The Black Knight Swore to the Blind Saintess

I pulled up my skill window.

Both of the new skills had traits attached to them.

How do I check the traits?

The moment I thought that, the trait window popped open.

Typically unhelpful descriptions.

It would've been nice if they told me how holy, exactly, or what kind of effects the elixir actually had.

A holy conditioning cock.

Pleasure-semen elixir.

So basically, my cum acted as an elixir and awakened Rose. And it seems I passed some holiness onto her, too.

I had no idea where I'd use a holy cock, but the elixir semen was a pretty solid trait.

Apparently Rhea had been moved by the love Rose and I had shown each other.

Unhelpful descriptions aside.

Didn't matter. I could always just test it in practice, couldn't I?

At some point, a blue dawn had broken outside the window.

Rose lay draped over me, using my body as her bed. When I rocked my hips, gripping her thighs and spreading them apart, my bent shaft slid back and forth deep inside her.

Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.

Rose's breasts, her pink nipples standing stiff and erect, wobbled like pudding.

"Ian... I'm at my limit now. Haah... haaagh."

"Yeah. Last one for me too."

Slap slap slap slap—

"Hnnnghaaaah♥"

"I'm coming, Saintess."

"Hnngh!"

The giant cock buried to the hilt in her tight flesh pulsed like a living monster.

Throb! Throbb-throbb-throbb! Throb! Throbb!

Tenth load of the night.

Rose's body gave off a faint, ethereal glow once again.

Ten loads for one level. Not a bad exchange rate.

Her pussy was stuffed absolutely full of semen. When I pulled my still-spasming cock out, it twitched like a busted hose and sprayed rope after rope of cum across her belly.

She writhed in my arms, her back arching as she convulsed.

"Ian... ahh... hnngh... ahhn... aahhn..."

A massive flood of semen gushed out of her gaping hole in thick, continuous streams—and in time with her moans, a clear fountain of squirt shot straight up into the air.

Hisssssss— sssk sssk sssk—

"Who said our Rose isn't a real saint? She squirts holy water this much."

"Mmmmh... Ian... aahhn♥"

When the climax finally subsided, the room fell quiet for a moment.

"Haah... haah..."

"Haaah... haaah..."

Our ragged breathing slowly settled into the pale blue light of dawn.

"Ian... you gave me some kind of power, didn't you."

"Yeah. Seems like it."

Rose snuggled into my chest. Exhausted, we cuddled together in the bed, savoring the warmth.

Toward daybreak, she saw me out through the ring's portal.

I breathed in the pre-dawn air on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my way home.

When I got there, for some reason, Eve was asleep in my bed.

I lay down beside her, pulled her into my arms, and let the drowsiness wash over me.

That afternoon, word spread through the capital that Saintess Emilia Rosebloom had raised a paralyzed beggar to his feet in the plaza.

A few days later.

A drowsy lunch hour. I was sitting at the register zoning out when I noticed Eve sticking handwritten reviews onto the products.

"Eve. Come here a second."

"Yes, Boss."

She scurried over. I patted my thigh twice.

Eve eyed me with open suspicion.

"You want me to sit on your lap so you can blame it on me when you get hard, don't you? So you can drag me up to the second floor."

"And if I do?"

She planted a hand on her hip.

"No way. I'm not your flesh-and-blood toy, and I'm not here to service that kind of thing."

Underboob, a womb tattoo, black stockings squeezing tight around those firm thighs beneath her skirt—and on top of all that, a staggering beauty who happened to be the imperial princess?

How the hell was I supposed to hold back?

"Fine. Whatever. If Eve says no, I can't exactly force you."

"R-right. My body isn't the Boss's plaything, after all."

I muttered to the empty air, just loud enough.

"Ah, right. When customers come in, I should have Eve give me a blowjob right in front of them."

I had absolutely no intention of doing so, of course.

Eve, who'd been about to turn away, froze solid.

"Boss? What is that supposed to mean?"

"We agreed you'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pretend to be my flesh-and-blood toy whenever other people are around, remember?"

"That's not what I agreed to it FOR. God, seriously."

Wearing the expression of someone who'd officially lost the argument, Eve clip-clopped over and settled onto my thigh.

"There. Happy now?"

Just her scent alone had me already hardening beneath her. I hiked up her underboob crop top, then peeled off her nipple patches.

I pinched both nipples between my fingers like little tweezers and gave them a light rub.

"Ahhn♥"

Flush bloomed across the face that had been scowling at me seconds ago.

"Eve. Kiss me."

Eve glanced toward the shop's front door.

"Boss. The door's open. What if a customer walks in?"

"Wouldn't that be a good thing? It'd prove beyond doubt that you're my flesh-and-blood toy."

"I am NOT your flesh-and-blood toy."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Kiss me."

"Unbelievable."

When I pressed my lips to hers, Eve accepted my tongue like she'd been waiting for it all along. In the quiet shop, the only sound was the wet, filthy mingling of our tongues and saliva being stirred together.

Under my fingertips, the nipples I'd been toying with gradually stiffened.

A long strand of saliva stretched and drooped between our tongues.

"Haah..."

Eve gulped down the saliva, her face flushed scarlet. The little heart ♡ on her womb tattoo had turned a vivid pink.

The moment her eyes met mine, she looked away. I tugged her crop top back down—though the thin fabric did nothing to hide the outline of her huge breasts and her stiff, protruding nipples.

"Go take care of the counter."

"Huh?"

"I just wanted to kiss you. Didn't seem like you particularly wanted anything."

Eve forced a smile. "Ahaha. I see. Well, that works out. Customers will be showing up soon anyway."

So there she was, wriggling on my thigh, hesitating to get up—when the shop door jingled open.

Eve shot to her feet and frantically pressed her fingers down over the nipples jutting out prominently against her clothes.

The woman who walked in was a strikingly beautiful elf.

Whoa.

A face that drew admiration without even trying. Her glasses seemed to be the only thing forcibly suppressing that characteristic, mystical elven allure. She looked to be about twenty, though with elves you could never really tell age.

She browsed the displayed merchandise slowly, taking her time, while Eve—still with a pink heart ♡ glowing above her lower belly—quietly slipped off to the side and pressed fresh nipple patches back on.

After a long look around the shop, the customer approached the register where I sat.

"Excuse me. Would you happen to be the owner of this establishment?"

Someone asking that politely was no ordinary customer. I scrambled halfway to my feet.

"That's correct."

The woman produced a business card from inside her coat and handed it to me.

"My name is Rene Pendleton. I run a modest little company called Elf Toy."

What was this about?

Well, she said she was a fellow business owner, so I bowed with spinal-reflex speed.

"Ah, my apologies—pleasure to meet you. I'm Ian Castollini."

She cut straight to the point.

"I'm told you've been spreading false claims that our products are poorly made. So I came to see for myself—and it's true."

The owner of Elf Toy, Rene, pushed up her glasses.

"I'm sorry—our shop?"

Eve, who'd been watching from the side, stepped forward.

"Boss, we've promoted Elf Toy products plenty, but we've never spread any false claims about them—"

"Then what do you call THAT?"

Rene jabbed her chin toward the center of the shop, where an onahole sat displayed inside a glass case like a museum exhibit.

It was the elf lower-body onahole I'd punctured straight through with my cock a while back.

Boss, put this on display! People will come just to see it!

Eve had pestered me so relentlessly about it that I'd finally given in and displayed it exactly as she wanted.

As Rene walked toward the display, Eve and I trailed after her, utterly baffled.

Inside the glass case, the intact onahole and the one I'd torn through sat side by side, with Eve's handwritten review posted beneath them:

Huh? None of that's untrue, though?

I said to Rene, "Ma'am, there's nothing false in this review. It's true that the leg section has poor durability—and as you can see, it really did get punctured through the inside while I was using it."

I pointed at the torn opening on the upper part of the lower-body onahole.

Rene Pendleton crossed her arms.

"We've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠received countless reviews of our products, and not once—NOT ONCE—has anyone ever torn through the interior like this."

So she was convinced it was fabricated.

"Ma'am, you're welcome to believe it's a fake, but we didn't tamper with anything. And for what it's worth, this review isn't hurting you—sales of the product have actually gone UP because of it. Customers keep buying it so they can try to punch through it themselves. It's become a running challenge among enthusiasts."

Rene shook her head.

"Even so, I did not pour my heart into crafting that product only to have it sold as a party trick. Do you have any idea how much care went into making it...?"

So she had a genuine artisan's pride, then.

"If you'd like, I'll take the review down. Though I have to say, I'm disappointed you seem so unwilling to trust us."

Rene jabbed her chin at the punctured onahole.

"You're claiming THIS is genuine? You're serious?"

"I can prove it, if you'd like."

"I'm sorry?"

"I can demonstrate the puncturing, right in front of you."

"..."

She seemed to have run out of words.

"However, there is one condition. You watch the demonstration, and once it's proven we were telling the truth—you'll pay for the onahole used in it."

"Well, that much is—no, no. Hold on. Why would I even watch that in the first place?!"

She seemed a bit scatterbrained for an artisan.

"And since you were so confident in your product—confident enough to treat us as fraudsters—"

"?"

"If I really do punch through it, you'll have to sleep with me. Once."

"W-wh-what did you just say?"

Rene Pendleton stared at me, utterly dumbfounded.

"As you saw in the review, I've never actually been with an elf. I'd simply like to know the difference between the real thing and the onahole."