Isn't Changing the Bathtub Water a Luxury?
"Uh, uhh... Iris? Something... feels off..."
I had a bad feeling and tried to stand, putting strength into my legs, but on my knees, I just twitched helplessly—I couldn't move at all. The devices fixing my ankles, knees, and thighs kept me from even lifting my ass off the apparatus. Custom-made, she'd said, and sure enough, the protrusion aligned perfectly with my outer labia, poised to vibrate right against my clit without ever penetrating.
"Shh, Saintess. You have to be quiet during the prayer meeting."
"But what's binding my legs...? It wasn't like this yesterday...?"
The tail sprouting from my panties and wrapping around my legs was still. It wasn't that tightening them so taut. The texture was different. But Iris ignored my anxiety.
"I said be quiet. Guess that won't do."
"Hmph!"
Where'd she get it? Or had she planned this from the start? Iris shoved a gag into my mouth and hung it from the pillar too. Kneeling on the apparatus, back straight and fixed in place, unable to even turn my head, I was forced to meet the gazes of countless eyes watching me from all sides. My head was the only thing above water, but those sitting on the bathtub's ledges had their chests fully exposed too—many of them. It felt like presenting to a boardroom full of executives; my breath caught in my throat. And worse, I wasn't wearing a thing. The anxiety that it could end any moment made my whole body shiver despite the warm water.
"Mmmph... Nngh! Eugh..."
The news had already spread; my mouth opened unwittingly, spilling a moan. Muffled by the gag, only stifled sounds leaked out, echoing softly through the bathhouse. Prayer meeting, my ass—amid the priests and nuns with eyes closed in supposed piety, some women stared at me with sparkling eyes. No, barely 20% were actually praying earnestly. Most of the priestesses and nuns—even the slaves attending them—gawked at me with wide, eager eyes. The men had blindfolds on, heads bowed to the floor, but their cocks were all throbbing erect, which only deepened my shame. Were they aroused just from sharing space with naked women? Were they naturally that big? Or had my moans made them hard, like I imagined? I couldn't tell. But all that focused attention on me, just as I was about to cum, made my body tingle unbearably, hastening the climax.
"Hnghk, haa, aaah...!"
My waist arched desperately, blocked by the supporting pillar. The intense pleasure stole my breath; I trembled violently, squeezing my eyes shut. With so many people around, the quiet bathhouse felt even creepier. What kind of prayer meeting was this? Why had Iris brought me here? I couldn't understand. But understanding or not, the vibrations didn't stop—like those nights in the torture chamber.
"Haa, haa, hnghk, grrgh...!"
Panting to catch my breath after a while, the unrelenting stimulation sent fresh jolts up my spine from my quivering lower half. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or closed. My vision flashed white, my expression a ruined mess—I had no idea. One cheek felt like it was twitching.
"The Saintess's bathtub has clouded. Sisters, change the water with fresh clean water."
"Yes, Sister."
Splashing sounds approached as people crowded around me. I couldn't turn my head—the gag's strap fixed to the pillar—so I had no clue what they were doing behind or beside me. I just trembled in ecstasy. My hypersensitive body shivered anew as the water slowly drained from neck-level.
"Haa, haa, haa..."
I felt the water recede so vividly: over my shoulders and collarbones, past my breasts, waist, thighs, calves, feet. The air should've warmed from the hot water, but now it felt chilly, making me shudder. The device vibrating underwater now buzzed audibly in the air. Or maybe that was why I shook—not the cold.
"Haaah, hnghk, haa..."
The gag pressed my tongue and palate, making breathing awkward. Saliva I couldn't swallow dribbled from the ball gag's holes, trickling down my chin. I tried sucking it back, but it was futile. Drip. I felt spit hit my thigh. In front of all these watchers—though they could only see my face—showing them me drooling in pleasure brought tears to my eyes.
A nude nun carrying a huge basin—big enough I'd wonder how her slender frame managed—saw me crying, hesitated mid-pour, and looked troubled.
"Sister Iris. The Saintess is..."
"Yes?"
Iris's voice came from behind. She sloshed forward on the wet tiles, made a faintly pitying face, then licked the tears from my cheek. Her tongue trailed slowly up my cheek, brushing my lashes; I squinted that eye shut.
"She's not crying from sadness, so don't worry—just pour the water. The Saintess must be cold."
"Understood."
From my legs up, warm water submerged me again. Only when it reached my chest did my shivering ease a bit. Of course, it didn't stop heading toward climax. I was just holding back as much as possible with people so close.
"Hnggggh...!"
But suppressing orgasm had limits. Before the tub filled, the shock hit my brain; I rolled my eyes back. My waist bucked forward instinctively, stretching my gagged mouth sideways against the pillar-fixed gag. Through the gap it couldn't fully seal, pooled saliva drooled out in a stream.
"Hnn, hnn, hnn."
I couldn't imagine how wrecked my face looked. Tear-streaked, distorted by the gag, drooling like mad. A saintess bound, eyes rolled back, gasping—what a joke.
"Sister Iris, should we... change the water again?"
"Hm. It's not good to produce endlessly. Change it and let's rest a bit. Demon. You can rest too."
"Mmmph. Even I, a demon, find this exhausting... Eve's gonna die like that."
"It's fine. There are several priests here ready to cast recovery prayers."
Murmurs around me, but another wave building made my convulsing body too distracted to make out words. Just before my fourth climax, the vibrations stopped. The sudden halt left me disoriented; panting, blinking tears from my eyes to clear my vision, the water drained out like an ebbing tide.
"Mmmph, mmph, mmph... Nghh..."
Sorrow welled up; I whimpered unwittingly. Was it exhaustion? The sudden chill? Please not regret at the denied peak. Worried I'd choke sobbing, Iris removed the gag. Simultaneously, the devices locking my kneeling legs clicked free.
"Haa, haa... Just let me rest a little... please... it's too much..."
"I untied you to let you rest. Lean back against the edge for a bit."
Iris extracted the pillar wedged between my arms and back, then helped me slump against the tub wall. Too weak to lift my head, it lolled forward. In my hazy focus, I saw pink fluid staining the floor and my body. Probably my fluids reacting with some scented oil or reagent in the water. It'd been clear originally. Suddenly, that pink coffee flashed in my mind, sprouting odd suspicions. No way they're collecting and selling this. But fresh water filling the tub washed the doubt away. Pink drained through a corner hole; the plugged tub refilled clean. Holy water coffee could be pink. You couldn't call black coffee filthy either. Just coincidence.
Three times since morning—could I survive the day? And it wasn't even over. Rest, then tied again for more. No clue why or the purpose.
"Iris... why are we doing this...? Is it really because I'm the saintess?"
I even resented her a bit. Was she shoving me into this harsh setup out of grudge? It was her little sister's body, after all. No reason to work it this hard. She stroked my head with a feigned apologetic look.
"It's a ritual to purify everyone's body and mind. The Saintess burns away others' desires in this moment, letting them spend the day with pious bodies and hearts."
"I-I know this sounds petty, but... watching another woman writhe in pleasure usually just makes people hornier, right...?"
Like porn quenching thirst? No way. It'd stoke desires, not sate them. True for men and women alike.
Iris countered with an absurd reason.
"Masturbating to the Saintess's beautiful body is wholesome. Jerking off thinking of kids, beasts, or demons is sinful. Exposing yourself keeps the faithful from straying to such corruptions—it's a saintess's virtue. Enjoy it while it lasts."
So, become an exhibitionist for healthy sexuality. I sighed gloomily; Iris dangled a realistic carrot.
"Plus, 30 gold a day. Endure an hour, and it rolls in."
Decent daily pay. Exorcising that evil tree got 300 gold. Generous compensation. Yeah, just one hour... I nodded, steeling myself. Endure one hour a day, save steadily for gear to protect my body, buy Hanbyeol a gift too. Always receiving—I wanted to give back. Money seemed tacky, but I had no crafts or taste beyond character creation...
A small gesture would be nice.
"Got it. How much time's passed?"
"About 20 minutes. Two more rounds like this, then done. One more break."
Not easy, but I nodded with a pout. 30 gold, 60 chicken skewers... Yeah, pay and perks. Not torture. Better conditions, with breaks.
"Saintess, you've recovered some energy, so let's resume purifying our bodies and minds. Kneel like before."
Under Iris's guidance, I knelt again. Ankle and thigh restraints clicked on. She erected the pillar to support my back. Glancing around, my eyes met Laila's. She was bound in those restraints too, molested by two nuns. Demons need purification. The gag went back in, head fixed—I lost sight of her. Better off than Laila, at least. Warm tub water, less strain on joints submerged.
"Mmph, mmph♡"
If I can't avoid it, might as well enjoy. My body loved it; no one judged public pleasure here, so why not indulge? Shame wouldn't fade, but no guilt. Eyes meeting other priestesses or nuns embarrassed me, so I lowered my gaze, savoring the device teasing my clit. Clear water gradually turned pink. Ahh, here it comes again.
"Uh... Eve? You okay?"
"Yesh..."
I couldn't fully enjoy to the end. Second break: Iris, Laila, other nuns—whatever they said, I just nodded blankly, pupils dilated, staring into space for the last 20 minutes, drifting on waves of climax crashing over body and mind. It'll end eventually. And finally, the prayer meeting closed. Others' hands dressed me; my languid, repeatedly orgasmed body in warm water barely registered, just vaguely noting they were washing me.
Now, carried piggyback, I breathed to the sway: inhale two steps, exhale two.
"Hey, Inquisitor. Eve's spaced out."
"Hm. Saintess?"
"Yes."
"We go to prayer meeting tomorrow too, right?"
"Yes."
"She's fine."
"No, look. Soul's gone. Eve, can I fuck you senseless at home later?"
"Yesh... Huh?"
"Tch. Snapped out of it. Shame."
I shook my throbbing eyes, head lolling. Or upside down? Cool air sharpened my foggy mind. A slender but firm back carried me; cheek against it, Laila grumbled beside.
"She won't remember that message now. Eve, Onyx's underling came by earlier, super worried. Raid scheduled tomorrow—can you make it?"
"Oh... really...?"
"Yeah. You just nodded along blindly; he worried and said he'd check back when you're coherent. Lucky it wasn't a scammer forcing a promise to screw you over later."
No memory. Who talked? Laila's words drew blanks; I groaned.
"Ugh, the prayer meeting..."
"It's over. How was it? Manageable?"
"Tough..."
"Your stamina's low, so it was rough. But you endured to the end—tomorrow, the next day, you'll improve."
Max-level stats maxed—miracles beyond? Greedy hope. But encouragement, so I nodded.
"Hope so..."
"Now head home for dinner with Hanbyeol. Discuss that Gae Saeng Guild thing with her too. You're too nice, Saintess—you take on burdens blindly, so talk to Hanbyeol. Got it?"
"Yes..."
Being called a kind big sis warmed me; I smiled faintly. No recall of words or visitors, but they wouldn't trick me. Inquisitor and demon colluding? No point—hiding from one empowers the other. Both witnessed, no doubt. Raid, huh. Riskier than an hour's stable pay, but higher rewards. Healers essential even in a revivable world full of injuries. My prior raid experience helped. Leaning toward yes, but discuss with Hanbyeol as advised. Other users joining meant firepower, but gear sucked. No high-end weapons/armor yet—even Hanbyeol wielded a basic mage robe and staff from a clothing shop. More DPS better; as the sole mage user, her role mattered more. Maybe targeting me to get her. She follows me, so if I go, she goes. But she's savvier—better heed her. She'd stop a reckless raid.