Jason could not muster the will to throw off Heather's influence in time to stop Richie from leaving the room. When Richie exited through the back door, he harnessed his growing anger with the Sovert girls to emerge from the thick pall of induced desire. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he turned to Heather. "That was not nice."

Heather stared at him. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"What you just did to Richie. You practically pretended he wasn't even there!"

"Yeah, you bubblehead," Melinda said. "You just acted like he--"

"And you weren't much better, either, Melinda," said Jason.

Melinda looked stricken. "Me?? What the hell did I do?!"

"What you said to him before he left, like he didn't have a right to be there. You've both been treating him like he's a criminal. Maybe he was willing ... well ... you know, to help Heather."

Heather looked aghast. "Jason, are you nuts?! You want me to fuck Richie after what he did to me and Melinda in the House?"

"And the fact that he saved you from Melissa means nothing?"

Heather was shocked into silence. Melinda glanced between her and Jason. "All right, I'm sorry," Melinda said. "I shouldn't have said that to him. But I can see where Heather is coming from. Richie creeps me out when I try to think of him like that."

"Is he really that bad?" Diane asked as she stepped behind Heather.

Heather turned to her. "Well, in the House, he was, but ... I mean, I guess that was awhile ago, but ... shit, I don't know what to think anymore. This thing with my sex drive is fucking with my head to much!"

Her eyes glistened. Diane drew her into an embrace.

Jason sighed. "Look, I didn't mean to get you upset. And I really don't have any right to tell you who you should or shouldn't have a sexual partner."

"But at least if she did it with Richie, she wouldn't want to do it with you so much," Melinda muttered.

"I just don't want Richie to feel like he's an outcast, that's all."

"I'm really trying, Jason! I am! I just can't flip my feelings on and off like that."

Heather broke off the embrace with Diane and turned towards the others. "Jason, I know what he did for me, and for the Harbingers. God, you can't imagine how grateful I am for that, and I've told him that. But it's like Melinda said, I can't just invent feelings for him."

Jason nodded. "I know. Just try to be a little mindful of him, okay? I'm not saying you have to have sex with him, just remember that he has feelings, too, and it's obvious something is still upsetting him."

"His mother," Diane suggested.

"Yeah, that's part of it," Jason said in a subdued voice.

Heather sighed. "Richie wanted to do it with me, didn't he?"

Melinda rolled her eyes. "What guy doesn't want to boink you?"

Heather managed a tiny smile. "I'll take that as a compliment, thank you."

"Only because guys go for big-boobed bubbleheads," Melinda retorted, but her tone of voice was more teasing than mean.

"Yeah, I think he did," Jason said.

"I don't know if I can," Heather said.

"You shouldn't have to," Diane said.

"But I can't do it with Jason all the time, and Melinda will keep getting on my back every time I do."

"Melinda gets too jealous, if you ask me."

"Oh, stop it!" Melinda said, folding her arms. "Look, I wouldn't be so upset if I could just ... well, you know, do it like that with him."

"Then just do it," Heather declared. "I don't think you can get pregnant from it."

"You don't know that!"

"No, she doesn't," Jason said. "But I got that same sensation, like something was telling me that it was okay."

"But it could be the Darkness doing that, just to get us all knocked up!"

Jason shook his head. "No, it was not the Darkness. Remember, I know what it sounds like. Yeah, this doesn't sound at all scientific, and that doesn't bother anyone more than me. But to be honest, I don't think we're going to be able to restrain ourselves for much longer anyway."

Melinda let out a quavering breath. Her skin felt flushed and her sex tingled. She shot an angry look at Heather.

"What?" Heather said.

"Are you messing with me again?"

"No. Why?"

"Because ..." Melinda's gaze lowered to Jason. "Um, never mind"

Heather smirked. "Getting horny for Jason?"

Melinda's cheeks turned pink. "Maybe."

Jason found his lips curling into a smile of his own volition.

Melinda eyed him. "Oh, yeah, you'd have no problem if Heather made me all hot for you, huh?"

"I don't think you need my help to get wet for him," Heather said.

Melinda shifted her hips. "Only when you won't stop talking about it like that."

"Want me to help with the other end, then?"

"Huh? What do you ... oh ..."

Jason's eyes widened even as they grew dark with lust. "Heather, come on ..."

"Don't fight it this time, okay?" Heather said. "You get to do it with Melinda first this time."

Jason swallowed, his cock ballooning in his jeans. Melinda's eyes flicked down to the growing bulge and whimpered.

Heather smiled and stepped to his side. She took his zipper between two fingertips and drew it down, her movement so meticulous that they could hear each tooth disengage. Jason clenched his hands as the bulge of his cock intruded through the parting halves of the zipper. Resistance failed him, now that the target of his desire was Melinda.

Heather took her hand away. "All yours, baby sis."

Melinda shivered and moaned. Those two words still held sway over her. She forgot whatever objections she had to Heather manipulating Jason and plunged her hand past her boyfriend's open zipper, stroking the now rock-hard bulge under his briefs.

"Jason, I know Heather's doing this to you," Melinda began, her voice husky. "But, I-I sorta need this, too."

Heather smiled. "Do Melinda first, Jason, then you can stick it in me."

She heard panting behind her and turned. Diane's hand fluttered near her own nether regions. "Heather, you're not just going to ... with them ..."

Heather grinned. A deep sigh blew from Diane's lips as her hand slid of its own accord under her jeans. "Getting all hot and horny yourself, huh?" said Heather.

Diane nodded, her cheeks glowing as her fingers found liquid heat in her folds.

"Good. Get nice and wet for me, Diane."

"But I don't want to j-just stand here and p-play with myself ..."

"Even if I like watching it?"

Diane staggered and fell onto the sofa. She pawed at her jeans and panties until they departed from her. She spread her legs and masturbated in earnest.

"Don't worry, Diane," Heather said. "I'll come lick that hot little pussy of yours."

Diane sank her fingers deep into her pussy, a moan rising from her parted lips.

Heather turned to the others. Melinda had started to cast off her clothes in a frenzy of raw sexual desire. She had removed her shirt and bra, but when she tried to undo her jeans, Jason clamped his mouth over one of her nipples.

"Jason, wait! Let me ... ohmigod ... uhhhn! ...."

Melinda dissolved into pants and gasps as she collapsed to the floor, Jason atop her.

Heather let out her own lustful sigh and started to undress.

"Why do you wish me to drop him off here, Miss Kendall?" asked Harry. "We are a full block from Mister Lussander's residence."

"Because I want to walk with him the rest of the way," replied Cassie, the exasperation in her voice increasing with each reply.

"Why would you wish to do that?"

"So I can have a moment alone with him without you or his parents listening in."

Harry frowned. "Is that wise, Miss Kendall? I was told to chaperon you when--"

"Oh, for goodness sake, Harry, you can follow along in the car and keep us in sight at all times! Honestly, you're really getting overprotective of me."

"I am not sure it would be safe to allow you to walk alone in this neighborhood."

"This is Haven, Harry, not some tenement block on Bedford-Stuyvesant."

"A what block where, Miss Kendall?"

Cassie covered her eyes with her hand. "Harry, pull over and let us out. That's an order."

Harry sighed. "Very well, Miss Kendall."

Through the exchange, Ned would cover his mouth with his hand or pretend to be interested in something out the window. When mirth bubbled from his mouth anyway, he coughed and cleared his throat. He assumed she was in no mood for jokes.

Though he wondered at first if she were in the mood for something else.

She had spent the first five minutes of the trip squirming in her seat and trying to avoid eye contact with him. He had felt he had done something wrong, and tried to broach the subject with a simple squeeze of her hand. Instead, she shivered, blushed, and squeezed her legs together. He swore he heard a wet noise from between her thighs.

Ned scrambled out of the car at the moment of the click of Harry unlocking the doors. Cassie came around the other side and swept his arm into hers, and tugged him away from the car and onto the sidewalk. As they walked, the limo crept along beside them in the street.

"Um, everything okay, babe?" Ned said.

Cassie sighed. A tiny shiver passed through her, and she took a deep breath. "I hope so," she said in a low, breathy voice. "I'm sorry about before, back at the house. I had to get us out of that place fast."

"Heather again?"

Cassie nodded and forced her eyes forward. "Ned, this is getting scary. It's like she can make someone go from nothing to lustful in seconds!"

"Oh, um, is that what just happened to you?"

"Yes, but we can't exactly do anything about it now." Another deep breath, and a husky sigh. "I'm hoping being away from Heather will make it wear off."

"Um, mebbe ya shouldn't be touching me, then ..."

Ned tried to extricate his arm from hers, but she clutched it harder. "No, it's okay, I ... I need to learn how to resist it."

Ned nodded and lapsed into silence. Cassie wished he would keep talking. She needed something to distract her from thoughts of his cock in her pussy that flitted through her head and teased her already aching sex.

She finally had to say something. "Ned, when Halloween gets here, I need you to go to that party with me as my date."

Ned grinned. "Hey, no prob, babe. Mebbe we can think of a theme for us. Ya know, so we have related costumes."

"Whatever, Ned, I don't really care what we go as."

"Hey, babe, something up?" Ned asked. "Ya were upset back at the meetin' 'bout something even before Heather worked her wiles on ya."

"I just don't care for Halloween, that's all. It's hard to explain why."

Ned nodded, though his curiosity was intense. "Ya think mebbe those lines of force do anything different on Halloween?"

"I honestly don't know. It's possible."

Cassie forced herself to wonder about it, anything to crowd out her other urges. She did not know about the lines of force until she joined the Harbingers. Cassie found no comfort in the fact that one ran under her mansion, but as an explanation for the oddness of her dreams every Halloween, she could accept it.

She did not want to contemplate the alternative explanation.

Ned shook his head. "Boy, jus' when ya think ya seen everything in this place."

"I have the bad feeling that we've only scratched the surface, Ned," Cassie said, shivering for a reason other than desire. "I just have this sense that we ... the Harbingers, I mean ... that something is going to happen. The Harbingers are changing. I just don't know how, or what it will do to us."

To that, Ned had no reply.

"Is there anything else you wish to say before I take my leave?" asked Victor from the door.

Terri still floated in a warm haze of arousal, and it took her a few seconds to collect her thoughts. She wished he would not insist on all the pomp and ritual. He could do what she wanted of him without those trappings, and it would satisfy her needy pussy. "There is something I need to warn you about, Victor."

"Warn me?"

"If you're going to take that counselor position, you need to be careful of Laura Bendon, the school principal."

"And why is that?"

Terri frowned. "To be honest, I'm not sure. Just that something's not right with her."

Victor offered Terri a tiny, unamused smile. "Can you be more specific?"

"She did something to her secretary. Marcie used to be this really mousy woman afraid of her own shadow. Now she's a purring sexpot after going around with Laura for awhile. And she fawns over Laura like ..." Terri paused and smirked. "Like a slave."

Victor had some ideas about the school principal, as the Darkness often identified its agents to him. Laura Bendon was not quite a direct slave of the Darkness, but to Nyssa, a supernatural being that the Darkness had employed against the students of Haven High. Before she departed in defeat, Nyssa had commanded Laura to assist the Darkness whenever possible.

But as with most indirect agents, Laura was equally concerned about her own personal gain.

Victor's smile widened. "Thank you for the warning, but I believe I can handle myself."

"It's not about handling yourself, Victor, it's about what interference she can give you if she thinks you're intruding on her own personal little queendom."

Victor doubted that Nyssa had imbued enough power in Laura to be a serious threat to any of Victor's plans, any more than he intended to do the same to Terri. That thought gave him an idea on how to proceed.

"I will deal with it, Terri," said Victor. "You handle your own task, once I bestow my power on you. Now, don't make me think twice about this agreement."

Terri let out a slow breath through her nose and nodded.

Victor's smile turned more pleasant. "I will see you at the ceremonies this evening."

He let himself out.

Victor reached the end of the walk and looked back at Terri's house. He did not like what he was forced to do. Giving Terri power was not in his plans. Once such power was given, he could not retract it. This could get out of hand if Terri did not remain focused. He risked making mistakes, and he would not allow the one he vowed never to repeat.

When he returned to his car, he turned it in the opposite direction of his original itinerary. He felt compelled to make one additional stop.

Melinda no longer cared what or who had precipitated the tryst. She refused to worry about his lack of protection. His lust had rekindled her cravings until they consumed her with the burning need to satisfy them.

For once, she was the submissive one, lying limp on the plush carpet as Jason speared her with his cock. Jason grunted with the effort, her cunt as tight as it was slick. Despite the cool edge to the air, sweat beaded against his skin, his breath a heavy pant as his pleasure mounted with the same aching, slow pace as hers.

Nearby, Diane squirmed on the sofa, Heather's face buried between her legs. Her head lolled to one side against the cushion, her eyes closed. Soft sighs and tiny gasps issued from between parted lips. Her legs were spread wide, and her thigh muscles tensed as she climbed. Heather shivered, her knees sliding apart, her pussy glistening and dripping onto the carpet.

Jason smelled the musky scent of female arousal with every breath, mingled with some of the heady aroma of his own perspiration. Melinda's panting breath, and the slick, wet sounds of his cock sliding in her pussy sent pleasant little tremors through his body. Sensation drowned out doubt and hesitation.

Melinda suddenly gasped and pulled Jason down, letting out a deep, husky sigh into his ear at the press of his warm body against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut and pumped her hips, impaling herself with his cock as deep as he could go.

A dim and hazy thought tumbled in among the feelings of intense lust and desperate desire for satisfaction. I won't get pregnant ... I won't get pregnant ... it will be okay ... it will ...

Melinda squealed as she crested. Trembling hard, she wrapped her legs around Jason, forcing him deep, and clung to him so hard that she could feel the muscles at the base of his cock twitching with his orgasm.

Behind them, Diane cried out. Her body convulsed from the initial force of her climax, until her orgasm settled to a more gentle cadence. She moaned as Heather licked her hard, her hips jerking once. She uttering another short cry as she came a second time.

"Oh ... dear ... God ..." Diane gasped, her orgasm robbing her of breath until Heather eased off. She let out a shaky sigh and went limp.

Melinda's legs slid from Jason's body as her own climax abated to the point where she could think again. Jason was still atop her, breathing into her ear. "And please, Jason," she gasped. "Don't comment ... on how our orgasms ... are always in sync ... okay?"

Jason wanted to protest. They were always in sync, and it was unusual enough to be significant. But Melinda didn't like it when he "nerded out" right after sex. He breathed "okay" into her ear. His arms shook as they fought to push him up.

Melinda closed her legs as soon as Jason was up. She smiled as her pussy gave a few last weak throbs, and she basked in the post-coital afterglow for another minute before she stood and turned to her sister. "Heather, you better be right about us not ..."

She trailed off. Heather draped her body over her lover. Their lips met to a throaty "mmm" sound from each, harmonizing in a brief vibrato as they kissed. Melinda's eyes widened as she spotted the wetness on Heather's face, and her nose wrinkled as Diane's tongue slid past Heather's lips.

"Eww," Melinda said.

Heather broke off the kiss and smirked at her little sister. "I can make you like it, too, you know," she said in a sly voice.

Melinda leapt back. "Don't you dare!"

"Don't worry runt, I have something else I'm after right now."

Jason had only begun to collect his thoughts. Their acceptance of ethereal reassurances of some unfelt birth control still disturbed him. He hated doing something and not knowing why he was doing it.

He had little time to dwell upon it when Heather approached him with renewed lust in her eyes. "Um, Heather, it's a little too soon for me to--"

"Don't worry, I'll fix that soon enough," Heather cooed. She let her hips swing and her breasts bounce as she walked, focusing all her will on him.

Jason felt the waves of lust crashing over him with such force that his mind reeled and his knees grew weak. An ache grew at the base of his cock in its effort to respond.

Melinda folded her arms. "So what am I supposed to do while you're boinking my boyfriend?"

Heather caressed Jason's flagging cock, still slick with her sister's moisture. Jason sank into the touch, delightful even with his lack of erection. Diane's fingers teased her own sex once more, as horny as she was when they started despite her spectacular orgasm.

Oh, God, does Heather really have that much control over me? Diane thought. Or ... did I just give myself that completely to her?

"Diane's pussy is still wet," Heather said without looking. A sultry smile touched her lips, and she dropped to her knees before Jason.

Melinda blanched. "You want me to ...? No way, Heather, I'm not ... I ... what ...??"

Heather licked her lips as she fingered Jason's cock. "You want to know what Diane tastes like, don't you?"

"No, I don't! I don't ... I ... uhnn ... s-stop it ..." Melinda moaned.

"Diane's hot for you, baby sis."

Diane uttered lusty sigh and writhed. Her legs spread, then her fingers spread her labia apart. Her eyes held deep and aching lust, body shivering with the need to be touched.

Melinda swallowed and stared at Diane's open and willing pussy. "S-stop calling me that," she breathed. Her nipples rose to hard points. Her hand straying towards her own sex.

"Heather," Jason croaked. "Maybe you shouldn't do that to ..."

His words dissolved along with his thoughts as Heather took his soft cock into her mouth. A ragged moan followed as he hardened under the skilled sensual play of lips and tongue.

Heather drew back. Her lips parted from the now swelling head of his cock with a smacking sound. Her fingers pumped his cock until it was rigid and Jason was a panting, quaking mass of desire. "You love licking Diane's pussy, baby sis," Heather said, her own voice quavering with lust.

Melinda's feeble attempts to resist her sister's influence like Jason had taught her came too little too late. She had little warning, and Heather's control was more powerful than ever.

She staggered over to Diane and fell to her knees between Diane's quivering legs. Her hands trembled as they rested against the inside of Diane's thighs. Diane shuddered, her head lolling to one side again as she was forced to surrender to the intense, overwhelming sexual need.

Heather ran her tongue slowly up and down the underside of Jason's cock, his moans desperate and wanting. She paused, watching his cock pulse with his hammering heartbeat. She gave the head a light kiss and drew back.

"Now, Jason," she said, spreading herself out on the carpet. "Come fuck me."

A muffled whimper arose when Melinda's face fell upon Diane's pussy about the same time that Jason descended upon Heather and impaled his cock into her hot and willing cunt.

From Mesa View Road, Richie's bicycle rocketed onto Green Avenue. Startled pedestrians scattered and car brakes screeched in his wake.

The chilled air stung his face, and the wind flapped his jacket behind him like a banner. He bore down as the cemetery blurred by on the right. His bike teetered when he refused to slow down around the sharp S-shaped twist before the road came alongside the greenbelt that followed the east edge of town.

His anger had no target. Anger came easy to him, but directing it did not. His frustration mounted, and he pedaled until his legs felt like they were about to cramp.

Richie finally skidded to a stop at the last intersection before his home.

The north wind blew in his face and pushed back his hair. He frowned as he remained rock-still in the middle of the intersection. Red traffic cones marched across the east side. Just beyond them, at the end of the street, the House had once stood where the original four Harbingers were tested and given their mission. First the House had come down a month ago, now the town was preparing to rip up the short stretch of asphalt to the empty lot. By the new year they would have only their memories that it had ever existed.

Richie stared past the cones, as if he could see the House still standing there. Memory burned cruel and bright of Heather and Melinda pawing each other like sex-starved lesbian lovers at Richie's command.

I was only taking my turn, same as everyone else!

But the words -- like so many of his uttered that summer -- rang hollow even in his own thoughts.

You want the power, buddy. You always did and you still do.

Richie spoke for the Darkness, anticipating what it would say to him the next time it had a chance, a chance he figured would come all too soon.

Yeah, and do I really need to go fuck Heather? She'll just mess with my head anyway. I gotta be in control.

Richie let the thought smolder in his head before he pedaled up to his house.

Richie left his bike in the garage and entered the house without bothering to announce himself. His mother was supposed to be gone anyway, since she always had something to do on Sunday afternoon. Yet he was halfway up the stairs when Sandra emerged from the kitchen. "Richie, wait."

He stopped and sighed, clenching his teeth to avoid cursing under his breath. He spun around on the step and leaned on the banister. "Yeah?"

Sandra hesitated. Richie's eyes flicked over her. Skin-tight jeans were painted on her legs. Her breasts rippled under a pullover shirt as she moved towards the stairs. "You were gone when I got home, Richie, I wasn't sure where you were," she said, the admonishment in her voice weak.

"Yeah, so? Not like I expected you to be home anyway," Richie retorted. "Thought you went out with that slab of beef you met at church."

"I cut that short. I wanted to be home for you."

Richie snorted. "Right."

"Richie, come down here, please."

His fingers curled around the banister "I got things to do, Mom. Maybe later, okay?" He started to turn.

"Richie, get down here, now!" Sandra shouted.

Richie paused, shouting warnings to himself in his head. Don't respond! Ignore her!

He trudged down the stairs. Sandra stepped up to him, her lips twitching into a weak smile. "Don't make me shout at you, okay?" Sandra said in a more pleasant voice.

Richie said nothing. His eyes traced her outline, where her Aura flared like a pitch-black nova, the tendrils waving and undulating in perverse excitement. It almost made him recoil.

Almost. Always almost.

"I mean ... there's something a lot nicer I can do for you than shout."

Richie tensed. He willed himself not to respond. Yet when Sandra draped her hand over his crotch, his tension drained, and a slow sigh drifted through his nose. He tried not to look down and failed. Tendrils of Darkness twined around his waist and around his thighs.

He wished its touch were as cold as the grave, or slimy like some B-movie horror flick, or burned like acid. Something tangible that would revolt him, that he could revile without hesitation.

Sandra smiled, her movements more fluid as she succumbed to the Darkness' will. She lowered his zipper in a single, smooth movement and her fingers caressed the bulge in the crotch of his briefs.

Richie closed his eyes. This is my mother, dammit. MY MOTHER!

But doesn't that make it all the more erotic, Richie?

His eyes snapped open. This time he did not have to respond for the Darkness, as it was already in his head.

Sandra groped for his belt. "I want to see it, Richie," she cooed. "I want to see your nice, hard cock."

Richie shuddered. His heel fetched up against the bottom step of the stairs when he tried to back up. Sandra drew close, pressing the swell of her bosom into his chest. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "Come over to the sofa where you'll be more comfortable."

Richie swallowed and did not move. He wondered if this is what it would have felt like if he had managed to stay and let Heather ...

Oh, now, did something interesting happen at this little meeting of yours?

Richie tried to think of something else. His concentration was shattered when he sank into a sofa cushion, unaware that he had moved from the stairs. His mother began removing his sneakers.

He looked away. He didn't want to see the Darkness swirling about his body as if looking for a way in. He shuddered when his jeans rubbed the bulge of his erection against the tight cotton as they slid off. Sandra stroked it hard, until Richie panted and a small stain appeared on his briefs near the swollen head.

Why bother with all this responsibility, Richie? Why not just be a kid?

Richie's hands trembled at his sides as his mother pulled his briefs down his legs. Sandra stared at his naked, pulsing cock like a hungry animal. "It looks absolutely delicious, Richie. But I know where you really want it."

Richie's head twitched as if he had intended to respond with a nonverbal "no." His mother pulled off her top, and Richie stared at those big boobs he always liked, watching them bounce and jiggle.

Normal kids don't have mothers that do this, Richie protested.

Not everyone can be lucky like you, Richie!

Sandra parted his legs and leaned forward. She enveloped his cock inside the bountiful, soft flesh of her bosom.

Richie moaned as his cock surged back and forth between globes of warm, pillowy flesh. Occasionally, the head of his cock popped out from between her breasts, tinged purple from the strength of his erection.

You can get all this at home, Richie, and a lot more.

Richie struggled with his own thoughts. He wanted to tell it that he didn't want more, that he was just fine with things as they were.

You little liar, the Darkness said in amusement. I know you all too well.

Sandra pumped his cock between her breasts until Richie was panting and his pleasure mounting. She eased off, drawing herself up. She dangled her breasts under her, brushing his straining cock in slow, teasing strokes.

Bet you didn't get this at that meeting. Bet Heather wouldn't do this for you.

Richie drew a sharp breath, first at a flickering memory, then at the touch of Sandra's erect nipple against the most sensitive spot on his cock. Another drop oozed from the head in a silent plea for relief.

Did something happen involving Heather? Something important?

Richie felt the Darkness trying to close in around his mind, like a growing pressure from all sides. Something in his mind propped up his will, holding the Darkness at bay with more vigor than he could ever manage.

You WILL break, Richie. Eventually, I'll get in. Why make it so hard on yourself?

Sandra lowered herself. She curled her fingers around the base of his cock and drew her mouth along the underside, a slow glide of wriggling, skilled tongue and soft lips. Richie moaned, his body both resisting and begging for release.

Do you know what's so powerful about sex, Richie?

Every breath was a moan or gasp as his cock parted Sandra's hungry lips. Her tongue twitched back and forth as his cock slid into her mouth.

It opens the mind, it distracts you, it lowers your defenses.

Sandra's head bobbed, lips clamped around his cock, her fingers milking it in the opposite direction in the same rhythm. Richie squirmed, his pleasure climbing to insane heights. His cock strained hard, right at the edge, and he gasped for breath.

And now I can hold you back like this for a bit. What a spectacular orgasm you're about to have!

Coherent thought failed him. He lost control of the images that flew through his head. He saw himself back at the meeting, back when he had been standing there, hoping that Heather would ... that she would try to get what she needed by ...

Yes, something about Heather? Something important? I can almost see it. I can almost ...

"Holy FUCK!" Richie shouted.

His cock throbbed so hard he swore he could hear each clench of his orgasmic muscles. Sandra drew in a sharp breath, as if she had not been expecting him to cum right at that moment. Some of his seed dribbled around her lips and down his shaft before she could recover.

Sandra moaned with need, and her cheeks dimpled as she sucked. Richie groaned and threw his head back when it seemed to renew his climax, a few last drops of cum spurting into Sandra's willing mouth.

Richie went limp on the sofa with a single, long sigh as his mother licked his now flagging cock clean.

I see.

The cold tone of the Darkness cut through his orgasmic euphoria like a knife.

Yes, that is it. That is what is protecting you.

Richie's swallowed. "Wh-what?"

"I said, you were just as tasty as I thought you would be," Sandra said with a faint smile. "I hope that will convince you to stay home with me a little more often."

Richie was confused. He wanted to demand that the Darkness stay in his head and explain what it had just said, yet it had already begun to retreat, no longer cognizant of his tumultuous thoughts. It left him with some final words before it withdrew: It won't last forever, Richie. It's already getting weaker. I'll get past it eventually.

GET PAST WHAT?! Richie screamed in his head, but the Darkness was already gone. Its tendrils now slithered placidly about Sandra. He fought down the urge to yell his question to her.

"Yes, Richie?" Sandra asked.

Richie shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing, Mom, it's ... it's cool."

Sandra smiled and gave his flagging cock one final caress before she stood up. "Good. Now, let me go and get started on dinner, and maybe we can spend a little more time together afterward. Perhaps ... up in my bedroom."

She gathered her shirt and left. Only once she had started out of the room did she falter and let out a half-sigh, half-sob just before disappearing into the kitchen.

Melinda was not sure what irritated her more, Heather forcing her to lick pussy or the fact that she was starting to enjoy it.

The change in her attitude that had come over her in the past few weeks was subtle. A simple lack of resentment had transformed into hidden anticipation. Some of her excitement when Heather wanted her to lick her sister's pussy was her own. She buried this feeling so deep that not even Heather's influence could coax her into admitting it.

Heather was not even controlling Melinda at that moment. All her sister had done was plant the desire. Melinda lapped at Diane's quivering folds by her own volition. Diane squirmed and moaned in absolute delight, Melinda's ministrations slow and deliberate, and not the product of someone who wished to execute her duty as soon as possible.

Melinda's own pussy became more wet and wanting. She hoped Diane was as good at this as Heather often claimed, only to blush at the thought. She could no longer tell what was her own desire and what Heather had imbued in her.

I am going to sooo kill her one of these days! Melinda vowed.

Melinda worried that Heather was changing her bit by bit, day by day, which meant that Heather could be changing Jason as well. All the old resentments towards her older sister frothed in her mind, when Heather got all the attention and all the privileges, leaving what scraps remained for Melinda.

It's not like that anymore, she insisted. It's not! This is different!

Melinda didn't want to hate her older sister again. Estranged from her mother and distanced from her father, she had Heather as her only connection to her family. Melinda would be devastated if she lost Heather, either to the Darkness or Melinda's own faults.

Diane's moans turned to gasps, her thighs clenching as she soared. Melinda sucked hard at Diane's clit, bracing herself as she did with Heather out of habit. Yet with Diane's orgasm came only soft cries and a tightening cunt. No torrent spurted forth from Diane's pussy.

Melinda drew back and looked off to the side. A slow sigh met the sight of Heather and Jason still joined in frenzied sexual union on the carpet.

She had hoped that Diane's orgasm would have coincided with theirs, but Jason still pounded into her sister's willing cunt. Heather panted hard, her breasts rolling and heaving on her chest with Jason's frantic thrusts.

Melinda stood and stared at the point where Jason's cock banged into Heather's pussy, slick and tinged purple. He seemed oblivious to anything else, his buttocks clenched as he dove into Heather at a breakneck pace.

God, it's like watching a porno movie, Melinda lamented. She was startled when she felt hands around her waist. She looked up to see Diane standing beside of her.

"Thank you, that was nice," Diane said with a faint smile. "I know Heather sort of forced you into it."

Melinda just shrugged. "It's fine, Diane, I just ... wait, what are you ...?"

Diane slid her hands down Melinda's sides and around her hips. "I think I should return the favor."

Melinda swallowed and tried to shake her head. "N-no, I'm fine."

"Please, Melinda," Diane said in a husky voice. "I really want to taste your pussy."

Melinda looked up. Diane was blushing. "Heather's making you say that."

"Not quite. She may be just putting the desire in my head. But I really want to do you."

Melinda was about to protest, but Diane drew her into a hug. Melinda moaned and trembled, her feet sliding apart in silent invitation. "Heather's making me do this, she has to be," she murmured. "She's making me get interested in other girls."

Diane didn't say a word. She guided Melinda to the sofa, dropped to her knees, and spread Melinda's legs. Melinda shuddered as she remembered when Diane had done this at Melissa's command. At the time, Diane was pretending to be enslaved, so it was done of her own free will. Melinda, however, had been so addled with lust that she could not refuse.

Now it was more that Melinda did not want to refuse.

Melinda held her breath for a second as Diane's tongue slithered into her depths. She released it as a ragged sigh when feathery strokes teased the tip of her clit. The teasing did not last long, just enough to coax Melinda's clit to swell to full arousal.

Diane pressed the tip of her tongue against Melinda's clit and gave it several firm strokes. She twirled her tongue in a tight circle, then curled it and assaulted the tip of Melinda's clit with tiny, quick flicks.

Melinda gasped. "Unngg ... ohmigod ... uhhn!"

Melinda had expended what little capacity she had for coherent speech and lay limp and helpless. Heather had not been exaggerating in the least when she had boasted of Diane's prowess.

The thought flitted through her head that she should get Diane to give Jason a few lessons.

Diane breathed into Melinda's pussy as her face drew closer, until she was licking the entire shaft of Melinda's clit in firm strokes with flat of her tongue. Melinda's breath became a panting gasp, her pleasure rising to a frantic crescendo. She heard the sounds of Heather and Jason's mutual rising tide of sexual ecstasy.

In that brief moment when Melinda strained short of orgasm, she envied Heather having Diane all to herself whenever she wanted.

Melinda came with a shrill cry. Diane clamped her mouth to Melinda's pussy and sucked hard. Melinda's hips bucked, and Diane had to hold Melinda down to keep her mouth united to Melinda's sex.

"Ohmigod! ... ohhh! ..." Melinda cried. By the time her climax wound down, she was out of breath. She cast a languid gaze towards Heather and Jason. They were panting as well, Jason's thrusts slowing until he finally pulled out with one last exhausted sigh.

Melinda turned back to Diane with a faint smile. "Thanks. That was really nice."

Diane stood and offered her own tiny smile. "Maybe that will make up for some of the times I was mean to you back before the summer."

Melinda's smile broadened. Her eyes held an appreciation she could not get herself to express in words.

"Oh. My. God," Heather murmured.

Melinda rolled her eyes and smirked. "Finally satisfied, O Sex Queen?"

"For now. Jason, I don't know what I'm going to do when we don't have this house anymore."

Jason gathered his clothes. "I don't know either."

"Are you sure we couldn't ask ...?"

"No, Heather, and that's final."

Melinda gave Jason a pleading look.

"We'll figure something out," said Jason in a soft voice. "We always do."

"I just hope I don't get too distracted in class tomorrow," said Heather.

"I'm free for a bit tomorrow afternoon," Diane said as she stepped forward. "So long as we come here right after school."

Heather sat up and shook her head at Diane. "God, your mother is really putting a crimp in our style."

Diane sighed and fell onto the sofa. "Tell me about it."

"Have you told her you're a lesbian yet?"

Diane shook her head.

"Maybe you should. Maybe then she'll ..."

"Heather, even if I did tell her, I can't say that I'm in some torrid affair already with another girl!"

Melinda snorted as she picked up her clothes. "The whole school knows it already. Your Mom's going to find out anyway."

Diane shrank. "That's what I'm afraid of. I wonder if she's already heard about some of things going on, and that's why she's putting more restrictions on me."

"Um, I have to get going," Jason said, already dressed. "I'm already past the time I said I would be home to do those chores."

"I'm sorry, Jason," Heather said. "God, I'm just getting everyone into trouble! I wish I didn't have this damn power!"

"If I find anything in Elizabeth's journal, I'll let you know."

"Jason, wait!" Melinda called out. "I'll ride home with ..."

"I'm sorry, I have to get going now, I'll call you later."

"But ...!"

Jason was out the door and through the kitchen. Melinda frowned as the back door banged shut in his wake.

Victor did not see Gina at the cemetery, but this was expected. The perception he had attempted to implant in her mind was already gone. He could no longer mold her image of this place into the same one of solace that it held for him. Roberta had indeed made quite a bit of work for him.

Yet this was not what concerned him as he approached the gate. He would handle both Gina and Roberta with a steady hand. Roberta had already been reclaimed, and Gina would be his by the time Halloween arrived a week from Monday.

Terri Hollis and Heather Sovert concerned him.

Victor paused at the gate. He noted that the rusting chain had finally given way, and temptation taunted him to give into his own memories of the cemetery and make it whole once more. Or at least appear as it had been that day of his greatest failure.

No. Reality must remain untarnished by sentiment in his own head. He alone held the key to the portal between it and fantasy. He alone controlled the egress from the land of the real and the land of the imagined. To allow himself a false perception was to fall prey to delusion.

Victor stepped around the gate and over the fallen iron fence with a measured, deliberate stride. He stepped past the bench, his footsteps first muted by wet, rotting leaves exposed by the melting snow, and then announced by snapping twigs dropped by the desiccated cottonwood in the center of the graveyard.

He picked his way among broken cobbles and fallen headstones, among rusted bits of wrought iron and the dried husks of long-dead flowers dropped by mourners. He stopped at the end of the narrow, twisting path, at the final gravestone that had been laid in place before the cemetery was forgotten.

A faint sigh escaped his lips. Perhaps the decision in favor of neglect of this place had been wrong. He had wanted few people to notice what he had done. Failure was best kept secret, but not forgotten.

Victor peered at the simple, unadorned grave and its plain headstone. He shook his head.

"It will not happen again."

It was the same ritual each year. The same spoken phrase. His hands clenched at the memory still etched in his mind as if inscribed in diamond, then released.

"And if you fail in this way on my behalf, Terri ..."

His hand clenched once more, and this time would not let go.

" ... this cemetery will have room for one more grave."

His fist trembled for a second, then stilled. After another, it loosened, and his open hand lay steady at his side once more.

Victor left the graveside, his movements easy and relaxed.

"And now," he said in a low voice, a confident smile gracing his lips once more. "Let's take it from the top ..."

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