Driven to the Brink
Judging by the last five minutes alone, she must already have come a good ten times—and still, with every drive of his cock into her, she wagged her hips as if delighted all over again, spilling her ragged breaths.
The sight of her eyes rolled into thin crescent moons and her mouth turned up in a pretty smile seemed to stoke the fire in the heart of the priest pinning her beneath him.
"Hahk! Ngh, ah! Haahk!"
He lowered himself to wrap her body entirely in his embrace and began snapping his hips. And, just as she had so often done for Ervan, her legs coiled around him.
A sneer settled on Ervan's lips. Her mind lay open before him—she was surely convinced that if she simply surrendered everything to pleasure like this, the stigmata would restore itself in its own time.
Saintess. Nothing will come to you that easily.
If it were truly that simple, the stigmata should have brightened long ago.
"Hahh... ngh..."
Holding her in a crushing embrace, the priest emptied himself into her to the last drop and then withdrew. He glanced once at Ervan, gathered up his clothes, and left the room without a flicker of reluctance.
Moving at a slow, unhurried pace, Ervan stared down at the bed. The naked saintess lay just as she had been left, legs splayed wide, a faint smile still curving her lips.
"Saintess. Did you know?"
"Hweh...? Y-yes...?"
Lowering himself, Ervan pressed a hand to the nape of her neck and whispered into her ear.
"Your stigmata has grown even fainter."
"...........What did you just... aahk!"
Seizing her by the hair, Ervan dragged her across the floor and flung her down before the vanity. Hauled up by her hair once again, Serina stared at the woman reflected in the mirror—and in the next instant, her face drained white.
Ervan had told the truth. Unless she focused, it was so blurred she could scarcely make it out.
"Haa."
That one heavy sigh bore down hard upon Serina's mind.
"It seems the Saintess does not care for her life as it is now."
And that single remark drove her to the very brink of collapse. Her body shook violently, the clatter of her teeth spilling out without pause.
"I-I-I-I was wr—mmph!"
"Do you imagine a problem like this is settled by whining for forgiveness like a sniveling brat?"
With one hand clamped over her mouth, Ervan narrowed his eyes and carved his features into a scowl.
"It seems, Saintess, that only when you are truly cornered will you offer the Goddess a proper prayer."
Ervan shoved her head away hard, knocking her to the floor.
"Ahhk!"
"My apologies, Saintess, but I find myself wanting to ask again the question I posed at the very beginning."
Striding over, he seized her jaw and thrust his face brutally close to hers.
"Would you, by chance, care to experience a gang rape firsthand, Saintess?"
Her heart dropped straight through her body, and she strained with everything she had to shake her head. But no miracle came to thaw the stone of Ervan's face.
"My apologies, but I am not in the mood to hear your answer."
Serina was appalled. Only afterward did she register that her thighs had gone damp—she could not even govern her own body anymore.
"So frightened at just this much that you're about to wet yourself—yet you could not even manage a proper plea for something as small as the restoration of your stigmata?"
"S-save... f-forgive... me... I was wr... aahk!"
As though even the sound of her voice offended him, Ervan sealed her mouth shut beneath his broad palm.
"Saintess. I will give you a choice. Plead with the Goddess and restore your stigmata. Fail, and nothing but anguish will await you until the very moment of your death."
He finished in a low growl.
"Let me make one thing clear: the gang rape about to begin is only a fraction of the suffering the Saintess has yet to taste. For the time being—no, until your stigmata is restored, you will have no occasion to return to this room."
The collar was fastened. Confinement, and now one more restraint had been added. If there was any difference from before, it lay in the way they treated me.
Right up until Ervan himself dressed me in my undergarments and vestments, I had thought of nothing but the gang rape. And in the end, I could not walk out of my own room.
When Ervan yanked the leash with all his strength, my body tipped in an instant and I toppled backward, belly up.
"We are going to the great hall."
"Ghhk! Kehk—! Kehhek—! Gghhhk!"
Leaving only those words behind, he began dragging me down the corridor, my throat cinched taut by the collar. Resistance against him was impossible; all I could do was flail against the death that had closed in on me. I clutched the collar with both hands and kicked frantically at the empty air—every movement brimming with the will to survive. It felt as though the moment I stopped, even for a heartbeat, I would die outright. So by the time my consciousness began to haze over, terror had seized me more completely than it ever had. I was still that weak person who weeps like a child at the mere thought of dying.
"I have heard the Saintess has shown defiance. After all the pains Father Ervan took, for it to come to this—what outcome could be more lamentable?"
From the instant I was tossed, forsaken, into the center of the great hall, extreme terror had already claimed me. It was as though a full panic had descended. Not one word of what the five bishops lined up before me were shouting reached my ears.
I was afraid of them. Their naked crowding around me made my skin crawl—because they wore the expressions of beasts about to devour me alive.
"Kyaaaaaaaahk!"
There was nothing in this world more frightening. While my vestments were torn away and my undergarments stripped off, I thrashed and resisted without end, screaming until my voice broke.
That I would try harder. That I could do well. That I would restore my stigmata no matter what it took. That I would become a true saintess. I had screamed it all out so desperately—
"I leave her in your care, Bishops."
"Understood. When the correction is finished, we will call for you separately. Stay out until then."
"Yes."
Once Ervan withdrew, what came for the abandoned me was holy law. That same holy law which had always left me frantic with torment rolled over me in a single wave, carried on the words and gestures of those five bishops.
All this while, no matter how intense the holy law laid upon me, it had only ever come down to facing Ervan alone. Because at some point I had given up on resisting—without his training, I was useless. Only now did it strike me, anew, how terrifying the things he had done to me truly were.
"Huaaaaaaaaahk...!"
Could that scream really have come from my own mouth? Those thick fingers had done nothing more than churn my cunt a single time, and yet a wretched shriek, something hardly human, had torn out of me hard enough to split my ears.
At this point, I could no longer put a name to what I felt. I, I, I...
"Just as Father Ervan did, we too will grant the Saintess a chance."
My thoughts snapped clean in two. I knew what the vessel in that priest's hand was. A slime—the kind used when an enema was required.
"As you have no doubt felt, our methods of correction run rather rough, so we wished to ask whether we might be permitted to take the precious virginity of your lovely rear."
No. Anything but that.
I could yield everything else; I did not want that place stolen from me too. I shook my head with all the strength I had left.
"Ah, ah, uhh, ah... aahh..."
No proper words would come. A single careless gesture from them had sent climax after climax crashing through me, and even now I was spilling my love-juices.
"If you dislike it, then do it yourself."
The bishop holding the vessel leaned his face in close to mine.
"If the Saintess applies herself properly to pleasing herself, we will not use this."
My head moved before I could think, bending downward. My crimson-flushed cunt was gaping and dribbling, spitting water. I sensed that if my hand so much as grazed it, something beyond recall would begin.
After all, the me of the past would have been writhing, too wrecked to hold her body still—yet here I sat, calm and sound even while leaking this much. The fear drained away almost at once. Because I—because my body—loved pleasure. So... if I just made myself feel good like this, at least the back would be spared.
Squelch.
"Haah, aahk... haaaahk...!"
It was nothing more than two fingers sinking in and raking along my inner walls. And yet my body was already enthralled to pleasure. Before I knew it, my arched spine had fallen back against the bare floor, and even that bone-chilling cold could do nothing to me. I knew perfectly well that the longer I caressed myself, the more wretched I would become—and still I could not stop the hands clutching at my breasts, the fingers grinding into my depths as if to wring out my very heart.
I had gone into heat past all endurance—so badly that even this agonizing pleasure had to be taken in.