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[Ruination System Activation: Third Mission]
Objective:
Commit sexual activity with your worshipper for the first time to increase rating!
Reward:
Completion of this task will grant you 200 Ruination Points (RN)!
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'Wait... by doing it with my worshippers, I can raise my Ruination Points and worship rating? This is, like, peak cult leader behavior. But hey, who am I to complain? Perks are perks.'
Serafine cleared her throat and immediately threw on her best innocent look. "I-I mean, what? I don't know what you're talking about…" She even added a shy flutter of her lashes for good measure.
But the woman was clearly not buying it. Instead, she reached out, her delicate fingers brushing against Serafine's hand before wrapping around it. Her touch was hesitant but longing, like someone who hadn't held onto something or someone for far too long. Her eyes looked starved for affection, admiration… something. Serafine couldn't tell if this was heartbreaking or just a little awkward.
"Do you not recognize me?" she asked, testing the waters. Was this woman onto her? Did she see through the mask earlier? It wouldn't be the first time someone had managed to sniff out her saintly or fake saintly identity.
"Recognize you? How?"
Serafine's lips pursed as she scrambled for an excuse. "Well, anyone who saw my face would immediately think I was the saintess… or, well, the fake saintess."
"Oh, that? To be honest, I haven't seen her. Never cared to. I don't really bother with the church stuff."
"Wait, seriously?" There was a pause. "You don't care about the saintess? Not even a little?"
"Not really. Aurelia never answered my prayer to bear a child. You see, that was what my husband wanted," she reminisced, her eyes distant as she looked at their joined hands. "But then he found out that I'm infertile. He always talked about legacy and having a son to continue his name. I wanted to support him as his wife, and to be honest, all I've ever known is how to be a wife... In spite it all, no one helped me or looked at me."
Now that was a curveball. In her experience, people like this - gentle, timid, and downtrodden - always clung to some higher power in their darkest moments. Faith was usually their coping mechanism. But this woman? She seemed to have skipped the religion aisle entirely.
"Then… what do you turn to when things get rough?"
The woman smiled softly, her fingers tightening around Serafine's. "I endure. What else is there to do?"
"Well," Serafine smiled shyly, "I'm looking at you right now."
"Me?" Mariella let out a light, self-deprecating laugh, waving a hand as if to brush off the notion. "Oh, please. I'm quite plain. A lady like you deserves someone proper, you know? Maybe even a prince."
At that thought, Serafine's inner monologue screeched to a halt. Oh, hell no. Not the prince. Anyone but that guy. She mentally gagged at the idea.
"How old even are you?" she asked, quickly diverting the topic.
"Thirty-six," Mariella replied with a small sigh. "I'm old now, aren't I? Expired, as they say, because I have no child."
Expired? Not even close. Her plump, rosy lips alone were enough to make Serafine internally scream. 'Do people in this world not own mirrors?!' Yes, Mariella had an air of exhaustion about her, but it added to her charm. A kind of soft, sleepy beauty that paired perfectly with her warm brown hair, tied up in a casual bun, and that ridiculously alluring figure.
"Even better."
"H-Huh?" Mariella blinked in surprise. "How old are you, then?"
"Nineteen."
"Nineteen? I'm old enough to be your aunt!"
"Even more better," Serafine said, breaking into a laugh before adopting her signature faux-innocent look. She reached out and took Mariella's hand, her touch gentle yet purposeful. "Listen, Mariella. There's so much more to you than these norms. You don't need a god as much as you don't need a lover to validate you. This time, let yourself validate you. This time, ask yourself who you actually are."
The older woman's eyes were wide open, and sparkles practically erupted in them like fireworks. She had always longed to hear those words. Words that made her feel like more than a title, more than someone's wife or someone's something. All her life, she'd been stuck as a background character in her own story, fulfilling roles for others and never once asking herself, What about me?
Currently, she was staring at the bold, ridiculously charming young woman who seemed to see right through her. Her chest fluttered, warmth blooming in a way she hadn't felt in years. Without hesitation, she leaned down and, in a single decisive moment, captured Serafine's lips in a kiss.
'Wait. What. What. WHAT?!' She could feel their lips. It was so warm and pillowy, making her melt.
Still, she didn't pull away. She was too busy processing the fact that she, Serafine the fake saintess, had just been kissed by a gorgeous older woman with watermelons that deserved their own shrine.
As they pulled away, they looked quite nervous. "I... I've never done it with a woman before."
"So have I," Serafine lied. "We can just... take it slowly... or maybe, you can just do what you feel."
"What I feel?"
Mariella, in a sudden burst of daring, cast off the confines of her gown. The silken fabric slithered down her lush curves like a river of moonlight, baring the sculpted contours of her body to Serafine's flustered gaze.
Her ample bosom heaved with each anticipatory breath, the rosy peaks of her nipples just peeking out from behind a tangle of raven tresses.
Her belly flowed along with the dramatic flare of her hips, a symphony of womanly curves that begged to be caressed and claimed.
The long, sinuous lines of her thighs, marbled with the play of muscle and sinew, seemed to go on for miles before disappearing between the petals of her womanhood.
"How about this?"