Sslovebbc... The black cult (Patreon)

At the Cult

I get dropped off one hundred feet away, not drawing attention to myself or the agency. I walk in my heels, getting used to them. The small amount of training helps with balance. The street I am on is quiet, I'm the only person on it. It's sunny, but the street is so densely packed with trees.

As I close in on the location, I can see an enormous dark purple Victorian building emerge between a pair of oak trees. I pause, looking over the ominous structure with caution.

Two things stand out to me. First, it looks almost brand new; I wouldn't be surprised if the construction was finished during this month. The church is three stories tall and made of wood and stone. The bottom level is much more eye-catching: a set of wide, wooden stairs leads up to the second floor, which is guarded by a fancy railing and a large, arched door. Two guards on top of the stairs blocked the door.

I wonder what all three levels could hold. I gather my confidence, going into the front of the building. When I opened the door to the church, I noticed many people inside. All dress in suits and dresses. Most of the occupants are dark, brown, and light-skinned men. A few white males hang around their wives/girlfriends. Then I noticed the young coeds that were kidnapped or manipulated into joining this cult. All wearing slutty attire. The young white girls wearing crop tops, mini skirts, and tight skin-hugging dresses, they were extremely lewd. All being eye candies for this grown man to ogle at and prey upon. I shivered at the thought that it could be me.

The interior of the church is decorated similarly to its exterior: A lot of black purple, and gold lining every inch of the room. There is an abundance of candles and a chandelier, along with many stained glass windows. On one side, there is a door with a large "M" painted on it, I presume this to be the bathroom. The other side has two staircases leading up and a door behind the altar with the same letter.

A man who I was told would be interviewing me is warningly welcoming everyone. I gather myself, putting on a brave face. I walk over to the tall dark dark-skinned man. I smile with my perfect white teeth.

"Hi, I'm Missy Thornton. I heard about your faction from a few of my college friends."

"Hey, miss. Are you here for our Lord's embrace or the thrills? Because you won't get any trouble with either." The man replied with a teasing smirk. "Don't worry, baby. I'm a believer in letting the spirit lead us to our destiny." He walked me through the crowd toward the back of the church. He had a black jacket, which he took off and hung on a peg by the entrance, revealing a tight black tank top that showcased his muscular chest.

His pants were a simple black, and he didn't wear any sort of jewelry or anything fancy. But his aura was imposing and demanded respect, even if he didn't realize it.

I fidget nervously, feeling very conscious of how small and shy I am compared to him. I always thought I could kick even one ass, but him having a good eight to ten inches on me. He leads me into a background.

The interview

Starts