Date: Sat, 15 Jan 2011 12:18:47 -0600
From: niftyanswers@gmail.com
Subject: The Cult: Chapter one: The Big Shock

Disclaimer:

This is a story of fiction. If you aren't allowed to read this due to the
laws of your area, or to your age, reading it will be your responsibility
and not mine. If that is the case, I strongly advise you to stop reading
now. In the fictional world my story describes, 18 is the legal age for
doing anything, from sex to drugs. Other usual disclaimers apply.

Prologue:


"I love your hairy chest! It's so manly! I feel like heaven when I lean on
it and fall sleep, still with the taste of your cum in my mouth and my ass"

He laughed a strong laugh.

"You can't taste my cum in your ass"

I smiled an honest smile. I was as happy as I could remember ever being.

"It's almost as if I could. It feels just as fulfilling as if I were eating
it"

He laughed once again and then said:

"Then let's give your ass some more tasting to do." And just before pushing
his cock into my wet, already used ass, he said with a smile "I love you,
son. I'm glad you decided to come anyway."

Chapter 1: The big shock

I always thought of myself as straight. The thought of being gay, in the
slightest bit, never crossed my mind. I had a steady girlfriend ever since
I was 12 and we started having sex when I turned 14. I enjoyed it quite a
lot, and I loved her deeply (or at least that's what I used to think, cause
now, when I look back to it, I realize that I didn't know real love nor
pleasure back then). I am 18 years old now. I live in a nice three-bedroom
house in the suburbs with my mom, my stepfather and my half sister Katy
(she's the daughter of my mom and Mike, her husband). I get along pretty
well with all of them. We obviously have our fights, but overall, I love my
mom, my little sis and, hell, I even dare to say I love Mike. The big guy
was there all along ever since three months after my parents got a
divorce. My father, although he never actually left me alone and always
somewhat supported me, wasn't much of a father per se. I went by to his
place every other weekend, as well as spent the summer with him in his
beach house, but he never represented the fatherly figure one would expect
from one's old man.  He usually didn't spend much time with me when I went
by to his place. He never even referred to me as his son (he called me by
my name: James). And he never seemed to like having me around, like I was
some sort of inconvenience for his life, as if I was making him have to
stop doing his regular stuff. Nevertheless, I somehow liked going to his
place cause there I could be alone for while and do my thing (mostly
jerking off and watching porn when I was younger, but now I just drank some
beer and smoked some weed while watching TV).

Six months ago, my girlfriend Sarah decided that I wasn't enough for her
and dumped me, only two days before my birthday. I was devastated. All I
wanted to do was cry in my room, surrounded by pitch darkness. And
actually, that was pretty much what I did for a week. I skipped school and
just stayed in there crying. My parents (mom and Mike) didn't thought much
of my absence since I never really had dinner with them (my stomach didn't
agree with nighttime food, so I usually didn't eat after 5) and we were
Jehovah's Witnesses, so we didn't celebrate birthdays. However, when my
father called to say he was picking me up at six o'clock for my weekend
visit, Mike went upstairs and saw me in bed. I was shower-less since a week
before, my face was all swollen, and I was still sobbing like a girl. He
forced me up, talked to me, advised me on how life moves on and how there
were plenty of fish in the sea, and finally, grabbed me a piece of food
from the kitchen before helping me get to the shower. I looked like shit,
even after the soap and water. I was pale from the lack of nourishment and
sun, my eyes were very red and I actually looked a little reluctant to go
to my father's house feeling like this, you could tell from my face that I
didn't want to come.

On the trip home, my dad didn't even notice my state, or otherwise ignored
it if he did. However, when we got there and I went straight to bed without
doing anything else, he followed me to my room.

"James, are you ok?" he asked sounding strangely interested.

"Yes, dad. I'm fine. Now go away."

"James, that is no way to talk to your father."

I jumped as if I had suddenly caught fire. It was probably the first time
he ever said out loud anything that led to believe he was my father. He
decided to ignore my surprise.

"Sorry, dad. It's just that I'm going through a rough time" I said. I never
spoke to him about my life, but something about him acknowledging his
fatherhood made me do it. "Sarah just dumped me, and I feel like shit".

"I know how you feel, son." Again I jumped a little bit. "When your mother
decided to quit our marriage, I felt like I wanted to die. All I did was
drink and drink until I felt nothing at all. At some point, I even started
getting high on morphine just to feel numbness and cease the pain".

My parents had never explained to me the reason of their divorce. Just
right then, I was coming to know that it was my mom who decided to finish
their relationship. Still, I was more interested in how my dad pulled
himself together than I was in hearing about their breakup.

"So, dad. How did you pull yourself together? Cause, honestly, I have never
seen you show any sign of vulnerability or any other feelings for that
matter".

He smiled very subtly. "Well, son. I haven't really been very close to you
ever, specially since I moved out, but when Mike called and told me your
story..." So that was why he hadn't seem to notice my state. Was that also
the reason he was acting so weird? "...I couldn't stop myself from relating
to it. He says that Sarah told you she just wasn't into you anymore?"

I nodded.

"Exactly what your mother said to me. I seem to be reliving the story
through you".

There was an awkward pause. He was smiling to me, trying to be comforting,
but it made everything even more uncomfortable. I wasn't used to being
treated like that by him,

"So, dad. How did you get over it? You didn't answer to me before".

It took a long time for him to answer.

"You're 18 now, right?"

I nodded with a puzzled look. What did it have to do with anything.

"Well, son. I might as well show you how I did it. Why don't you get
dressed for going out and I'll meet you in the car in 5 minutes".

I didn't feel like doing anything, but the way in which he was acting
intrigued me very much.

----------------------o------------------------

Dad drove through places I had never seen before. After 20 minutes of
driving, the scenery started looking very rural. I asked him several times
where we were going, but he only told me to be patient and to be very open
minded. I was starting to get scared, cause I had no idea at all where we
were going and he was acting really weird. To be honest, I knew nothing of
whom my dad was or what he did in his free time. He could be driving me to
a crack house just as much as we could be going to Disneyland. I was
getting frightened.

One hour of driving later, my father parked his car in front of an
abandoned looking house. Suddenly, the idea of a crack house became more
realistic. I was really getting scared. However, there were a lot of cars
parked out front, by the sides of the road, and they didn't seem cheap at
all, so it didn't seem like a crack house. My dad told me to follow him,
and right before entering, he stopped and looked at me.

"Son, I tell you once more that you have to be very open minded. What you
will find inside this place might seem really weird and shocking to you at
first, but I promise that you will love the experience by the end of it. I
tell you, this is the only thing that helped me get over your mom. The
roughness of it is just..." He didn't finish his sentence.

Now I was scared. Roughness? WTF? Still, I didn't want to cross him. It
seemed like we were finally bonding somehow, as weird and out of the blue
as it was. And, although I never admitted it to anyone, I always wanted to
have a relationship with him that meant more that living in his house while
he was out.

"James, swallow this before we get in" he said while he handed me a small
green pill. I was reluctant. It all became freakier every minute. "Do it.
It'll help with the swelling in your face."

I did it and followed him into the house. One step. Two steps. The door.
The front hall. And then I lost consciousness.

----------------------o------------------------

The first thing i remember from waking up was the voice of a man. I was
blindfolded and my hands were tied behind my back. I was kneeling on the
floor, and I could feel my skin bare against it. I was naked except for
what felt like a jockstrap and the blindfold. I couldn't speak, although i
wasn't gagged.

"Don't be such a pussy, Mark! Treat him like a bitch!" said the voice. I
could hear another man grunting, and what sounded like slapping. There were
other manly voices cheering, they sounded like they were surrounding me. I
couldn't move. I was just kneeling and couldn't do anything to change my
position. My cock was hard, I could feel it. The slapping became faster and
harder. The grunts got stronger. A good three minutes later, there was a
very terrifying breathing sound and a scream coming from the same
direction. The voice of the scream started moaning, as well. It seemed like
he was the one being slapped, and he was actually enjoying the slapping.
With every slap there was a moan and a groan. The voice tried to talk but
the words came out as babbling. All of a sudden, the grunting man made an
animal sound, he breathed deeply, the other voice moaned even harder and
then a sound of flesh collapsing on the floor came from their
direction. The cheering got louder. The men were now screaming out of
joy. The first voice I heard was now laughing hard.

"That was quite a show, Mark" said the voice. The men agreed soundly.

I felt, all of a sudden, a hand touching my wrist. "This one is up, Ted" It
shouted from behind me. "He's awake and ready."

The men cheered joyfully.

"Well, seems like we have our next one" screamed Ted, the voice that had
told Mark to "treat him like a bitch". I got terrified. What was happening?
I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I felt like crying, but couldn't. How
could my father do this to me? I didn't want to get slapped. What kind of
sick man was he? How could this help him get over mom? Was he a satanist of
some sort? Was this a cult?

The man that had announced my being awake lifted me up the floor and
brought me to a really lit place. Even through the blindfold I could see
the light. The screams also sounded louder. It seemed like I was now under
a spotlight in the center of some circus. I couldn't think much about it
cause soon Ted spoke again.

"Now, let's bring out our next man" The men went crazy. "Come out, Tom!" I
could hear a grunting man coming towards me from a distance. As he grew
nearer I could even smell him. He was very sweaty and dirty. I could feel
tremendous heat emanating from him. The man positioned himself behind me
and his grunting grew louder. He seemed crazy, like he was out of his mind.
He grunted and moved a lot and seemed like he couldn't breath well. As I
got even more scared, he very violently moved me into an all fours
position. And then, I felt something very strange. He spat and I felt his
wet hand touching my ass very roughly. He then spat uncontrollably onto my
asshole 5 or six times, every time spitting out a huge load of saliva onto
me. Then, even more violently, he penetrated my asshole with his finger and
started moving it in and out very fast. I felt violated, it hurt a lot and
I felt even more like crying. Ten minutes passed of this and then pain
slowly went away. But it was very brief, for he inserted three more fingers
all at once into my asshole. It burned. It hurt like hell, but for some
reason that made my cock get even harder. He kept on penetrating me and the
men around me cheered even louder. I couldn't breathe well. I though I was
going to pass out. Suddenly, Ted spoke again.

"Go ahead, Jonah. Remove his blindfold. Let him see for himself how honored
he should be."

With Tom still finger fucking me, another man came near me and removed the
piece of cloth over my eyes. A big light filled them and I went blind for a
second. When I finally adjusted to the light, I saw something shocking.
Hundreds of men standing around me in what looked like a huge basement. All
of them wearing only jockstraps. Many were jacking off. They were all about
40 something. They screamed and shouted. Ted, dressed alike, holding a
microphone in his hands, was big, hairy, and bald. Everyone was sweaty, it
was very hot in there. I was in the middle of it all and I couldn't do
anything. I, at once, realized that the slapping from before wasn't really
that. A man was fucking another Kid, I was sure of it. The worst part: I
was next!

Just as I thought that, Tom removed his fingers from my ass. Still grunting
violently and moving rather convulsively, he spat on my ass again and then
I felt something huge probing my hole. I knew it was his cock. It entered
me fast, all at once. He couldn't control himself. He was derailed with
lust and i was sure he was also drugged. He started fucking me very fast
and hard and I moved forward and backwards about three inches with every
thrust, due to his force. I felt like his cock was reaping me apart inside
out. I felt out of air and like I was passing out again, when suddenly, I
was able to scream.

The sound came out monstrous. It was the most horrible scream I had ever
screamed. But as I let it out, the pain somehow went all away and I started
feeling tremendous pleasure instead. With ever trust of Tom's hips I felt
like I was having an orgasm. It felt amazing. I never wanted it to stop. I
was petrified of how I was feeling about being fucked by another man. Was
it the drugs? I couldn't control myself. I was moaning loudly and
convulsing. I was in ecstasy. When I recovered the movement of my neck, I
looked behind me and an even bigger shock hit me. As I turned, I saw Tom.
Muscular, very hairy, sweaty, his eyes white, saliva drooling through the
side of his mouth. But that wasn't the biggest shock. I was most surprised
because I knew him. He wasn't called Tom, but Robert. I tried to talk and
the sound came out like babbling. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I also
wanted him to keep going. You wonder why? The reason was imple: he was my
father. I was getting fucked crazy by my father, and I was having the best
time of my life.