Broken Ego (2)
Several more weeks had slipped by. I was walking down the corridors of the cathedral. The Sex Cult I belonged to was a religious order of considerable power. Being designated as a state religion meant its scale was truly immense. As the Saintess of such a colossal organization, what did my daily life look like?
Surprisingly, my routine itself was rather leisurely. Aside from reading thick holy scriptures or offering prayers to the Goddess of Eros, there was little else I was required to do. Then again, it would have been strange if it weren’t leisurely. After all, I had to intertwine my body with the priests without distinction between day and night.
Just recalling it made my stomach churn with nausea. All of it was thanks to those clergymen who treated other people’s throats like cum landfills. How gracious of them. Suddenly, the memory of semen catching in my throat and making me cough resurfaced. It had been incredibly unpleasant. I could finally empathize with why women in porn suffered when they swallowed incorrectly. It was an empathy I never wanted to gain, but there it was.
Remembering that awful moment brought another thought to mind. ‘By the way, couldn’t we use the Saintess’s back hole as well?’ At first I thought it was a crude joke. But their expressions showed they were completely serious. I thought they were insane. The anus wasn’t created for intercourse—it was made for excretion. I couldn’t fathom why they were so fixated on such a filthy place.
Even when I told them it wasn’t meant for sex, they paid no attention. Terrifying remarks flew back and forth freely—how pretty the color was, how it looked perfectly usable. These bastards would probably start suggesting enemas next. The mere thought sent a chill down my spine.
“Haa...”
If only I had a cigarette, I would have lit one right then. Sadly, it seemed the Saintess was not permitted such indulgences. Well, even if it was only in name, I was the cult’s Saintess. If someone in my position was seen puffing away, it would undoubtedly tarnish the organization’s public image.
Wait a second. It was fine for the Saintess to serve as a comfort woman for the clergy, but smoking was where they drew the line? The absurdity of it made me want to laugh.
I formed a V with my left index and middle fingers, repeatedly opening and closing them like scissors. God, I craved a cigarette. I was forced to act as a cumdump every single day—surely one smoke wouldn’t hurt? If I could take a deep drag all the way into my lungs, this crushing stress might ease just a little.
…Would anyone give me one? A cigarette?
Imagining a cigarette that wasn’t even there, I pressed my index and middle fingers to my lips and pretended to inhale deeply. Inhale. Exhale. It was only an act, yet my head felt strangely clearer. Was this the placebo effect?
On the surface it looked incredibly foolish, but I felt my mind and body calming in a peculiar way. As I continued the smoking mime, I sensed a presence behind me.
I felt my blood run cold. The action I had just performed could easily be used against me if seen by the other clergy. The Saintess pretending to smoke? They could scold me for being out of my mind, and I would have no defense.
‘…Please, anyone but the priests behind me.’
Every time they had caught me over the past few weeks, I had been subjected to agonizing sexual torture. They wouldn’t let this slide either. My body instinctively shrank in on itself.
Breaking into a cold sweat, I turned around. Fortunately, it wasn’t a member of the cult’s clergy. Standing there was a boy with golden hair and golden eyes.
He had delicate features, closer in appearance to an elf than a human. Could it be that the gods had sent me a cigarette fairy? I shook my head vigorously. After experiencing one shocking event after another recently, my thoughts were no longer rational.
I lowered my gaze to the child’s hands. He was holding a bible of moderate size, so he must have been a follower of the benevolent goddess. It felt awkward to simply stare, so I offered a gentle smile. The boy beamed back with an equally bright one.
A smile untainted by the corruption of the world. That pure, innocent expression made all the strength drain from my body. There was a fundamental difference in radiance between artificial smiles and genuine ones.
“Hello, little believer.”
“Ah, hello! You’re Saintess Aria, right?”
I nodded.
“S-Saintess! Could you give me an autograph?”
An autograph out of nowhere? What nonsense. Irritation flared up, but I quickly corrected myself. This child didn’t know the situation I was trapped in. If he did, he wouldn’t be looking at me with such reverent eyes.
Though they called me a saintess, I was nothing more than a breeding tool for the priests. I set aside my self-deprecating thoughts for a moment and studied the boy. If this were the protagonist who had transmigrated here, what would they have said? Would they have snapped at him to stop with the saintess nonsense and get lost? I couldn’t remember clearly, but I doubted they would have spoken kindly.
To the boy whose eyes sparkled with longing and admiration, I offered a bittersweet smile. There was no point in taking out my frustration on a child.
“Where would you like me to sign it, little believer?”
“In the book, please!”
The boy immediately thrust the bible toward me. He wanted me to sign that? I stared blankly at the scripture in his hands before slowly shaking my head. Signing my name in the bible could be interpreted as blasphemy against the Goddess of Eros. I could already picture those priest bastards using it as an excuse to torment me.
“That book won’t do. It’s the Gospel of Eros, isn’t it?”
At my firm refusal, the boy’s face fell for a moment.
“Then please sign here, Saintess!”
Hesitantly, the child pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill pen already dipped in ink. How thoroughly prepared. Signing on ordinary paper like that was no trouble at all.
I wrote the name “Aria” in the otherworldly script stored in my mind. Perhaps because the original Saintess had elegant handwriting, the signature came out rather stylish. Would this make the boy happy?
“Here you are, little believer.”
“Wow! Thank you so much, Saintess!”
The boy bounced with joy as if the scrap of paper were the greatest treasure in the world, then ran off. A warm feeling bloomed quietly inside me. I hoped he would never grow up to become like the priests of the Sex Cult. I hoped his purity would remain untouched. There I was, praying to a goddess I didn’t even believe in.
“Saintess.”
Priest Ronin had approached at some point. He smiled as he placed a hand on my shoulder. I gently brushed it away and narrowed my eyes.
“I can walk by myself.”
The beginning of another disgusting ordeal.
I grasped the hem of the holy robe that reached my knees and lifted it all the way to my waist. Naturally, my lower abdomen and groin were completely exposed. My smooth, hairless pussy was seared clearly into the eyes of the high-ranking clergy. I wasn’t wearing panties. They would only get soaked in cum and ruined anyway—what was the point?
I swayed the bunched fabric around my hips and asked,
“Does this satisfy you, priests?”
No one answered. They simply stared at my exposed lower body as if spellbound.
Gulp.
The sound of someone swallowing dryly echoed. Yet the one performing this humiliating act—me—felt strangely calm. What did it matter if I spread my pussy when ordered? The so-called clergymen lost all reason and lunged at my naked body. A sneer threatened to escape my lips.
How was this a saintess? Even the cheapest whore would behave with more dignity. I didn’t resist their hands. I knew resistance was pointless. I was powerless.
They pinned my arms and forced my legs apart. Soon, a thick, veined cock forced its way into my narrow passage.
“Ahk… ngh.”
The feeling of my insides being forcibly stretched. I should have grown used to it after experiencing it so many times, yet the pain remained. Come to think of it, despite taking so many men, my pussy never loosened or changed color. For some reason, the holy power within me seemed to function as a form of self-healing. That might be why it hurt every single time. No matter how much it stretched or tore, it always regenerated to its original state.
The inside was rotting away, yet the outside remained pristine. A perfect example of something that looked good but was rotten at the core. A miserable laugh escaped me.
Once one man finished ejaculating, the next stepped forward. This one’s cock was almost too large for me to handle. It didn’t match Cardinal Mavlof’s monstrous size, but it was still thick and long enough to make me want to cry out in pain. Without giving me any time to adjust, he drove straight into me.
Pain and pleasure that threatened to paralyze my nerves violently scrambled my brain.
“Hngh… ahk… aahng!”
There was no love or affection in the way they used me like a living onahole. They simply thrust their hips according to raw, primal lust. That huge cock pistoning quickly and violently inside me. I had tried to remain composed, but eventually I begged in a desperate voice.
“It-it’s too big! P-please… just a little slower…!”
“Hup! It’s your fault for squeezing my cock so tightly, Saintess!”
It was utter nonsense, but I let it pass. It wasn’t as if this was the first or second time they had spouted such ridiculous garbage.
“Haht! Ahng!”
Contrary to my plea, he ravaged my body even more fiercely. Mucous membranes rubbed together. Lewd, wet sounds filled the air as my pussy began to secrete fluids.
“Ahng… hup… hiiik!”
Unlike before, when I would bite my lip to hold back my moans, I now let them spill out openly. It reduced the resentment I received from them. Perhaps the sight of me mating excited them greatly, because some of the priests pulled out their cocks and began rubbing them against my hands and mouth.
The scene looked exactly like people scrambling to use a public resource. No—it was exactly that. I was public property. A tool for relieving their sexual frustration. That was the extent of my existence as the person called Aria.
I had given up on escape. The choker was one problem, but the constant surveillance was another. There was no opening to run. The only choice left was to accept and submit to the fate forced upon me—just as the original protagonist had done.
I recalled everything I had endured so far. Gang-raped by multiple men. Forced to orgasm until my eyes rolled back. Made to walk around naked wearing a dog collar. Every single time, they claimed it was the will of the Goddess of Eros. A blessing from the Goddess of Eros. Guidance granted by the Goddess of Eros.
Like a chant, I heard those sickening words every time I reached climax. Like dampness slowly seeping in after rain, those words had gradually corroded my mind.
Goddess of Eros. Goddess of Eros. Goddess of Eros.
Aaaaah.
Yes. I’ll act however you want. So please stop tormenting me. I’ll obey everything you desire. So please stop tormenting me. The Goddess of Eros? I’ll believe in her from now on. So please stop tormenting me.
After countless orgasms, my mind was painted pure white. I wailed out my moans.
That day, I resolved to become the “Saintess” Aria they so desperately wanted. In a way, it was also the day I castrated my own male identity.