A Body Optimized for Copulation and the Toilet Saintess (She's a Virgin)

In a corner of the inn room, the reflection staring back at me from a freestanding, full-length mirror looked entirely different from my previous life.

Broad shoulders, a chiseled six-pack, and shredded, rock-hard muscle fiber tracing every contour. There was no question about it—I had ended up with a powerhouse physique. Yet, somehow, despite the visual upgrade, I didn't actually feel overwhelmingly stronger than I had been in my past life.

Goddess Fellatio. No, wait—Pellatia, right.

She was the deity governing physical beauty and sexual intercourse, if I recalled correctly. Her divine blessing had certainly rebuilt me from the ground up, but instead of turning me into a combat-ready war machine meant to sweep across battlefields, it seemed she had remodeled me into an aesthetic work of art—a body, quite literally, 'optimized for copulation.'

Worse, I had noticed a strange draft grazing my scalp, only to realize I was completely bald. My face hadn't changed all that drastically aside from losing a lot of baby fat, sporting a sharper jawline, and having crisper features, but stripping away every last strand of hair gave the impression of a totally different person. Why on earth was I bald? Was baldness supposed to be some kind of symbol for raw virility?

And the most glaring change of all... was the cock throbbing ferociously between my thighs. Both its girth and length looked easily double what I'd had in my past life. Even at rest, it radiated a heavy, undeniable presence. This had to be the 'enhancement of genital functions' that the system had blabbered about earlier. Incredibly straightforward, to say the least.

Still, I couldn't complain. Put bluntly, I'd gotten an extra coin and respawned. Rather than whining over lost follicles, I chose to be grateful for this strapping build. It was a hundred, a thousand times better than the frail, withered carcass of a researcher who had died of overwork after pulling all-nighters for three days straight just to write a dissertation. Honestly, I had few lingering attachments to my previous life. Degrees, research—I had never loved any of it; they had merely been the grueling means to survive in an unforgiving society.

Shaking off the brief reminiscence, I reviewed the system messages suspended in midair once more. Holy Water Baptism and Evangelist of Pleasure. The names were blatantly lewd, and true to form, their descriptions were just as shameless.

To sum it up simply: the more sex I had, the stronger both my party members and I became. It felt just like an eroge RPG.

Having grasped the general picture, I turned my attention toward the Saintess who had walked into the inn room with me just moments ago.

Beatrice, the blonde beauty who had summoned me. She was sitting modestly on her knees in a corner of the bed. For a priestess robe, it was far too profane and suggestive—featuring a side slit that cut all the way up to the crest of her thigh.

Why isn't she stripping? Is she waiting for me to undress her myself?

Puzzled, I took a step forward, only for her to flinch violently and scoot her rear backward across the sheets. Soon backed against the bedpost with nowhere left to retreat, she finally squeezed out a trembling voice.

"E-E-E-Excuse me, H-Hero?"

Not just her voice—her entire body was quaking as if caught in a violent earthquake. Cold sweat streamed down her porcelain forehead, and as she squirmed while desperately avoiding my gaze, she looked for all the world like a terrified herbivore cornered by a predator.

Was she embarrassed?

Her unexpected reaction made my head tilt in bewilderment. Back at the Summoning Altar, she had proudly declared herself my 'toilet.' I had fully expected to be pounced on and devoured the second we stepped into this inn room, so I couldn't fathom why she was suddenly paralyzed with terror, trembling like a leaf.

"U-Um, the thing is... The truth is..."

Her eyes glued to the floorboards, she began pouring out a tearful confession in a voice barely above a whisper.

"So, to get this straight: all that bold talk about being a 'toilet' earlier was just you putting on a tough front because the high priests were watching?"

At my deadpan interrogation, the Saintess shrank back and replied meekly.

"Yes..."

"And you're still a complete virgin who's never even held a man's hand."

"Yes... That's correct."

"Yet because of our impending adventure, you find yourself cornered into surrendering your first time to me today?"

"Yes... Huh? N-No! I mean, it's t-true that I have to offer it to you! But it's not like it has to be t-today, right this second... I mean, the whole concept of having to offer it in the first place..."

She leapt in surprise, frantically waving both hands in protest.

The full story she spilled went something like this: The devotees of the Pellatia Order, which worshiped the goddess of physical beauty and sexual intercourse, lived scandalous, passionate lives—constantly stripping down and rolling in bed at all hours of the day.

With exactly one exception: the Saintess, whose absolute virginity was strictly required to conduct the hero summoning ritual.

Come to think of it, the blessing description mentioned being able to inspect a target's Sex Status Window.

The moment the thought crossed my mind, a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cheerful chime—ding!—rang out, and a translucent system window materialized before me.

Laying bare another person's most intimate secrets in such excruciating detail... That goddess sure had quite the twisted hobby. Regardless, seeing the word 'Virgin' stamped prominently across the status window confirmed her claims. The system had no reason to lie, after all.

"Looks like you really are a virgin."

At my final verdict, Beatrice sniffled in indignant sorrow.

"Hic... Yes... All the sisters and devotees around me are banging day and night all over the place... while I'm just an innocent virgin who's never done anything more than secretly touch herself in the corner of her bedroom..."

The trope of a Saintess being a virgin was as cliché as it got, but in an order serving the so-called 'Goddess of Sexual Intercourse,' didn't this feel a little backwards?

"Why does the Saintess have to be a virgin in the first place? Is it like that in other orders too?"

"No... It's only our order. Goddess Pellatia pretty much ignores the calls of anyone who isn't a virgin. So the Saintess performing the hero summoning ritual absolutely has to be a maiden..."

"...So that so-called goddess was the problem all along."

A goddess of copulation who was a hardcore virgin purist. Hilariously enough, the setting somehow made sense.

"Wait a second. Didn't you just say the people in your order do nothing but screw day and night?"

"Yes, that's true..."

"And you said the goddess is obsessed with virgins. That means practically nobody in your order can properly communicate with her in the first place."

"I... suppose?"

"Then how in the world is your order even functioning?"

Faced with my sharp critique, the Saintess furrowed her brow, pondered for a moment, and replied:

"...Smoothly?"

The deeper I dug into this clown-car order, the more my head throbbed.

"Then where on earth did you get those filthy lines at the altar about being a 'cum toilet' and whatnot?"

Flushed crimson to the very tips of her ears at my scolding, she mumbled:

"...I've read a few subversive books in my spare time... Or rather, quite a lot of them..."

"So all your knowledge came from books."

"Yes... Since main church activities like sex, and sex, and more sex were strictly forbidden to me, I had nothing to do other than read. B-But I swear I didn't seek them out on purpose! It just so happened that the sanctuary library where I lived was stocked with nothing but those kinds of novels..."

Beatrice scrambled to keep up her desperate defense.

"A-Anyway! Even in novels, people usually take things slow, getting to know each other and opening their hearts, starting with a tender kiss to build physical intimacy step by step before doing the deed! So we should take it slow too, one step at a time!"

"Not really. Pretty sure there are tons of stories where they just shove it in right from page one."

"...W-Well, that's true, but... I need a little more time to prepare mentally, you know? C-Could you please put away that monstrous thing of yours first? I-It looks twice as thick as the toy I use... If something like that plunged all the way inside me, my brain would probably melt..."

Just how many erotic novels had she devoured? Her vocabulary was thoroughly tainted.

What was I supposed to do here? I was an educated, reasonable intellectual. I had no intention of jumping her like a beast in heat when she was terrified and actively resisting. Still... wouldn't it be fine to coax her gently and give it a shot?

Ending my brief internal debate, I lowered my voice and ordered:

"Strip."

"Eeeeek!"

My firm command made the Saintess's shoulders violently jump.

"A-A-A-Are we really doing it right now?!"

She stammered, eyes wide as a startled rabbit's. Caressing my glossy, bald head, I calmly confirmed it:

"Naturally."

In that instant, the color drained from Beatrice's face until she was as pale as a sheet. But just as she clutched her collar with tearful eyes, trembling uncontrollably—

Grumuuuuumble—!

A thunderous rumble roared from my belly.

I had been wondering why my stomach felt so tight earlier, but now a staggering wave of hunger swept over me like a tsunami, twisting my gut into knots.

Now that I think about it, I hadn't eaten anything for nearly two days back in my past life because of that damn paper.

On top of that, having my body rebuilt into a muscular powerhouse through the goddess's blessing seemed to have sent my basal metabolic rate through the roof; the sheer starvation I felt defied imagination.

"A-Ah! H-Hero! You need to eat first!"

Beatrice, who had been timidly walking on eggshells from the corner of the bed, reacted instantly to the growl and clapped her hands together—smack! Color returned to her cheeks in a flash, radiating palpable relief at having dodged a bullet.

"If you f-force yourself to practice the goddess's doctrines like this, you might collapse! The books always said that replenishing your stamina before the main event is the most important step!"

She wasn't wrong. Yellow spots were already dancing across my vision. Perhaps all the blood meant for my lower half had rushed straight to my stomach, because even my rampant erection was steadily subsiding. If I forced myself to copulate like this, I wouldn't die of coital exhaustion—I'd die of sheer malnutrition in a ditch somewhere.

"...Yeah, food definitely comes first."

The second my permission left my lips, she scrambled off the bed and hastily pulled up her disheveled robes.

"A-As it happens, the restaurant on the first floor of this inn makes amazing meat dishes! In particular, the charcoal-grilled thick-cut meat over the brazier is a masterpiece, and they even have grilled eel rice bowls glazed in savory sauce! I'll go have them send up a special feast right away!"

"Sure, please do. We have money for food, right?"

"...We do, technically."

"...Why the hesitation?"

At my suspicious glare, the Saintess fidgeted and scratched her head.

"We have some, but... it's not exactly what you'd call plenty?"

"...What?"

What was that supposed to mean? Having just been summoned to another world, I was naturally dead broke. All I owned was a basic longsword cast aside on the floor and a set of crude everyday clothes. Even those had been forcibly dressed onto me while I was knocked out cold right after the summoning.

Still, shouldn't the Saintess who summoned me have some coin? The flock of high priests who had taken part in the ritual had already dumped us in this town and vanished into thin air.

"Wait, in stories like this, doesn't the kingdom or the church shower the summoned hero with a hefty starting settlement fund?"

To my incredulous question, she sighed heavily and answered:

"Well... normally, an organization called the Crusade Council handles it and provides full financial backing to summoned heroes."

"Then why aren't they giving it to us?"

"It's just that the previous ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heroes from our order... um, caused so many colorful incidents beyond imagination. They ended up permanently blacklisted by the council higher-ups, so starting from this generation, our financial aid was completely cut off... Ahaha..."

Crusade Council or whatever—I had never heard of them in my life, but in short, past heroes had raised so much hell that we were blacklisted under joint liability.

The funding had been cut.

To think I would taste that nightmare of grant money drying up again—the very horror that had haunted me throughout graduate school—in an entirely different world.

"So the bottom line is, we didn't get a single copper?"

"Yes. We are completely penniless."

"...Then how did we afford this inn room right now?"

"I scraped together the last of my pocket money to barely cover it."

"And what's left after that meal you just offered?"

"Nothing, of course..."

"Aren't you... a Saintess? What about a dignity allowance, an expense account, or any ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠savings?"

"...Our order tends to view worldly desires other than lust as taboo, so we don't really hoard worldly wealth, per se?"

"In other words, you never saved a dime."

"Hmph, it's unfair to lecture me like that... Actually, that gear and clothing you took off ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over there was bought with the last scrap of my own personal savings."

"..."

It seemed we had a realistic problem far more urgent than sex right now.

Massaging my throbbing temples, I asked:

"You explained it before we reached the inn, didn't you? That summoned heroes usually register at the Adventurer's Guild first."

"Yes..."

"And once we join the Adventurer's Guild, we can take on quests and earn money immediately."

"That's right."

"Then that's what we have to do first. We can't starve to death in the streets... We won't even have a place to sleep tomorrow at this rate."

"True..."

Grumuuuuumble.

"...Haaah. Let's eat first and think later."