Incest Is Problematic Both Biologically and Ethically
On my days off, I always wake up late. I don't really go wild until dawn anymore now that I'm older, but after eating half a chicken or half a pizza and stashing the rest in the fridge, I crawl into bed. Even after waking up, it's such a hassle to leave the sheets that I just fidget around with my eyes closed. Then the peaceful sunlight lulls me back to sleep. Only when I can't hold it in anymore and really have to use the bathroom do I finally get up around lunchtime and finish off yesterday's leftovers. That's how it felt that morning, but I didn't open my eyes.
The bed was so soft, and the blankets were just the right warmth, like some spell was holding me down and refusing to let me go. Ah, this is a world with magic, so maybe there really is a spell like that. The thought yanked me back from floating in the void to my flesh-and-blood body. It wasn't doubt that there might be such magic that grounded me—it was realizing this was that kind of world that snapped me fully awake. If this were reality, it'd be like blissfully sleeping in, glancing at the clock to see it's past 10 a.m. on a workday when I have to go in. Anyway, memories of what happened before I blacked out flooded back, and I knew I couldn't just lie there.
But the moment I opened my eyes, I hit a wall. My whole body screamed with muscle pain, and the spots where the ropes had bound me throbbed. To make matters worse, my arms wouldn't obey, locked behind my back. "Ahhh..." A groan slipped from my parched throat. I was hungry, thirsty, my bound arms ached, and even trying to flex a little hurt too much. Maybe that's why my voice sounded so lewd even to me, but my mind didn't stir at all. I'd thrashed in ecstasy until my body gave out like this, or maybe the resurrection spell had hit me with a penalty too. Whatever the reason, getting horny when my body hurt this bad? That'd make me a bitch in heat, not a person. ...Am I a bitch?
Lying on my side with my arms bound behind me should've made them numb, but the bed was plush enough to accommodate the strain without too much discomfort. The thin blanket outlined my body in stark relief. Seeing that made my heart race a little. My body thrilled at being bound, my mind surrendered to the visual kink, and just as they seemed to agree it was possible— I shook my head. Not now. I couldn't indulge this slutty body's demands for masturbation in a situation like this. These cult inquisitors had me locked up. And Hanbyeol was nowhere in sight.
I bit my lip, steeled myself, and scanned the room. Confirming I was alone, I rolled over and swung my legs off the bed, ignoring the horrific muscle pain. My whole body screamed like I'd overdone a full-body workout, but it still moved, so I gritted my teeth and bore it. I was still in the clothes I'd worn when they tormented me yesterday: a soft black priestess robe for women. The skirt—barely worthy of the name, bunched haphazardly around my waist under the blankets—fell back into place under gravity as I stood. They'd just moved me here, bound me, and left my black stockings on. Following the rope marks, the stockings were torn in places where strands had snapped. Looking down further, my thighs and ass bared by the side slits bore the rope burns.
Anyone seeing this would know instantly I'd been tied up. Shame burned, but I had no time for it. Standing on my smooth legs was a struggle, reminding me how crucial arms are. Without them to push off, the strain hit my legs and back harder. "Ugh..." Groaning, I staggered to my feet and headed for the door. Each step was agony, but I couldn't slack off—not when I didn't know what Hanbyeol was going through. My hands were bound to opposite elbows, so no using them, but if I could just save Hanbyeol, she'd handle everything. Unlike me, powerless without magic, she was a max-level mage. They'd seen her power; they wouldn't dare touch us carelessly. They'd only dragged her here using me as leverage. Yesterday was just post-resurrection haze. Once I wasn't a burden, she'd slip their grasp easily.
Reaching the door was a Herculean effort. Turning, I groped for the handle with my bound hands. Elbows crossed and tied below, I couldn't steady my arms, so I bent my knees, twisted my waist, and fumbled until I got it open. The moment I did, my eyes met Hamill's, seated on a chair outside.
"..."
"..."
A suffocating silence stretched between us. Should I pretend I didn't see him and go back inside? Yell about being tied up? Or stay calm and ask about Hanbyeol first? Standing there thinking made my unrecovered legs tremble. Priest healing fixed wounds, but not this muscle fatigue. Showing weakness in front of an enemy... Instead, I glared at Hamill. You lose if you look away first. He spoke first, so I won.
"Is your body all right?"
"How could it be, after what you did to me? What do you plan to do with me now? And Hanbyeol?"
I snapped back prickly at his casual check-in. My voice was too soft, never raw with hate toward others, so it sounded like whining to me—but I hoped it threatened them.
"Rest assured. The mage is safe. We have no demands of you, Saintess."
"No demands? You've got me tied up like this, and you expect me to believe that?"
"It's to prevent self-harm."
"If you hadn't shown up, I wouldn't have touched myself with a blade."
Would I ever cut myself? They took me hostage because this body was Iris's weakness. Staring at Hamill—his emotions unreadable as ever—I finally looked away. Eye contact with someone you hate is uncomfortable.
"Then where's Hanbyeol?"
"I'll guide you."
Hamill turned and walked down the hall without protest. Suspicious, but trapped in their hands with no options, I followed. His long strides pulled ahead. I quickened my pace out of spite, but my sore thighs and calves hurt so much I whimpered involuntarily. Sharp-eared Hamill turned, approached.
"Wh-what?"
"You seem unwell. Shall I carry you?"
"No need. Just tell me where Hanbyeol is."
"The temple dorms all look alike; you'd get lost."
From prison to the temple. Right into the tiger's mouth. Despair flickered, but saving Hanbyeol steeled me. I nodded and followed. My low-heeled priestess shoes still punished my legs and feet. I hated showing weakness before enemies unless feigning vulnerability, so I clenched my jaw and walked. My breath grew ragged—unavoidable. It didn't take long, but matching my pace slowed him. He had some conscience.
At a shabby door far from my room, Hamill knocked. A voice called "come in," and he opened it without hesitation. Inside, Iris and Hanbyeol chatted amiably.
"Hanbyeol..."
"Ah, unnie, you're up?"
Hanbyeol jumped up and hugged me. Arms bound, I couldn't hug back—just accepted it. Relieved she was safe, I eyed her shoulder awkwardly. Why are you smiling with her? A twinge of betrayal. But they probably hadn't told her what they'd done to me, so I let it go. Pushing aside the hurt, I confronted Iris.
"What are you doing with Hanbyeol?"
"We're getting to know each other, Saintess. How's your body? It's been two days since you collapsed."
"Two... days?"
If that long, Daesik must've sent people to find us. Wait for rescue? Panicking, Hanbyeol—still hugging—leaned back slightly. My limp body swayed with her.
"They said you overexerted reviving me."
"No, that's..."
I couldn't say I'd enjoyed my body while she died, so I glared at Iris. She winced apologetically with a smile—infuriating. But I couldn't burden Hanbyeol with that shame, so I sighed.
"Guess so. They tied me up to stop self-harm. You made me grab that spear. Untie me."
"No, unnie. Your body's her little sister's too. Iris doesn't want her hurt. Neither do I."
"Hanbyeol...?"
Unexpected betrayal—I pulled back, staring. She stepped forward, keeping the hug.
"It's fine. I'll do everything you need. You know I'm good at magic. Right, you're hungry? Let's eat! I scouted good spots nearby for when you woke up."
"No, Hanbyeol, that's not..."
Did they brainwash her? I glared at Iris, who smirked mysteriously.
"We've handled all the paperwork so you won't be bothered, Saintess. From Hanbyeol's background to proclaiming you Saintess. Hamill and I witnessed the resurrection—no doubts."
She'd dropped formal speech with Hanbyeol too? Fury rose; I argued what I'd normally accept.
"Resurrection? Any otherworlder healer could do it. And it's restricted! I can't revive everyone I want."
"But you're the only otherworlder now. You know—the Pope's prophecy has everyone jailed, awaiting execution."
"Execu...tion?"
Probing revealed the unexpected. Not just imprisonment? Eyes on Hanbyeol, she rested her chin on my chest, gazing up.
"You'll be the church's Saintess to dodge suspicion. I'll be your hired mage. We're safe, Daesik-oppa hands bad users to the council for safety. Then we find a way home unrestricted."
"Saying that in front of Iris..."
"It's fine. Her Grace hasn't used holy power lately. Inquisitors are watching—maybe she's the Demon King or plotting our downfall. Executions are delayed."
"..."
Her casual tone over lives chilled me. I'm no hero or saint—just an ordinary citizen. Hanbyeol might be disappointed, but my life mattered more.
"Even if you tell me, I can't do anything. Just healing and paperwork."
"Do what you want, Saintess. Join the church with us, or..."
"No. Unnie stays with me."
"...keep acting like now. Rumors of a beautiful black-haired Saintess will spread. That'll test the Pope. Better if you hunt monsters for fame."
"So you didn't come to catch me—you just verified?"
"Yes. We pushed you to extremes. Devout priests can't heal then. A fraud or necromancer would've been executed on the spot; a normal priest sent to HQ..."
Lucky to be raised a priest. Cold sweat. Different class, and I'd be dead. Or no priest, no Onyx hell. Count blessings. Half-doubting, I asked:
"So we can really go?"
"Yes. I'll escort you. You need guards, fragile as you are."
"Not just protecting your sister's body?"
"I won't deny it."
Figures. Relief at going "home"—that prison-like life—made me sick. Both places uncomfortable. But Hanbyeol safe, me safe—identity confirmed, no more paranoia. Case closed; find way home. Wait—no.
"Can't just let it slide. Hanbyeol nearly—actually did die because of you. What now?"
"We're truly sorry. Even if Hanbyeol forgives, we'll compensate."
"It's fine. We agreed."
Party's okay, so drop it? No more to say, I nodded. Tension released; head spun, body swayed. Hanbyeol supported me.
"Unnie, let's eat."
"Mm..."
Hunger hit hard. Two days unconscious—no IVs here; I needed nutrients.
But like this? "Wait, like this? I'm tied up."
"Fine. Drape this over..."
Hanbyeol wrapped a priest's shoulder cloth around me. Long enough to hide arms, but...
"No, can't eat tied up."
"Unnie, I'll feed you. Priests command slaves here—treat me like one. Everything's yours. No hands needed for washing—Purify works. Better tied so you can't hurt yourself, right?"
"..."
Her eyes flashed eerie; I flinched. Unable to retort, she beamed at Iris.
"Iris-unnie, ready to go."
"Let's. I'll carry the Saintess; she's weak..."
"I'll carry her!"
"...Understood."
Her regretful tone drew my glare. Buried under others, but she didn't look at me like a sister. Fingering my pussy without hesitation? Family or not, no one touches genitals casually. Even girls link arms, cheek-to-cheek freer than guys, but that's crossing lines. Surely twisted love for Ivy, unleashed now soul-swapped. For this body's owner, I'd guard my chastity from this incest-craving cultist.