Secret Sins Ch. 13

"Why? How old are you?" I asked innocently.

"Wh- fuck, that's exactly what I mean, right there!"

"When you told me how old you were, did you tell me Donna's age, or yours? I'm sorry, but I actually have to ask because, obviously I have to and, also obviously, I know you'd never hurt me, so why shouldn't I? Um, I mean that respectfully," I said, finishing up with what I thought was a sensible placation of her sometimes volatile nature. Despite that nature, I knew it was true that she'd never hurt me, at least not in the way I'd been thinking.

She continued to look at me with the same, incensed expression for a few seconds, then pulled the covers aside with a flourish. She wore the most beautiful little babydoll nightdress I'd ever seen. It was gold and made of silk and fine lace, cut in such a way as to be suggestive of a child's dress, yet unimaginably sexy on an adult woman. The contrast was a total mindblower and it blew any piece of lingerie I owned right out of the water. However, as I well know, lingerie is made by the body it adorns and, as I've mentioned, Donna's body was utterly perfect. Her boobs languished in deceptive innocence inside the bodice while showing enough cleavage to drive any man or lesbian wild, but it was the lower portion that really got my attention.

Its hem stopped just above her crotch, allowing the two strap on dildos to lie over the silk and lace that covered her lower belly. They were long and thick, but also shiny, practically running with lube, and my eyes bugged out as my chin hit the floor.

"I've been lying here, all ready for you to finally get up here so I could take out a little punishment on your ass. But then I cooled down and thought, "no, I'll let it go this time." And what do I get? Little miss fucking inquiry! Get over here!"

"Donna, that's..." I trailed of, more than a little worried about this, and it showed.

"Oh, don't fret," she said, demeanor suddenly taunting. "You know I'd never hurt you, so you have nothing to be afraid of..."

"I take it back," I quickly recanted.

"Uh huh. Tell me, sweetie pie... have you ever been fucked up the ass?"

"Oh... my God... But that will hurt..."

With an incredible expression that both frightened and aroused me, she replied, "Yes. I rather expect it will. Now, come here."

"Oh my god, Donna, not my tushie..." I plead, taking a hesitant step forward, incapable of tearing my eyes away from her menacing cocks, bobbing and staining her beautiful lingerie with their oils.

She held out her hand and I slowly closed the distance, wanting to turn and run, but also beginning to imagine turning my pussy and ass over to this.

"That's it," she teased, her smirk half sneer now. "Just like a good little lamb to the slaughter."

And then she had my hand, gently, but firmly guiding me up on the bed, making me walk on my knees until I was a few feet away from the bedhead. With another demonstration of her strength, she suddenly had me off balance. As I let out a small, startled cry, she grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand down behind the pillows where the mattress met the bedhead, revealing a shiny, two foot metal rod with manacles at each end. At the midpoint of the rod was a chain that allowed less than a foot of play before it disappeared down between the end of the mattress and the bedhead, the other end probably secured to the bedframe.

Then, before one could say 'BDSM', she had first one, then both my wrists secured to the restraint. And there I was, on my hands and knees, completely at her mercy as her hands slowly caressed my shoulders, neck, back and sides, sometimes squeezing, sometimes, tickling as every one of my nerves stood on edge.

"A-are you gonna make this hurt?" I worried in a small voice.

"Um, yes, I'm thinking I will."

With that, she gave the back of my thigh a sudden slap, making me squeal in surprise as much as the sting her hand had left.

"Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no!" I crooned, trembling now with fear and building arousal.

You see, though she couldn't truly influence me, she'd still found a very effective way to make me enjoy the experience of being controlled, and I could only love her all the more for it, despite my fear of what she was going to do to my tushie.

"Why are you wearing that pig's clothing anyway?" she asked, taking a fistful of Donna's dress at the small of my back. "It's nice, but it doesn't match your hair and skin tone."

"I-I put it on after-"

"Shut up, sweetie pie," she told me, slowly drawing the back of the dress up as I could only look behind and watch, eying the twin destroyers she'd strapped to her pelvic region. "Oh... no panties..."

After leaving the lower portion of the dress hanging from the small of my back, she slowly caressed my tushie, squeezing, pinching and suddenly giving it a slap that made me shriek.

"You're trembling," she noted in a menacingly sweet tone, slowly orienting herself to an advantageous position behind me. "Are you afraid?"

"Y-yes, I-"

"Well, that's good, sweetie pie. Because you have a lot of fucking nerve for such a young woman."

"I'm sorry, I-"

(SLAP!)

"Aaaaahhh!" I yelled.

"You see? I didn't ask you a question, or give you permission to speak, but you opened your pretty little mouth anyway. Such a nervy little bitch. Your parents should have done this to you a long time ago."

Something touched my crotch, between my pussy and anus. A hard, slippery something that was joined by another such something that nudged my clitoris.

"Noooooooo!" I moaned, wondering if she'd have any mercy on my poor flower at all.

"You and your insistent, irritating, impertinent questions. Questions that you goddamned well know I don't want to deal with right now, but you just don't give a fuck."

"Please, please, please, have mercyyyy!" I begged.

Then the end of one of the strapped dildo's pushed at the opening of my pussy, spreading my lips and making me howl. The other one began to press at my anus as she kept talking.

"In my day, we respected our elders, but you privileged little whores running around these days just treat them like they're in the way, like you don't have to earn the respect that they did. Especially you, parading yourself in that fucking uniform like you're some kind of authority, meanwhile you're wearing the sluttiest lingerie that your money can buy underneath..."

She shoved herself forward, the dildo at my pussy inserting itself just inside while the other one began forcing its way inside my anus. I squawked in pain, my eyes opening even wider than they had been. I'd always heard that it was best to relax the sphincter when being analized, this information frantically jumping up and down in its need to be helpful amidst my scattered thought process. But I was finding it very difficult to relax any part of my body under the psychological duress she was putting me through and another stinging slap to my tushie made me cry out again before she continued through my loud, painful groans.

"Demanding to know who I am, what my name is, and now coming in here with the fucking nerve to-"

She pushed harder, both dildo's slipping further inside, stretching me out, but it was the one that was burrowing up my tushie that really hurt, and I thanked God that she'd at least doused the thing in some sort of lubricant as I shrieked again.

(SLAP!)

"Aaaah, God, please, Donna!"

"-make more demands!"

In concert with her words, she repeatedly shoved herself forward. The pain was unreal, but there was also an unexpected aspect of satisfaction within that pain. Yes, it was in part psychological, but also physical, and I could feel my own essences running down my inner thighs as I hollered, her words registering as disjointed details of the erotic torture she was inflicting upon me.

"You ask for it!"

"Ahhhhhh, Please, Donna, nooooo!" I begged as she shoved herself forward again with the word 'ask'.

"Over...!" she grunted, pulling my hair and shoving forward again, impaling my poor tushie further and further, word by unbelievable word as she went on grunting and shoving.

"Aaaaaawwww, fuuuck, pleeeease!"

"-and over...!"

"Uooaaaaaaaa!"

"-and over...!"

"Gwaaaaaaaaaa- haaa, haaaaaaaa!"

"-and over...!"

"Naaaaaaaaa, pleeeeeeese!"

"-and over...!"

"Staaaaaaaaaaaaaawppp!"

"-and over...!"

"Daaaaawwwnnaaaaaaa!!!"

-and over...!"

"AHHHHHHHH!!!

"-again!"

And that's when I came. It was an orgasm that seemed to explode from my pussy, smashing my senses flat as I drooled on the mattress. Both my holes were full, and the feeling, despite the pain or because of it, was purely sensational. I'd never imagined such treatment, or that I'd enjoy it in such a perverse and agonizing way.

But it wasn't over. Even as I was climaxing, she pulled back, almost completely out of me, producing a hiccupping wail from my mouth. Then she proceeded to fuck both my pussy and anus without mercy, shoving my face down into the mattress and pounding me hard with my tushie up in the air. I was helpless. I was being used, abused without regard, and I loved it. I loved her for knowing I would and doing this to me, and my orgasm seemed to go on and on as I screamed into the mattress.

I stretched again, writhing against Donna's body. She was so beautiful, and I loved her so much. I traced her brow ridge with the light tip of my index finger, smiling as she did while she lay there with her eyes closed.

"Am I really that irritating?" I asked.

"You're very curious and persistent," she sleepily elaborated with a smile. "Little whore."

I giggled in reply, tracing her wonderful lips.

"Good points, really," she gave me, "just damned annoying."

"I wouldn't be so bad if it was just us."

After a frowning pause, she looked at me and asked, "What do you mean?"

" ... I'm not even sure," I half laughed.

"Yes, you are."

" ... Well... I guess I just mean that if you and I were a couple and not having these supersexual encounters with others, at least not innocent people like the Bennetts, maybe I'd be able to relax a little and figure out what to do."

"Oh," Donna said, obviously never having considered that. "Is that what you want?"

"Donna, it's just something that popped into my head," I honestly told her. "Our relationship has been open, kind of not a relationship at all, but more a..."

"Sexual wingmen?"

"Yeah, exactly. Don't get me wrong, you're so much more to me than that, it's just... I don't know."

"You want stability."

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Maybe I need stability."

"So you can save your career."

"Among other things."

"So you can go on being a good Salvation Army Officer, make Major before thirty, helping the downtrodden while going home to your assistant at the end of the day, also your Lesbian lover."

I blinked a couple times at this."

"You really haven't thought that through, have you?"

No, I hadn't.

Tuesday morning. I stood in the front room of the Mission, staring at the closed office door. It had occurred to me that all during the defilation of the Hubas and the Caraways, I hadn't thought about the thing in the basement, whatever it was. In fact, I hadn't thought of it until Donna and I pulled up to the curb that morning.

I'm not sure if it was having been away for two days that made it easier to be in the Mission, possibly the fact that she was there with me, or maybe all the other events that had happened since, but the basement incident had more or less slipped my mind since the morning of the day before, before we'd become distracted with the Pentecostal contingent.

Donna was in the kitchen, fiddling with something while singing in French. When she emerged, she saw me standing there, saw where I was staring and came to a halt herself, looking at the sinister office door with our Tim's coffee cups in her hands. After a moment, she walked closer, her heels knocking the hardwood, hips swaying seductively in her gold dress pants, boobs lightly bouncing in the black, short sleeve pullover she wore.

"Here," she said, passing me my coffee. "Spiked with Russia's finest, just the way you like it."

"Thank you," I quietly said, the ghost of a smile on my lips.

We both regarded the office door in silence, sipping at our coffee and just standing there for a minute before I spoke again.

"Maybe it's a poltergeist. They aren't necessarily attached to structures, and I think they've been known to get passed around..."

"That's actually possible. In fact, I've already thought of that."

"Did you try to drive it away?"

"I'd like to know how."

"Just tell it to go away in the name of Jesus."

"An exorcism?"

"Come on, Donna, stop making fun. These things have worked."

"Not for the reasons you think, but that's beside the point as long as it doesn't speak to me."

"You're not the only one involved. In fact, as you point out, you're kind of not even involved."

"Tara, I hope you're not thinking of doing anything stupid. I told you to stay away from it. We'll deal with this in the way it needs to be dealt with, and that will be the end of it, I promise."

"Right. I need to run from that too."

"What's this?"

"Nothing,"

"Don't tell me nothing, tell me what you feel like you're running away from."

"What do I not feel like I'm running away from? If I could at least just tackle one problem at a time, but my mind can only run fretting from one to another. Like my choice between you and my career."

"There's a choice?"

"Well, you've made a pretty good point about that."

"Yes, I did."

"It seems like an ultimatum."

"In a sense it is, but it's not one that I've given you."

"I know. That doesn't change the fact that I have to lose something that's very important to me."

"If you're resentful for having to lose something, think how I feel while my future with you is being pondered."

Her words only made the bad situation worse, and I began to cry. She took me in her arms and I willingly fell into them, an act in itself that made me wonder how I could ever give her up for the Army, for Hurdle's Army, where every uniform was nothing more than a status symbol unto itself. But the thought of resigning now...

The only alternative was to continue my career while trying to hide Donna. Even if that were possible, it would be unfair to her, unrealistic to me and eventually damaging to what would be the both of us.

"Things were a lot simpler while I was allowing you to think of me as your wingman, huh?" she asked.

I nodded, surprised for some reason at the truth of this. Yes, it somehow seemed more feasible to go on being an Officer by day, a total slut at night. But this behaviour also threatened my career, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before something along the lines of the Pentecostal contingent recurred. And this time, maybe it wouldn't be so easily contained.

We separated, looking each other in the eyes for a moment. While I know that mine held no small amount of personal misery, hers held sympathy. Of course, she expected me to choose her. If she thought the Army had any chance, she wouldn't be so calm about it.

I was about to get into that when the front door opened. I turned to see Darren Bennett walk in with a boner in his shorts and his sister in tow.

With sunny smiles, they both said hi, and Donna looked at me with an evil grin, her mood of only moments before completely changed.

"Why don't you go on that morning walkabout you planned? Mull things over while I take these two up to your bedroom and, um... show them some of the reasons why Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed."

I was wearing my non-regulation uniform that day. This consisted of the tight, stretchy black skirt that was only just long enough to cover the tops of my gartered stockings with a black shelf bra under my white Martha blouse, its top button undone. For comfort's sake, I chose my regulation heels, though I would have preferred a pair of pumps. My nipples were hard, and I loved how they felt rubbing against my blouse, the fresh air and sunlight helping this excitingly naughty sensation to somewhat banish the mood I'd left the Mission with.

Nevertheless, the activity did help to clear my mind a little, enough to see that the reason Donna felt I'd choose her over the Army was because she knew that she was more important to me than my uniform. And she was right to feel that way because it was true. Perhaps this was an example of why she kept saying I wasn't ready to hear some things yet.

My thoughts drifted from this to my talk of a real relationship with her. She'd said that I wanted stability, and it made sense. It seemed true. At the time I'd brought it up, I honestly didn't know where the idea had come from. For a brief second, I wondered it was due to her effect on me, but decided against that. As it was, I was surprised she didn't argue vehemently any idea of monogamy. Donna, primarily, was a parasite. It wasn't about monogamy for her and, I was suddenly quite sure, the only reason she didn't balk at the very idea of such was because she could see the bigger question of how she could fit into the kind of life I'd been aiming at. Remembering Lesbiana and other life changing sexual events I'd experienced with her, I knew she'd never want to leave that behind should I choose her over the Army.

And yes, it was clear when I was out walking, or at other times where I didn't have quite enough vodka in my system to keep my guilt at bay, that when I was around Donna, I just went along. I'd find myself consumed by her fires of lust, my morals and better judgement incinerated in the overwhelming inferno of what my base desires wanted. She'd even told me as much, how I was affected by her presence.

I wondered what I would have thought six weeks ago, when I was still at CFOT, if I'd been able to visit myself six weeks in the future. How would I have taken the knowledge that I would soon be involved in a hot, lesbian affair? And that was just to start with. What I always judged to be unacceptable behaviour for myself, or anybody, had become a part of my life. And more and more, this behaviour was becoming acceptable to me, somehow easier and easier to perpetrate and justify. My sexual obsession and my willing abuse of the vulnerable were all becoming the new normal, the royal decrees of the Queen of Filth as she demanded more and more...

Even then, thoughts of whatever excitingly taboo things Donna was doing with the two Bennett siblings made my pussy tingle, even knowing how wrong it was, how they were only innocents being abused and victimized. And I knew that, if I'd been there, I'd be participating in their abuse and victimization without even a thought.

Still being honest with myself, I knew that I'd be just as turned on by such imaginings before I ever met Donna. Why wouldn't I be? Horny is horny, and it didn't matter if I was addicted to porn, or the real thing. I was always perverted, and now that I knew I was actually related to Donna in some way, I knew why. It was because... I wasn't completely human. Somewhere inside of me, there was something of her.

My heart was pounding with disturbing revelation, and I was glad for the Russian coffee I'd earlier enjoyed, a serendipitous brace against the suddenly established reality of what I was. I actually felt sorry for my parents. They had no idea what they'd brought home twenty years earlier. Two more victims, and the first of mine, I supposed.

"Oh my God..." I moaned under my breath as my stomach started to cramp.