hopes of extracting more a more coherent explanation. "...I'm sorry, but I don't recall us having met before. If it was during my time at Hope's Peak Academy, you should know Junko erased those memories."
"Ouch!" The man gripped his heart and theatrically toppled over backwards before standing right back up. "Dammit, Junko! Now I'll never know if she'd have remembered me under normal circumstances or not! It would've been such a touching reunion! ...But then again, I don't think my heart could take the rejection if she didn't, so maybe this is a nice middle ground. Very well, I'll reintroduce myself from the beginning." Smiling broadly, the man straightened to attention and then bowed as though he were an English butler. "No one ever really called me by name, parents included, so I'll just introduce myself as Monosapien, and I am the Ultimate Nobody. And of course, I know you: Kyoko Kirigiri, the Ultimate Detective. So glad you could come; let me remind you of all the fun we used to have together, okaaaayyy? I can't wait to use all my new toys on you. I've really fleshed out my arsenal since back then; I think you'll be begrudgingly impressed."
Not good. Monosapien's eagerness had spiked. Both in a desperate desire to avoid being tickled for as long as possible and to get as much information as she could, she quickly called out, "Wait! I… I don't understand. Why tickling? That's not exactly an 'Ultimate Despair' thing to do. Aren't there more effective ways to cause despair?" It was something she was genuinely confused about. Perhaps the relative mildness of this Remnant's form of torture pointed toward him having a softer heart than-
A deep-throated sneering chuckle cut off her train of thought. "Always looking to stall for time, trying to get me to talk about myself. That's so very like you Ms. Kirigiri. Do you want the list alphabetically or in order of most-to-least objective reasons or vice-versa? It really doesn't matter; you'll just forget it all again anyway. Just like last time, and the time before that, and the time before that." Kyoko noted by the way he was no longer speaking falsetto that she'd hit on something. He appeared tired, lonely, frustrated, sardonic, resigned, and full of a deep and old despair. He quickly perked himself up again, though, and chipperly continued, "But I'll indulge you a bit! Did you ever watch Naruto Shippuden? Do you remember Deidara and Sasori? The members of the Akatsuki that had a heated debate over whether true art is an explosion or something that lasts forever and ever? It's like that. Junko and I never really saw eye-to-eye. She longs for the Despair that lasts in the instant before death; the highest state of despair one can feel, the culmination of everything about to come crashing down at once, that final explosion. I, however, believe in the despair that comes with being kept alive and forced to live as a subhuman, as an object, as a toy and prolonging it indefinitely, a wall of human artwork for my globe-spanning gallery. My ultimate goal is to have all humanity trapped in tickle farms maintained by my Monofeathers throughout their natural lives. Ahhhh, it will be beautiful, truly it will, a feast for the eyes and the ears alike!"
...Ah, now Kyoko understood. In short, there was a philosophical dispute between this Despair and the others regarding what true Despair is, but ultimately, they both lived for the sake of Despair despite that difference. Similar to how a religion can have multiple different denominations but still ultimately be the same religion. They probably felt that so long as they shared mutual enemies like the Future Foundation, there was no need for minor doctrinal differences to lead to infighting. "So then, what you're saying is that in your worldview, tickling is the ideal bringer of despair because it can last forever? But what about people who aren't ticklish or who enjoy being tickled?"
Monosapien froze in an awkward pose, his flamboyant gesturing coming to a sudden halt and his smile becoming stiff. Slowly returning to a more natural position, he cleared his throat and answered, "Well, ideally, I'd like to find a way to correct these unnatural flaws of the universe. Reprogramming the brain isn't exactly easy, but it is possible. Making someone who formerly enjoyed being tickled feel despair from it instead is not too difficult for me. But as far as adjusting the nervous system goes to bring ticklishness to the unticklish… still having trouble with that one. Seems that a more full-scale genetic rewiring of both the brain and the nerves throughout the body might be necessary, and who knows how much of the original person would be left after all that. Not that I can't work with restructuring a person's entire soul for the greater good, but… that's not the kind of work I can leave to machines; it takes professionals in gene replacement, and that just… it takes too much time and manpower for each individual to be worth it overall, I fear. But! There's always the fallback plan of killing off all the black sheep and breeding those genes out of the pool, if necessary. Junko's method was crude, but I suppose it makes for a decent enough substitute for the unworthy, as they say."
Now Kirigiri was certain of it. She'd been wrong about this man. There was no redeeming him; he was so intent on bringing his tickle farm plan to fruition that he would "cull the herd" as needed to ensure that only ticklish humans even existed in the world. "I see. But-"
"Ap, ap, ap, ap, ap!" The twisted man interrupted her before she could ask her next question. "Sorry, nope, no can do. While I've enjoyed this classic interaction immensely, I cannot wait any longer. I have the Kyoko Kirigiri all tied up naked and vulnerable in front of me! We simply must get the party started soon, or I'm going to explode over here!" Monosapien emphasized the word "explode" by slamming his fist down on a big yellow button, and suddenly the monitor's image changed, showing what appeared to be a colored diagram of Kirigiri's body highlighting it based on her ticklishness. "And that's simply no good; I literally just finished explaining the whole Deidora/Sasori thing. I can't go exploding after that! I… I… ...I'm getting distracted again. Ahem. The Monofeathers earlier gave your body a very thorough mapping. Not that I didn't already have a pretty good idea on where your most ticklish spots are, but the validation feels nice, you know? Now it is scientifically proven that I know where all your tickle spots are!"
Kirigiri, though she maintained a stoic expression, blushed as she looked over the diagram. The highlighted sections… If red meant what she suspected it did, then she was more than a bit alarmed about what she was looking at for more than a few reasons. But there was no point in complaining about it. Even stalling for time was being denied her now. The only thing she could do was grit her teeth, tighten her lips, and brace for impact.
With a few more button pushes, the machine whirred to life, and several mechanical arms that were disturbingly designed to resemble Junko Enoshima's hands came forward, wiggling their sharp fingers menacingly as they approached Kyoko's armpits, ribs and feet. On the chart displayed to her, these areas were marked as yellow. Based on her best guess, that meant that these areas were ranked below orange and red and above green and blue. In other words, the analysis showed that these spots, while ticklish, were by no means her worst. Apparently, her captor intended to take their time breaking her. That suited Kyoko just fine; she had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing her laugh.
...Or so she thought. But the moment those sharp pink fingernails started scraping over her skin… "Mm!... Mmm!... Mmmm!" ...she discovered to her surprise and frustration that they tickled much, much worse than she had anticipated. Her body felt like it was on high alert, letting her clearly feel every single scratch on her soles, every dig into her ribs, every glide over her armpits. It didn't feel like "yellow level" ticklishness: it felt much, much worse.
"Ohhhh, I might have forgotten to mention! While making people who aren't ticklish ticklish is a problem I haven't figured out yet, there are many ways of making people who are already ticklish even more ticklish. And I used a few of them on you while you were unconscious. So sorry about that, I just, I couldn't resist, you know?" Monosapien gave himself a little bonk on the head and stuck out his tongue, not looking even the slightest bit cute nor sincere in the process.
Damn it! He got me! He withheld that information on purpose so he could surprise me and make it harder to hold it in! Again, Kyoko was frustrated with her powers of deduction. Knowing this in hindsight did nothing to help her at this point. She was already on the verge of laughing. She had gotten way too close way too quickly, and even opening her mouth to say something would surely have caused it all to burst out. It took all of her willpower just to pull back her cheeks from their surprised, puffed-out shape into a less embarrassing expression.
Monosapien's fake falsetto invaded her ears again while she mentally berated herself amidst her desire for the tickling to stop. "Aaanyway, tell me, do you like the hands? Design-wise, I mean, I don't expect you to appreciate what they're being used for. A fellow Despair had the insanity to go out and recover one of Junko's arms for himself, and I thought, 'Hey, she had really long fingernails, right?' I always admired Junko's fingernails; they looked absolutely perfect for my brand of despair. So I asked that comrade to let me make a good model of his new arm, and while it wasn't easy to make him agree, I put in a few good words for him with a fellow inventor of mine, and we had ourselves a deal!"
A normal person wouldn't be able to rationalize what they were hearing, especially under a situation like this. But Kyoko's mind, in an arguably escapist fashion, immediately and quickly deduced all of the fine details. Ah. He's referring to that boy we captured, Nagito Komaeda. He was with the Warriors of Hope not too long ago, so the "inventor" he's referring to was probably Monaca Towa. So that's how he wound up with that group. These pointless thoughts successfully distracted her for about two seconds, and then she was absorbed in the sensations of fingers, fingers, fingers tickling her incessantly all over again. Giggles started to slip out of her nose bit by bit, and despite herself, a smirk was slowly turning into a broad smile on her face.
"Starting to break already?" Monosapien feigned distress and turned down the intensity of the machine all of a sudden. "Oh, no, no, no, no, it's too effective. That's no good. We can't have you quitting on us before we get to your old favorite. I designed the second phase of this machine specifically around our games together."
"W-w-what are… y-y-you tahahalking about?" Kyoko managed to glare out a response as the fingernails slowed to a gentle crawl. There was no real point in asking, she knew, given that Monosapien was going to show her anyway, but keeping him nostalgic seemed to be the only way to stall for time.
It didn't work in this case, however, as Monosapien simply grinned broadly and spoke in tandem with a dramatic button push. "It means this!" Several more mechanical arms moved. These ones were all tipped with long, stiff black feathers. Something about them tugged at Kyoko's mind briefly, but when she saw where they were headed-her chest and feet-she quickly became far more concerned about that.
Kyoko braced herself for impact again as two feathers hovered in front of her nipples, but on an uncharacteristically illogical intuition, she sensed the attack would come elsewhere first, and just barely managed to restrain herself to mere giggling when the first feathers slipped over her neck from behind. "Oho! Impressive!" Monosapien cheered, sounding genuinely giddy. "That used to always catch you off guard. Maybe you do remember the good old days with Blackie? Ahh, I miss Blackie. You burned him up, you know. My own fault really; I shouldn't have left him lying in the music room that day. But it's all good; now I have a whole army of Blackies to tickle you with! Hey, you never did tell me which one you hated most. Come on, you've got to let me know; I've been dying to find out where Blackie tickles you best for years."
Blackie. The name didn't ring any bells, per se, but Kyoko was already learning to hate it. The ones slipping over her neck were annoying enough, but on top of that, two more started sliding between her toes, and right as she started to feel like she wouldn't be able to hold back much longer, the two taunting her from the front finally decided it was time to tease her irritatingly erect nipples, forcing her to feel other sensations she didn't want to feel in addition to simple ticklishness.
"Mmmmmaaaahahahahahahahahaha! Dahahahahamnihihihihihit!" Kyoko couldn't hold it in any more as the multiple Blackies teased these sensitive spots. But even then, she still had the observation skills of the Ultimate Detective and saw the way the machine immediately reacted to her laughter, bringing a speaker that would undoubtedly make some sort of unpleasant sound up close to her ear.
Once again, she was frustrated to be right. The speaker started taunting her with a series of basic tickle-teases on loop. "Coochie coos" and "tickle tickles" mixed with the occasional reminder that she was soooo ticklish or that she get away or that she was going to be tickled foreva. And the worst part was that the voice-the grating, ear-rapingly annoying voice-coming out of the speaker was a perfect likeness of Junko Enoshima's, giving it a perfect blend of playful mischievousness and bottomless malevolence. It had all the mercy of a cat toying with a mouse, seemingly genuinely thinking that keeping Kyoko as a tickle toy for eternity would be the most fun thing in the world.
Kyoko expected the machine's creator to feel the same way, but the next words out of his mouth sounded half-genuinely disappointed. "My goodness, I don't remember the great and logical Ultimate Detective Kyoko Kirigiri being such a pushover. Don't tell me married life has weakened your willpower? Maybe that 'Ultimate Hope' boy has been tickling you a little bit in bed? Lucky bastard…"
The jealousy in Monosapien's voice, especially the last two words muttered in his unfalsified, non-falsetto voice, was not lost on Kirigiri. It gave her a gross feeling, as if an ice cube had crawled up her spine, and she grunted and glared through the laughter until she brought her voice enough under control to spitefully respond, "Makoto ihihihis… Nng! Makkkoto is a thousand times the mahahan you'll… ev-er… behehehehehehehehahahahah!" Logically, there was no good reason to antagonize her captor, and she knew it. But the fact that this despicable Remnant of Despair was jealous of Makoto drove home the nastiness of his obsession with her in a way nothing else so far had. She could keep her cool if it was just about how creepy he was toward her, but she couldn't help snapping back the moment her husband was brought into it.
Monosapien was silent for a few seconds, his face blank and unamused. Then it twisted into a wide smile, and he let out a loud belly laugh. "AHA! So you do still have some strength left in you! That's good, that's good, that's very, very, very, very, very good! But a thousand? Oh, the pain, the pain, that's such an insult! Do you really think so little of me? I'm much worse than that, you know?" After delivering his punchline, he laughed long and loud again and patted himself on the back for making such a clever joke. Aside from Kyoko, there was no one else in the room laughing, of course, not even the Monofeathers which all seemed to intentionally avert their gazes away as if cringing, making it look like the pathetic antics of a true loner rather than a diabolical mastermind. Wiping away fake tears from his eyes, Monosapien rubbed his hands together above the control panel for the machine. "Oh, I tell ya, seriously though, that's not really a joke. I mean, we haven't even started phase 3 yet. Now it's time to break you for real!"
Suddenly, Kirigiri felt a pair of cold hands grab her buttocks. Her eyes widened as they spread her cheeks at a steady, slow, mechanized rate until her crack was well exposed. At the same time, Monosapien stepped aside to allow one of the Monofeathers to approach Kirigiri and take up position between her legs, its feathery claws waving menacingly as if to say, "You know what's coming next." Which to her horror… she did. She didn't need her Ultimate Detective skills to figure that out. "No. Nohoho. N-n-n-noHOHOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOHOHOHOHOHOP!" Kyoko shook her head wide-eyed at the approaching feathers, but there was nothing she could do to stop them from tickling her most intimate areas, one slipping into her behind and two more sliding over her pussy lips.
The madman cackled at her distress and gloated again. "Yes, yes, that's it! That's the Kyoko Kirigiri I've always loved to torment! Ahhh, still so very, very ticklish in such naughty places! I mean, of course I already knew that; we performed tests to verify your tickle spots beforehand, but it's still so satisfying to see it." He rubbed his hands together, practically drooling as he watched her suffer. "And… you still seem to love those feathers as much as you always did. Hehehe, you've always been such a deliciously dirty tickle toy, Miss Ultimate Detective."
Dirty? It was true. As ashamed as she was to acknowledge it, the feathers were doing more than just tickling her. Kyoko could feel the waves of sexual pleasure assaulting her mind in spite of her situation. She hated it, that someone other than the person she loved could make her body react this way, but that hatred did nothing to make the feelings subside, and with the torturous ticklings forcing her to laugh and laugh and laugh, she didn't have any spare willpower to try and resist the growing arousal. "AHAHAHAHAHAHA! N-AHH! HAHAHA! N-N-NAHAHAHAHHH!" Her attempts to complain were drowned out both by laughs and moans, and her hips started instinctively moving, not in an escape effort, but a very lewd manner instead. Even now, with her ability to react shut down and her mind overwhelmed by the sensations, being the Ultimate Detective meant that Kirigiri was cursed to be fully consciously aware of everything. Every single touch, every single taunt, every single ounce of her captor's cruel, lewd gaze. She hated it all, but her attention to details mixed with the sensations and played tricks on her, making it all feel arousing.
It was almost like a form of Stockholm Syndrome. Because Kirigiri was turned on, she was especially able to notice everything about the situation that could be considered arousing. Because she was being tortured, she was especially inclined to notice all of the things about this situation that added to her torture. And because her emotions were so addled by all of the stimulus, she couldn't separate them properly, and yet still, she was even cursed to be aware of that fact-the fact that these contradictory feelings had essentially become truly masochistic in nature. It was almost as if she were having an out of body experience: the Ultimate Detective was analyzing the plight and sensations of some other person possessing her skin, but that other person was still, unfortunately, her. At the end of all these deductions was the disgusting yet inescapable fact that this growing need for more punishment was a need that she herself was feeling.
As if reading her mind, Kirigiri heard Monosapien's voice replace Junko's teasing taunts next to her ear. Oh, he's speaking into a microphone now, she vaguely understood as he whispered sensually into her brain. "Yes, that's right. You might as well stop fighting it. You can't. You never could. You're hardwired for this. A perfect tickle toy. Cum for me, my dear, like the tickle toy you really are." At the same time, two of the Monofeathers's feathers, one black and one white of course, started tickling either side of her clit. The combination was too much for the Kyoko, and as she experienced what felt simultaneously like the strongest orgasm of her life yet at the same time an incredibly nostalgic and familiar one, she even briefly-very briefly-entertained the thought that maybe… maybe being trapped here… wasn't completely bad after all.
This thought was wiped away in the next instant due to several things overlapping at once. One was a sudden image of Makoto appearing in her mind as she came down from her orgasm, dulling whatever enthusiasm had been forced into her and filling her instead with shame. The second was the horrific realization that even though she'd already cum and was absolutely not ready to do so again, the tickling wasn't slowing down at all. And the third was Monosapien's next words…
"Well, I dearly hope you enjoyed that, precious… because it was the last orgasm of your life."
The Remnant of Despair's face twisted into a nightmarishly evil smile, his one red eye glowing brightly as he spoke, as if feeding on the power of despair itself. Whether this was a theatrical effect meant to scare her or merely a program intended to reflect his emotional state, Kyoko didn't know, but the joyful malevolence radiating from the cyborg was undeniable. "You see, the first time was for old time's sake. That and, well, let's call it a taste of what you could have if I allowed it. But no more; let me introduce you to my simplest and most elegant torture device."
Monosapien pushed a big red button with a picture of Monokuma on it, and a red gas started spraying out of a nozzle above Kirigiri's head. Laughing as hard as she was, it was impossible for the platinum-haired woman to avoid breathing it, especially since the tickling paused just long enough for her to suck in a desperately needed lungful of air. The gas didn't seem poisonous and faintly smelled like cinnamon, but she highly doubted it was designed just to provide a pleasant scent. In fact… if her deductions based on Monosapien's words just now were correct… Kirigiri cursed her talent for the thousandth time that day, as all the hands and feathers started to close in on her yet again.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Time passed after that. How much time? Even the Ultimate Detective didn't know. She'd been put through a cycle of tickle torture, eating and sleeping for long enough that she'd lost track. If it was two sessions each day, she might have an educated guess, but she had a nagging suspicion that her captors had intentionally been mixing up the order of events each day to mess with her perception, to the point that her sleep schedule felt erratic.
Whenever she wasn't actively being tortured or unconscious, there was a powerful, nagging need filling her mind. It was constant and unchanging even while she was eating and it prevented her from sleeping via any means other than just losing consciousness due to exhaustion. This pestering sexual need in her vagina nagged and nagged and nagged at her mind until she couldn't help fingering herself in the hopes of finding release in an orgasm. But she never did. Something was preventing that.
There was a mechanical belt wrapped around her waist anytime she wasn't actively being tormented, and that belt was constantly monitoring her condition. Every time Kyoko felt like she was on the verge of an orgasm at last, the gears within the belt would start turning and several mechanized arms would sprout from it. The first thing they would do is grasp her wrists and pull them away, leaving her right on the edge, frustrated and furious. The second, of course was start to tickle her. They tickled her armpits, her ribs, her sides, her feet… but annoyingly enough, never her erogenous zones. It tickled and tickled and tickled until her arousal had dulled from its near bursting point back down to an annoying throb, and then tickled a bit longer for good measure before deactivating and returning to dormancy.
Kyoko had long since realized the futility of trying to fulfill this need. It simply wasn't going to happen. If she went faster, the belt would activate quicker. If she went slower, the belt would wait until she was closer to the edge before attacking. Even if she tried changing speeds at the last possible second, it seemed to somehow anticipate the timing just right. Yet in spite of the clear inevitable outcome each time, Kirigiri kept giving into the temptation to try again and again and again. Why do this? The dull ache was surely better than the inevitable denial and tickling. Logically, she understood that, so why did she keep giving into this temptation? Maybe some stubborn part of her thought that if she kept trying, she could finish before the belt stopped her, or maybe a part of her was starting to crave the tickling itself; even Kyoko wasn't sure. Much as it pained her to admit it, her sessions in the torture device were becoming the closest thing to pleasure she had, so it wasn't implausible she had been thoroughly Stockholm Syndromed. But she didn't want to believe that, so she chose to believe she didn't know the answer.
After all, it wasn't as though she'd given up on escape. To be sure, her investigations of her cell, the hallways, and the torture chamber she was usually taken to hadn't yielded any signs of an escape route. But that didn't matter. The Future Foundation was still out there, and so was Makoto. As long as she didn't let them break her, she would surely be saved eventually. That was why she chose to believe she didn't know. She wouldn't break. She couldn't break. Makoto was still waiting for her to come back, so she held onto that last shred of hope and refused to believe she had broken just yet.
So she lay there in her cell, desperately repeating to herself that Makoto was coming, again and again like a mantra to distract herself from the need, not even realizing that she was already subconsciously reaching her hand toward her pussy to slide her fingers inside and start again. The cell doors flew open, however, and a Monofeather slipped inside, it's paws "ploop, ploop"ing against the floor as it waddled over to her. "IIIIIITTTT'SSSS PUNISHMENT TIIIIIME!" it cheers robotically with its underdeveloped AI and prerecorded voice, raising its arms in apparent celebration. Kyoko sighs and stands up. She's not restrained in this cell. There's no need. She is naked and alone with no resources. She can't escape with what she has and they know it. There's no point in resisting the routine of going out to her tickle machine when ordered. It would just make the ordeal worse for her. So she obediently follows the bear, a part of her secretly hoping that maybe today would be the day her former stalker would decide to have mercy and let her orgasm again, but that seemed unlikely given that he hadn't shown up at all for several days now...
After Report
Kyoko was rescued a few days ago by Future Foundation operative Byakuya Togami and a few lower ranking agents. She then informed her lover and coagent Makoto Naegi, who was searching for her in a different location, that she was "Safe and unharmed." Though he seemed unconvinced at first, Kyoko insisted, and also punched Byakuya for some reason when he seemed about to interject.
Immediately following, Makoto declared his intent to go to Jabberwock Island, where their unauthorized decision to save over a dozen captured Remnants of Despair had backfired spectacularly. To clarify, the Neo World Program intended to remove their brainwashing seemed to have been hacked by a computer virus. Despite this, Makoto brazenly declared his intention to dive into the program himself to fight the virus and rescue the survivors and his hope that Byakuya and Kyoko would join him. He then ended the call before they could object further. Makoto is to be judged for his actions at a later date.
Kyoko has since given private testimony to a counselor regarding her traumatic experience which has been classified and reviewed only on a need-to-know basis. Her statement of a former Hope's Peak student with the talent of "Ultimate Nobody" has led some to suspect this individual might be responsible for the hacking of the Neo World Program given the cyber attack occurred on the inside, yet none of the captured Remnants had any time or opportunity to do it and no potential traitors have yet been identified. As our investigation has hit a standstill, we have no choice but to order the Ultimate Detective to fight through her trauma, find this maniac, and bring him to justice. This in spite of both her ordeal and whatever judgment may soon be handed down to her beloved for his crime. May whatever gods still remain in this world forgive us.