Date: Sun, 10 Jan 2021 20:39:19 +0100
From: Daniel Comnenus <daniel.comnenus@gmx.com>
Subject: Sex Cult Confessions (part 12)

SEX CULT CONFESSIONS (12)

By Dolphin Dan


This is the final chapter of the story of my involvement with the group
surrounding "Jeremy K.," a group that I believe was a sex cult. Thanks to
the compassion, bravery and loyalty of my friend April I managed to
escape. I never saw, spoke to or had any contact with Jeremy K. again. My
last sight of him was walking out of the punishment room at the
Intercontinental Hotel with Bryan as they went off to a movie, oblivious
that I was finally on the verge of breaking. I often wondered what his
reaction was to getting back to the hotel and finding me gone. I did
eventually find out, but it was years later and only indirectly.

I did get my job back. It turned out I was only gone for that one day,
Friday, and half of Thursday. I told my boss that I'd had a mental
breakdown which was largely true. I was put on sort of a probation, but
after a while the incident was forgotten. Thank God I didn't lose my
livelihood or my health insurance over Jeremy. That I was willing to do
that, and it seemed a rational trade to me, was truly shocking when I
thought back on it. Toward the end I was really deluded.

It was a long road back for me. When I left that hotel room on February 11,
2006 I had no idea how much being in Jeremy's cult had totally fucked with
my head. April, whom I eventually moved in with (as a roommate, there was
nothing romantic between us), told me she thought I had PTSD and it soon
became obvious she was right. During the time I was with him I was never
really physically afraid of Jeremy, in the sense that I dreaded being in
his presence for fear that he would hurt me. It wasn't like that. But once
I got out I began having nightmares. I dreamed I saw his angry scowling
face, that he was enraged that I'd left him and that he'd come back to take
a terrible revenge, usually with a whip. Though he never behaved with anger
or open aggression around me in real life it was clear that I was deeply
afraid of him on a subconscious level. These dreams never really went
away. My cat Minerva lived a long life but she finally got very old and
frail and had to be put down in 2016. The night I came back from the vet
after doing that I had a terrible nightmare involving Jeremy. Then when the
COVID-19 pandemic began in 2020 and I was under severe stress I began
having nightmares about him again which persisted for several weeks. On
some level I'll probably remain fearful of him, or at least his image, for
the rest of my life.

But on the other hand my attraction to him also persisted, even if I got
over what I thought was my love for him in only a couple of weeks. I have
to tell you in all honesty that there's probably no one in my entire life
that I've ever fantasized about more often while masturbating than Jeremy
K., and most of it was in the months and years after I got out of the
cult. At first I felt guilty, being glad to be rid of him, afraid of him,
and then going to bed or being in the shower and cranking my shaft
furiously while imagining his thick penis plowing my ass or recalling the
low animalistic grunting of his mounting pleasure as he approached
orgasm. Sometimes sexual thoughts of Jeremy were so powerful that I had
only to fix my mind on him and then reach down and stroke myself for maybe
15 seconds before blowing a load. About two years after I was out of the
cult I had a brief relationship with a guy named Michael. It didn't work
out and the intensity of the sex dropped off after only a couple of
weeks. The last few times I was with him I actually fantasized about Jeremy
while I was fucking Michael. In fact that was what told me it was time to
break up with Michael. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't that I wanted to go
back to Jeremy. But the sexual power he had over me lasted a long, long
time.

After a while I started to feel like there was something empowering in
fantasizing about Jeremy all the time. The Jeremy in my head was different
than the real one. The one that fucked me in my fantasies and panted and
grunted in my ear from behind, the one whose dick filled me out and
stretched my butthole without a bit of pain, could never hurt me or
manipulate me. In a way I had tamed him. Eventually this is how I came to
think about it.

The scars on my back remained. There were really only three of them that
you could see without really knowing what you were looking for, three thin
lines of white scar tissue on the back of my shoulders. At first I was
afraid that I'd have to explain them to any man I was with from there on
out. And I was hesitant to take my shirt off in public, like at a pool or
on a hot day or something. As time went on I became less self-conscious
about it. None of my subsequent boyfriends asked about the scars.

In 2018, completely out of the blue, I received a Facebook friend request
from Bryan. I hadn't had any contact with him, or anyone from the cult, in
12 years. I didn't do anything with the request, neither accepting it nor
dismissing it. Looking at his profile I saw he seemed to be in a long term
relationship with a man and was living in New York City. He was still
devastatingly handsome. After a week or so he sent me a message, saying
only "There's a private group called Survivors of Jeremy K. I thought you
might like to join. I can invite you. Hope you're doing well." I finally
accepted his request and he sent me an invite. I was very hesitant to let
any of that back into my life but part of me was also very curious. I knew
nothing about what happened to Jeremy and deliberately avoided Googling his
name or trying to find out anything about him.

I was amazed and frankly a little horrified by what I saw in the "Survivors
of Jeremy K." group and what I learned from it. For one thing it had 42
members. I recognized the names of only a fraction of them. Many of them
were in the L.A. area but a lot were also from Washington state. The group
started when the #MeToo movement began the previous year and people began
to reconnect with one another and tell their stories. Shawn, Jeremy's
nephew, now almost 30, had started the group and he was the most vocal in
stating that he'd been victimized by his uncle. Though I hadn't known her I
recognized the name of Keora, the Hawaiian girl he was grooming to replace
Bryan and me. Sonia was also a member of the group. She'd had Jeremy's baby
back in 2006, a daughter, and when he rejected her--he had his heart set on
having a son--her parents and friends eventually got her out of the
cult. Dack, however, was missing. No one had heard from him in years. I was
universally known as "the guy who got whipped."

The most hair-raising stories told in the group came from Graham K.,
Jeremy's younger brother. He made a very long post one day, nearly 4,000
words, and it started, "I've never told anyone about this but I have to get
it off my chest. I feel responsible for everything." Graham, seven years
younger than Jeremy, told us that Jeremy had been bizarrely obsessed with
him since literally the day he was born. When their mother brought Graham
home from the hospital and let Jeremy hold his new baby brother he wouldn't
give him back. He wanted to be with him all the time, cried and raged when
they were separated and cuddled him physically in ways their parents
thought were unhealthy. While growing up Jeremy, he said, would follow him
into the bathroom or try to follow him to school. When Jeremy hit puberty
he started sleeping with Graham, meaning sleeping in his bed with him,
secretly every night. As a teenager Jeremy filled composition books with
poetry and cartoons depicting Graham as various mythological figures, Greek
statues, nymphs, etc. and all had a weird sexual undertone. They did
eventually have a sexual relationship when Graham was 13 and Jeremy
20. This creepy relationship went on for two years and Jeremy's obsessive
behavior grew worse, for example, flying into rages when Graham showed
interest in girls. Eventually Graham didn't want to do it anymore and told
him to leave him alone. Literally the next day Jeremy ran away to join the
Navy. I had not known that Jeremy was in the Navy, got out after four years
and later re-joined the service, the Army this time, after 9/11.

Graham thought that Jeremy was broken mentally by him breaking off their
sex play. But he also said that Jeremy was always strange, that he had a
super domineering control-freak side and then a grandiose imaginative and
mystical side where he made up stories about God, the universe and
everything and tried to put himself at the center of them. After Graham
quit talking to him Jeremy apparently had several other male favorites,
some of whom were in the group, whom he apparently used to try to replace
Graham. Shawn, being a young male relative, was Graham reincarnated. Shawn
told us that the whole reason Jeremy started the group was to get people
around him who he could pressure into giving him, Shawn, sexual
favors. Then Shawn would be motivated to repay this "kindness" by having
sex with Jeremy himself, which he did on numerous occasions. Getting his
leg blown off in Iraq apparently sharpened all the obsessions and anomalies
in Jeremy's personality and when he came back he just radiated this very
dark but charismatic intensity. People in the group said, almost
unanimously, that they would have done anything for Jeremy. Sonia said she
would have killed someone for him if he'd have asked her. No one should
have that much power over others.

Bryan told me what happened the day I left the cult. He said it was ironic
because Jeremy was planning to end my punishment and declare that I'd done
my penance, if I agreed voluntarily never to have sex with Dack again. As I
suspected he found out I'd been fucking Dack by reading my text messages on
my phone. He was going to call an end to the punishment as soon as they got
back to the hotel room after going to the movies and to lunch. Jeremy
noticed something was wrong when he tried to turn on my cell phone and
found it had been shut off. They went back to the hotel and found me
gone. He said Jeremy flew into a rage. "That little shit! That fucking
insolent bastard! He's going to pay for this!" He'd never seen him so
angry. Then, the next week, they had the fateful pitch meeting with Bryan's
father about the movie. They were laughed right out of the office. Jeremy
dropped out of sight for several days and apparently went on a bender,
which he sometimes did when things upset him. He went to alcohol rehab but
it didn't stick. After these events even speaking my name was taboo in the
group. He blamed me for setting up the bad drooie that resulted in the
movie pitch getting turned down. Apparently, years later, while he was
drunk, someone in the group claimed he heard Jeremy joke that he was going
to hire a hit man to kill me. Bryan stayed in Jeremy's orbit for another
six months before it got too crazy for him.

I know you're wondering what happened to Jeremy himself. At one point he
was arrested and charged with statutory rape. This was because he was
caught with a girl whom he thought was 17 but who was actually 14. This was
in about 2010. The case was dismissed on a technicality but he already left
California during the investigation and went back to Washington. At last
count he was living with a woman in a trailer park outside of Spokane. He'd
disowned his daughter, Sonia's child, and was delinquent on child
support. He was rumored to be an alcoholic and to have retreated into a
world of paranoid conspiracy theories. For example, he apparently believed
that the big war he predicted would begin in 2015 was actually going on but
the media refused to report on it. Someone in the group had seen him in
Spokane. He was grossly obese, nearly 400 pounds, and looked terrible. He
was arrested in Spokane on some minor charge and someone posted his mug
shot in the Facebook group. His hair was gray, his face puffy and his
sea-green eyes now hollow and blank. None of us took any pleasure in his
misfortune. I for one felt sorry for him.

I prefer to remember Jeremy as he was, or perhaps as he never was but what
I imagined him to be. He once blazed with charisma. He was energetic, sexy,
bold, imaginative, and so attractive that his very presence was
addictive. Some nights I still fantasize about him as he was then. It's
hard not to start stroking when I recall the way he was the very first
night we were together, when I was burning with desire for him. As I said
at the beginning, I find it hard to put a value judgment on my experience,
or on him. All I know is that I'm glad to be who I am now. Perhaps I
wouldn't be if not for my experiences with him, for whatever they're worth.

THE END


Check out some of my other stories, "My Elvish Boyfriend" and "Farm Planet
Adventures" are probably the most popular:
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