The Devils Bargain Ch 01

This is another twist on the 'Mind Control', somewhat like my story 'Just a Little Magic'. There is magic in this one (of a quite different sort). I have to thank my editor, Lastman416, for his many helpful comments and contributions (and his uncanny ability to catch errors that I missed).

*****

I always thought that 'The Queen's Arms' was a good name for a pub. I could imagine guys picking up their phones to call their wife or girlfriend, and saying: 'Yeah, I'm in the Queen's Arms - I'll be home later.'

It was just around the corner from my house, a five minute walk, at most. Across the street was the fitness centre, and next to that, the pharmacy and my dentist's office. We'd lived in the neighbourhood for more than twelve years, but I could count on two fingers the number of times I'd been to the pub.

This would be my third visit. The occasion? There wasn't one, really. Three months after my 42nd birthday. Fourteen months since my wife's death. I wasn't celebrating anything, that's for sure. Why was I even here? To get a pint of Guinness that didn't come out of a can? Call it an impulse. I hadn't followed too many of those, over the years.

It was dark, inside. There was dark wood everywhere, with dartboards in the corner. The low lighting made it feel old and comfortable. Maybe it also made the food look more appetizing. I wasn't here to eat, though. I chose a small table in the corner.

There were only five or six other patrons. The bartender was a semi-blonde (it was hard to tell if the second colour was green or blue). She saw me, smiled, and moved to the end of the bar. She called out from there.

- "What'll ya have?"

- "A pint of Guinness, please."

- "On the way." She moved back to the taps, under a small pot light. Green hair, then; not blue. She poured me a pint, and like a true professional, let it sit on the counter until it settled. To save her a trip to my table, I stood up and went to collect it.

"Cheers, luv." she said. "Will ya be wantin' a menu?"

- "No, this is fine, thank you." I retreated to my little table.

My neighbour George had told me that Guinness was an acquired taste. He was right; I hadn't acquired it yet. But that just meant that I could sip it for a while, as I considered the state of the union.

I had just begun to inventory the sad state of affairs that was my life when someone new came into the pub. It was hard not to notice that she was an attractive female, far too well dressed and well made-up for a place like this - especially when she stopped, surveyed the room, and then headed directly for my table.

- "Do you mind if I sit here?" she asked, in a slightly husky voice.

I had already started to stand up.

- "I'm sorry. Is this your regular table?" I reached for my pint and coaster.

- "No, no." she said. "I'm asking if I can join you. You

are

Daniel Pilgrim, aren't you?"

I had no idea how this woman knew who I was, or what she wanted with me. Was she another real estate agent? Six or seven of them had called me after Connie's death, to ask if I wanted to sell our house. I'd thought only lawyers chased ambulances. But apparently burglars and real estate agents read the obituaries.

- "I'm sorry - have we met?"

- "My name is Tansa." she said, as she extended a hand. It would have been rude to ignore it, so I shook her hand. "May I join you, Mr. Pilgrim? I won't take too much of your time."

- "If you like. But I'm not planning on selling my house, or ... making any major purchases."

She smiled, without showing any teeth, but revealing far too many dimples.

- "I'm not trying to sell you anything." she said. "Here's my card."

I glanced at the little rectangle of embossed cardboard she passed me.

TANSA

Sophisticated Optional Solutions

There was also a phone number with the local area code. I still didn't get it.

- "Are you sure that I'm the person you're looking for?" I asked. What did she want with me?

- "You're exactly the person I came to see, Mr Pilgrim. May I call you Daniel?"

- "I don't understand. How do you know my name? Who are you?"

- "Let's sit down, Daniel." she said, in a much lower, deeper voice. The huskiness - or the gravel, if you prefer - was still there. My knees suddenly felt a bit weak. I sat down.

Tansa sat down, just as the bartender arrived.

- "What'll ya have, luv?"

- "Gin and tonic, please."

That brief exchange gave me a few seconds to examine this mysterious woman. She had light brown hair, with blonde streaks or highlights. Her hair cut was perfect, as if she'd just come straight from the salon.

Her eyes were grey-blue, and her eyebrows were trimmed and plucked (but still somewhat thick and intimidating). Her features were perfect -

too

perfect. Even her dimples were immaculate.

- "I don't mean to alarm you, Daniel. In fact, I'm here to help you. I provide solutions."

She had me on my heels. "I'm sorry - solutions to what?"

- "To the serious shortage of sex in your life."

***

I didn't reply. I couldn't - I was stunned.

Who was she?

The waitress brought her drink, and Tansa handed her a credit card. She instructed the girl to put my pint on her tab. The waitress went away happy.

- "I ..."

- "You're wondering who I am, how I know who you are, and so on." she said.

- "Yes." I wanted to say 'Duh!' - but it was an expression I'd never used (plus I didn't think she'd appreciate it).

- "I think you know who I am." she said. "Although you don't believe in me."

What? I was beginning to recover my equilibrium. I was also scanning the dimly-lit pub for hidden cameras, or patrons who were surreptitiously recording us on their phones. This had to be a joke, or some sort of reality show that fed on embarrassment and nervous laughter.

- "You're not the Easter Bunny." I said. Her name

was

an anagram of Santa, though.

To my surprise, Tansa only smiled. No teeth, but multiple dimples. The smile, I noticed, didn't come close to reaching her eyes.

- "

Try again

."

She'd done it; she'd worn out my patience. I'd had enough. "You came looking for me, Ms. Tansa. You know who I am, apparently, but I don't know you from Adam. Why don't you just tell me who you are, and what you want?"

- "It's not about what

I

want, Daniel. It's that I can get you what

you

want."

- "I'm sorry. I don't understand what you're saying." I took a long draw of my beer.

Tansa sipped at her gin and tonic.

- "I can get you any woman you want."

The light bulb finally came on for me. "Oh. You run an escort service."

- "No.

Any

woman, Daniel. I can make your wishes come true."

- "That's ridiculous."

- "No, it's not. I mean, there

are

limits. She would have to be at least 18 years old. You would also have to be in the same place. If you want a woman from Australia or Tahiti, you'd have to go there to meet her in person. We would also have to discuss

how many

you want - that would obviously affect what I ask you in return."

- "I beg your pardon?"

- "Obviously, we would come to some sort of arrangement. Depending on what you want, I would ask for a favour in return."

- "A favour?" I said. This sounded fishy. "Like what? My soul?"

Tansa smiled. "You don't believe in souls, Daniel. But what people call their souls is actually inseparable from who and what you are. It's what makes you

you

. I

couldn't

take that away from you, even if I wanted to - which I don't."

- "Then what is this favour?"

- "I'm asking for a favour to be determined later. Just like a sports trade: you get my star player, or a couple of draft picks, and I get 'a player to be determined later'. And in this case, 'later' could be at any time of your choosing."

- "That doesn't sound fair." I said. "What's the catch? Why can't you tell me what this favour would be?"

- "I can't just spell it out in advance, can I? What if you decide to pay up just before you die? That could be forty or fifty years from now - how am I supposed to know what I'll need then?

- "You can't tell in advance?"

- "Hardly. Look: I've already given

you

the option. You can choose to fulfill your side of the agreement whenever you want."

I was curious, now. I wanted to know what she was after. Not for one moment did I believe that she could deliver on her promise; it was a trick of some kind. But what was she trying to get from me?

- "What if I choose right now? What if I want to do this favour of yours

before

I collect on my side of the deal?"

- "You can do that." said Tansa. She didn't seem at all dismayed.

- "So then you can tell me what the favour would be."

She shook her head. "No. It doesn't work that way. We haven't even worked out what you're asking for, but already you want to know the price?"

Why was I even having this conversation? "But I'm not asking - you're offering. And I don't want to be tricked into giving away my soul, or my life."

- "Already told you. I can't take your soul, or your life. Don't want them, either - how can you do me a favour if you're dead?"

- "That's what

I'm

wondering."

- "Then we put it in writing. My right to ask you a favour expires when you do. But you can't simply defer repayment until you die. In that case, I can call it in before you go. Is that better?"

- "How are you going to know when I'm about to die?" I asked. This was the weirdest conversation I'd ever had. For some reason, though, I didn't get up and walk away.

- "The same way I knew your name, that you'd be here tonight, and that you haven't had sex for almost six years."

That was ... much too close to home.

- "

Who are you?

"

Tansa smiled again. "Well, I'm not the Easter Bunny - we've already established that. How many more guesses do you want?"

I didn't know what to say. This was far too strange.

"Look," she said, "how about if we establish that I can, in fact, deliver what I suggested. Why don't you pick out the most attractive woman here - or the one that appeals to you most - and I'll send her home with you so that you can have sex with her for the rest of the night. How does that sound?"

I was about to scoff at that; the Queen's Arms wasn't noted for the beauty of its female patrons. But then I happened to look up ... and realized that while I'd been talking to Tansa, several women had come into the pub. And not just any women - they were stunning.

Just two tables away was a slender, athletic brunette. She was at least an 8, on a scale of 10. Sitting opposite her, but turned to the side so that I could see her profile, was a lovely redhead. At the end of the bar, perched on a stool, was a dark-haired, voluptuous temptress. There was a fourth woman, seated alone near the other end of the bar. I saw her, looked at the other three one more time, and then returned to her.

She was blonde - normally not my type - but her hair was so light that it was almost white. What struck me about her, though (besides her beautiful face) was her expression. There was a hint of vulnerability about her.

By contrast, the brunette was sizing me up like a prime cut of meat, the redhead was casting flirty glances, and the dark voluptuous one was straightening her back so as to stretch the front of her sweater.

My attention returned to Tansa.

- "Are they hookers?" I asked.

- "Absolutely not." She seemed mildly offended.

- "But you can guarantee that the one I choose will have sex with me."

- "Yes."

- "Why?" I didn't consider myself ugly, and I was still in reasonable shape. But I didn't kid myself that women would swoon when they saw me for the first time. Like my pint of Guinness, I was more of an acquired taste.

- "Why? Well, let's just say that ... they owe me a favour."

- "Oh?"

- "Interested?" asked Tansa.

I shouldn't have been. I should have stood up, and walked out. But my curiosity was piqued. There was also the fact that she'd been right, earlier: I hadn't had sex in years. Both the spirit and the flesh wanted to see how this might play out. I was still wary, though.

- "What's the catch?"

- "You take home the woman of your choice. Tomorrow night, you come back here at the same time, prepared to bargain with me in good faith. We'll work out an arrangement that's satisfactory for both of us."

You might think that I'd lost my mind. But ... six years. The lovely blonde was too much temptation. I wasn't 100% ready to commit myself, but I found it hard to take my eyes off of her.

"Her name is Angel." said Tansa. "Shall I call her over?"

I didn't protest. Tansa did just that. Angel stood up, and walked over to join us. I rose from my seat, and quickly pulled another chair from an unoccupied table.

"Angel, this is Daniel Pilgrim." said Tansa.

- "How do you do?" said the blonde. Her voice was low. This close, though, I realized that I hadn't been fooled by the pub's low lighting. This woman was a 9 -

way

out of my league. And despite her amazing looks, I sensed a certain humility and possibly even empathy in her. The combination was well-nigh irresistible.

- "I believe that Mr. Pilgrim has a question for you." said Tansa.

I decided to cut to the chase, and be extremely blunt. "Tansa seems to think that you would be willing to go home with me tonight."

- "That's right." said Angel. "We can have sex as often as you like."

I was completely out my element. Forget comfort zones - I was in the wrong comfort continent.

- "There's no obligation, Daniel." said Tansa. "Take her home, and come back here tomorrow night. We'll talk. If you still don't want to accept my offer, then we'll call it even."

I had to shake my head, trying to clear it.

- "You mean ... go home with Angel - and I don't owe you anything?"

- "That's exactly what I mean." said Tansa.

I stood up, and held out my hand to Angel.

- "Shall we?"

- "Of course." Angel stood, and placed her warm hand in mine.

***

You may be wondering why I was even considering this. Didn't I recognize that Tansa was the devil, and that she was after my soul - even though she said she wasn't? Why was I willing to jeopardize my immortal soul for a few moments of carnal pleasures?

Forgive me for launching into 'the copious back-story', as Shamus Young would put it - but the past is very relevant in this case, as you'll see.

I grew up in a small town in southern Ontario. My parents were religious lunatics. They were typical hypocritical Christians who believed in a select few Commandments - and then only their own interpretations of said Commandments.

No - I'm not mocking your faith, or trying to convert you to atheism. I

am

mocking those who believe that 'Thou Shalt Not Kill' means that birth control is a sin and that abortion is murder, and yet support capital punishment and the bombing of countries around the world (especially if the targets are non-Christian). 'Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness' apparently means that lying is bad, unless you do it to protect the President - and cheating on your taxes is okay.

My parents believed that the first (and most important) Commandment was 'Honour Thy Father and Mother'. Obedience. I was taught not to question my parent's authority, and then severely punished when I did.

We went to Church every Sunday. After services, I was given the family car so that I could drive to Aunt Mary's house, and take her to church. My parents disapproved of her religious affiliation, but decided that she should not be prevented from worshipping as she chose. That freedom of choice did not extend to me.

I confessed to my older sister that I didn't think that I should be forced to attend services once - much less twice. She ratted me out to our parents, and I was punished again.

I was not allowed to use the family car for 'private' reasons'. I could drive Aunt Mary to church, or take my sister or my mother somewhere they wanted to go. For my own purposes, I was allowed a bicycle.

In high school, I made the football team. It was fun for a few weeks. Then I made the mistake of telling my parents 'Coach says ...', and I was immediately pulled from the team (see the Commandments, #4 (#1 in our house)).

Given that I seemed to be wavering in my faith, I was sent for additional religious instruction, and 'encouraged' to read the Bible from cover to cover. That, it turned out, was a mistake on my parents' part. I discovered that the Old Testament was a record of mass murder and ethnic cleansing, polygamy and adultery. I also figured out that my parents had little in common with Jesus.

Again - I'm not trying to convert you. But as I grew up, it was difficult not to see that my parents' 'morality' was based on the prevention of sex. They wanted my sister to 'go to her marriage bed as God intended'. As for me, I was to be 'protected' from experiencing any form of sexual release.

They did this by limiting and then monitoring the little free time I had. No after school activities were allowed. I had a part-time job, to teach me responsibility, but my wages went to the family budget. I asked for use of the car, to get to and from work more quickly; request denied.

There was no question of my going away to university, even though I'd won an academic scholarship that would cover my first year's tuition. My parents refused to pay for anything, unless I went to the nearest university - over an hour's commute, one way.

You might wonder why I didn't simply run away from home the moment I turned 16 (under that age, my parents could have had the police drag me home). The answer is that I knew how limited my prospects were. No money, nowhere to live, ineligible for financial aid because of my parents' income ... a high school diploma is not the greatest of door-openers.

I decided to bide my time. If I could get a degree, and possibly maintain my scholarship, I might have more options, more chance of finding a job which would allow me to move away and support myself.

I'm not telling you all of this to ask for your sympathy, but rather to explain why I didn't believe in God - not my parents' God, at any rate - and why I was still a virgin at 22.

That was a good part of the reason why I left the Queen's Arms with Angel.

We walked out of the pub together. As we cleared the doorway, and stepped out into the cool night air, I turned to her.

- "You don't have to do this, Angel. You can go home. I'll tell Tansa that you ... did your part."

Angel looked confused. Then she smiled, showing her perfect teeth.

- "Are you trying to protect me? But you don't understand, Daniel. I don't mind at all. You seem very nice. I'm sure that we'll both enjoy it."

- "But ... is she

making

you do this?"

- "No. I agreed to it."

I suddenly remembered a joke I'd heard in high school. John and Bill are both scammers and cheaters. They both die, and go straight to hell, where the demons torment John with pitchforks. To make matters worse, he looks over to see Bill having sex with a beautiful woman (substitute your favourite celebrity hottie here).

John is irate. 'What the hell? I get fire and brimstone, and Bill gets to fuck

her

? How is that hell for him?' The demon laughs. 'This isn't his punishment. It's hers'.

- "You're not being punished?" I asked her.

- "What? No. I got my heart's desire, and now I'm repaying my debt to Tansa. Wait - do you think that sleeping with you will be a hardship?"

- "I don't know what to think anymore."

Angel smiled. "I think that we should stop by the pharmacy before it closes. I would recommend condoms, and perhaps some lubricant. Viagra or Cialis, too, if you think it might help. After all, I'll be with you all night, if you want."

I let her shepherd me across the street. I bought a box of condoms, and some lubricant. I passed on the pills, though.