Gina stepped out into the hallway after delivering the absence note to the teacher. She moved towards Victor's office down a hall now empty save for Vice Principal Seeger. Her head swam in a sea frothed with her mother's directives and her feeble attempts to make sense of her own emotions as she passed under his wary eye unchallenged.

As his footsteps retreated behind her, she wondered why for just a brief moment she had hoped he would stop her.

Victor was waiting for her, standing in the open doorway with a pleasant smile. "Good morning, Gina. It's good to see you again."

Gina smiled and entered without protest or hesitation. He closed the door behind her. A sense of calm settled over her, as if she had walked into the safe confines of her own room. For a few seconds, her eyes and ears were drawn to the clock, its monotonous tick ever more present without the howl of the wind outside the window.

Victor took his seat behind the desk and folded his hands. "I think we should start with a review of what you learned yesterday to make sure we can build on that today."

Gina set her books down. Her pussy was warm, and her panties felt tight and confining against an enticing, tingling ache.

Offer to do this for Victor when you see him tomorrow. Show him that you've learned and taken his words to heart.

Gina's breath quickened. Her heartbeat pulsed in her sex. Her hands rose to her blouse and paused through the space of a breath, breasts swelling and pressing her hard nipples against the fabric. She let out he breath as a tremulous sigh and began to undo the buttons as her cheeks warmed.

Victor leaned back in his seat, his eyes unwavering as he watched Gina shed her clothes. He remained impassive through his silent evaluation: hesitation; lingering reluctance; some embarrassment.

Gina panted when she was down to her underwear. Her nipples tingled as they brushed the insides of her bra cups when they fell away from her body. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of her panties, the crotch already dark and glistening with her arousal.

Her panties peeled away from her wet sex to a deep, husky sigh. The need was urgent now. Her pussy ached for attention. Her lingering hesitation was subsumed into wet need.

She sank into the sofa, thrust her hips forward, and spread her legs. A shiver of pleasure passed through her when Victor's eyes fell on her moist and helpless folds, yet heat still flashed to her cheeks. Her hand slipped between her legs eager and willing, yet she trembled. Her fingers sank into her needy flesh as she uttered a soft moan.

Victor nodded. "Very good, Gina." Pause. "Feel comfortable with your sexuality." Pause. "Feel good about expressing your sexuality."

He repeated the same technique as the last session, timing his words and his pauses with the ticks of the clock. They sank into Gina's mind like lead weights into deep water. Her mind opened like a large flower blossom revealing its hidden nectar.

Victor tested it by nudging her perceptions without words or the clock to assist him. Gina moaned as her fingers stroked to a firm, regular rhythm in the safe and secure confines of her room.

Victor was pleased at this promising sign.

"Now that you have accepted your sexuality, Gina, it is time to take the next step and share it with others."

Gina did not hear his voice, not in so many words. Lost in her own false reality, she sensed it as a sudden urge to recall the erotic imagery that plagued her dreams and left her wanting and wet upon waking. Her panting deepened, her pleasured sighs becoming gasps of lust.

Victor steepled his fingers. Too vague. She needed a focus. He believed he had an idea.

Gina squirmed in a sexual heat that cocooned her body like warm steam. The blanket bunched around her hips and legs as she writhed, her fingers stroking hard but her pleasure slow to rise. Her fingers moved faster, but her need accelerated past her pleasure.

Her mind flitted from one erotic image to the other. None stayed in her mind longer than a few seconds, teasing her desire and fueling her lust, but shifting too fast for her to revel in the fantasy.

Gina whimpered. Her pleasure would rise no further. Her pussy begged for release, but her fingers were inadequate for the task, aching now in fruitless effort. Her cunt tightened around her fingers as if in anticipation of something else filling its soaked depths. If only she had shared her sexuality like her mother told her. Then she would have someone to satisfy her consuming need.

Her memories peeled back like the skin of an orange, going back to that morning, then the day before, then Monday morning, then ...

Brad Weston.

Suddenly his image towered like a monolith in her mind, her fleeting thought of him the other morning now filling her head and crowding out her other fantasies. It leapt from her mind and into the room. Brad stood at the foot of her bed, just as she remembered him from the parking lot the day before, his school books wrapped in a flexible strap and slung over one shoulder.

Gina froze and stared, fingers unmoving but still pressed to her oozing pussy. How did Brad come to be in her room? Was this even possible?

Brad's lips curled into a lascivious smile. He dropped his books to the side and lifted his shirt, exposing his broad chest. Hard muscle rippled along his arms and shoulders as he tossed the shirt to the side, sending shivers through Gina's body.

Gina's legs quivered and spread apart. No place in the world was safer than her room. He could not be in her sanctum if he were not meant to be here.

Brad's jeans came off. A massive bulge swelled and throbbed in the crotch of his briefs. Gina's pussy ran liquid and hot. Her hand fell away, yet a tiny tremor passed through her body as his briefs came down and his cock sprang out like a thick pole.

Brad smiled and grasped his manhood in his hand. Gina shuddered as she watched his fingers stroke the hard shaft, and her pussy throbbed as if the mere sight had triggered an orgasm.

She was supposed to say something. The words that would state her intention to give herself to him were supposed to form in her head and flow like water to her mouth. They would not come to her, and she felt a twinge of failure.

It did not last long. She forgot her moment of weakness when he descended on her. She uttered a short cry, her hands pressed against the hard muscles of his shoulders as if intending to push him back. Yet his cock came to her with intent, and when it sank into her cunt, a wave crashed over her and drowned her in sexual bliss.

Despite her initial euphoria, her hands pushed against tight, unyielding muscle, and her body was slow to fall into his rhythm. He refused to acknowledged her resistance, and eventually her body rocked with his thrusts, the two of them bouncing to the faint creak of the bed springs.

Weak but persistent thoughts flickered through her mind that she had been forced to take a step for which she was not ready. But it was her room, her sanctuary, her home. Anything that happened here had to be right.

Her mother wanted her to do this. Gina had to ...

(obey)

... follow her mother's wise advice.

Gina gasped as her pleasure spiked, her pussy straining as his thick cock stroked her swollen clit. His body fell atop hers, her nipples throbbing as they brushed against his chest. The hands that had tried to push him away now clutched at his arms as if afraid he would leave. Her hips rose to his, his cock pounding into her with each thrust.

Victor finally felt Gina succumb completely to the reality he had shaped for her.

As pleasant as this was, he did not like taking such a direct role. It should never be his cock that touches the pussy of a future slave, not until Halloween night when she is formally taken.

Necessity had forced his hand. He could not afford to wait until he had shaped her perceptions enough that she would consummate her sexual journey on her own. Her body needed to crave the feel of a man's cock inside her, and no amount of reality altering would substitute for the feel of the real thing if she had never experienced it before.

His own pleasure rose at a measured pace as he kept Gina from her final release for a few moments longer. He would cum only when it suited him, and at the strength he desired that would not distract him. He maintained not just this reality for Gina, but also the perception of a counselor and a student having a quiet conversation from opposite sides of the room for anyone that might enter the office unannounced.

Victor felt a tug on his arms. Gina was frantic now, her pussy straining hard at the edge. Her body slapped against his, her thighs tensing as she crept towards release. Despite her enthusiasm now, he still had to break through some resistance. He could sense that Roberta was doing her proper duty. He had developed his presence in Gina's mind into a full avatar that served as the enforcer of his will.

Yet an obstacle remained.

Victor let go. Gina cried out, her pussy throbbing hard and squeezing his cock. Victor uttered a single, soft moan as he allowed himself a sedate climax, his cock pulsing inside her tight tunnel. He let his orgasm linger for a few seconds longer so he could keep himself hard inside her, drawing out her climax to let this new need sink as deep into her psyche as possible.

He withdrew. In Gina's mind, Brad lifted himself from the bed. As Victor dressed, so did Brad. By the time Victor was back behind his desk, Brad had gone and had closed the door to her bedroom behind her, leaving Gina in a post-coital euphoria that Victor helped nudge along.

Finally, he pulled back his altered reality. Gina let out one last contented sigh as she lifted her head and sat up. Her eyes blinked, then opened wide.

"Another excellent session, Gina," Victor said with a smile. "I am quite pleased with your progress."

Gina was nonplussed. She glanced towards the door, then back at Victor.

"Brad was kind enough to assist me in your session today."

"What? But ... you mean he really ...?"

"I felt this was necessary in helping you along the path to sexual maturity. It's a step that many of your peers have taken, so this allowed you to catch up with them."

"I-I just never did something like that before now."

"Of course, I understand. That is what we needed to rectify."

"But ... I thought I was in my room again."

Victor nodded. "The mind will do that, you see. It helped you accept what you needed to do by imagining you in a place you knew was safe."

Gina hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded.

Victor smiled. "You see how well it worked when you first arrived. How willing you were to masturbate in front of me because you felt safe and comfortable."

Gina nodded again with a bit more certainty. When Victor did not speak, she felt compelled to say something by the third clock tick. "It felt a little strange to me at first, when Brad started having sex with me. But it got better. It seemed like it was the right thing to do."

"Excellent, Gina. Most excellent. This is good progress indeed."

Gina managed a small smile, but part of her mind was still reeling from the loss of her virginity. She looked towards the door again. She would never have imagined Brad would ever be interested in her like that.

"I have a suggestion for you."

Gina turned her head and saw Brad sitting behind the desk. She blinked and the illusion vanished in her next breath. Victor once more sat in his chair with his hands folded before him.

"I think it would behoove you to thank Brad properly for his role today," said Victor. "You should offer yourself as his date for the Halloween party this coming Monday."

Gina's lips parted and a small gasp escaped them. A date? Her? She had never done such a thing. And wasn't that supposed to come before the sex?

Victor sensed it again, the hesitation and resistance, but detected no obvious outside influence. He doubted that the Harbingers would be privy to his operation yet, so no protection was forthcoming from them. So what was it?

"It would be very well and proper for you to ask," said Victor, fixing his gaze on her. "And proper for him to agree."

Gina nodded. "Yes, I understand. I've just never dated before."

"One more thing. I would not mention directly his role today. There's no reason to bring it up."

Gina tilted her head. If she were offering herself to repay his kindness, why would she not want to mention it?

"There's no reason to bring it up," Victor repeated to the beat of the clock. "No reason at all."

"No reason at all," repeated Gina. "Yes, of course."

"Very well, then, Gina." Victor glanced at the clock. "It's about time for your next class. We'll pick this up tomorrow."

Gina smiled. "Thank you." She stood and dressed.

Victor decided to test the waters a bit. "Perhaps, now that we've broken the ice with you, we'll talk about expanding your sexual horizons. Other partners. Multiple partners."

Gina paused to absorb what she had just heard. Finally, she nodded again, took her books, and left.

Victor leaned back in his chair and sighed. Two steps forward, one step back. This was not going to do.

"Hey, you got a sec?"

Cassie saw the girl approach out of the corner of her eye but flinched at the sound of the voice anyway. She covered it with a polite smile as she turned her head. The girl's attire had become more daring. The heels of her shoes were at least an inch higher. Her legs were clad in tight black stockings. Her skirt was shorter and painted to her hips.

Such manner of dress had no place in school. That alone, however, should not have been enough to make Cassie's heart pound.

"Um, sure," Cassie said in a strained voice. She kept a wary eye on the girl as she reached into her locker for a book.

"Look, you probably can't really answer this, but wouldya know anything about Matt Wilden?" the girl asked.

Cassie shook her head. "I don't recall the name." She glanced down at the book she had withdrawn and saw it was the wrong one. She clicked her tongue and put it back.

"C'mon, you gotta have at least heard of the guy."

"I'm sorry, I don't. Maybe if you describe what he looks like?"

Cassie was only being polite. She knew the name of everyone at school, as all of them had appeared in her dreams at some point.

The girl put her hands on her hips and sighed. "He's a junior. Brown hair, big blue eyes, always has half the school bimbos following him around. Thinks he's hot stuff cuz he's the big football star. I mean, c'mon, everyone knows him even if you don't like him."

Cassie was puzzled. She had no idea that Haven High even had a football team. "I wish I could help you, but I don't know him. I'm sorry."

The girl rolled her eyes. She stamped her foot and looked around. "I was hoping I could talk to someone that just didn't fawn over him or hate his guts. I need to know what this guy's really like."

"Is there s-something wrong?" Cassie's voice faltered when an icy breeze swirled around her. Her next breath overwhelmed her with the musty, stale smell of age.

The girl smirked. "You know, maybe not. I could be worried over nothing. I thought it was kinda weird that Jerry wanted him along this afternoon, but--"

"Jerry? Oh, was he the boy you mentioned yesterday?"

"Yeah, he's my boyfriend." The girl giggled. "I really shouldn't be telling so many people, but we've started fucking big time. Wow, what I was missing all this time!"

Cassie forced a smile, her cheeks growing pink. She ignored the tingling her own sex.

"Okay, so you didn't hear anything bad about this guy, right?"

"Well, no, but--"

"I mean, he's not some weirdo or pervert? Not like he'd try anything, you know, with another guy's girl?"

Cassie was at a loss. To her, the boy didn't exist. Neither should the girl, as she never appeared in Cassie's dreams despite the eerie sense of familiarity. "I ... no ... no, I haven't heard anything like that. But I haven't heard anything about him at all either way."

"Hey, no prob, it's okay. Yeah, I'm worried over nothing. Jerry knows I want this time for us. Matt will probably just hang with us for a bit, and then Jerry and I can get down and dirty." She winked. "If ya do remember anything else, let me know, okay? See ya around."

"Okay. Oh, wait, I don't know your name!" Cassie called out as the girl rushed off.

The girl spun around long enough to shout back, "Stephanie Fowler!"

"And I'm Cass--"

The girl vanished into the crowd of students.

"Trouble, babe?"

Cassie whirled around. "What? Oh, Ned, no, it's fine."

Ned craned his neck. "Talkin' ta the same girl again?"

"Oh, did you see her?"

"Nah, but it lookin' like you were callin' out ta someone."

Having Ned see the girl would have been comforting to Cassie for some reason. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

"I was gonna ask ya the same thing. Ya seem wired."

Cassie shook her head. "Just worried about Heather. She has Ms. Hollis next."

"No sweat, Richie said he'd get himself an eyeful of whatever's goin' on in that class."

"That doesn't really help protect her, does it? I mean, he can't exactly break into the class and stop whatever's going on."

"Mebbe not, but at least we'll know what the low-down is. That's half the battle right there."

Cassie nodded. She stared down the corridor where she had last seen Stephanie.

Ned peered as well. "Ya sure yer okay, babe?"

"Ned, you know a girl named Stephanie Fowler?"

"I know a Stephanie, yeah, but her last name's Wood. And she prefers ya call her Stephie. Why, was that who ya were talkin' to?"

"I guess that must have been it. I must have misheard her last name."

"Huh. Didn't think Wood and Fowler really sounded--"

Cassie slammed her locker shut. She had no idea if she had the right books for the next class and did not care. "Anyway, Ned, I need to get to class."

"Hey, um, before ya go, I didn't get a chance to say something to ya earlier. I didn't recall ya in my dreams last night, and I know ya said you'd try it again."

Cassie sighed. "Ned, I didn't have a chance to do it. I ... well ... my mind was occupied with other people, and there wasn't enough time before morning. I'll try again tonight."

Ned sensed the irritation behind Cassie's voice. He still had the feeling something else was going on. "Okay, sure, no prob. We'll meet up after this class and see if Heather's okay."

"Sure. I'll see you then."

Heather lingered at the doorway for a moment before she ventured past the threshold. Her eyes sought Ms. Hollis. The horrible black miasma still surrounded her teacher, rippling in placid waves as if asleep or dormant. Ms. Hollis acknowledged no one as they passed, her eyes on her paperwork.

Heather peered at the faces of the other students. Her sex tingled as she saw them still locked with one another in sexual union in her mind's eye, her memory of the day before still as vivid as if it had just happened. It dovetailed into her thoughts of her fellow Harbingers, and what sexual antics she would choreograph for them after school.

Heather sighed and dropped into her seat. The ease of which she could control the sexuality of her friends was not the issue. Each time she controlled them, she felt she was becoming again the Heather that Melinda hated, the one that was used to getting her own way and expected everyone to comply with her wishes simply because she said so.

And to be so close to knowing why only to have it snatched away again ...

"Hey, you okay?"

Heather's head jerked towards the sound. Her eyes widened as they fell on Brad.

When she didn't reply, Brad offered a weak smile. "Just wanted to see if you were okay, you looked kinda down."

Heather stared for another few seconds. Brad shifted in his seat and his lips twitched, as if not knowing what expression to form. You fucked me right here in this classroom yesterday, doesn't that mean anything to you? Heather shouted in her head. "I'm fine, Brad, just stop worrying about me," she said, a trace of irritation in her voice.

"Hey, um, no prob. I just want ... well ... I guess I just want to make up for things."

Heather forced a smile. "I appreciate it, really. I just have other things on my mind."

Brad nodded and drummed his fingers against his knee. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted another boy looking at him and snickering. Brad glared at him and forced him to subside. When he turned towards Heather again, she had looked away.

Shit. Brad almost let the expletive fall from his lips. He faced forward and frowned as he saw the other boy glancing at him while commenting and chuckling to his friend.

A fucking laughing stock, he thought. Can't even get a frickin' date for the party.

Everyone he had asked thus far all claimed to have dates already. That exhausted the pool of girls that did not shy away from him when he walked down the hallway. He did not expect his prospects to improve beyond that.

He would not admit it, even to himself, but he was holding out for Heather.

Distracted by his woes, he failed to notice that Heather was looking at him again. A slow sigh drifted from between her lips. Her pussy, already warm with her thoughts of the Harbingers, flushed hot.

He was a really great fuck, Heather thought. Her thighs parted and quivered. She swallowed and faced forward just as the bell rang, and she forced her legs to close against the wet heat.

Ms. Hollis looked up and rose from her chair. As she crossed the room towards the door, her Aura flowed in lazy, passive wisps that floated like thermals with little sense of purpose, as if her Aura were a thick cloak tossed on with little ceremony.

She closed the door, and the din of conversation subsided. "We'll start the next section in the textbook today. Let's hope you all pay more attention to this one than you did the last one."

As much as Heather hated watching an Aura, she kept her gaze locked on the one around Ms. Hollis. Is it supposed to be that ... well, quiet? she thought.

"Perhaps you need some more incentive to hold the information in your heads," said Ms. Hollis. "I'll see to rewarding students that give me correct answers to questions I ask during the course of the class."

A tiny smile curled Ms. Hollis' lips as she turned to face the class. Heather's thighs quivered once more.

Richie was told to wait awhile before looking in on Heather's class, but no one had settled on how long that should be. He decided to wait until math class bored him to the point that he stared at the clock and willed it to move faster. With anything regarding numbers that had nothing to do with baseball stats, this was all of ten minutes.

He forced himself to tune into the class again. Ms. Ronston was a severe-faced older woman with a rough complexion and beady eyes. She stared over the tops of her tiny glasses at a student that just gave a wrong answer. She was about to lecture him when Richie waved his hand like a banner.

Ms. Ronston narrowed her eyes, giving the disconcerting appearance of being able to see through her own eyelids. "Be still my heart if you actually know the right answer, Mr. Gardner."

Richie lowered his hand. "Nah, I just gotta go."

Ms. Ronston stared, as immobile as a beanpole. "Please elaborate."

Richie frowned. "Huh?"

"Go where, Mr. Gardner?"

"To the bathroom."

Several students snickered. Ms. Ronston's lips thinned. "Must you do that now?"

"Yeah, unless you want a puddle on the floor."

"Kindly not use such language in my class."

"What? Not like I said what was in the puddle."

A student snorted. Ms. Ronston glared at him, then declared to Richie, "Fine. You are excused. But you are responsible for whatever you miss while you are gone."

"Gotcha," Richie said and sprang out of his seat. He waited until he was at the door before he muttered "Miss Lizard Face" under his breath.

Richie slipped out of the classroom and closed the door behind him. He smirked and wondered if he should volunteer for these things more often. He almost hoped that he would see something in Ms. Hollis class just so he had an excuse to linger.

Not like you're gonna get any other chance to see some action with her.

He frowned as he headed away from the classroom. That was not why he did this. He really wanted to do his part for the Harbingers.

And if the Darkness found out you helped them?

He had to believe it would be okay. The Darkness couldn't know everything. So long as Ms. Hollis didn't see him, his mother would be safe. Yet it would add to the many things he could not let himself think about during sex.

Richie turned at the hallway junction and started down the corridor to Ms. Hollis' class. He was a full row of lockers past the corner when gaze rose and his feet froze in place. What the fuck?!

Richie had enough presence of mind to realize that dashing away would make too much noise. He backed up the way he came, his steps measured and quiet, until he was around the corner and out of view.

He heard a soft scuffing sound, but no footsteps approached. He crept back to the corner and peeked around it just to confirm what he had seen. The man was still standing there, peering through the window into Ms. Hollis' class.

What the freaking hell is Saggy-Seeger doing there? Richie thought.

Heather's breath quickened as the lecture dragged. Her skin flushed with growing excitement. Her attention was riveted on Ms. Hollis, silently begging for the teacher to start asking questions of the other students. Each time Ms. Hollis paused with her eyes on a student, Heather held her breath, her pussy hot and steaming, her tongue licking her lips.

She didn't know what she was expecting, just that she wanted it to happen.

Heather swallowed hard and let out a ragged sigh when Ms. Hollis began another part of the lecture. She looked down at herself. When she had been under Nyssa's thrall, she could see her own Aura. She saw nothing about herself now.

She closed her eyes. She wanted to resist it, but she had entered the classroom horny of her own accord. She couldn't separate her own feelings from whatever the Darkness was pouring into her head.

If it were the Darkness, for it still did not feel like it.

Ms. Hollis' paused in her lecture. Heather's eyes blinked open. She could not recall what her teacher had just said. Ms. Hollis' face was expectant as she held her gaze on a student.

It was one of the jocks. Heather only knew him by his first name Jed. She was never interested in him, yet now her attention hung on what he was going to say next.

Jed answered, his voice tentative. Heather's heart pounded. Ms. Hollis smiled. "Yes, that's correct." Her head bowed as she jotted down something on a notepad perched in the center of her open textbook. "It's Miss Sovert's turn today, Jed, so go ahead."

Heather's eyes rose. Jed approached her and undid his belt and zipper. Heather stared at the large bulge in his briefs. Her thighs parted in vain to relieve the throbbing ache in her pussy, and she resisted the urge to touch it herself.

He stood next to her desk and pulled down his jeans and briefs. Her eyes were drawn to his pulsing cock, standing hard and straight from his body. A tantalizing, milky drop stood at the tip of the swollen head.

This was the reward for answering the teacher's question correctly? And she was supposed to provide it? But that wasn't ...

(at all unusual)

Heather trembled. Her hand rose and wrapped its fingers around the base of his cock in an automatic gesture. Jed swung his hips forward, touching the head to her lips. Heather licked the drop of pre-coital excitement from the head, and desire ran hot and liquid in her sex. She let out a low, lustful sigh as he slid past her lips and deep into her eager mouth.

"Mmm ... mmmm ..." Heather moaned as her head bobbed, her fingers working the bottom half of his shaft at the same time.

She spread her legs further. Her pussy was sopping. Moisture trickled from the edges of her panties. She thrust her hips forward, as if inviting someone to enter her.

No one made a fuss. No one said a word of either shock or encouragement, as if Ms. Hollis had simply told them to read the next page in the textbook.

She heard Ms. Hollis ask another question, and another boy answered. "Correct," said Ms. Hollis. "Very good."

Heather closed her eyes, loosening her lips around Jed's cock long enough to let herself exhale around his shaft. The wonderful smell of his arousal and taste of pre-orgasmic fluid that dotted her tongue rose to her nose. Her pussy throbbed in soft pleasure, like a gentle, teasing orgasm.

She heard a seat move back, and then a zipper come down. Another boy stood at the other side of her desk. Her free hand rose and cradled his hardness. She let Jed pop from her mouth, her fingers curling around his shaft and stroking it as she leaned away. She glanced up. This new boy's name was Ken, or Kenny.

It didn't matter who he was. She sucked his cock into her mouth, cheeks dimpling as her lips massaged his shaft in slow, deep strokes.

This could not be right. Something was ...

(normal)

... and she should have expected ... No, this ...

(is what always happened)

... whenever the teacher had a question and answer session.

Jed thrust his hips forward, wanting the attention of Heather's mouth again. Heather's protests dissolved as Ken's cock popped from her mouth and she devoured Jed's once more.

Jason paused halfway through the sentence he was writing in his notebook with a small sigh of exasperation. He looked up at the instructor and tried to reconnect with the lecture.

For the third time in the past five minutes he had zoned-out in the middle of writing notes, the concept he had been trying to absorb now lost. Such lack of concentration was alien to him. Now he struggled to remember what had been said only moments before.

He knew he could just read the textbook that evening to catch up; his teacher was not very inventive and refused to deviate from the text. But he wanted to dedicate all his free time to the Harbingers, not to mention servicing Heather's "special needs."

Jason frowned. Months ago he would have been happy for even a fraction of the sex he was getting, and now he thought it was too much. That crossed the line from irony to lunacy.

Melinda almost slammed her text book closed and threatened to sit out the rest of the class with her arms folded across her chest. Her teacher would not have done more than utter a windy sigh that sounded like a leaky foghorn. Yet accompanying each of those sighs would be a note sent home to her mother complaining about Melinda's "peevishness and lack of maturity" in class.

She always struggled with this course anyway. She loathed English literature. "It's just a bunch of people running around talking about their horrible lives and doing stupid things to make them more horrible," Melinda had complained once to Jason. "And then it makes my life horrible because I have to read it."

Usually she could muddle through it, but that particular class the concepts were sliding off her mind like wet ice cubes. The start of class had not been much worse than normal, but she had reached her tolerance level earlier than usual.

She frowned and glanced towards the door. She felt like she needed to be anywhere but in that classroom. Even being forced into another tryst with her sister Heather would be better than this.

Diane stared at a single page in the textbook, the same page since the class began. The words of the instructor became little more than a background drone, fading into nonexistence.

She began worrying the moment she left Heather before the start of class. Of all the semesters not to be in the same class rotation! Ever since they had met in the second semester of freshman year, they had been fortunate enough to share the same classes. This was the first semester that they were separated.

Diane's stomach churned, whatever remained of her breakfast an indigestible lump in her belly. She looked up as if expecting to see something, and turned her head as if trying to hear a distant sound.

And, inexplicably, a cold tingle of fear crawled up her spine.

Seeger's brows knitted together in thought, his jowls sagging even further with his frown.

He stared through the tiny window into Ms. Hollis' class. He heard her muffled voice through the door as she hovered near the front of the class, an open textbook in one hand.

As he watched, she stepped forward and directed a question at one of the students. It was Jed Ridner. Not a stellar student, but not a troublemaker, either. Jed hesitated before giving an answer tentative enough that Seeger could only see his lips moving. He heard Ms. Hollis proclaim he was correct.

At that point, Ms. Hollis jotted down something in a small notepad spread across the open pages of her textbook, silent as she did so. Finally, she looked up and moved on with the lesson.

Jed remained in his seat, as Seeger expected.

Another student was asked a question. Another correct answer. Another pause from Ms. Hollis to note something down. That student remained in his seat as well. He was not expecting anything else.

He picked out Heather from among the students. His eyes narrowed as he stared.

Heather Sovert sat with her hands folded before her, the textbook open on her desk, her eyes following Ms. Hollis. She made no effort to volunteer answers to any of Ms. Hollis' questions, but she appeared to be paying attention, which was a far cry from some of the other students.

Seeger tilted his head. She was as still as a statue, save for the slow blink of her eyes. It should not concern him. After speaking with Laura earlier, he had looked up Heather's record. Her grades were slipping that term. Perhaps she decided to pay more attention in class.

Yet he could not shake the sense that there was something wrong.

He craned his neck and looked at Ms. Hollis again. She put a question to another boy. He got it wrong. Without pause, she moved to another, and he got it right. Ms. Hollis made another note.

His eyes were drawn to the student that gave the last right answer. The boy remained in his seat. Yet Seeger stared anyway, as if daring him to do something unexpected.

He let out a sigh and stepped back from the door. He felt foolish. Why would there be anything out of place here? Laura was sending him on a wild goose chase. Richie's fantastic story and Heather's stain were the flimsy reasons he had used to convince himself that this exercise in futility would have any merit. Thinking about the former was a sign of insanity, and thinking about the latter was a sign of perversion.

He wanted no part of either. He shook his head and walked away.

Richie waited until the Vice Principal had disappeared down another corridor before emerging. He frowned in Seeger's wake. So maybe he wants to get off watching teenage girls forced to make out, he thought. The idea of Seeger even remotely connected to anything sexual made him shudder. Yeah, I'm fucking scarred for life now.

Richie crept to the door and peered inside. He found Heather, and with her, a sense of disappointment. Seeing her naked and wet would have been some small compensation for rejecting him from her private sex club.

He leaned forward just far enough to catch a glimpse of Ms. Hollis, then recoiled, wrinkling his nose as if smelling something bad. Yeah, she's got the Dark shit all right.

But Heather did not.

Richie frowned. The same sense was coming over him as well, that something was wrong with this picture. He cursed under his breath. He had to get back to his class. Seeger had lingered for so long that he had no time to stick around to see if anything happened.

Nevertheless, he decided to take one last look before he left.

Heather was feverish with the unrelenting heat that spread from her steamy pussy. Her hips slid forward on her chair, and she whimpered for the next boy to stick his cock where she most needed it.

Instead, her blouse was pawed open and her bra pulled off. Something hard pressed into the plump flesh of her left boob and stroked against her tingling nipple. The touch sent a shiver through her that shook the chair. She abandoned the cock in her mouth in favor of this new one, sucking it down as if starved. Her fingers pumped the other two cocks, the boys rocking their hips in time to her strokes.

A forth one came to her and rubbed his cock against her right tit.

Heather's thoughts spun through a maelstrom of sexual need. She was doing this as if it had been expected of her. It was her turn that day. It ...

(is all perfectly normal)

Heather shuddered. A ragged moan issued through her nostrils. As her head drew back, she faltered, her lips trembling around the head. The cock was shoved back into her hesitant mouth, forcing her to keep sucking.

She could not stop herself. But it was still ...

(normal)

... not ...

(unusual at all)

...

Heather pulled her head back, gasping as if suffocating. The cock against her right breast lifted and slid itself under her nose. She breathed in the male scent of arousal and whimpered. Her mouth opened, and in it went. "Mmm ... mmmmm ...."

It was ...

(normal)

But it had to be ...

(normal)

Yet all of this was ...

(NORMAL)

NO!

Something burst inside her head. She felt electrified, energy pouring into her in a torrent. Her thoughts coalesced around a moment of crystal clarity, like a lens suddenly coming into focus, a moment like the day before.

Heather's movements did not falter. Her head bobbed, her hands stroked, cocks rubbed against her tits to get her attention. She would not stop, and her pussy begged for the reward she hoped would be allowed for doing her duty.

But I WILL NOT believe that this is NORMAL!

Jason jerked in his seat as if struck, knocking his notebook to the floor.

Melinda uttered a loud gasp, her head flying up and hair whipping about her head.

Every muscle in Diane's body tensed and trembled, rattling her chair.

Each one drew a moment of silence and awkward stares. They were forced to maintain their composure against a loud cry of help and a burst of vivid imagery. For a few seconds, each felt as if he or she were in two places at once, a ghostly crowd of bodies around them, alien sensations brushing the edge of their perceptions.

As each apologized for disturbing the class, their voices faltered as they felt a draining sensation that left them weak and dazed. Their fear that the Darkness had somehow found a way to attack them and end their fight in one horrible ambush faded as their respective classes moved on, replaced by the vague feeling that they had somehow stopped Heather from falling to Ms. Hollis.

Yet it would not stop them from looking at the clock, impatient for the class to be over.

What the flying FUCK?!

Richie had let his gaze wander from Heather for a moment, and when it returned, the scene had transformed.

In the space of a few seconds, Heather had somehow stripped off her blouse and bra and leaned in her seat as if expecting the next guy to come along and fuck her. Her hands were raised in the air, fingers curled and sliding back and forth. Her mouth was open, her eyes closed as her head bobbed. Richie recognized the moves from the porn flicks. She was stroking two cocks in her hands and had one in her mouth.

Except that no one was there.

Her hands and mouth moved against nothing but air, like a perverted mime routine. And no one in the class noticed.

Richie blinked. Now Heather was once more clothed, prim and proper, hands folded, listening attentively to the teacher.

Christ on a pony, Richie thought. Either I'm fucking hallucinating, or some serious shit is going on here.

Richie looked at a clock on the wall and cursed. He glanced once more into the room before dashing back towards his class.

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