May Rising Ch. 01

"Is everything ok with you and your mother?" A subtle line of inquiry began as to the happenings outside.

Priscilla took a drawn breath through her nose, the damp smell of the office filling her mind.

"It's uh... yeah... it's fine." Little information was yielded.

The reverend closed the book in his hand and replaced it on the shelf, turning around to look at the girl sitting near him.

"Hmm..." he said, looking down his glasses at her. It made her the slightest bit concerned that all he had to say was "hmm", but she held off with any further statements less her mother found out she bad-mouthed her to Reverend Bryce.

"I've prayed for you and your mom... for some time now... since your father died." Reverend Bryce came to his desk, a bit closer to Priscilla, sitting against the front of it.

"It's been almost five years, I know it hasn't been easy. For either of you."

Shaking her head was all she could do to acknowledge the pastor's words, her lips fidgeting as she choked on the thoughts. While her mother was never the easiest or most soft-spoken, her father's untimely death certainly exaggerated things in their relationship as she grew older.

"I...I prayed to God that you would become a strong... beautiful woman one day. That you would grow up to become a woman of God." The reverend's face turned to a smile as he walked behind her chair, placing his hand at the head of the chair as Priscilla thought his tone seemed off.

"Than...thank you, Reverend Bryce." She felt a shudder go up her spine as he stood behind her looking down. She was almost sure he would have a partial glance down her dress at that angle, but her mind also didn't believe the pastor would do such a thing.

"Do you mind... if we say a prayer of thanks... Priscilla?" Her name fell off his tongue with a wet gasp.

She could only nod, his form standing behind her, a hand coming to the top of her head with firmness as she closed her eyes like a good girl of Jesus should.

"Father God... thank you for delivering Priscilla into adulthood safely." He said up to the ceiling, his fingers daring to toy with her blonde strands as he did so. "You have taken this beautiful woman and fashioned her into a woman for god, both beautiful and powerful."

His hands slipped down, engulfing themselves in her hair as he fussed with her waviness. Her breathing quickened, frozen in the chair as her heart raced from her chest.

"Life has not always been easy for us, your children... but you never give us more than you know we can handle."

His fingers slipped from her hair to her neck, eyes still looking to the "heavens" above him, which was a yellow stain on the ceiling panels. They teased around the skin of her neck and shoulders, causing her to goosebump as she let out a sharp breath from her mouth.

"In the end lord... you reward your followers by bringing them together... by bringing them to each other... like adam and eve your children are a perfect compliment." His touch became so light that it made her jolt and subtly squeak, yet then they would grasp her shoulders and massage.

As she listened to his words, Priscilla recalled that this was like no prayer she had ever participated in before. It sounded so... awkward like he was suggesting she was pairing with someone like Eve to adam. Priscilla hadn't the first concept of any of it, beyond the fact that something happened between men and women, and it's only when you were married. Yet as Reverend Bryce's fingers found the straps of her dress, she was reminded of the fact she was by no means... married.

"Lord you giveth your daughter's bodies that become like swan songs to your sons... Their allure calling us to do our diligence unto them... so protect us, lord, as we follow your precepts."

It was at those words Priscilla audibly gasped, and the pastor slipped her dress and bra down and over her a-cup breasts. There she hung exposed, nubile and soft, pink areolas stiffening with the sting of the cold air around them. From above and behind the pastor wasted no time blessing them with his hands, rubbing them up, and down, fiddling with her nipples, feeling their undersides. It was like he sought to understand every inch of their surface while the girl sat helpless below him. Priscilla in her turn could only whimper and tightly grip the armrests.

"Reverend?..." her voice was the complete opposite of when she defied her mother. This time sounding so betrayed and frightened as she was exposed by the man she had known for many years to be a leader in their church.

Crouching down, Bryce spun the chair to face him, his eyes level with her breasts as he smiled at her, hands still kneading her bosom.

"Priscilla..." his voice heavy with lust as he pinched one of her nipples softly. The girl's back arched and her lungs begged for air at the sensation. Her eyebrows were furrowed, jaw slacked as this new experience engulfed her. Yet there was a tinge of wetness at her fierce eyes, the innocence sharing space with anger as she was violated.

One of his hands escaped to the hem of Priscilla's dress, pulling it up enough that he could view the flower of her body. A pair of beige panties concealed it like a proper lady, at this the pastor smiled warmly, much as he did in the service. His thumb began tracing the mound of her essence and down between the valley of her lips, the fabric growing damp with each pass.

"You are a good girl... I can tell you have kept yourself pure." He smiled at her as he rubbed her other nipple in conjunction with her womanhood.

"Mmmmmm..." Priscilla bit her lip and squirmed in her seat. She resented this feeling and resented more that he liked the fact she was "pure" as if she was saving any of this just for him.

"You know god said... be fruitful and multiply?" His hand traveled to Priscilla's face, thumb pushing the corner of her lip as he looked at her with a carnal expression. His other kneaded deeper into the fabric of her panties, a long drawn breath from the girl in response.

"Well... I have not taken a wife as of yet... so I cannot follow such commands." His hands relented, resting in her lap for a moment. Expression was still warm and polite as he gave her a moment of reprieve from his touches.

Priscilla fought through her labored breaths, a hot feeling emanating from her, and the lust that she felt for the first time. Her eyes looked down with a veiled disdain at what the preacher was suggesting.

"That's... that's where you come in Priscilla. You see, I think God put us in each other's lives at the right moment. I am without a mate, a womb to bear my fruit, and you have blossomed into a beautiful... woman with no man to take care of you." His eyes watched her nude chest rise and fall, nipples erect from how he graced her.

"Let's become one Priscilla... marry me... and I'll take care of you." The pastor put his hands on the skin of her abdomen, leaning into her with a mouth prepared to taste her flesh.

It was then it all snapped in Priscilla's mind, her upbringing, her home life, this religion she was raised under. Everything up until now was more fictitious than the supposed visages of satan in the real world. She was tired of being caged in backcountry Nebraska when there were literal worlds out there, or at the very least, anywhere but here.

No sooner did his tongue lightly salivate over her nippled did she rake a hand across the pastor's face.

"Get off of me!" She pushed him and the chair back, the leather backrest falling to the floor as she stood up, still bare-chested.

"You little... slut!" Bryce shouted looking up at the half-naked girl. Priscilla made to slap him once more for such an insult after his instigation, yet he caught it and pushed her backward till she slammed on the door.

Dazed she sat up against it, that was until a jabbing pain in her back came from someone trying to open it.

"Reverend is everything alri-" Mrs. Lemons the choir director peaked her head in, only to look white in the face at the sight of the topless girl on the floor.

"This harlot!" The pastor accused, but Priscilla wasn't going to stick around long enough for him to finish that thought. Deftly she pulled the top of her dress back over her shoulders, though she had little time for her bra that she simply discarded. Without hesitation and with a fierceness she shoved Mrs. Lemon aside, the older woman yelping, and made for the exit of the church, leaving many perplexed partitioners in her wake.

Little was done to stop her, but she knew the word would spread like wildfire now, Priscilla May Anderson was trying to seduce the pastor. It was the only way to see it, the only way it would be allowed to be seen. Her long legs carried her swiftly, at first a run as she bolted halfway down the pot-holed road, only after the church was well behind her and her lungs begged for mercy did she slow to a trot.

Beside her, the vast plowed fields were being tended to, red sensors on the heads of the cultivating robots like eyes watching her while judging her transgressions. Hardly any cars were on the road, most still lingering around the center of the town, but a few gravity-bearing trucks passed her on the main drag out of town, empty of fertilizer they had deposited at the mill. The woosh of air from the gap between them and the road was refreshing in the hot summers but today felt extra cold as they floated past.

It was a long two-mile walk home than usual that afternoon. Her footsteps weighted with emotional baggage laden on her so gradually it took today to realize the strain it caused. It's hard to look at the old roads of her youth the same way after the foundation around it crumbled. Slowing to a saunter she grabbed her shoulders, holding herself tight as a stream of tears began to run from her eyes. What would happen to her now? Where would she go?

Priscilla looked above her to find more freighters ascending into the cloud banks. Like specks, they were so far from her reach, and outside the bars of her cage... it was time for her to also break free and ascend.