Quadruple-Amputee Saintess Yuria

Quadruple-amputee Saintess Yuria. Oracle blessed by the gods, agent of the divine. Guardian of holiness. The Saintess chosen by the Goddess gains immense mana and divine blessings. In the past, it was said she could protect an entire city-state with her holy powers alone. But now, most gods have vanished from the world. The monasteries cling to the faint remnants of the Goddess's power, independently interpreting her final oracle. Thus, Yuria's divine authority is weak, yet still potent enough. It reinforces her sturdy body, supplies mana, and preserves her virginity.

Yuria blinked slowly. Her consciousness was intact, so she wasn't dead yet. She could breathe properly. Her broken nose seemed to have healed back to normal. Her head throbbed like it might split open, and as she reached to press her aching forehead, she realized her hands were gone.

"Ha...?"

They weren't bound. They simply didn't exist. Her arms were gone from the shoulders down. Yuria's eyes widened in disbelief at the impossible sight. Even unconscious, the Goddess's holy protection lingered. No one could touch her protected body carelessly. Strong magic or the orcs' physical assaults might pierce it, but she'd have woken up if so. This wasn't the kind of pain you could endure while passed out with your limbs severed.

"...The stump..."

The cut was smooth. Perfectly clean, without bone or flesh exposed as it should be. Just like when they'd magically carved out her clitoris with magic—her arms and legs had been excised the same way. A chill of crisis far beyond any line she'd crossed before made Yuria swallow hard.

Did they teleport my limbs to another dimension? —No sensation at all... Damn. Can't use Blessing of Restoration if they won't regenerate.

At the sound of thudding footsteps, Yuria flicked only her eyes upward. Sprawled helplessly on the ground, she stared at the approaching orcs. Now that the battle was over, their repulsive faces made her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grimace anew. In the heat of combat, with every nerve exploding, she hadn't noticed, but now it hit her. The instinctive stench of their foul sweat and the thick, pigsty reek assaulted her nose.

"...Filthy orc scum... You've allied with demons, haven't you?"

Orcs don't reason with humans. They share goblins' tendencies but are more primal. They have violence, but not the goblins' overt torture and torment. The results look similar, but at their core, it's pure breeding and lust relief.

"Krrk!"

An orc grabbed Yuria's long hair and yanked. She was dragged helplessly. Her hips bumped against the rough stone floor. Her body was tough, but her hair was more delicate. Snap. Snap. Strands of her pink hair broke with audible cracks.

I put so much effort into maintaining my hair...!

How dare these dirty, ugly brutes without a shred of beauty touch it. Rage surged first. If she had her limbs, she'd rip that orc apart barehanded, no weapon needed.

"Krrrrr!!"

She struggled desperately despite her severed limbs, but it was futile. The orc slammed her to the ground, and she tumbled across it. Looking up at the sky, she saw the tentacle—the culprit behind her state—gazing down.

"...!"

Anger mixed with a faint flicker of fear. That tentacle had subdued her with its orgasm beam. And it had teleported her limbs away. The massive octopus-like appendage was fused to the collapsed giant earthworm beetle's bones and flesh walls. Unable to grow on its own, it sought better hosts to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠expand. Yuria gritted her teeth.

"By the holy authority of the Goddess! With a thousand sacred wards as my servants, smite this loathsome creature— Grrk?! Gack!"

As she chanted to slay the monster, an orc planted its knee on her throat and crushed down.

"Guh! Grr... Hek! Kk! Kk!"

Just like before. Blood rushed to her head. Her pale skin, typical of Holy Kingdom lineage, flushed beet-red. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't. Breathe.

"Krah! Ha! Haa! How dare you! Filthy orc— Gyak?!"

The orc lifted its knee from her throat, then hoisted her skyward in one motion. For a split second, she floated—then it smashed her down onto the ground. Splat! The floor was part tentacle flesh-wall, part sand—not solid rock, but the humiliation burned deepest. Head buried in the dirt, Yuria clenched her teeth.

"Ugh... Nng! Don't... touch there..."

Her clothes were in tatters, exposing her massive breasts and ass. The orc ripped away the last scraps covering her rear and muttered slowly.

"Fe... male!"

This orc knew of the magic guarding her hymen. So it chose her pussy? No—

"Th-there?! No, stop! No, guuuuuhhh!!!!"

Crunch!!

No foreplay, no warning—the cock plunged in. The orc's enormous shaft tore through her sphincter. Amid the horrific agony of her asshole being destroyed, Yuria screamed.

Her body ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was tough. So tough she'd never felt pain like this. Especially not her asshole ripping apart.

"Guuuuhhh!! H-ha, you horny dog... ♪ Didn't even notice when you got hard, aaaahhh!!!"

It wasn't fully in yet. The orc's dick was sturdier, thicker, longer than any anal toy she'd ever used. As thick as her forearm, maybe. No pleasure at all. Just the tearing pain of her hole ripping, the slick feel of blood. Yuria bit down hard to endure.

Shedding tears for lowly orc scum? Unacceptable.

The orc shoved her face into the dirt, pinned it, and pistoned relentlessly. Slap! Slap! Slap! Her ass and the orc's body made vulgar claps. In that moment, Yuria cursed her proud, plump ass.

This much. She could—

"Nng! Nng!! Nn, ah! This... much... Krhek!?"

Pinning her head while thrusting, the orc now wrapped an arm from behind around her throat. Yuria stuck out her tongue, gagging. Undeterred, the orc pounded savagely. Slap! Slap! Something leaked from her ass. Dark brown liquid and clumps from her ruptured sphincter—Yuria had no time to think what it was.

"Grr... Hek!! Krhek! Krhek!"

Complete ragdoll. No limbs meant no flailing. No resistance possible. The orc stood, using its cock as a brace to hoist her body upright. Like a rigid pole impaling her ass, it locked her in place. One arm choked her neck, the cock fixed her body, and the free hand squeezed her massive breast. The fatty flesh mangled under its grip. Additional pain kept her from passing out. The forced anal cock churned her guts; from her ass leaked not just cum and precum, but sticky brown filth.

"Ghek! Grr...! Ek!"

She strained her neck, veins bulging to loosen the choke, but failed. Looking down yielded only the sight of her voluptuous tits being mauled. With her anus destroyed, twisted bowels sending septic agony like gut-wrench, Yuria desperately wished to black out.

"...!!!"

Gurgle. Glorp! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠The orc's cock throbbed, unleashing a flood of semen. Semen itself wouldn't impregnate, wasn't destructive. But male seed meant solely for breeding, poured into an asshole that should admit no foreign matter—this signified total defeat for the female. Flesh or mind, didn't matter.

"Haa! Ha! Haek! H-huu!"

At the climax, the choking arm tightened—Yuria nearly fainted—but as it finished, the orc's arm went slack. The cock pulled from her ass. Amid the twisted gut pain, Yuria gasped. Tough body or not, her organs weren't invincible. From her gaping hole poured unfiltered fluids, juices, cum.

No permanent scars for a Saintess. The faint Goddess's grace allowed recovery. In hours, maybe. As the orc fully relaxed, Yuria dropped face-first. Her huge breasts cushioned the fall, sparing major impact.

Nothing improved. Her anus violated, sphincter torn, shitting filth and cum in shame. Yuria resolved to endure. Nothing else to do. But not baseless hope. If her subordinates returned—even wiped out, reinforcements would come. They couldn't abandon the Saintess. Nor ignore demons and remnants growing near the western metropolis.

But her vanished limbs? Being limbless-fucked by tentacles would spread through the monasteries. And that she was the culprit? Yuria dimly felt her hopes had fled far, no rotten rope left to grasp.

"Ugly abomination... How dare you look down on me?"

She shoved away the uneasy thoughts. Sneered at the tentacle. Sneered with all her might. Her pride wouldn't bend to that loathsome lowlife. Despair didn't suit her.

It'll work out somehow—blithely ignoring reality with optimism. Orcs gathered around her.