Sea's Temple Stay
Perfect darkness and silence, where all the world's noise was utterly blocked out. Sea's consciousness slowly floated up in that pitch-black void, like a wisp of down.
The first sense to return was smell. The nauseating oil stench that had stabbed her nostrils and the scent of her own humiliation were gone. In their place, filling her lungs was a faint, pure lily fragrance and a sweet aroma that soothed the mind.
Next came touch. The cold, hard grip of steel that had constricted her, the rough surface that had scraped her skin—they had vanished. What touched her bare flesh now was the unbelievably soft, plush texture of the finest Egyptian cotton sheets. Someone had washed her body... so warmly, so meticulously clean.
Finally, hearing returned. No more horrific vibrations, no stifled screams of her own, no wheel sounds that seemed to stop her heart. Only... the peaceful chirping of birds from beyond the window and the faint rustle of leaves in the wind.
Where... am I?
Her last memory was bidding her brother a cruel farewell and being shoved back into the dark, vibrating carrier by the 'Fox Mask.' After that, she'd lost consciousness countless times on the blurred line between terror and ecstasy—nothing else came to mind. Slowly, she lifted her heavy eyelids, feeling like lead weights.
And what met her eyes was a landscape utterly unlike the chaotic expectation—a completely alien yet perfectly pristine new world.
This was no world she knew. It was the room of an unfamiliar girl, flawlessly ordered. Sunlight poured through a large window where pure white lace curtains fluttered softly, and every piece of furniture was crafted from expensive solid wood.
The moment her gaze fell on the dozens of paintings and frames covering the walls, she swallowed hard. Every single one had the same subject. Her 'savior,' cloaked in crow-feather mantle and plague doctor mask.
In some, he descended from the darkness like a god of salvation, majestic. In others, he overlooked the world like an absolute sovereign, arrogant. Some were like medieval religious icons, with a sacred halo encircling him. This wasn't just a room. It was a living chapel, built to worship him—brimming with obsessively devout, fanatical faith.
On the desk sat intricately painted figurines modeled after him, fresh flowers as if offered every morning, and a small incense burner wafting fragrant smoke.
There were... others besides me.
That realization froze her heart cold. She wasn't his sole saved one. She wasn't special. This room's owner served him with a depth and completeness of faith she couldn't even compare to. Her lower abdomen, marked by the Salvation Stigmata, grew faintly hot in response to her jealousy.
"Ah, you're awake, new sister."
The door opened soundlessly, and a girl entered carrying a tray. Dressed in a pure white dress, with clear, large eyes. Koharu. Her face bore an innocently radiant smile that clashed with the fanatic scenery.
Sea instinctively shrank back. But Koharu, ignoring any wariness, set the tray on the chair beside the bed. On it sat a glass of warm milk and freshly baked bread, steam rising gently.
"Did you sleep well?" Koharu's voice was affectionate and kind, like reuniting with a long-lost big sister. "You must have been so shocked. It's okay. You're safe here now. It's the Savior's home... no, our home." She emphasized our with joyful weight.
"Aki-sister prepared a meal. It's the first feast to welcome you to the Savior's temple. Come on down."
Koharu pointed to neatly folded clean undergarments and a pure white dress just like her own at the foot of the bed. "Change into these first. You got... so dirty last night. I washed you all clean. Every corner of your body, every filthy spot."
Those lewd words from her innocent face overwhelmed Sea with a sensation like all her blood draining away. This seemingly pure girl had washed her unconscious naked body last night... even her deepest places?
Unaware or uncaring of Sea's despair, Koharu smiled like an angel and quietly left, saying she'd wait outside.
Left alone, Sea stared blankly at the clean clothes handed to her. She'd thought parting from her brother and being trapped in the carrier had utterly broken her. Yet she awoke washed clean in a cozy bed. And this place was a beautiful temple worshiping her sole savior.
This might not be a prison. This might truly be salvation. A sanctuary of those who served only him, free from painful memories of her brother and the world's filthy gazes.
Hot tears spilled endlessly from her eyes once more. No longer tears of despair. They were the relieved, grateful tears of a lost lamb that had finally found sanctuary after abandoning all.
How long did she weep? Cautiously, she rose and picked up the pure white undergarments and dress Koharu had left. The soft, clean cotton felt like it washed away her sullied past. Slowly, she dressed. As the undergarments wrapped her lower abdomen bearing the Salvation Stigmata, the brand emitted a pleasant warmth and faint glow, as if whispering good girl, this is your new skin. The dress fit her perfectly, feeling like a chaste nun's habit.
As she finished preparing, Koharu, waiting outside, smiled again and led her. "This way, sister. Everyone's waiting."
The moment she took Koharu's hand and stepped out, Sea truly felt she'd entered a different world.
The corridor was finished in long, glossy dark-toned solid wood. The cold marble under her bare feet signaled this was no ordinary Japanese home. The air carried the lily and incense from Koharu's room, mingled with appetizing savory food scents—and beneath it all, faint but unforgettable... the dense afterscent of her savior, Jinwoo's mana. It wasn't mere fragrance. It was the absolute male pheromone dominating the entire space. Just inhaling it made her abdominal stigmata heat again, her thighs growing slick unbidden.
Her gaze fell on the corridor wall decorations. Strangely, no family photos or landscapes. Instead, bizarre yet erotic artworks in scroll mounts like Eastern ink paintings. Traces of voluptuous, ripe breasts and nipples in black ink. Below, a relief print of a woman's swollen secret mound and its vivid central slit. Beside it, equally massive or youthful-yet-firm other breasts and budding flower buds. Every print bore a stark red lipstick mark like a brand.
These are... women's... bodies...?
Realizing it flushed her face with shame. Yet a strange reverence rose too. Here, women's bodies were displayed as sacred art. Will my body... someday be offered and recorded for the Savior like that? The profane thought sent a fierce wave of pleasure from her stigmata through her body.
At last, they descended the stairs to the living room—the heart of this temple.
Sea swallowed. All furniture was gone. In its place loomed a massive, ornate obsidian throne. Empty, yet its presence overwhelmed the space, evoking the illusion of an invisible god seated there, watching all.
And around the throne were her new 'family'.
At the table linked to the kitchen stood the voluptuous, beautiful Aki in a deep navy silk cheongsam that revealed every curve. She arranged food meticulously, but her attention fixed on Sea descending the stairs. Her eyes held no warmth. They were the cold, sharp gaze of the harem matriarch appraising the new youngest.
In one corner by a large window, a woman in tight black training wear polished her magic bow with soft cloth. Her back alone radiated untouchable strength.
Then she slowly turned.
Sea’s heart stopped.
That face, those eyes, that arrogant air. Unforgettable. The 'Fox Mask' who’d crammed her into the carrier, called her a 'green bitch.' Now maskless, staring down at her.
"Hng... ugh..."
A terrified whimper escaped Sea's throat. Last night's humiliations—carrier vibrations, stifled screams, cold mockery—crashed over her like a tidal wave. She recoiled instinctively.
But that instant, her abdominal Salvation Stigmata flared like fire. Not fear. It was... jealousy.
Sea realized. The woman who'd made her so wretched was one of the Savior's too. No—far earlier, far deeper in his world than her. That sturdy body, arrogant gaze. Not just a bitch. A partner—his sword and shield. Sea had been a mere onahole masturbating with his sent dildo in a corner, weeping. This woman fought at his side.
That awareness devoured her fear, igniting black flames of jealousy.
"Ah..."
Her body shivered with electric thrill against her will. Fear had twisted into masochistic excitement. Like her... I want to be strong too, stand at his side. Push her aside, become his sole hunting dog.
Barefoot on the cold marble, before the senior bitch staring down and the unseen master's presence, Sea trembled faintly. No longer from fear. It was the jealousy and resolve blooming in the new bitch: to survive this hellish harem, surpass them all, claim his sole favor.