FIFTY SHADES OF FAITH (1)

It is a fact that Isoken's seed had fallen amongst the thorny valley of formless shadows which caused her faith to dissolve within its sturdy simplicity. It is also a fact that the last time her knees knocked the doors of the Father in prayer was beyond easy remembrance. This caused her to fail in prayer. Not because of the loss of her mouth's discipline, but for the reason that the words usually gum to her throat as powdered milk sticks to the roof of the mouth of an indulged child. She could not pray, due to a crude feeling of the loss of heavenly aura which she thought could hardly be rekindled by mere words nor repentant tears. Not even when she was faced by a veiled evil. 

Isoken admired it, this evil, as one reveres the graceful gait of a cobra striding amidst grass while dreading the lethality of its fangs. The humanoid stood across of her in the lightly furnished room, poised elegantly atop huge pins holding up the weight of its body. These pins, the colour of yellow milk, held fast to its host's feet, with leathery buckles, causing it to shrink in width.

The pins were the only items Isoken chose to look at, to prevent her from retching in disgust. The sole reason being that who the pins held up was a material of colours and exposed flesh. A mass of luscious cleavage; aired so well that male clients will think nothing of buying into well-served proposals, clearly unashamed at what they were obviously paying for. Bare thighs which could loosen the heart of the shrewdest business man, merged with a face made for the singular purpose of seduction. This evil on pins, as Isoken thought it to be, was Jacqueline, her hirer. A woman who thought her business to be the only affiliation there is and there should ever be, a sentiment which was extended to her employees.