Undead Labyrinth

Clutching to her chest the parchment map—browned and brittle like some ancient writ—that Marie had handed her, Iris took her first step into the Undead Labyrinth, its hundred floors yawning open like the maw of some colossal beast.

One stair at a time, down into the damp and sunless deep, a reek of rot that stabbed at her nostrils and a bleak chill that burrowed into her bones raked roughly through her hair. Yet there was not a whisper of hesitation in her stride—the stride of a priestess of the Sariel Faith, tempered by purification rites performed again and again. She believed, unshakably, that even the darkness of this deep labyrinth was nothing more than a mirage before the holy light of Goddess Sariel.

Before long, from the darkness hugging the damp stone walls, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a pack of skeletons came shambling and crawling out with unearthly wails, blue glints flickering in their eye sockets, joints creaking with every lurch. As though there were no need at all to reach for elaborate, resplendent High-tier Holy Arts, Iris lightly raised her staff steeped in sacred power and murmured a low chant.

The chant slipping from between her lips became the trigger: blazing arrowheads of light lanced out ferociously in every direction and swallowed the darkness in a single gulp. The undead could not even loose a final scream before the pure-white flames of purification took them, shattering them white and scattering them to ash. The surrounding air was scoured clean in an instant, and as silence settled back over the passage, Iris gave a small derisive sniff and muttered, half to steady herself.

"What, that's all? Nothing but small fry? Keep this pace up and I'll be nearing the deepest floor before I know it—no trouble at all, and the lord of the undead will fall to me in a walkaway victory."

It was the very instant that complacency had melted the tension from her body: Iris's boot came down, unthinking, upon a faintly sunken seam in the floor—a hairline gap in the warding array.

Oh no—!

Even as a sharp alarm tolled within her, a flustered shriek burst from her lips.

"No way... did I just step on a trap...?"

Behind her, as she cast frantic glances in every direction, numberless summoning circles of ominous violet sprang into being and bloomed open. From within them countless tentacles, grotesquely coated in viscous slime, lashed out on all sides, and in the space of a breath they had wound themselves around Iris's slender limbs and begun binding them fast.

"Kyaaah—!"

Jolted by the ambush and the hideous feel of them, Iris screamed and let the staff she had gripped with all her strength tumble powerlessly to the stone.

But these tentacles—I burned every last one of them to nothing with that holy magic just now. Why are they still alive? Still moving? Don't tell me...

Caught in the tenacious coils crushing her whole body and the sticky slime oozing over her skin, her eyes stretched wide with horror as she screamed inside.

Holy magic... it has no effect on them...?!

At that very moment, the slippery tendrils wormed through the thin seams of her nun's habit and began groping, rough and searching, across her most secret and sensitive places.

"Haahnn... nnah... hnnaaa..."

The unlooked-for stimulus raced up her nerves and slammed directly into her brain, and wanton moans came bursting from Iris's mouth past all restraint. In the same breath, the jeweled necklace hanging at her throat began to shed a faint, ill-omened violet radiance in every direction.

Oh... now that I think of it, Lady Marie told me this pendant would become a talisman to protect me if I ever found myself in danger...

But her body knew better than those remembered words. Too late, instinct registered the frigid, grotesque aura of magical power seeping from around the necklace, and Iris shuddered, the color draining from her face. A dreadful wrongness—as though the precious magic and life force inside her were being siphoned away in reverse—set her grinding her teeth in mute fury.

Wait... this is... it's drinking in my power, isn't it...? No one ever... no one ever told me a single thing about this...!

Of course, the truth—that this was precisely Marie's meticulous, merciless design—was a cruelty that the naive saint candidate, wholly oblivious to what was happening to her, could not have begun to imagine.

The tentacles dragged the straps of her habit down over her shoulders with coarse insistence, baring her plump white breasts naked to the air. And when the clinging slime began its patient, unrelenting caress of her stiffened ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nipples, her makeshift wall of defense collapsed outright, and she broke into shameful song once more.

"Ahhn, hnnghaa...! Don't! I said stooop—ahhn!"

Tears, deep shame, and an inexplicable dread were all knotted together in her voice as she thrashed and strained against her bonds.

"Even looking like this, I'm a man on the inside...! I've never once even touched myself with my own hands—and there isn't one speck of me that wants my first-ever experience in a woman's body to be at the hands of low-grade monsters like you!"

Shrieking and flailing as though she could argue the tentacles into surrender, Iris shuddered between the revulsion and the pleasure welling up through it.

"It's filthy... haah, honestly... stop it, please...!"

She twisted her body every which way in a desperate flail for escape, but the harder she struggled, the deeper the tentacles only bored, dogged and unerring. Then, without warning, a torrent of pleasure struck her brain like a thunderbolt and swept mercilessly down every nerve she had.

Psshhhh——!

"Haahhaaaaahn... I'm... I'm breaking... hnaaah!!!"

Her eyes rolled back entirely of their own accord, and her breasts—several times the size of her head—bucked roughly up and down as she squirted through her climax. Convulsing from head to toe, her senses scattered, Iris thought desperately through the fog.

What... is this...? Could something have been... smeared on them...? Some kind of drug...?

What followed was crueler still. Every inch of her skin, every fine nerve across her body, swelled into an almost unbearable sensitivity, until even the cold air brushing past her translated into crackling currents of climax.

My whole body's... gotten so sensitive... it feels... too goood...♡

Murmuring to herself like someone wholly enslaved to pleasure, she suddenly dragged her gaze downward, toward the epicenter of this terrible bliss. There, a host of tentacles was spewing hot slime this way and that, stubbornly working to melt away the last citadel of her dignity—her panties.

But Iris seized upon the one thing left she could trust in some far corner of her mind—her faith in Marie—and flung a defiant retort at the tentacles through pleasure-fogged eyes.

Hoo... hoo... pull yourself together! You cannot fall apart in a place like this.

"These panties are the Sacred Girdle—a holy relic bestowed on me by Lady Marie herself! While its lock holds fast, no strength that low-grade monsters like you possess will ever, ever break through!"

She gave a scornful little sniff and pressed on, all but taunting them.

"Hmph, how unfortunate for you, then~ A saint candidate's body must remain pure at all times! Without the key, neither spellcraft nor a monster's strength can ever gain entranc—ahhn, nnngh!"

Before ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she could even finish, a crackling moan slipped out at the stimulus flooding up her spine, but Iris forced her scattered mind back into order, coaxing herself onward and onward.

That's right... even these things will tire eventually—they can't keep this up forever. So clench your teeth and endure until they give up...

But perhaps that arrogant provocation had prodded some grotesque nerve. Whether the tentacles understood her words or were simply possessed of a beast's stubbornness, there was no telling—yet they began to churn several times more violently, more savagely than before, hurling themselves upon her lower body.

And so the hours passed. One. Two. And before she knew it, three.

As time wore on, the tentacles showed no fatigue whatsoever—if anything they grew only more tenacious, scraping roughly against her panties and subjecting her most private place to a patient, pitiless ravaging. By now Iris's panties hung limp and sodden, drenched through and through with her own overflowing nectar and the tendrils' viscous slime.

"Haa, haa... please... stop... please let me go... hnn, hck..."

Gazing at the tentacles with glaze-eyed entreaty, Iris was steadily losing the will to fight.

These things... they have no thought of giving up at all... And my panties should be immune to physical force—but that sticky fluid of theirs is... bit by bit... dissolving them...?

The tentacles had already forced her legs wide apart to either side and pinned them fast. In that humiliating posture—denied even the mercy of closing her knees—Iris rebelled with everything she had, straining desperately to draw her thighs together.

Please... please, my panties, just hold out a little longer...!

She wailed the plea inwardly like a prayer—but that hope was trampled into the mud without ceremony.

Creeeak, squelch—

"Aaah... no... they're coming off...♡"

The coarse friction searing nakedly through the fabric proved too much for her clitoris, swollen already past its limit—and at last it popped out beyond the cloth.

No... no, it's exposed... please, please don't let them notice... don't let them see...!

But her desperate wish went unheard. The tentacles pounced on that weakness without a heartbeat's delay, their tips latching onto the exposed bud at once—sucking it, pinning it, twisting it—unleashing every manner of humiliating caress in turn.

"Nooo...♡ get off meee... please, get off... hnaaahh!"

Between breaths too ragged to string even a few words together, obscene moans poured out of her without pause.

"My... my most sensitive spot... being forced over the edge... so rough—aaahhhn...♡ The pleasure's... ringing through my whole brain... my head's going white... ah, I'm—I'm cummiiing...♡"

Smeared with tears and snot and the drool overflowing the corners of her mouth, Iris fountained her nectar in all directions with every twist and suck of the tentacles, her juices long since past all containment, soaking the floor beneath her through and through.

In the depths of that despair she screamed herself hoarse at the empty air, her voice gone wholly wanton.

"Somebody... somebody, please, help meee...♡ At this rate... I'm going to... break apart... hck, hnaaahh...♡"

And then—at that very moment—

From behind a shadowed alcove of the soundless, lightless labyrinth drifted the crisp click-clack of heels striking clearly against the cold stone floor.

The figure that emerged, parting the dark gloom as she came, was none other than Marie—the very woman who, mere moments before Iris had entered this labyrinth, had entrusted her with this recklessly dangerous special mission.

Marie approached with unhurried elegance and parted her lips around a cold smile.

"Oh dear~ it seems something dreadful has happened to you."

The instant that voice reached her, Iris's glazing eyes flared wide and she called the name in desperate urgency.

"La—Lady Marie...!"

Trembling from head to toe, bound fast in tentacles, she stared up at Marie—and in that instant, just as when she had faced her in the receiving room, a surge of heat came boiling up from the deepest part of her belly, and her womb began to quiver faintly. As the sensation sank, heavy, down between her hips, a pleasure of an entirely different order from anything the tentacles had wrung from her clit struck through her whole body—one rooted in the womb itself, melting her clear to the marrow.

"Haauu... nnn, aaah... my womb's... trembling again... nnaaaa..."

Moaning and gasping in a violently shaking voice, Iris's face went slack, her mind unable even to take in the gravity of her situation. Ruined as her body was, she still believed this woman to be her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one and only savior, come to rescue her—so she fought the pleasure down by a thread and begged in a drenched, warbling voice.

"La... Lady Marie... that map you gave me... is it really... really a properly charted map...?"

Even with her body shivering apart beneath the violent pleasure, she pressed on, at the edge of tears.

"Maybe the charting was wrong... or maybe I've simply mixed up the monster territories completely... aaah, hnn...! No—never mind that... this situation, right now... couldn't you please, please do something, anything to fix iiit...?"

But rather than answer her desperate appeal, Marie only curled the corners of her mouth into an unpleasant, serpentine smile.

Iris could not begin to guess why Marie should be wearing such an expression, and so she simply stared at her, dazed, her face flushed scarlet with pleasure-drunk heat.

Marie looked quietly down at the girl sobbing and gasping beneath the unbearable pleasure, and remarked, almost idly.

"Ah~ no, no♡ this is simply too much fun. I baited a hook with that flashing little desire of yours—and look how beautifully you took it~♡"

While Iris blinked her vacant eyes at that venomous sweetness, Marie took hold of her own sleeves and began to shed her garments piece by piece. Habit and cloak dropped to the floor one after another until, at last, wearing nothing but a single pair of panties, Marie closed in on Iris slowly, something glistening and sticky kindling in her gaze.

"Wh... what...?"

At her actions Iris whispered in confusion—and Marie, grinning wickedly, laid the truth bare.

"Sorry to tell you this, Iris-chan, but the 'urgent business' was, of course, a barefaced lie—and the boss of this Undead Labyrinth? I put it down by my own hand ages ago."

Marie gave a light shrug and continued.

"I set that trap with my own hands, too. And the map I handed you, the pendant I gave you... you believed in every single piece of it without a whisper of doubt, didn't you?"

She drew close and tapped a fingertip against the white panties locked tight at Iris's hips, deliberately heaping fresh pleasure onto the hypersensitive bud beyond them.

"Now then—it's time for your punishment."

With a casual flick of her fingers Marie undid the seal she herself had laid, and the instant the lock released, Iris's panties slid limply down her thighs.

"Haaaaaahn—! Hnnnggghhh...!"

Not missing for a heartbeat the sight of her bare, defenseless pussy laid naked to the air, the waiting tentacles lunged in, biting and sucking roughly at her clitoris all over again, drowning her in caresses fiercer than any before.

In that interval Marie set a hand against the crotch of her own panties and tossed out a repulsive little jest, her voice brimming with rapture.

"Seeing you like this, Iris... I almost think a pure little thing like you suits the name of 'Saint' even better than I ever did~♡"

With her consciousness dissolving into pleasure, Iris—as though she simply could not comprehend what was happening—forced her eyes upward through tears and drool and asked, almost accusingly.

"La... Lady Marie... what on earth... what are you saying right now...?"

Marie answered with a snickering sneer.

"For the sake of our stupid little Iris, I, in my mercy, shall explain it all nice and slowly. You see—I intended to betray you from the very beginning."

The words fell like a thunderbolt from a clear sky; Iris's eyes flew wide and she shook uncontrollably, as though struck a devastating blow.

"Wh... why...?"

"Why, you ask? Why, it's your own fault, of course—for tempting me every moment of every day, isn't it?"

Marie pressed on with an audacity as brazen as it was ruthless, then reached out and seized one of Iris's enormous breasts without ceremony.

"Those gigantic tits of yours jiggling in front of me twenty-four hours a day, that plump, juicy little bottom wiggling as you fluttered about me... every last one of those innocent little gestures teased me, tempted me. How was I ever meant to endure it? So the one at fault, from beginning to end, is you, Iris."

Having said her piece, Marie pushed her own panties down off her hips and cast them away entirely.

Plop.

And what was revealed between her legs was a futanari's cock, turgid and monstrously engorged—so immense that her very status as a saint candidate seemed impossible, dwarfing Iris's own forearm two, three times over.

"Kyaaaaah——?!"

At the sight of that monstrous cock bared without an ounce of shame, Iris screamed in horror.

"Wh... why...?! Lady Marie—one of the saint candidates—how could you have... that thing...?! A futanari... a futanari could never become the Saint...!"

Drenched in pleasure and gasping as she was, Iris still struggled to challenge the unbelievable reality. Marie smiled as though savoring every ounce of her reaction, and replied.

"You're quite right. The priesthood belongs to women and women alone—futanari like us could never, ever hold it. But you see..."

Marie gave her enormous cock a lazy waggle, then hooked a finger beneath Iris's chin and lifted it.

"From the moment I first met you, I hid what I am for one reason and one reason alone: the single, unwavering urge to pin you—and you alone—beneath me and ravish you. I deceived my superiors about every last detail of who I am, and clawed my way all the way up to this seat of saint candidate."

Tenderly she stroked down Iris's cheek, and laid the last of it against her ear like a whisper.

"This is our very own special, first-class secret, you understand... So our dear Iris is going to keep her lips sealed about it for all eternity, isn't she? Won't you...?"