Svetlana

Svetlana appeared in the countryside of one of Zalessia's more rural provinces. Bela Province had long been a breadbasket of Zalessia, providing much of the country's grain. It was full of small villages and large towns, but very little in the way of proper cities. As the province was located in central Zalessia, far from the country's borders, there wasn't much in the way of a military presence. Svetlana's destination was a small local church of a village whose name she couldn't remember. Normal service hours were over, but she knew the object of her search would be there. He was always there around this time, cleaning, securing donations, reading, or making himself available for confession. For some time that was how she had spoken to him, as much for the love of mystery it created as the fact he would not tell anyone what she had said during them. This time was different. She had set the groundwork in place, but now was the time for a face to face meeting.

"Nikolai? Are you here?" She asked in a voice almost akin to music.

"Yes, can I help you, Sister?"

Svetlana's heart nearly skipped a bit in anticipation when she saw the handsome young priest come from the back of the chapel. She instantly felt a surge of satisfaction when she saw him stare at her. Her dress little to the imagination, in particular her large, natural bust that she was very, very proud of. She raised her chest a bit, showcasing even more of her cleavage to his gaze. "I can think of many ways you could help me, Father."

Nikolai managed to tear his gaze from the blonde woman's..admittedly incredible bosom. "Madam..that dress is hardly appropriate,!" He scolded, though some of the force he may have used was diminished by shock. "Nor is such a familiar tone-wait." The gears were turning in his mind as he recognized her voice. "Wait..that voice. You are the one who-." he stopped, his respect for the rules of confession preventing him from saying it aloud for fear someone might arrive and overhear.

"The one who told you tales of lascivious trysts? The one who challenged your arguments with logic and sense? Or my personal favorite: The one who made no secret of her desire to show you the most intimate of carnal pleasures?" Svetlana spoke with a tone of mischievous sensuality, her blue eyes seeming to sparkle.

Nikolai swallowed hard. Now he knew for certain that this voluptuous woman was the same one who had spoken to him during several confessions. She told him stories of such unbridled hedonistic sin. He heard confessions of infidelity, desire for someone not one's spouse, forbidden desires, etc, but never had heard such vividly described acts. Not only that, but she wasn't confessing the acts as sin. Rather, she was proudly sharing stories of acts that she valued and cherished in some perverted manner. He had attempted to convince her the error of these beliefs, using both words of faith and logical arguments. To his surprise he found that she was not some wanton whore, but combated everything he said with equally challenging comebacks. More than once had to consider how he would respond. While he could not tell anyone exactly what she had said, hid did confess his own sin to a fellow priest. That he had enjoyed verbally going back and forth with her. That her passion and wit stimulated him. What he did not admit however was that there was a part of him that enjoyed her recounting her experiences. A part of him that he fought to suppress. This was made even more difficult when she confessed that she liked him, and wanted him to share her bed and experience such decadent bliss with her. At that point he had demanded she leave, but the thought was there, and it would not go away. He hadn't even known what the woman looked like, but through speaking alone she had captivated him in a deeply carnal way. Now she stood before him, revealing herself as a woman whose beauty and form seemed like something out of a tall tale, not someone who actually existed.

"Sister, please-"

"Svetlana."

"What?"

"My name is Svetlana. I would like to hear the way it would roll off your tongue," she said, her icy blue eyes seeming to burn their way inside him.

He knew he shouldn't, but there was undoubtedly..something, between them that had formed during those many nights of heated dialogue. "Svetlana, this-"

"Stop!" Her voice was firm, but not malicious. She closed her eyes and smiled. "I love the way my name sounds when you say it. It makes me want to wring it from your lips as you writhe under me. Or on top of me? Or perhaps you fancy the sight of a woman's rear when you-"

"Svetlana, please!" Nikolai begged. "I cannot! This..I cannot be what you want me to be! I took an oath. I believe in the principles I swore to uphold!"

She looked at him with surprising empathy. "I believe you, but your tone betrays your doubt."

"No, I-"

"Shh." Suddenly she was right in front of him, gently placing two fingers on his lips. "You believe in the principles, but you've seen the hypocrisy often committed by your own brothers. If they stray so far from what is taught, how much legitimacy do those words truly have? Deep down, you suspect that it was men who wrote such words. Petty men who realized their own unworthiness and sought to design a means to keep their followers in check so that only the true benefits the world has to offer are theirs alone. Am I wrong, Nikolai?"

How could she read him so well? Had she gauged so much about him from their talks? "No..you are not, but..you do not believe so either. You are using the corruption of select men to further your own design."

Rather than be offended or insult, Svetlana seemed even more pleased than before. "You become more and more desirable the more you prove yourself above the plebs of this world. You are correct in that I don't think that was what happened, but I do believe for a fact that many of the Church's hierarchy are indeed using their power to reserve special rights for themselves. Your principles are not in themselves wrong, Nikolai, but the Church does not deserve a man like you," she said earnestly, in her own way believing it.

"And you believe that you do?" He ventured.

She smiled, though this time not mischievous or playful, but of a confident one based not on arrogance but on a keen sense of her own self-worth. "I do. I've been looking for a man like you for some time. We compliment each other. There is so much I can teach you if you let me," she says this last part with her lips hovering just a few inches from his, her bosom barely touching his chest. "Tell me you didn't feel a connection between us during those long nights speaking to each other, and I will go and never trouble you again. You have my word."