Date: Mon, 30 Nov 2020 17:47:20 +0100 From: Daniel Comnenus Subject: Sex Cult Confessions (part 3) SEX CULT CONFESSIONS (3) By Dolphin Dan This is the continuing story about my association with "Jeremy K." and the group around him, which I eventually came to realize was a cult. We're not there yet. Maybe you've seen a couple of warning signs crop up so far; if you did see them, you're more perceptive than I was. This happened 15 years ago, by the way, in the mid 2000s and in the L.A. area. Jeremy and I continued texting frequently during the week following the party in Palos Verdes where he first "took" me, to use his word. The morning after, Saturday, he sent several explicit texts referring to it. YOUR BUTT IS SERIOUSLY WORLD CLASS! was one of them which made me laugh out loud. I MEAN IT, I HAVEN'T CUM THAT HARD IN A LONG TIME. UR SO TIGHT! Over the next few days he sent several more texts complimenting me on my ass and what it felt like to fuck it. Then on Tuesday he said, U LIKE CAMPING? I'D LOVE 2 GET U OUT AND TAKE YOUR BUTT SOMEWHERE OUT IN THE WILDERNESS. My idea of camping was a hotel with only two stars, but I said sure, that sounded like fun. I thought it was just an idle thought. Then he texted me on Thursday and I learned that Jeremy did not have idle thoughts. WE R CAMPING AT SESPE HOT SPRINGS THIS WKND, he said. I GOT TENT EXTRA SLPNG BAG & WILL BRING FOOD ETC. CAN U BE READY FRIDAY RIGHT AFTER WORK TIME? I'd never even heard of this place he mentioned. He said it was about two hours away, north of Fillmore and east of Ojai. That still meant nothing to me. I had plans that weekend. April and a mutual friend of ours, Todd, had planned to go out drinking, the first time in months. I told Jeremy this and asked if we could move the camping trip to next weekend. NO, WE HAVE 2 DO IT THIS WKND, he wrote back. U NEED 4WD TO GET UP THERE & I HAVE TO BORROW SISTER'S TRUCK. U CAN GO OUT WITH FRIENDS ANY TIME RITE? Actually we couldn't. Todd, who was going to graduate school in Boston, was back only for this coming weekend. I explained this to Jeremy and reiterated that I really wanted to go, but there was this scheduling problem. His response was: U WANT TO CHOOSE BOOZING W YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS OVER BEING W ME, OK. BYE FOR GOOD. SHAME, U REALLY DO HAVE A GREAT BUTT! This was the first thing Jeremy did that made me uncomfortable. It seemed awfully petty, and the mention of "little friends" was condescending. At my lunch break I tried calling Jeremy so we could talk it out but got his voice mail. I tried again a few hours later. A text soon arrived: DON'T CALL. I HATE TALKING ON PHONE. Then, about 10 minutes later: U READY TO APOLOGIZE? Me: I really want to go! But I haven't seen Todd in like 7 months. Won't your sister lend you her truck next weekend? J: NO. IT'S ALREADY SET. BESIDES, U GOT MY DROOIE DOWN. WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO DOING U OUT IN THE WILDERNESS. GOT HARD THINKING BOUT IT. Me: I don't understand. What's drooie? J: IT'S WAT I GOT THAT U WANT. THAT & MY DICK. BUT MAYBE U DON'T WANT THAT NO MORE? Me: Of course I want it. Dude, you are being unreasonable. J: U COMING TO SESPE W ME THIS WKND OR NOT? ANSWER Y OR N. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING MORE FROM U THAN THAT. N = BYE 4EVER. I called April. She already knew I had it bad for Jeremy. I explained what was going on but tried to dress it up to sound more reasonable, that he was really desperate for me to go, this was the only weekend he could get the truck, and we were in a critical phase of our relationship. She saw through it immediately. "Danny, dump this guy," she said. "Kick him to the curb right now. How old did you say he was, 36? A 36-year-old man that acts this way has got serious issues. He's trying to see what you're willing to give up for him. This is classic gaslighting shit." For about 15 minutes I agonized. I really, really, really wanted to be with Jeremy. On the other hand I knew April was right. This behavior was unacceptable. It didn't help that I got a text from him: WELL? I felt like he was holding a gun to my head. I texted: Y. I got two texts in rapid succession. The first read, NOW THAT'S A GOOD BOY. YOUR DROOIE JUST WENT UP. The second, FRIDAY MORN AT 8:30 EXACTLY TEXT ME AN ADDRESS WHERE I CAN PICK U UP AT 5:30 EXACTLY. WE WILL NOT TALK TIL THEN. CAN'T WAIT. He finished this text off with another text dick, 8====D, and a smiley face. I knew April would be angry, so I decided to put off telling her until the last minute. She tried to call a few hours later but I let it go to voice mail. Later she texted, "What happened with Jeremy? Did you dump him?" I didn't respond. I just kept putting off talking to her until it was actually Friday evening at 5:30. A black Toyota pickup with four wheel drive pulled up in front of my apartment building, blasting Alice in Chains from the stereo. I walked up, holding a backpack with some clothes in it, and got in. Jeremy was all smiles, perfectly charming, as magnetic as ever. The French bulldogs, Tibby and Sanja, were in the truck and their cuteness basically sucked all the oxygen out of anything else. I was so happy to see him that by the time I even remembered I hadn't canceled on April yet we were well out of cell phone range and it was too late, so I put it out of my mind. As we were driving through Fillmore and the country was starting to get really pretty I asked him, "What's drooie?" I had Sanja in my lap and was playing with her. "I'm glad you asked. Drooie is what makes the universe work. It's the stuff that flows between the stars, and connects people to each other. There's good drooie and bad drooie. The universe always seeks balance, so if you do a bad thing you have to do some good to make up for it." "So it's like karma?" I recall Dack had told me this at the party. "Not exactly. One way to think about it is it's kind of like a cross between karma from Buddhism, and the Force from Star Wars. We can talk about it more later." Sespe really was beautiful. It was a rugged country full of golden hills covered in green shrubs, the occasional grove of pine trees, and incredibly blue skies. It did take us a while to get up there but the days were getting longer in this part of the year and there was still plenty of light and time to hike after we got up there. We had to park at a trailhead and hike on foot to where Jeremy wanted to camp. To do this we each had to mount up with huge framed backpacks, something I did not expect, and each of us had to carry one of the dogs. Jeremy had a walking stick, like a ski pole, just to be sure to keep his balance with his artificial leg. We hiked about a mile up the Alder Creek Trail and then Jeremy turned us off the trail into the raw wilderness. He said he was looking for the perfect campsite. After a while he found it, a small clearing full of sandstone rocks with a few low trees around. People had camped here before because there was a small pile of scorched rocks with charred embers laying about. I was glad to get the big pack off and be able to put Sanja down. As we were starting to unpack Jeremy said, "Look, I hate to bring this up, but we should talk about something. Know how I said that when you do a bad thing you have to do some good to make up for it? The whole thing about you coming on this trip, you really tanked your drooie. You can make up for it, though." I was uncomfortable talking about it but I asked him what he wanted me to do, and he said, "You have to be punished a little bit. Don't worry, it's not bad. Who knows, a dirty boy like you will probably like it." Instantly I knew the "punishment" would be sexual. I was a little nervous, but the way it suddenly grew rigid in my pants my dick made its feelings known very clearly that it had no problem with being punished. Jeremy was maddeningly coy about what he had planned. We set up the camp and he gave me a beer. Then he took a smaller knapsack out of the larger one where he'd carried the tent supplies. Unzipping it I saw several coils of nylon rope. There was also the same little zipper bag he'd brought to the party, which had oil in it, and a cylindrical object wrapped in a blue towel. He got that out and I was amazed to see it was a dildo molded from flesh-colored plastic, stuck to the end of a length of small PVC pipe. He handed this to me and asked if I knew what it was. Duh, it's a dildo. "Not exactly. I mean, yeah, it is, but also it's an exact replica of my dick. At the time I got deployed to Iraq I had a long term girlfriend. There's a company you can write away to for a kit where you can take an exact mold of your penis, pour in the latex and make one of these. She discovered it and got me to do it so she could play with that while I was deployed. A lot of military wives and girlfriends do it. We broke up after I got wounded and came back and she gave it to me. It's come in handy a few times." He had chosen the camp site in part because there was a leafless tree nearby with branches that formed sort of a jagged Y, roughly a wish-bone shape. This was next to some medium-sized pines with hanging branches. He told me to take my clothes off. I could put my socks and hiking boots back on, but aside from that it was best if I didn't have anything else on. He told me not to worry about privacy because no one would come up here. He brought one of the folding aluminum lawn chairs over so I could sit on it as I took my shoes off. My hands were quivering but I was still quite excited. There was no hiding it when I pulled down my underwear and Jeremy saw I was hard. "Now, that's what I like to see," he said, while uncoiling some of the rope. "You're going to like this, I promise." Jeremy looped some of the rope around the branches of the tree and he made a series of slipknots. First he asked me to put my left wrist through, cinched it up and pulled it so it was pressed up against one of the branches. "That okay? Not too tight? I'm not trying to hurt you." In fact he was very kind and gracious as he repeated the process on my right wrist, then my left ankle and my right ankle. "You're doing so good! I think you're already earning drooie." In a couple of minutes the Y-shaped tree was a cat's cradle of jury-rigged rope loops, and I was tied to it, spread-eagled, facing away from the campsite. My feet were touching the ground but the tree carried most of my weight and the way he'd tied me I was basically pitched forward at about a 30 degree angle. My legs were spread. My hard dick stuck straight out and up from my groin. This whole experience was frankly terrifying but also very exciting. I was astonished to look down and see a glistening drop of precum on my tip. Whatever my brain was saying, my penis was greatly enjoying this. The fact that I was wet didn't escape Jeremy's notice. He knelt down, took the little bottle of oil, spread some on his hands and began rubbing it on my dick, smearing my precum together with the oil. My body shuddered and I let out an involuntary moan. He oiled up my penis and balls before he let go. "I don't want you to cum yet. That'll be a reward. Punishment comes first." The feeling of the cool mountain breeze on my oiled-up junk was really pleasant. For a few minutes Jeremy futzed about with the dildo--sorry, the replica--in his hands. Ultimately he decided on a low-hanging branch of the nearby tree that was a bit springy. He snapped off the end of the branch, put the PVC pipe over it and secured it with some of the rope. Never in a million years would I have guessed that not only would I someday be tied up in the wilds of southern California waiting to be fucked by a tree branch, but that I was actually looking forward to it. Not that I wasn't scared. I even told him, "Hey man, I don't know about this." He shushed me and said it was too late. He began smearing copious amounts of oil on the end of the replica. My heart was pounding. He got behind me. With his oily hands he caressed my butt cheeks, which caused me to shudder again in delight and desire. "Now, we can do this one of two ways. We can do it nice, and you'll totally relax your body, no tension in your muscles at all, and it'll go in real smooth and you'll enjoy it. That's option one. Or, you can resist and be scared of it, and it'll go in hard and it'll hurt, and when it comes out your ass will ache so bad you'll want to die. That's option two. But you will accept punishment. Which option do you prefer?" "Option one, please." "Very good." He told me to relax completely. I didn't have to worry even about standing up; the tree would hold me up. He poured a sip of beer in my mouth from the can I'd been drinking from. He even kissed me under my chin. "You're doing so well!" He knelt down behind me and I felt the slightly cool oily rounded head of the replica starting to poke between my butt cheeks. With oiled fingers Jeremy reached up and spread my anus with his thumb and forefinger. "Relax," he said. "No tension. Even try to relax your bladder. You won't piss yourself, not that it would matter if you did. Strive for absolutely zero tension in every muscle of your body." A moment later my bowel felt that familiar full feeling. The head of the replica slid inside me, oiled and silky, without a bit of pain. I groaned again. He inserted the shaft. Leaning and hanging against the tree, letting the ropes and the branches hold my entire weight, was quite relaxing. What was also amazing was how relaxed I could feel with the entire girth of Jeremy's thick penis inside me. It had hurt when he fucked me for real. This didn't hurt at all, and it was amazing that it didn't. When the replica was anchored firmly inside of me Jeremy let go and walked back to the camp site which was about fifty feet away. He fed the dogs, started a fire in the small pile of rocks and did another few mundane tasks. I saw him take his shirt off. I was still hanging there on the tree, watching everything. My hands were going numb from being held upright for so long but aside from that I felt fine. Moving even slightly caused the replica to shift a little bit inside me. I had never had an experience even remotely like this one before. I started to believe what Sonia said at the party, that Jeremy was a genius. It took some ingenuity to come up with this trick. At the camp site Jeremy popped open a bottle of wine and poured some into two metal cups from a camping mess kit. He brought them over to the tree. He held up one to my lips and dribbled some wine into my mouth. He said this was a Kistler Sonoma Coast pinot noir, 1996 vintage. That meant nothing to me but it tasted wonderful. Then he went behind me and got the folding chair I'd been sitting on earlier. He planted it about ten feet in front of the tree. He unbuttoned his shorts and pulled them down to his ankles. Spreading his legs, I saw his hairy right knee and the nylon strap that fixed the aluminum leg to the remainder of his left knee. He was wearing Alfani boxer briefs, black, that happened to have a button fly. He unbuttoned it and pushed the fabric of the shorts down around his erect cock that stood straight up out of the fly of his underwear. "Eyes on me," he said, but it was impossible not to watch him. He scratched and played with his balls for a little while, ultimately pulling them out of the fly too. He stroked his beautiful cock upwards, causing a drop of precum to well up out of the tip. He rubbed it over his dickhead and sighed. Then, using a steady controlled motion of his right hand, he started masturbating. Watching Jeremy play with his dick, while an exact replica of that same penis was rammed deep up my ass, was a truly mind-blowing experience. I couldn't stop watching him pleasure himself. Soon he was panting softly and licking his lips in anticipation. As he got close to climax he held his left hand, cupped, over the tip of his dick. He looked at me, deep into my eyes, bit his lip, drew his breath in sharply and then let loose. I watched several jagged blasts of white liquid spurt up into his hand. I wished it was spurting into me instead. When he was done ejaculating Jeremy got up from the chair and carefully held his left hand upright so as not to spill any of the semen that had collected there. With his right hand he pulled up his shorts casually and stepped toward me. He dipped his right thumb into the cum on his hand, then stuck the thumb into my mouth so I could taste him. I groaned and shuddered. My own dick was close to going off. I was afraid of ejaculating involuntarily, because if I did my ass cheeks would clench down on the replica and I'd wind up with the butt-ache that Jeremy had warned me would happen if I was too tense. But he had mercy on me. He walked around behind me and I felt the replica shift slightly as he put his hand on the branch. "I'm gonna pull it out. On three. One, two, three!" I gasped as he yanked the branch and the replica out of me. It hurt for a few seconds but then my body relaxed again. He came around to my front. After giving me a full-on kiss--my breath stank of Kistler Sonoma Coast and his cum--he reached down and closed his left hand around my penis. This was the hand where he'd been saving most of his cum, and he used it as lube. His boner slime mixed with the oil that was already on my dick. I couldn't help but make noise. Not only did I groan and gasp, I was virtually screaming. He brought me to orgasm in less than fifteen seconds. When my dick exploded it was so intense it felt like it was blasting a significant chunk of my brain with every pump. Though he was masturbating me with his left hand, Jeremy used his right to collect my cum. Even before I'd finished he slapped his right palm against my mouth, smothering my own seed across my lips. "Lick it up!" he said. "Fucking dirty boy, lick it all up! You probably been a cum eater since you were ten years old. Take it all, dirty boy! I want you to taste every single one of your little sperms. Every little squirming dirty-boy sperm you just shot, eat it, swallow it!" I don't remember him getting me down from the tree. I don't think I passed out, but the next thing I knew I was sprawling, dressed only in my underwear and hiking boots, in one of the folding chairs in front of the fire, Sanja in my lap and a tin cup full of Kistler Sonoma Coast in my right hand. My whole body was vibrating like a tuning fork. There were rope marks on my wrists and ankles; they itched slightly but didn't hurt. My ass didn't hurt at all. Jeremy, also in his underwear, was adding a piece of wood to the fire. He was asking me to rank the Star Wars movies from best to worst. My mind was reeling. Star Wars? What's that? What was my name? I was in a fog. It wouldn't be the last time. More to come... Check out some of my other stories, "My Elvish Boyfriend" and "Farm Planet Chronicles" are probably the most popular: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#dolphindan My book, "An American Elf in Paris," is out now: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08BNVGZYQ Please donate to Nifty: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html