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
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