Archive of Our Own ^beta

Makoto wasn’t sure why he had been invited him to her room, but he nonetheless found himself ringing Celeste’s doorbell late in the afternoon.

The door promptly swung open.

Celeste stood in the doorway, holding her palm up to her lips. “I’m glad you came, Makoto…”

Makoto barely registered her greeting as his eyes fell upon her elaborate bedroom. It had the same hideous pink walls and blue carpet as his own room, but the similarities ended there. Immediately to his right was a fancy painting hung on the wall; a large candle-lit chandelier illuminated the room from above. And as he stepped deeper into the room, the sights only became more bizarre. Around the corner sat a meticulously detailed black coffin, painted with a red cross and draped with roses—Celeste’s bed, too, sported dark sheets and blood-red flowers. On her desk sat an ostentatious mirror, a bouquet of flowers, and what seemed like an endless collection of makeup, perfumes, hair products, and accessories. Indeed, if it weren’t for the conspicuous metal plates bolted onto the windows and the bulky security camera looming over the bed, Makoto might’ve thought he had stepped into the bedroom of some regal European princess. 

At last, Makoto turned to face Celeste. “...Anyway,” he asked, “What’s going on? Why’d you ask me to come here?” He could’ve been mistaken, but he swore that she had almost looked shy when she invited him. 

Celeste’s gaze was evasive. “I received the results…”

Makoto had no idea what she was talking about. “Results…?” 

Celeste faced the floor with arms crossed, seemingly forlorn. “The child growing in my belly… It’s yours.” 

Makoto’s eyes widened and he was about to stammer out a response when she cut him off. “Wait, sorry. Wrong results.” She surely must have been joking, but she didn’t laugh. 

Before he could recover, Celeste continued. “Congratulations!” She smiled elegantly, interlocking her slender hands underneath her chin. “You have moved up a rank! You are now C-rank!”

“Huh? C-rank?” Was she playing another prank on him?

Her expression was blank. “Oh, I have a habit of ranking those around me.”

“What kind of habit is that…?”

Resting her chin on a closed hand, she explained as though her system was the most natural thing in the world. “The most common is D-rank. I have no interest in D-rank. Most everyone at this school fits into that category.” Makoto was about to ask who, exactly, she considered to be D-rank, but she wasn’t finished quite yet. “The worst is F-rank. If you’re F-rank… I pay a special organization to have you killed. Your very existence is unforgivable.” 

Makoto’s eyes widened, and he instinctively took a step back. She must’ve been joking, right? Yet her stiff body language and refined voice, tinted with a vaguely European accent, showed no sign of amusement. Moreover, she had told him that she was a millionaire, among many other outlandish tales about her life. Maybe she really did have those kinds of connections.

If Celeste sensed his unease, however, she didn’t comment on it. “Conversely,” she explained, “The very best rank is A-rank. But among everyone I have met, across all countries, I have never found a B-rank, let alone A-rank.” She grinned and clasped her fingers again—it seemed to be a common habit of hers. “So you being promoted to C-rank is a very great honor.”

“I-I see…” Truthfully, Makoto did feel a small sense of pride that someone as fastidious and sophisticated—not to mention talented—as Celeste might consider him to at least be above average, even if not on her level.

She lifted a hand to her lips again. “Also, when you become C-rank, you gain the right to become my official servant—a knight.” 

She made it sound as though she was presenting some great opportunity, but Makoto was less enthused. After all, he had seen how she treated Hifumi. “Wow, I had no idea…”

Celeste, however, was apparently quite pleased to have someone to explain her convoluted worldview to. “I have knights all across the world. They are all quite obedient.” Her expression was stern, but Makoto thought he noticed a faint smile on her lips. “I recommend you take me up on this offer. If you do your very best as a knight, becoming the first B-rank may well be within your grasp.” Her voice dropped to a low, sultry whisper. “Perhaps even… A-rank… I can’t be sure, but I feel like you may have the potential…”

Makoto rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly scanning the room. Celeste. He hadn’t noticed it before, but there were several dresses strewn up in a corner of the room, both of them black with various intricate white trims. The woman standing in front of him, however, was wearing the same outfit he had always seen her in: a white blouse with a long-point collar underneath a black jacket and intricate red tie, as well as an immense tiered skirt adorned with white lace. Her sleeves, too, were laced with white thread, and elegant frills extended at her wrists. Below her skirt, she wore a pair of black stockings, and red high-heels—clearly, Celeste was allergic to any color that was not black, white, or red. The most enigmatic aspect of her appearance, however, was her black hair, arranged in two twin drill pigtails that extended to her mid-thigh; atop her head was a white lace bonnet, with a ribbon attached to each side. 

Meanwhile, he was wearing a pair of jeans, a dull-green hoodie, and a random pair of sneakers. The fanciest piece of clothing he had was a black jacket, but even that was nothing compared to Celeste’s attire.

“Hmhm,” Celeste murmured, snapping Makoto back to reality. “So, as a knight, please be prepared to give your life for me.”

Makoto blurted out a response. “Er, I haven’t actually decided yet…” He wasn’t exactly sure how she expected him to “give his life” for her, but he knew better than to ask. 

For an uncomfortably long moment, Celeste stared at him with a vacant smile. Her stark red eyes, framed by subtle black eyeliner, a pair of lengthy bangs, and her pale snow-white skin seemed like lethal weapons peering into Makoto’s soul—if looks could kill, Celeste would’ve certainly been a more prolific serial killer than Genocide Jack. 

Celeste turned to the side, idly twirling a strand of her hair with an arm held up by her other palm. “Tch!” 

As she stared into the distance, Makoto finally had an opportunity to process her words. She had said he could become a B-rank or A-rank, which he supposed was quite the compliment. That was assuming, of course, that her system actually existed in the first place—he still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t just screwing with him. 

Feeling exhausted by the conversation, which had seemingly come to an end, Makoto took a step toward the door. 

A firm hand gripped his shoulder. Wheeling around, Makoto found himself staring into Celeste’s widened eyes.

“Where are you going?” she asked, a hand drifting to her mouth. “Heh-heh. You still have not accepted my offer.” Her voice was cold. 

“Uh…” He wasn’t sure it was right to call it an offer if he didn’t actually have a choice—more of a demand, really. “Wh-What exactly… does being your servant meant? Like… am I supposed to get you tea or something…?”

Celeste stared into the distance, tapping her chin. “Of course, that is one possibility. But I think the pig is better suited for that duty.” 

“P-Pig?” Makoto said, but as soon as the words left his mouth he realized who she was referring to. He had vivid memories of Celeste bossing Hifumi around in the dining hall, forcing him to brew her a cup of tea in the exact manner she specified. “Oh…”

Celeste turned to face Makoto again, her eyes shifty. “He has, at last, learned to make my tea correctly. It is not of the highest quality, but in such desperate circumstances it is acceptable.” She smiled, resting her chin on clasped hands. “Hmhm… So, you need not concern yourself with such undignified labor.”

Makoto didn’t exactly like Hifumi—he was kind of a perverted weirdo, all things considered—but hearing Celeste insult him so bluntly was still a shock to his system. “Th-Then… what is it that you want me to do, exactly…?”

Celeste looked away with a dismayed expression, arms wrapped slightly around herself. “It is a shame you insist on asking so many questions…” As though she had experienced an epiphany, however, she turned to face him once more. “There is something I am very curious about, Makoto.” 

The irony of her asking him a question right after insulting him for doing the same was not entirely lost on him. “Wh-What is it…?”

Celeste did not hesitate. “You had sex with Sayaka Maizono, yes?” she asked, resting her chin on her fist and staring at him with an intrigued expression. 

Makoto’s eyes widened. “H-Huh!?” 

“It is a simple yes or no question,” she said, staring ahead with a frigid expression. Makoto was suddenly noticing that Celeste didn’t blink nearly as much as a normal human being.

“Wh-What makes you think that?” he asked, raising his arms in front of himself. He could feel heat rushing to his cheeks—he desperately hoped Celeste didn’t notice, but he knew that was a futile ask. “A-And why do you even care?”

Celeste stared off into the distance. “Heh. I happened to spy Sayaka leaving your room one day. I believe it was the morning before she died, yes?” 

Makoto flinched at Celeste’s bluntness. That night, Sayaka had visited him again, only that time she had insisted that they switch rooms. The next day, he had found her dead in his bathroom, and the rest was history.

“Besides,” Celeste said, smirking slightly. ”I think it was inevitable, the way you two were looking at one another. It was quite romantic, actually.”

“Was it really that obvious…?”

“Ah, so you admit it.” Celeste laughed softly, holding a palm to her lips.

“I-I didn’t say that—” 

Celeste cut him off. “I must admit that I am not entirely certain what she saw in you. A famous pop idol like her could have any man in the world, no? It strikes me as strange that she would choose such an unremarkable person to be her lover.”

Makoto sighed. “Wh-What is that supposed to mean!?” He looked away, feeling awkward and slightly dejected. It was one thing for Celeste to arbitrarily insult him—which was, all things considered, fairly expected. It was another thing entirely for her to so bluntly poke at his gravest insecurities. “I mean,” he muttered. “It’s not like there was much competition… you know?”

Celeste gazed to the side. “That is a good point,” she said, her voice turning venomous. “It is a shame, indeed, that I must be trapped here with such reprehensible men.” 

“...Aren’t you the one who’s been insisting that we all, um, adapt to our predicament?” 

“Hm. That is true,” she said, tapping a finger to her chin. “But the deplorable male population is a formidable obstacle.” She turned to face Makoto, smiling opulently. “If I had a harem of handsome servants, then it would be much more pleasant.”

Makoto had no idea how to respond, and it didn’t seem like Celeste particularly cared about his input either. He wasn’t sure whether to take it as a compliment that she was willing to divulge her fantasies to him—did that mean she liked him? Or was he just the only person who she could force to listen to her ramblings? 

Celeste looked to the ground, clutching her chest. “Of course, it goes without saying that the unfortunate-looking bag of lard is utterly repugnant. But the others are not much better.”

“Bag of l— n-nevermind.” 

“The clairvoyant is an idiot, and Taka’s shouting gives me a dreadful headache.” 

“What about Byakuya?” Makoto blurted out. “I-I mean, you two seem like you have… similar perspectives on things.”

Celeste’s eyes widened. “Do you mean to insult me, Makoto?”

Makoto gasped, waving his hands. “N-No, no, I was just—”

“Byakuya is a decent-looking man,” Celeste said, her expression deadpan. “But he is too arrogant. I cannot tolerate men who do not understand their place.”

“Oh.” He didn’t feel confident enough to point out the fact that Celeste, too, carried a signature air of superiority with her wherever she went. She’d probably insist it was deserved, anyhow. 

“Hmhm. So, you must see,” she said, resting her chin on her fist, “that there is a grave lack of desirable men in this school. You must understand, therefore, why I would like to better understand what Sayaka Maizono saw in you.”

“I-I’m not sure I’m following, Celeste.”

She stared at him, her expression deadpan. “You must have noticed that I did not list you earlier. You are, unfortunately, my last hope.” From the shiftiness in her eyes and the slight furrow of her brow, it seemed to Makoto that her confession pained her, although she maintained her rigid, sophisticated body language as she stepped forward, quickly closing the gap between her and Makoto. He stepped back, feeling slightly uneasy and excited at the same time. 

Before he knew it his head hit the wall behind him, and there was nowhere left for him to go.

Celeste laughed slightly as she leaned forward to face Makoto, slipping a hand underneath his chin—her skin was cool to the touch, as though the ice in her gaze had extended to the rest of her body as well.

“It also seems to me, Makoto,” Celeste said, tilting Makoto’s head toward her, her nails pricking the skin of his chin, “that you must also be looking for companionship, no?” 

“...What makes you think that?” He knew that if push came to shove, he could probably overpower her—she was a thin, average height woman who didn’t strike him as particularly athletic—but it felt as though an anchor had been chained to his legs as he stared into her dilating red eyes.

“I imagine it must have been quite frustrating,” she purred, “that your young, attractive lover died only a day after you did the deed.” Makoto grit his teeth—who was she to talk about Sayaka like that? 

“I have also seen the way you look at Kyoko,” Celeste whispered. At this point, her face was so close to his that he could feel the faint touch of her breath every time she spoke. “I know you lament the fact that she does not reciprocate your affection.”

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Makoto realized that his heart was beating quickly. He wished he could melt into the wall behind him, and yet the air felt electric as he stared at the subtle fluttering of Celeste’s eyelashes and the gentle contortions of her lips with each syllable she uttered. She looked almost like some priceless antique doll or puppet; he half-expected to be able to reach behind her and grab hold of a collection of strings covertly controlling her every movement.

“And,” Celeste stated, leaning even closer. “I could not help but notice that you were quite eager to come to my room today.” She laughed softly. Makoto inhaled sharply, a knot growing in his stomach; he couldn’t help but notice that Celeste had a subtle, sweet aroma, like a blend of strawberries and pine trees. 

Celeste tilted her head, staring into Makoto’s eyes with an enigmatic blend of contempt and exhilaration. Before Makoto could react, however, her eyelids fluttered closed. She pressed her lips against his—they were soft, and cool. Makoto’s eyes widened. For a moment, he found himself staring at Celeste’s closed eyes—her elaborate hair fell all around the pair like walls of a room. At last, however, he closed his eyes and found himself reveling in the feeling of her lips. His skin prickled, and a surreal tingling crawled across his hands. For a moment, time seemed to freeze as Makoto attempted to process what was occurring. 

Only a second later, however, Celeste took a step back, smiling slightly. Makoto originally assumed it was her typical polite facade, but he thought he saw a hint of affection in her expression—perhaps it was the way the corners of her eyes seemed to rise, almost imperceptibly, or maybe it was the way her eyes were subtly scanning across his body and facial features. The kiss had been short, but Makoto could still feel the shadow of her lips on his, and his spine shivered.

“Heh. It is as I suspected,” Celeste said, a breathy whimsy in her voice. “You are quite red in the face.”

He had no way of checking, but he felt heat creeping across his cheeks; Celeste’s comment only made him feel more embarrassed, and he awkwardly peered to the side. He was still in a state of shock. Had Celeste really just kissed him? It seemed like such a strange thought to imagine someone like her kissing someone, even as curt as it had been. He had never really thought about her in a romantic or sexual way—if anything, she kind of scared him—but as he shot glances toward her elegant figure, he found himself eyeing the contours of her chest and the sliver of her thighs exposed between her stockings and her skirt. A small part of his mind wondered what her body might look like without so many layers of elaborate clothing.

Neither of them spoke for several seconds.

“Um...I-I’m kind of confused, honestly,” Makoto said. 

“Hm. Why is that?” Celeste asked, her head tilted slightly downward. “As I said previously, you are my last hope. It is quite unfortunate, but I must make do in these trying times. You, too, are looking for companionship.” She eyed him with a subtle smile. “Therefore, I think we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Makoto’s eyes widened, and a multitude of possibilities whirred around in his head.

“You find me attractive, yes?” Celeste said. Makoto thought he saw genuine intrigue in her eyes. 

“Um, y-yeah… I guess…?”

“That was rhetorical,” she retorted.

“Oh… So, what’s this, um, ‘arrangement’ you’re proposing?” Makoto murmured.

Celeste smiled, interlocking her fingers under her chin. “Let us re-enact what you and Sayaka did the night before her death, shall we?”

Makoto gasped. “W-Wait, you don’t—”

“You wouldn’t say no to the humble request of a lady, would you?” She gazed at the floor, appearing dejected, although Makoto had the distinct impression she was simply indulging in theatrics. 

“Well, no, it’s not that, b-but—” Makoto’s words trailed off. Truthfully, he felt a stirring inside him as he looked at Celeste’s petite figure. “It’s just, you know…” He gestured vaguely toward the direction of the surveillance camera hanging over Celeste’s bed.

Celeste giggled softly. “I have already thought of that. I suggest you take a closer look at the camera.”

Confused, Makoto walked over to Celeste’s bed, glad to finally have an excuse to escape the wall pressing into his back. Immediately, he noticed something strange about the camera. Some sort of black cloth and white foam was draped over the lens, secured by a length of twine tied into an elaborate bow.

“If you recall,” Celeste said, her voice shockingly close behind him, “the school regulations say that you cannot destroy the surveillance cameras. There is no stipulation, however, about covering them up. So it is quite alright, you see.”

The loophole made sense, but Makoto still had some trepidations. “Still… what if Monokuma shows up…?”

“Tch!” she hissed. “If the perverted bear shows up, that’s his problem.”

“U-Uh… sure.” He wasn’t exactly convinced, but he wasn’t going to press the issue any further. 

“So,” Celeste said, suddenly leaning forward. “Shall we begin?”

“W-Wait… so let me be clear, Celeste. You want to have… sex?”

Celeste’s eyes shifted from left to right. “You use such crude language…” She sighed. “Perhaps, if you prove yourself. But first, I must evaluate you.” She smiled, interlocking her fingers. “So, Makoto, please kindly take off your clothes.”

“What!?” Makoto asked, stepping back.

Celeste sighed slightly. “Please do not make me ask twice, Makoto. Just because you have been promoted to C-rank does not necessarily mean you are worthy.” She turned to the side, twirling her hair. “I need more information to make a well-informed decision.”

“Uh… okay.” He wasn’t exactly sure where this was going, but he couldn’t deny that he was intrigued. He had never imagined Celeste to have any sexual urges; she sometimes seemed more like a picturesque caricature of a human being rather than an actual person with worldly desires and carnal urges. Somehow, though, the juxtaposition with her dignified veneer only made the idea of having sex with her hotter, and, after a moment’s hesitation, he shed his jacket and undid the zipper of his hoodie. He briefly considered tossing the clothing to the floor, but Celeste’s piercing gaze told him she would take offense to any remote dirtying of her room; instead, Makoto neatly folded up the garments and placed them on top of the dresser by her bed.

He was still fully clothed in a T-shirt and pants, but he somehow already felt naked in front of Celeste’s ornately dressed figure.

Celeste’s eyes wandered across his torso; she seemed to take particular interest in his now exposed forearms, though he couldn’t discern if her gaze was one of interest or disdain. After an uncomfortably long silence, Celeste’s gaze finally met Makoto’s eyes.

She rested her chin on her fist. “What are you waiting for, Makoto?”

“H-Huh? …Oh.” Feeling quite awkward, Makoto grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it off of his torso in one deft movement. He carefully folded the shirt and placed it atop his hoodie on the dresser. 

“I must concede,” Celeste said, carefully scanning his body with an expression that made Makoto’s cheeks flush, “that I did not expect your figure to be quite so… toned.” 

“What is that supposed to mean…?” he muttered, rubbing his brow. 

“Heh. You are full of surprises, Makoto.” He didn’t exactly feel complimented , but he supposed it was a good sign coming from someone as uptight as her. Her expression quickly turned glacial, however. She sighed. “Must I teach you how to undress yourself, Makoto?”

“Sorry…” he murmured. He was mortified, but undressing somehow still seemed preferable to facing Celeste’s wrath. So, with a deep sigh, he undid the button of his jeans and pulled them off of his body, followed by his underwear. Soon, every single article of his clothes were stacked neatly on Celeste’s dresser, and he took a seat on the bed. 

Even without clothes, his body felt warmer than ever as he suffered under the scrutiny of Celeste’s steely eyes; they widened almost imperceptibly as they hovered over his cock. To his chagrin, he realized that he had half an erection, and he hunched over slightly to shield himself. At that moment, however, Celeste wheeled around on her feet.

“H-Hold on… what are you doing?” Makoto asked. 

Celeste continued walking, her skirt fluttering and high-heels clacking with each step. “I am setting the mood, of course,” she replied, still turned away from him. Makoto noticed that she was approaching a gramophone in the corner of the room. As he watched, Celeste wordlessly bent over and picked up a vinyl disc from a shelf, her movements simultaneously graceful and mechanical as she placed the disc into the gramophone. A moment later, the beautiful melody of a soft piano ballad filled the air. 

Celeste strolled back toward the bed, smiling softly. As she approached, however, Makoto noticed that she was holding something in her hand. Suddenly, the realization struck him—it was a length of black rope.

“Put your hands behind your back,” Celeste ordered, her face utterly deadpan. 

“Huh?” Makoto asked. “Why… w-would I do that…?”

“Because I said so.” Celeste smirked, pressing her fingers to her lips. “Hmhm. Do not worry. If I wanted to kill you, I would have already done so.”

The thought had been lurking in his mind, but somehow Celeste’s attempt to assuage his fears only made him more concerned.

“Uh…”

Celeste sighed. “You are my knight, are you not? You are supposed to do as I ask.”

“Um, Celeste, I-I think you’re a great person and all but I still haven’t actually… agreed to your offer.” 

“Tch!” she hissed, staring at the wall with her arms half-crossed. “That is no matter.” She turned back to face Makoto, suddenly smiling again. “I have no doubt that after this little tryst you will be begging to be my servant. So why not consider it official already?” Her voice was soft, but a vicious glint in her eye made Makoto gulp, and he suddenly couldn’t find the right words to refute her as a shudder scaled his spinal column. 

Apparently seeing his silence as an affirmative answer, Celeste smiled. “I am glad. Now, as I said”—her voice suddenly dropped low, and she bent forward until her nose was nearly touching Makoto’s forehead—”place your goddamned hands behind your back.” He lurched backward, the sudden intensity of her voice sending a jolt throughout his body. Makoto didn’t know what got into him, but he found himself nodding along nervously, slipping his hands behind his back. Without hesitation, Celeste gripped Makoto’s wrists like a cat pouncing its prey; before Makoto even processed what was happening, his hands were tied together by a thin rope. 

“One more thing,” Celeste murmured, looming over him. She pulled a blindfold from her pocket; the last thing Makoto saw was her porcelain skin, her venomous red eyes only inches away from his, and a slight smirk on her thin lips. Then, everything was black. 

Instinctively, Makoto tried to reach up to feel the blindfold, but he found his wrists chafing against a strong knot. All of a sudden, he felt utterly powerless—robbed of his vision, the only sensations remaining were the soft touch of the bedsheets and the gentle piano melody emanating from the gramophone, interrupted occasionally by Celeste menacingly giggling.

The bed creaked as Celeste took a seat beside him. Resting her head on his shoulder, her massive pigtails sweeping across Makoto’s neck and back, she reached forward and wrapped a small, slender hand around Makoto’s cock. He flinched at the touch; his heart was beating, and soon his chub had transformed into a hard erection. Celeste laughed softly, her warm breath tickling the side of his neck.

“Oh my,” Celeste murmured, her lips just inches from Makoto’s ears. “Are you really throbbing after such a small touch?” At such a short distance, it almost felt like her words were emanating from inside his own skull. He couldn’t see her, but he could nonetheless imagine her expression—slightly widened eyes, conveying a mysterious mixture of affection and hostility, a slight smirk on her lips. 

Slowly, Celeste began to move her hand up and down across Makoto’s cock. A shiver went up his spine, and his breathing grew heavier. “It is as I suspected,” she said. “You are boiling over with sexual frustration. It is a most unfortunate condition. Heh-heh.” Her grip was surprisingly strong, especially considering the small size of her hands, but it only intensified the pleasure Makoto experienced as her fingers slid up and down his shaft.

Celeste paused at the top of Makoto’s cock, gently rubbing her palm across the head before slipping her hand back down his shaft. “Hm. I must congratulate you, however,” she said. “You possess an instrument larger than most.” 

It took a moment for Makoto to even process what she meant—he wasn’t sure if Celeste’s touch was overwhelming his senses, or if he was simply already exhausted from her bizarre antics, but his mind seemed to be working in slow motion. It was as though his brain was melting inside his skull. 

“Th-Thanks, I guess…” he said, followed by a soft moan as Celeste’s hand slid up and down his length. 

“Perhaps that is why Sayaka chose you,” she said. “I wonder if she was one of those women who prefer men to have a certain... caliber of instrument.”

“Wh… Wh-What the heck are you even talking about?” Makoto hissed. “That… doesn’t even make any sense. How would she even know—”

Suddenly, Celeste withdrew her hand. “Oh, my. I would advise you do not talk back to me,” she warned. “Men who do not understand their place are terribly unattractive.”

Makoto almost blurted a response, but as he felt the tightness in his cock and the sexual frustration flooding his body, he grit his teeth and exhaled sharply.

“I am glad you understand,” Celeste said, sounding deeply amused. Makoto groaned as Celeste once again wrapped her hand around his cock. As she jerked him off, Makoto idly wondered if this is how Toko felt when Byakuya bossed her around. Then again, Toko seemed to be way more into that kind of humiliation than he was—and Byakuya seemed to have a more genuine distaste for her, unlike Celeste’s bizarre air of affectionate condescension. It was almost like she was talking to a misbehaving pet. Regardless, she seemed to enjoy it very much as her hand struck waves of pleasure into Makoto’s body. She breathed softly on Makoto’s neck, and he was suddenly cognizant of the feeling of her body pressing against his from behind. She was still fully clothed, but he could feel the squeezing of her breasts against his shoulders. Her hair, too, was falling over Makoto’s back in droves like a warm, comforting blanket. 

“I must also warn you,” Celeste murmured into his ear, “that if you ejaculate any semen onto my outfit or hair, I might have to kill you.” She didn’t laugh.

Her hand accelerated, and Makoto gasped. He waited for her to say she was kidding, but no such admission came. Still, he found it hard to focus on any particular train of thought; it felt as if his entire body was melting into the bed from Celeste’s touch. As if reading his mind, Celeste leaned over and kissed Makoto’s neck, trailing her lips across the side of his head until she was lightly nibbling his earlobe. He moaned softly. Indeed, he could feel the traces of an orgasm building up inside his body. His muscles tightened, and he found his fingers curling slightly, his wrists protesting against the rope that bound them. 

At that moment, however, Celeste relaxed her grip. He gasped, instinctively turning to look at Celeste even though he still couldn’t see anything. A moment later, she withdrew her hand entirely. 

“I think that is enough of a taste, yes?” she said. “I have not yet discerned whether you are deserving of anything more.”

Makoto groaned, his body still quivering.

“C-Come on,” he murmured. “...You can’t just—”

Makoto felt a finger press against his mouth, shushing him. “Please be quiet,” Celeste hissed. 

He sighed, his body tingling. Obviously, teasing him like this was all a part of her scheme. He supposed he had no choice but to play along with her game of cat and mouse. He couldn’t help but wonder, however, what trials and tribulations she would put him through before she deemed he was worthy of her undivided attention.

Makoto didn’t have to wait long, however. 

“Get on your knees,” Celeste ordered.

“H-Huh, what… Celeste, what are you—”

Celeste sighed. “I knew you were an exceedingly average individual, Makoto, but this level of plainness disappoints me.” 

“I don’t get—”

“Don’t talk back to me,” she hissed. 

Makoto sighed and, after a moment’s hesitation, climbed down from the bed and knelt on the carpet. He heard the bed creak as Celeste resituated herself, and he thought he heard the rustling of her clothes—was she undressing?

“I must admit, I am concerned by your insolence,” Celeste said, sighing. “In fact, Makoto, I do not think it is wise for you to refer to me as Celeste anymore.”

Makoto scoffed. “...Th-Then, what should I call you…?”

Celeste paused, as though she was meticulously considering all the possibilities available to her. Makoto had a bad feeling about this.

“I will try not to humiliate you too much,” she said. “So, ‘Your Highness’ will be fine for our purposes.” She laughed softly, but her voice soon dropped to a more foreboding tone. “Now, I would like to hear you say it.”

Makoto sighed, breathing deeply. “D-Don’t you think this is kinda… excessive?”

Celeste gasped. “You are my knight. It is only natural, is it not?”

He wanted to point that he still technically hadn’t agreed to become her ‘knight,’ but he knew it was pointless. “I-I understand, Your Highness…” The words rolled off his tongue with much less resistance than he had anticipated, and he felt his cheeks burn. This whole ordeal was humiliating, yet he couldn’t deny there was something paradoxically freeing about relegating his autonomy and letting somebody take the reigns for once. He considered himself a fairly passive individual, but ever since he had been thrust into this killing game, it seemed as though a massive burden had been placed on his shoulders. So many of the others looked toward him for guidance, even though he felt he didn’t quite warrant the admiration.

A moment later, Makoto felt a hand gently grip his hair and pull him forward. Celeste’s skirt brushed against his forehead—so she must’ve still had her clothes on—but he gasped as he felt his lips press against her bare pussy. She must’ve slipped her panties off while retaining the rest of her outfit. There was something alluring about the idea of it being exposed to the air, even with the rest of her body covered by her intricate layers of skirts, blouses, and jackets—somebody could walk right by her, and they would be none the wiser.

After getting over his shock, Makoto took a deep breath and extended his tongue to lick her inner thigh. Her legs quivered slightly, and Celeste spread them to make more room—Makoto took that as a good sign. For a short time, he teased her, sweeping his tongue across her inner thigh but avoiding touching her vulva at all. Finally, however, he licked her entrance, dragging his tongue up and down across her lips and clit—she had a mostly neutral taste, with a slight hint of citrus and salt. 

“Oh my,” Celeste said. “It seems you are finally understanding your place. Heh-heh. I am glad.” Her voice had a lighthearted undertone, but her speech remained steady even as Makoto’s tongue pressed against her pussy. It was only natural that the Ultimate Gambler would be able to control her mannerisms so strictly;  he knew it would be hard to get any reaction out of her. Part of him resented her for her air of disdain, but another part of him saw her steely attitude as a challenge—he resolved that he would get a reaction out of her by the day’s end. 

Celeste’s grip on Makoto’s hair tightened, and she adjusted the angle of his head slightly. He grunted, but he continued eating her out. “I must admit,” she said, “that I initially did not expect you to live very long, Makoto.”

Despite her condescending words, her voice was cool and collected, even affectionate. It was as though she was simply making an objective observation rather than an insult or threat.

“...W-Why is that…?” he asked, wiping his lips. Truthfully, he supposed he couldn’t blame her, either—when Monokuma had first explained the rules of the killing game, he had found himself debating how he would possibly survive surrounded by so many talented, almost superhuman students. 

“I suggest you do not interrupt yourself often,” Celeste warned, apparently disregarding his question entirely. “And you are supposed to refer to me with a certain title, yes?”

“It’s just… I-I think this would be better if I could use my hands, too.” After a moment, he quickly appended his reply. “Uh… Your Highness.” He looked up toward her, even though it was pointless.

Celeste giggled slightly. “I do appreciate the enthusiasm, Makoto. Unfortunately,” she said, her voice turning stony, “you have not yet earned the right to lay hands on my body. That is a very special privilege. Besides, is it not more attractive when a person performs oral without the use of their hands? It is a sign of skill, yes? I am sure you would find it a more enjoyable sight if a woman were to pleasure you solely using her mouth.” 

“Uhm… I-I don’t think it’d really make a difference, honestly—”

Celeste interrupted him matter-of-factly; Makoto sighed deeply, gulping. “...However,” she said, “since you have been performing your role so well, I do think I shall remove your blindfold. After all, I would prefer to look into your eyes as you pleasure me.”

Celeste let go of Makoto’s hair; soon, he felt the trace of her fingernails on his cheek as the blindfold was lifted up from his head. Bright light flooded onto his face, almost blinding him. He slammed his eyes shut, only occasionally peeking out through blurred vision. 

Once he had adjusted to the light, however, he found himself staring directly into Celeste’s zealous red eyes. Her face showed no signs of being consumed by tantalizing pleasure, but he thought he noticed a faint smile on her lips and a gleam in her gaze—sweat glimmered on her brow. One of her arms was situated by her side, pinning the bunched up fabric of her skirt to the bed—her other hand soon found its way onto Makoto’s hair once again. 

Celeste pulled his head forward, and Makoto flicked his tongue across Celeste’s lips once again, tasting her juices as they dripped from inside her. He soon found himself in a regular rhythm, swirling his tongue in regular circles and from side to side across her pussy, occasionally tracing his tongue around the edge of her clit. Her thighs quivered and tightened around his head.

“Hmhm. What I was saying?” she asked. “Ah, yes. You have a certain naivete about you, Makoto. I suggest you handle yourself better. It would be a shame for our tryst to end so soon after it began.” She snickered. “Perhaps I will even teach you. A personal lesson from the Queen of Liars is a great honor.”

Makoto, like usual, wasn’t sure what to feel about her patronizing praise. Still, there was something distinctly captivating about the idea of Celeste essentially taking him under her wing. Maybe she did have a point when she said that being her servant was a great honor. 

Celeste sighed. “It is a shame, really.” She paused, as though expecting Makoto to respond to her, but he could only gaze up at her with an intrigued expression. Eventually, she continued. “I have not had my afternoon milk tea. I feel so very empty… Perhaps I should lead you to the kitchen on a leash so you can prepare it for me.” She simpered, amusement shimmering in her eyes. Makoto flinched; he couldn’t possibly imagine how the others might react if Celeste was dragging him along on a leash—he would never hear the end of it from Byakuya, and Toko would probably deliver an entire novel of lewd comments. Somehow, he had the distinct impression that Kyoko would be upset, too, or at least severely disappointed in him. 

“Unfortunately,” Celeste continued, “I believe that such a sight would send Hifumi into a catatonic state, similar to how Taka was behaving until recently.” Makoto gazed up at her—his tongue and jaw ached, but he was determined to get a reaction out of her—and she leaned forward, peering at Makoto with a furrowed brow and frigid eyes, a subtle smirk on her lips. Her voice had a raspier quality as she spoke. “You should be grateful for your position, Makoto. I suspect Hifumi would kill somebody to be in your place—assuming, of course, the bag of lard could fit between my legs to begin with.”

Yup, she definitely scared him.

Makoto stopped his licking briefly to kiss her at various points on her labia, before sticking out his tongue and slowly sliding the tip inside her entrance, massaging her insides. After spending some time licking her walls, he withdrew his tongue and once again fervently licked across her pussy before finally settling on her clit with a gentle sucking motion. He might’ve been imagining it, but he thought Celeste was breathing quicker than usual, and her previously effortless poker-face seemed almost strained.

“Regardless,” Celeste purred. “The warehouse has no leashes to b—” 

Suddenly, Celeste moaned loudly, her grip on Makoto’s hair tightening and her thighs trembling against the side of his head. She quickly averted her gaze with pursed lips, her hand balling up the fabric of her skirt and clenching into a tight fist. 

“Ahem.” Celeste cleared her throat loudly. “I think it is time for your next reward, yes?” She let go of Makoto’s head and he stumbled backward. 

After catching his breath and wiping his mouth, he climbed to his feet, finding himself staring into Celeste’s eyes. Her brow was furrowed, a small line of sweat dripping across her temple, and her gaze was wavering and uncertain as she met his eyes. She climbed to her feet, splaying her hands on the top of her skirt. She attempted to smile, but Makoto couldn’t ignore the stiffness of her body language. She looked distressed. Almost… scared?

If Celeste really was experiencing such emotions, however, she did not let them distract her. “Sit down,” she ordered. Following her order, Makoto took a seat on the bed—in the corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of black lacy underwear neatly folded atop the dresser next to the pile of his clothes. 

“Unfortunately, I will have to blindfold you again for next act of our meeting,” Celeste said, staring at him with a blank face—she appeared to have finally regained her composure. 

Makoto opened his mouth to protest, but before he could even utter a word, Celeste had deftly slipped the blindfold onto his head—of course, he couldn’t reach up to remove it. He exhaled deeply, accepting his fate. Moreover, he was curious what Celeste had in store for him. His cock was still rock hard, aching for her touch.

Indeed, only a moment later he felt a warm touch on the head of his cock, Celeste’s drill pigtails falling across his thighs. He shivered, expecting to feel the exhilarating grip of her hand—to his surprise, however, he instead felt the warm touch of a tongue. Celeste had wrapped her lips around the head of Makoto’s cock, and was now adroitly twirling her tongue around it. 

Makoto moaned as Celeste kissed her way down the length of Makoto’s cock. She stopped briefly to gently suck his balls before going back up to the head of his penis, kissing and licking him along the way. Already, Makoto felt like he was going to burst, though he couldn’t help but recall how Celeste had warned him against messing up her outfit and hair. Part of him was suddenly glad that she had blindfolded him—he knew the sight of her staring at him as she trailed her lips across his shaft would’ve been too much to handle. 

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was really her only intention, or if perhaps she felt awkward about him seeing her in that position. Previously, he couldn’t have imagined someone like Celeste ever feeling embarrassed, especially in the presence of someone like him , but after seeing her fit of distress just a few moments ago, he wasn’t quite so sure. 

“...Y-You’re good at this,” he murmured between soft moans. 

She withdrew her lips from his erection. “Perhaps you’re just easy to please,” she observed. Her voice was surprisingly haughty, as though Makoto had gravely insulted her. Feeling awkward, he mumbled an apology—although he wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for in the first place.

After what seemed like an eternity of silence kept at bay by only the faint melody of piano in the background, her lips pressed on his cock again. For at least another minute, Celeste continued to tease him, kissing and licking his shaft at irregular intervals but never actually committing to blowing him. Occasionally, she would lift a hand and massage his dick with her fingers, at one point briefly pumping her palm up his length before withdrawing her hand. 

Finally, however, she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and lowered her head until the majority of his cock was engulfed in her warm, wet mouth. Makoto grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists, trying to keep the feeling of an orgasm building at bay. 

As though hearing his thoughts, she began to bob her head up and down on his cock, her tongue swirling across his length and saliva sloshing about his head. Apparently, she was true to her word—she didn’t use any hands. The only sensation on his dick was the feeling of her soft lips and the hot, sloppy massaging of her tongue. The sound of bubbling, swishing drool quickly drowned out the piano ballad in the background, and he realized he desperately wished he could see her slobbering over his cock. 

“Ugh,” he groaned. “I think I’m going to cum… uh… Y-Your Highness…”

He expected her to instantly stop—perhaps even direct toward him a snide comment—but instead, she continued to suck his cock. If anything, her movements only accelerated, the pressure on his shaft intensifying as she tightened her tongue around his girth. 

“Um… did you hear me…?” he asked, his body quivering slightly. By then, it was too late, however. He could feel his cock turn rigid, a pool of fiery pleasure coalescing in his pelvis like a volcano on the verge of eruption. He gasped, his thoughts turning to static as he practically melted into the bed around him, trails of fire spiling into his veins and pulsating throughout his body. 

Then, it stopped.

Celeste sniggered. “I think we shall need to work on your endurance, Makoto.”

He groaned. “Wh-What!?”

“Indeed,” Celeste said, “it is quite tragic. I was just thinking we could move on to the grand finale of our little excursion.” He could only imagine the disappointment and disdain emanating from her face beyond the blindfold, probably mixed in with a healthy dose of amusement. “Hmm… to console myself,” Celeste announced, “I think I shall go find Hifumi and order him to fetch me a large cup of milk tea.”

Without a further word, Celeste climbed to her feet and began to walk away, her heels clacking with each step.

“W-Wait,” Makoto blurted. “Aren’t you going to… um… untie me, f-first?”

Celeste’s footsteps paused. She laughed softly, as though she had expected him to raise that question. “I think a true gentleman would be willing to wait for me, yes? Actually…” Her footsteps grew louder as she strolled around the room. “Put your legs together, please.” 

“D-Don’t tell me you’re going to tie my legs too…?”

“Oh my,” Celeste replied, “you know me so well, Makoto. Heh-heh. Now… I would prefer that you do not make me ask twice.”

Sighing, Makoto drew his legs together. Almost as soon as he had, he felt another length of rope wrap around his ankles. Within a few seconds, Celeste had tied another knot. Makoto tried to move, but with his arms and legs bound he was completely immobile. 

Celeste’s heels clicked across the carpet; a moment later, the door slammed shut, and the room was silent except for Makoto’s heavy breathing and the music of the gramophone. In total shock, he laid his head down on the pillow. Just a few moments later, he had been on the verge of having a mind-shattering orgasm. Now he was tied up, alone in Celeste’s room. His erection, painted with Celeste’s saliva, ached, and his entire body trembled as though he was holding his breath. 

This was the second time Makoto had been close to an orgasm only for Celeste to suddenly stop touching him; he assumed at this point it must’ve been an intentional ploy to screw him. Still, there was something enigmatic about Celeste’s intensity, her puzzling cocktail of condescension and compassion. Somehow, for at least a little while, he had been able to largely forget the horrors of their current predicament, and instead find himself absorbed completely by her overbearing presence.

Makoto didn’t know how long he laid there, submerged in his thoughts, but he could feel tiredness creeping up his spine and sinking its claws into his head. For what felt like hours—though it was likely more like fifteen minutes—he drifted in and out of sleep, breathing deeply. His limbs felt like lead, the piano a lullaby commanding him to sleep.

He was alerted, however, by the loud slamming of the door and the distinctive click-clack of Celeste’s heels as she walked over to the bed, taking a seat next to Makoto. Celeste sighed, lifting what sounded like a ceramic teacup. She took a small sip and gulped.

“Hmhm. Milk tea is so refreshing,” Celeste purred. “Wouldn’t you agree, Makoto?”

“Um… I-I can’t say I really drink milk tea that much…” he murmured, still half-asleep.

“Oh my,” Celeste murmured, sounding genuinely dejected. “That is quite unfortunate. I feel sorry that you have lived your life in such an uncivilized manner.”

Makoto decided to ignore her comment. “S-So… Hifumi made you tea?”

“Of course!” Celeste murmured, a cool hand trailing across Makoto’s thigh. “I found him in the dining hall, sitting alone. It was very pathetic, but he was very happy to make my tea for me.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, he was quite slow. I do very much apologize for the wait. I wanted to get back to you sooner.” 

“I-It’s okay,” Makoto said. It was weird hearing Celeste apologize for something. It was kind of sweet, even if she had just left him tied up naked in her room for a quarter of an hour for her own amusement.

Suddenly, Celeste’s hand swept across Makoto’s face and ripped his blindfold off. He flinched as light poured into his eyes once more, raising his arms to shield himself, but after a moment his vision had adjusted again.

Celeste was sitting on the bed by his legs with a rigid posture. Legs gracefully crossed, one hand was situated in her lap gripping an ornate saucer. In her other hand she grasped a white ceramic teacup; as Makoto watched, she brought the cup to her lips and took an elegant sip. The sight of her lips parting made him think about the sensation of her lips on his cock, and he felt a stirring in his pelvis. He found himself mesmerized by the subtle movements of her body: the twisting of her fingers, the sight of her thighs shifting ever-so-slightly, and her chest heaving up and down as she breathed slowly. 

Celeste must have noticed him staring, as her head swiveled. “You seem intrigued by something, Makoto.” 

“It’s nothing,” he murmured. “It’s just… um… I-I guess I was just admiring how pretty you are.” Instinctively, Makoto reached up to rub the back of his neck, but he was quickly reminded that his hands were bound together. “You know… especially your outfits. I like the whole… I dunno, aesthetic of it. It’s gothic, right?”

Celeste, about to take a sip, lowered her teacup. “Oh my,” she replied, smiling softly. “You are too kind, Makoto. Hmm… Have I ever told you? I design all my outfits myself—naturally, that includes this one as well.”

Makoto raised his eyebrows. “You did…? That’s honestly pretty amazing, Cel— uh, Your Highness.” He cleared his throat. It was interesting to hear about Celeste’s interests besides gambling—despite spending so much time with her, he just now realized he didn’t actually know her that well. Somehow, knowing that she had designed the intricate clothes she loved so much made him look at her differently. Maybe there really was more to her than met the eye, buried underneath her cold, almost alien exterior.

“It is nothing,” Celeste murmured, gazing into the distance. One hand still holding onto the saucer, she twirled a strand of her hair between two fingers—it almost seemed like she was nervous. 

“A-And… your hair is really pretty, too,” Makoto said. “You must put a lot of effort into it.”

Celeste didn’t turn her body, but her eyes flickered between him, the floor, and her teacup. She took a sip of her tea, and then gently placed the cup down on its saucer.

“I must confess,” she murmured, still avoiding eye contact, “I find you rather decent to look at as well… even if you have a hideous sense of fashion. Perhaps I should dress you up sometime. Heh-heh.” Makoto wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he had seen a hint of pink creeping into her pale skin. She looked almost… shy?

“Uh… that would be nice, I guess…?” As his eyes wandered her body, a question came to mind. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to ask it, but his curiosity was overwhelming. “So… I-I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but… do you intend on ever taking off your clothes while I’m here?”

Celeste almost spit out her tea, coughing slightly and gulping before putting down her teacup again. 

After taking a deep breath, she turned her head toward him, her brow furrowed and eyes widened. “Have you no shame?” she muttered, her accent faltering slightly.

Makoto felt a pit in his stomach. Maybe he’d made a mistake. “I-It’s nothing like that, Y-Your Highness,” he blurted. “It’s just… I think you’re really beautiful. …Still, I get if you think I’m not like, worthy, or whatever.”

Celeste gasped, lifting a palm to her lips. She opened and closed her mouth multiple times before replying. “Your audacity stuns me, Makoto,” she said. She was attempting to look intimidating, but her gaze was evasive, her body language uncertain as she lifted her teacup to her lips and took a long sip. 

“S-Sorry…” 

Celeste sighed, leaning her head on her fist. “Hm. Now,” she announced,, her voice regaining its previous grandeur, “...I must admit I am intrigued by your earlier offer to pleasure me with your hands. I suppose, too, at this point that you have earned the right to do it.” She smiled. “I will untie you now.”

“Thanks…” Makoto said. It was about time—his limbs felt stiff. 

Celeste stood up, placing her saucer and her tea-cup—apparently now empty—onto the dresser. Then, she stepped forward and leaned over Makoto, her sharp fingernails making quick work of the knot she had tied earlier. Just as quickly, she loosened the rope around his ankles. 

Makoto eagerly stretched his arms in front of him and to his side, shaking his hands slightly until the slight tingling prickling his skin dissipated. Celeste, meanwhile, looped around to the other side of the bed and discarded her heels before climbing onto the bed and resting her head on a small pile of pillows stacked against the headboard. She turned to Makoto. 

“Well?” 

Makoto nodded awkwardly, climbing across the bed. “Uh… one question, though…”

Celeste sighed, holding herself. “If I knew you were going to ask so many questions, I would have gagged you as well…”

Ignoring her comment, he gestured vaguely toward an object sitting next to Celeste. “What exactly is that thing?” It was a large black stuffed animal, some kind of bizarre bunny covered in white stripes; it was missing one eye, however, as though half its face had been ripped off.

“That is my voodoo doll,” Celeste said with a deadpan expression—if anything, she seemed in higher spirits now that she had something to talk about. “When I encounter an individual I dislike, I poke the doll with needles until they collapse in agonizing pain.” She smiled, an enigmatic twinkle in her eye. “Is there a problem with that?”

Makoto laughed awkwardly—he was starting to recognize what he thought were her attempts at humor, but her serious tone of voice nonetheless took him by shock. 

Celeste continued, her fingers interlocked under her grinning face. “Do not worry, Makoto. I only do it to people I dislike. I like you.”

Makoto blushed slightly. It was a simple comment, but it sounded powerful coming from someone like Celeste. 

“Now,” she said, resting her chin on her fist. “I do believe you were going to touch me, yes?”

Makoto nodded, but as he stared at her expression, he had a sudden urge come over him. Crawling forward, he lightly touched Celeste’s shoulder. She met his gaze; her eyes widened, but not in her typical exaggerated, choreographed manner. His heart thumping, Makoto extended his other hand and gripped the knot of her red tie, pulling her slightly forward. Celeste gasped as Makoto pressed his lips to hers, eagerly pressing his body against hers.

This time, the kiss felt different. Perhaps it was because he had initiated it, but it felt more primal—almost raw. He didn’t know who did it first, but soon they had each incorporated their tongues into the kiss, exploring one another’s mouths. Their movements were shy at first, but the kiss intensified almost exponentially with each passing second. Celeste moaned softly, and Makoto thought he could feel her heart thumping as her chest pressed against his. To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around Makoto’s back and pulled him closer against her.

Finally, Makoto leaned back, breathing heavily, a hand still gripping her tie. Celeste peered at him with shocked eyes, her lips darkened with saliva. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to interpret her expression. She had seemed equally passionate when they were kissing, but now she seemed almost… disturbed? Suddenly, she blinked and gazed away.

“Makoto,” she murmured. Her voice sounded different, however—he realized there was no sign of the exotic European accent she typically spoke with. For a moment, she sounded just like any other girl he had met at Hope’s Peak, just another scared person in this killing game—not some larger than life queen or emotionless husk.

“Ahem.” Celeste loudly cleared her throat. “That was… unexpected.” Just like that, her expression had turned back to stone, and her voice regained its usual sophistication. Makoto almost wondered if he had just imagined her speaking his name; her eyes seemed to bore a hole in his chest, and he slowly backed away, trailing his hand underneath her skirt until he reached her inner thigh and the edge of her lacey panties. Her skin was soft and cool to the touch—more surprisingly, however, it was slick with moisture. 

He traced his fingers across her thigh and gently rubbed her through her underwear. Then, he gripped the edges of her panties, pulling them toward him. Celeste lifted her hips and raised her legs, and soon Makoto had folded her underwear and placed it on the dresser. Then he returned to the front of her legs, massaging her legs until he reached her inner thighs. Finally, he pressed the pad of his fingers against her lips, gently rubbing across the length of her vulva with slow circular strokes.

All the while, Makoto carefully observed Celeste’s face, trying to discern any reactions to his touch. At first glance, her expression was as impenetrable as steel. As he rubbed her labia, however, he noticed her eyes flinch and her lips tremble. her thighs shifting ever so slightly. Occasionally, they would suddenly find themselves staring into one another’s eyes, drowning in one another’s gaze for several seconds only for one of them to awkwardly turn away. 

At last, he brought his hand up toward her clit, first circling it with his finger, and then finally gently massaging it directly. As soon as he touched her, Celeste gasped loudly. He thought he saw her breathing accelerate and her cheeks slightly redden, her eyes darting back and forth. Adjusting his seating position, Makoto lowered his finger to her entrance, his other hand taking its place at her clit. He looked up toward her, looking for some kind of sign of affirmation. She blinked and tilted her head, nodding slightly. 

Closing his eyes to focus, Makoto breathed deeply. Then, still rubbing her clit with his other hand, he inserted a finger inside her. She was surprisingly wet, but he still faced some resistance as he pushed into her. Makoto began to massage her insides, rubbing the pad of his finger across the inside of her pussy until he found the distinct spongy texture of her G-spot. He curled his finger, moving it in unison with the movement of his other hand on her clit. Celeste moaned softly, her legs squirming with each touch. He opened his eyes to find Celeste staring at her skirt, her eyes narrowing and almost glazing over, mouth hanging slightly open as she breathed heavily. Suddenly, she caught his gaze; her eyes widened for a moment, but she soon steeled her expression. 

Smiling slightly, Makoto pressed another finger against her entrance. He leaned his head forward, placing his lips against hers. She gasped softly, but soon absorbed herself into the kiss, reaching a hand to touch the nape of Makoto’s neck. Meanwhile, Makoto moved the second finger inside her, slowly pushing it forward until it, too, was massaging her G-spot. Celeste writhed, and Makoto could feel her breath shaken as they kissed. Her fingernails dug into the back of his neck. Sudden, her legs began to shake slightly, and her breath became even more jagged. As Makoto gazed into her eyes, he saw something akin to desperation. 

At that moment, however, she placed a hand on Makoto’s chest, pushing him back. Confused, Makoto withdrew his hands and tilted his head.

“I…want…” Celeste was speaking in barely a whisper, her speech breathy and shaky. Makoto leaned in, placing a hand underneath her chin. “I want you to… fuck me, Makoto.” 

Makoto’s eyes widened. The words were like a wave of fire striking his chest and face—immediately, he could feel his cock turning rock hard, his imagination running wild.

After the shock had a chance to wash over him, he nervously leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “O-Of course, Your Highness…”

“...You don’t need to call me that anymore,” Celeste replied, laughing softly. It somehow sounded more genuine than usual. 

Makoto nodded meekly. “W-Wait, but… do you have a condom with you?” With Sayaka, they had used a condom given to her by Monokuma. Somehow, though, he doubted that even Monokuma’s perverted mind would’ve expected this outcome. 

Celeste stared at Makoto with an exaggerated, forlorn expression, clutching her collar. “You insult me…”

“H-Huh!?” 

“There is nothing I hate more,” she murmured, “than the feeling of rubber inside me. It is completely soulless, like being penetrated by a balloon.” Her voice and expression had regained their earlier dignity, as though all the desperation and vulnerability inside her had instantly drained from her body. 

“Well, yeah… but—”

“Besides,” she said, interrupting him, “I have begun taking my regular birth control pills every day. I found them in the nurse’s office. Heh-heh. It is quite convenient.”

Makoto decided it wasn’t worth arguing with her. Besides, he couldn’t deny that his cock was rock hard, and the thought of fucking Celeste raw was a tantalizing one, especially after all the sexual frustration that she had built up with him over the afternoon.

For a moment, however, Celeste simply stared at him with a deadpan expression, idly adjusting the laces on her sleeves. “Well?”

“...What is it?” he asked. She must’ve said something he didn’t hear. 

“Are you going to beg?”

Makoto gasped, raising his arms up in front of himself. “B-Beg…?” His cheeks burned.

“But of course.” Celeste sat up and leaned forward, pressing her body against his. She grasped Makoto’s chin and angled his head until he was staring directly into her eyes. “Hmhm. Surely you did not think I would simply offer myself up to you just like that?” She simpered, her eyelashes fluttering. 

“W-Wait a minute,” Makoto blurted, determination in his voice. “You were the one asking me to fuck you a moment ago… Shouldn’t y-you be the one begging?”

Celeste let go of Makoto’s chin. “Oh.” She looked genuinely depressed as she spoke. “I guess I should not have said that. Sadly, you have won this round of chess, Makoto.”

Laughing awkwardly, Makoto gently pushed Celeste onto her back, gripping her tie. 

“Wait—” she interjected. “What are you doing?” Her voice shook, her accent becoming increasingly strained.

Makoto leaned over and kissed her briefly, hands still fiddling with her tie. “Um… What does it look like I’m doing?” Finally, he undid the knot, and with one deft movement of the hand he swept her tie off of her body. Almost immediately after, his fingers flew to the white ribbons holding her jacket together across her chest—soon, her jacket was splayed open, revealing her intricate white blouse underneath.

Celeste squirmed underneath his touch, and he cast a concerned glance toward her. “I-I can stop if you want,” he stammered. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

“No,” Celeste murmured. “It is quite alright… Keep going.” Her face was pale, her eyelashes fluttering as she stared into Makoto’s eyes. 

After several seconds of prolonged eye contact, Makoto grabbed the hem of her jacket; Celeste sat up halfway, and raised her arms as Makoto pulled the jacket from her torso. He carefully folded it and placed it on the dresser. Next, he attempted to undo the buttons of her blouse, a silky garment covered in white frills. He awkwardly struggled for a moment—the fabric was inflexible, and the button holes were ridiculously small—and embarrassment crawled up the walls of his stomach before he finally undid the first button, revealing Celeste’s collarbone. He glanced at her face, expecting to see a condescending sneer. Instead, her eyes were fixated on his face, almost as though she was in a daze—he realized that she must not have even noticed him struggle. Breathing deeply, he undid the next few buttons, exposing the black lace of her bra. At this, Celeste fidgeted, her gaze scurrying between Makoto and her almost naked chest. 

Makoto felt a stirring in his crotch as he undid the last button and parted her blouse to reveal the pale, smooth skin of her chest and stomach and her intricate bra in its entirety. Splayed across the bed, her shirt open, her twin drills spilling across the sheets, she looked much meeker than he had ever seen her before. He noticed that she was fidgeting with her hands, and a line of sweat glistened across her slightly furrowed brow. She took a deep breath, and Makoto found himself staring at the rise and fall of her chest. 

Celeste sat up again, and Makoto pulled off her blouse, leaving her torso almost totally naked. He leaned forward to kiss her, trailing his hands across her stomach. As their lips interlocked, he slipped his hands forward and lightly grasped her breasts through her bra. Celeste gasped, shifting her body slightly, but Makoto soon felt her tongue rubbing against his own, and she moaned with each squeeze of Makoto’s hands. 

Breathing heavily, Makoto whispered, “Um… I-I hope that this doesn’t sound strange, but… it’s really hot seeing you like this.”

Celeste’s eyes widened, and she blushed lightly. It seemed to him like she was straining to formulate a snappy response, but Makoto was already dragging his hands across her torso. Reaching her waist, he gripped the hem of her skirt and gently pulled the fabric down her legs. As the intricate layers slid down her thighs, her hips became visible, followed by her pussy—naturally, she hadn’t put her panties back on since he began fingering her. Finally, he dragged the skirt across her feet and placed it to the side. Moving one step ahead of him, Celeste reached behind her back and undid the clasps of her bra, reaching over to place it on the dresser. 

Celestia Ludenberg was completely nude splayed out on the bed in front of him.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise—he had quite literally been undressing her, after all. Still, the absurdity of the situation suddenly came crashing down on him. Celeste, the Ultimate Gambler who claimed to be of noble German and French heritage, who seemingly spent every minute of her day walking in several lavish layers of fine fabrics, sipping milk tea, and insulting others in a vague, sophisticated accent, was actually naked in front of him. 

Makoto crawled forward, pressing his body against hers, his erection squeezing against her stomach as their torsos met. He leaned forward and kissed her, reaching down to massage her breasts, his fingers circling her areolas and gently rubbing her nipples. Celeste squirmed as their tongues met, and their foreheads nudged as Makoto sunk down onto her body. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached up and wrapped her hands around Makoto’s back. Her nails dug into his skin, but he didn’t mind. He was too busy savoring the moment—the soft touch of her skin, the warm strongarming of her tongue, her silky hair brushing against his side. 

Makoto opened his eyes, gulping. Celeste continued to stare at him expectantly, smirking ever so slightly. 

“Well?” she asked, smiling coquettishly. Her eyelashes fluttered; even naked, her red eyes gave her an air of royalty, like rubies encrusted inside the crown of some ancient king. Makoto could feel the warmth of her breath brushing against his face as strands of her hair intermingled with his own. For a moment, he found himself drunk on her scent, a blend of her luxurious perfume and the subtle salty aroma of her sweat. 

Celeste’s words, however, snapped him back to reality. “Hmm. Makoto, how long do you intend on staring at me for?” She laughed softly, moving one hand to her lips while her other fingers continued to prod Makoto’s back. “I do hope that the sight of me has not turned you into a catatonic vegetable. Heh-heh.” She sighed. “That would be quite the shame.”

Makoto blinked and inhaled sharply. “Oh. S-Sorry…” She was noticeably more relaxed than she had been even a few minutes ago—he was glad that she felt comfortable around him.

Leaning back, Makoto grabbed hold of his aching erection. Celeste spread her legs, and Makoto carefully lined the tip up with her entrance. He couldn’t help but notice that her thighs were slick with moisture—between her legs there also sat a noticeably dark spot on the bedsheet. As anticipation washed over him from every angle, he glanced at Celeste. 

“Y-You’re sure about this… right?”

Celeste smirked. “You are truly adorable, sometimes.” She took a deep breath. “I have already asked you to fuck me, yes? I do not think it can be any clearer than that.” 

Makoto rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing. “Y-Yeah, okay…” After taking a deep breath, he began to rub the head of his penis across her lips. Celeste, leaning on her elbows, stared intently at the movements of Makoto’s cock, her finger drumming on the bedsheets. Finally, Makoto couldn’t wait any longer. He placed the head at her entrance and thrusted forward.

Makoto groaned gutturally, his vision blurring as he felt the warm, wet tightness of her pussy engulfing his dick. Celeste gasped and threw her head back into the pillow, arching her back. For several seconds, Makoto leaned over her unmoving, arms planted by her sides, relishing the feeling of her walls squeezing on his bare cock. Biting her lip, she met his eyes and nodded. 

At her signal, Makoto began to thrust in and out of her with long, sensual strokes. 

Every time he plunged into her, his mind seemed to short circuit as though he was being struck by a thousand lightning strikes at once, moans spilling from his lips like a reservoir cascading through a collapsing dam. Celeste’s thighs squeezed against his hips, her calves wrapping around his back—the soft fabric and frills of her stockings massaged his skin. Her arms, too, wrapped around his shoulders, as though she was putting every ounce of her strength into wrangling Makoto closer to her. Her nails dug into his skin, sliding across his back with each and every thrust. 

Makoto’s thoughts had been reduced almost entirely to static, but in the recesses of his mind he vaguely wondered if this was reality, or if he had fallen into some cursed fever dream. He was fucking Celestia Ludenberg. His cock was thrusting in and out of Celestia Ludenberg . Celestia Ludenberg’s arms and legs were wrapped around him, and she was groaning with each and every thrust. 

Celeste caught his eye, and she stared at him with an intense, feverish—almost terrifying—gaze. He reached forward and gripped her breasts, another hand tilting her chin. Makoto was completely on top of her, his face just inches away from hers as they stared into one another’s eyes, each breathing heavily. 

“Don’t you dare stop, Makoto,” she hissed. Her words were harsh, but her voice was meek, as though her lungs had been robbed of air. The woman in front of him seemed a far cry from the person who had invited him to her room so long ago. Her eyelashes fluttered as she stared at him nervously—it was almost as though she was surprised by her own words as well. 

Soon, Makoto couldn’t even think of that, however. His mind had melted into a soup; he was capable of thinking only of the sensations he was directly experiencing—the warmth of her body beneath his, the warm tightness of her pussy, the pressure of her thighs, breasts, and arms, the scratching of her nails, her subtle moaning, the softness of the bed and pillow underneath him, and the soft piano playing in the background. 

Smiling slyly, however, he reached down to touch Celeste’s pussy, placing his thumb on her clit and letting the momentum of his thrusts move his hand. Celeste groaned, her breaths morphing into a low rattle—her vocalizations were completely antithetical to her typical persona, but it only turned Makoto on more as he rubbed her clit and thrusted into her. Suddenly, Celeste threw her head back, letting out a low gasp that, over several seconds, morphed into a shrill shriek; her thighs quaked and tightened around Makoto—her nails scratched his skin painfully, but he didn’t mind. 

Makoto could feel an orgasm building up inside him, too. It was as though his muscles, skin, and bones were dissolving into a puddle of ecstasy. His body ached from the exertion, but he had no intention of stopping himself—and even if he wanted to, Celeste had already seized him like a boa constrictor. 

As if reading his sensing that he was on verge of orgasm, Celeste leaned forward, whispering toward his ear.

“Cum inside me,” she moaned. “Do it, Makoto.” Her eyes were like two pools of fire burning holes into his soul; her mouth hung slightly open, a small line of saliva dribbling at the edge of her lips. In the back of his mind, he was vaguely aware of the fact that her voice no longer had an accent whatsoever.

Makoto’s eyes widened, and he began to thrust faster inside her. His breath was shaky, pleasure submerging him. His vision seemed to contort into a blurry haze, then a black void; her walls pulsated and squeezed him from every angle.
“C-Celeste…” he groaned, squeezing her breasts as he rammed into her for the final time. He felt an explosion in his crotch—his eyes glazed over, as though he had been blinded by flashing light. It was as though all the bolts of electricity that had been pulsing inside his body ever since she had first touched him were being discharged at once as his throbbing cock shot semen into her pussy. Celeste’s eyes widened, her brow furrowed, a moan slipping from her lips as every last drop of Makoto’s cum filled her. 

For a moment, Makoto remained inside her, his body pressed against hers as her legs wrapped around him. After what seemed like ages, she withdrew her arms from his back and lowered her legs, stretching her muscles and grunting. Finally, Makoto took a deep breath and removed his cock from her pussy, a small line of semen and juices dripping from his shaft as he did. Celeste was quivering, still breathing heavily. Finally, she sat up. There was a tinge of pink on her cheeks, and her forehead glistened with sweat, her lips wet with saliva. Her hair was frazzled—one of the ribbons of her bonnet had somehow come undone during the fucking. 

And yet, somehow, she still had an air of composure as she smiled at Makoto. He felt a flutter in his chest.

Celeste cleared her throat loudly, interlocking her fingers. “So,” she murmured. “It appears that this was a successful promotion ceremony.” Her speech was still shaky, but she had regained her signature accent and dignified tone of voice.

“Huh?” Makoto asked. “P-Promotion?” His mind was still reeling from his orgasm, and even now the sight of Celeste’s hot, messy figure was short-circuiting his brain.

“Of course,” Celeste said, grinning. “Did you already forget why I called you here?”

“Oh… right. Th-The whole knight thing… right?” He had completely forgotten at this point, and even thinking back it felt like it had been years ago since she first said those words to him. 

“One more thing. Surely by now you are willing to accept my offer, yes?” She stared at him expectantly, resting her head on a closed fist. “Of course, I think you now understand that there are certain… perks.” 

“Uh… s-sure…?” Makoto still wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to, but somehow it seemed right as her penetrating gaze seized his heart. 

Celeste smiled softly. “I am glad to hear that. Now, I suppose since you are my servant, I can order you around, yes?” She giggled softly. “For your first action as my loyal knight, I would like you to fetch me a towel.” 

“O-Okay.”

Makoto fetched her a towel, and they spent the next hour cleaning themselves up and taking turns showering in Celeste’s bathroom. By then, it was almost nighttime—Makoto knew that Monokuma would come onto the monitor anytime now, announcing that is was 10 o’ clock at night.

“While I would not mind your presence during the next,” Celeste said,  "We have agreed as a group that we should all stay in our respective rooms at night, yes? Besides, I believe that pesky bear will become deeply intrigued if he does not see you in your room all night.” She cleared her throat. "And... one last thing. I believe it goes without saying that nobody else needs to know about this, yes?" Her gaze was evasive. 

“Y-Yeah, that makes sense,” Makoto said. He felt a pang of affection as he gazed at her, but truthfully, he was also exhausted, and he didn’t mind the prospect of having some time by his lonesome to recharge. So, he quickly gathered up his clothes and dressed himself—Celeste, meanwhile, rested on the bed. They briefly kissed one more time—then, Makoto took a step away from the bed. 

“Farewell, my loyal knight,” Celeste called out, waving. “Heh-heh.” She blew a kiss as Makoto strolled to the door. After one look back toward the bed, he twisted the doorknob and stepped out into the hallway.

He took a deep breath as he swung the door closed behind him. 

Almost immediately, however, he saw someone standing in front of him. It was Kyoko in her usual purple blazer, white dress shirt, and orange tie. Her arms were crossed, and she seemed deeply tired, but her eyes widened slightly when she noticed Makoto.

“Oh,” he blurted. “G-Good afternoon, Kyoko—or, evening, I guess.”

“Good evening,” she said. After a moment, she gestured at Makoto’s face. “You have… something on your chin.”

Makoto gasped and reached up a finger—sure enough, there was a strand of saliva dribbling from his lip. He realized suddenly that Kyoko must’ve seen him come out of Celeste’s room, and his cheeks flushed—he wasn’t sure if Kyoko noticed his embarrassment, but she seemed to almost be smiling as she wheeled around.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. Without another word, she strolled down the hallway toward her room, leaving Makoto standing bewildered by Celeste’s door.