The stained glass windows cast a jewel-like pattern on the stone floor my little elven companion swept with an endearing urgency. The day was over, the daily church services were done and the rituals performed, yet in this stillness of the sacred sanctuary, she worked to make our holy place ready for tomorrow. This was little Tysia's own ritual, a necessary part of maintaining the sanctitude of the church.
"Tysia, slow down now," I softly admonished, watching from where I sat in the pew, quietly reading scriptures while she went about her tasks.
She didn't stop her incessant sweeping, but paused like a little girl who had been caught by a disapproving parent. Her golden eyes twinkled when they looked at me; like that of her woodland kin, Tysia's expression could be so serious for one so young—perhaps it was my imagination. "Master!" she blurted out, "I want to finish my duties quickly, because you promised today would make holy water."
"I promised?" I chuckled as I got up from the pew and took the broom from her. She nodded eagerly. "I suppose I did, then. Stand still, will you?"
She obeyed, even going further and assuming the traditional position for blessing—hands folded before her, head bowed. Ah, so cute; why do I like this little lass so much? Despite being a man of the cloth, it was her every action that brought out my... mischievous nature. When I'm alone with her, I tend to get a bit sacrilegious. And she's none the wiser.
"Master, if we're making holy water, shouldn't we go to the master's r—ahh!" She let out an innocent squeal of surprise, looking down at my hands reaching around from behind to cup her breasts. I quickly found her nipples and, with my fingertips, teased them into rigid points.
Her breathing was gradually becoming heavier; but the innocent altar girl she was, she tried her best to stay composed. In-between small gasps and pleasured whimpers, she looked like a plaintive child. "I-If I make holy water here, it'll spill on the floor," she said hoarsely, trying to reason with me while she squirmed at my touch—I didn't relent.