Date: Sun, 3 Jan 2021 20:29:25 +0100
From: Daniel Comnenus <daniel.comnenus@gmx.com>
Subject: Sex Cult Confessions (part 10)

SEX CULT CONFESSIONS (10)

By Dolphin Dan


We checked into the Intercontinental Hotel on Thursday evening for the
extended session of my punishment. Friday was the first full day. Both
Jeremy and Bryan worked, and the day began early. They were sleeping naked
in the king sized bed and I was in a portable roll-away bed situated
horizontally a few feet away from the bed. I heard the buzzing of an alarm
clock at 6:15 and woke up but shrugged it off and went back to sleep. A few
minutes later Jeremy was shaking me awake. He was still naked, leaning on
his cane, standing over the roll-away bed. "Take off your underwear," he
commanded. I reached under the covers, slid off my boxer briefs and handed
them to him. Just as he said he would do, he inspected them carefully and
even sniffed the crotch. He dropped them back on the bed. "Good boy. No
stains. Come into the bathroom, you're going to shower with me."

Jeremy made me kneel in the shower and told me I was not to stand up under
any circumstances. The water was uncomfortably warm for me but I wasn't
allowed to talk so I couldn't say anything. He had his cane in the shower
with him to help prop himself up. After he washed his hair and body he
handed me the soap. He didn't even have to give me instructions. His penis
had grown slightly longer and fuller as he washed the soap off his chubby
pecs. As he gave me the soap his dick achieved about a three-quarters
erection. I got a lot of lather on my hands and started fondling him. I
touched his balls first, smearing frothy white foam all over the hairy,
fleshy eggs. His penis not only got the rest of the way hard but pulsed a
bit with each heartbeat, twitching a tiny fraction of an inch upwards which
was the hallmark of a supercharged erection. All he said was, "Don't get
any soap on my tip. It stings." I closed both of my lathered hands around
his throbbing shaft. He groaned and had to steady himself with his cane. I
masturbated him quickly and forcefully. My own dick was rock hard but I
didn't dare touch it. I think he was surprised at how well I did him and I
was thrilled that I could still give Jeremy unexpectedly good pleasure. He
looked down, his mouth open in mid-gasp, and his dick started to buck like
a steer in my hands. I took six or eight hard jets of Jeremy's sperm
straight into my face. He sighed, turned and started washing the soap out
of his groin. Jeremy's cum, mixed with the lather of the soap, spiraled
down the large drain.

Before he had even got out of the shower a fleshy-colored shadow fell over
the frosted glass shower door. Bryan knocked softly. "I really got to get
in there and get going." Jeremy said he was just finishing. He told me to
stay where I was. Shutting off the water, he opened the shower door. "Nice
little assembly line," he smiled at Bryan. To me he said, "Do to Bryan
exactly what you just did to me." He reached for a towel with one hand and
stepped out of the shower with his cane in the other. Bryan got in, closed
the door and started the water. "Shit! Way too hot." He turned down the
heat. "Is that okay?" I gave him a thumbs up.

Bryan came even quicker than Jeremy had. I knew it was good for him because
he was groaning and almost squirming. His dick felt like concrete in my
hands. He must have been jonesing for an orgasm really hard; after their
sex last night Jeremy hadn't done anything to make him cum, at least not so
far as I heard. His ejaculation shot like a fleet of pearly white liquid
cruise missiles right at my face. I was hanging on to Bryan's balls as he
emptied them. I was so turned on that I was afraid for a little while that
I might cum myself even without having touched my dick. If I had, I could
probably trust Bryan not to tell Jeremy about it and get me in
trouble. This was the first episode of trust between me and Bryan. I have
to admit I really enjoyed these two little episodes in the shower. Bryan
and I toweled off together after we got out of the shower. He even felt
comfortable enough around me to stand there in front of the toilet and take
a piss in front of me. He yawned and scratched his ass as he did so.

Out in the main room Jeremy was dressed for work, sitting on the bed and
tying the shoe on the end of his mechanical leg. "You know the rules while
we're gone," he said, but he went over them just the same. I was not to
leave the room. Bryan and Jeremy had only two key cards between them so I
didn't even have a key. No TV, no radio, no communication with the outside
world. He had my cell phone and he was going to take it with him and he
said he was also going to take the TV remote with him. The drapes had to
stay completely closed. I could not touch the room phone. Jeremy had
already told the front desk our room didn't need cleaning and to leave
fresh towels outside the door. I was allowed to wear underwear but no other
clothes. I could adjust the thermostat to whatever I wanted. He said it was
too risky to allow me to shower or take a bath because the temptation to
touch myself was too great, but I'd basically already had one. He also told
me that, from his work, he would call room service at exactly 12 noon and
order lunch for me. He'd instruct the hotel staff to bring it on a tray,
leave it outside the door and knock. I was to wait a little while, so
whoever brought the food would be gone by the time I opened the door and I
wouldn't have to interact with them. He expected to see the tray and the
plates in the room when he returned. "Oh yeah, one other thing," he
said. "I almost forgot." He got up and went back to the bathroom; Bryan was
out by now, putting on his clothes and getting ready for work.

He was in there for a few minutes and returned, toweling off his
hands. "Don't flush the toilet," he told me. "Go if you have to, but don't
flush." He had taken a dump in there and expected to see his shit still in
the toilet when he returned at the end of the day. This too was another
means of preventing infractions. It meant I couldn't, for example, jack off
into a wad of toilet paper and flush it. Bryan, who overheard these
instructions, wrinkled his nose. "Dude, that is fucking disgusting." Jeremy
flashed him a dirty look and he didn't say any more. They got their things,
gathered up the key cards and left the hotel. On the score card pad, left
on a table in the sitting room area, two more hash marks were
visible. Bryan now had two and Jeremy one. Nine to go.

Honestly, the first few hours after they left was pretty damned nice. I was
in a high-priced suite in a very nice hotel, for which I didn't have to
pay, and I didn't have to go to work or worry about anything. I lay in the
king-sized bed and relaxed for a long time. I was curious if there was any
trace of last night's sex, and indeed a certain section of the sheets
smelled like the oil Jeremy used during sex--I'd had it used on me often
enough--and I also found small cum stains, Jeremy's, which had apparently
leaked out of Bryan's ass after he pulled out. If I hadn't been forbidden
to masturbate I probably would have laid there with my face in the sheet,
sniffing the stains and stroking myself to orgasm. I was still that hot
over Jeremy. As it was I laid in their bed for a long time, eventually grew
drowsy and took a nap. When I woke up it was 11:30, almost lunch time.

Lunch was excellent too. Jeremy ordered me a burger, fries and two Heineken
beers, delivered by room service in exactly the way he said. Due to the
beers I did eventually have to piss. I'd been dreading having to go to the
bathroom. Sure enough there was a small log floating in the toilet, the
water now brown. It stank. I worshipped Jeremy, but honestly, having to
look at his shit and smell it was a little rich for my taste. Flushing
after taking a piss was such an automatic gesture that I had to tell myself
not to do it.

After lunch, though, the time really started to crawl. The only reading
material in the room was the cable channel guide, the phone book, the guest
services book and a Gideon Bible in one of the drawers. I started reading
it. That's how bored I was, reading the Bible.

When it seemed like an eternity had passed but the clock on the bedside
table said only 2:12 PM, that was when I started to have doubts. This was
not the first moment of clarity in my dealings with Jeremy, but it was
certainly the first one I paid any serious attention to. I realized how
ridiculous this was. I was a 28-year-old man, sitting there in my underwear
reading the Bible in a totally silent hotel room in downtown L.A. in the
middle of the day with the curtains drawn. That was the ridiculous part and
it might have been pretty funny if it was a scene in a comedy movie. But
the reality was that there were ugly things about this scene too. There
were permanent scars on my back. I was afraid to flush the toilet. I was
essentially being held prisoner. I was being used as a human cum rag, a
mild form of sexual slavery. My crime was making fun of my boyfriend's
movie script at a party while I was drunk. And for the privilege of being
punished like this I had given up my job, my paycheck, my health insurance
and possibly my cat. I had done all of this willingly and voluntarily. What
rational human being gets himself into a position like this?

It also occurred to me that possibly letting Jeremy have my cell phone
might not have been too smart. This was 2006 and it wasn't customary to
lock phones with PIN numbers or swipe codes the way they do now. My entire
text history was on that phone. If he examined it, he would undoubtedly
discover that I'd been fucking Dack, as he and I occasionally sent explicit
messages to each other and there were plenty of texts like, "Want to come
over?" He'd never expressly forbidden me to see anyone else, but I was
afraid this might anger him or cause him to punish Dack as well. I thought
to myself, "It's okay. Jeremy just took my phone to make sure I didn't call
anyone. He won't go through it." But deep down I wasn't sold on this. In
fact, I was absolutely certain that Jeremy would go through my phone. How
did I know that? Because he was a control freak, and he was already
suspicious of me. If he was looking for more reasons to get mad at me, he
would certainly find them. I had to hope that nothing he found there would
set him off.

This was a surprising thought. I realized that I was afraid of Jeremy
K. Again, as sure as a reflex action, the justifications poured down on top
of this thought. "I love Jeremy!" and "He's the smartest and sexiest man
I've ever known!" and "He's never hurt me!" That last one was an obvious
lie. Perhaps shoving a dildo tied to a tree branch up my ass could be
forgiven in light of how even thinking of that experience gave me a raging
hard-on. But if he'd never hurt me, why were there pink stripes on my back?

I didn't get too far with these thoughts. These were bad drooie. That's all
it was, just bad drooie rumbling around in my head. That's what this
weekend was supposed to do, clear out all the bad drooie. Jeremy moved in
mysterious ways but he had always been right and he knew what was best for
me. I had only to trust in him, obey my instructions and everything would
be all right. As soon as I thought this, a door clicked shut in my mind and
again I was content, if still bored. I went back to the Bible and tried not
to think about bad drooie.

Jeremy and Bryan got back later than I expected, about 7. Jeremy went
around inspecting the room, the lunch dishes, the toilet (which he finally
flushed, thank God), the bed sheets, and asked me to take off my underwear
again for inspection. After he was done he stood scowling in front of me,
arms folded across his thick chest, his sea-green eyes needling into
me. Then a smile cracked his face. "C'mere," he said. He gave me a big bear
hug. "You are doing good. So good! You're learning your lesson, aren't
you?" I said yes, I certainly was. Jeremy was in a very good mood. He said
we should go out for dinner and told me to get dressed and I could come
along. As I was getting dressed Jeremy got a series of texts on his cell
phone, from who I don't know. He suddenly changed his mind about going to
dinner but said to Bryan and me, "You guys go ahead. Go anywhere you
want. Bryan, make sure Dan behaves himself." He left pretty much
immediately. He put the hotel TV remote on the table before he left.

Bryan and I did go out. We went to a very highbrow Mexican restaurant
within walking distance of the hotel, in the heart of the downtown. It was
a long wait to get in but I had a margarita while waiting and soon I was
buzzed. Bryan clearly didn't care about any of the terms of my
punishment. It was actually really nice to get to know him as a person. We
never talked about Jeremy or the group or Jeremy's philosophy. Bryan talked
mostly about his junior year abroad in Japan, where he'd had a boyfriend
named Michianao. I got the sense that maybe he wasn't as firmly attached to
Jeremy's cult as I was or as others were. It wasn't until we were walking
back that Bryan said something that crushed me. "He met someone, you
know. Someone new. A girl. Her name is Keora. She's Hawaiian. That's who he
went off to see tonight." He added, almost as an afterthought: "She's 17."

I can't believe I had the balls to ask him: "Are you jealous?"

"I'm trying not to be."

The rest of the evening was sedate. Bryan and I got some beers and just
watched movies in the room. I wondered if he wanted to do something sexual
but I was afraid to ask or even say anything. I assumed the rules were that
when I was in the hotel room I was supposed to be totally silent.

Jeremy came in past midnight. Both Bryan and I were in bed, not with each
other; I was in the roll-away. The first thing he did was to take a
shower. I knew instantly that he'd been fucking that girl, Keora, whoever
she was. He came out naked except for a towel around him, using his
cane. The lights were off except for the light in the bathroom. He shook
Bryan awake. "Hey. Hey, Bryan, wake up." He stirred. They had a brief
conversation about whether I'd behaved and Bryan said I had. Then Jeremy
told him to get naked and sit on the edge of the bed. He told me to get out
of my bed and kneel on the floor underneath the foot of the bed. Jeremy
dropped his towel and also sat on the bed. I was obviously being put in
position to catch Bryan's cum in my face.

Jeremy then did a thing that was a little unusual but struck a chord with
me. Bryan was sitting up on the edge of the king-sized bed, his legs
spread, feet touching the carpet and I was down there kneeling underneath
him. Jeremy, also sitting up, spread his thighs and scooted right up
against Bryan. His chubby belly was pressed against Bryan's lower back and
his thighs straddled Bryan's ass. With his left hand Jeremy reached over
and began playing with Bryan's balls. After a few seconds, waiting for him
to get hard, he reached around with his right hand and started masturbating
him. Bryan sighed, tipped his head back and met Jeremy's lips but they only
kissed for a few seconds. I'm sure this position has a name but I have no
idea what it is. It struck me, though, because it was in this exact
position that Patrick first jacked me off at age 11. I even remember what
he said. "I'll get behind you and do it for you." Jeremy was using Bryan as
his surrogate penis. It was probably because he had no cum left to give for
the evening, having pumped it into Keora perhaps less than an hour ago.

With a shudder and a soft groan Bryan came on my face. When he was still
and his labored breathing returned to normal Jeremy snatched up the towel
from his shower, still wet, and tossed it down to me. "Clean up, get in
your bed and go to sleep." Bryan, who slept in silk boxers and a tank top
T-shirt, rooted around for his clothes and got under the covers. Within a
few minutes Jeremy was snoring. There was a strange feeling in the room. I
knew Bryan was still awake and he had to know I was. I wondered if he felt
betrayed. I was starting to.

I did not know it yet but this was my last night in Jeremy's cult.

More to come...



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