Training Log [Ronin & Aria & Nermaraud] (4)
It had already been several minutes since I started sucking Priest Nermaraud’s cock to stimulate him. As if he could no longer endure it, he let out a pathetic groan and ejaculated straight into my throat. Splurt. Thick, gluey semen burst from his shaft like a water pistol, unfortunately striking my uvula dead-on.
The misfortune did not end there. Some of the load must have slipped into my windpipe, because I began to choke. He hurriedly withdrew from my mouth, and I covered my lips with both hands as violent coughs wracked me. “Cough, cough.”
My throat burned fiercely, yet I swallowed every complaint. Nothing was more foolish than grumbling in front of Ronin. He would seize even the smallest excuse and delight in punishing me. So I had one more task to complete first.
“Blegh.” I cupped my hands and spat the remaining semen from my mouth. I had been trained to do exactly this every time I serviced a cock orally. One might wonder if it was truly necessary. But it was—because ignoring the rule would only give him another excuse to torment me.
After all of it, it seemed my fundamental nature as a human was to obey and submit before merciless violence. Even after I had done everything correctly, Priest Ronin still stared at me with clear displeasure. What is it this time?
That’s right. I had forgotten the greeting.
“…I have properly received Priest Nermaraud’s baby seed. Thank you.”
Priest Nermaraud seemed speechless; no reply left his lips. That was a relief. If he had mocked me, it would have been unbearable.
“A little lacking, but it barely passes.”
Ronin evaluated my performance in that soft, genteel tone of his. The words were insulting, yet I did not flare up. Or more accurately, I could not. The consequences of resisting him were burned too clearly into my mind. No matter how stupid I might be, repetition had taught me what happened when I rebelled.
“…I did my best.”
“Yet who told you to spit it out?”
“Y-you’re the one who told me to do it like that… sir.”
Ronin swept his hair back with a sigh.
“Isn’t Priest Nermaraud’s precious seed wasted?”
Wasted. In other words, I was meant to swallow it. I stared at the cloudy fluid coating my palms. So that was it. I had to drink it.
My face twisted. Semen is slippery, oddly scented, and overwhelmingly fishy. It felt like being force-fed collected animal fat. The texture alone made the taste utterly vile. At this point I might as well be a semen sommelier.
When I hesitated, stalling for time, Ronin’s eyes grew noticeably colder.
“Saintess.”
I knew what he wanted. He wanted my submission, my obedience. Refusal always brought pain beyond imagination. I was tired of resisting. I squeezed my eyes shut, lifted my cupped hands to my mouth, and drank. The sticky, clotted, revolting fluid slid down my tongue and throat. Even as it passed, the fishy, horrible texture made me want to retch.
When I finally opened my eyes after swallowing every drop, I found several gazes fixed on me with keen interest.
“Hoh, Ronin. She’s become rather well-trained, hasn’t she?”
At the nameless bishop’s remark, Ronin offered a humble smile.
“It seems my efforts have finally borne fruit.”
Efforts? Could one call toying with a person “effort”? How much further did they intend to drag me into misery?
“…Are you all right, Saintess?”
At least Priest Nermaraud seemed concerned for my well-being. Yet from this point onward I would have to couple with him—because Ronin desired it.
I slipped on the patched, ragged mask I always wore. It was riddled with holes, but without it I feared I might truly begin to cry.
“Yes. I’m fine. Now, Priest Nermaraud, please taste Aria’s pussy.”
I spoke exactly as Ronin had ordered, because he had strictly instructed me to beg using those precise words. Priest Nermaraud’s body trembled; he must have guessed what sort of events had led to this.
“The Saintess beseeches you so earnestly. How can you remain idle? How cruel, Priest Nermaraud.”
Vicious. Malicious. I felt like a puppet dancing in a play Ronin had written. Under the repeated urging, Priest Nermaraud’s cock finally aimed at my crotch.
“…Saintess, are you truly all right with this?”
Do I look all right? Are your eyes just knots in wood? Instead of answering, I smiled. …Or at least I believe I smiled. It must have looked like a smile.
With slender fingers I spread the straight slit between my legs. My cherry-blossom-colored folds opened wide. Semen and love juices that had not yet been fully expelled dripped steadily from my pussy. I wondered how he saw me. A pitiful, wretched saintess? Or a lewd breeding bitch?
“…Please fuck me.”
Tap. Tap. His massively swollen rod began rubbing along my outer lips. He gradually narrowed the motion, teasing my clitoris and the entrance of my vagina until the glans and opening aligned perfectly. One more push and he would be inside.
“Then I will enter you, Saintess.”
He didn’t need to announce every step, but the pause let me steady my breathing.
“…Yes.”
The face-to-face position was embarrassing for only a moment. He seemed to abandon all pretense of decorum as he spread my folds and drove his cock forward. My entrance stretched around the thick glans until he was buried to the root. Squish. Crunch.
“Haahk!”
Perhaps it was because my body overflowed with holy power. Thanks to my constitution that instantly restored any wound or change, my pussy never loosened or lost its grip. In other words, every time I had sex I endured the same pain as a virgin.
The sensation of an iron bar stabbing my insides returned. The fact that his cock was larger than the other bishops’ only doubled the agony. Each slight movement of his hips drew ecstatic moans from my throat.
“Hngh!”
“Huuuk… hngh!”
“Aah, ahng!”
Squelch. Plap. Plap. He gradually increased his pace. Each full thrust felt as though my entire channel was being scraped raw.
“Heuuuk.”
“I’ll do it properly now.”
So everything until now had been mere foreplay? Before I could even protest, fierce, powerful pistoning slammed into me.
“Huk.”
I swallowed a gasp. The pressure was overwhelming. My flesh was crushed beneath his savage movements.
“Hngh, it hurts, T-Teacher. Haahk, please be gentler… I beg you.”
I pleaded. It was pathetic, but if this continued I wouldn’t be able to endure. I felt as though I would cease to be myself, as though I would become nothing but a fool chasing pleasure. I did not want to fall into that “state” I had experienced so many times before. I did not want to become a broken creature laughing while accepting only ecstasy.
There is nothing more terrifying than growing numb to stimulation and no longer knowing how far you have fallen. I did not want that. That was why I begged. Yet my plea seemed to have the opposite effect. His already brutal cock swelled even larger. It forced its way through my narrow passage.
“…Saintess, forgive me.”
Priest Nermaraud apologized. Forgive him for what? Suddenly his hands tore open my holy garments, exposing my breasts. Peach-toned flesh spilled free—pale, soft skin and pink nipples. Even I knew they were beautifully shaped.
Seeing them, he seemed seized by the urge to suck. His lips closed around my left breast. Suck. Suck. He used tongue and teeth with practiced skill. The caress was gentle yet precise.
Even though I tried to endure, the pain and pleasure rising from below had already dulled my mind. With my breasts now being toyed with, sanity became impossible. Like cotton candy melting in water, my reason dissolved into a lake of ecstasy. My mind crumbled like a sandcastle.
All that remained inside the person called Aria was thick, sexual pleasure.
“Haah… haah…”
It feels good. It’s enjoyable. Something inside my head kept urging me to continue. Stop making that tearful face and just enjoy it. This isn’t so bad, is it? Should I? Should I simply give in? If I was going to be used anyway—whether I hated it or resisted—wouldn’t it be better to let everything go?
“Hiiiggguk!”
My sensitivity had heightened so much that I could feel every stroke of his tongue across my nipple. The already erect buds tightened even further. He buried his face deeper into my breasts, hands locking around my waist to hold me steady. The posture was meant for harder, faster, more violent thrusts.
No. I would break. I would turn into a filthy beast that chased only pleasure. I was terrified. So terrified that I wrapped both legs around his waist, trying to stop his hips from moving. But it was a mistake. The position only let me feel his cock more deeply, more intimately.
“Haahk!”
Lightning flashed through my skull. My toes curled. My body shook violently. Even though I had endured this many times, I could never grow used to it. Perhaps because it was the primal pleasure of a living creature.
“Haaung… huung… hngh.”
Shameful moans spilled from my lips. Sexual ecstasy hammered my dazed mind. What was I supposed to be doing again?
“Heuk, ugh. N-no, don’t move!”
Despite my efforts, he moved his hips anyway. Gush. Gush. The feeling of my insides being stretched was more unpleasant, painful, and agonizing than I could have imagined. There should have been nothing good about it—yet it felt strangely, unbearably good. Had I always possessed such masochistic tendencies?
Every small movement of Priest Nermaraud’s waist drew an immediate reaction from my body.
“Hngh, ahng, i-it’s too rough… ah, it hurts…”
He was young and powerful. His superior stamina compared to the bishops made it even harder to bear. Each heavy thrust slammed our pubic bones together, sending sharp pain through me. There was no consideration, only coercive, domineering sex. His cock churned my insides until my pussy became a ruined, sloppy mess.
Heat rose from my lower belly. It invaded my lungs, forcing hot breaths from my lips.
“Haht… hngh.”
Just because I had endured it many times did not mean I had grown accustomed. It was always tormenting. It always made my mind go strange. Unable to hold back any longer, Priest Nermaraud called my name.
“…Saintess Aria! I’m going to cum!”
What do you want me to do? Just cum however you like. I could not say that. Not with Ronin watching. With a heart full of despair I recited the lines I had been forced to memorize.
“Please cum. Irresponsibly, as much as you want. Aria’s pussy likes it. It will like it.”
He clutched my body tightly. Being held in a man’s arms was disgusting, nauseating. Terrifying. I wanted to escape. Yet I could not leave his embrace. Was it because I was biologically female now? Ah, I hated it. I hated being used by men.
Priest Nermaraud gave one final, powerful thrust. He sped up. The fierce pounding brought a sensation like something bursting deep inside me. It felt as if my entire body was evaporating. Drool spilled from my lips as I made incoherent sounds.
“Haaung, ahng, waaah, a big one, a big one’s coming! Heuk, hik, hik, hiiik!”
The climax was so intense it felt as though I would stop breathing altogether.