The Morning Stroll
Serina slipped out of the room and stood in the long corridor. Fortunately, it was an hour when no one was about.
"You may leave whenever you are ready, my Lady."
Ervan meant it, too. He even told her that a small door at the back of the great hall led to a mountain path behind the building — kindly adding, for good measure, that the Order's people liked to enjoy their morning strolls there.
Serina was not afraid of showing her body. Every last one of them had already tasted her. After being toyed with to the point of sickness, such a thing didn't faze her at all. It was the place that was the problem. She had always been violated either in the great hall or in her own room, which meant that walking through unfamiliar spaces could bring a measure of relief — at least here, no one would pounce on her.
But then a new fear took root — that she might be violated outdoors, of all places. To smother the tension, she quietly closed her eyes and tried a deep breath, and even as she did, she had no idea how she was supposed to explain this feeling to herself.
She had refused the Hero because she hated the pain. That vile man would torment her in exactly the same way whenever he wanted something — of that she was certain.
Not that she approved of the rapes the Order carried out like daily routine. She could see it all too clearly: that sensation flooding her whole body as she was taken, her pleasure-singing womanhood devouring every last trace of the man she had guarded for the past year.
She was terribly afraid. If she let herself soak in pleasure like this and became a woman through and through, it would be no different from her true self simply ceasing to exist.
Soon, Serina took a step. Every time two clicks of her heels sounded, the footsteps of the man behind her followed straight after. He probably knew — knew full well how the heart of the woman keeping up this walk was drowning in confusion.
Serina felt as if she'd lost her way entirely. She had chosen the Order and this man because preferring fleeting pleasure to pain was the wiser path. So was she now meant to respect the Order's decision to drag her all the way down to the bottom? It was all bullshit. This time, too, she had been given no choices whatsoever.
The situation handed to her was brutally simple. Defy them, resist them, and she would be thrown back to that mad Hero once more. If she didn't want that, her only answer was to come and go, spread and feel and empty herself out, exactly as they commanded. She still did not want to die. And she could not die like this, either.
Of course, there was a reason. If she died now, there would be no one left to tend those poor souls.
But that could hardly be the only reason. Even without it, Serina might never have been able to choose death.
Back then, even while the Hero put her through all that cruelty, she had sought only some means of escape — not once had she ever reached for death. She could have grasped it easily enough if she'd merely stretched out her own hand, yet she couldn't bring herself to. No — she didn't.
Serina had never suppressed her own weakness, never once tried to give herself courage. Even if it meant living a life worth less than a beast's, she had hoped to remain in this world rather than the next.
And so she could not release the hand gripping the shield called womanhood. Her looks were lovely even by her own judgment, and by sheer luck they were reflected just the same in their eyes. She was certain that if she simply kept smiling and spread her legs, a pleasant life would be hers. In the end, hadn't she decided to become the Order's whore precisely because she wanted to live?
Serina started walking again. The leash, which had hung slack, began drawing taut little by little, and a faint crease formed on her face. Ervan soon caught up and relieved the tightness, but she could picture what would happen once they left this corridor, and her heart grew stormy with dread.
"Holy Lady, if you'll proceed to the hall just as you are."
Serina gave no answer, walked on in silence, and turned to the right. She flung open the hall's slightly ajar door and began moving through that darkness once more.
"How does it feel to be out of doors after all these months?"
"...It's lovely."
"You don't sound very pleased, if I may say."
The leash snapped tight in an instant, and Serina flinched, clutching her throat as cough after cough wrenched out of her.
"Kehk, hkk! ...I- I li-like iit..."
"Much better."
"Haa... haa..."
Bracing both hands on her knees, Serina gulped down air. It wasn't for want of breath. The moment the back door Ervan had mentioned came into view, heat bloomed low in her belly. It was as good as his announcing that the game he'd promised had begun.
'...I'm already about to come...'
Goosebumps shot across her skin, and Serina snatched her right wrist with her left hand. Her right hand, moving on its own, had been sliding toward the gap between her bare thighs.
Cold sweat began dripping from everywhere. When even that chill warped into a sensation stabbing up her spine, Serina had to keep drawing deep breath after deep breath. It was a feeling she couldn't possibly bear unless she pressed her thighs together.
"Hek?!"
"My, you're soaked through."
At the cold touch gliding down her thigh, Serina shuddered all over, dizzy with sensation.
"We're nearly there, so just hold on a little longer. Let's be moving along, shall we?"
"...Yes. Nnh... l- let's go."
Eyes squeezed shut and then opened, Serina dragged her heavy steps forward. With every stride, her nectar ran along her thighs down to her ankles, insisting on its presence. The clear, wet patter of it dripping was stoking the fire inside her.
The man beside her was not like Lean. If she truly begged him, he would kindly relieve this desire swelling to the point of madness — she was sure of it. Perhaps something even more delicious than—
'Ah... aah...'
It felt as though shock were spreading across her entire face. Thank goodness her back was to Ervan. If he had asked, she would have spoken her want just as it was. Take me, please, Father. That one line, and everything would be settled.
Clutching the door handle, Serina shook her head. That thorough priest was nothing like Lean. He hadn't engineered all this hoping for a plea so crude.
Having steadied herself, she turned the handle and pushed the door wide open.
"...Huh...?"
"Father Ervan!"
A boy kicking a ball off in the distance spotted them, waved cheerfully, and shouted. Lively cries began joining in one after another. Before long, four girls and two boys had gathered in a cluster around Ervan, all smiles.
"Still at play, were you?"
Serina turned her head and stared at him with blank eyes. 'Still? You knew there were children here, and you brought me anyway?'
Catching that look, Ervan gave a soft snort of laughter.
"Ughk."
Serina's expression crumpled at once. The sly priest had one hand casually covering her throat while yanking the leash hard back behind her.
"Everyone, come pay your respects to the Holy Lady."
"The Holy Lady?!"
Serina's heart dropped like a stone.
"Hello, Holy Lady!"
Those young, shining eyes all gathered together and peered up at her. Looking down into them, Serina could only shrink and shrink into herself. One more knot undone and she would be naked. They were gazing with pure reverence at a Saintess who might as well have been stripped bare — a lewd spectacle of a woman. She prayed, and prayed again, that those eyes would not wander lower. She did not want them seeing the obscene state of her, her thighs already drenched.
"Holy Lady, are you unwell somewhere?"
But it was a wish that could not come true. She had leaked that much nectar — there was no way she looked all right. Her cramped legs shook violently, promising that her posture would collapse at any moment, and Ervan was not a man who would allow her to slowly sink down.
Ervan wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Without a glance at the children watching, he slipped his hand beneath her clothes and seized one of her breasts in a hard grip.
"Heek! F- Father! Aahng!"
Merely having the nipple that had been straining upright pinched between his fingers made her toes curl and her mind swim.
"Oughtn't you to be greeting them?"
"Nnh, hnn... h- hellooo... haah...!"
"Huh? Does the Holy Lady receive purification rites too?"
At that artless question, Serina felt every hair on her body stand on end.
"Yes, that does appear to be the case. And would you children perhaps like to lend the Holy Lady a hand as well?"
And that wretched answer bestowed upon her a suffocating pressure. Every gaze in the group was converging on the bare flesh Ervan was kneading in his hand.
"Hnn, Fa... ther... that's..."
"It's quite all right. These children are, in due time, to become fine members of the faithful. What better education could there be than planting in them the fond memory of having once helped the Holy Lady?"
"Pleeaase... nngh... ahh!"
Ervan set his other hand moving and began to rub her womanhood. The drenched, sealed folds parted, and her legs were being spread slowly, inexorably apart.
"Heeak!"