Date: Sun, 6 Dec 2020 21:29:10 +0100
From: Daniel Comnenus <daniel.comnenus@gmx.com>
Subject: Sex Cult Confessions (part 5)

SEX CULT CONFESSIONS (5)

By Dolphin Dan


It was May 2005, and I had just gotten back from my camping trip with
"Jeremy K." where I was sodomized with a tree branch, buttfucked silently
in the middle of the night and bombarded with his bizarre philosophy on
drooie, the Great Awakening of 2026 and World War III. Any rational person
would have run screaming from this situation. But me, I fell so hard-core
in love with Jeremy that the rest of my life almost didn't exist.

The day after we got back I finally looked at all the text messages and
listened to the voice mails that had been piling up while I was gone. I was
supposed to go out that weekend with my friends April and Todd, who was
back in L.A. for only one weekend on vacation from graduate school in
Boston, but not only did I cancel on them to go with Jeremy but I hadn't
told April that I was doing it. I winced when I heard her voice mail. It
was left at 8:52 on Friday evening, which was when we were supposed to be
out having drinks with Todd. The worst thing was that she didn't sound
angry. Indeed her voice was calm.

"Hello, Dan. Well, you're not here and you haven't called. I'm about to go
out with Todd. I'm not going to apologize to him for you. I feel like I
have to tell you this. Honestly I really don't feel like I know you
anymore. This is so totally not like you. I know it's this guy you're with,
this Jeremy. I know you really like him and you obviously feel like you
have to be with him. But he's manipulating you. He made this weekend an
artificial choice between him and your friends, and he was hoping you'd
choose him, and you did. Danny, you know I love you, we've been friends a
long time. I'm saying this because I care about you. Cut this guy
loose. He's going to hurt you eventually. He's got bad news written all
over him. He's got more red flags than a May Day parade. Maybe you can't
see it, but I absolutely guarantee this. I know you don't want to hear
it. But as your friend I have a duty to tell you straight. Please call me
when you get back. Todd says hi."

Most people who are falling under the sway of a leader or a belief system
will, when confronted with push-back from friends or family, double down
and defend what they've bought into. That's exactly what I did. At first I
was angry that April was being presumptuous. If being with Jeremy made me
happy, why couldn't she be happy for me and accept it? Thankfully I didn't
send off an angry text in response. I took a few hours to compose myself. I
texted back and said I was sorry to have missed the outing with Todd. I
told her that I loved Jeremy, that he was a brilliant person who had a lot
of great ideas, and I was going to stay with him and she should respect
that. But I also said I knew her concern was well-meant. She didn't reply
for a while.

In the meantime I also texted Jeremy. I said the camping trip was
absolutely fabulous, I loved it and I was glad he pushed me to go. It's
embarrassing, but I also added, "You were so right to punish me for almost
not coming with you. I needed it." He wrote back, I DO NOT PUNISH
LIGHTLY. GLAD YOU LEARNED SOMETHING. WAS WONDERFUL TO BE WITH
YOU. Everything was fine with him, so I was on top of the world. Just
thinking about the weekend gave me the kind of raging,
impossible-to-satisfy boners that I couldn't recall since my teens. I
masturbated eight or ten times over the next week or so, much more than my
usual, and I constantly thought back to what happened at Sespe. Recalling
the punishment in particular really got me going. It got to be where I was
thinking about how to do something that displeased Jeremy enough so he'd
punish me again, but not enough to get him really mad at me. Then again I
knew he had done the punishment to teach me a lesson, so I thought it safer
to make sure he knew I learned it.

The next lesson was also a test, but I didn't know it at the time and it
started out innocently enough. The next Friday Jeremy texted me and said he
was watching his nephew at his sister's house, they were going to get some
pizzas and watch a movie and did I want to come. This sounds innocuous,
right? The only thing which I didn't think about much at the time was that
he specifically said he was "watching" his nephew, which I presumed meant
babysitting; unless there was another nephew involved, Shawn was 16 and too
old to need a babysitter. Nonetheless I knew by now not to refuse a date
when Jeremy offered it to you so I agreed.

The sister's house was at Playa del Rey, not far from the beach. It wasn't
a mansion, not like the Palos Verdes place for the party, but it was pretty
decent, though like a throwback from the '70s: there were planters in
macrame holders, the carpet was a rusty brown color and there were framed
posters for Grateful Dead shows on the wall. It was instantly apparent that
Shawn, the nephew, was a pothead. He hung around in red nylon shorts, no
shirt, and was constantly taking hits on a silver pipe. Honestly though he
didn't look too bad. He was thin and had no muscle on him at all, but his
skin was smooth, his chest and abdomen tight and his nipples were little
dimes of darker-colored flesh. Jeremy didn't talk about his philosophy or
drooie or anything like that. We were just three bros hanging around on a
Friday evening. The drinks of choice tonight were beer and Pepsi, not
high-priced wine. We ordered a Domino's pizza. Jeremy sprinkled his slices
with copious amounts of red chile peppers. He loved spicy food.

The movie we watched was a Spanish-language film called "The Holy
Mountain." I'd never heard of it before but Jeremy said it was one of the
most mind-blowing experiences you could ever have. The film, made in the
early 1970s, made utterly no sense to me. It was some psychedelic
rumination on God and the universe, but I found it ugly and
incomprehensible, filled with images of shit, flies and butchered
animals. Even with the subtitles on I had no hope of following it, but
Jeremy constantly exclaimed how perfect it was. "Look at that shot! The
symbolism!" and "I wish I could write something like this!" Shawn, sprawled
in a rattan-framed bowl chair, was clicking the pot pipe when he wasn't
eating and didn't say much. Once the movie was done we watched two episodes
of a TV show from the 60s called "The Outer Limits," which Jeremy had on
DVD. I sat on the couch with Jeremy. We held hands at one point and I put
my head on his shoulder. He rested his aluminum leg on the coffee
table. Shawn did hits of pot and texted on his phone. I really enjoyed the
evening but it was only after the shows were over that things got a little
weird.

Apropos of nothing, reaching for the pot pipe, Jeremy asked, "Dan, how do
you feel about me?"

I knew better than to pull any punches, so I said, "I love you." It was a
bit awkward having this conversation in front of the nephew.

"Would you do something for me if I asked you?"

"I would, absolutely."

"Would you suck off Shawn?"

"Um, what?"

I was kind of shocked. Actually, not kind of--I was pretty stunned. Shawn,
in the bowl chair, glanced up from his phone and just grinned, but he heard
the whole thing. I asked Jeremy if he was serious. He assured me that he
was. "I want you to go over there and suck Shawn off. Trust me, it won't
take that long. You can do me afterward if you want, and I guess you
probably do." Jeremy looked over at his nephew. "Is that what you want?"
The boy shrugged and said something monosyllabic. "Answer verbally,
please." Shawn said "Yes," and looked back down at his phone.

I felt totally put on the spot. I looked at Shawn, then at Jeremy. Both of
them were acting completely nonchalant. Not eager to be heard by Shawn, I
put my mouth close to Jeremy's ear and whispered, "Why do you want me to do
this?" He took a hit from the pot pipe, then whispered to me: "You can't
say you would do anything for me and not prove it. Otherwise it's just
words and doesn't mean anything. If you love me you'll do this. You'll get
lots of positive drooie from it."

To be sure, there were a lot worse things he could have asked me to
do. It's not like I would have tried to do anything with Shawn under other
circumstances, but on the whole it was pretty harmless. As soon as I got up
Jeremy said, "Shawn, come sit on the couch. Don't make Dan hurt his poor
neck trying to reach into that chair."

The boy got up, phone in hand, and came over to the sofa. He stood, pulled
down his shorts and his Hanes boxers. His dick, semi-hard, was quite long
for his age but not nearly as thick as Jeremy's. His shorts dropped to his
ankles and he sat down, legs slightly spread, right next to Jeremy. I knelt
down on the rusty brown carpet beneath the couch. Jeremy, cool as a
cucumber, reached for the pot pipe, took a short hit, and then as he
settled back down into a sitting position he unbuttoned his cargo shorts
and pulled the waistband of his underwear down under his balls. The elastic
had the effect of pushing his balls upwards. His penis was soft. His nephew
gave his own cock a tug or two, causing it to lengthen and harden to its
full extent. I looked up at Jeremy and then reached over with my right hand
and started playing with his balls. The warm velvet feeling of his ball
sack was pleasing to me. His dick began to rise. With my left hand I
reached for Shawn. I waited a little until Jeremy was fully hard. Then I
briefly masturbated the two of them in tandem, though admittedly my rhythm
and stroke was a little awkward on Shawn; I'm right-handed. Jeremy settled
back on the couch, spreading his arms over the top of the sofa's back, his
right arm stretched out behind Shawn's bare shoulders. He tipped his head
back and emitted a soft moan.

I'd been jacking them off, nephew and uncle, for about half a minute and
Shawn's cock grew a bit harder in my grasp. I let go of Jeremy, moved over
to the left slightly so I was between Shawn's legs and moved my mouth
toward his penis. He scooted slightly forward, sitting up on the edge of
the couch. He made this move while reaching for the pot pipe on the coffee
table. His dickhead slid between my lips. He didn't make a sound and gave
no outward indication of enjoying the blow job. My eyes were shut. I could
taste Shawn's cock, which was saltier than Jeremy's and smelled
differently, but I tried to fix my mind on Jeremy. I was doing this because
I loved him and because he asked me to.

Luckily he helped me out. Also on the pretense of reaching for the pipe,
Jeremy moved closer to me too, his right knee touching his nephew's. My
hands were braced on Shawn's knees. Jeremy took my right hand off Shawn's
knee and gently put it around his dick which was now rock-hard. I started
stroking. Now I could concentrate on the pleasant task of pleasuring Jeremy
with my hand, while trying to ignore the more complex work of blowing his
nephew at the same time.

He was right about one thing: it didn't last long. After about two minutes
of going down on him Shawn's thin sinewy body suddenly grew taut. He was
right in the middle of typing a text message on his phone. He put the phone
down on the arm of the sofa, tipped his head back, and gave a single loud
grunt. Several hard spurts of warm salty liquid erupted into my mouth. I
swallowed as fast as I could, trying not to taste him. At the moment of
Shawn's orgasm I did clench my right fist, and Jeremy took my hand and
said, "Hey, easy there, buddy." I loosened up. After I swallowed Shawn's
seed I opened my eyes, took my mouth off his dick, already slackening, and
reached for the can of beer I'd been drinking from. "No, don't drink,"
Jeremy commanded. "You can come to me now."

Fortunately Shawn wasn't very interested in my oral pleasure of his
uncle. He got up off the couch, ostensibly to pull his shorts back up, and
went back to the bowl chair. When I got his penis in my mouth Jeremy
settled back onto the couch, again spreading out his arms across its
back. He gave me some encouragement, sighing softly, and he said, "Yeah,
that feels really good. Really, really fucking good." I got into a rhythm
on him, bobbing up and down on his penis, my head moving rhythmically up
and down like a circus seal. Jeremy gently caressed my head, brushing hair
back behind my ears. He whispered, "So good." Shawn, bored, or perhaps
looking for a distraction, reached for the TV remote. He started surfing
channels and happened to find "Terminator 2: Judgment Day" on a cable
channel. On the screen, Arnold Schwarzenegger was just opening up with a
minigun on a crowd of police. Jeremy, his penis growing harder in my mouth,
bent over me as best he could. Low, so Shawn couldn't hear, he whispered
two words in my ear: "Dirty boy." He held my head between his hands and
gently kissed the top of my head. A moment later, without making a grunt or
any such sound, he reached orgasm. The sweet hot taste of Jeremy's semen
gloriously washed away the lingering traces of Shawn's. Only as he was
ejaculating in my mouth did I realize that the situation was actually
pretty hot. The seed of these two males, closely related by blood, had
passed into my mouth within minutes. Their sperm was mingled together in my
stomach. When Jeremy released my head I finally reached for the beer can
and was able to take a taste, swishing it around in my mouth.

A few minutes later--I was sitting on the couch to Jeremy's right--he
spontaneously got up, buttoned his shorts back up, and said to Shawn,
"We're going out to the beach. I'll bring my keys."

Jeremy led me five blocks down to Playa del Mar. There were some people out
on the beach, walking dogs and such, but it was reasonably private. The
crash of the surf was comforting and the night air was at once warm and
relaxing. Jeremy asked me, "Did you enjoy doing him?"

"To be honest, not really. I did it because you asked."

"Well, I'm really glad you did. You backed up your words."

"I meant them. I love you."

"I love you, but I hope you understand that you're not the only person I
love. Sonia, Deirdre, Dack, even Shawn, I love them all."

"I understand that."

Jeremy let me hold his hand as we walked on the beach. To be honest, I was
so smitten with him that getting to hold his hand was better than him
getting me off sexually. And he told me that he loved me! It was qualified,
yes, but to my deluded mind that would hang on any act of affection he
showed toward me, that was enough.

I drove home that night about an hour later. As soon as I got to my
apartment I jumped on my bed, unzipped my pants and jacked off. I added the
memory of sucking him on the couch to one of the super hot thoughts that
would get me going pretty much any time. I was addicted to Jeremy K.

More to come...


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