The altruistic Italliete, who has no ulterior motives (sex, lesbian)

Ave could probably waste all day worrying, fretting, and whispering "oh dear" and still have no answer for Cherubin come nightfall, let alone a solid plan of how to take the church in this direction. Eva, on the other hand, had all of the desire to do this, but none of the approval from her sister-- it was likely to form a rift between the two of them if left to fester.

Therefore, Italliete, ever the watchful guardian angel of St. Sleeper, saw a need to step in. The church needed to be saved and they needed a solid plan to do it. She'd always been a quick thinker-- it had served her well during her days as a warrior.

... She'd also always been a bit of an opportunist, when the situation presented itself. That had served her well during her sell-sword days, but those were many years back.

"Ave, you're going to grind that cross down to gold shavings if you keep squeezing it so hard," she warned the poor nun. "Fret not-- I have already come up with an idea to get us on track with the church's expectations."

"Oh, Ms. Italliete, I do appreciate it, but I simply can't bend to these odd new edicts. I-I'm not much of an... erm... bendy person," Ave responded, rubbing one arm sheepishly as she thought of the hard work that was kneeling in her garden. It sounded like this work was a lot more demanding on the knees. "I truly cannot imagine myself servicing the town's men the way the honorable acting high priest is suggesting."

"Nor must you. The town's men are many and rowdy, tis true, but all they really want is a spectacle. I believe we can provide that without running any risk of having a penis come between you and your devotion to Geod, if that's what you're worried about."

"M-Must you say that word in church?!" Ave babbled, looking left and right as though worried someone might have heard.

"Trust me. What I have in mind is tasteful and in the spirit of the hard work and devotion you've shown St. Sleeper's Chapel throughout the years. Tis art I'm thinking of, really," the former knight continued with a smile, now jumping down from her perch with a heavy thud of her work boots against the hardwood floor. She was easily a head taller than either of the other sister's when she stood to her full height, a difference in stature which perhaps served her well in her attempt at persuasion. She winked one eye and crossed her arms. "I propose we hold a play on the morrow. A simple affair: a retelling of the glorious history of the noble Saint Sleeper himself! If you're worried about anyone overstepping their place during the performance, don't be: there isn't a man in town I couldn't headlock into submission, even if they're armed."

"Oh! Well... That does sound promising," Ave admitted, seeming to regain a bit of her usual cheerfulness. That warm smile melted Italliete's heart like an oven every time she saw it. "I do so enjoy teaching others about our history! Do you think that's totally in line with what Mr. Cherubin is requesting, though?"

"Ah, I think it may be. So long as we pick the right passage to reenact, I reckon," Italliete responded, hiding the lower side of her face with the thick glove she wore over one of her massive hands. "I do have a certain one in mind already."

"Art? Plays? What is this, a theater?" Eva questioned, seeming more skeptical than her sister as she approached with lowered eyebrows. "You recognize that our church's livelihood is as stake here, don't you? I'm not going to leave everything in your hands just because you're hot for my sist-"

The glove that had been covering Italliete's mouth now flew over Eva's, causing her to go momentarily cross-eyed with an indignant expression.

"Hot with passion for your sister's church, you mean!" the painter laughed heartily, not wanting to let her private reason for all of this spill out. "There will be a lot of money involved and you will have a part to play-- as well as a cut."

That seemed to calm Eva down. She backed up a bit to escape the muscle-woman's grasp, then gave a wry smile. "Okay. You've got my attention. I hate hard work anyway-- if you're willing to do the tough stuff, like the stage design, then I'll be happy to help with the acting," she agreed, now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her sister, who was nodding eagerly.

"Then I'd better go tell that Cherub guy what we're doing. First, though, I'll write down some stage directions. I need you two to study over them-- we aren't going to have a lot of time, with only one night to practice."

The regulars showed up to the church the next morning, bright and early, for their daily sermon. Little did they realize that, for once, they were competing for the best spaces in the house. Front row seats were strangely hard to come by and many of those who'd ordinarily be there were shunted to the back rows or to standing room only. Ironically, word of today's events had traveled less thoroughly around Headrest than it had out of town, as the latter was handled by the acting high priest Cherubin himself, meaning there were now tourists as far as the eye could see. They were easy to pick out, because they were mostly young, wealthy people or the bodyguards of such. It was rare for anyone in Headrest to so much as sniff a noble and now they were out in droves.

None of those from the town quite knew what to expect from this, although the out-of-towners had a pretty good idea. As far as any locals could recall, there were no actors or even patrons of the arts in Headrest. The church had a pretty nice mural coming along, but that was the closest this place got to any kind of celebration of culture. Now, the church was hosting "Fae of the Forest: A Celebration of the History of St. Sleeper."

A barrel-chested man in the audience rubbed two fingers down an especially thick, curled mustache, squinting through his monocle. "Finally! History will be unearthed here and celebrated. The tales of Saint Sleeper have slept too long, I say. Goodness knows the boonies could benefit from a dab of proper teaching," he chortled, giving a muted harumph as the locals regarded him with disdain.

Others in the audience had their doubts that anything educational was about to happen, as makeshift curtains were slowly drawn over the windows by monks on loan from the Church of Merridan, giving the chapel an eerie darkness that none of the regulars had seen before. When they finished, there was still one light shining down: a spotlight created on the center of the stage, courtesy of a hole in the shabby old church roof that had gone mostly unnoticed by the congregation for a long, long time. Right now, it provided an artistic effect that everyone involved in the performance hoped would draw attention away from the church's poor state of repair.

Once the monks managed to shush everybody to a state of silence, the first actor finally took the stage. Their appearance was every bit that from the legends of Saint Sleeper, as well as anyone knew them: clad in plate armor from head to toe, with little adornment and astounding weight. A massive broadsword hung from the knight's back. The only hint that this figure was not, in fact, the chapel's namesake knight was the few hints of skin seen through the visor, revealing a woman's dark-skinned face instead of a bearded white man's.

"Tis I, Ronald Sleeper. Having just bested the hated cyclops horde, but becoming detached from my unit in the process, I returned from the front-lines by way of the fae forest."

A few of the educated noblemen in the crowd noticed now what they ought to have suspected in the first place: this was not a real play, or at least, not one by any accredited writer or any sort of training. It didn't matter to many of them. With the exception of a handful, most of them hadn't come for that sort of thing regardless. They were willing to forgive the stilted delivery and embarrassingly expository writing for the sake of seeing what they came here for.

Even the most optimistic of chapel visitors began to grow weary as the former knight went on and on about his history, his exploits, and how he found his way through the fae forest without getting lost by using the markings left by the ancient peoples of the woods, all told with a seeming enthusiasm for teaching but little to none for acting nor writing, presenting details in a random hodgepodge. They were just about ready to throw in the towel and walk out, despite the high priest's hand in sponsoring this play, when finally, the would-be Ronald Sleeper made the discovery they'd been waiting for.

"And lo, about the enchanted spring, there fluttered the fairies to receive me into their gracious care. With gratitude for my efforts in driving back the demons from their forest, they treated me with their healing magic."

Two actors came out from either side of the backstage, or what would ordinarily be a largely unused choir area to those familiar with the church's layout. Humans hadn't had a lot of interactions with fairies-- they were regarded as gentle creatures, but they preferred to keep to themselves and were very good at doing so. The one consistent that everyone agreed on, however, was that they were small, no larger than one's fist at maximum size.

These fairies did not meet that description. Both of the fairies were blond, human-sized woman, one a bit chubby and the other very slender, but ultimately many times larger than a fairy ought to be. To complete some semblance of the look, they were garbed in what could generously be thought of as fairy apparel: each with a classic but shameless mythological fairy costume consisting of only autumnal leaves over key areas of their body, those being above the breasts and between the legs. The coverage was so little that one might wonder if the leaves were meant to fit actually hand-sized fairies.

The left-most fairy, the soft-bodied one, was beet red in the face with her thick thighs quivering and trembling lips. Whatever line she was supposed to introduce herself with seemed to have slipped her entirely, as she constantly fought the urge to bring her hands up and cover her breasts, or twist her legs to better hide her sex. A rather generous bush could be seen between her legs, not fully hidden behind the leaf she wore for modesty.

The right-most fairy was at the other end of the spectrum, getting a little too into her indecent apparel. She made a show of spinning around to show the audience that, indeed, her bottom was totally uncovered, before tossing her hair and posing with her chest thrust out and a sultry wink. She didn't have the volume the other fairy did, but she was definitely the younger and more confident of the two. "Well met, traveler! It will be our pleasure to bathe you in our enchanted spring," the younger fairy greeted the legendary knight. "And it will be all the more our pleasure to disrobe you. I am Thine, the princess of the fairies. And across from me is..."

The other fairy trembled a while longer, before starting to attention with a gasp. "A-A-Ave! Mother Ave of Saint Sleeper's Chapel. I mean... Your chapel, sir! I mean... No, no chapel, no Ave! I-I am... M-M-Minne, second in the line of this forest's fairy r-royalty... W-We'll set aside your armor, good knight Italliete... I mean, St. Sleeper!"

"Very well, but I shall remind you, I am not yet known as a saint," the knight actor joked, drawing a laugh in good humor from the audience. Their spirits seemed to have perked up tremendously at the sight of two naked blond nuns, as most people's would. Italliete's spirits were especially high-- she'd never seen so much as Mother Ave's ankles since she'd come to this church and become smitten with her. Now, she was seeing basically all there was to see-- the bashful nun was nearly as naked as her name-day, apart from the poor excuse for fairy clothing.

She didn't really care that she was joining them in that regard. The two fairies worked to set aside St. Sleeper's armor piece by piece, starting with the helmet, but then progressing somewhat randomly as Ave fell far behind her sister Eva in pace. The older sister was struggling to get off one of the gauntlets when Eva moved in to help her, freeing their gallant knight from the last of his cannery.

Italiette stood with her body nearly bared now, save for just a rough gray undershirt and short pants. She was pretty much the opposite of the would-be fairies, with small scars left from old battle across her flesh and rigorously trained muscles that never faded. She held her fists to her side, trying not to let her enthusiasm show too much on her face as Mother Ave shamelessly counted her six pack with undeniable curiosity. "Now I shall join the two of you in the bath."

"Not just yet, soldier. There is more to reveal," Eva cooed, resting her hands upon Italiette's chest and gently easing her down to the floor in a kneeling position. Once the two were seated there, she straddled the woman's legs and hooked her hands into the shorts. "These will not be permitted in our sacred spring."

At this point, the many in attendance clamored for a better viewing position. Those in the back now wrestled their way to the front, realizing why those seats had filled up so quickly. Those in the back would have a hard time seeing the actors who'd moved to the floor, instead left with nothing to look at but the blankly staring Ave, who was not so much acting as trying to keep herself from fainting with embarrassment.

"Legend holds it," Italliete continued, speaking in a plain voice even as the younger of the two sister slowly shimmied the pants down her legs, "that St. Sleeper was rejuvenated in body and in spirit by the fairy's royal line. He lay with them, as much as a man his size can lay with two delicate fairies, and enjoyed their passions."

Ave jumped at the word "passions." Apparently, this was a code word from their practice to start... something. With a near audible gulp, she knelt down next to her sister, resting shoulder to shoulder with Eva on her hands and knees. It wasn't particularly comfortable as a position, but she was much less worried about that than she was the crowd who were re-angling themselves around the stage to get a better look at her exposed, fleshy buttocks, and probably more besides. "Oh my..." she muttered to herself, watching as people she'd preached to for twenty years argued seniority of church membership as a way to get a prime viewing spot with which to see her asshole.

Just as many were enjoying the view of Eva, widely considered to be the best piece of scenery in the town, as she started to run her tongue shamelessly up the thick, dusky thighs of the town's painter, moving quickly towards her sex. Her body arched in a cat-like way, nimbly repositioning to give everyone a good look while also pushing her own chest down. She wasn't necessarily into women, but she thought that getting Italliete aroused would be good for everyone as far as the performance went. "Mmm... the vanquisher of the cyclopian forces is even bold in flavor. Taste her with me, Minne."

"C-Certainly, Eva, I am just... Ahem... Getting the bathwater to the proper temperature first," she reassured, seeming as if she was watching the audience more than anyone else. Timidly, she extended her tongue, then began to lick at the other leg of the woman before her, running up towards her pussy's lips. "And we'll have you rid of that as well," she continued, gently pushing Italliete's shirt up past her tits-- well-sized, if somewhat lost amidst all her muscle mass. The dark nipples were a new sight to Ave, causing her to blush even more fiercely.

Each of the two crawled higher onto the black woman's body, allowing her to cradle them around the small of their backs while they gently caressed her breasts and belly.

"Heaven... I'm in heaven," Italliete thought to herself, as she stared upon the angels dotting the unfinished mural above her, barely illuminated by the moonlight. Somehow, she'd gone from admiring the church's caretaker from afar, stealing glances as she painted, to now embracing each other in the nude over the course of 24 hours. What else could one call this but a miracle?

Eva began to brazenly lick at the excited tip of the left nipple while massaging down below with two fingers. Ave, for her part, remained much more passive, simply breathing heavily in Italliete's embrace while staring into her face.

"She's so Geod-damned cute!" the painter thought of the chapel's caretaker, unable to stop a stupid smile from coming to her face as she gave the woman's fleshy bottom a gentle squeeze. Her ability to mostly ignore the work the other sister was doing on her was something of an enigma to all onlookers, but most of all, to Eva herself.

"Ignore me for my sister, will you? I'll show you the technique of the royal princess of the fairies, then," she cackled, sliding her way back down. She wickedly extended her tongue once more, flicking it to and for effect, then settled it directly upon the other woman's pussy lips, lapping around the entrance vigorously.

That really did prove harder to ignore. Italliete bucked her head back in surprise as the Eva's tongue came closer and closer to moving past the walls and breaching inside her. "My word. You fairies certainly... know your cunnilingus," she remarked in a breathy voice, now holding one hand atop Eva's head and watching past the peaks of her own breasts.

At this point, the show was nearly impossible to appreciate properly from one's seat. As such, each member of the audience had risen up and now stood on stage with the actors, looking down at them from as respectful a distance as they could-- that is, just far enough so that their faces wouldn't be seen, which would, undoubtedly, spoil the moods of the women involved.

Ave crawled a bit higher up, then surprised Italliete and the audience by locking their lips together in a kiss. This sort of romantic gesture, actually quite innocent, was really the most intense form of love-making she knew, especially with another woman. It seemed only appropriate to bust it out here, as the show moved to its climax.

"Minne?" Italliete questioned, remembering that they hadn't discussed anything like that in their rehearsal.

"W-Was that too much?" Ave questioned, suddenly drawing back and looking frightened.

Italliete drew her back in with one strong arm, re-engaging the kiss as a way of answering. She gently ran her calloused fingers through the hair of each sister, as one ate her down below and the other kissed her tenderly upon the lips. As several in the audience murmured how jealous they were of St. Sleeper-- or of the painter, if they weren't as respectful of the fantasy at play here-- she focused only on the sparkling eyes of the meek chapel caretaker.

Would it be hard for Ave to go back to leading her congregation after this? What would that loss of normalcy due to her? Just the other day, she'd been a nun who likely, as all others in the prior fashion, chose to wear a chastity belt-- who'd never been intimate with a man nor a woman. Now, she'd not only discarded the belt to lay with a woman, but also, she'd done it in front of a full, viewing audience, many of whom were her flock. How would her life be from here forward?

Italliete wanted a passion that could continue off-stage, but there would be time to think about that later. For now, she wanted to enrich the Mother's life in another way. Namely, monetarily. "Ahem, if you all have enjoyed this theatrical presentation," she spoke up, allowing Ave a brief break from making out and trying to ignore the string of spittle dangling like a tightrope between their lips, "please, give generously."

The crowd obliged immediately, grabbing hold of the offering plates from the pews and filling them with gold coins like they'd never been filled before. The full plates clattered around the ladies encouragingly.

Eva licked harder and harder between the legs of the black knight, trying to get more of a reaction out of her, before really pressing her lips up to the entrance and noisily sucking upon it. Finally, Italliete began kicking her legs, and new moisture squirted from below-- the reaction Eva had been waiting for. Reaffirmed in her sexual prowess, she curled her lips into a smile as much as her present position would allow and dug her tongue in deeper.

"Mother Ave... Please, if you would..." Italliete grunted. "Let us complete the imagery of the fairies and St. Sleeper, once held taboo by the church due to its erotic nature."

"O-Oh dear... Don't you believe we've done enough?"

"Allow me to do it. For you, milady."

Blushing, Ave nodded her head slowly, then raised her body up. She gave a sheepish nod to the crowd around her, then positioned herself at Italliete's head. Once she was in place, she began to squat, slowly lowering her rather thick hindquarters down towards the other woman's face. "It is said that... St. Sleeper tasted of the fairies... d-directly..."

With no hesitation at all, the painter lurched her neck forward, beginning to lap at the wet sex of the Mother with her tongue. Her nose buried in the woman's undercarriage, pushing under the leaf holding there and into the softness of her bush, while her tongue eagerly traced the Ave's pussy lips. Her technique was lacking compared to Eva's, but her motivation was second to none. Even once Ave began to squirm and moan, sitting with the full **** of her rather considerable weight, Italliete didn't stop, drinking the pussy juices eagerly and filling the church's acoustics with the sloppy noise of her slurping.

"Oooh! M-Miss Italliete, I don't have the stamina for this sort of thing! I-I'm-- hiiiiiieee!"

Ave's eyes scrunched up into crescents as she began to squirt all over the other woman's face, her legs trembling with the unfamiliar feeling of sexual arousal. Even simple masturbation was relatively foreign to her-- being licked so furiously by another woman had pushed her over the edge almost instantaneously. Worse, Italliete wasn't stopping. "Oh! Oh oh oh ooooh! P-Pleeease stop- guuuooooh!" she moaned, her legs and hips bucking as she released harder and harder, the result of years of repression and sexual back-up.

When she tried to lift her bottom off of Italliete's face, the other woman held her there, cradling both arms around her chubby waist. She ended up falling over on all fours, nearly hitting her sister in the process. The painter was relentless, going after her target with ceaseless passion, until Mother Ave was twitching, powerless to move her legs or do anything, really, besides moan and spray.

It just then hit Eva she'd have to clean all of this up later. She sat back up and clicked her teeth irritably.

The next day, a sermon so ordinary it was almost comedic was held. Mother Ave spoke to her congregation, as well as countless others still in town hoping for a second viewing of Fae of the Forest, wearing her usual motherly smile.

"The valorous St. Sleeper knew that his night of passions was a rare and beautiful thing, so he cherished his time with the fairies. But he knew that it was little more than that-- a midsummer dream. Thus, when the time ended and he went his separate ways, he put the royal fairies from his mind, and renewed his vows in Geod, our creator. Only Geod could guide his blade and protect his body. Remember, in all things, to give thanks to Him. Celebrate not the flesh, but He who creates and protects it."

"Amen," the chorus of somewhat embarrassed regulars chanted in unison. It seemed to everyone assembled that the Mother had effectively brainwashed herself to forget the previous night. It didn't seem like Cherubin was going to have a reliable foothold out here in Headrest after all...

... But at least she had enough money to fix the roof. A certain sweating, black former knight worked from the rooftop, doing her best to switch vocations from painter to carpenter.

It had been a magical night, but all good things had to come to an end. Well, for St. Sleeper they did. As for Italliete, she wasn't so sure.

"Heh heh heh... Mother Ave won't soon forget tongue-service like that. They used to call me the Silver Tongue back in the knight corps," she smiled to herself. "She'll be back for more in no time-- Geod dammit!" The knight dropped her hammer down the stone roof after promptly bashing her thumb. She was no carpenter. "Son of a bitch! But it's all worth it to stick around and do these odd-jobs if it means Ave comes around. Heh heh... Heh..."

Storm-clouds began to gather overhead. Italliete just ignored them, even as raindrops began to fall. Geod had found a purpose for her-- and a little rain wasn't going to stop her.