9 - Mukuro Ikusaba - Public Spanking

"Is it really okay for me to graduate? Sometimes I feel like the years here at this Academy have been a dream... And because it's just a dream, not reality, graduation is the end. After that, I'll wake up, on another battlefield. Isn't there something I need to do before then?"

Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier, leaned against a second story window as she spoke. School had just let out for the day, and the sun was beginning to set. She looked exceptionally pale in contrast to the colorful light behind her, as though it wasn't capable of reaching her. Although she'd asked her classmate the question, she turned her back and gazed outside, clearly not expecting him to have a response.

In contrast to most other students at the Academy, Mukuro's uniform was hardly customized, with a plain white button-up, a drab bolo tie and similar skirt. Her short, dark hair and relatively plain, lightly freckled face could similarly be seen anywhere across Japan... The face, in particular, because she had a very similar face to her fraternal twin, Junko, who was known as the Ultimate Fashionista. Other than that, however, the two were night and day, at least in terms of appearances.

Mukuro was unassuming, and she intended to go through her school life alone. She had left one assignment to come here, and once she was released, she had no imagination for what came next. Some other battlefield, either taking secret orders from her sister or keeping her skills sharp waiting for them. She'd ducked conversations as easily as she dodged bullets, and so she'd gone through her education barely talking to anyone.

Makoto Naegi was the one exception: he was an entirely ordinary student, plain enough so that there was no intimidation in engaging with him, but outgoing enough to make the effort. Mukuro wasn't easy to talk to, and Makoto still wasn't fully aware of what she'd done before the Academy, nor what she intended to do after. Still, he was fit enough to serve as a sounding board for her vague, grey thoughts, so she regularly indulged... even if she wasn't sure why he subjected himself to them, when there were people like idols and celebrities all over the school that seemed to want his ear, as well.

The young man walked up next to her without a second thought. He leaned against the glass in a cool pose that didn't suit him, just because that was the only way he could easily face her. Even after he did, he was silent for a moment, working his perfectly ordinary brain to try and come up with a response. "... Pain. You can't feel pain in a dream, right? But I've seen you in pain, developing your talent here."

"Pain?" Mukuro asked with genuine surprise, although that didn't reflect on her even face. "Sorry to say after you tried so hard to sound cool, but the stuff I've done here doesn't qualify as pain."

"Sure it does! I mean... I know, for uh, a soldier, it's probably not danger, exactly... But I know your talent development program was tougher than anyone's! You were running obstacle courses, studying weapons, taking tests on strategies, all of that stuff, right? So you've sweat for it, and I think you've got every right to graduate with the rest of us."

Mukuro sighed, running her hand through her dark hair moodily. "The way you say all of that with so much pep... Have you even given a thought to what it means for a student to be learning about those things? What being an 'Ultimate Soldier' implies? Even if I leave here, there's only one future waiting for me-"

"Then change it!" Makoto urged her, grabbing her hands without thinking. Even when she flinched under his grasp, he continued with urgency. "My own life changed because of the things I did here. It wasn't easy for me either, you know? Being surrounded by so many amazing people... And when I graduate, who knows if I'll do something amazing or go back to being an ordinary guy? But what I do know is that nothing's set in stone. I'm not amazing because someone told me I am, but if I work hard, I bet I have potential to do something great. I'm sure it's that way for you, too. You can't stop thinking about what you want to do with your life. I'm sure you're going to do something incredible, too, and not just what someone orders you to."

The soldier's eye twitched uncomfortably. She was only halfway listening to the hope-filled rambling Makoto was going on about. Instead, she was wondering how she let herself be caught and **** to listen to this in the first place. She had the reflexes to dodge it if she wanted to.

Maybe there was a part of her that wanted to listen to Makoto? To believe that after she graduated-

"Attention, students! I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Doing just that, the half-white half-black headmaster of the school popped out of nowhere, sliding between the two of them and breaking their awkward hand-holding.

"Nope, nothing at all!" Monokuma declared for himself, standing up. "After all, funny business is prohibited inside the hallowed halls of this educational institution. You're graduating in like a week, right, Mr. Naegi? Kids these days... You know, when salmon get all hormonal, they look really scary! Humans are exactly the same way, so don't act like you've got nothin' but pure intentions now, my Ultimate Lucky-Getting student."

"Huh? No, nothing like that. Mukuro and I were just talking."

"Foreplay, huh? I get it. It looks like it takes a lot to get her in the mood. Good luck, buddy. Setting that aside, on a completely unrelated note, about that graduation. I have an important message for our soldier here! Ms. Isukaba, our staff has been reviewing our records and, unfortunately, you are NOT qualified to graduate. I wanted to come and tell you in person! Sorry about all that 'hope for the future' nonsense you were goin' on about, but truth is, you're either repeating a year or leaving here without a diploma, the first ever drop-out of Hope's Peak. Unless... No, I shouldn't say it. Giving people false hope is too cruel! The last thing I'd ever want to do is get a student's hopes up, only to dash them on the jagged rocks of despair."

The soldier, who'd been looking rarely vibrant a moment ago, was now fully returned to her morose default, her mouth set in a grim line. Junko must have some plan for her, after all... One that had nothing to do with graduating from the Academy and deciding her future. Still, she decided to ask. "Quit beating around the bush. There's one way for me to graduate this year, right?"

"Well, sure, but it's just really, super terrible!" Monokuma added with a shiver. "Y'see, the school board was reviewing, and we came to the decision there's one part of being a soldier you never experienced: resistance to ****. You were supposed to be tested for your ability to resist severe physical and emotional punishment. Unfortunately, because you're just such a cutie-patootie and a little beam of sunshine, none of our staff ever felt comfortable exposing a poor, frail young lady like you to something so terrible... But I'm not like that, of course! I care about you! I want you well-prepared for the scary outside world. So, I raised a stink about it, but the only decision we could come to is that in order to get your missing credit for your entire enrollment, you'd need to experience something both painful and humiliating, enough to count for several sessions' worth all at once. And since I'm not allowed to do anything super-painful to you-- heaven forbid!-- it'd instead have to be a little painful, but a lot humiliating. So, you see, that's why-"

"Enough," Mukuro interrupted him. Anyone who'd seen Mukuro before today would probably have guessed that she was just tired of listening to him; that she now understood it was impossible, and she'd let herself be pushed around if that was what her sister wanted. Instead, there was something new in her eyes when she opened them and trained them on the bear. "Get on with it. I'm a soldier; I can handle any kind of punishment. Just because you teachers dropped the ball with training an important aspect of my talent doesn't mean I haven't trained myself privately. I'm ready for anything. Give it to me, I'll blow through it, and prove I'm strong enough to finally live life on my own terms."

"... Huh?" Monokuma tilted his head. He seemed shocked for only a moment, although it was hard to tell on his doll-like half-grin. Instead of congratulating her on her newfound confidence, he let his next two words hang in the air. "Public spanking."

Makoto gasped and began to protest, but Mukuro only gave the bear a severe glare.

"I said public spanking! In front of all the reserve course students. Truth be told, this was my two-salmon one-stone approach to giving them a nice end-of-the-year treat. Even totally unremarkable guys need a little treat to keep on living! Isn't that right, Mr. Naegi?" He didn't pause for Makoto's response, turning back to Mukuro with an intensity that seemed to match her own. "Well, I didn't think you'd dive into the rapids with both feet, but I guess smarts were never your strong point, huh, Sister?" he guffawed. "Still, there's one thing you should know: I'll be administering the punishment myself. I'm not known for holding back, upupupu!"

Makoto couldn't believe what he was hearing. He'd been the one encouraging Mukuro a moment ago, but he had no idea he'd be pushing her into something like this. "N-no! No, there has to be something else Mukuro can do, right? In the first place, I heard she's an incredible soldier who's never been hurt on the battlefield! Why does she need to go through **** training if she can just... always escape the enemy?"

Mukuro clicked her teeth, keeping her eyes on Monokuma as she spoke to her classmate. "It's not like that, Makoto. No matter how good or lucky you are, your luck runs out eventually. Monokuma's right that a soldier needs resistance. If this is what it takes to graduate, I'll... I'll... Tch!" Suddenly, she seemed to lose her nerve. She cast her head down and her eyes aside. "N-no, I don't think... there's no way I'll graduate with this, after all. If I submit to this, Monokuma... will probably kill me. But I have to... keep moving forward, right? Isn't that what you said?"

The young man shook his head, not understanding. "This makes no sense, but... Monokuma, I have another idea. I... didn't have a full test of my abilities either!"

"What are ya talking about?" Monokuma laughed at his **** attempt. "Look, buddy, you're about to graduate from Hope's Peak Academy despite being a talentless nobody! Your luck is already a proven commodity! ... So don't push your luck, okay?"

"No, I'll... I'll test it more! I'll take part of her punishment! Or, uh... I'll do whatever I can to lessen it!"

"You're committing to being part of a public spanking, Mr. Naegi? Is this what kids are into now?! Well, whatever. Even if you beg and plead, I'm not going to spank your naked boy-butt in front of a crowd of straight guys I promised a nice show. Still, I'm a generous bear. I'm sure I can think of some way to make an arrangement..."

"... This is... different from what I imagined," Mukuro admitted.

In the courtyard outside of Hope's Peak Academy, a small platform had been set up. At first glance, the decorations around it made it look like a theme park attraction: it was decorated in all kinds of bright colors, primarily pink, and had cartoony depictions of Monokuma all over it. It was just the right size for its two occupants. Closer inspection would begin to reveal its true, twisted nature: namely, the large banner stating "Mukuro Ikusaba - PUBLIC EXECUTION," with the last two words running in red paint like blood. Some ominous object was covered by a curtain at the rear of the stage, around two students tall and just as wide. A similar curtain hid the base of the platform itself.

Indeed, some might imagine Mukuro already had been executed, considering her unamused face was sticking out from the mouth of a bear. Rather, she was in the center of the stage in a full mascot costume of her tormentor, Monokuma, supporting herself on all fours. In fact, beneath the costume, her wrists and ankles had already been shackled to the floor of the stage, forcing her to hold the humiliating position.

Makoto was on the stage, too, but not in a similar predicament. He was wearing his regular clothes and was permitted to stand. However, he was sheepishly clutching an enormous, solid paddle, painted in pink with flowery letters spelling "LOVE" across the broad surface. It might have looked absurd in Monokuma's hands, but it didn't look any more fitting for the very ordinary student. As young men from the reserve course gathered around them, holding popcorn and jeering with each other, seemingly unsympathetic to the soldier's plight, Makoto approached Mukuro to talk to her one last time. "Are you sure about this? When I complained to Monokuma, I had no idea this is what he was thinking, honest! I'm sure there's something else-"

"Please," Mukuro interrupted him, rolling her eyes. "I told you I'm a soldier, right? I'm not happy about this, but I can take it. This is actually pretty tame compared to what I figured Monokuma was capable of. And spanking is... a punishment for kids, right? For actual children, I mean. So it turns out this was all just Monokuma's way at bullying the sadsack he didn't like on her way out. Whatever. He told you what to do, right? So just follow his orders."

"I thought this was about not just following orders?" Makoto barely chuckled, noting no smile on her face at all. "Okay... If you're determined, I'll go through with it too! Just remember, you can't give up. I mean... I literally don't think Monokuma set up a way for you to give up once we start, but that's fine! You can take it, like you say. Believe in yourself, and I'll believe in you, too!"

"Saying stuff like that in a situation like this..." The soldier sighed again, but the ghost of a smile crossed her lips. "Just get on with it. A girl's telling you to spank her a few times or whatever. Be a man and get it over with."

The young man gulped, beginning to wonder if only he was told what this punishment really entailed from Monokuma. A part of him was starting to think that Mukuro's steely resolve might be the result of a lack of imagination, rather than prepared nerves... "No, I've got to believe in her," he reminded himself. He cleared his throat, then turned on a microphone that had been clipped to the collar of his hoodie. "Ahem... Everyone! Please calm down and take your seats. I'm Makoto Naegi, the Ultimate Lucky Student. I-"

Before he could continue, a chorus of boos came from the young men around him. It wasn't a huge surprise; Makoto had read online about how he was resented among a lot of guys his age for his good luck in getting to attend the Main Course, and the Reserve Course students were chief among those with an axe to grind.

Makoto powered through, aware that what he was going through was the least of their worries. "I've been given orders by the Headmaster to punish Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier! I've been given orders, but no script, so what I say is entirely on me. I know you all came for a show today... but what I really want you to see here is Mukuro's determination! Strip away all of this goofy stage-setting... strip away her ridiculous costume-"

A chorus of wolf whistles came from a number of rude students surrounding them.

"-A-and you'll see the determination of someone who's decided to take whatever life throws at her and live on her own terms! Her pride is what I want to show you."

As the jeers picked up, Mukuro remained silent. She didn't know when Makoto would start paddling, or if he would announce it, and she couldn't turn her head to look. As a result, she'd have to simply keep her body braced for the impact.

His speech continued. "So, no matter what you see here, remember her pride... Th-that's all I wanted to say! I'm starting now..." Instead of beginning to swing, the first thing Makoto did was pull the curtain off the object at the back of the stage, revealing an enormous, many-colored wheel like one might see in a game show. There were words across each of them, unseen by Mukuro, but each seemed to give an ominous look into what might be in store for her during this punishment game. More curiously, there was a gauge in the middle of the wheel, showing a heart and a percentage next to it (currently at 0). As he stood, trying to move himself to action, the wheel began spinning without his input, making a loud ticking noise as its selections whizzed by. The young man raised his voice to speak over its noise and the crowd. "This is the Wheel of Creative Punishments! The longer I take to finish Mukuro's execution, the more of these punishments will be applied. So... I-I'm not gonna waste any time! I'll just do what I have to do, and-"

"What wheel?" Mukuro asked, suddenly looking much less confident. "I wasn't told about this. What's- Ghk!! Makoto?!"

In the single moment she'd let her guard down, Makoto, not realizing, had begun his paddling. There was a puffy noise and a lack of impact as his wimpy swing connected with the padded bottom of her suit. More importantly, the gauge behind him jittered to life with a scant "2%" and a pip of color on the bar. As he watched, the percentage fell back to 0 and the gauge was empty once more. "As you can see, I have to... continuously punish Mukuro...! If I don't do my job, the gauge just bottoms out and we'll never finish. So... forgive me, Mukuro...!"

The soldier still felt ridiculous, clenching her teeth more out of humiliation for the experience than any need to brace against blows. She couldn't see the gauge herself, so she had no idea how he was doing, but she was getting the strong feeling it wasn't great. She might be here on her hands and knees a while. "So, this is an endurance test more than anything else... Makoto! Pick it up. I don't intend to be here a second longer than I have to. I told you I can take it-"

Just as she was raising her voice for her declaration, the wheel had stopped on a punishment: "STRIPPED." As Mukuro's jaw hung open mid-line, the costume she'd been **** into suddenly exploded with a noise like a balloon popping, sending black and white tatters through the air. What was left was her skinny, toned body, her pale skin covered only by the undergarments she'd worn beneath the suit, an exceptionally plain white bra and panty set. Before she could even come to terms with that, she suddenly let out a yelp as the paddle came directly into more direct contact with her now mostly-exposed ass, stinging from an unrestrained strike. "Gyah! M-Makoto, wait, I- Hkk!" she was **** to pause as another blow rained on her, then another. It still wasn't that painful; it was true that Mukuro had been through much worse.

But still... There was something she hadn't accounted for. Something she couldn't have really had a way to know until now.

Mukuro had imagined all kinds of creative **** and steeled herself against it, training her body and building up resistance. What she'd never imagined was being paddled on her backside; that simply wasn't a viable **** method or combat scenario. As such, she'd never had a chance to learn... "Sensitive. My butt is... actually kind of sensitive!" she admitted to herself, struggling to keep a straight face in light of this new and distressing information. Her ordinarily set frown became noticeably tighter, her ordinarily pale face unusually red. She tried to speak up. "Makoto, let's... let's go a little slower, okay?"

Makoto did slow down, but he looked uncertain. "Are you sure? If I let up even a little, the gauge starts going down. We'll get further from done, and another punishment. Ah, the wheel's stopping... It says... 'Truth serum?'"

"Excuse me?" Mukuro's eyes widened in an uncharacteristic expression of fear.

Her classmate tried to reassure her with confidence he wasn't feeling himself, watching a set of robotic hands on thick wires like out of a cartoon emerge from beneath the stage, one holding a vial. "D-don't worry! There are much worse ones on the wheel! I'll hurry so you don't have to do a bunch more. And uh, I'm sure you can handle this, right? Truth serum isn't real, it's probably just a mental thing, so-"

Ignoring him, the soldier screwed her eyes shut, bit her lip and tried to prepare herself for what she could feel was coming, wondering where the injection would come. As such, she was surprised when a hand grabbed her face and pulled her jaw open. With a horrified expression, Mukuro was **** to watch as a strange but familiar blue liquid was poured into her mouth. Without her consent, the hands tilted her head back and **** her jaw shut again, bidding her to swallow it. Meanwhile, Mukuro could look on and see a crowd of unsympathetic young men. Some were reveling in her mistreatment, but there were plenty discontent-- she heard mutterings questioning why their show was such an ugly, scrawny nobody; she heard complaints about a truth serum when more entertaining items were on the wheel; more than anything, she heard the common refrain that it hadn't gone far enough. And now...

She gasped, a trickle of blue running from the corner of her mouth, and spoke up for Makoto's benefit. "No, this is real truth serum. I've administered it... in ****, several times. I won't be able to speak- Unf!" she paused as the paddle connected hard with her backside once again, swung by a young man determined not to drag this out. "I won't be able to lie, and I'll be compelled to say truths I don't want. Makoto, I need you to hurry this up. Whatever the cost! Even if it gets exciting."

"What'd you say?"

"Even if it gets... dangerous!" Mukuro repeated herself. "And exciting!" she muttered through her clenched teeth, trying to somehow drown out the truth. "Oh! Aaah!" she squealed again as the paddle descended on her a couple more times.

Wincing, Makoto took a look at his handiwork. It was now clear to him that the paddle wasn't just painted with the word "LOVE." Instead, it had indentions, such that the reddened area of Mukuro's poor bottom was becoming printed wildly with the word, like someone carelessly testing a fading ink stamp. He couldn't imagine how much it stung, no more than he could imagine how Mukuro must feel in this situation. He **** himself to swing again. "Mukuro, ignore these guys. You can do this! I really believe in you!"

The soldier winced, feeling her face growing more red as words she didn't want to say spilled from her mouth as if the paddling had **** them out. "Fuck all these guys! I'd just kill them all without a thought. I've killed this many unarmed civilians before. It doesn't matter to me. Just... just stop saying all this stuff about hope and how you believe in me and the future and shit, okay?! Don't say that while you're spanking me!"

Unseen behind the two of them, the wheel came to a stop on a new punishment: 'ELECTRIC PADDLE.'

Makoto hadn't seen the selection come up, but he realized it when he went in for the next swing. Before he could stop himself, a paddle with new sparking metal prongs like out of a sci-fi movie connected with his friend's bottom with a nasty crackle. He began to smell a smoky scent and, horrified, came to the conclusion it was the seat of her panties beginning to sear away. He tried to find words. "I'll say it as many times as I need to! There's no need for you to be embarrassed. I'm here with you, and... n-no matter how painful, you're going to make it through this, okay?!"

The tortured soldier gave a strange shout, somewhere between pain, frustration, and a third emotion that came out in a moan. "I'm not hurt! But I need you to shut up! It's all too much... the paddle, the electricity, my sister forcing me into this position with tons of perverts glaring at me, and you, with all your going on and on and on and on about how I'm strong and brave and whatever! Just shut the hell up!! You're gonna make me say that- ghaaagh! Oooh...!!"

Makoto drew back from another spank. Thanks to his efforts, the gauge was looking nearly full. Unfortunately, as another effect of his efforts, Mukuro's panties had been largely destroyed by his tool of punishment, with as many scraps clinging to its burnt-smelling surface as now remained on her body. He could barely tear his eyes off of the reddened, stamped, slightly smoking bottom of the woman he was both spanking and trying to reassure. "Mukuro, I'll keep going, but it's looking really bad-"

"Don't say it looks bad! I'm a woman! I want you to say it looks hot! Gggaaahah!"

As he brought back his paddle from another strike, Makoto suddenly lost speed, growing red. "W-what are you saying?! I'm not into this-"

"Well I am!" Mukuro admitted, wondering how Makoto could be missing the juices between her legs if he was able to see her entire ass uncovered. "I'm really fuckin' turned on right now! So stop saying such cute stuff that m-m-makes me want to imagine a life together with you after I graduate and help me just fucking graduate already! Especially if you aren't even enjoying looking at my ugly body..."

"I-I never said that!" WHAM. "There's nothing wrong with your body!" ZAP. "It's actually-"

"F-fuck!!" Mukuro moaned. For a while now, she'd been working to make her cries sound like she was in extraordinary pain. Now, thanks to the extra stimulation (including a set of hands that had appeared and began playing with her chest beneath her bra as the wheel stopped, unseen, once again) and the truth serum, her cries were starting to sound too much like the ecstatic moans they actually were. "If it's like this, nothing's embarassing to say any more, is it? So I'll just say it all! Makoto, you'll die if you go on a battlefield, but I... I don't wanna be alone again after I graduate! So I'll stop being a soldier, okay?! I'll stop being one if it means I get to be with you! That's what I've decided!"

Makoto was beet red, now. He knew it was ridiculous to try and hide his own shame in light of what was happening to Mukuro, but he did his best to cross his legs just so, regardless. "I d-don't think you should be making any big decisions like this! You're not thinking clearly. But you're almost through, so... just bear with it, and after this, we'll-"

"So you DO think I'm ugly, huh?! And I'm a murderer, and a failure, and flat like a board. And now you're seeing a whole new disgusting side of me! I know that, but... I'm so jealous! I'm jealous of that blue-haired popular-girl bitch that spends time with you, and that knockout detective you're always staring at, and that friendly athlete with the huge boobs! But I get it! You get your pick of anyone, right? So... So.....!!"

"Don't give up, and don't decide things for me!" Makoto shouted, suddenly paddling her with more ****, determined to bring her punishment to an end. "Who'd be ashamed of the body you've gotten from working out?!" BZZRG!! "Just because I don't want to see you hurt doesn't mean I don't want to see you!" BZAAP!! "I haven't decided what I'm doing yet, so stop saying there's no future with-"

Before Makoto could finish his statement, a number of things happened, all at once. His paddle resounded with one final, enormous smack, one that seemed to actually short it out as it began billowing black smoke. Mukuro's body lurched forward, **** rippling through her punished ass and seemingly all the way to her throat, where her tongue shot out in an undignified expression. The shackles holding her down released, such that she ended up plowing forward on her face across the stage with the final hit. The gauge on the wheel filled, and it let out an arcade fanfare as it came to a final stop. But most of all, all of the breaking of machinery, noise of the crowd, and slamming of the paddle were cut through by Mukuro's own ecstatic scream as her body released, cumming from the **** of pent-up emotions and more stimulation than she'd ever felt, privately or publicly.

Makoto ignored her mess and focused on her, running over to give her a shake. "Mukuro!? Are you alright? We need to get you out of here..."

The soldier's eyes were spinning. It was hard not to think her brain had been fried by the final burst of electricity. "Fine... Do you... think I'm... pretty, after all...?"

... The young man was **** to take inventory. He couldn't truthfully say he hadn't been turned on, but Mukuro was covered in sweat and stained with her own bodily fluids. Her ass was a mess, both stinging red and charred black, with messy stamps of "LOVE" over it. Both her ordinary neat bob of black hair and a lower bush he was seeing for the first time seemed to have gone curly from the static. Her small boobs were exposed as well, with her bra having come dislodged by the hands in the middle of the stage. Her ordinary composed face was nowhere to be seen; her eyes were struggling to even see straight forward, and her tongue was hanging from her mouth along with a faint trail of drool. Privately, he wondered if she'd be okay after all this... he had to believe that she'd be physically fine, but there was no way her reputation wouldn't be hurt when the military types she had to command the respect of learned she'd been subjected to this. So, in every manner of speaking, she was a mess.

Fortunately, Makoto hadn't been **** to take any truth serum. "You look... strong! Like a survivor."

Ignoring Mukuro's serum-addled pleas for him to tell her she looked sexy and not just tough, Makoto struggled to help her off the stage and shield her from any thrown popcorn. He wasn't sure what the future would hold, but for now, he found himself in the unlikely position of standing alongside the Ultimate Soldier, nursing her first injuries on or off the battlefield.