Page 5 of Remorseless Sinner

“My—I—maybe-- I was late for Sunday services today,” I suggested timidly.

Glancing over at my parents for help, I was shocked to see their faces looking stern and angry.

“Nothingelse, Gracie?” Mom asked.

“Be honest,” my stepdad ordered sharply.

They stood up, jostling me to my feet and I was startled to see the rest of the Congregation doing the same.

I was being herded, gathered, into the center of a circle, as the machines whirred above me, the probes darting, pulling at my hair, backing up, then doing it again, little pinches of pain as the investigation began.

“Iregret to inform the Eye of an instance of Gracie’s depravity,” Dr. Meier said.

My cheeks flamed and I felt weak and voiceless, as I stared aghast at his face that I had thought was so kind and supportive.

The potlucks, the time he had run antibiotics over to me in the middle of the night when I was sick, the way he had supported me after what happened seven years ago. . .

All that meant nothing after I had rejected him.

The idea thathewould dare try to condemn me, after he had. . .made such a very improper proposition to me. As a married man!

Then to my horror Dr. Meier turned and pointed to me.

“Gracie is a whore tempting men to lust. She needs to be punished and Abandoned to the forest.”

CHAPTER 2

Gracie

“No!” I protested, feeling tears start to my eyes. “No, I never did that!”

My hands clutched my skirt as everyone stared at me, their bodies inching closer, still closer. My skirt was down to my ankles but I still felt exposed, even with my turtleneck up to my throat.

It felt like everyone was looking at my heavy breasts, knowing my dirty shameful secret that they prickled with milk, staring at my curvy hips, my ass, that I thought I had hidden under the skirt.

“In what way has she tempted men?” Pastor Mickelson asked sternly.

“With her immodesty and wanton behavior,” Dr. Meier said, his finger pointing. “She tempted me to covet her.”

I glanced down again at my attire. Long-sleeved turtleneck shirt that covered the whole top of my body. Long skirt down to my ankles, cute little boots.

My breasts did swell against the soft fabric, but it wasn’t because it was tight. I just had very heavy, full breasts.

And the milky strange wetness had increased in the last few weeks, my breasts swollen in size, massive and engorged. As ifthe wickedness that I thought was hidden deep inside me was somehow coming out.

But I had never tempted Dr. Meier! I had never wanted him to desire me.

“I am—dressed to worship the Eye!” I cried out, even though I hadn’t been addressed.

The rustles in the Congregation began to increase, the whispers get louder. Angry, incredulous glances.

The faces turned to me, eyes flicking up and down my body, and I began to hear noises start deep in their throats.

“My husband confessed all,” Mrs. Meier said, her voice rising shrilly, her thin blonde hair rising from her body with the static electricity the Congregation was generating as they all shuffled slowly toward me. “How you’ve been wearing slutty clothes, making eyes at him.”

“Making eyes at him? I have not! Tell them,” I begged my parents. “Tell them I did nothing wrong!”

“Shh,” my mother said, pinching my thigh painfully. “He is an Elder. You must have donesomethingimproper.”

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