Clara Fauxbright, an angel in disguise and head of the church

After finishing her latest sermon and giving confession, the high priestess, Clara Fauxbright, left the church and descended the white marble stairs leading down from the chapel. The people were bustling across the town square, chattering in makeshift clumps; this was the most animated she'd seen the city of Merridan in quite some time, as though preparing for some sort of festival. Her church's manuals had been meant as a secret, their contents and intent not to be shared except in the darkness of secrecy, perhaps under the cover of night. Instead... they'd become a matter of public rumor in the course of a single day.

The priestess' pale face glowed with shame as she watched a group of her nuns walk across the courtyard, only to be stopped by a similar sized group of young, male townspeople. The smiles on the faces of all those involved were... unbecoming of followers of Geod, who she'd always believed frowned upon public lewdness.

Of course, it wasn't the lewdness that bothered her. Instead, it was the knowledge she was relying on all of her followers to take the onus upon themselves, while she herself continued offering sermons, shutting herself inside her office, and conducting business as usual.

There were only a small handful of people who realized that Clara was an angel and that her pendant stifled some elements of her appearance... her halo and wings both vanished while she wore it. They could never put together that due to her angelic powers, her long lineage was all a single person: herself, maintaining the same ageless appearance of a lady in her upper twenties for countless years, even before she'd come to serve at Merridan. Her golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, massive bosom, and wide, child-bearing (but never before having born child) hips were wasted on a woman as prudish woman as herself, it had often been whispered, but they were also ageless. The priestess was a source of inspiration for all of the faithful... and a fantasy target for much of their private masturbation.

She was vaguely aware of the way she was viewed, of course. No matter how many layers of robes she wore, how high she wore her neck, how modest the hems, how gently she walked to avoid the rocking of her breasts, how professionally she spoke to avoid leading people on... she could always tell from their stares what they'd been thinking. Even now, the eyes of the people were expectant, as men watched her like wolves, waiting for her to give the offer they'd all been waiting on.

Clara knew that she, herself, was one of the finest trump cards that the church had yet to play in its quest to win over the populous.

Besides the difficult task of psyching herself up, she knew there was one other question that had to be addressed... how should she get started on this, her first ever sexual exploit? "I cannot deploy myself recklessly... that's right. I'm not stalling," she convinced herself, wearing a troubled frown as her ordinarily composed face grew red around its cheeks and collar. "Ah... Geod... Guide and forgive me," she prayed, clasping both hands at her lap and trying to avoid people's stares.