What on Earth Were the Past Saintesses Up To?
"Hic, haah, haah..."
I trembled violently, clinging to Iris's arm. Well, clinging wasn't quite right—my arms weren't free enough for that. It was more accurate to say my forward-lurching body had been caught by her arm.
"You managed to protect your virginity again today, luckily enough. So, what was it you wanted to say?"
Iris had come home first and been waiting when I returned, ahead of Hanbyeol. As the only mage left in the guild right now, Hanbyeol must be swamped. She was practically the breadwinner of our household... while I was just a freeloader.
My legs, splayed wide beside the spot where Iris's finger had slipped out from my narrow slit, shook uncontrollably. This was already the third virginity check. The humiliation of having to endure this morning and night from now on burned in my cheeks, but Iris had only inserted her finger into my pussy without touching anywhere else, so I bore it. If I thought of it as her worrying over her little sister, I had to endure.
I wobbled unsteadily to my feet on those quivering legs and sank onto the sofa, waiting for my ragged breaths to calm before speaking.
"I've just been mooching off everyone, so I figured I should do something. I thought if I talked to you, Iris, you'd have some job for me."
"Hmm. The church is raking in donations thanks to you, Saintess. You could just rest easy."
"Donations and stuff... like that?"
"Among other things. But only if you're famous enough. Statues modeled after the Saintess's exploits, or byproducts and such floating around. Of course, some of that's frauds impersonating you or peddling 'Saintess memorabilia'."
Merchandise? Like I was some idol? The temple was skimming profits off that, so Daesik's demand for me to get money from the church made sense. Still, it didn't sit right with me. Getting permission for every little expense felt like pocket money from parents—I wasn't a kid. My pride in having lived independently and self-sufficient back home wouldn't allow it.
"Even so, lounging at home would make me lazy. I'd like something to do. And some personal spending money..."
"Fair enough. Pocket money's never a bad idea. How about a ritual to pray for prosperity? It'd be a big festival, so the offerings to you would be substantial."
"...I heard about that from Daesik. In front of everyone...?"
Public masturbation? Who'd do something that insane? Daesik had dressed it up like some ancient privilege for the elite, but I came from modern society—no way I could pull that off.
But Iris seemed to enjoy teasing me about it. She yanked the rope binding my arms, pulling my slumped form back onto the sofa.
"I see. So that's what you were getting at? How very fitting for our lewd Saintess."
"Right? Her body, voice, face—nothing about her isn't slutty. Kyaaah! Why?! I was just saying the truth! Have mercy! Mercy!"
Laila, chiming in to tease me alongside Iris, got her ass smacked by the spear shaft propped against the sofa. It wasn't a soft thwack but a sharp crack like bone on wood, yet Iris relentlessly chased Laila's hips with one hand, whacking away.
Whether they were filming a sitcom or not, I curled my legs onto the sofa, huddling against the chills wracking my body. One orgasm took stamina I couldn't ignore—I was a bit drained.
"Anyway, that's too embarrassing, so no."
"Hm. It might seem that way at first. But it's not like the old days, parading naked. There are good devices now. You just masturbate comfortably with one while circling the city. No need to strip."
"Huh? Circling the city? Not by the river?"
"Masturbating in front of fish? Not embarrassed?"
"..."
I couldn't comprehend these people's sensibilities. Staring at Iris in disbelief, she pulled my shoulder, nestling me against her chest.
"It's fine. No need to show skin or walk sore-legged. You sit on the device in a cart for a parade loop."
"..."
I couldn't picture it and hesitated to agree. No, there was no need to agonize—I'd never been into showing off my orgasms anyway.
"Just a prayer service..."
"Prayer service? It's not much different from the harvest pilgrimage ritual...?"
"Huh?"
"Prayer services are in the bathhouse. Wouldn't that be more embarrassing? Baring the beautiful body God bestowed on His Saintess before the priestesses and nuns, all praying together."
Flabbergasted, I looked up at Iris's face and asked again.
"...That means stripping completely?"
"You can't enter a bath clothed. It's returning to your primal, naked human form—the devout pray together beholding the Saintess in that state."
"Primal human form means...?"
"It used to be straight masturbation, but now with devices, it's not so undignified with hands."
"..."
"It hasn't worn off yet, so before Hanbyeol gets home, want to see one? I can arrange a little tour."
Money wasn't urgent, and now I was starting to think I didn't want to. The church was profiting off me anyway—what harm in mooching a bit? But voicing a change of heart now felt impossible; Iris's vibe was off. My instincts screamed that refusing here would lead to something bad.
In the end, I nodded, and Iris beamed like she'd been waiting.
"Great. We can soak in warm water while we're at it."
"Hanbyeol..."
"No worries. I know her schedule, and it's just a quick demo—not long. We'll be back before sunset."
With that, I had no choice but to follow Iris off the sofa. Laila grumbled as she rose, rubbing her reddened ass. Feeling a bit sorry, I cast a heal on her.
"Wah! Only the Saintess for me."
Laila sprang up and glomped me. I'd tested it on a whim since Purify worked last time—glad it did, but I was a little surprised. Was a succubus not "demonic"? Or did it work because she was my minion? Whatever. I could experiment on other succubi or demons later.
In case Hanbyeol got home early, Iris left a note: Back soon—dinner together. It oddly comforted me. Maybe it wasn't the kind of device I feared.
And it totally was.
Following Iris to a sealed room in the temple corner, I found tools like those from the torture chamber on display. I froze, hesitating at the entrance, but Iris grabbed the knot at my chest and yanked me in.
"Wh-what is this place...?"
"Punishment room. For past Saintesses who strayed or erred—to aid their repentance. It'd been empty without one, but now you've come in my sister's body from another world. These are newly made and maintained. See? Nice and shiny."
As Iris said, they gleamed like oiled. Glancing back at the now-closed door, I saw Laila's face lit with excitement.
"The temple has better toys than we succubi...?"
"Strong bodies don't need tools. Frail humans made them to protect themselves from predators or for convenience. Demons evolved their own bodies. You get the difference."
"Who you calling dumb? Still... it'd be great if Eve used these on her parade lap. New ones mean custom-made for her, right?"
"Smart demon. Exactly. Tailored to the Saintess's build."
I averted my eyes—nowhere safe to look. While I shrank to a corner fleeing their gazes, the excited pair stood by each tool, explaining with sly glances my way.
"This cross restrains arms at the ends. Fold the bottom to carry, or kneel and brace like this."
"Heavy?"
"Solid wood through and through. Used to discipline lazy Saintesses skipping training. Sometimes for posture—arms over armrests pull shoulders back."
"Eve. Try it?"
"N-no thanks..."
I realized the oil's true nature now—not lube, but aphrodisiac-infused perfume. Sweet scent, tingling chest just from smelling it. Familiar from before.
Slathered as "lubricant," or just maintenance? "We're not here to punish you, of course. Next, the rack. Locks neck and wrists, folds waist to right angle. For spanking, but plain pain's just violence. Now we use gentler penalties instead of whips. Hehe, want to try, Saintess? Neglect duties and run—I won't mind."
"Wh-where would I run?"
She acted like I should bolt just to test, so I replied in a shaky voice. Laila fiddled with the rack.
"Bet there's a matching set."
"Of course. Shackles linked by a bar—can't spread or close legs beyond a set distance. Pairs perfectly. Wheels under let you parade the neighborhood at fixed stride for reflection. Waddling with spanking makes even vulgar talk embarrassing enough to quit. But our refined Saintess won't need it, right?"
"Y-yes! No bad words from me..."
Iris lifted leather restraints from the wall—use unclear.
"Folds and binds arms and legs. Ends up crawling on elbows and knees. Pads protect. For shaming the church—wear while circling temple all day. Bit connects to anal hook, keeps head up."
"Whoa... human imagination's wilder than demons. How do you know so well? Tried them your— Kyaaah! Sorry! Mercy!"
"Perfect example—time for education."
Grabbing Laila's hair, Iris forced her to knees and deftly fitted the restraints. They auto-targeted limbs; Iris just pressed, and they whirred tight, forcing Laila doggy-style.
"Normally gag and tail too, but can't use Saintess-exclusive on others. Stay put while I show her the rest."
"Sob... me like this..."
Laila flopped spread-eagled, watching us. Iris gently tugged me to the next: a white leather chair, nearly reclining, with belts for head, arms, legs.
"Originally no restraints, but customized for you. Parade chair. Tradition was hand-play during, but things change. Better toys now. Curious? Try it?"
Stroking attached vibrators and lower-body fixers, Iris smiled seductively. Imagining strapped in, tormented to orgasm after orgasm, limbs bound—no escape, just writhing... parade unending despite pleas... My belly clenched.
Accept now?
"N-no. Dinner soon."
Shaking off the shiver, my reply lagged. Sensing my waver, Iris purred stickier.
"Just a demo—quick."
I swallowed dryly, refusing. Thank God for high mental strength.
"Pass."
"Hehe, tell me anytime. You'll guess the rest... Like this prayer service one. Familiar?"
"..."
Last, Iris caressed the torture room cylinder—split lengthwise, laid flat, with a clit-protruding vibrator. No hanging or standing torment; kneel on it, probably. Pray-ers kneel hands clasped—not totally off, but...
My face stiffened staring; Iris stroked my head softly.
"That time too rough? Hamill forgot the timer. Don't worry—I'd never harm my sister."
"R-right."
I nodded awkwardly; she grinned.
"Made with care—kneepads too. Sit?"
"No, tomorrow's soon enough. You did great."
I blurted to dodge, then realized—I'd handed her my nose on a platter. Iris stroked me smugly.
"Hehe. Prayer service tomorrow morning? Eat, arrive by 8. Bath before 9 start."
Too late to back out. I sighed, nodding. Fine. Bath-prayer—not bad. In water on that... not exposed. All women.
Thus ended the tour.
On the way home, Iris leashed Laila—still bound—promising new restraints later. Normal folk dragged doggy-style would've drawn stares or intervention, but rumors about us? Succubus like that wasn't odd. With priestesses and nuns in bondage fashion, one bitch-slave succubus was everyday.
"Hmm. Succubus stamina? Human would've collapsed. Saintess, those restraints suit Laila perfectly—better make new ones?"
"Mmph, mmph!"
Just give her those—no new ones, please.