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Selfies	By : Setsubou Category: +A through F > Dangan Ronpa Views: 3015 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Danganronpa and do not make any money off of this work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Selfies
- 1
Notes: Inspired by and takes place after the decidedly fanservicey episode 2 of Danganronpa 3’s Despair Arc. Because there is not nearly enough Mahiru fanfiction.
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The door to her dorm room closed with a satisfying click as the girl leaned against it, her breaths labored and hot. Her shoes slid off almost as an afterthought. Hiyoko’s prank had rendered their entire class a heaping mess of hormones earlier that day. It wasn’t a pleasant experience for her – well, that was not literally true, but she wasn’t going to say otherwise. Lifting her beloved camera, she could see the evidence of her true reaction.
If anyone asked, she would tell them that she did not like to take selfies.
Flipping through the new photos told her everything she needed to know. She really wanted to delete them, but she would never delete a photo once it was taken. Not even if they were like this. Not even if they showed a face that out of her mind.
If anyone asked, she would say they were too embarrassing.
What had she been about to do? What had she been about to do right there in that classroom? While snapping photos of it, no less? It was a silly question to ask herself. She was about to do what she always did when those feelings welled up inside her.
If anyone asked, she would claim innocence and act scandalized at the idea of self-pleasure.
She claimed she didn’t like selfies. She claimed she had never masturbated. But she was only human. Even though she would never admit it, these two things actually tended to happen at the same time for her.
If anyone asked, Mahiru would deny it up and down.
Click.
Her hand left the lock after setting it in place
“Geez… Stupid Teruteru… how dare he even make something like that?”
She fumbled with her ribbon for a moment, loosening it enough to pull it free from her blouse and laying it gently on her dresser.
“And what the hell Hiyoko?! Why did she let me fall for the prank too?”
Her blazer came next, the article rested on the back of her chair. Even in a situation like this, Mahiru wasn’t about to be lazy with her clothes. They needed to stay neat both for her pride and because she wouldn’t want even the slightest evidence left behind of her activities.
Her skirt followed, and her eye for detail began to notice a recurring element. She checked her blazer, but it was less evident there. She unbuttoned and removed her blouse, inspecting it carefully.
All three were slightly damp with sweat to varying degrees.
“Great.”
So much for keeping her clothes neat. She was going to have to change after all. And wash these.
Sitting down on her bed now clad only in her lingerie and socks, she reached for her camera again before stopping.
“Ah- wait. Almost forgot again.”
Mahiru rose from the bed and slipped into her bathroom for only a moment before returning with a full-body towel in hand. After covering as much of the bottom half of the bed as she could, she sat down on the soft and – more importantly – absorbent cloth. Sweaty sheets she could deal with when she tossed them in the wash with her clothes. Drenched sheets… drenched with that… were another matter. They would be difficult to hide on the way to the laundry and tended to smell much more strongly than sweat.
“Right. Don’t want a repeat of that incident.”
Mahiru wiggled around until she was in a comfortable position that would allow her both easy access and her head to rest. She grabbed her camera once again and opened the first image. She was immediately reminded of several things. One, her face was too plain and too freckled; way too average for a so-called Ultimate. Two, Mahiru could never quite believe that she was capable of making these lewd expressions. She was damned lucky that she could publicly explain that incident away as a fever-induced moment of insanity thanks to a perverted cook and a mischievous girl. Three, even if Mahiru thought her talent was boring, even she had to admit that it was still Ultimate level. It would take an unparalleled level of vanity to get off on her own erotic selfies if they were any ordinary photos.
Mahiru Koizumi was not a vain girl.
Her Ultimate talent lent itself well to this odd fetish of hers. Without even really trying, she perfectly captured the sheer eroticism of her own likeness in that state within an everlasting moment. The camera showed only the truth to her, unmitigated by posing or pretense. It showed just how human she was. Just how vulnerable she was. How aroused she was.
Mahiru’s right hand slowly, almost casually drifted down to chest. Her breasts weren’t the biggest but she was by no means small. Her hand splayed over her right breast, not completely encompassing it, but enough to caress it snugly in her palm. She hits a very noticeable bump and twitches ever so slightly in response. Her hand rises slightly as she draws her finger to that spot and rubs it slowly.
She flips to the next photo. It’s a very similar shot to the first one; she had taken them in rapid succession. There was one significant difference in that her mouth was hanging open. It looked alluring enough that she would kiss herself if she could.
The bud under her fingertip had risen more from her touch and grown stiffer. Mahiru was rubbing her thighs together now as the warm feeling in her loins became more intense. She was getting impatient, and she had things to do later.
Mahiru set down her camera for a moment and slightly raised her back from the bed while both her arms set to work on removing her bra. The article was lazily tossed aside as she had stopped caring about the neatness of already-soiled clothes. Her panties were slid down next, but she stopped for a moment after removing them and considered an idle thought.
“They’re so damp already...” She hesitantly brought them closer to her face and lightly sniffed the garments, expecting to recoil at the odor. Instead, she somehow found it enticing. Was it strange to get excited by the smell of your own soiled underwear? Maybe it was weird, or maybe it was normal. Mahiru wasn’t sure she cared right now.
The panties followed their companion over the side of the bed shortly after. Such a consideration didn’t really compare to what she did next. Mahiru flipped around her camera and expertly positioned it above herself, aiming steadily with the precision of an artisan without equal.
Snap!
While she could have kept browsing through the ones she took in class, the girl was feeling increasingly aroused and felt it was time to step things up a notch. The new image displayed her nude body in all its glory, slightly flushed from a combination of her activities and her embarrassment. A few droplets of sweat had formed all over, but wasn’t soaked yet. At least not all over her body.
While her photos from class only showed her plain face, this one showed her plain figure. A light dusting of freckles draped her shoulders and neckline, but they mostly vanished the further down her body she looked. Her breasts laid plump against her chest, appearing slightly larger than they were due to her position, gravity, and the angle of the camera. Each was capped by a large areola, not overly so, but certainly larger than what could be considered average. They were normally a shade lost in between light peach and light pink, but arousal had darkened their color and made them firm and bumpy. Centered in each, her yet darker nipples were prominent and erect with fully developed ducts.
Mahiru’s hands grasped them both and started to toy with them while her eyes wandered further down the photo. Her belly was pale and free of blemishes or freckles, split by a well-defined navel that she considered maybe one of her only cute spots. Her left hand drifted down to it while the right began to clasp around her hard nipple. She twisted and tugged at it while gently sliding her other fingers into the valley of her navel, the pleasure mixing with a slight tickle as she let out a soft moan.
Her eyes landed on her pubic mound where they were immediately drawn to the dark and very red curls. They were few, and probably the only part of her body that hadn’t quite finished puberty, so she had never needed to trim down there. Even more noticeable was a small, if distinct pebble of flesh that peeked out at the top of her slit. This little thing was the whole reason she was here now. Her clitoris had a bad habit of being one of the first parts of her body to get excited, and when it grew erect it poked visibly past her labia and tended to rub against her panties. Needless to say, it made the moments when perverted thoughts swam in her mind quickly become uncomfortable and self-sustaining at the same time.
Mahiru restlessly pawed at her tit for a little longer, but the other hand returned to her camera.
It was time for a new angle.
The photographer sat up and spread her legs wide, her right hand reluctantly leaving her nipple alone in favor a new task. Carefully positioning the camera with her left, her right fingers slowly and gently parted her folds.
Snap!
Once again laying down but without readjusting her legs, Mahiru examined the new photo. This angle included her now significantly more heated face at the very top. Was that drool? She quickly checked and sure enough there was a small trail of saliva at the corner of her mouth. That damn aphrodisiac got her way too worked up.
Her breasts were slightly in view, but they really served better to draw her eye to the centerpiece of the shot: her crotch. As she gazed at the photo, her right hand went to work where her eyes landed. First up was a small spot at the bottom of the photo that caught her attention. It was narrow, tightly-puckered hole surrounded by a brown ring of skin. As Mahiru idly played with her anus, she briefly recalled reading on some porn site that the AV actresses sometimes bleached theirs. At one point it had been a concern for her, but she also read it wasn’t the healthiest practice. She stretched and played with the rim, noticing its wetness. Judging by the photo, it wasn’t just sweat. A trail of milky-white drew her sight up to her vaginal canal, the obvious source of the discharge. The powerful camera captured even the inside of the tunnel, where she could see just part of the thin membrane that was her hymen. Her finger gently played with her opening, smearing the creamy wetness around it and briefly dipping inside, ushering a louder moan from her than before.
Mahiru’s other hand busied itself with her left nipple and breast, giving them the same attention that her right had gotten. She closed her eyes and slid her finger back into her entrance, careful enough not to go too deep, but much more firmly pressed against her inner walls. In and out she began plumbing herself until her breathing quickened and her moans became frequent.
Opening her eyes once again, her gaze started from her canal and moved up to her urethra. In the photo it was slightly open from both the stretching of her labia and her own arousal, dribbling a clear fluid from within. She felt more of what must have been the same liquid sliding into her palm. Slipping out her pointer finger, she replaced it inside of her with her middle digit. Her pointer was now slick with her juices, and it felt good against her urethra as it moved up to rub it. That itchy-cravy feeling was welling up inside her loins as Mahiru picked up the pace of her pumping finger.
Finally, her eyes landed on a much better view of her very erect clitoris, protruding prominently out of a small hood that did little to cover it even when unaroused. Her clit wasn’t particularly large, but the hood was particularly short. On the plus side, it gave her thumb easy access when she brushed it against the nub.
“Nnnnngah!”
Sensitive as always, it positively throbbed with pleasure, if the way it practically made her sing was any indication. Erect and slick, it held firmly in place when she rubbed it, shooting lightning through her body as all prior calmness began to slip away. Her thumb flicked it around, pressed it like a button, and slid around its girth, causing her to buck her hips with every movement.
Mahiru pressed her middle finger firmly against the top of her inner walls once, then twice, and started a rhythm that synchronized with the efforts of her thumb. She roughly played with both of her breasts with her left hand, alternating between them with gropes, twists, tugs, presses, and flicks. The same treatment was delivered to her clitoris by her right, and she could feel fireworks in her body going off. She was past the point of no return now as convulsions and contractions gripped her body while her moans echoed unchecked in her room.
Splurt!
The sound of a gushing liquid reached her ears as a feeling of something spraying from her crotch accompanied her orgasm. Absentmindedly noting she had squirted again, she rode out the pleasurable contractions and continued working her fingers.
“Ah!”
Splurt!
Another burst ejaculated from her slit, soaking the towel she placed before for exactly this reason. Her left hand quickly shot from her chest down to her ass and shoved a finger inside, the puckered hole well-lubricated from her soaked slit.
“Ooh!”
Splurt!
Each second brought a new tide as the photographer played with herself with reckless abandon. A quick, scandalous thought crossed her mind as her hand grabbed up her camera and held it outside of the line of fire.
Splurt! Snap!
Splurt! Snap!
Splurt! Snap!
Finally, she dropped like a limp sack to her bed, and the only noises left in the room were her heavy pants as she caught her breath.
Mahiru’s climax felt like it lasted an eternity and now it actually might, captured within her camera.
-
Cleanup was probably the biggest pain out of this whole affair every time it happened.
As Mahiru had found out the hard way when she first started masturbating, she was a squirter. It had caused a mess of her sheets the first time it happened, and it led to an all-around awkward and very uncomfortable conversation when her father opened the door wondering what the hell she was screaming about.
The towels served their purpose: she could easily explain their dampness when she took them to the laundry on the off chance someone asked questions. She could fold up her sheets and clothes as normal and take them as well. Nobody would be any the wiser, and with soundproofed rooms, no one could possibly have heard her. Mahiru would maintain her image of innocence when next she saw her classmates, newly refreshed and ready to continue her school life.
The only remaining evidence was the photos she took. They were easy enough to take care of, but Mahiru would never erase a photo. When all else was put away, she transferred all of the risqué and straight-up erotic photos to a file in her laptop, fated to be buried among others of their kind in a very well hidden folder.
Selfies were always so embarrassing.
- 1
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Selfies