This is a stand alone story that connects with Dreaming of Sin. You don't need to have read Dreaming of Sin to be able to read and fully understand this story. If you have read some, or all, of Dreaming of Sin this story should deepen that world.
The Cult of Jack - A Dreaming of Sin Story - Ch. 01
Kim was practically a new person. Her raven hair had an airy wave as it made its way down just past her shoulders. Her cheeks had taken on some color from a week of sun and were beginning to flush as the twenty-year-old's heart settled into an excited patter harmonizing with the buzz of the vibrator inside of her.
A pair of simple black heels, a black skirt a hand above the knees, and snow white blouse gave her the look of a newly hired intern who had just rushed to her first day of work.
"Turn that off for now dear," Natasha said. Her own clothes were similar to Kim's but more extreme. Natasha's black heels were four inches tall, her skirt was tighter and extended mere inches below her ass. Her blouse fitted, and nipples punched at the fabric, a tiny black jacket shaped and pushed her chest.
Kim gave a disappointed sigh and lifted her skirt, switching off the rabbit vibrator and gently pulled it out of herself. Their lessons had become more and more intense in the week Natasha had been teaching Kim, and this was her second day in a row where she had come prepared to openly enjoy herself.
"This is your first class on theology," Natasha said, resting some of her weight on the top of a desk in front of Kim, anything to take pressure off her feet.
Kim's back straightened at the words. Hey eyes sharpened. No one would have accused Kim of being a stupid girl, no one but her step-parents anyways, and she had spent her life rolling her eyes at unsupported religious proclamations of truth. Natasha could almost see the girl brace herself for disappointment.
"God is fighting a war," Natasha began. "On one side of the war is god's true self, and us. On the other side of the war is Saliah, the personification of corruption and evil, and her minions."
Natasha paused for a shallow breath and went on. "Saliah is no more imagined than our god, Jack. She walks the halls of this mansion, you'll see her and perhaps even be tempted by her to join her side. She is god's companion in all things."
"Our job, our role, our mission and duty is to give to god every desire of his true self so that Saliah has less sway over him, and he might defeat her."
Kim's eyes sharpened. Natasha recognized the look from when they first met. What if she didn't believe? Where would she go then? What would she do then?
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"Is this some kind of cult thing?" Kim's suspicious eyes shone out from behind dirty, limp, bangs that jutted down from the hood of a torn black hoodie. Her words seemed louder than was natural from the girl's small frame. Maybe it was the stone floors of an empty 2 AM bus station amplifying the voice. Maybe it was the way Kim had pulled back when Natasha sat down beside her, the motion was born of fear and surprise. It had made her seem meek, quiet. Either way the voice didn't fit the girl.
Where had Kim's suspicious eyes been when she had packed up the duffle bag laying on the spotted floor between her feet? Natasha doubted the girl had grown that look in the space of however many hours she had been waiting here. Yet those were not the eyes of a girl who lightly left home without a plan.
Natasha shrugged. "Yes, but in addition to dogma and rules, my cult has three hot meals a day and a safe bed for the night. If you're going to swipe left, why not do it after a night's sleep and a couple of free meals?"
Natasha could almost see the tiger of hunger and panther of suspicion circling each other in Kim's pupils as she said nothing. In a past life this moment had always carried a flicker of guilt for Natasha. "Let's put your mind at ease," Natasha said, and pulled open the purse sitting on her lap. Whatever Kim expected her to take from it, it probably wasn't her driver's license. "Snap a picture of me and my ID. Send it to a friend, tell them you're going to stay with me a few days."
Kim's face melted and she shook her head, tilting it back until her nose pointed up to a large brown oblong stain on bus station drop ceiling. "I don't even have a phone to pretend to take a photo on."
"Then use mine," Natasha said, even as she unlocked her phone and gave it to the girl. Kim reached out for the phone with a slow hand, and Natasha knew she'd closed the deal. Everything else was just a matter of not losing it.
The only one who seemed overtly unhappy about the arrangement was the bus station's sole ticket agent, who, when the phone was raised to take a picture, ducked from his chair and shuffled out of sight. He'd complain about it when they saw each other next, and Natasha would have to apologize, but he had come so cheaply that she wasn't worried about him changing his mind about their arrangement. He'd give her a call whenever a stray girl looked like she had nowhere to go, and in return Natasha would send him some nudes of herself.
Once she'd gotten the skittish girl into the passenger seat of a rented Toyota Corolla - too fancy and too run down would have both been signs that something was off - the next stop was a McDonalds Drive through. Kim, who at 5'6" couldn't have weighed more than 110 pounds, ordered two Big Macs, a chocolate milkshake, and a large fries. She took a quarter of a Big Mac into her mouth with the first bite. Natasha drove.
"What kinds of things are you interested in?" Natasha asked, though a very full mouth stopped Kim from answering. "I was born and raised here, and if you ever need some recommendations, I'd be happy to give them - assuming you don't join my cult anyways. Where are you from?" She flashed the girl a hundred watt smile, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to make the joke.
Kim swallowed and took a deep breath. "Texas," she said and then tore another huge chunk of the burger away.
"Because it was the longest bus ride you could find? Or because there was something special here pulling you our way?"
A cup of milkshake washed the next bite of burger down and Kim slumped back into the Toyota's heated seat. "Not so much distance as hours. I just wanted time to think, you know?" Kim's head started to swivel as Natasha turned onto a side street and the houses went from McMansion to mansion. "What is this place?" she asked.
"Not bad, is it? You were probably thinking some converted school or run down trailer?"
"I don't know. Just... Not this."
"One of the differences between a fake religion and a real one is that when god actually is real, he gives you nice things."
Kim snorted back a laugh. But when Natasha turned into the driveway Natasha's mouth opened, her jaw hanging loose for a dozen heartbeats.
"Home sweet home," Natasha began, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning to the girl beside her. "There are some house rules. The first one is that there are no drugs and no weapons in the house. I'll take you inside, show you to your room. It's a private room with a door that locks and a window to the outside that opens. You're not trapped here. Once you see that, I'm going to go through your things with you and make sure there are no drugs and no weapons."
"I've got a bottle of mace," Kim answered.
"You can give it to me now, or when you see your room. Either way is ok, but you can't keep it."
Kim nodded, and took a battery sized can of mace from a pocket of the baggie hoodie she was wearing and clenched it in her hand. Smart girl.
"Next, there's a bathroom right beside your bedroom, and you can go to that whenever you like. But the rest of the house is totally off limits unless you're with me. This is home to a lot of people who don't know you and wouldn't be comfortable with you just walking in on them. Clear on rule 2?"
Kim nodded.
"Last. There are three hot meals a day and you can stay as long as you'd like, but there are two religious ceremonies each day. Each is one hour long. 7 AM and 3 PM. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable doing. You can just sit there. But you have to attend both if you're going to stay here. Since it's..." Natasha looked at her watch and twisted her lip in surprise, "3:30 in the morning already, I'll make a special exception for tomorrow and you can skip the morning service. The other 22 hours of the day are yours to do with as you like. Clear?"
Kim nodded again.
A half an hour later and Natasha closed the door to Kim's bedroom behind her. The girl had made a deliberate point to busy herself inspecting the room, testing the window, looking at the hundred or so books that filled a small book case in the dorm-room sized servants quarter as Natasha had gone through her duffle bag looking for contraband. She'd found none, and in turn Kim had found nothing to be suspicious of in the room and handed over the small can of mace. Natasha had shown her the bathroom, and how to work to washer and dryer stacked in the bathroom's closet. The girl would need to wash literally everything she owned. Though that wouldn't take long.
Just before Natasha had closed the door after wishing her a good night, Kim had said, "thank you." Natasha always used to take pride in that, when she'd tricked someone so completely that they'd thanked her in the end. Now she was doing god's will and the thanks filled her with warmth.
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"I uh, didn't know what to wear," Kim said the next afternoon when she'd answered her door after Natasha's 2:45 PM knock. The grime covered girl from the bus station was gone. Kim's raven hair was sleek and refreshed. Her pale skin was clean, and her cheeks had a slight nervous flush thanks to a good lunch and good sleep. But she wore the same pair of jeans and torn, baggy, hoodie she had been wearing the night before - though both had at least been washed.
For her part, Natasha was wearing a pinstripe skirt suit. Her pearl white blouse was done three quarters of the way up, just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage. Four inch heels were already whispering at her to sit down.
"I didn't think you had a skirt suit hiding away somewhere in that bag of yours," Natasha smiled, "I'm just glad you got a good night's sleep. You look so much fresher." She motioned for Kim to follow and led the way down the hallway and into what had been a sitting room. When Natasha had begun to explore the mansion, the room had struck her as a throwback to an age when tea and scones had been the height of womanly entertainment. But it had been an easy room to convert for her purpose. She'd removed the coffee table, swapped out a handful of the brighter paintings with more somber pieces from around the house. And, with the help of two maids, had moved a solemn wooden chest into position at the head of the room. With the blinds closed and twenty-five candles lit (one for every year of Jack's life when he's met Saliah), the room was ready.
"Uh... where is everyone?" Kim asked as they stepped in and her eyes focused on a couch in the room's middle that faced a fabric wing chair a few feet in front of it.
"It's going to be a private ceremony. Your first time here is going to be about personal reflection. I'm going to ask you some questions about your life that I'd like you to really reflect on. You don't have to tell me the answers if you're not comfortable. But I'd like you to at least think about it."
"I uh, just sit here?" Kim asked and pointed to a wing backed chair.
"The couch is for you actually," Natasha corrected. "This chair faces god, so I get to sit in it."
