No Calamity Came
Even though the Hero had taken the Saintess's maidenhood, no calamity befell. That alone was enough.
Banishing every stray thought, Lean began to look her over. She, for her part, was rocking those breasts and adjusting her position with a single purpose in mind — getting his cock buried inside her.
Chup. Mwah.
Just that much had him teetering on the edge, and then she leaned her upper body down and began caressing his chest. She stayed like that a while, lips sealed around his nipple, trembling, before straightening back up.
A face flushed deep red gazed down at him. The faint upward curl of her lips was beyond charming, and even the thread of drool slipping from between them seemed like it would taste of sweet fruit.
What man alive could refuse this? Unable to hold back any longer, Lean moved to say the words — that she could put it in now. But Serina had other ideas.
"...Lady Saintess?"
Serina had suddenly twisted herself around. Bending forward, she thrust her hips straight out behind her, and for a long moment Lean simply stared, dumbstruck, at the sight spread before his eyes — devoid of even a single wisp of hair, her pearly flesh and vivid crimson pussy and anus exposed in shameless detail.
"Hngh."
While he stood lost in admiration, Serina's tongue began to work over his cock. This time, too, she took in half of him and suckled at the crown, wagging her hips all the while — then ducked her head low and drove him to the root in one swallow.
The heat of her mouth coiled around his cock and set a fire roaring through Lean's chest.
"As you wish."
Pressing his mouth to her pussy, Lean began lapping at it like a dog. He sucked at her with the resolve to grant her more pleasure than the effort she was pouring in. Every nip at her clit set her thighs shuddering; every thrust of his tongue into her depths made her back arch, her crushed breasts rubbing against him again and again.
It was already a feast for the eyes — but for Lean, the greatest satisfaction still came from seizing that ass in his hands. He kneaded the plump flesh with his fingers as his tongue went to work, and in less than a minute Serina's cries of passion burst out of her like something detonating.
It wasn't the torrent she'd unleashed in the carriage, but the nectar she spurted out in that short burst was more than enough to drench his neck and face. Serina's beautifully arched body quivered, then released a long, shuddering breath. Intoxicated on her own excitement, she was putting on a lewder display than she ever had in her life.
In that state she lowered her head and took his cock into her mouth once more — and he could see her reddened, swollen pussy twitching open and shut. Lean could bear it no longer and drove his hips upward. Somehow, anything, he needed to shove himself down Serina's throat to bleed off this heat.
Startled by the sudden movement, her teeth scraped along his shaft, but wrangling the scalding pressure rising toward release came first. He bucked his hips again; her body lurched, and both her arms wound tight around his thighs. Anchoring herself at last, she bowed her head deep and swallowed him to the root in a single gulp.
The sight of her fucking her own throat on his cock — as if determined to wring the climax out of him by sheer will — scoured away the last of Lean's patience. With his cock buried to the hilt, his hips gave a thin, helpless tremble. Even as the sound of seed pumped deep into her throat being swallowed rang out again and again, there wasn't the smallest flicker of complaint to be found. There was only the Saintess, mindful even of the final cleanup, diligently sucking at the cock still held between her lips.
As reaction after reaction poured out of her — each one unmistakably unlike the performance she'd staged until now — Lean gave the Saintess's ass a gentle stroke. Everything was perfect. The thought that this was the beginning of the relationship he had yearned for so desperately drew the moment out into a long, lingering glow.
Crunch. Crunch.
Perhaps that was why, even at that jarring sound, he failed to react for a beat.
"Khhgk—! Gaaagh!"
Only when the scream that had torn out of him on pure reflex finally bored into his own ears did Lean grasp what had happened.
"Ptui! You broken son of a bitch."
His cock had been cut off. In this rapturous moment, with the sweet aftertaste of release still blooming in that wonderful mouth. In the space of mere seconds, overwhelming pain flooded the hollow where his pleasure had collapsed. Blood surged up from his lower body and drenched him, and Lean could do nothing but scream. Astonishingly, that was truly all he could do.
"A Hero, whining over a little thing like this? Think about what you did to me all this time — this isn't nearly enough!"
And now even that was beyond him. His mouth had been sealed shut completely. The handle of the mace the Saintess had conjured was jammed deep into his throat.
"Did it feel good, shoving that filthy thing into my mouth? Fuck — I asked if you enjoyed it!"
Alongside Serina's vicious, spitting cry, the mace came crashing down at last. Amid the agony of his esophagus searing as if set aflame, he began to be crushed beneath the light. With his throat being shredded to ribbons, Lean's body convulsed violently, his eyes rolling half back. The mace fell twice, then three times, drove him to the very brink of unconsciousness — and then vanished on the spot.
"Whoever you are, wherever you are — I'll pray that someone holding a grudge against you kills you in the most agonizing way possible. You're a eunuch now anyway, so it would be even better if you just went ahead and died on your own."
Immediately after, light flashed, and Lean's consciousness dimmed. The last thing he heard was hurried footsteps receding beyond a door that boomed shut.
She had run flat-out for five minutes straight, pinching the flesh of her forearm, rapping her own head — keeping the stimulation coming, whatever it took. Because this could not be a dream. Because it could not be a phantom spun by the Holy Sword. The certainty didn't come easily.
It was such a tiny village that not a single soul could be found stirring at this hour before dawn. At first she debated stopping by the guard post, but in the end she chose to go alone — the memory had surfaced, unbidden, of the guard there flaunting his friendship with Lean. What a soldier would do upon discovering the Saintess in the dead of night, reeking of blood, was obvious as day. There was no chance in hell he would escort her where she wanted to go. Hounded by urgency, Serina pushed her legs faster.
Before long, a house with its lights on came into view. 'Thank goodness. It wasn't a dream.' A baby's wailing and the voices of its parents drifted out to meet her. Greatly relieved to find it was no illusion, she slowed her pace.
'Agh... it hurts more than I thought.' The moment her frantically wound-up body regained a measure of calm, everything that had piled up began to make itself known again. Chief among the offenders was her chest. Having been aroused until only moments ago, her swollen nipples were dragging against the fabric with every step. Serina crossed her arms and pinned her breasts as still as she could. It made walking awkward, but it was a marked improvement — until, with one problem solved, every other part of her began to wail in chorus.
Her whole body had begun to ache as if beaten black and blue. Had it been the aftermath of a long run, it might have dulled by now, but the tingling, creaking soreness in her lower back was unmistakably the work of vigorous sex. Of course it was. She had coupled with Lean more times than she could count since meeting him. With breasts that swayed at the slightest motion, she had always come home from work utterly spent — and Lean had been a man who delighted in watching them heave violently every time his thighs slapped against hers. Bound to a man like that, made to rock her body this way and that for hours on end each day — it would have been stranger not to hurt.
Suddenly gloomy, Serina hunched her shoulders and shortened her stride. At least, she thought, she'd survived a whole year in this body — and by now she knew, roughly, how to move so that it tired less.
Another five minutes of wandering without destination, and at last she passed beyond the village. Studying the signpost planted at the entrance to the forest road, Serina confirmed the direction of the city where the Order kept its seat, and set her steps toward it.
With the village truly behind her, the tension drained out of her completely. Automatically, the heated memories from the bed began to play back. Her face flared red in an instant. She was aroused — from the shame she couldn't bear, and the sheer fucked-up wrongness of it all.
'......Aaagh! So annoying!' She wanted, more than anything, to scream until her throat gave out. But kicking up a ruckus in a tiny village without even a proper watch would clearly do her no good, and so every ounce of frustration echoed only inside her skull.
'This is so fucking unfair. Shit!' Bit by bit, her grievances with her present state began spilling over. 'What the hell was so good about that bastard, that I went cross-eyed biting and sucking all over him?' Try as she might, Serina couldn't make sense of it. Of course, it had been one pleasure after another and she'd lost herself completely in it — but this time it had been on another level. As if some spell had been cast over her...
'Wait. Surely this world doesn't let you put someone into heat, right?' A moment's thought produced a far more mundane answer. 'Oh — maybe it wasn't magic. Maybe it was an aphrodisiac. Right. That gutless bastard slipped a drug into me.'
Drugged into heat. With that single piece added, the whole puzzle snapped together at once. 'That utter son of a bitch. The very first thing I'll beg of the Goddess when I see her is to beat him to death — just you watch!'
In any case, one thing was certain: she had lost her mind for a while there. The moment she'd properly come, her senses had snapped back as if lightning had struck. That feeling, too, was somewhat novel. 'That queasy feeling when someone walks in and cuts you off halfway through touching yourself.' Her desire had guttered out in an instant. And so — still holding it in her mouth — she had severed it, and exacted a modest revenge upon Lean. He had likely never once imagined his throat would be violated by so massive a handle. Remembering how Lean had thrashed where he lay, Serina found laughter bubbling up that she could hardly contain.
'Honestly, that bastard has all the luck. Anyone else, and it's obvious he'd have been beaten until he couldn't even breathe and left for dead — but of all people, it had to be someone like me, so he gets to go on dragging out his wretched little life.' She decided to take satisfaction in the fact that, at least, that much revenge had succeeded. He was a man she truly hated enough to want dead, after all. To scrub that bitterness away entirely, even tormenting him for a whole day straight wouldn't come close to enough.
Her giggling alone in the dark ended just as quickly. The dawn air was bleak and bitter, and walking alone through the black with only a little light to lean on was a nerve-racking thing in more ways than one. Then as now, she was terrified of ghosts and things of that ilk, startled half to death by anything that sprang out at her. So no matter that she walked with her radiant hand serving as a lantern, she could not dispel the dread that something might come lurching out of anywhere at all.
'Why am I suddenly so scared?' Serina had a feeling she was going to start disliking herself, little by little, for being such a coward. Now — and a little while ago, too.