Author's Note: My stories are usually based on real-life events and tend to have religious themes. They are more about the process of corruption or good-girl-gone-bad, than about overt sex. If that doesn't appeal to you, then you probably won't want to waste your time reading what I write. On the other hand, what I write tends to be real-life events that have happened to people I know if not in the same context to the same person. It has been eight years since I finished my first story on this site. This story is tied to that one but written to stand alone. I do suggest you read my
Backsliding
series if you want to know a little about the characters I allude to here, Marilyn Baker especially. Sindi Lynne does exist in another form. She did come from a similar religious background and went down a very similar path of sin and self-discovery. So, before you say that's too odd to be true, think again. It is true and it did happen. Mostly at least.
Honest feedback is welcomed. Just leaving negative feedback for the sake of being petty is ignored. I hope you enjoy.
***
"Maybe if you were in that bar right now with your husband, he wouldn't be fucking Stephanie Barnes!"
Although it had been years since her former church member had said those words to her, they still rung clear and true as if they were said yesterday. So much, God, so very much, had happened since then and she was still amazed at the chain of events that one sentence had set into motion. Ah, to be able to push back the hands of time. There was so much she would have changed and so much she would have done sooner. But everything happens for a reason and she couldn't begin to guess that the woman she had been back then could have ever transformed into the woman she had become. As ironic as it seems, she was so much happier now.
"Oh well, no time to think about that shit now, I've got a set to do," she whispered out loud, finishing the final touches to her dark eyeliner. "My public awaits," she said with a smile, grabbing the shot of expensive tequila sitting on her desk and downing it. She then stood up and walked toward the curtain toward the main stage. She could get a glimpse from the side of the oval stage, the tall brass pole in the center, and the large-mostly male crowd just beyond, drinks and bills stacked in front of them.
She heard the music change to her favorite 80s heavy metal rock song as she reached for the curtain. Overhead, she could hear the announcer say, "Ladies and gentlemen, please make welcome, SINDI LYNNE!"
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," were the words, her own words, that flooded into her mind as she strutted out on stage one more time.
***
Marilyn Cynthia Johnson-Baker hadn't always been Sindi Lynne. That was the stage name she invented for herself when she fully committed to this journey of debauchery and self-discovery that she lived now. No, the demure, insecure, and dedicated church mouse that had been Marilyn Baker was long gone now, dead like her late husband. She knew that if most of her customers knew her story, they'd feel sorry for her, and she knew exactly what she'd tell them. Fuck you. She willingly chose this life of "sin" that she was living now, not that she believed in sin anymore anyway, or a god for that matter.
Mari's story was a long one, but not overly complicated. She was raised in a typical northern-California white-bread household. Her dad and mom both worked hard to send her and her two sisters to a private Christian school and hopefully on to college. They were a religious family who never missed Mass on Sundays.
But Marilyn had always been inquisitive and at a pretty early age, she began to question what she saw as the hypocrisy of the Catholic church. The history and traditions of her church reminded her of the paganism they worked so hard to abolish if her history books were to be believed. As she grew older, she became less convinced that Catholicism was the one true church. Naturally, that led her to start researching other religions and denominations. Sometime about the time she graduated high school, Mari (as she was called then), discovered the Pentecostal church when she was invited to attend a service with a friend of her boyfriend.
The charismatic worship of the Pentecostal church was so different from anything she had known! She quickly thought she had finally found what she had been looking for. Not only was she in love with the friendly people, exciting worship, loud music and energetic youth group, Mari especially loved the rules. She saw the teachings of that church as penance for Eve's sins. Women wore long dresses, no jewelry, no makeup, and didn't cut their hair. Their men had fewer rules, but still looked like a rerun episode of some 50s TV show. When her boyfriend quickly bored of the strict rules and legalistic devotion, Mari did just the opposite. She dismissed her boyfriend, cut most ties with her family that she now believed were truly deceived by the cult of the Catholic church, and wrapped herself in the glories of the Pentecostal movement. She attended church several times a week, traveled all over America to Youth Congresses and conventions and enrolled in a prestigious bible college back east. Within less than a year, anyone who saw Marilyn Johnson would have sworn she was born and bred into that church. Her naturally mousy-brown hair now reached down to her mid-back in soft curls. She never wore any kind of makeup and literally didn't own anything that resembled pants or jeans.
Looking back now, Sindi realized that Marilyn had an addictive personality and a penchant for being overzealous. She understood that now and knew how to manage it, but Marilyn hadn't figured that out yet. Hell, even the name Marilyn had been a nod to that overzealousness. She had been called Mari her entire life, but when she got so immersed in the rules of the church, she started going by the more-formal Marilyn. To her, it sounded more proper when people called her "Sister Marilyn".
For Sister Marilyn Johnson, church was all about the rules. She worked hard to dress holy enough. If other sisters in her church were cutting corners and wearing skirts to the knee, Marilyn thought she had to do better by wearing skits to her calves. While other girls may have slipped around and trimmed the dead ends from their hair, or wore clear mascara or nail polish, Marilyn Johnson did none of those things and had an honest disdain for those who did. Sindi laughed out loud when she thought about how vain Marilyn was in trying to wipe out vanity.
The road that currently found Sindi Lynne working in a gentleman's club in north Florida started her second semester of bible college. It was there that she met John Baker, an upper classman who was quite popular and played electric guitar in the school's traveling praise band. Marilyn had auditioned as a singer in the band her first semester and was selected, so she got to spend lots of time with the handsome John, who everyone agreed was headed places in the church. It wasn't long before one thing led to another and they were an item. Just before he graduated, he proposed to her. Afterall, a young, energetic, going-places preacher in this church organization needed a beautiful young wife by his side. The trouble was Marilyn wasn't especially beautiful. She was just normal by anyone's standards. Cute, for sure, and she would mature into a beautiful woman, but back then she was jut okay.