Bad Girl

By Natasha Koshkov

A judgmental church pastor has the tables turned on him when he finds himself inexplicably thrust into the body of the type of girl he'd usually cross the street to avoid associating with. Tatted, pierced and smoking like a chimney he struggles to come to terms with the curveball life's thrown him. With a little help from her neighbour, could there be a chance for this bad girl to find redemption?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natasha Koshkov
• Release date: Jul 4, 2015

Natasha Koshkov

Natasha Koshkov is a budding erotica author from Brisbane in sunny Australia. After a brief period as a professional nomad she decided to settle down and get a real job. Increasingly desperate for ways to employ her filthy mind, she has since turned her hand to writing erotic fiction. Natasha specialises in transformation stories, particularly gender and personality swaps. Please remember to leave reviews if you enjoy a story! If you'd like to make a comment or suggestion I can always be reached at natasha-koshkov.com/contact If you'd like to hear more please consider signing up for my newsletter at http://natasha-koshkov.com/newsletter/

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Bad Girl

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Copyright 2015 Natasha Koshkov

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1: Loiterer

It had been a good day. The flock tended to swell around this time of year. A lot of new faces. Most of them would have moved on to other pastures and other pastors by the end of the month, but it always felt good to preach to a full house. Everything was packed up neatly where it belonged and the last of his helpers had bid him goodnight half an hour ago. All that remained was to lock up and go home. It had been a very satisfactory service.

The final circuit took him past the doors. He locked each one on autopilot. After a few years here he knew the old building like the body of a lover. With the main doors bolted he threw the keys in his pocket and headed to the side exit into the car park. There was no better job in the world than this one. A life lived in the service of god was a beautiful thing. That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t breathe a sigh of relief when he got to leave at the end of a long day. As he stepped out into the car park he noticed a figure hunched against the wall. Seconds later the stench of cigarette smoke reached his nose. It was a disgusting, dirty habit. The pastor had seen more than a few otherwise good men and women fall prey to it, but for the most part it was a vice that he associated with degenerates. In the evening light he could tell this was the sort of person who broke none of his presuppositions. As he drew closer the young woman turned to