Before I lay bare my dreadful deeds for all to see and face complete condemnation for what I did, you must first listen. Let me tell you the truth so that you might understand, so that you might see why I did what I did. I’ll confess everything. If you give me a chance to explain, you’ll see I only did what I had to. I didn’t have any choice. You would have done the same if you were in my place. You would have! Don’t deny it! Just… just listen to my side of things first. I promise you, it wasn’t my fault.
I had to do it.
— The Sunday After —
Emma brought the final hymn to a close with a flick of her hand. She hadn’t been the choir’s conductor for long and would still get nervous standing in front of a congregation of roughly two hundred. Nevertheless, her voice was as angelic as the inspired lyrics she sang—a delight for all who heard her. Slowly she was gaining confidence, and the congregation responded in kind as they sang their praises in harmony.
It had been a wonderful Sabbath service, with various talks extolling the importance of honesty, modesty, and chastity. Her father, the bishop, preached passionately about the golden rule, to ‘love your neighbor like yourself.’ He had fought back tears as he spoke, knowing of the hardships those he was responsible for endured. It was a heavy burden to carry.
It was the third time Emma’s dad had served as the bishop within the local church. And her mom was still the president of the Women’s Organization. As a result, most nights Emma looked after herself while her parents were out fulfilling their church responsibilities. It had been that way most of her life, and now, as a nineteen-year-old, she often preferred it that way.
The congregation adored her family, often viewing them as the quintessentially perfect Christian family. Emma never did like that. What had she done to deserve such praise? Whenever she heard such things, she would politely nod, brush her soft, brown hair to one side, and, with a gentle smile, quickly discard such unwarranted applause.
To her annoyance, her supposed humility often drew even greater praise.
She always wished her belief was as strong as her parents’. She prayed and read from the Bible daily. She could even quote several psalms. On Christmas morning, she worked at a soup kitchen and even sang at the local hospital to the ill children every Wednesday afternoon. The sweet choir girl often decorated her bedroom walls with cards the little children enjoyed making for her.
Yet in her heart, there was an impassable chasm between her and God. She secretly longed for what her college friends had: their freedom to live without the restraint of a traditionalistic church or its doctrine. She might have drifted away from her faith if it weren’t for her love of singing. What would she have without her faith? Some questions were too painful to answer.
“Sister McCall said you sang beautifully today,” Emma’s dad smiled as he drove the family home after the service.
Emma simply smiled and continued to look out of the car window. The meadows looked amazing this time of year, with the crisp breeze dancing through the long grass. As a kid, she loved running through those fields during family walks. Often a young Emma had tried to hide in the grass as her parents frantically searched for her. They must have been relieved when Emma had grown too big to duck below the top of the grass.
“You alright, dear?” Her dad continued to probe, casting a concerned glance at Emma in the rearview mirror.
Emma nodded, “Just a bit tired.”
Thou shalt not lie. The commandment echoed around Emma’s mind as the words fell from her lips.
Her dad was amazing, the best dad you could hope for, and he could solve almost any problem. But. He wouldn’t understand, not this one. Her mind turned back to the party the night before. Parties had always been difficult for her; even though she loved her friends, they didn’t exactly live the same way as her.
The church had strict rules regarding those things teens typically enjoy doing. There was to be no swearing or shopping sprees with friends on Sundays. It was always a no to doing drugs or drinking alcohol and absolutely, without exception, no sex before marriage.
That final rule was especially important and, for many, a point of contention with church authority. While her parents were more liberal than most church members and were careful not to put too much pressure on their daughter, Emma still felt a weight of expectation on her shoulders.
Several of her friends had already left the church when they hit their teen years. Emma tried to stay in touch with them, but it often became too difficult to know what to say. And so, with each passing year, it seemed an extra friend or two would vanish from her life.
Her parents always tried to trust her. When she asked them if she could attend a house party with a few friends, it wasn’t too long before they agreed. It was for Chloe’s twentieth birthday after all, and Emma had grown up with her. In truth, her parents loved Chloe ever since she stood up to Emma’s bullies in primary school. Since then, Chloe became like an older sister to Emma.
“Truth for me.” Those were the foolish words Emma spoke the night before and now regretted.
— Truth or Dare —
Emma had enjoyed the game, to begin with; just some lighthearted and carefree fun. The game even got a couple of friends, who clearly had crushes on each other, to finally make out. People got carried away after that dare.
Finally, it was the birthday girl’s turn. Chloe confidently chose Dare as well. The group was quick with their calls for two minutes of dirty talk, championed by the more confident guy of the group. Chloe, refusing to be embarrassed, called their bet and raised it by crawling forward into the circle. She gave each lustful face a glimpse of her cleavage and perhaps unintentionally presented Emma a perfect view of her plump butt.
Words of utter filth and depravity poured from Chloe’s sweet lips as she fulfilled her dare. Her declarations shocked Emma. No wait; that’s a lie. It wasn’t shock; not really. As Emma listened to her best friend’s words, it was something else she felt, something she attempted to deny.
It was jealousy and arousal that truly wrapped around Emma. She listened to each word laced with unashamed suggestions of what Chloe planned for her prey. Her eyes lingered on the round bottom wiggling ever so slightly in front of her. The tight jeans hugged her curves, begging Emma to reach out for them. Unknowingly, she played with her hair while becoming hypnotized.
It wasn’t the first time she had noticed her attraction to other women. Of course, she kept her sinful desires a secret from all and ripped the foolish thoughts out before they took root. Usually it was easy to do. Chloe made it difficult.
“Stop looking, Em. Repent. Flee from the Devil!” The angel on her shoulder insisted.
A couple of the boys had already crossed their arms over their laps, pretending Chloe didn’t hold them captive in the palm of her hand. One of them, however, more stupid than brave, kept his arms back and dared to meet Chloe’s gaze. She zeroed in on him, like a deadly eagle hunting a fat mouse who dared mock her absolute dominance. She crawled even closer; her words dripped like venom with unbridled desire.
Emma gulped at the sight, and all her body tingled. Chloe was inches from the guy, so close that he must have been able to feel her breath on him. Emma squirmed. With each insidious suggestion, a deep yearning grew, which Emma knew she should ignore. A frustrating warmth developed between her thighs that almost demanded she slip her hand down her jeans.
Still, the guy didn’t back down; a hopeless last stand destined to collapse. Chloe slowly moved her hand towards his crotch, telling him what she was about to do to it. She told him how she was going to rip off his clothes and take him right there and then for everyone to see. There wasn’t the slightest hint of deceit in her voice.
One of the girls, with a less-than-pleased expression, dragged her slack-jawed boyfriend away from the game.
Chloe was practically licking his ear as each word slithered out. Her hand rolled across the bulge in his trousers, and the fool’s façade disintegrated with a pathetic whimper. Triumphant, Chloe burst into laughter and playfully shoved the guy back.
“Sorry boys,” she declared, smirking at the twitching erection. “Your two minutes are officially up.”
The birthday girl sat back down beside Emma with her dare conquered. Emma averted her eyes and pretended they hadn’t, moments earlier, been peeling her clothes off. However, dampness between her thighs told the truth.
On her turn, Emma knew picking truth would be the safest option. After all, lying was a sin. What harm could come from telling the truth? She smiled and said those cursed words.
“What’s your favorite position?” The room erupted into laughter, all except for an embarrassed Emma and furious Chloe.
Emma only knew some of the people at the party; most of them had no idea about her beliefs. The mousy girl shrank as she looked around the room.
“I… I don’t know,” Emma said. Ironically, that was the truth.
“Huh? What you mean?” A different guy slurred, “Everyone knows what they like.”
But how can you know what your favorite sex position is when you’ve never had sex? She fidgeted on the pillow she sat on. Should she explain, maybe lie? The night had been so much fun, and for the first time in ages, she hadn’t felt like the circus freak at a party. Emma had driven there with her friends, so no one had questioned why she wasn’t drinking. She was just another, albeit quiet, guest at the party.
“Damn it, why did I choose truth?” She scolded herself in her mind.
Emma whispered. “I just don’t know, okay.”
Those playing the stupid game tried to determine if she was being honest or not. One of them tilted his head and leaned in a little. Chloe seethed beside her, ready to pounce on the fool who dared press the matter.
“Wait a sec,” he started conspiratorially. “Are you trying to tell us that you’re still, you know, a virgin?”
Emma looked down, wishing the ground would swallow her up. She was probably the only one at the party who hadn’t yet had sex. She knew among her non-church friends she was the last. Even the less popular girls were having sex by now.
It wasn’t like she didn’t find people attractive or had thought about doing those things. It certainly wasn’t due to the lack of options. But she always held off losing her virginity, wanting to stay true to her beliefs. She’d never even experimented by herself. Her cheeks flared as a rampant wildfire spread across her face.
“Stop being such freaking pervs and ask her a normal question!” Chloe snapped as she threw her pillow at them.
Thankfully, after Chloe’s intervention, the party continued without Emma having to explain her answer. At times, though, she could feel curious eyes on her, judging if she was as innocent as she claimed.
Emma barely slept after the party as her thoughts kept circling in her mind. Am I a freak? Do I really have to wait until marriage? Why shouldn’t I be like my friends? I could repent after, right? What would it be like? Eventually, she managed to silence the tempting demons assaulting her mind and found solace within a measly couple of hours worth of sleep.
— Discovery Of The Double Life —
The restless thoughts from the night before occupied Emma’s mind on the drive home. Once the family pulled into the driveway, she leaned forward in the car and kissed her mom and dad on the cheeks before stepping out. It would be late in the evening by the time they would return.
Apparently, Brother and Sister Richards were still having marriage difficulties, and poor Sister Evans had recently lost her husband. Each needed support, so Mom and Dad would be out for at least a few hours. That’s not even considering the unplanned visits they often had to make.
It left Emma home alone again. Truthfully, she was grateful. Cleaning the house and cooking dinner would help distract her from the invasive thoughts she kept having.
With sleeves rolled up, a bead of sweat trickled along Emma’s brow as she put the final book into the storage box. Just how many books did her dad need? She tried to remember where she had to put them. The living room bookshelves were already full, and the spare ones upstairs were starting to bow.
Emma finally remembered her mom had told her to put the books at the top of her wardrobe.
She carried the heavy box of books to her parent’s bedroom wardrobe. There was just enough space right at the top. Her blouse slid up her slender frame as she reached upwards, exposing her tummy to the cold air. It was at times like this that Emma cursed being so short. She managed to get the box precariously in place and, with her fingertips, tried to push it back.
Almost there. Almost.
Emma slipped, and the boxes crashed down around her.
“Oh for…” Emma clasped her hand over her mouth before the sinful curse escaped her lips.
In a huff and with a few fresh bruises, Emma knelt to gather the various items now spewed across her parents’ bedroom floor. Thankfully, only one extra box had fallen, so it was simple to organize. Emma jumped in shock and dropped the book she picked up.
How worn out was she? She couldn’t have seen what she thought she had. It must have just been a trick of her sleep-deprived mind.
Sheepishly, Emma pushed the book to one side to confirm she was going insane. Her eyes widened as she realized she wasn’t. Beneath one of her dad’s favorite books was something Emma never thought she would find at home: her parent’s dark secret.
Beneath the book was a DVD, and not the type you’d watch with your grandparents.
Emma blushed as she looked at the cover; it showed a picture of a beautiful woman clearly on the brink of orgasm. She reached out her naughty fingers for the DVD case that shouldn’t exist. As soon as she brushed against the plastic case, she quickly withdrew her hand and looked around the room. Her cheeks ignited as she searched for the judgmental faces of phantoms and ghosts.
What was she doing? So many times in her Sunday School classes, she had learned what to do. Why was she not doing it? Shun the sin and walk away. It was simple. She knew what she should do; she had done it before when offered alcohol. But what if, just this once, she stopped doing the right thing?
Her breathing deepened as her gaze fell on the picture on the cover of the DVD; the figure was voluptuous and curvy. A goddess. Emma bashfully gulped. She was almost the complete opposite of her, with her petite build. Her nipples poked against her cotton bra as she struggled to tear her eyes away from the picture.
“Put it away, you foolish girl,” the angel on her shoulder pleaded.
The devil’s chuckle drowned out the angels pleas.
Emma’s eyes darted to the clock. No one would be back yet for at least half an hour, perhaps more. Maybe there was time? Her fingers brushed against her inner thighs, spreading their corruption. The Devil now cackled. No, she couldn’t. She mustn’t. But what if she did?
With a shake of her head, she composed herself and put the DVD away. One by one, she put the books back into the box. She unearthed a few more DVDs, each as sordid as the last; more secrets that shouldn’t exist.
There had to be a logical reason for why they were in her parents’ bedroom. Had her dad confiscated them from members of the church? But why not simply throw them away? She grew more flustered with each passing second as she hurried to silence the only logical reason.
Her hand trembled; her heart fluttered. The last DVD had drawn her attention, making it impossible to look away. Across the cover, a young woman held a strange device between her long legs. She was gorgeous; so beautiful, in fact, that Aphrodite would lust after her.
But that wasn’t all. Something else had drawn Emma to it, a detail that made her question so much about herself. The woman’s face on the cover looked almost identical to Chloe’s. A torrent of memories washed over the quiet church girl as those deliciously awful words Chloe had spoken last night came back to her.
She shut her eyes, and thoughts of Chloe’s bum in lingerie invaded her mind, betraying everything Emma believed in. Growing up, they had changed together in the girl’s locker room enough times for Emma to picture her body perfectly. She even remembered the cute freckle on Chloe’s right bum cheek, the one that always shyly hides from her just at the edge of her panties.
In truth, more than a couple of times over the years, Emma had caught her gaze wandering to places they shouldn’t. Each time they had tried on clothes together, her eyes had lingered for a few seconds longer than needed. Once more, like a scorned friend, the shameless warmth returned.
“What you looking at, you filthy little slut?” The mirage of Chloe snarled back at Emma.
Emma snapped back to reality and straightened her hair as the lustful eyes of her imagined friend pierced her damaged soul.
“Dinner,” she squeaked. “I need to sort dinner out.”
— The Seventh Commandment of Mt. Sinai —
After dinner, Emma was busy washing the dirty dishes. As she scrubbed off the stubborn dirt from the frying pan, she wondered if it was as simple to clean her soul. She could feel the phantom version of Chloe reaching around her, biting her neck as her hands slowly lifted her top. She rushed to finish cleaning up.
In the living room, Emma’s dad practiced the piano. In the past five years, he hadn’t gotten much better. Nevertheless, every evening he would sit at the piano and fumble over keys while her mom would sweetly correct him.
The current hymn they were working on was one of Emma’s favorites, ‘Come thou fount of every blessing.’. On any other evening, Emma might have stood behind them and sung with them. But after her discovery earlier, that was the last thing she wanted to do. After cleaning the dishes, she kissed her mom and dad on the cheeks and went to her room for an early night.
At least, that’s what she claimed she was doing.
Emma closed her bedroom door and locked it, perhaps for the first time ever. Leaning back against the door, she wondered if she really was going to do this. Her naughty little heart raced within her chest, and her knees trembled. The angel on her shoulder still insisted it wasn’t too late, while the devil’s cackling had simply grown more rapturous.
She wasn’t this nervous when she took her exams. Emma hesitated as she reached for her bedside drawer that contained it and looked around her room.
Unseen eyes seemed to burrow into her soul. Sat on her bed, Emma nervously scratched her forearm. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror; tucked into its frame, an old photo caught her attention.
The photo was from a couple of summers ago when Chloe invited Emma to join her on a family holiday. The two of them had spent most of it sunbathing on a beautiful beach as the tide slowly came in. On the last day of the holiday, they had taken a picture on the beach with the sun setting behind them. She had looked at the picture hundreds of times when she got ready in the morning, but this was perhaps the first time she saw the picture.
Chloe looked stunning in her bikini, with the sun resting over the sparkling ocean. Emma bit her lips and stared at her sun-kissed friend. Once more those horrible words that fell from Chloe’s succulent lips during her dare returned to her.
The secret inside her bedside table drawer mocked her dying innocence.
She grabbed her laptop and inserted the DVD from earlier, which she had decided to steal before her parents got home. The headphones went in, and she lay back against her pillows with the screen in front of her, unsure what to expect. The image of Chloe’s look-alike bathed Emma in light. She turned the volume down; even if she had headphones in, she couldn’t afford for her parents to overhear and find out what she was watching.
The DVD was a compilation of videos from a popular porn actress, Steph Bowers. As the video began to play, the resemblance to Chloe was astonishing. If Chloe didn’t have her tattoo over her collarbone, it would be impossible to distinguish the two at a glance. No wonder all the guys loved her; they had probably seen the similarities as well.
A few minutes into the video, the impure hellfires raged inside Emma. She tightly gripped the bedsheets, pulling them up over herself as Steph exposed herself. She couldn’t help but imagine Chloe doing it for her. Did Chloe even like women? Maybe she was hiding a secret attraction to other women as well. Emma dared to allow herself to hope.
Emma followed Steph’s fingers gliding down her body. She kept glancing at the door and listening out for footsteps on the stairs. The heavenly music from downstairs still flowed in stark contrast to the devilish moans that slipped from Steph’s lips.
Emma pulled her top off and threw it on the floor; she had never realized how soft the sheets were on her skin until now. She timidly brushed her hair behind her ear and watched as the actress caressed her nipples. Her fingers rolled around the areola and pinched lightly.
Emma gulped. She moved her fingers across the soft fabric of her bra’s cup and felt her nipples pressing against it. She studied what the Chloe lookalike was doing and copied the movement as best she could. Emma sighed as her finger grazed her concealed nipple. It felt wonderful, unlike anything she had experienced before. That touch, the sensation it created, felt as though joy itself coursed through her veins.
Her finger ran tentatively along the edge of her bra. As she closed her eyes, an imaginary Chloe crawled over her on top of the bed. Emma smiled at the thought as her fingers slipped under the cup and her fingernails trailed along her soft breasts. The moaning from the headphones engulfed Emma in a paradise of sin.
She wished her best friend were on the bed with her arms wrapped around her now needy body. She yearned to feel Chloe kiss her shoulder and neck or nibble on her earlobe.
Would she say those filthy words to her, the ones she had snarled at the party the night before? Would she hungrily tear Emma’s clothes off and run her tongue over her trembling naked body? She groaned, as if in defiance of everything she had learned at church. Would Chloe pin her down by her wrists and turn Emma into a plaything? Her toy. Would Emma have to beg and plead and scream until the sun rose in the morning? Would she?
A loud moan rolled off Emma’s tongue as she jumped and tried to reclaim it.
The sinful girl lay on her bed, heart pounding like the drums of hell, waiting for the gasps of disgusted horror from downstairs. Terrified, she watched the door; any second now, her dad would order her downstairs to explain herself. How would she ever be able to face them? What could she possibly say to make them understand? That was it. Her life was over!
But the shouts never came. The tension left her body, and she looked at the laptop. Any sensible person would have closed the video. But it had felt so good. Too good. Her skin tingled with excitement. She was already in too deep.
— Innocence Was Murdered, And I Killed It —
Emma unclasped her bra and tossed it away, then pushed the bedsheets down along with her skirt. She lay with the screen between her ankles. Her fingers inched along her virgin legs. Excitement raged inside Emma as she drew closer to her pussy. The angel and devil that had once sat on her shoulders had both been deposed by the Phantom-Chloe, with her arms around her, whispering encouragement into her ear.
At one point, she may have been able to resist this temptation, but right now those whispers were commandments. Her fingers passed by the side of her panties, and she pressed her thighs against each other, squirming in delight. More moans threaten to escape.
She traced the edges of her panties, savoring every moment and every delectable touch. She kept lying to herself that she was still in control and could stop if she wanted to. All she needed to do was to turn off the laptop. She could say a prayer and return to being a good Christian girl.
But then again, why should she?
On the screen of her laptop was a video that shouldn’t have been, filth that had no place in her home. And yet she found it hidden away in her parents’ wardrobe, of all places. Why should she abstain when they clearly didn’t? How wrong could it be, if even the bishop and his loving wife had it?
She brushed her middle finger over her pussy, unsure exactly what to expect. She purred softly as the delicate fabric of her panties caressed her labia. The sensation was so good, so natural. Her finger continued to rise along her damp folds. Still a little higher, her fingers explored.
“Fuck,” Emma gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth.
What was that? Emma looked down in disbelief as she breathed heavily into her hand. She reached back down to the spot that caused the sensation. Her fingers trembled as they hovered anxiously over the source of such bliss. She steadied herself, took a deep breath, then pressed lightly onto the warm nub at the top of her pussy.
She melted into paradise as her hips rose to greet the finger caressing her clit. The divine delight of sin, which she had denied herself for so long, rushed through her body as she panted on top of her bed. She pushed her panties down with reckless abandon and then pressed her finger against her clit once more.
Clamping her hand over her mouth, she held back her incriminating moans while her toes attempted to tear the mattress in two. Her body sang praises to her clumsy fingers. Emma watched the laptop with rapturous interest as Steph performed one lewd act after another. The actress’ eyes were fixed on the camera as if she was watching Emma discarding her worthless innocence.
Knock, knock, knock.
Emma jumped, startled by the loud knocking at her bedroom door. She quickly shut the video off as her pussy twitched and pulled the bedsheets over herself, hiding her shame as Eve once did in the garden. Her eyes were full of terror as she looked at the door. She had become too engrossed in the video to hear anyone coming up the stairs.
“Yeah?” Emma winced as she waited for the response.
“Me and your mum are having an early night,” her dad calmly spoke. “Don’t stay up too late on YouTube.”
“Okay, Dad. Night. Love you.”
Emma slumped back on her pillow in relief.
— Getting Away With Murder —
Her eyes turned back to the laptop, and the demon who possessed her opened it up again. The video continued, as did Emma’s descent into blissful damnation.
Steph clawed at her breast as she sunk a large dildo into her pussy. Emma could feel her eyes turning green as she watched. She wanted to feel what the Chloe lookalike did; all her friends at college had gossiped about how amazing it was. As she looked around the room, her eyes fell on her hairbrush, and an impish grin appeared.
Her hands nervously reached out. The girls in her biology class had giggled about using their hairbrushes a few years ago. Of course, Emma had walked away from such impure conversations. She was, after all, a good, virtuous Christian; chaste, pure, and innocent. Was.
Emma paused.
She had already done too much, far too much. But she could still stop and repent. It wouldn’t be easy, but she could do it. Her eyes betrayed her moment of clarity and drifted to the video once more. Steph was speaking as she toyed with herself. Curious, Emma lifted the headphones to listen. What she heard between the deprived moans told her what she should do.
“I’m so close, baby.” Steph groaned, “Cum with me.”
Emma’s mouth hung open as she listened and watched. Her hands obeyed Steph’s instructions. She picked up the hairbrush and slowly slipped the handle between her once innocent lips. It hurt a little, but the discomfort soon transformed into bliss.
With every thrust, the sensation grew. A tension deep within her core swelled. It was a captive animal—wild, desperate, and dangerous—and, for the first time, saw its chance to escape. Emma kept going. Her body squirmed. Her lust rioted within. She pushed her discarded skirt off the bed with her heels, the same skirt she had worn to church back when she still knew what shame was.
She pressed the hairbrush in and out, tilting it slightly. It rubbed against her insides. For whatever reason, it was delicious when it rubbed that spot, better than anything she had experienced before. How had she managed to survive without this?
Steph reached her climax, and for the first time, Emma saw and heard an orgasm. She wanted—no. She needed, more than anything else, to feel it herself. Clamping her hand over her mouth and shutting her eyes, she sped up with her makeshift dildo.
Emma’s hips bucked. It wasn’t enough yet. Her pussy squeezed hungrily around the handle. Her senses drifted away, transcending the norm. It still couldn’t satisfy. Her dark ministrations continued.
“More. Quickly!” The demon within demanded. “Stop making me wait!”
Desperately, she obeyed. She pressed her face into her pillow and reached down with her other hand. As the handle of the hairbrush penetrated the good church girl, her other hand rubbed a circle over her clit just as she had seen Steph do.
Time, reason, morality, and sensibility, even existence itself, all collapsed and melted away: for how long? It was impossible to tell. Emma bathed naked in an ocean of exquisite passion, which all her life had called her name. The waves lapped at her soft skin and caressed her subtle curves. They engulfed her with warm kisses and licks. The depths claimed her. Her body became one with ecstasy. It welcomed her home, and as Emma groaned into her pillow, she came for her first time.
Still trembling, the bishop’s defiled daughter pulled her hairbrush out of herself. The handle was slick with her awful deed. Quietly, she hid the evidence of what had transpired and, for perhaps the first time in her life, forgot to say her prayer before bed.
Emma rolled over and drifted off to sleep, coated in a light mist of sweat and lust. It was rare Emma would remember her dreams. This night, however, her dreams would be impossible to forget as Chloe taught the sheltered girl everything she needed to know.
Next Sunday, Emma stood and signaled for the congregation to stand and join her in singing ‘Onward, Christian Soldiers.’ She had lost track of how many dates she had had with Steph during the week.
She was desperate to get home again so she could strip and indulge in her newest hobby. She would once more sneak into that forest of desire. And while concealed within the dark fog, she would bury the slain body of Innocence. No one would know.
Every Sunday, she wore her mask and became the bishop’s daughter again, untarnished with the filth of the world. But as night fell, she would embrace the same darkness she warned off at church.
It was the perfect crime; my crime, the perfect Christian girl.
Thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoyed it and have a wonderful week.
