Secret sex club in church - Pastor’s wife organises wild after-church activities for bored women
Every week, after the sanctuary empties and the pastor goes home, his wife, Candy*, stays behind.
What happens next, she insists, is not sin but "ministry", albeit of a sexual nature. Inside the same church where sermons of obedience and restraint are preached, Candy runs a secret sex club for women who feel their marriages -- or their lives -- lack passion. For the past five years, she has led structured prayer and counselling sessions at a mid-sized church. But behind closed doors, those sessions turn into something crazy.
The group, sometimes consisting of up to 25 women, engage in orgies with men recruited by Candy. Female participants are required to make financial contributions for their sinful pleasure, while also giving handsomely to the church's building fund.
"I didn't see what I was doing as sin," Candy said about the creation of the sex club in the church. "I saw it as ministry -- meeting women where they were, and dealing with realities the church prefers not to talk about."
The activity was never documented, never discussed, never written down. It relied entirely on implication, selective invitation, and silence.
"In practice, what I organised wasn't counselling in the traditional sense," Candy admitted. "The gathering happened after church and involved consensual sexual activity -- all kinds of sexual activities you can think of," she told THE WEEKEND STAR.
One former member, Mariah*, said she was drawn to the secret club because her bedroom had become boring.
"In my marriage, intimacy had started to feel transactional," she said. "It was expected, not shared."
However, the activities in the church building provided her with sinful pleasure. It blew her mind beyond expectations.
"These encounters lasted longer, they were more passionate, more exploratory," she said. "We do things I'd never imagine could be done. I have been taught things I never imagined existed... with straps and whips-- just wild stuffs," she said.
Like the other women in the church sex club, Mariah said her journey to the dark room was unplanned. In fact, she went to Candy for counselling.
"We were talking about faith, then loneliness, then the parts of marriage nobody in church ever asks you about," she related.
A caged animal in her was dying to come out. It wanted to experience something more than the missionary drag being experienced at home. And so she acted.
"I was tired of carrying the image of being a 'good Christian wife' while feeling emotionally and physically disconnected at home," Mariah said.
Candy participates in the same system she organises.
"I wasn't standing outside of it," she said. "I used it, too. In my mind, that mattered."
The pastor's wife says her ministry grew out of the role she already occupied within the church.
"I handle women's counselling, spiritual mentorship, and follow-up prayer," she said.
"Women would come to me talking about their marriages and relationships. They were faithful doing everything the church asks, but they were all sexually frustrated and ashamed to say it out loud. The church has no language for that. Closed doors, confidential conversations, irregular hours, that was normal. That role gave me access, and it gave me cover."
She added, "All we talk about is restraint and submission, we don't talk about desire, satisfaction and agency. I believe ignoring that reality was doing more harm than addressing it. I created a very safe space for these women."
She described a consistent routine following regular services.
"Everything shifted away from the main sanctuary into side rooms," Candy said.
"Women left in staggered intervals so it wouldn't draw attention. The pastor usually left early, probably tired, while the women's ministry continued late into the evening."
Candy said secrecy was necessary to protect both her husband and the church, arguing that disclosure would have "destroyed his ministry, his faith, and his sense of purpose".
She said participation was never framed as a direct invitation.
"It unfolded through conversation," she said. "I listened when women talked about money stress, emotional neglect, unstable relationships ... I didn't see it as recruitment. To me, it was intervention," she said.
Both Candy and Mariah stressed that all participants were adults and that involvement was voluntary. Still, Candy acknowledged the influence inherent in her position.
"I won't pretend influence didn't exist," she said. "Spiritual authority carries weight."
That authority extended into financial expectations. Candy acknowledged that money was exchanged for the sexual favours provided by men she recruited. She said the church benefited indirectly through tithes and offerings, with specific amounts understood as accountability.
"In my mind," she said, "that contribution legitimised the work as ministry, not exploitation."
According to Mariah, the men involved were sourced discreetly from outside the congregation and were never integrated into church life. They were not introduced during services and did not linger on church grounds.
Candy said no one was forced to participate, and that no one left because of the arrangement. Mariah echoed that there was no overt coercion, while acknowledging the difficulty of separating consent from influence.
"Looking back," Candy said, "I understand how silence can be mistaken for agreement."
Candy said she still believes she was responding to a need the church often refuses to acknowledge.
"I don't regret wanting to help," she said. "I question the way I chose to do it."
*Names changed to protect identities












