Read Heaven's Harlots: My Fifteen Years in a Sex Cult Online

Authors: Miriam Williams

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Women

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BOOK: Heaven's Harlots: My Fifteen Years in a Sex Cult
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“Read them,” he insisted again. Sure enough, there were articles on terrorism marked in the newspaper.

“That’s me they’re talking about,” he said with pride, fingering the large butcher knife he had been using to cut the sausage and bread.

I felt a shudder go through my body, and Cal began to talk nervously.

“Well, maybe we’ll just go now instead of waiting until the morning. ” The burly man was plastered by now, and he demanded that we spend the night. Since there was little room to sleep in the small, disordered shed, we convinced him to let us stay in the car.

Neither Cal nor I slept at all, and as soon as the sun came out, we crept silently away and headed toward the road. There were no cars in sight. About half an hour later, we saw a vehicle coming. It stopped and we saw that it was the German. He seemed sober now, and without mentioning the terrorist story, he drove us to the superhighway, where we caught a ride to St. -Tropez. Both of us were more contemplative after this incident, and for some unknown reason, Cal began to offer me to other men with greater ease. Perhaps he felt, as I did, that God had just saved us from a potentially dangerous situation.

As soon as we arrived in the quaint and celebrated village of St. Tropez, we met a lawyer from America who was vacationing there to visit the nudist camps. A soft-spoken, sedately good-looking man of about forty, he talked with us all day, and he let us stay in his rented bungalow that night. After bunking down on the carpet with our sleeping bags, Cal told me to go to the man’s bed and give him oral sex.

Probably, Cal was worried about me getting pregnant with another man’s baby, since it had been over three years that I had not become pregnant with him, even though we made love frequently.

The lawyer was, needless to say, surprised, but he did not protest. He had already heard about God’s Love that day, and I told him that this was just another part of it. Afterward, I went back to make love with Cal, who of course needed emotional comfort. I don’t think I ever got emotional comfort from anyone. I had grown accustomed to living without It.

Right after our return from the south, the Family decided to start a home near Monte Carlo, so Cal began making preparations for our move.

It entailed getting approvals from our leaders, who were encouraging us to leave Paris. Taking Thor with us, we met the leaders of the Nice home, and they said we could stay with them while we looked for a home to open in nearby Monte Carlo.

Both Cal and I were excited by the move south. Les Enfants de Dieu was definitely finished, and the whole Show Group was splitting up. Most of the people we had lived and worked with for the last four years we would never see again, but that was part of the revolutionary life.

The new home we arrived at in Nice was very small. In an apartment with two bedrooms and one bathroom, there lived a Swedish couple with their baby and a single French sister named Mara. Cal and I had thought that our marriage problems would diminish in a new environment, but instead, working so closely together every day, they intensified.

The Swedish couple seemed to be having troubles of their own, and they never became involved with ours, however, Mara confided in me a few weeks after our arrival that the Lord had shown her in a dream she would marry my husband, Cal. It was not such an unusual statement, since threesome marriages were allowed in the Family.

While in Nice, we continued to support ourselves by selling Mo letters on the streets, but in the evening, Mara and I went to the clubs while Cal stayed home with Thor, who was now three years old. We always had our drinks paid for by the men we met, and sometimes I met a man to whom I would witness further. This meant that I would introduce the man to Cal, and if he said yes, I would spend the night with him, usually at his hotel room, since most of these men were tourists.

Whenever I had to spend a night away from home, Mara shared sexually with Cal. Eventually, I talked with Cal about a threesome.

“Mara already told me that she believes she will marry you, Cal. Since she is spending so much time with you, maybe we should include her in our marriage.” Threesomes were becoming one of the better options in marriage relationships, and in many of the homes where fishing was practiced, they were common. In our cult, and in many other cults as I found out later, threesome marriages (they were usually two women and one man, but not always) turned out to be a workable solution, perhaps because it supplied more help with women’s work and children and more regular sex for the husband.

“I don’t know,” said Cal. “That’s a big responsibility for me.” I knew Cal well enough to understand that he had something else on his mind.

“Don’t you like her?” I asked. Mara was a cute, petite French woman, who was four years younger than I, and many people said we looked like sisters. We both had long blond hair and blue eyes, wore the same size clothes, although I was taller, and we both loved to dance.

“Yes, I do like her very much.”

“Well, is it the sex?”

“No, of course, it is different than it is with you. But it’s still fine.”

“Don’t you believe in threesomes?”

“Well, I have been thinking about it too, of course. It would make a lot of sense, especially if we move to Monte Carlo. But…I’m concerned about you.”

“oh, I don’t mind. Not at all. Don’t worry about me. I like Mara very much.” I could see Cal’s face flush as I said this.

“So you don’t mind sharing me with someone permanently? You know, I am serious about marriage. And if I marry her, it will be for good. “

“oh, I understand. I don’t care. I mean, yes, I know you are concerned and will take good care of her.”

“I want to take care of you too.”

“Don’t worry about me. I don’t need extra attention. I won’t be jealous at all.”

“That’s what I mean, Jeshanah. I think you don’t care at all. Is this a way for you to get further away from me emotionally?” It was like he had thrown cold water on my face. It woke me up.

I had been so excited about the prospect of Cal having another wife, I had not stopped to ponder why I liked the idea so much. I assumed it was because I was a true revolutionary, but in that moment of truth, I knew that I would be relieved to have someone share the burden of being a mate to Cal. I could never tell him that, however. It would hurt him too much. There were other threesome arrangements in the Family, and the testimonies in our Family mag were full of praise for this new idea. I bought into it, thinking it was a logical alternative for loveless marriages. Unfortunately, Cal seemed to love me in a nonrevolutionary way, so I tried to reassure him.

“Cal, we will always be connected because of Thor.”

“You won’t try to leave me if I marry her?”

“You know you can’t really marry her. That would be illegal.” I laughed, but Cal was still very serious.

“All right, I will talk to the leaders about it.” Mara, of course, said she already knew this would happen. With her on our team, we had enough help to start a new home, so we started living like a separate “home” even while in Nice. Two of us went out witnessing and making money while one stayed home with Thor. We began praying for a small home in Monte Carlo.

During our first excursions to Monte Carlo, Mara and I had met Jean, a native Monegasque who was close to fifty. Both Mara and I were in our early twenties. Jean seemed to like me, but he enjoyed Mara’s company more. As I listened to the two of them converse in French, I became acutely aware of my lack of education and culture. Although I had been to college, and Mara had not even finished high school, she knew so much more about literature, history, music, and art than I did. Jean and she discussed topics I could not even enter into. I felt that I would have to educate myself. But how could I do that? We were not supposed to read anything but Mo letters. And after my previous experience as the Uneager Beaver, I surely should not be reading books.

Instead, I began to pay more attention to every piece of culture and knowledge I could glean from the people I met. Not only did this increase my own knowledge, it also made me seem more interested in the other person, which was a wonderful asset to my role as a witness.

Our prayers for a home in Monte Carlo were soon answered. Mara knew a young man who owned a basement apartment in Monte Carlo. It was not in very good condition, but he said that if we fixed it up, we could stay there rent-free. We accepted immediately and moved into the exclusive Monaco principality with little more than our suitcases.

Thor was three years old now, and I spent a few hours each day teaching him to read and learn math. Sometimes I took him panhandling and distributing literature with us, but usually he stayed home with Cal.

We all enjoyed the wonderful Monaco parks and beaches daily.

Everything was within walking distance, which was extremely convenient since we never owned a car. Since Mara had already given herself to a Monegasque taxi driver, we obtained free taxi rides whenever we needed to travel a distance.

Among our first “fish” were an Italian businessman, an American lawyer, and the son of a famous actress. All of them were given sexual love in order to reach them with God’s message. None of these early fish ever gave us money, although they often took us out to eat as a family or bought us gifts, such as a bed for Thor, shoes, or groceries. Many of the women in the Family were spending a considerable amount of time with their fish, and so we felt it was a sign of the Lord’s blessing when we were given these “gifts.” Since there were only three adults among us, we decided that as long as any two of us agreed, we should go to bed with the man. We were careful to keep clean, and since Mo now told us to go to the doctor to be checked for sexually transmitted diseases, whenever someone had any type of health concern, we took care of it immediately. However, due to prayer or luck, we never got anything serious.

My first experience with the jet-set elite took me by complete surprise. In a club, I had met an interesting American who took my phone number. The next evening, I received a call from him.

“Hello, is this Jeshanah?” asked a voice I remembered from the previous night.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Well, you remember me, Tony?”

“Yes, it is nice to hear you again. “

“I thought you might like to go to a party tonight. A friend of mine is having a delightful party in Cannes. I could send you a chauffeur and car in one hour.”

“Yes, I would like that very much,” I said, not knowing if Cal would agree or not.

“How should I dress?”

“Wear the best outfit you have. This is a chic affair.” We arranged a time and I gave him my address.

Then I went to talk to Cal.

“You should have asked if Mara could come,” he reprimanded. “You know I don’t like you to go alone on the first date.” It was an established rule of the Family. Ever since our first days in the group, we were told to always go out two by two, which was the way Jesus sent his disciples to witness. Also,“since the devil walked around as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour” (I Peter 5, 8), we were told to stay together for spiritual safety and to remind each other about our spiritual mission. Actually, I was never completely alone with anyone outside the Family until I started this new type of ministering with my body. I had my excuses ready.

“Well, Mara met him last night. I thought that would count as a first date.” I did not know why I forgot to ask about Mara. Perhaps I did not want to take her along. Mara made me feel inferior in some way, and she usually pointed out mistakes I made later when we discussed the evening together. Also, I was beginning to enjoy the extra personal freedom I had recently acquired with our move to Monaco.

“What will you wear?” asked Mara, who knew she had better taste in clothes than I did.

“I thought I would wear the dress that Jeanie gave me,” I answered.

Jeanie was a famous singer in France who had been a friend of ours in Paris. She often gave us her “old” performing clothes, which the leaders usually took. However, a long silk dress with a deep slit up the front was given to me since I was tall and thin enough to wear it.

I felt very self-conscious in the sexy dress, and I never wore it out to the clubs.

Mara thought it was too gaudy and made a face.

“Well, if it was good enough for her as a singer on stage, I’m sure it will do fine,” I said. “There is nothing else anyway.” The real problem would be a coat. We settled on a beige raincoat, the newest thing I owned but still vintage. We had group prayer before I left, but I was a little apprehensive. Both Cal and Mara clearly disapproved of me going alone. We did not even know where I was going in Cannes.

For the first time I began to worry about safety, but I tried not to show it. After all, it was my idea to go alone.

I bathed, as we always did before a date. My waist-length hair hung straight down my back as usual, but the recent shampoo had added body.

I wore a little makeup now, some lipstick, eye shadow, and mascara, and I sprayed on some cologne. The black going-out shoes I always wore matched the dress, but they looked frayed. I wore no jewelry at all except a necklace with a gold heart and a circle inside, a symbol often drawn by Mo on his personal letters of love to us. It had been given to me by a kindhearted female leader in Paris. The only other piece of jewelry I owned was another Family symbol, which we called David’s Harp. It had been specially made for me by Cal. I looked in the mirror before leaving and saw how tatty the raincoat looked, so I took it off and held it over my arm.

The chauffeur who picked me up did not speak to me the whole way to Cannes, about a one-hour ride on the lower cornice road. When he pulled onto a small road leading through the woods, I felt uneasy and tried to glean information from him on my whereabouts.

“Whose house is this we are going to?” I asked.

“You will find out,” he retorted curtly.

I wondered if I was being kidnapped. Perhaps the driver was part of a pornography ring. I really did not know this Tony guy well, and now that I thought about it, he seemed a little sinister.

BOOK: Heaven's Harlots: My Fifteen Years in a Sex Cult
9.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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