Secret Sins Ch. 07

I accepted this, mostly because I had no idea what I'd do at work anyway. I watched the almost total lack of scenery go by, becoming more comfortable with the anonymity of the open highway as she drove.

Neither of us said anything further until, a little less than forty-five minutes later, we were there, driving through a pleasant little city that exuded a quaint, cozy appeal. We stopped at a curb and hopped out, she feeding the parking meter while I looked around with open curiosity. It was the small town setting one would see on television and, despite myself, I felt a little better just for being there, not to mention the stiff drink she'd encouraged just before we got out of the car.

"Okay, come on," she said, starting off down the sidewalk.

I hurried to catch up, feeling my boobs bounce in their insubstantial bra and remembering how provocatively I was dressed. But, probably because of the vodka I'd been sipping, I was okay with it. It seemed fitting for this town, like I was a hot country girl or something.

Our destination was on Main Street, one of the older buildings, inside of which she bought tickets to two historical underground tours. Under Moose Jaw's Main Street are a warren of tunnels connecting basements of buildings in such a way that one could get around town without having to go topside, especially if it was eighteen-fifty-eight and one was a Chinese immigrant.

This was the first tour, called 'Passage to Fortune', basically a historical overview of how tough the Chinese immigrants had it here in Canada, the racial discrimination they faced and the grueling, inhumane working conditions they were subject to while working and living in the tunnels under Moose Jaw. An actress in period costume led us and a group of others through these tunnels, educating us by enacting her part as our supervisor while we, the tour group, played the part of Chinese immigrants who'd just arrived.

The second tour was called 'The Chicago Connection', and it was about how Al Capone, during prohibition in the States, ran a whiskey making operation in Moose Jaw. As with the first tour, our guides were in character and the tour group played the part of booze runners being shown around the warren of tunnels that Capone used to brew his liquor before smuggling it back into the States.

During the tours, I often found myself eying Donna, smiling at the woman who had quite successfully taken my mind off my woes. The tours were a great distraction and, by the time they were over and we were sitting in a small café for lunch, I did feel measurably better about myself. It was a retro diner, its décor accenting the fifties, and we sat across from each other in a booth while we waited for our chicken and chips.

"I liked the second tour better," she commented.

"Me too," I agreed. "The actors were a lot more into their roles."

"Yeah, that first one with 'Passage to Fortune' wasn't much of an actor. She didn't come across that well."

"It was still pretty good," I allowed, "just not as good as 'The Chicago Connection'. ... And I'm really glad we came. Thanks a million, Donna."

She smiled at me, reached over the table and squeezed my hand, saying, "I'd do anything for you, sweetie pie, you know that."

Yes, I did know that, but I didn't reply, my smile for her turning to one of curiosity.

As though reading my thoughts, she said, "I know, we've only known each other a couple weeks, but you and I... I care for you, Tara. A lot."

"I know," I said, still displaying my smile of curiosity. "It's like we're... I don't know."

"Family," she said.

I nodded, warmed by this and a little turned on by the refreshed realization that I had a knockout girlfriend in what I might call the 'extra platonic' sense.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yes."

"Well, we're not done yet."

After eating, we went back to the car and she drove us to a nearby hotel, and I couldn't help but grin as she was checking us in. My depression was still there in my mind, but effectively sidelined by the distractions Donna had been providing and, when we got up to our room, (one queen size bed) we only stayed long enough for me to have another drink before we were off again.

This time it was another trip for clothes, Donna claiming that I had to start replacing my baggy jeans, polo tops and 'frumpy old' blouses with clothing that was as nice as the lingerie I wore beneath them. I tried to resist, but she insisted and, since she was being so good to me, so effectively getting my mind off my crippling self-loathing, my resistance was quickly overrun.

Being not a rich woman, however, did limit my purchasing power, so I had to stick to what was on sale, but I got another couple pairs of jeans, both of them tight hip huggers, and a pair of low rise denim shorts that would take some nerve for me to wear in public. I also picked up a few skirts, summer dresses, one of them snug and sexy, a few pairs of high heeled shoes and a two piece bathing suit. Donna also bought a bathing suit for herself, telling me that I'd soon see the need before we went to the local sex boutique.

I didn't want to go in, was embarrassed to even be sitting in the car outside the shop, but she insisted. Encouraging another sip of vodka, she assured me that Salvation Army Officers were allowed to visit sex shops too, and that nobody would ever know anyway, the perk of spending the day in another town.

In this establishment, she was treating, buying me a few sleeve dresses and other totally slutty articles before picking out a long, black, double ended dildo. I was red faced, feeling spot lit by that thing as Donna paid for it and our other items, another customer staring with a leering grin on his face as the counter clerk bagged the long, thick, implement.

"Oh my God, that was awful!" I gasped, still red faced as we drove away from the curb.

"But you're smiling," Donna said, giving my thigh an affectionate squeeze.

"Yes, but not the, 'Yay, let's go again!' kind of smile!" I pointed out, taking a long glance at her braless nipples as others had been doing all day.

They seemed even more prominent now, and it was turning me on, both the look of them and the way she had no problem with walking around in public like that. The dildo she'd bought also contributed to my hormonal charge, and I had to stop myself from looking into the bag where it was hidden, lurking and waiting with apprehension as I was for the time when she'd decide to take it out of its box and use it on me/us.

But, once back at the hotel, it was our bathing suits that she retrieved from our shopping bags. Hers was a tie died number, less skimpy than what I would have imagined for her, while mine was dark blue and, if anything, skimpier with low rise bottoms and a triangle top that would probably have been better suited for a woman with smaller boobs than mine. Putting our clothes back on over them, we went back downstairs to the pool area, which we found closed.

"Can I help you?" the desk clerk in the navy blue blazer asked, her middle aged, professional smile unprepared for my assistant's attitude.

"The door to the pool area is locked," Donna informed with a cool smile.

"Yes, the pool area is closed until-"

"Get me the manager."

The desk clerk appeared uncertain, then briefly confused before she replied, "I'll get the manager..."

Disappearing through a door behind the counter, she left us waiting less than thirty seconds before re-emerging with a slightly short, rotund man with what might have been a hairpiece. He also wore a navy blue blazer and spoke with a French accent and a polite, but stiff tone that was ready for anything.

"May I help you?"

"The pool area," Donna said, adding, "Unlock it for us. Now."

He seemed understandably perturbed to be spoken to like that for the first second. Then a confused expression chased across his face before he brightened, replying, "Of course, Madam."

We followed him back to the pool area where he indeed unlocked the door, even holding it open for us as we entered. He turned on the lights, the overhead fixtures revealing an area done in earth tones with lots of plants, but the lights were not to Donna's liking.

"No," she said. "Turn some of the lights out; we want it cozy and intimate."

He complied, killing all the lights except for the ones in the pool and the hot tub before rushing off, seeing to other things as we headed for the changing room. After stripping down to our suits, Donna led the way to the hot tub, which the manager had just finished with, the surface of the water roiling while I felt helplessly exposed in my new bikini. I'd never worn one before, always a modest, one piece number that more than covered all my womanly assets.

"Will that be all, Madam?"

"Get us drinks," she replied while stepping into the water. "A double whiskey sour for me, a double screwdriver for my friend."

"Yes, Madam, right away, Madam," he obediently promised before hurrying off to do her bidding.

I could only follow her down, meaning to comment on her short, yet very effective way with people until I was distracted by the lovely hot water as I stepped deeper and deeper until it was up to my waist. I could only smile, watching her do the same as she found a seat, her head and upper chest protruding above the bubbling water that was lit from beneath to create a strange effect in her beautiful, golden hazel eyes.

"Ohhh, this is so nice!" I said as I settled down opposite her, glad to hide my body from the public view, though we were all alone in the pool area.

"I know," she agreed. "I just love immersing my body in hot water. Feels so good."

"Yeah, well if you've ever spent any real time in Iqaluit," I informed with an appreciative smile, "you'd see a tub full of hot water like I do: Heaven. And I say that as a pastor."

"Hottest little fuckin' pastor I've ever seen."

"Donna!" I admonished with a smile.

"I'm glad to see you feeling better."

"I'm glad to be feeling better," I said. "Wasn't feeling too good this morning, though."

"No."

"Thank you, Donna. I mean that. I really needed today. I mean, it doesn't change what I've done, and I... I still have to deal with that somehow, but you've taken the edge off and I'm so grateful for that, you can't imagine."

"We'll talk about how grateful you are and my imagination once we get back up to our room," she said with a grin, "but for now... you're right. I've helped you to feel better, here in the short term, but I haven't really helped you. You have to go back to your life at some point and, I guarantee you, once you do, once you're there and having to deal with practical reality, all this won't be of any help."

"I know," I admitted, my smile fading as I cast morose eyes between us on the water's frothing surface.

"Have you thought about this Friday's meeting with the Major?" she asked.

"Trying not to."

"I'll bet. So, you have no idea how you're going to handle it?"

With a humourless laugh, I stated, "Donna, he's basically blackmailing me. I won't be the one handling anything. That'll be all him."

"Mm. I know you had some kind of little... thing for him before, but how do you feel about him now?"

" ... Disappointed. And I feel stupid for feeling that way because... well, what in hell did I honestly expect? He's a successful career Officer, already married to a beautiful woman and still on his way up. His uncle is the Territorial Commander! What use did I think he'd have for me? All I was to him was a fundraising opportunity, and it makes me feel so used and... worthless... to him. ... Dammit! I feel like such a fool!"

"You don't think he's attracted to you?" Donna asked. "By the way you described him jerking off while you masturbated for him, I would've thought he'd see you as more than a financial means to his own ends. And don't forget your physical similarities to his wife."

"Sure, he's attracted to me, but if he... if he wanted me, he wouldn't have used me the way he did, and geez, I feel so stupid even saying that! Of course he doesn't want me! Like he was gonna throw his career and marriage away for me?"

"A lot of men would, but he's basically a slimeball of a different sort. So, I ask you again... How do you feel about him now?"

"Like I wanna kick his fuckin' face in!" I vehemently spat, surprised and stunned immediately thereafter at my language and the violent rage behind it.

"It's alright, sweetie pie," Donna assured with a motherly smile for me. "It's quite understandable that you'd feel that way, and you don't have to be ashamed about it, or about voicing it. Feelings like that are better admitted to and brought out into the open where they can be dealt with, than kept bottled up inside where they can only leak out and poison you over time."

I nodded and she allowed a pause to go by before asking, "So, how do you want to deal with him this Friday?"

"Well, I don't want to take all my clothes off for him again," I growled. "That's for sure. But I'll have to."

"Exactly what is it that you're protecting from him?" she asked as she repositioned herself.

Shaking my head, I replied, "You name it. My career, my personal reputation... my parents... I don't even want to think about what they'd think of me if they ever received a copy of what I did in his office. And he's probably recorded everything, all three meetings, and... (sigh!) Not to mention his uncle. It wouldn't only be my career, all my hard work down the drain, but Hurdle's made it pretty clear that he could have my parents shipped somewhere even worse than Iqaluit, and it would be all my fault. And so I have to keep doing what he wants, probably digging myself in even deeper until... Geez, I'm so stupid!"

I was starting to cry again and Donna softly refuted, "You're not stupid, sweetie pie. You're just a horny young woman who became attracted to the wrong man. Believe me, you wouldn't be the first young woman to have problems like this, and you will find a way out of them."

"How?" I asked, miserably wiping at my tears.

"You will," she repeated with a sympathetic smile. "I promise. In the meantime, I want you to understand that, consequences aside, you are in control. Not him. Only you control your actions, and those actions will always be subject to your own motivations, be they fear or desire. Which brings me to- oh, here's our drinks."

I was busy processing her words, seeing their wisdom and even finding a little comfort in them as the hotel manager crouched with a round tray that held our drinks in those disposable, clear plastic tumblers with beer logos on them. Donna took hers, and I stood and waded over to get mine without much of a thought to my wet, almost naked upper body.

Two men had also entered behind him, looking around the dim pool area. When they saw the final destination of the hotel manager, they exchanged a few words before beginning to make their casual way to the hot tub.

"Will you ladies require anything else?" the manager asked Donna.

"Not right now, I don't think," she replied, actually being a little polite about it before adding, "Maybe check back in a half hour."

"Very well, Madam." he agreed with a generous smile before taking his leave of us.

In his place, the two visitors then approached. Both of them were in their early thirties and looked pretty fit in their Bermuda type swim trunks, like they had gym memberships that they actually used. They stepped up to the tub, taking a good, smiling look at my chest as Donna turned to regard them while taking a sip from her glass.

"Hey, ladies," one of them greeted with a nervous smile. "Would you two like some compa-?"

"Get the fuck outta here," Donna ordered in a voice almost cold enough to freeze the water in the hot tub.

They looked at her with expressions of surprise, their eyes soon widening in what looked like fear as they hastily backed away.

"If we want you, we'll tell you," she directed in that same tone. "Go wait in the pool."

"Y-yeah, we'll..." the one who'd offered their company stammered.

"The pool," the other finished before they both turned and walked to the pool, getting into the shallow end.

She turned again and I looked at her with alarmed curiosity, asking, "How do you do that?"

"What?"

"You tell people what to do, and they... they just do it. You're not even nice about it."

With a sudden smile that her eyes took no part in, she replied, "People like me, sweetie pie."

And there it was again. For only a split second, not quite long enough to produce a tingling chill over my back, that elusive darkness that I'd seen in the forever lost picture was there in her eyes, looking right back at me. It was gone so fast that I wasn't even sure I'd seen it, and only her voice snapped me out of my frozen shock as I stood there in the waist deep, churning water with my drink.

"Now, where was I? ... Oh, yes. Fear and desire," she remembered as she looked up at me thoughtfully, nothing but love and kindness in her dazzlingly bright eyes now. "Tell me something, my scrumptious little piece of meat... Why do you think we do the things that we do? Humanity, I mean. What motivates people's choices and their resulting actions?"

" ... Fear and desire?" I asked.

"I gave you that," she told me with a grin and a wink. "But yes, fear and desire. You may be able to come up with other reasons but, I assure you, they'll all boil down to either one of these two base reasons. Okay?"

"Okay," I shrugged.

"So... why did you get up on that stage to allow yourself to be auctioned off?"

After a moment's thought, I replied, "Because I was afraid of the consequences if I didn't. Like I told you, Major Hurdle kind of threatened me and my parents in so many words, so I had no choice."

"But he was pimping out women for money. You could have refused and countered his blackmail with a whopping big threat of your own."

"I... never thought of that at the time. I was kinda drunk, and... well it would have been my word against his anyway."

"Yours and those of all the girls that were auctioned off."

"Maybe," I allowed.

"How did you feel about the auction when you first realized what was going on?"

"Outraged," I answered. "I couldn't believe it. I mean, the Salvation Army enabling what amounts to prostitution... It was just unbelievable. It still is."

"You protested?"

"Of course I did."

"And he shut you down."

"Yes. He actually justified it with scripture, if you can believe that."

"You can't imagine the things I've seen justified by scripture," Donna replied. "So, he shut you down, and then what did you do?"

" ... I watched. I went and got another drink, and then I just watched it happen."

"Did part of you enjoy it?"

Looking away from her face was enough answer, and she went on with, "It was exciting, wasn't it? Watching these young women being sold with no control... the excitement and apprehension of what may happen to them... Oh my, I wish I was there. I most certainly would have enjoyed it, and I don't blame you for it. I imagine the more you watched, the hornier you became."

I again declined answer, a forefinger absently rimming my glass as I remembered Sonia Grigson's face while she watched me being auctioned off as her own daughter licked and sucked at her pussy.

"Hm?"

"Yeah," I quietly admitted with a short nod.

"So... was fear your only motivating factor? Was it only fear that put your first foot forward to make your way to that stage where you yourself could personally experience the thrill of being auctioned off as nothing more than a sex toy?"

" ... No."

"You wanted it."

"Yes," I whispered, feeling arousal in my bikini bottoms at the memories of how that felt.