Shattered Self (1)
Aria sat hunched on the edge of the solitary cell’s bed, her hollow eyes staring blankly into space. The once-glossy black hair and sharp obsidian eyes had both lost their luster. She regretted not escaping when she still had the chance. Even if it meant having her arms and legs severed, she should have run. Even if it meant dying, she should have tried.
Over the past few weeks, her body had learned all too painfully that there were things worse than death.
Even wrapped in the thick clerical robes, she shivered uncontrollably. Being violated day and night without rest was torment beyond imagination. The pleasure forced upon her against her will left deep scars of shame and self-loathing on Aria’s soul.
She hated it. This cruel reality. Being trapped in a woman’s body with no way to resist. Even a bird locked in a cage would be treated better than this. At least birds weren’t subjected to sexual torture.
During the baptism ceremony, Aria had lost her virginity without any meaningful resistance. No, she had resisted. She had bitten down on Cardinal Mavlof’s cock and tried to tear it off. But it hadn’t been enough. It had only fueled the cardinal’s sadism.
In retaliation, he had ordered the priests to gang-rape the Saintess. It was an insane command, yet they obeyed without question and began violating her. As a result, Aria lost consciousness again and again, only to be dragged back into the nightmare. Her frail Saintess body simply couldn’t endure being passed among so many men.
If hell existed, this had to be it.
Once their private feast began, it didn’t end until the night was nearly gone. Stop. Please stop. Don’t do this. No matter how desperately she screamed, they only laughed with glee and thrust harder. Sometimes they slapped her cheeks or punched her stomach. Unlike when she had been a man, even small impacts hit her body like hammer blows.
It hurt so much. It was so unbearable that she eventually stopped screaming. A wave of despair washed over her at the sheer misery of her situation.
Did anyone actually enjoy experiences like this? She had been living an ordinary life in the real world—why did she have to suffer this agony? She cursed the author. She cursed the mysterious entity that had forced her into this body. At the same time, she cursed herself for having bookmarked such a disgusting novel.
Aria began to sob at the tragic reality of her existence. The moment she started crying, the men seemed to grow even more aroused and tormented her with renewed cruelty. Only after her entire body was drenched in semen and her lower half had gone completely numb did the gang-rape finally end.
…Could it even be called an end?
Perhaps that had only been the prelude.
Priest Ronin and the other members of the cult continued to violate her almost daily. At first she had resisted fiercely, but over time her will gradually crumbled. By now, her mind stood on the verge of total collapse.
She knew her own condition all too well. She couldn’t endure this any longer. Logically, she should escape before permanent psychological damage set in… but Aria could not run.
Her fingers brushed against her neck. A soft black fabric encircled it—the black choker Cardinal Mavlof had given her after the baptism. It was designed to release an electric shock if she moved more than a certain distance from the cathedral. The meticulousness with which they had prevented any escape was almost admirable.
With brains like that, why didn’t you bastards just study theology instead of becoming depraved dogs?
She had actually tried to flee several times, only to lose consciousness each time. And every failure had been punished with further sexual torture.
Unbidden, memories of the previous night surfaced. The men frantically devouring her most private places. Herself, making only broken, whimpering sounds like a puppet with its strings cut. It hadn’t been just last night. It was like that every single day.
Every. Single. Day. She was fucked by cock after cock. No wonder they mockingly called her the Seed-Receiving Saintess.
Ha. What a piece of garbage this story was. So-called priests who worshipped a god, yet behaved like this toward their own Saintess. Their voracious lust was far beyond what one woman could possibly handle. At this rate, even a horny monkey would have more self-control.
Complaining changed nothing, and that fact alone was agonizing.
“It was really hard, wasn’t it?”
Just thinking about last night’s acts made her lower abdomen throb. Like a teenage boy getting hard at dirty thoughts, her womb pulsed instinctively. It was a clear, abnormal sign. Lately her body had become far too sensitive. After being touched so relentlessly by the priests, it was only natural that her senses had grown hypersensitive.
If things continued like this, what would become of her body? Would she end up so enslaved to pleasure that she couldn’t even live a normal life?
Nausea rose in her throat. If only she hadn’t been born with such a beautiful face, she might have been spared this horror. Someone listening might have called it a spoiled complaint, but for her, beauty was nothing but pain and a curse. Her lovely appearance only fueled the clergy’s lust and brought her no other advantages whatsoever.
She had once steeled herself and burned her own face with fire. After all, who would want to embrace a woman whose features had been crushed? There were still some degenerates who would, which made the whole thing a black comedy.
They healed it right away with Holy Power or whatever it’s called.
Never had she hated the convenient power of this fantasy world more than in that moment. After burning her face once, she never tried it again—because a group of enraged priests had conspired to force her into continuous orgasms for an entire day. Even now, remembering that time made her hands and feet tremble.
I don’t want this anymore! I don’t want to cum again—hiiik!
Ughiiiiiik, ahk, haa, ugh.
Ahn, ahn, ahn.
No matter how much she cried and begged, they never showed mercy. It had been so excruciating that it was a miracle her brain hadn’t broken. Did she know what it felt like to stop being herself? At least Aria had a rough idea of what that sensation was like.
How had the original protagonist endured something like this?
Ah, right. She couldn’t endure it and fell into female corruption.
Suddenly, a hollow laugh escaped Aria’s lips. It was an empty, broken sound.
“If you are the Saintess who follows the Goddess of Sexual Love, you must embrace all people with benevolence.”
Here we go with this bullshit again.
Aria bit her lip against the pain in her groin and the strange heat blooming inside her, yet still tried to argue back against the priest’s drivel.
“That’s complete bullsh—haah, ugh.”
Of course, she usually couldn’t hold out until the end and ended up moaning instead.
The pot-bellied priest gave her a grotesque smile and licked the sensitive peak of her soft, voluptuous breast. The tingling current that shot through her chest made Aria twist violently.
“What the Saintess lacks is precisely that benevolence toward others. The vast mercy to embrace and cherish them. Didn’t you learn that thoroughly under Priest Ronin?”
Priest Ronin had taught her benevolence? All he had taught her was that endless repetition of pleasure eventually became torture.
“When the hell—did he—teach—ahn—something like—ahn—benevolence…!”
Even as she tried to refute him, her body was helplessly swept away by waves of ecstasy, responding with perfect honesty.
“Huuugh. As expected, the Saintess’s pussy is as tight as her personality! To still clench this much after taking so many men!”
“Hngh. Sh-shut up!”
It was ridiculous that she couldn’t even form a proper retort to such vulgar words. In truth, Aria’s body was already climbing toward another climax.
“Mmm, ah, haaang.”
While she writhed in deep pleasure, desperately trying to suppress her moans, her body trembled again. Several minutes passed like that. Then she felt the lukewarm fluid splattering inside her. He had ejaculated.
“The Saintess’s cunt is always first-class no matter how many times I use it.”
Shut the fuck up. Is that your only damn line?
The humiliation nearly drove her insane.
The pot-bellied priest laboriously pulled his body back. As the cock that had been piercing her withdrew, thick, cloudy semen like spoiled milk dribbled down her perineum in sticky strands.
“Ahk.”
The sound that escaped her was almost a moan. At the unintended noise, Aria covered her face with both hands and turned away. The priest felt a strange sense of conquest at the sight.
Disheveled hair. A body flushed crimson. Empty, hollow eyes.
Even after being so thoroughly defiled, the Saintess was still breathtakingly beautiful. If the embodiment of beauty existed, wouldn’t it look exactly like this?
The Saintess named Aria was a blessing bestowed upon the cult by the Goddess of Sexual Love.
Watching the Saintess pant as she tried to steady her breathing, the pot-bellied priest felt his lust surge once more. He repositioned her body into the missionary position. The moment she realized the act she had thought was over was about to continue, Aria’s face turned deathly pale and she shook her head frantically.
“S-stop… If you keep going… I’ll break…”
Her body was utterly exhausted. Her groin felt raw and burning from how many times it had been stabbed, and she was desperately thirsty from losing so much fluid. But this lust-crazed priest paid her no heed.
It was simply another day of the rape that had become routine.
After the act finally ended and the pot-bellied priest left the room, Aria lay dazed on the bed, staring at the ceiling. A rare moment of rest. One of the few precious hours when she didn’t have to mingle her flesh with those detestable men.
Click.
It wasn’t long before an unwelcome guest entered.
A man with neatly parted brown hair. It was Priest Ronin. He carried a tray laden with various foods.
“Saintess, I’ve brought your meal.”
“…I don’t want to eat.”
She had just been forced to swallow semen; her stomach already felt bloated. There was no way she could have an appetite.
“I went through the trouble of bringing it. Please eat at least a little.”
His hypocritical kindness made her sick. After gaslighting her with all that talk of correction and education, now he was pretending to be gentle?
She slapped the tray out of his hands and shouted.
“Get out!”
Crash.
The bowls clattered loudly as they overturned onto the floor.
“…Oh dear, what a waste.”
His eyes showed no trace of regret. Instead, Ronin’s gaze was filled with ecstasy. As if watching Aria break was the most delightful entertainment imaginable.
Aria hated those eyes. She hated them so much it made her skin crawl—the way they seemed to crave her destruction.
“I see you have no intention of eating. In that case…”
He began unbuckling his belt. It was obvious what he intended to do. What else could it be but sex?
Aria panicked.
“L-let me rest! I just finished…”
“Weren’t you the one who refused the meal, Saintess?”
“I’ll eat! I’ll eat, so please—”
Ronin pointed at the porridge and meat spilled across the floor with his index finger.
“Then please, go ahead and eat.”
“…What?”
“Do you dislike it?”
It was an act that showed zero regard for human dignity. She wanted to scream at him—why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do wrong?
“…I’ll eat.”
Yet Aria offered no further resistance and obediently complied. It hurt less that way. It was less painful that way.
She crawled across the floor and began picking up the scattered food with her hands and eating it. As Ronin watched her, his hand moved toward her groin. The moment his fingers stroked the delicate skin of her mound, Aria flinched and looked up at him with trembling eyes.
“Y-you clearly said you wouldn’t…”
“I changed my mind.”
Because of Ronin’s capricious whim, Aria was forced to endure yet another agonizing stretch of time.