My First Night In A Sex Cult
Chapter 14 of Neophyte: My Life In A Sex Cult
This is a chapter within my memoir, Neophyte, about my time in a harmful cult called the Deer Tribe Metis Medicine Society. It is not meant to be read as a stand-alone post. To view all book chapters, click here.
The Deer Tribe is a dangerous cult. While they present themselves as a spiritual community offering healing and empowerment, their practices are rooted in manipulation, control, and cultural appropriation. Like many cults, they offer moments of genuine connection and personal insight — but these are strategically used to gain trust and draw people deeper into a harmful system. Readers are encouraged to read the entire book before forming opinions about the Deer Tribe.
Chapter 14
On a cool January evening, Matthew and I arrived at the Quodoushka 1 workshop. I was a nervous wreck.
My eyes widened when we saw the house. It was stunning. The event was held at a private residence in Moon Valley, one of Phoenix’s wealthier neighborhoods.
“This must be it,” Matthew said, noting the dozen or so cars parked in the long driveway and along the street.
Once inside, I was struck by the luxurious furniture and designer lighting. “This house is probably worth a million dollars,” Matthew whispered to me. We were greeted by a pretty, dark-haired woman who marked our names off a list, handed us each a waiver to sign, and gave us our Quodoushka 1 manuals. She then motioned us toward the refreshments table, where we could help ourselves to coffee, tea, and platters of cheese and crackers.
As we chatted with the other participants, my nerves began to calm. Everyone was extremely friendly. For most of us, this was our first Quodoushka workshop, and I was surprised by how old the participants seemed. Most appeared to be in their 50s or 60s.
Matthew and I walked into the teaching space, set up in the home’s living room. I saw a long, U-shaped leather sofa on the floor, surrounded by chairs and cushions. At the front of the room, facing the seating area, was a couch draped in beautiful Pendleton blankets. In front of it, a flower-patterned shawl covered a coffee table, where a marriage basket held a crystal skull.
At seven o’clock, Necea Klein breezed into the room wearing flowing, floral-pattern clothing and a pearl necklace. Her eye makeup was tastefully done, and her blonde hair was arranged stylishly. She held a small hand drum and began a rhythmic beat, and almost immediately, four others joined her side, singing along.
Hey, yah hey-yah yah hey-yah yay hey-yah!
Hey, yah hey-yah yah hey-yah yah hey-yah!
Hey, yah hey-yah yah o-wey-o hey, yey yoi!
The song drew people from around the house. Necea and her companions wore bright smiles, sang with energy, and used their hands, encouraging us to stand, join in, and move our bodies. The song was repeated several times before it came to an end.
“Welcome, welcome to our Quodoushka level one workshop!” Necea announced when the song had finished. “If you’ve come for the dancing, we start the music every morning at nine o’clock sharp, so don’t be a minute late!”
Necea’s smile radiated warmth as she jutted one side of her hip forward. She had a presence that commanded attention. We had all taken our seats, and Necea stood in front of the blanket-covered couch, surrounded by her four companions. All eyes were on her, completely enraptured, waiting to hear what came next.
“We have a fantastic weekend planned for you, and I am just so delighted to be here. My name is Necea Keeps The Fire, and our instructors and wonderful neophytes will now introduce themselves before we tell you what we’ll be doing this evening.”
A blonde woman who appeared to be in her 60s stepped forward. Her voice was rich and low, carrying a lovely New Zealand accent as she introduced herself as Mukee Breezes Love. Next, Brian Hayes, whom I recognized from SunDance and had been told SwiftDeer had named as his successor, stepped forward. He introduced himself as Brian Spinning Coyote.
“We have two lovely neophytes who are training to be Quodoushka instructors,” Necea said, gesturing to a middle-aged couple sitting nearby. “Nikki and Jason. We are so happy to have them here with us.”
Necea, Brian, Mukee, Nikki, and Jason gave their personal Quodoushka testimonies. Then, Necea launched into a history of Quodoushka, describing SwiftDeer’s initiation into sacred sexuality. She referred to him as a nagual and called him “Thunderstrikes.”
She quickly introduced the logistics staff. Josh, the homeowner and logistics lead, was tall and thin and had a South African accent. He introduced the members of his team, which included his wife Valerie, and provided us with a list of house rules. Once Josh finished, Nikki stood up with a large conch shell filled with the familiar smudge mixture. She lit the mixture and demonstrated how to “smudge” ourselves with the feather fan bound in leather. The room filled with the delicious aroma of sage, sweetgrass, and cedar as the bowl passed from person to person.
While the smudge bowl moved around the room, the instructors and neophytes began setting out their pipe mesas for the ceremony.
Even though the pipe ceremony was a significant part of the medicine on this path, and everyone seemed deeply moved by it, I secretly found it boring. The ceremonies were long, and unless you had a pipe yourself, there was little to do but sit and listen. However, the smoking and conjuring had a profound impact on the space. I felt a shift in energy—both in myself, in the room, and in the people.
With the ceremony complete and the pipes safely stowed away, Mukee jumped up excitedly. “We are now going to have our first little exercise,” she said brightly. “I want you to turn to the person next to you and share how you learned about sex. Take about two or three minutes, and then I’ll have you switch.”
The room filled with the chatter of voices as Matthew and I exchanged a glance. He smiled and said to me, “Go!”
“Well,” I said, feeling rattled, as I had never shared these details with Matthew before. “I learned about sex when I was really, really young. My mother told me what it was, and she also, well, she kind of taught my brother and me to masturbate. Those details are kind of fuzzy. And sometimes I would wake up in my parents’ bed, and they would be having sex right next to me. I think I was five or six when this happened.”
I felt myself detach from my words, as if I were floating out of my body. I felt spaced out and numb. I waited for Matthew’s look of shock or horror, but his expression remained unflinching. I noticed my throat constrict, freezing my voice, and I fell silent, unable to say anything more.
I heard Nikki’s voice rise above the rest, announcing that it was time to switch. I tried to listen to Matthew’s story, but my racing thoughts kept me distracted and on edge. Had I shared too much?
“Alright, everyone, it’s time, so finish your story quickly,” Mukee’s voice rang out.
“Isn’t it fascinating to discover how we learned about sex?” she asked rhetorically once everyone had stopped speaking and turned their attention back to the front of the room. “You’ll find that every time you share with someone, you’ll tell a different story. Isn’t that great?”
A glimmer of hope surged in my heart at her words. Did that mean I could tell any kind of story I wanted? That I didn’t have to share what really happened?
Go to Chapter 15.