Brightmoore

---/<>/\<>\---

In the space between all places, where time itself dares not tread, there is a town called Brightmoore. It is so close you could walk there, yet the journey would take more days than our universe will ever hold.

Brightmoore is perfect.

The Church maintains the town's flawless equilibrium, wielding a power too absolute to be questioned in service of a will too brutal to resist. Those who surrender to its stringent dogmas and bizarre rituals find freedom from themselves: no needs unmet, no wants unfulfilled.

But those who disobey are banished forever, doomed to become as lost as you or I...

---/<>/\<>\---

(Original artist credit goes to Claire Temple, submitted here with their express permission!)

Virginia squirmed in the plush velvet seat, overwhelmed by the sheer dominance exuded by every single element of the Church Deacon's office. From the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves to the stately fleur-de-lis stained glass windows, it all made the petite young blonde feel even smaller than usual.

"Virginia?" a voice asked, kind yet commanding. "Do I need to repeat the question?"

Across an impossibly polished mahogany desk, a middle-aged brunette sat in a tufted armchair. Virginia gulped as she sized up the chair, every inch as majestic and imposing as the domineering Church Deacon seated within it.

Even her chair is scary!

Virginia thought.

How is a chair scary?

Either the Deacon's interior decorator was thorough to a fault, or the anxious teenager's nerves were playing tricks on her.

"I'm sorry, Deacon," Virginia squeaked. "I wasn't... I wasn't listening. I'm just -- being in here is just a lot, and I keep thinking most people who've been banished were sitting where I'm sitting and --"

The Deacon reached across her desk, and placed a comforting hand on Virginia's wrist. A brief, wet waver in the young girl's hazel eyes suggested it took every ounce of unallocated willpower not to recoil in terror.

"There is no need to worry, Virginia," the Deacon smiled. Her thin, angular lips infused the genuine display of compassion with a hint of menace. "I promise you are safe."

The Deacon had long since made her peace with being feared, especially by Brightmoore High students. But despite rumors to the contrary, she took no pleasure in the ghastly ritual known as the Banishing Excommunication. Rather, she found it profoundly sad whenever a lost soul rejected the Bright One's immaculate truth, leaving her no choice but to banish them from Brightmoore forever.

Fortunately, today called for a much more joyous rite!

"No one is getting banished today," the Deacon said, glancing at the equally agitated young man seated beside Virginia. "In fact, I think what you and Charlie wish to do is incredible. It is a true expression of the Bright One's light. But I need to make sure you both understand the commitment you are making."

The chestnut-haired boy withered under the older woman's gaze, mirroring Virginia's nervous energy. The tiny blonde's fear came as no surprise, since everything seemed to scare her, but the large boy's matching apprehension spoke to the Deacon's immense institutional cachet.

Even seated, Charlie was much taller than either woman. In fact, though he'd never seen the two ladies stand side-by-side, he felt that Virginia easily had a few inches on the Church leader. All the same, he found the staid and somber brunette just as terrifying as Virginia did.

The Deacon looked the two high school students up and down, unsure how best to convey the sanctity of the upcoming ceremony without causing dual nervous breakdowns. Even though they were both 18 and graduating in a few short weeks, Virginia and Charlie still wore the standard Brightmoore High uniforms: button-up white collared shirts, black sweater vests, purple ties, and black skirt or black slacks respectively. Virginia accented her outfit with a matching purple hairband, as allowed by the dress code.

These outfits made it hard for the Deacon to see the two as anything other than scared little children. Still, they were legally of age, and they had asked her to guide them into adulthood. Duty bound her to this task.

"Now, I am going to ask you again, Virginia," the Deacon said, her cold exclamation lancing the girl's panicked heart like an icicle and freezing her in place. "Do you understand the Rite of the Basal Purge?"

Virginia paused to collect herself, fighting back utter disgust at how naive she must look in her stupid little sweater vest with her stupid little purple tie and stupid little purple headband. It was nothing like the Deacon's smart, form-fitting blue blouse, top two buttons undone, accented with elegant necklaces of religious iconography. Plus, the young girl's pleated Brightmoore High midi seemed so juvenile and frilly when contrasted with the sleek, sexy pencil skirt that hugged the older woman's form from hips to knees. And her goofy loafers against the Deacon's provocative black heels? No contest at all.

Worse, the young student's perceived deficiencies extended well beyond wardrobe. Compared to the self-assured Deacon, always fully in command of herself, Virginia felt so unmoored that a single exasperated sigh might send her careening from the office like Church pamphlets in the Sunday breeze. Still, she rose from her seat, clasped her hands together, and answered with forced conviction:

"Yes, Deacon. You are going to purge Charlie of sin, I mean the Sin of Adam, with the sacred oils -- the, um... the Luminous Emollient. And... and with your hands. The... oh, no... Oh, wait! The Somatic Release!"

The Deacon nodded with another sharp smile, well-intentioned in theory, utterly disconcerting in practice.

"Very good, Virginia! And please: Call me Deacon Katherine!"

Virginia looked as though she might faint from the combined rush of correctly answering the Deacon's question and now being on a (somewhat) first-name basis with the spiritual leader!

"Of course, Deacon... Katherine!"

The Deacon turned to Charlie, resting her chin on her hand and scrutinizing the teenager's fit, muscular frame. He had no idea the bounty of pleasure awaiting him. Sexual release of any kind was entirely unfamiliar to him. Masturbation, oral sex, intercourse, and other such depravity led to unequivocal banishment. Even wet dreams required two weeks penance in the Church sanctuary. Charlie had never known the warm, spasmodic delight of orgasm.

But he'd soon learn when Deacon Katherine's expert hands stroked it out of him!

"Now, Charlie," Deacon Katherine said, leaning forward in a way that caused her massive crucifix necklace to scrape against her desk. Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to tease the possibility of cleavage without actually revealing any. "Can you describe for me the Sacrament of Eve?"

Charlie winced, struggling to focus his reeling mind on the narrow spectrum of information required. His brown eyes met Virginia's, silently pleading for aid. Deacon Katherine pulled his attention back with a gently worded prompting at odds with her ruthless blue gaze:

"We both know she is not allowed to help you. Just relax. You can do this. I am sure of it."

Charlie exhaled and mustered the courage to speak:

"Um, right. It's... every day, no... twice a day, at sunrise and sunset. That's when Virginia will purge my sin."

Deacon Katherine pursed her lips. She slid her hand from her chin to her shoulder, less investigative and more disappointed. Somehow, the change made Charlie's stomach sink even lower.

"That is... close, I suppose," Deacon Katherine said. Her head bobbed side-to-side as she weighed the completeness of the answer, shoulder-length auburn hair swishing about to reveal her numerous ceremonial earrings. "But I cannot anoint the two of you Keeper and Kept if you do not use the proper terminology. After all, 'From word comes creed, from creed comes faith.'"

Charlie nodded. His father often closed out breakfast prayers with that mantra. Being just six days over 18, Charlie wasn't fully familiar with the details of the sacrament. He knew that his mother performed it on his father, and his sister-by-keeping performed it on his older brother. They both did it twice daily, in either the secrecy of the family unction parlor or in the Church's inner sanctum during the adults-only Purging Mass.

He'd heard the Sacrament of Eve involved doing, well... something to his penis. It supposedly felt amazing, the only earthy means by which a Son of Adam could truly know the Bright One's blessed touch. Through this holy ritual, a woman's hand transubstantiated into the divine grasp of the Illuminated Savior and brought about a pleasure unequaled in the mortal world. The Church proclaimed it akin to seeing the Goddess Herself.

Charlie resisted the urge to look at Virginia lest Deacon Katherine thought him trying to cheat again. But his yearning to see her bright, delicate face stemmed from a different impulse. The mere thought of Virginia -- with her silky blond hair, her big kind eyes, her soft skin, her cute little schoolgirl outfit that belied the body of a fully developed woman -- doing anything at all to his penis made his insides flutter. And knowing that once they became Keeper and Kept that Virginia would own him, would devote her entire life to purging his sin and saving him from damnation?

Charlie couldn't think of anything he wanted more.

"Charlie?" Deacon Katherine asked, rending him away from his bright and cozy reverie, back to the hollow, lantern-lit office. "I need an answer."

"Right! So sorry Deacon. The, um... the Sacrament of Eve's Protection, that's the morning one. And the Sacrament of Eve's... Reflection. No! No, um... Retrospection! The Sacrament of Eve's Retrospection is performed at sunset each day."

"Very good! And again: Deacon Katherine is fine!"

Virginia breathed a sigh of relief. These adult matters weren't taught at Brightmoore High. Any of-age couple seeking anointment as Keeper and Kept had to study independently: analyzing passages from the Sunday Tome, deciphering written accounts of the Bright One's parables, spending long days and sleepless nights in a studious fervor. Only then would they be called to a Deacon's office to prove their knowledge. Those who passed the exam dared not reveal its contents to those preparing for it. Even mentioning what questions the Deacon might ask could lead to instant banishment.

"I am satisfied," Deacon Katherine said, dimming the lantern behind her. She reached over to a square cart she'd parked by her desk, a wooden stand with a dark maroon cloth draped over it. She lifted the cloth to reveal a silver chalice, several candles, and an elegant glass bottle. "Virginia, would you be so kind as to dim the lights by the door?"

Virginia obeyed, almost by reflex. She dropped the lantern levels so low, she nearly tripped on a patterned rug while returning to her seat.

The Deacon placed the ornate candles on her desk and lit them, one-by-one. She arranged them in a semi-circle, more ceremonial than pragmatic. The procession of blooming flames distorted the already otherworldly room into a surreal patchwork of fickle light and long shadow.

"Let us begin," the Deacon said.

"Already? But, um... Deacon Katherine?"

"Yes, Virginia?"

"We can answer more questions, if it's necessary."

"If I wanted to ask you more questions, I would ask you more questions," Deacon Katherine said, twisting the lid off a bottle that looked like a cross between a glass whiskey decanter and a hand grenade. It popped loudly, and Virginia flinched. "Do you have any questions for me?"

"No, ma'am," Virginia answered, tightrope-walking a line of non-questioning over a chasm of potential banishment. "We studied very hard, is all. Charlie and I read the entire Sunday Tome, several times, plus all the appendices we translated from Old Speech by hand. And the Penumbra Fables, even the non-canonical ones."

Deacon Katherine grinned, but the ebbing candlelight washed away all traces of compassion. What remained was cold and wicked, like the stone statues adorning the Church sanctuary's outer pillars.

Oh, no!

Virginia thought frantically.

I pushed it too much! But that wasn't even a question, not really. Still, it must've been close enough! I'm banished, banished for sure!

"Worry not, my child," Deacon Kate said, placing her hands on the table. The candles flared up, imbuing the faintest glimmer of humanity to her sharp features. "I do not desire you to regurgitate verses or list passage numbers or recite all the Shining Hymns in Old Speech. The point of such rigorous study was that you and your Kept-to-be might come to know our Illuminated Savior, to feel Her beneficence. You must fully understand that Her way is the only way to walk, that Her will is the only will to follow. By all accounts, from your teachers and your parents and so many others, you have done this."

Virginia looked at Charlie. She desired nothing more than to be his Keeper. The thought of purging his sins twice daily, of saving him from damnation, of using her own two tiny hands to usher such a large, breathtakingly attractive man into the Bright One's holy light -- it filled her with a sense of hallowed purpose she'd never before known.

Plus, even though it was a sin, Virginia was very excited to see Charlie's penis!

She'd technically seen several, of course. She'd babysat the neighbor's children during Purging Mass, some of whom were still in diapers. And Brightmoore men were always naked at the receptions held to celebrate new Keepers and their Kept, but law demanded they be purged just prior. She still hadn't seen a grown man's penis during a purging, but the Brightmoore High rumor mill suggested male genitalia acquired some scandalous attribute for the duration. Unfortunately for her curiosity, both her mother purging her father and her aunt purging her uncle happened behind closed doors, as decency and decorum demanded.

"We're ready, Deacon Katherine," Virginia said, trying not to sound too eager.

"Very well," Deacon Katherine responded, opening her palm. "Charlie, please disrobe."

Charlie stood, and unknotted his tie. He pulled off his black sweater vest, and folded it neatly on the desk. Then, casting tall shadows against a bookcase, he began to unbutton his dress shirt.

Virginia looked away, quite conspicuously. So blatantly, in fact, Deacon Katherine felt compelled to intervene.

"You may look, my child. In fact, you should look. You are to be his Keeper, so you must know every inch of the body you will keep. He will be yours, body, mind, and soul."

Virginia nodded, and looked upon her shirtless Kept-to-be for the first time.

Goodness! So many muscles! How on earth did he hide those under that tight uniform shirt?

Charlie's broad shoulders rippled with strength, his pecs jutting out staunch and well-defined. His torso angled inward slightly, a lithe and sinewy inverted triangle of creased abdominal muscles. The show stopped suddenly, cut off by his leather belt, but his thick fingers were already undoing it.

Virginia felt a tingle slide down her spine. It split to form a V along her thighs, then reconvened to flood the space between her legs with a warm, giddy glow. The glow spread rapidly, trembling through her vaginal lips, surging inside her so deeply it reached her stomach.

She had no idea what this feeling was, only that she wanted more of it, wanted more of Charlie. She needed to press her body up against his body and... and kiss him? Yes, kiss him, but not just on his mouth; lick him; bite him; feel his steely forearms squeeze her tiny frame against his own.

But an awakened carnal instinct blessed her with the knowledge that something further existed, some delightful act he could do to her, or perhaps her to him. Something innately related to this capricious, eager tingle in her lower half. But Virginia, an average Brightmoore good girl, had no idea what this activity could actually be. She knew she wanted him close, of course, so close he was actually inside her. Yet she couldn't work out the physical logistics of this primal need.

Deacon Kate, on the other hand, watched with an eagerness derivable only from an intimate knowledge of sinful activities. She knew she wanted Charlie to fling her onto the desk. She wanted him to spread her legs wide, holding them apart below the knee as his hard, hard cock probed at her quivering lower lips. She wanted him to sink into her with a single grunting motion, drilling deeper and deeper and deeper with each breathy thrust.

Charlie removed his belt and unzipped his pants. He felt his penis harden as the two women stared, one his soon-to-be eternal partner for all the future, the other a steward of his immortal soul since he'd been very small. Something about the way Virginia and Deacon Katherine gawked at him made him feel wanted. Desired. Strong.

His stiffening erection stretched the fabric of his white briefs, outlining the bulge for all to see. He simply had too much rigid flesh for such a limited space. Instinctively, he reached to cover himself, looking ashamedly at the floor. His momentary flourish of pride evaporated as he realized he'd just sinned gravely, in front of a Deacon no less.

"Take your hands away, Charlie," Deacon Kate commanded, struggling to prevent personal lust from undermined the sanctity of the rite she needed to perform. "'Bring your sins to light, for to keep them shadowed breeds one sin more.'"

Virginia felt her face flush hot, thinking the Deacon's Sunday Tome recitation aimed at her.

"I'm sorry, Deacon Katherine! Forgive me! I-I have this tingling in my lower body and I can't stop staring at him and I want him to do... something to me. I don't know what, I just know it's sinful!"

The Deacon laughed, a piercing arrow that ricocheted about the tall arches of the room.

"What you are feeling is sexual arousal, Virginia. It can be a sin, you are correct. But it need not be. A truly virtuous Keeper sublimates these urges, learns to control them, channels them into providing the most thorough purging for her Kept. His pleasure is your pleasure. The sin in your vagina seeks to fuse with the sin so obviously present in his penis. Your duty will be to extract Charlie's sin from him, while refusing the allure of your own."

Deacon Katherine took a deep breath. Even though she was a holy woman, she was having trouble following her own advice. But virtue untested was virtue unknown. She had to set a good example for these two, no matter what. No matter badly she wanted to sprawl across her desk, her bare breasts pressed against the polished wood. When she closed her eyes, she could still see Charlie hiking up her skirt to rail her doggy-style, slamming his impressive dick all the way up to her cervix. If clitoral self-stimulation wasn't a sin, she'd be rubbing herself furiously.

She took a deep breath and the urge passed, as it always did. She was a woman of virtue.

"I meant that Charlie should reveal his sin," Deacon Katherine continued, motioning with a twirling finger that he should drop his underwear. He complied automatically, having followed the Deacon's commands for basically his entire life.

Charlie let his splendid member fall into view, awash in a dim glow of candlelight and feminine lust. He was fully hard now, just under seven inches, circumcised like all Brightmoore boys. It curved slightly, seeming to angle directly towards Virginia.