Chapter 6

The staff and family were sitting around the huge dining table having breakfast. It was just cereal, toast, and fruit, since Lemonsong had fired the chef the previous night. As I walked in and poured myself a bowl of corn flakes, she was cynically explaining to Amy, “Most of our church’s worshippers are horny perverts, but totally homophobic. They’re a bunch of dirty hypocrites, but they donate generously if we give ‘em what they want.

When they see Bradley marry a girl two years younger with a baby in her belly, they’ll be glad getting young women pregnant is a holy and good thing. When they watch my cute little 14-year-old daughter marry a guy who’s 30, they’ll go nuts with approval. Most of the men will be hoping they can marry and fuck a woman-child like her someday, or at least screw one.

My dresses that touch the tops of my shoes but show off my tits and let them see most of a leg when I walk are no accident. Neither are my six-inch heels or the choir girls’ tight white tops and white miniskirts. Its funny people think outfits from a wet t-shirt contest are fine in church if they have some white lace around the sleeves and little silver angels barely covering their nipples.

On the flip side, if there’s even a hint my husband or son might be gay, they’ll flee for some other church that doesn’t tolerate homosexuality. A lot of them are racist too. We have several production staff who are minorities, but they’re never shown on camera. The only person of color they see is our one-quarter black choir director, who was a Miss Louisiana and wears slightly more than a swimsuit. It’s white and pink, so of course they think it’s okay in church.” She giggled madly.

Amy asked, “So when will I marry Bradley?”

Lemon smiled and said, “Once you’re pregnant enough to have a visible baby bump, around five or six months.”

My little teen fiancée Cherie asked, “And when do I have to marry Jason?”

Lemon put a hand on her naughty daughter’s shoulder. “In two weeks, at the Sunday TV service. A seamstress is coming over this afternoon to get the measurements for your wedding dress. Remember, it should be as sexy as possible. The more the guys drool over you, the more they’ll donate.”

“And I have to keep sleeping in your bed, Mom?”

“Until you’re married and pregnant, so encourage him to knock you up soon. Jason will be a busy guy. He has three ladies to breed.”

She turned toward me and licked her lips. “Speaking of which, I’m in the mood again. Met me in my bedroom when you’re done with breakfast.”