I was going to change that, so I slid out of my own t-shirt and followed her in. A minute later we were joined by Chris. After a lot of splashing and some playing tag in the cold water, our lips started to turn blue and we got out again. I went in to get some towels and we spread them on the meadow to let the sun do the job of drying our skin. With Angie lying on her back I finally had ample time to contemplate her breasts. In her position there was hardly a mound except for the bright pink of her areola, her nipples hard from the frigid water. They looked deliciously like tiny strawberries. I was just about to nibble the one nearest me when she giggled something about her bladder, got up and left me staring into Chris' eyes - who had obviously come to the same conclusions as me. He was beautiful to look at reclining on his back, his skin taunt from the water, his nipples hardly smaller than Angie’s and his cock standing nearly upright in spite of his position. I couldn't. With them stands my pastor. He stands with a solemn face. The air is quiet, the crowd stands still. Whispers rise as I walk through the doorway, as they see me come for the final time. There are no welcome faces, none at all. Only faces of condemnation. In the center of the platform lies a tall wooden cross, waiting to be raised. Waiting for me. I feel fear. I stop walking. My guard grabs my arm and pulls me forward. Towards the platform. Towards my death. My fear grows. My heart is pounding. I am pulled onto the platform where I can see the crowd and the courtyard. I freeze again. Before me, beyond the platform, is a corpse. Around it are piles of rocks strewn in the dirt. The corpse is bloodied beyond recognition. I do not need to see its face. ***My third failure spelled my doom. Axel endured his lashes as I did mine. Stricken with pain, fear, and loneliness, we pursued our work under the pastor. We worked hard and I began to move on from my past. My.
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