Secret Sins Ch. 12

Squirting Pentecostal Pussy

It took a lot just to pull up to the curb in front of the Mission on Monday morning. I was a little early, almost ten minutes according to my new smartphone, and I just sat there in my uniform, gripping the wheel and staring at the front door through the passenger side window of my car.

It reminded me of the first day I'd pulled up to this curb, staring at this ramshackle building with way more doubts than certainty. This being a workday, I was only very lightly buzzed, possibly not even over the legal limit for driving, yet even this condition couldn't quell the apprehension that I was feeling just then.

How would I ever continue to work in this place?

Then the life was scared out of me when the passenger door abruptly opened. Moments later, Donna was sitting in the seat beside me, having slammed the door against the heat that my air conditioned car could keep at bay.

"Hey, sweetie pie," she greeted, her eyes curiously looking me over. "How's your scrumptious little self this morning?"

"Not, um... not too well," I admitted, still curious and cautious of her in addition to my feelings about the Mission.

She nodded, commiserating with, "I don't like basements either. Finished basements aren't so bad, but... still."

"What is it?" I quietly asked, looking at the side of her face while silently asking myself the same question regarding her. "What's down there?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"Well... what do you know about it?"

" ... I've had some indirect dealings with it before. A long time ago."

"What do you mean?" I asked, still watching her profile as she gazed through the windshield, down the street as though she could see her past down at the corner of Rae and Fifth. Recollection had turned her mood a bit somber as she heaved a sigh before replying.

"It's never bothered me personally, but it's destroyed others who were very important to me."

"So, it's dangerous," I assumed from this. "It can hurt me."

"Yes, it can, but it won't. I won't let it. Not this time. As long as you trust me and do as I tell you, it won't hurt you and, before long, it won't be able to even reach you. Not ever again."

"Why?"

She smiled a little, her melancholy evaporating somewhat as she turned to face me, changing the subject, or so I'd thought, with, "Do you trust me, Tara?"

" ... Yes. Yes, I do," I truthfully replied.

"And part of the reason you trust me is that you've learned through getting to know me that you can. If I'd have simply told you that you could trust me when we first met, the morning when I first knocked on that door three weeks ago, that would've meant nothing to you, in fact, understandably, that probably would have made you distrust me, if anything. Right?"

I nodded.

"So instead, you learned for yourself over these past weeks that you can trust me. In much the same way, if I'd simply told you that first morning there on the doorstep that I could influence people's minds, their actions and words, you would never have believed me. Understandably, you probably would have thought I was a delusional retard. Right?"

I nodded again.

"On the other hand, If I'd taken control of someone right in front of you on that first day, and in such a way that it would be impossible for you to be mistaken about what was happening, well that wouldn't go over very well either, would it?"

"No," I replied.

"Of course not. You wouldn't have been able to handle it. You would've run screaming, or tried to exorcise me, or whatever. Instead, I allowed you to see and experience just enough to arouse your suspicions, just enough to make you pay attention and to slowly determine for yourself what was going on, while at the same time coming to love and trust me just the same."

"You... yes," I affirmed with a nod, understanding now what she was putting across. "You wanted me to know from the beginning, but you had to carefully control how I got the information."

"Precisely. And now you see why it was necessary, why I had to lead you to it through your own suspicions, don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Well, in the same way, it wouldn't be wise for me to simply go ahead and start belching out all the answers that you'd like to have when you'd like to have them. I hadn't planned on telling you any of this right now, but things have changed because I didn't plan on you actually following me from the goddamned restaurant either, so I'm sort of forced to tell you what I have to at this point because of it. As for the rest, I'm asking you to go on trusting me and to have some patience with me."

After a moment's pause, I nodded my agreement with this now obvious wisdom, but I didn't like it.

"I know," she said as though reading my mind, lifting her hand to rest gently, affectionately along the edge of my jaw, "It's hard to let all your questions go without answers. But I promise you that I will answer them at a more appropriate time."

"Can you please tell me just one thing now?" I asked. "It's important. Important to me that I know."

After a pause, she allowed her hand to fall from my face, resting at the top of my thigh, fingers excitingly close to my crotch as her soft expression silently allowed me to at least ask.

"My real mother," I began. "You called her a wack job. What did you mean? Was that why she couldn't keep me, why she had to put me up for adoption?"

Another pause went by, during which time I could tell she was very carefully constructing her reply before speaking.

"Yes. Your real mother was as crazy as mine was, just in different ways," she replied, thoughtfully adding, "And both of them named Marie. Kind of a coincidence, huh?"

"Did you know her?"

"Yes, and no. Let's just say that I knew her from reputation. She wasn't anyone I wanted to get that close to but, for those who had, to know her was to loathe her."

"She really was crazy?"

"Sweetie pie... you were born in a psychiatric hospital. Your father was probably some orderly, or maybe a visitor to some other patient for all I know. I have no idea and, as far as I know, nobody else does either. No offense, but it's not important anyway."

Somewhat shocked at this revelation, I managed, "How do you know this?"

"Because we're related."

" ... What? How?"

"Sweetie pie, I've told you too much as it is and I'm not telling you any more. You'll know everything soon enough. Just not too soon, and for reasons that I think I've already made clear. Reality can often be a lot stranger than what people think, and it's generally best that they're acclimatized in increments."

Once again, I could only nod, as frustrating as it was. I was still trying to process her claim that we were related and all of the implications that came with it as she went on.

"As for the haunt in the basement... it's not exactly a haunt," she explained. "I know it likes dark, damp holes in the ground, like vermin does. I don't know why. It's linked with our family, speaking to some of us, but not others. It spoke to your mother, and she spoke back. In time, it came out of her basement and stayed with her."

"And you don't know what it is?"

"No. I only know that it's dangerous. Don't ever talk to it again. You don't need it. You only need me."

"It said that you love me."

"It told you that in the hopes that it could ride in on my coattails, on a powerful truth that you already know and value."

"So, you do know about it?" I carefully pressed.

"I've sensed at times, and I know it senses me, but we don't, or can't interact. Because of whatever it is, three people who I very, very much loved were destroyed, and I don't want that to happen to you. Do you understand?"

Now she was looking directly at me, her demeanor quite serious, and I replied, "But it said that-"

"I don't care what it said, sweetie pie. I'm saying ignore it. Am I clear on this?"

I nodded yet again.

"Hm?"

"Yes, Donna, you're clear."

"Good."

" ... So, what are we gonna do?" I asked. "How will I ever live here? Just working here will be bad enough."

"As long as I'm at the Mission, working here will be no problem for you. As far as living here goes, that's over. You're moving in with me."

"Donna, I can't- I can't do that. I'm supposed to be here, living here. It's part of my posting."

"You are more important than your posting. I'd sacrifice the very lives of everybody in North Central for your wellbeing. I'd do it in an instant, and then I'd do it again if I could."

"I believe that," I said, smiling at this horrible thing that I loved, "but I don't have the choice here. Major Hurdle-"

"Major Hurdle be damned!" she suddenly snapped. "Look, Tara, I've left your life alone in as many ways as I could. Yes, there were times when I gave in to certain temptations, but I've made it a point to see you making your own decisions in the life you knew before you met me without my interference in it. But, when it comes to your wellbeing, that's no longer Hurdle's call. It's mine, and I already made that clear to him on Friday. You're not living here any longer, and that's final, so today is all about moving your things out."

So, that was that. You may wonder how I could just go along with her but, at the time, I was in the grip of the sudden knowledge that I'd been adopted, that Donna really was my family and, no matter what she was, I knew she cared about me as she said she did. I knew she genuinely loved me, and I really needed that. Also, whatever it was that was lurking in the Mission's basement was a powerful incentive to allow myself to be swept along with my mysterious assistant/friend/lover/relative.

Some minutes later, inside the Mission, Donna noted with a raised brow, "Well, I guess you were paying attention after all."

"What?"

"The nail gun."

"Oh."

We were both standing in the office doorway, regarding my work before I'd fled the Mission the day before.

"You were acting like a ditz when I was showing you how to use it, but this is good," she judged. "You're not going to, um... get that open before you realize you're not supposed to. I love a girl who can solve her own problems."

"It's not good," I refuted, looking warily at the old wooden door under the stairs. "It's nowhere near good enough for me. I can't even use this room as an office now. I don't even like being in this house."

"I told you, it's really got nothing to do with this house," she said, ambling into the room, still visually appraising the door. "Until we deal with it, it will follow you wherever you go, waiting for a deep, dark hole to speak from."

"We can deal with it?"

"Yes, and we will when the time is right. Ideally, we would have dealt with this a couple years ago, but..."

"But, what?"

"Timing."

"Of course," I said, trying not to drone the words.

"Don't be petulant," she lightly admonished. "Let's get upstairs and grab your clothes and things."

Beyond my clothes, there weren't very many things and only one trip was needed to move it all to Donna's house. She'd taken over their master bedroom and, it being a rather large room with an ensuite bathroom and lots of closet space, she simply threw Roman's clothes out into the hallway for him to move somewhere else in order to make room for mine.

"Don't feel bad for them," my beloved imposter said from behind.

I turned to see her in the master bedroom's doorway, watching me watch Roman scoop up his clothes with a desperate grin for me.

"These two are among the lowest dregs of society," she said. "Such filth shouldn't even be allowed to live, but here they are, living in a place like this yet."

"Filth?" I asked.

"Yes, filth. To date, they've aborted three of their own babies, just killed them off without a thought because she didn't want to ruin her body, and neither of them wanted their lives disrupted by what they called 'mistakes'. Three of them, Tara. You'd think they'd at least use contraceptives of some sort after the first time, but no. Condoms are no fun, the pill is a bother and they can afford the procedure. Fucking murderers. Yet, they cried when I had them nuke that stupid little dog. Can you believe that? A dog! Like I said, fucking filth. Scum of the earth. Don't ever feel one bit bad for these two, Tara. Mimsy moo has more character in one of her little claws than both these two put together."

So, I was coming to know my 'assistant' rather better and, in some cases, I was beginning to wish I wasn't. As twisted as it was, she did seem to have a sort of moral base, but her personal capabilities and lack of moral judgement were frightening. Especially if one happened to be a dog. However, once again, what did this say of me, the one who loved her?

Apart from that, it seemed that I was right about her 'hands off' approach where my own life was concerned, and I could at least rest easy knowing that all my mistakes were indeed my own. She wasn't out to ruin me, or exactly sabotage the things in life that I'd wanted, rather she was trying to educate me on her own world views, some of which seemed antiquated and intolerant by today's standards.

Yet, she was often very good at seeing some certain things from both sides, sometimes making it hard to know on which side of an issue she stood. I often got the impression that she was more an observer than a participant, not really Human at all, but only in disguise as one, some insectile alien amongst the unsuspecting herd of real top mammals, that she might easier learn about us and the messed up world we'd created for ourselves to suffer in. That said, she was often very humanlike and warm, such as with one instance on that very day. We were on our way back to the Mission and something had occurred to me as we were sitting at a red light.

"So, um... I guess this means we'll be carpooling now?"

She looked at me with a blank expression of surprise, as though my words had distracted her from thoughts of something else. Her eyes went down my body, and her face lit up with the warmest affection that I'd ever seen anyone's features convey. Then we were kissing, right on the lips, and she was just such a lovely creature of caring and lust for me. The light turned green and, as we took off, I caught a glimpse of astonishment from the car beside us. Adjusting my bowler, I reminded myself with a flushed start I was in uniform and that it probably wasn't wise to be seen kissing women in public like that.

But then, I supposed that the Major wouldn't have much to say about it.

"Donna?"

"Yes?"

"I've been curious... what ever happened with you and the Major on Friday?"

"Well, sweetie pie... that was very complicated. You see, it's as I said when I told you that I don't want to run your life, but I do need to make sure you're okay and, at the same time, I'm obviously not willing to let this fuck treat me like his employee. Like I have some reason to be afraid of him. So, I had to be very specific with him. Kind of like hypnotizing him, in a sense. He'll never give me any problems, and he'll never order you to do anything that might put you into danger. He's just not aware that it was me who's planted those directives in his mind. He thinks that these are his ideas and decisions, which is the best way to influence anybody's thinking."

"Oh. Okay."

As if reading my mind, she then said, "You still have to deal with him. Yes, I could have fixed your problems with him, but I'd rather you did that for yourself. Besides, I kind of like the thought of you having to strip down for him and... who knows what other kinds of sexy and fun situations he'll get you into?"

"Donna, he's blackmailing me!"

"I know, I love it."

"Yeah, but I seriously need to stop that!"

She only laughed, but then asked with the curious leer of a scandal sheet reporter, "Did you get fucked last night?"

"No. I wanted to, but I just went back to my room and masturbated. But it's alright because I..."

"Yes?"

"Well, Sumitra and I had a little fun with her husband," I admitted with a shameful little grin, wishing I was more liquored up for such memories.

"Ah, Debesh," she said with a sudden, happy smile that seemed a little out of place, especially on the back of her 'eureka' tone. "How interesting."

"You have no idea, I said, "but more on that later. After that, me and Sumitra went across the street and had some fun with the Bennetts, so..."

"What?" she asked, becoming excited. "What fun? What happened? I want all the messy, slutty details!"

I paused before answering but, when I did, it wasn't the response she'd wanted.

"You've done something to them, haven't you? Like you did with Hurdle."

"Well, yes. All of them. Mind you, most males don't require the level of adjustment that women do, but yeah."

"I realize I'm nobody to talk at this point, but... why? Donna, those poor people will never be the same now."

"Why? Because they're so much more fun this way."

"But-"

"Don't you find? I mean, wasn't it fun watching Margie fuck her daughter with that dildo and then suck it clean?"

"Well, yes, I... I actually loved that. I also loved watching her Daughter's expression when she sucked on it after I fucked myself with it, but that's not the point," I said as I felt my hormones stirring again.

"Well, to me it is," she refuted.

"But... okay, you told me some things about Donna and Roman, telling me I shouldn't feel sorry for them, that they deserved it, which means that you believe that some people wouldn't. So I ask, hypocrite that I am, what did they do to deserve being used as sex toys?"

"Nothing," Donna said with a shrug. "I actually like Margie quite a lot. That woman has a pretty filthy mind, and I admire that in a person. It's so honest with oneself. I didn't have to actually plant any specific seeds in her, only water the ones that were already there. Haley's much the same, but not as... well, to use the local expression, rank."

Having heard that particular expression, I couldn't help a snicker in light of how it really did apply to Margie, asking, "But, what about long term? Where will they be for all this in ten years? Twenty years?"

"I don't know."

"But, don't you see how harmful this could be for them as individuals and as a family? This is not them. Well, maybe it's Margie, but... you know what I mean."

"Tabarnac! What if Haley got a brain tumor?" Donna asked in turn while pulling up to the curb on Rae Street, directly behind my car.

"What?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"This stuff happens. Happens all the time. What if Haley got a brain tumor? What if Darren got shot and killed here in the street? What if Joel gets killed in a fatal car accident on his way home from work this week? Compared to these scenarios of possibilities, my adjustments aren't really much of a concern, especially since all four of them are very much enjoying it."

"Uh, Donna..."

"Hm?"

"Sumitra and I... It wasn't just a little fun. We had an orgy with the Bennetts on Saturday. All the Bennetts."

"Wh- well, shit! Why would you initiate something like that without me there?! Tara!"

"Donna, that's- They had sex with each other! The Bennetts, I mean! They all had incestuous sex! I watched Joel licking his daughter's pussy and Margie sucking Darren's cock!"

"And I missed it! Jesus, sweetie pie, you could have at least waited for a fucking weekday before-!"

"Donna! Yes, it was hot, but my point is that we've fucked that family up! I can't even say it was just you! You may have done whatever it is you did to them, but I was the one who went over there on Saturday and somehow took advantage of it!"