Is the Saint's Embrace Warm? (1)
We kneel on the bed, bodies upright, facing each other. Our hands are clasped, our eyes locked. Azalea's gaze is like a clear sky—blue light with a sunlit radiance that makes her eyes impossibly beautiful.
Karik's and Lumina's eyes were lovely too, but theirs held a hypnotic allure that pulled at the body. Azalea's beauty is different—purer, untouched, like the midday sky itself when the sun is high.
Azalea leans forward slightly, pressing closer. I freeze but do not pull away. The saint's faintly glowing eyes flutter shut. Her face fills my vision, and her soft lips meet mine.
"Mmm… hnn… chu…"
Our tongues slip out, brushing each other's lips before delving deeper. They tangle, and wet, obscene sounds echo in my head.
"Chuu… tzz… haa… ngh♡ hnn…"
"Tzz… mm… uhn… chuu… haaah…"
We kiss deeply for a long while before parting, gazing at each other's faces.
"Saint… ma'am…"
Azalea's eyes remain straight and clear, but mine waver. She is the Saint, after all.
"Um… is it really all right for you to do this with me…?"
Azalea's eyes widen for a moment, then melt into a spring-sun smile. She draws back, swings her legs off the bed, and sits comfortably on the edge. With a gentle gesture, she invites me to join her. I follow as if entranced, our shoulders touching.
"I was born in a small farmhouse on the eastern edge of the Empire," she begins. "It was a place full of livestock. As a child, I treated the chicken coops and rabbit hutches like playgrounds."
The Saint's old story… I have no idea why she is telling it now, when our bodies are flushed with heat, but I listen in silence. It is a tale she has never shared before, and curiosity stirs.
Azalea summons a small light above her palm. I sense at once that it is not magic—it is the very power of light governed by the God of Light. Just looking at it feels as though my eyes might burn. For someone like me, already steeped in memories and deathly corruption from beyond, it is almost unbearable.
"I could do this from the moment I was born. Later I learned that wielding such power without faith or training is a mark of those chosen by Him to influence this world. Strange, isn't it? Our tiny village had no cathedral, not even a single priest from the denomination."
I think of the malevolent entity from beyond that forced an unwanted reincarnation upon me and murmur quietly.
"…The gods always do things we cannot understand."
The words are irreverent, yet the Saint only offers a gentle, pitying smile.
"Yes. That is something only you could say, Kaira. Since it is you, I cannot even argue…"
She rests her right hand lightly over the back of mine and continues.
"Word spread. People from the denomination came. Before I was even ten, I had to leave my home. Even as the Saint, I needed to serve as a proper priest, so the moment I came of age I entered the seminary here, received ordination… but I had no friends."
Azalea strokes the back of my hand. The gesture looks lonely.
"No one hated or envied me. Everyone treated me kindly. But it was reverence, not friendship. Not a single person treated me as an equal… In the beginning, you were the same, Kaira."
I nod silently. The Saint chosen directly by God had seemed impossibly distant to a fresh graduate of the magic academy.
"I never showed it, but that journey—even though we had to slaughter the corrupted without mercy—was joyful. It felt like I finally had a friend. The only people who ever saw me without walls, without distance, as an equal were the Hero's party."
"…So that is why you pulled me out of my room and introduced me to Valdenheim."
"Yes. I felt sorry seeing you shut yourself away. The result… turned out badly, though."
She had been worried after all. If I had never gone there, I would not have been kidnapped and locked in that basement.
"It is all right. That was not your fault…"
Even without Azalea, something from beyond would have twisted my fate to use me as its vessel.
"And then you brought Pirel to me. Because of the corruption rooted in her, we lived together, yet Pirel treated me without pretense too—perhaps even more than you did. Despite the age gap, she felt like a childhood friend. Just like Kaira's mother, I suppose."
I had never heard this before. Of course I had not; I had never visited after leaving Pirel in her care. So Pirel had been living that way… Bringing her here might have been an even better choice than I realized.
"That is why it is all right. I can rest in your arms, Kaira."
"B-but—"
I cut in quickly.
"I am a woman…"
It is a pathetic excuse, nothing more than an attempt to dodge the weight of her feelings.
"Pfft. Now, of all times? You seemed to enjoy yourself plenty with those children earlier. Besides…"
Azalea smiles oddly and strokes my hair once.
"You said you were a man in your previous life, did you not?"
Heat floods my face. I turn away so she cannot see how red I have become and try to hold my ground.
"But, Saint… what if… what if this is your first time…?"
"Hehe. How adorable, Kaira. Of course it is not. The Light Denomination has no vow of chastity, and during seminary I shared a dormitory with other girls… I even peeked into that room earlier. They all handled me like a glass doll, so it was never satisfying. Therefore…"
Beyond my averted gaze, I hear something soft and fabric-like fall.
I turn my head.
"Ah…"
Azalea has stripped off her nightdress, revealing her radiant naked body, and smiles at me.
"I will take you, Kaira. This will not be my first experience, but it will be the first one that truly satisfies me."
I…
I cannot betray the expectations of my precious friend.
I fling the camisole—held only by its two thin straps—onto the floor. My panties follow. Compared to Azalea's magnificent form, my own body looks dry and pitiful, like chopsticks stuck into a log. Shame burns through me.
…Yet even this body had no trouble being sold to men. They rather liked it. I only hope Azalea will like this slender frame as well.
"Still… I am a little nervous…"
"You have done it plenty of times."
"Not with you, Saint… I never even dared imagine—hyaa?!"
Azalea pulls me into her arms. Her large, soft breasts smother my face; I cannot breathe and let out an involuntary, wanton sound.
"Hehe, how cute. Pirel was the same—your body just screams to be mothered."
"Mmph… D-did you… do this with Pirel too…?"
"Of course. We lived together. As I said, Pirel treated me without prejudice…"
Struggling, I manage to pull my face from between her breasts. After swallowing hard, I look at her body.
Even at rest, an enormous amount of holy power leaks from her. Azalea's skin is wrapped in a faint glow—not so unnatural that it looks wrong.
It is a beautiful naked form. To a man's lustful eyes it would surely appear intensely erotic, yet instead of stirring desire it only looks sacred. I have long since forgotten what a man's heart feels like.
Azalea smiles as she watches me examine her.
"Well? Does this body make you want to do it?"
"Yes… If I were still a man…"
I trace her breasts, her stomach, the curve that leads downward with my eyes. Kneeling on the bed, the Saint's—her womanhood—is fully exposed.
The Saint's modest sex. Unlike my own, which has only a few transparent hairs, hers is a lush, mature thicket like a ripe wheat field on fertile soil. That… is going to touch my own long-since-defiled, obscene folds.
Suppressing my excitement, I finish my sentence in a trembling voice.
"I would have pounced on you right away… even knowing the Saint would cut me apart with blades of light in her anger."
"So you are saying you will not pounce now."
The moment the words leave her lips, something slams me down and pins me. I cry out in surprise.
"Hyaat?!"
"I will be the one to pounce. My hand-to-hand skills are far superior, and my body is larger."
"S-Saint… ma'am…"
Still straddling me, Azalea shifts her hips slightly.
"Hiiit…!!"
Our sexes meet. Mucous membranes press together… and a sticky, lewd sound begins to echo. At first it is quiet, matching the gentle motion, then it grows into a desperate, heated cry that betrays how aroused we are.
"W-wait… ah, down there… suddenly… rubbing…"
Azalea ignores me. Or perhaps she simply cannot hear. The wet, squelching sounds that should never come from the Saint's body spread across the bed like mist.
"Haa… ah, haa… This… is the body of my precious friend Kaira that I have always wanted…"
Azalea's ragged voice reaches me like an echo from a shallow dream—breaking, scattering, shattering.
"Hnn… hngh… ah… Saint… it is so hot… it feels like my pussy is melting…"
I could never have imagined it. To be in this kind of relationship with the Saint—comrade of the Hero who defeated the Demon King—was something guilt alone should have prevented me from even considering.
So,
I ask for something even harder to imagine.
"Um… Saint… please… reach out your hand… hyaa…♡"
"K-Kaira…? Haa… hand…?"
"Y-yes… I want my neck… strangled… Can you do that? You already know… because of that basement… my preferences, everything, got twisted and strange…"
Hesitation flickers in Azalea's eyes. Of course it does. How could the Saint, raised in the sunlit world of light, ever have seen something as broken as this? She could never understand.
Yet,
"Ah… all right."
Surprisingly, the Saint grants my request. Her expression is grim, as though fulfilling a precious friend's twisted desire is simply part of friendship's duty.
Then her hands—hands that wield a greatsword longer than my body—tremble with hesitation as they touch my throat. Feeling that contact, I cruelly urge her on.
"Quickly… hngh… please… Use Azalea's strong hands… and strangle Kaira's neck…"
Looking at my pleading face, resolve hardens in Azalea's expression. Strength fills her grip.
"Hhk?! K-Khh… kahak… ugh… ngh… ngh… …♡ …! …♡"
The world recedes in an instant. Enjoying the sight of darkness creeping in from the edges, I thrash my arms and legs, clutching the bedsheets.
'Ah… already… I am… going…♡'
And just before consciousness cuts out,
A vulgar squirt and the sound of liquid trickling out pour from the same hole.
"Hhk… hngh… ugh… hnn…!! hngh…♡"
Vision returns. Azalea's face appears above me, wide-eyed with shock as she watches me convulse like a dying person, eyes rolled back.
"K-Kaira…? I only choked you for a moment, yet you came so spectacularly…? Pirel was never like this…"
Innocent Saint… my far-too-good friend looks at me with teary, worried eyes.
"Y-yehees… Kaira is… a bottom-feeding, perverted bitch who comes while being strangled…♡"
"I knew, but it is still hard to believe… You really have broken quite a lot, Kaira…"
"Ehe, ehehe…♡"
Azalea regards my idiotic, tear-and-drool-covered smile with pity, then snaps her fingers as though struck by an idea.
"That reminds me, Kaira… Do you remember?"
"W-what… re… member…?"
"Your previous life."
"I-I do… but why so suddenly…?"
I answer weakly, my body still twitching from the aftershocks. My head is not working properly; I cannot begin to guess what Azalea is planning with this question.
She smiles mischievously, as if she has thought of something amusing. Something feels off, but I am still leaking from the climax, so all I can do is lie there limply, soaking the bed with the filthy yellow fluid still seeping from my bladder.
Yet when Azalea makes a slightly suspicious gesture, my weakened body reacts on reflex.
"Hyeaaat?!"
An impossible sensation—something that should not exist—makes me arch my hips and look down.
"K-Kaira, did you feel that? How is it?"
"A-Azalea… ma'am…? What… what did you just… do…?"
"What do you think?"
The small nub at the center of my sex—the cute little switch that brings a girl pleasure, my clitoris—stands rigidly erect, far harder than it should ever be able to on its own.
And surrounding it, a dense halo of light—the holy power granted by the God of Light, a miracle made manifest—gathers with tangible substance, as though it could be touched.
It looks as though my clitoris has been used as the core to shape this… this…
Entranced, I reach out and touch it.
"Hhhit…?!!"
"How does it feel…? I do not really know, but since you have a past life… Does it feel real?"
I have no strength left to answer. Seeing the light take physical form, feeling a sensation so vivid it seems directly connected to my nerves, I laugh as I break apart.
"Haa… ha, ahaha… ahahaha…"
After thirty years… it has been returned to me.
My… precious… ehe, yes, the one I missed so much…
"Dick…♡"