Worship, Praise, and a Sermon

Yesterday, nothing much happened during the worship, praise, and sermon. I did have to give a few blowjobs to some of the women besides Beon Heryeong, but that was it. No women came to me at night, and I didn't have to go to any of them either.

I need to fill the quota... so I'll have to do the main event eventually.

To return these women to their normal lives, I had to secure control over the hypnosis. And to do that, I ultimately had to have sex with them.

Well, skipping a day shouldn't be a problem.

I had plenty of time. Rather than rushing, it might be better to get used to life as the cult leader for now.

I received guidance and participated in their worship. Worship dedicated to me.

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And that worship was a bit more vulgar than I'd imagined.

It was a song. A hymn. If you ignored the fact that they were worshiping me—the man right in front of them—with vulgarity instead of reverence, rather than some invisible god, that's what it was.

I'd never heard it before, but it had a melody that felt like "This is probably the kind of tune they'd use for a hymn."

The women leading the praise up front gazed at me with devout eyes that didn't match the lyrics at all, making it hard to keep a straight face.

Sigh, alright. Let's enjoy it. Just enjoy it.

Not a single cult member was anything less than young and beautiful. To the point where I wondered where they'd even found women like this.

Though they were under hypnosis, they sang with utter sincerity, confessing their love to me. A lewd serenade begging to be ravished by me, sung all together.

So, it was best to think of it positively—

Still, it was a hymn that was hard to get used to.

The long praise seemed to be wrapping up. The five women who'd been sitting with me on the long bench slipped away quietly.

"Let us all give glory to the Cult Leader! Praise and worship! Let us live each day grateful for grace and love, and with that, today's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠praise ends here...!"

Beon Heryeong was handling the proceedings with practiced ease, microphone in hand.

Wait, didn't she stutter when I first saw her?

She was an unpredictable girl. But seeing her so lively and confident up front made my heart feel a bit lighter.

Thinking that if I hadn't granted her "forgiveness of sins" yesterday, I wouldn't have seen this side of her gave me a sense of accomplishment—like I'm doing something worthwhile.

Wait, is feeling accomplished about this even right...?

I forcibly suppressed the anxiety that my values might get twisted just from being around them.

Anyway, for now, I had to enjoy it.

"Next up! A dance for the Cult Leader alone!"

"Ah."

So that's why those girls had slipped out earlier—they were heading to the stage.

Fast BPM music blared, and the women beside me cheered, hyping up the mood.

Do I have to cheer too?

I was tempted to get swept up in the atmosphere, but I had to act as cult leader for a week. I needed to at least pretend to maintain some dignity.

After a moment's hesitation, I clapped along in steady rhythm.

I could feel the dancers on stage lighting up at my applause.

But I couldn't help feeling a sense of wrongness at their outfits.

What is this? Sexy but not quite...?

It didn't expose much bare skin, but instinctively, I thought, Those are lewd clothes you couldn't wear in a normal performance.

As the dance began, I realized the source of the discomfort.

They're not covering the parts they should!

In typical "sexy dances," the lewd outfits firmly cover what needs to be hidden and expose the rest. They secure the breasts so they don't bounce wildly or let nipples peek out during intense moves, and wear skin-tight clothes that never reveal ass cracks or pussies.

Instead exposing legs, shoulders, navels, and such.

But their clothes completely rejected that premise.

The fabric that seemed to cover the tops fluttered wildly as the women sat and stood. Unrestrained breasts bounced freely, eventually exposing nipples.

They danced without a hint of hesitation.

Their lewd moves—like twerking—didn't stop at just showing the jiggle of flesh under their asses. Firm, perfectly shaped ass cracks that I wanted to slide my cock between right then were on full display.

I hadn't noticed at first glance. All those elements flashed by in brief moments as they moved intensely to the beat.

But that made it even easier to focus on the dance.

And they weren't stingy about showing off.

Sweating profusely, they danced with passion, and I watched their bodies with full concentration.

Letters... above their pussies?

On each of the five women, right where their wombs would be, letters were written.

'Cult,' 'Leader,' 'Devo,' 'ted,' 'Slut'...

Oh no. For a moment, I thought, They're so devoted.

I'm not some great person. Just a lucky guy who got this power and sacrificed these women to hypnosis to prevent greater harm.

I'm the perpetrator.

I don't deserve their love.

My role is to spend this week minimizing damage to their bodies and minds, then end the hypnosis like nothing happened.

Still...

It felt good. It was a bit embarrassing, but being acknowledged and praised was ridiculously uplifting.

Seeing others debase and clown themselves for me, without fear, right in front of me—it filled me with a sense of superiority just realizing it.

The flashy, steamy dance ended. I gave them a round of applause.

But before I could bask in it, Beon Heryeong grabbed the mic.

"Great job, dance team! Next, time to hear the Cult Leader's wise words!"

...Huh?

Shouldn't they have given me a heads-up if this was coming?

But refusing to preach here might make me seem unfit as "Cult Leader."

Even if not, it'd disappoint the people waiting.

Given my followers' personalities, they'd think not that the Cult Leader wasn't prepared, but that something in the praise or dance failed to please me.

Still, I couldn't bring myself to stand.

What right do I have to preach to these people?

I'm not particularly wiser, more moral, or capable than anyone else. These women here with me were probably more outstanding and worth learning from than I was.

Setting that aside, I'm their perpetrator. Even if the situation left me no choice, they were victims of my decision.

People I'd given up on.

I had no right to pontificate in front of them.

In that case...

So, I stood up. Not to preach for them, but for myself.

A podium had been set up on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stage before I knew it. I stepped to it.

It might be a bit too humble for a sage Cult Leader, but even cult leaders seemed to use polite speech in front of the masses, so this should be fine.

I know. I'm no god, and they're just foolish followers hypnotized into believing in a false one.

So, I can't delude myself into thinking this relationship is real.

Just because I have the right to maintain this hypnosis doesn't mean everything will go my way.

I was preaching to the women before me, but really, I was vowing to myself.

For this week... let's enjoy it. This much is fine.

But when that time ended, I'd have to prepare to part with these people.

I must not forget my purpose and resolve.

Once this hypnotized week ended, without fail.