bit of strange gone wrong

He was in a different town, all on his own. Just there to do a few fun things, then go back home. Concerts, galleries and shows. All his ways to be grown up. So in that groove, he did one more thing when he met her. When she asked, he went to her place for a bit of strange. He’d be gone in a week, so why not?
He ended up staying with her for the weekend, having some wicked and wild sex. Like he’d never had before. Getting closer, talking about flirty stuff to real stuff in between bouts of sweat and sex.
Then she began her spiel. Had he known at the beginning she had thoughts like these, he would have banged her against the wall of the alley and run while he could. But he was caught up in her pheromones and in the right head space to give it a listen. A little dopey, a little sleepy, a little in crush. What harm could it do this once?
Famous last words…
For what she was chatting about was a cult. Telling him about how she felt so included, so safe, like they were family. How they spoke the truth, not like her hypocrite family. How they worked and played so hard together and just loved. How there was so much peace.
It got into his head a bit. He hadn’t known he was searching. Probably because he wasn’t really. And he’d always thought only dimwits and people with major psychoses went into a cult. But she made it sound so attractive, and she would be there… So he said he’d go.
In most cults, he’d probably be fine. Attend a few services, do a few chores, meet a few people…
But this cult was being investigated by the federal police for kidnapping, rape and murder. The body count attributed to the cult was piling up. And they weren’t neat corpses either. They looked like they had been tortured and denied food and water for weeks. They died in a high degree of shock.
Nobody would be looking for him. He hadn’t even told his boss his itinerary. Just that he was going on a much needed vacation. Nobody would be looking here for him. Even if they found his body, they’d have no way to link it to him.
She had found a perfect target. And the trap snapped shut on his neck as she led his willing soul to his own destruction. The leaders were pleased. She was the perfect lure. Time and again.

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