The Saintess's Submission: Olivia's Forbidden Training Under the Duke's Retinue

The grand ballroom of the Bartford estate was a whirlwind of silk, perfume, and whispered politics, a world Olivia still felt achingly alien within. She clung to the periphery, her simple maid’s uniform a stark contrast to the dazzling gowns around her. Her heart, a frantic bird in her chest, beat not from the opulence, but from the absence of a single, reassuring presence. Leon had been called away on urgent business, a common occurrence these days, leaving her feeling like a precious doll forgotten on a shelf. Her unusual pupils, one a gentle lavender and the other a sky blue, scanned the crowd, not with envy, but with a deep, yearning loneliness. It was in this state of vulnerable longing that they found her.

Three men, members of the Duke’s personal retinue, detached themselves from the shadows near the balcony. They were not nobles; their bearing was too rigid, their gazes too direct. Their leader was a man of imposing stature, his head gleamingly bald under the crystal chandeliers, his face a map of old scars. The two flanking him were equally formidable, one with a sharp, calculating gaze, the other with hands that looked like they could crush stone. They moved with a predatory grace that both terrified and fascinated Olivia. The bald man bowed, a gesture that held no subservience, only a quiet, confident authority. "Miss Olivia," his voice was a low rumble, like distant thunder. "The Duke is concerned. He feels you are… underprepared for the realities of your position as the beloved of his favored knight. We are here to offer… supplementary training."

Before she could form a protest, a wave of dizziness washed over her. The champagne flute she had been nervously sipping from felt suddenly heavy in her hand. Had there been something in it? The world tilted, the music becoming a muffled echo. Strong hands caught her before she could fall, their grip firm yet not unkind. "You seem unwell, miss. Allow us to escort you to a place where you can rest." Their words were polite, but their intention was an iron chain around her will. Helpless, her body betraying her, Olivia could only offer a weak nod as they led her away from the gilded cage of the ballroom, down a series of secluded corridors, and into a private, dimly lit salon reserved for the Duke's most trusted staff.

The door clicked shut, the sound final. The air was thick with the scent of old leather and sandalwood. They laid her down gently on a large, plush divan. "The world of otome games is tough for mobs like us," the bald man said, his voice softening almost to a whisper as he knelt beside her. "But it is even tougher for a saintess who does not know her own power, or how to wield it over men." His words were a strange, twisted comfort. He wasn't threatening her; he was… educating her. His rough, calloused hand brushed a stray strand of hair from her fevered cheek, and a shocking jolt of pleasure-pain shot through her. Her unusual pupils dilated, her breath catching in her throat. This was wrong, so terribly wrong, and yet a part of her, the part that felt abandoned and desperate for connection, leaned into the touch.

"Your innocence is a weapon, little saint," the second man murmured, his fingers deftly, almost reverently, unbuttoning the front of her maid's uniform. The starched white fabric gave way to reveal the soft, creamy skin of her chest, rising and falling with panicked, excited breaths. The third man took her hand, bringing it to his lips, his tongue tracing a line across her palm, making her whimper. The bald leader lowered his head, his mouth finding one of her pert, pink nipples. He suckled gently at first, then with increasing pressure, and a sensation unlike any other exploded within Olivia. It was a deep, pulling ache that coiled in her core, a primitive need that made her back arch off the divan. A thin, sweet bead of milk escaped his lips, a testament to her saintly, unnatural biology. "See?" he growled, lapping at the droplet. "You have gifts you never knew. You are meant to be worshipped, to be consumed."

The last vestiges of her resistance melted away, replaced by a torrent of raw, aching need. She was their sole focus, their sole female, and the intensity of their attention was a drug. They peeled the uniform from her trembling body until she lay bare before them, her skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat under the low light. They were not gentle as they explored her, but they were thorough, their hands and mouths mapping every curve, every secret place, wringing gasps and moans from her lips. The sharp-eyed man guided her head towards his groin, where an impressive erection strained against his trousers. "A saintess should be devout in all her duties," he whispered. Understanding, her face flushed with a mix of shame and fervent curiosity, Olivia opened her mouth.

He was thick and salty, the taste of him overwhelming her senses. She tried to pull back, gagging slightly, but a firm hand on the back of her head held her steady. "Breathe through your nose, little one," the bald man instructed from behind her, his hands kneading her buttocks. "Take him deep. Show your devotion." Tears welled in her mismatched eyes, but she obeyed, relaxing her throat, allowing him to push forward until the head of his cock touched the back of her throat. She deepthroated him, her body convulsing around the invasion, yet a strange sense of power filled her as she felt him shudder and groan above her. This was her training. This was her power.

They repositioned her on her hands and knees, the divan creaking under their combined weight. The air was thick with the sounds of heavy breathing and the slick, wet sounds of their preparations. She felt the blunt, hot head of a cock press against her virgin entrance, slick with her own arousal and their spit. Another pressed insistently against her tight, untouched back door. The third, the bald leader, positioned himself before her, guiding his length back into her willing, well-practiced mouth. This was it. Triple penetration. The ultimate submission. The ultimate lesson. A scream was trapped in her throat, transformed into a muffled, gurgling moan around the cock filling her mouth.

They moved in a brutal, perfect rhythm, a well-coordinated unit claiming their prize. The man at her rear took his time, stretching her anal passage with exquisite, painful slowness before sinking fully into her, the anal intercourse a burning, filling sensation that made her see stars. The one at her front pistoned into her dripping core, each thrust hitting a spot that sent electric shocks through her entire body. The one in her mouth controlled the pace of her breathing, his groans music to her ears. She was utterly filled, utterly possessed, a vessel for their pleasure and her own awakening. The pressure built, a coiling tsunami within her, fed by the dual penetration and the sight of the powerful men unraveling above her.

Their grunts became more frantic, their thrusts losing rhythm and becoming jerky, desperate. With a series of guttural roars that shook the very room, they reached their peak simultaneously. She felt the hot, potent rush of their release inside her, a nakadashi of overwhelming intensity. The one in her depths, the one in her rear, both pulsed, flooding her with their seed. The one in her mouth followed suit, and she swallowed convulsively, taking every last drop of his essence, her body convulsing with her own powerful, shattering orgasm that left her blind and trembling.

They collapsed around her, a sweaty, panting heap of limbs and satisfied flesh. The bald man pulled her against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her in a possessive yet strangely tender embrace. He kissed her forehead, his lips surprisingly soft. "You see, Olivia?" he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with spent passion. "You are not a mob. You are a queen. And a queen must be strong enough to rule all her subjects, in every way." Exhausted, filled, and with a newfound, terrifying understanding of her own latent desires and power, Olivia drifted into a contented sleep, cradled in the arms of her unlikely teachers, her training complete, her world forever changed.