THE CULT

BY YOMAMMA

OK, a little background on this one is needed. I recently put in a message to NAP that “Tied for Punishment” was my first fictional story. That was wrong because I forgot about this old chestnut. If you have not done so, you should read up on the supposed phenomena of a vast network conspiracy of organized and ritualized sexual abuse which many people, mostly women, believe to really exist. Most of these women claim to have been victims of a cult but they didn’t realize it until their “memories” which they had repressed were brought forward, usually by hypnosis or some trauma.

Well a while back I had to take a psych class for continuing professional credit and this issue was one of the prof’s pet issues. He DID NOT believe any of it and thought that these women were being taken advantage of my quacks and con-men who played on their insecurities for a quick buck.

n any case, as part of the class I wrote a version of the story you see below and posted it in a newsgroup, to see the reaction. It became very popular and even got stolen, modified, and posted on a web site regarding this topic.

As part of the project I attached a temp e-mail address I set up just for that purpose and the response was really bizzare.I had assumed everyone would see that it was fictional, a fake as it was way to dramatic and pulp fiction pornish, but that was not the case. All of the responses I got believe this kind of thing to be true. Most were from women thanking me for being brave enough to expose what was going on. They said reading about it made them feel so much better since so many people thought they were crazy. Almost all of them said they had undergone many of the exact things I described and a number were convinced that we had gone to the same “church” I describe below. If you have ever stayed up late listening to Art Bell, the e-mails were like that. A couple of the women were interested in meeting me to talk about things more. Now these women, regardless of what had happened to them were obviously messed-up and I didn’t want to make it worse. So I usually sent them polite supportive replies suggesting that they seek out professional help if they had not already done so. The spookiest e-mail, which had gone through an annon. server, was from a man that was not happy I had been telling these things, that I should shut up or else. Likewise a newsgroup response from someone wanting to know if I ever wanted to rejoin the cult was spooky as he said if I repented and stopped spreading this story, I could come back “home.”

So if there are any out there that don’t know the difference between fantasy and reality and are really doing these things, you are breaking the law. So stop it!!!! Or, at least, let me know when your next meeting is!!!

Well anyway, it was very bizarre, but I got an “A” for the class! Now enjoy.

I was programmed to hurt. Hurt girls and women. To tie them up, beat them, use them and even more. I was the member of a cult and although I suffered greatly myself, I know it is nothing compared to what others have been through.
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I’ve always had a good memory. I generally can recall most everything I do or see. In fact, there is a lot I wish I didn’t remember. The gaps I have I know were caused by drugs. As time went on I did more and more drugs and that is where the memories get fuzzy

It was by pure accident that I was saved. I got appendicitis. I probably should have had symptoms long before I did, but I was so strung out on drugs I wouldn’t have noticed them. I wound up collapsing on the street and being taken to a hospital. There the doctor botched the operation and spilled fecal matter into my abdomen. I got a terrible infection that almost killed me. I didn’t help that I was resistant to many of the antibiotics they tried to give me. Druggies take a lot of antibiotics. At least we did, since we were always getting some kind of infection or something. Funny, sometimes it was easier to get acid or speed than Tetracycline.

Between the appendix, the infection and a number of operations to clean out the dead tissue in my insides, I was in the hospital almost 6 months. Gave me time to dry out and think. It was a Catholic hospital and although I am not a big fan of the Catholic church, at least the Priest that came by believed in cults. I was only 18 and was convinced I was damned and that there was no hope for me. None of my cult “friends” came to visit me, but they did send me a note. I had a picture of my then 7 year old sister in it with just the words “Its Time.” That was their mistake, trying something like that on me when I was not on drugs and when the last thing I could think about was sex. When I got out of the hospital, I convinced my mom we needed to move. Since she had a good job at that point it was not a problem and, although she did not know what I had done, she was so glad to have me back and off drugs she would have done anything.

Since then I have been trying to put things back together as best I could. I know I will never be able to forgive myself. Saw a movie the other night where Morgan Freeman says to his wife, “You know forgiving yourself is the one thing you can never do.” That is how I feel. Sometimes I wish I had repressed memories like others I read about, but, except for the drugs, I can remember it all. The rapes, the torture, beatings, fire, spiders, rats. And the submission. In the end they all submitted, all became part of the group even helping to recruit others, giving their daughters to the cult. Once broken they would hand you the whip to hit them or their daughter with. I wish I could forget.

Here, at least, is how it started. The names are changed of course. And I don’t want to say where I lived then or, especially, now. I was only a small part of something much bigger. There is no way this could all happen unless lots of powerful people were in on it.

My dad was killed by a drunk driver not long after my baby sister was born. I was just 11 years old. There was money from insurance, so we were not destitute, but we did have to move to a smaller house in a less affluent neighborhood. The worst part for me was that we moved right after the end of school, so I knew no one in the new neighborhood and there were no kids my age on our block.

To make a few extra dollars, mom looked after some infants and toddlers while their moms were at work. Made sense since mom was going to be home with my sister anyway, but it left almost no time for her to be with me.

The one good thing about our new home was that it was just a short walk to an area with shops and stores. There was an arcade, some food shops and a drug store that had every comic book imaginable. The owner never seemed to care if kids stood there and read every book on the rack without ever buying anything. He also didn’t seem to notice when we snuck peeks of the Playboys which were right out in the open. I’ve often wondered if he was part of the cult and let kids hang out there on purpose, but I don’t know for sure.

It was at the arcade that I first met them. Linda and Amy. Despite everything I have gone through, my heart still beats faster when I think of them. They were about 13 or 14 and the most beautiful things I had ever seen standing there in short-shorts an halter tops.

I never knew if they just approached me on a hunch or if they, or someone else, had planned it in advance. Given how the group operated, however, I assume the latter. I was a perfect target for recruitment, new, alone, just reaching adolescence and, the importance of which I would not know for a long time, had a house full of young kids back home.

They started talking with me at the arcade. Said they had noticed me around and wondered if I was interested in checking out the new teen center that their church had just opened up. Frankly I don’t remember much of what they said. Not because of mind control, but because of hormones. I was dumb-struck that these two “older women” were even bothering to talk to a kid like me. Apparently, I said “sure” and started walking with them to their church which was several blocks away. We talked as we walked. They were very interested in me, my mom and my life. After a bit, Amy said we were slow-pokes and ran along ahead of us, leaving Linda and I to continue talking and walking.

Now, of course, I know Amy was running ahead to let people know we were coming and to make sure there was nothing “inappropriate” going on when we got there.

The church building was on the edge of where the neighborhood started to go downhill. It was old, run down and did not look like it had been used for a long time. Linda said their church had just bought the building and were working to fix it back up. We went to a side door where there was in intercom. Linda buzzed and said who she was, after which there was a loud click and we went inside.

The inside looked as old as the out, but it was clean. Spotless in fact, and there were signs of renovation everywhere. (None of this renovation ever got completed by the way. it was mostly for show). After going through several rooms we headed down to the basement to the Teen Center.

It was a big room with new carpeting and fresh paint on the walls. There was a pool table, several pinball machines, a jukebox playing loud hard rock music and a number of worn but clean couches and easy chairs scattered about. At one end of the room was one of those old freezer chest-like Coke coolers (it was empty, turns out it was just the right size to lock in young girls and dump things on them, spiders, rats, feces, everything), and along the side a kind of kitchen area with a sink, stove and refrigerator. There were even a few of those bean-bag chairs, remember them?

For a Teen Center, there were not a whole lot of teens. At least not teen guys. There were several men in their 20 and 30s playing pool and pinball and some women and girls sitting on the couches or stools quietly watching the men play.

Amy was there waiting for us and ran up and gave us both hugs. I can still feel her breasts on me from that hug. She said I should come over and say hello to Pastor Dave and his wife.

Pastor Dave was tall, very tall. He had dark hair, a dazzling smile and eyes that seemed to look right into you. Next to him was his wife Mary, a stunning blond in a skirt and high heels. She did not look like any Pastor's wife I have ever seen, but what did I know? Amy grabbed my hand and practically dragged my over to Pastor Dave where she introduced us.

Pastor Dave (even today, I always refer to him like that) shook my hand, told me hello and said I was welcome at the center anytime day or night as there was always someone there. I was just to make sure I used the intercom as they have had trouble with vandals and had too keep the place locked up.

Pastor Dave said some other things about the church and their plans, but I was paying more attention to Amy, who was still holding my hand and softly squeezing it and stroking my palm with one of her fingers. He told Amy to show me around and to tell Linda he wanted to see her in his office. I didn’t see Linda any more that day.

The men at the pool table were very friendly, treating me like an adult and letting me join their game. Women and young girls were nearby and kept bringing me cokes and the men beer, but never said anything. At one point one of the men asked if I would like a beer. I had never had any before but said I would. A look from the man to one of the women sent her rushing to the fridge to bring me a beer. I didn’t really notice it at the time, but except for Amy none of the females said anything to me or even looked me in the eye. Amy, meanwhile, was hanging on my arm the whole time telling me how glad she was I came by. The guys kept telling me what a great place this was and how I should come by more often. Nobody mentioned religion, beliefs or any church-type stuff.

After a while I said I needed to be heading back home. Pastor Dave came out again and invited me to a lock-in on Friday. He said the kids would be showing up throughout the afternoon and would stay through Saturday. All I needed, he said, was a sleeping bag. He gave me a church pamphlet and a permission slip to fill out and have my mom sign with the usual emergency numbers to write down, and said if my mom had any question she should call him.

Amy walked me back to the Arcade at which point she said she had to go back because she had “church duties” to take care of. She said she hoped I would come on Friday and both she and Linda would be there. Then she said I was cute and kissed me! It was my first real kiss by a girl and my legs turned to jello. She gave me some gum to cover-up my beer breath and said we could have a lot of fun this weekend. I knew right then I would be there Friday night, no matter what it took to convince my mom.

As it turned out, it didn’t take much. She was thrilled that I had been hanging around a church instead of the arcade with all those “delinquents” and thought it was wonderful that I was interested in joining a church youth group. She did call Pastor Dave the next day and, while I don’t know what he said, he sure charmed her. By the end of the call she was not only ok with the lock-in, but was hoping that I spend more time at the church instead of the drugstore and arcade.

Thanks to a load of chores around the house, I was only able to come by the church once before the Friday lock-in and neither Linda or Amy were there. One of the women in a skirt and high heels recognized me, however, and immediately brought me a beer.

This time there were some teen guys there, older teen guys, 17, 18 or so. I had not seen them before but they acted like we were great friends. Also, this time, I noticed the younger girls, elementary school age, all in little dresses come in and sit down. Sometimes a man would enter the room, motion to one of the young girls and they would head through a door in back. After a while the man might come back, but not the girl. I felt so grown up. Drinking beer and playing pool with some high school guys. After a while the conversation went to girls. (Doesn’t it always with guys?). The guys started talking very vulgar about what kind of tits, cunts, asses and other female body parts they liked. And this was right if front of a woman in her thirties and several girls, none of whom did or said anything. They even pointed to the woman and asked if I liked those this bitch’s tits. Trying to fit in, I said, "Yes," and agreed with everything they said, even when they said things like “and little Suzy there is a cute little cunt too, isn’t she” pointing to a young girl.

Of course it was all a test. Had I not agreed with them or reacted badly to the vulgarities, things might have turned out quite different for me. But I was young and friendless, wanting desperately to fit in. I asked them if they would be at the lock-in and they said no, it was mostly for new and younger kids, but they were sure I would have a great time.

That Friday, I couldn’t wait to get to the church. I wanted to go right after lunch, since Pastor Dave had said “afternoon”, but mom made me wait a while. She said it was not polite to arrive early.

I practically ran to the church when she said I could go. When I got there Linda and Amy were waiting for me. For the first time there were a few other guys around my age there, but we were outnumbered by the females all older than us. Linda and Amy stuck with me the whole time and that appeared to be the pattern. Each guy my age had a couple of good looking girls fawning all over them.

Most of the afternoon was typical kid stuff; pool, pinball, pizza. Nobody mentioned beer, but the punch that was there tasted odd and I was soon light headed. The jukebox never stopped playing hard rock music very loud. At one point Linda pulls me into a coat closet and says Amy told her I was a good kisser. Whatever was in the punch was really getting to me and I felt dizzy. Linda started kissing me. After a bit she puts my hand on her breast and has me squeeze it hard. Next thing I know her hand is rubbing the outside of my pants. Just as I start getting really worked up, she breaks off and says we need to get back.

Much of the rest of the evening is a blur. I don’t know why they said to bring a sleeping bag. We were up the entire night. Pastor Dave spent much of the time reading to us and “preaching.” I don’t remember all he said, but I know he kept saying it over and over. We all chanted stuff over and over and had more punch. Eventually, I just wanted to sleep, but that was not an option. Every time it looked like folks were dropping off, the music would get turned up and everybody got up to dance.

During one of the dance breaks, Amy gets me into the closet and says she is jealous that I must like Linda more than her. I’m real confused by now. She starts kissing me and, doing Linda one better, puts my hand under her tube top and her hand into my pants. She had my pinch her nipple as hard as I could, until tears came to her eyes. I didn’t know any better. It was my first time doing things like that. They were already programming me. Sex always meant hurting the girl. I only got pleasure when they got pain. They were also testing. They wanted boys, the younger the better, but they had to be capable of sex. They had to be able to get hard and want girls. But they needed to be inexperienced as well. They didn’t want anyone who had already had a girlfriend, nothing where there was tenderness or real love. They taught me from the start, I got to feel good, when the girl was in pain.

There were no windows and no clocks, so I had no idea what time it was. Pastor Dave had left and an assistant Pastor was leading us all in songs and dances. We chanted something and danced in a circle. I complained I was tired and I needed sleep. The assistant Pastor yelled at me for being weak and letting the group down. I was ashamed. He gave me a pill and said to take it. I did.

I started to get real sensitive. It was like I could feel the air touching my body. I wasn’t just hearing the music, I was feeling it. It was inside me pulsing. At some point Amy and Linda say they have a surprise for me in Pastor Dave’s office. I had not been there yet and they each grabbed a hand and lead me through some hallways. I know I stumbled and fell once. The girls just giggled and picked me up. In Pastor Dave’s office was the woman who had brought me the beer the last time I was there. Amy says something like “Johnny said you liked her tits, do you?” I mumbled something. I remember the colored lights. There were colored lights coming from somewhere. The woman started to take her top off as Linda kissed my neck and Amy stroked my crotch. The woman took off her bra and I could see her breasts as she leaned against Pastor Dave’s desk. They seemed to be pulsing with the colored lights. Where were those coming from?

Amy was on her knees now undoing my jeans and Linda hands me a plastic flyswatter. She tells me to slap the woman’s tits. I must have hesitated, because she takes my hand and does it for me. Amy has my cock in her mouth and I have never felt anything like it. Linda is moving my hand slapping the woman’s breasts, not hard, but steady. Linda finally lets go of my hand and I keep slapping. She is whispering to me to hit harder as Amy keeps sucking me. I stopped slapping once and Amy stopped sucking. The harder I hit the more Amy sucked me on me. I am being trained. I honestly don’t know how long this all went on. Thinking back it seems like hours, but I know that can’t be true. Linda put something under my nose and my mind exploded. I had my first real orgasm. I don’t know if much came out, but my hips were jerking out of control.

I guess I passed out after. I woke up with someone gently sucking on me again. I was on the couch in Pastor Dave’s office and had headphones on that were playing weird music. It was Linda who woke me and she said we had to get straightened up because Pastor Dave would be here soon. I told her I didn’t feel so good and she left and got me a couple of pills and some more punch. It must have been speed or something, because I was flying again.

Pastor Dave came in and told me how glad he was I came to the lock-in. I don’t know what was done to me while I was out, but the instant he walked in I knew I belonged to him. He was my new dad. He said it was important that I never talked about what we did to anyone outside the church and if I did, I could never come back. I could only nod. He said normally they didn’t let kids so young join and if I failed them he would be very disappointed and Linda and Amy would be in big trouble since they were the ones that invited me. He also said some church members would be so mad they might even try and hurt my mom or sister. The threats make me shake, but he didn’t need them, I was in love with them and there was no way I would betray them.

Right then there is a knock on the door. A woman all dressed up like for church is there with a little girl with her who had to be about 6 years old. She apologizes for interrupting, but says Julie had not learned her lesson for this week. The girls wrists and elbows are both tied tightly behind her back, she was obviously in pain and was already sobbing as she is led to Pastor Dave.

Pastor Dave tells her to shut up and slaps her hard across the face. Then he pulls her over his lap as the Woman raises her dress and pulls off her panties. Pastor Dave takes a leather strap out of his desk drawer and begins to hit her hard. The girl is screaming. All the while Amy has is stroking the outside of my pants and Amy is kissing me and has my hand between her legs. The drugs are really kicking in again now and all I can see again are the colored lights. Where do they keep coming from?

The girl is taken off his lap and bent over the edge of a table near the desk, the table was just the right height for the girl to be bent over double, the woman then ties the girls ankles to the two legs of the pulling legs apart wide. The girl is really crying now and begging an pleading,, so the woman takes the girls panties and stuffs them in her mouth.

At this point the girls lead me over. Where have my pants gone? Amy takes my slim but hard cock and puts it right up to the girls asshole and starts to push me in. I remember resisting. I didn’t know what was happening when my butt exploded in pain. Pastor Dave was behind my hitting my butt with the strap, hard. Amy and Linda where holding me in place and he kept hitting me trying to push me into her. I think I was stuck in my butt with a needle then. I can’t be certain, but I know from later on that others were injected with drug combos.

I don’t have great memories of what happened next, but I saw the Polaroids somebody was taking. I had had sex with the girl, she had sucked me and I had beat her, Amy, Linda and the woman --who was Julie’s mother!-- with the belt and a stick. And not just their butts, but fronts as well.

Many of the pictures showed Julie naked tied up in various positions, she had been tied over the pastor's desk spread wide so that the belt could be used all over first face down then face up. One set showed her mother tying her wrists to a cord that apparently was attached to the ceiling for the next photo had her actually hanging by her wrists, feet off the floor with me standing behind her naked with a stick hitting her.

There were ones of Pastor Dave as well, doing all of these things too, spanking the girl, her sucking him and so on, although you could not see his face.

Eventually at some point in the session, I had passed out for a second time as I woke-up on a cot in the teen center. I was on my tummy and Linda was rubbing cream on my butt from where I had gotten the belt. Nobody else was around and I find out its Sunday!

I started to panic since I was supposed to have been home yesterday! Amy said it was all right, that Pastor Dave had called my mom as said I was having a wonderful time and wanted to stay for Sunday services.

They showed me the pictures and I was shocked. They said if anybody ever found out, that we would all go to jail. I guess I kind of lingered on the ones of me whipping Amy’s breasts, she lifted her top and dropped her eyes. Her breasts were bruised and had welts on them. I was sitting up (very gingerly) now and Linda was rubbing the cream on my dick which was getting hard again. Amy took my hand and put it on her breast and pushed hard. She started to tear up.

Somewhere around this time she called me “sir.” I don’t think she ever looked me straight in the eye again. She had been well trained too. Linda told me that Pastor Dave had given me Amy. Amy belonged to me now and I could have her whenever I wanted as long as I was loyal. I asked about Linda and she said she still belonged to Pastor Dave, but that he had lots of girls and would probably let us be together a lot.

Linda gave me a pendant. It had strange designs on it. On the back there was some phone numbers numbers. She said the top number was Amy’s special number. If I ever wanted her and she was not at the center, I was to call that number and she would be brought there, or wherever else I was. Then I asked what the second number was for. “That’s for Julie,” she said. “Pastor Dave has given her to you too. Her mom will bring her when you want her.” She must have sensed how bad I was feeling, for she lit up a joint and gave it to me. I about coughed up a lung, but it did make me feel better. Then she gave me another pill, broken in half, I think now it was a ‘lude, and I think the punch was still laced something.

Amy got down and started sucking me again. I started pinching her breasts, hard. I knew it hurt her and I didn’t care anymore. I was as bad as them. Linda just kept whispering “harder” and “use your nails” to me until I came. I started to cry. They both held me and kissed me. They said Julie was in Sunday school right now, would I like them to have her tied up and brought to me? I kept crying, but said yes.

There is more of course. The summer camp I was invited to and at which I eventually became a counselor, the recruitments, the “training”. The times I volunteered to look after some of the toddlers for my mom when she had an appointment. And, of course, at this point, my ass is still virgin. That was for the initiation.

Maybe I can write about more of this stuff soon too, but it is very difficult. I can keep telling myself that I was a kid, I was drugged and brainwashed. I was not in control of what happened.

But when they asked if I wanted them tie up and to bring me Julie, I said yes….