A Body That Cannot Break
There was never a moment when a cock wasn't clasped in her elegant hands. Whenever someone rocked their hips against her, her lush, full breasts heaved along with the rest of her body.
Even that recoil found its use. Men would wedge their cocks between her soft fingers and pump their hips with diligent fervor. Her pudding-soft breasts were crushed against cocks again and again, and the valley between them was rubbed raw by countless more until a furrow formed there — a groove filled with cum.
"Would the Saintess care to have a taste as well?"
And the ones who gathered it all together and shoved it into her mouth were the men known as the priests of this place.
It was the moment common sense shattered beyond repair. Then again, this was a mad Order that used its nuns to service lust — perhaps expecting common sense of them had been the mistake from the very start. And yet, she had wanted to correct that mistake.
"AAAAAAAGH—!"
Because it was, quite simply, unjust.
Serina cut the memory off there, seizing her head in both hands and shaking it wildly. The sight of herself, so miserably trampled, still flickered before her eyes like an afterimage — and the desperate screams she had let out then went on ringing in her ears long after.
To the men who spoke of those acts as deeds done for the Light, Serina had asked: if this wasn't gang rape, then what on earth was it? Over and over, hoarse and desperate, she had screamed it and screamed it again.
The answer to that question — one that seemed it would be ignored until the end of time — came only on the last day of the baptismal rite, when she faced Bishop Ervan. Even as he violated the Saintess, he answered in a tone of perfect calm.
"Hm. Would the Saintess, perhaps, like to experience this 'gang rape' for herself?"
In that moment, Serina was certain. She had glimpsed something like sincerity in the words of the priest rocking his hips beneath her. These men, it was clear, were fully prepared to ravage her with everything they had, if only they set their minds to it.
She never asked that question again. She had no wish to suffer anything even worse in this place.
She simply—
was violated, without end.
and despaired, without end.
When one man left and another took his place. When more seed surged into a womb already filled to bursting. Every single time, without fail, when they put her mouth to use for "cleaning."
And—
"Hahh... hah... haahh..."
As if to commemorate the end of the baptismal rite, they ringed around her where she lay collapsed on the bare floor and began to stroke the cocks gripped in their fists.
She broke completely.
Over her trembling body — eyes rolled halfway back, shaking uncontrollably — the seed of dozens of men came raining down. Her entire body was drenched in the sticky stuff, as though she had showered in semen.
"Then we'll leave the final cleaning to you."
Driven to the very brink of unconsciousness as she was, in that one moment alone Serina opened her mouth of her own will and sucked with devoted care. The belief that if she did this one thing properly, the baptism would finally end — that was what bought her the time to learn her role so faithfully.
"Khehak— cough, cough."
The moment she finished cleaning the last man, she collapsed, utterly spent. The seed clinging to her throat brought cough after endless cough, and tears streamed from her unfocused eyes. Even through all of it, she felt with perfect clarity the semen pouring from her cunt — as if to remind her that the only path ever given to her was to receive their seed. That was the reality of it. For the past hour. And now, just as then.
Feeling that vile sensation welling up between her legs, Serina screamed once more. This, too, was something she had done for the entire hour.
Only one thought began to circle in her head: that she had to find a different way.
The scream cut off abruptly.
Serina picked up the glass beside her and climbed off the bed.
Crash.
The instant the cup struck the floor and burst apart, Serina snatched up a shard, leveled it at her own face, and dragged her arm down in a single stroke.
".........Why... why..."
The result was absurd. The only thing that touched her face was the slick of her own sticky fingers. And when she heard the deflected shard clatter to the floor, only then did Ervan's voice from long ago come echoing back to her ears.
"I have laid a holy law in constant effect for the Saintess's protection. For as long as you remain within the Order, nothing save the Holy Sword shall be able to inflict so much as a scratch upon you — so please, rest at ease."
She clapped her still-trembling hands over her ears, but Ervan's voice would not stop. Taking the tremor in her arms as its cue, her whole body began to shake violently.
"KYAAAAH! Shut up! Shut up, shut up!"
At last, unable to bear it, she tore at her hair, then flailed her arms in every direction. Anything that so much as caught her eye, she wanted to destroy. These were things they had prepared for the Saintess — so surely it was only proper that they end up broken, just as she was now. Her hands reached for anything she could seize and throw. Ornaments arranged about the room, and every manner of thing besides, shattered one after another, their wreckage scattering across the floor.
When there was nothing left to break, Serina turned toward the door. It was the only means of escape from this room, which did not have so much as a single window — and so she set out to break it down. She ran at it headlong and slammed her body into it with everything she had. Once again, no harm came to her protected body. Taking that as her cue, she kept throwing herself at it until her strength ran dry. Somewhere past a hundred, she stopped counting — because that worthless tally would only deepen her despair. Just as she had expected: even after ten full minutes of hurling herself at it like a woman possessed, the door did not budge an inch.
A hollow feeling settling over her, Serina turned away. One last time, she took her place before the vanity, stared at the haggard thing staring back at her — and drove her head into the mirror. Two blows were enough to shatter it. But that didn't satisfy her, and she brought both hands down on the glass without mercy, hammering at it with her forehead all the while. This time, too, no blood came. Naturally — because nothing hurt at all.
"Hhk... hck... why... why..."
As her head sank low, the tears came without end. No matter how she turned it over, the reality given to her was too cruel. It was so unjust she wanted to die that very instant. And yet there was nothing she could do.
In the end, her will spent, she let herself collapse onto the bed. Two hours was enough to scrape together what little strength she had. She pushed herself up, drinking in the rancid stench that rose from her own body. She had not moved in order to attempt anything new.
Footsteps were sounding from beyond the door. Serina turned her head and stared at it. Even now, that lone door remained the only way out. And that door had never once honored her will — not at any hour. Just as her legs had been forced apart by men who wanted her body.
Knock. Knock.
"Saintess. It's Ervan. Pardon me for just a moment."
The door was rigged to open only when someone had business with her — just like now. The only way out of this situation was the option they had given her. All she had to do was spread her legs herself, the way she had before Hero Lean. Ask to be violated. Then that door would open for her, whenever she pleased. Serina had no intention of doing any such thing. And yet, at the sight of Ervan's expression, regret came flooding in.
"Hm. I thought you must be tired, so today I intended only to bring your meal."
Watching Ervan's gaze drop to the floor as he stepped inside, Serina had to admit her mistake. She should at least have tidied up her surroundings. The aftermath of that long gang rape was still written across the room — and of course that vile priest would never tolerate such a sight.
"Seeing the state of your surroundings, it seems a little education is in order."
"Seeing the state of your surroundings, it seems a little education is in order."
Ervan, still surveying the floor, raised his light-wreathed right hand and gave it a short stir through the air. A flash blazed for an instant, and the debris strewn across the floor began gathering toward his hand. He incinerated the refuse cleanly in light, then let out a small breath. All of it had happened in the space of ten-odd seconds. Serina, meanwhile, had been braced for none of it.
Clack.
The moment he undid his belt, Serina fled to the head of the bed, letting out a strange, animal sound — like a cat frozen in terror.
".........D-don't... come... Get away from me!"
"Saintess. Surely you made a promise to me, one week ago. To refuse your education now, after all this time — that would be rather troublesome."
"Stop it. Please... please..."
Ervan crossed the room in a few long strides and stepped up onto the bed.
"Come here."
At the sight of the hand extended toward her, the color drained from Serina's face. She pressed her palms together and began to beg.
"I was wrong. Please... forgive me. I don't want to go any further... please..."
"Saintess. Is that truly the best you can offer?"
Serina flinched, hurried herself onto her knees, and rubbed her palms together again.
"I-I was... wrong. Just this once, please forgive me..."
"Yes. That's it. His Excellency, too, wishes to see the Saintess carry herself with such proper words and deeds."
As a smile spread across Ervan's lips, Serina felt something like hope spreading through her as well.
"It seems you are finally ready to receive a proper education."