"Mother, please."

Janet Woodrow spun around, her wavy black hair spilling over one shoulder. She brushed a few errant strands out of her eyes with a swipe of her hand. "I said no, Diane, and that's final."

Her voice was more tired than angry. She was at a loss as to her daughter's recent streak of recalcitrance. She liked to think that she had a better relationship with her daughter than most parents had with their teens. Now Diane had become a stranger to her.

Janet let her stern gaze linger on her daughter for another moment before turning back towards the stove. "Really, Diane, I hardly get to see you anymore outside of the weekends, and even then you're spending more time with your friends than your own family."

Diane started to sigh, then caught herself and let out a slow breath instead when her mother gave her a warning look. "Mother, I won't be gone long."

"That's what you always say, and then you're never home on time. No, I want you to stay home and have the nice dinner I'm making for all of us. Your Aunt Betty is going to be here as well."

"I'll be home for dinner, Mother."

"No, you'll be home now, because I want you to help me cook."

Diane glanced at the stove, then watched her mother fetch some spices from the cupboard. "But you don't need me for this, you've always done this dish by yourself."

Janet clenched her teeth to stop herself from making the very sound that she hated hearing from Diane. She never felt this frustrated with her daughter. Even when Diane was a child, she was usually well-behaved and minded her parents.

And never did she remember Diane talking back this much.

Janet slapped the bottle of oregano on the counter and turned to face Diane, one hand on her hip. "All right, Diane, I want to be fair about this. Just what is it you need to do that's so urgent?"

Diane hesitated. She was tempted to reveal the Harbingers, but that relied on her mother's recollection of the events surrounding Nyssa. Janet had fallen afoul of Principal Bendon when she had attempted to complain about the nurse's medical program. Soon after Nyssa was defeated, however, Diane realized that her mother had either forgotten or blocked it from her mind.

"Well?" Janet said, folding her arms. "If this is really so urgent, you can tell me what this is about."

"I just ... I just want to see Heather, that's all," Diane said. She let a morose sigh pass her lips, as her mother's reaction no longer mattered. She assumed her reason would not pass muster and turned away.

"That's it?" her mother said. "I mean, I don't want to trivialize your relationship with her. I'm glad you have someone that's such a close friend, but it comes back to what I said about family over friends."

Diane just nodded and looked towards the door.

Janet tilted her head. "No, that's not it, is it?" she asked in a more gentle voice.

"It's what I said, Mother. I want to spend time with her."

"But you want to do that all the time now."

Diane turned, her eyes glistening and pleading.

Janet stepped forward and touched her daughter's shoulder. "Diane, what is it?"

Diane was in too deep now to get out. The tone of caring concern was also a declaration that her mother knew something was upsetting her and refused to let it go until Diane confessed. "Mother, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, honey, you know you always can."

"If ... if I were dating ... if I told you I wanted to go out because it was a date, you wouldn't think twice about it, right?"

"But in the middle of the day?"

"All right, say it was at night. You never let me go out at night."

"Not alone, honey, that's all."

"But what if I wanted to go out with Heather?"

Janet considered. An alarm sounded in the back of her mind, but she ignored it. She was not as ignorant of events at Haven High as Diane believed. She had heard rumors about her daughter and tried her best to give them no credence. "You never mentioned you wanted to go out at night with her."

"But if it was a date, you wouldn't think twice, right?"

Janet paused. "Is that it, Diane? You have a boyfriend you haven't told me about?"

Diane shook her head. "Mother, please, just answer me. Would you let me out at night on a date? Or even now if this was a date?"

Janet let out a slow, contemplative breath through her nose and refused to call it a "sigh." Her own parents had objected to the boy that eventually became her husband, and she had to fight with them to see him. She didn't want to see herself doing the same thing to Diane. "Well, I suppose if you were really serious about him, I would try to give you a little more leeway."

Diane swallowed. Her heart pounded. "This is what this is, Mother. A date."

There was a long, heavy silence. "With?" Janet prompted, but received no answer. Her eyes widened. "Not ... not ... Heather?"

Diane nodded.

Janet stared. The struggle in her head between realization and acceptance was all too apparent. "Wait ... Diane, you ... you're not saying that ... what you really mean is ..."

"That I'm a lesbian, Mother," said Diane in a quavering voice.

Diane fell against the counter, one hand rising to her forehead. "Oh dear."

"I'm sorry!" Diane cried. "I-I mean, I'm not sorry, not for being that way, just for not telling you before now."

Janet had no idea what to say. She was not prepared. It would have been easier to hear that Diane was drinking or doing drugs, or cutting school, or even having sex clandestinely with a boy.

It reminded her too much of what she wanted to forget: her encounter with the school principal. It had faded enough in her mind to be no more than a surreal dream. She could come close to convincing herself that it had never happened.

The silence was killing Diane. Her eyes blurred with unshed tears. "Mother, p-please tell me you don't hate me."

This broke Janet out of her emotional paralysis, and she pulled Diane into a tight embrace. "Diane, of course I don't hate you! I'm sorry, you just caught me a bit by surprise. I just don't know what to say."

Diane let out a relieved sigh. This was enough to chase away most of her fears.

Janet pulled back from the embrace, but kept her hands on her daughter's shoulders. "So is this what it's been about for the past month? Is that why you've been so secretive?"

Diane nodded. She didn't trust her voice to properly reinforce the partial lie. "I actually feel a little better now that you know about it. I mean ... you're not going to stop me from seeing her are you?"

"What? No, of course not. I doubt I could stop you even if I wanted to. I just ... I just don't know what to tell you, is all. I can't relate to this." Janet shivered at the memory of the principal again, but shook it off. "I can't relate to this," she repeated , forcing her voice steady. "I can't give you any advice."

"I know, Mother, and I don't think I need any."

"I assume Heather knows about this? You're not just admiring her from afar?"

Diane blushed. "No, definitely not," she said in a low voice.

Janet knew what that blush meant. "Oh my."

Diane's lips twitched into a tiny smile. "Look at it this way, Mother. At least you don't have to worry about me getting pregnant."

Janet managed to return the smile, but her hands squeezed Diane's shoulders. "Diane, honey, even though this is ... um ... safer than doing it with a boy, it's still sex, and it still has to mean something. Don't treat it as something casual."

Diane remained quiet and drew her feet together. Heat had sparked in her sex, and Heather's distant siren call now teased her thoughts.

"And it needs to be mutual feelings as well," Janet said.

"It is, Mother. Heather and I love each other."

Janet smiled and lifted her hand to her daughter's hair. "So would you consider bringing her over for dinner some time?"

Diane's eyes widened. "What? But ... uh ..."

Janet stroked Diane's hair. "Dear, I'd ask the same thing if it were a boy you were going with. Work with me here, Diane. This is the only thing I can think of to do to show you some support."

Diane relaxed somewhat. "All right, I'll ask her about it."

"Just maybe not tonight." Janet paused. "I'm pretty sure I can get your father to understand, but I really don't want my sister to get wind of this right now. I mean, I am not ashamed of you, it's just that she's such a busybody anymore."

"I know, Mother, I understand," Diane said. A faint smile crossed her lips. "I just never heard you come out and admit that about her."

"She is your father's sister, and I would rather not complain about her if I can avoid it." Janet lowered her hand. "All right, Diane, you can go, so long as you promise to be more up front about where you're going, and you stay home every now and then to be with your family."

Diane smiled and hugged her mother. "I will. Thank you."

Janet squeezed her eyes shut as she embraced her daughter.

"I better get going, Mother, I told Heather I would meet her in a little while."

"Just be home by dinner, and that's non-negotiable."

"I will, Mother. Thanks."

Janet smiled as she watched her daughter leave. Only once the front door had closed did she collapse against the counter again and rub her temples.

She would not let it dredge up that terrible memory. She had to keep pretending that it never happened, that it had been some strange waking dream. She shuddered and forced herself to return her concentration to preparing dinner, though her head spun with the question on how she was going to break this to her husband Ralph.

"Look, all I want to know is exactly what happened to me in that class," Heather declared. She glanced towards the back door of the house and sighed. "It was real. I could taste those cocks in my mouth! I could feel them against my tits! I--"

"We get the point, Heather," Cassie said, squirming in her seat.

"And I know what I saw," Richie drawled. "Yeah, maybe you were movin' like you were doing all that, but no one was there."

"And there ain't no one willin' ta fess-up ta havin' part of a class orgy yesterday," Ned said.

"I know! I know!" Heather cried, grabbing her hair as if intending to tear it out. She turned away from the others and looked towards the kitchen again. "And where the hell is Diane?!"

"I already said she called me on my cell and told me she's on her way," Cassie replied. "Please, she'll be here soon, there's no point in getting upset over it."

"Yeah, you'll have plenty of time to boink her later," Melinda quipped.

Heather stopped herself from lashing out at her sister. She came very close to making Melinda so horny she would fall off the sofa and masturbate in an insatiable frenzy. "I'm not even thinking about that right now."

"Liar."

"Don't provoke me, runt, okay?"

Cassie let out a quavering sigh. She could feel Heather's renewed desire like waves of heat. Her gaze flitted to the others. Jason tugged at his belt. Melinda shifted in her seat as if unable to get comfortable. She glared at her sister, but it was weak, her eyes sharing some of the lust growing inside Heather.

She didn't dare risk a look at Ned or Richie.

"All right, please," Jason finally said. "Arguing about it will get us nowhere."

"I know what happened, Jason," Heather said in a lower voice. "It was real. Or at least it seemed real."

"Yes, and what Richie saw seemed real to him as well. What we have to figure out is which version is the correct one. You can't both be right."

"But we felt it too!" Melinda piped. "When Heather tried to call us, I thought I saw some of it, too."

"Diane did," Heather said. "Really strong. She ... there she is!"

Heather rushed towards the kitchen and intercepted Diane as she stepped into the room. "Cassie said you had trouble with your mother," said Heather. "Is everything squared away with her now?"

Diane nodded and even smiled. "Yes! In fact, I have good news, but let me talk to you later about that. What did I miss?"

"We were talking about how Heather connected with some of us when she was in Ms. Hollis class," said Jason.

"Yes, I remember that."

"Diane, tell them what you told me over lunch," Heather said.

Diane shuddered. "It was like I was in Heather's body for a few seconds. I could ... um ... well ... what the guys were doing with her, I could sense that."

"She said she could taste it at one point," Heather declared.

Diane wrinkled her nose. "I really don't want to experience that again. It convinced me I'm just not into guys."

"I didn't get it that strongly," Jason said.

Richie smirked. "Lucky you. Not enough mouthwash in the world for me if I had to taste that."

"I could see and maybe hear a little," Jason said. "I knew something was happening, and then the sensation afterward, like energy draining from me."

"I had that, too," Melinda said.

Diane nodded. "Yes, so did I."

"Wow," Ned said. "It's like ya all jump-started her willpower or somethin'."

"It wasn't enough to make me stop," Heather said. "I was still horny as hell and wanted to suck those cocks just one after the other."

Cassie sighed again, half in frustration and half in unbidden arousal. Melinda folded her arms to hide her raised nipples and tried not to squirm.

"But I still knew it was all wrong," Heather continued. "Something was trying to make me believe everything was normal. That's what you all helped me stop."

"Okay, so here's the million-dollar question," said Ned. "Why just Jason, Melinda, and Diane? I woulda been glad ta lend my noggin' ta help any one of you."

"No, that's not the question!" Melinda cried. "The question is, why didn't she have a freaking Aura?"

The room became silent.

"Well, c'mon, isn't that more important?" Melinda demanded.

Cassie took a deep breath. She finally risked a look at Ned. He was standing with his arms folded, his brow creased in thought. His body looked tense. She could not tell if it were simple agitation or repressed sexual desire.

Richie stared at the lot of them, sitting backwards on a chair he had swiped from the dining room, his chin resting on his hands. He shifted his eyes towards Heather until she happened to look his way, only to avert her gaze a second later.

Richie frowned. It didn't matter if Heather were ignoring him. His cock stirred anyway in response to his own feelings.

"I think you're getting too hung up on that, runt," Heather muttered.

"Why? Because you're afraid you might really have one?"

"I don't have one, Melinda! Stop sounding like you want me to have one!"

"Well, it would make a hell of a lot more sense!"

"Is that all the two of you know how to do is fight?" Diane said in a weak voice.

Heather sighed. "Diane, I'm sorry. I'm at my wits' end right now, okay?"

"I know what it is, she's getting horny again," Melinda muttered. "I can already feel it."

"Yeah, and what if I am? What if I just can't control it?"

"We're getting off the subject," Cassie declared in a quavering voice. "Please, let's not talk about that right now. Let's get back to ... to ..."

She trailed off. She and Melinda exchanged a glance and realized they both had come to the same conclusion. No matter what subject they chose, it was all one and the same. Cassie looked towards Jason, who fiddled with his belt.

"All right, enough of this tip-toeing 'round the facts," Ned finally said. "I'll say what everyone else won't. Diane, Melinda, and Jason were the only ones tuned ta Heather's frequency. They're also the same ones that were invited inta Heather's little love-fests."

Another heavy silence.

"That's really circumstantial evidence at best," said Jason, though his voice was tentative.

"Yeah, Ned, you're the one that still thinks the school counselor is the bad guy," Melinda snapped.

"Hey, ya wanna think I'm nuts, fine with me," Ned said. "But it was gettin' a might musky in here with the big elephant in the room that everyone was ignorin'."

"But that's crazy, Ned!" Heather cried. "It means I'm just ... that I'm just using everyone to protect me!"

"Hey, and why the hell not? If ya didn't get that little burst of energy when ya needed it, ya might not be talkin' ta us about it. Ya woulda been convinced it was another wonderful day in Ms. Hollis' class."

Heather wanted to protest, but she had no other explanation. She was suddenly reminded of that fleeting moment in the throes of passion the day before, when everything had come together in her mind.

"Ned," Cassie said in a small voice. "It's ... it's a wild theory."

"Yeah, babe, but doesn't it kinda fit with some of the stuff Mrs. Radson was tellin' ya?"

"That's a bit of a stretch, really."

"Yeah, mebbe. But mebbe not. Look, I dunno if I'm right, I jus' want us ta consider it."

"All right, it's certainly a possibility," Jason said. "But I would need more proof before I'd believe there was a direct connection between the two."

Heather trembled, her breathing a slow, deep pant. She no longer knew whether Ned was right or not, only that talking about it was making her pussy wet.

"There's another thing, too," Ned said. "What about Heather's precog shtick?"

"What about it?" Heather said.

"It's gotten stronger since ya started do the fandango with more of us, right?"

"We sort of knew that already, Ned."

"Yeah, but what if that an' the thing today is all wrapped up in the same package? It's not jus' the amount of sex yer gettin', it's how many people yer doin' it with that really--"

"Stop it, Ned!" Cassie cried. She bolted to her feet and took a few steps away. She heaved a shuddering sigh.

Ned stared in surprise. "Huh? What'd I say?"

"I-I'm sorry," Cassie said in a small voice and visibly trembled. "You didn't really say anything. It's what you're implying about Heather, that her power gets better each time she includes more people in her ... her s-sexual circle."

Ned fell silent. He glanced at Heather for a moment, then back at Cassie. He understood Cassie's issue, but no words would come to him that he did not fear would upset Cassie further.

Richie narrowed his eyes and focused them on Heather in quiet accusation, but of what he was not sure.

Cassie turned towards Heather, her eyes pleading. "I can't do it, Heather," she said in a weak voice. "Don't ask me, because I can't."

"I wasn't going to," Heather retorted with little conviction.

"But you want to. You want me."

Heather turned her head as if intending to look away, but kept her dark gaze on Cassie.

Cassie shivered. "S-see? You're doing it now." Her eyes darted towards Ned. "I'm already going to have to do something about this or I'll just be a mess for the rest of the day."

Ned's jaw tightened. He didn't want to mention that he had no guarantee of privacy back home.

"I'm sorry, I-I have to get away from this for a few minutes," Cassie said in a weak voice. Ned turned towards her, but she shook her head and waved her arm, her eyes blurred with unshed tears as she stumbled into the kitchen and out into the back yard.

Ned watched her go, looking deflated.

"Way to go, bubblehead," Melinda muttered.

"Shut the hell up, runt," Heather growled.

Jason ran his hand through his hair. "Stop it, please. We're getting all worked up over something that might not even be true."

Richie tensed. He felt like he was watching a movie of a secret meeting, where he could only shout at the characters on the screen. He dared to think that the Darkness might have been right after all, that none of them really gave a shit about him.

Stop it, you asshole. Thinking like that is what got you so fucked up by Nyssa.

Yet the thought remained and festered like a sore.

Ned spun around. "Okay, fine, Mr. Brainiac. Then figger out a way ta prove it or disprove it. Otherwise, yer not doin' a whole lot ta solve the problem."

"Oh, shut up, Ned!" Melinda piped. "Where do you get off talking like that to--?!"

"Melinda, you're not helping," Jason declared.

Melinda was shocked into silence long enough for Ned to continue to vent. "Look, we can go debatin' this til the cows come home, and it don't mean shit unless we figger out what's right and what's not."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Melinda demanded. "You going to volunteer to join Heather's next boink-fest? See if it charges her up or something?"

"And have Cassie upset with me? No freaking way."

"Then what's the point of bringing it up?"

Richie bolted from his chair, which tipped over with a muffled thud against the thick carpet. He barreled towards the back of the house.

"Richie, wait, where are you going?" Jason called out.

Richie turned. "I'm gonna go join Cassie. I need some time away from all the fucking hot air in here. And y'know, I just might keep on going. See ya in the funny papers, all."

"Wait, Richie, don't," Jason said, reaching for his arm.

Richie leapt back. "No, forget it, man! I'm tired of this shit! It's like it's become a freaking private club with Heather and I'm tired of waiting for some gold-trimmed invite to arrive in the fucking mail. I'm tired of being looked at like I was something that the butler scraped off his fucking shoe when he went to answer the door."

Heather took a half-step forward. "Richie, I never meant anything like that. You don't understand."

"Yeah, you're right, I don't. News flash: I don't wanna fucking understand. I just want to be treated like everyone else in here."

"You just want to boink Heather," Melinda muttered in a low voice.

Richie clenched his teeth hard enough that Ned could hear them grinding together. He lunged towards Melinda, and both Jason and Ned moved to intercept him when he halted a few feet from her. Melinda almost bolted from her seat.

"You know something, pipsqueak? You're right. You're absolutely, crap-tastically right. I do wanna fuck Heather. She's one of the most freaking hot girls in the whole damn town. She's got fantastic boobs, a great ass, and a really nice tight cunt. And I think her red hair is sexy as hell. And I get a kick outta how she squirts when she cums. So, yeah, maybe I want some of that. You wanna call me a fucking pervert for that? Fine, I don't give a shit. But don't pretend like Jason's not thinking about Heather boobs or her ass or her pussy when he's dipping his wick into her!"

Richie stalked off. He crossed the threshold into the kitchen when Jason finally overcame his shock. "Richie, please don't leave!"

"I'm not leavin', okay?" Richie said without slowing or turning around. "I just gotta get some air."

The Harbingers watched him go in silence. Heather finally let out a long, troubled sigh and sank into the sofa, dropping her face into her hands. Diane drew close and draped an arm around her lover's shoulders. Melinda stared, first at the spot where Richie last stood, then Heather, then Jason, her eyes vacillating between hurt and anger.

Ned let out a windy sigh as he collapsed into a chair. "Yeah, we really gotta do this more often," he muttered.

Cassie left her jacket behind, hoping that the sharp chill would help curb her arousal and somehow numb her feelings of frustration and defeat. Instead, all she did was shiver against the cold, and the solitude destroyed what little hold she had over her emotions. As she sat down on one of the landscaping boulders, she burst into tears.

Her cry lasted less than a minute. It never helped her. She knew some girls who claimed that "a good cry" was all that was needed to get over the worst of it, but all it did was leave her with red and puffy eyes. She was always in such tune with her own emotional state that crying seemed superfluous.

Cassie sniffled and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her blouse. She stared at the faint stain it left in the delicate fabric with a sense of futility. All that would matter to her mother was that she had soiled her dress. Cassie could imagine her response anyway: "Young ladies of elegance do not cry like common girls."

Cassie felt doubly defeated. Her parents would not let her be the "common girl" she so wished she could be, and even if they did, she had to remain the little rich girl for her fellow Harbingers.

But now the Harbingers needed her for more than her money, influence, or a convenient ride about town.

I'm as good as a failure, then, Cassie thought, shaking her head. I just can't do it.

Not that her body wasn't ready for it. Even as upset as she was, her pussy still felt warm, achy, and needy.

"Um, hey."

Cassie flinched as her head jerked up.

"Sorry," Richie mumbled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

Cassie sighed. "I'm not ready to go back inside yet, Richie."

"Then that works out, cuz neither am I. It got too stuffy in there for me."

"Oh. You mean ... Heather's doing it to you, too."

Richie snorted. "Yeah, right, I wish."

Cassie's eyes widened. "You do?"

Richie rocked on his heels. He could not bring himself to repeat what he had said to Melinda. It felt wrong with Cassie, even if he tempered his language. "Hey, um, if you think I'm some pervert because of that, I'll just leave you alone."

"No, no, I didn't mean that at all. Please, don't go."

"Huh. You sound like you mean it."

"I do. Please, stay. Maybe it's not a good idea for me to be alone right now. I mean, if you really want to stay here."

Richie shrugged. "Why not?"

"You still think I'm a little strange, don't you?"

"Yeah, maybe. But who isn't? I mean, I can hear the freaking dead. Perverted and gruesome, that's me."

"I don't think you're either, Richie. That's not what I meant by my question."

"Oh. So what didja mean?"

Cassie hesitated. No one else in the Harbingers seemed to understand her; why would she expect something different from Richie? She thought she was the only one that did not revel in the whole concept of control or being controlled. Even Jason, who resisted the temptation of using the spells in the Book, had stopped fighting Heather's influence. "What I meant was, do you really want Heather controlling you like that?"

Richie smirked. "Nah, not really. I mean, not like she has to, you know what I mean?"

Cassie nodded, trying not to dwell on the thought.

"I mean, c'mon, does that make me an asshole, just cuz I want the same chance everyone else has with her? Just because I want to fuck her?"

Cassie shifted her legs. The conversation was doing little to cool her own lust. "No, of course not."

Richie peered at her. "Yeah, maybe you mean that, too."

"Richie, I won't lie to you, sex is not something that's casual with me. Or at least that's the way it used to be."

"I figgered. Is that what freaked you out about Heather's fuck-fests?"

"Maybe that's part of it, but it's not what really has me upset. It's the fact that I'm not getting a choice in the matter, that I'm being forced into it."

Richie nodded. "Yeah, I hear ya. I don't want her messin' with my head either. I gotta be in control myself, y'know?"

Cassie frowned. "But I don't want that, either."

"Huh?"

"Is it that hard for you to understand?" Cassie asked, her voice devoid of hostility. "I'm not being sarcastic, I really mean that as a question."

"I guess I don't get it."

"Richie, please be honest with me. If you could control Heather somehow, and make her have sex with you, would you do it?"

Richie grunted. "That's not a fair question."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not! Especially coming from you and what you almost did to me once!"

Cassie stared, then turned away, her eyes wet. She forced herself to take a deep breath, but let it out as a sob.

Way to go, you asshole, Richie thought. "Aw, fuck, I'm sorry."

Cassie shook her head and composed herself as she turned to face him again. "Maybe you're right. But that's why I don't want any part of this, why I don't want to be involved with people controlling other people, even if I'm the one ... especially if I'm the one doing it, because of what I almost did to you!"

Richie shuffled his feet. "Yeah, but Nyssa made you do that."

"Only because she found something in me that wanted to do it. That's my point. I don't want to be given that sort of power. And I don't want it used on me not so much because of the loss of control but because it might spark a tit-for-tat, a need for me to do it back to someone else."

Richie didn't respond. He couldn't sort out his own conflict between wanting control and avoiding the path that led him to Nyssa.

Cassie averted her eyes. "Sometimes I think what happened to you with Nyssa -- the way you controlled Miss Davis -- that I was responsible for that."

Richie stared. "Say what?!"

"It's what I just said! Maybe you did that because you needed to, because of the way I almost did it to you." She looked at Richie, and her eyes glistened again. She stood up and stepped away. "Don't listen to me anymore, I don't know what I'm talking about."

Richie sighed and thrust his hands downward as if trying to burst through the bottoms of his pockets. His frantic search for the right words to say came up empty.

While he wanted in on Heather's little orgies, he balked at becoming a sex puppet like the others. His need to be in control was absolute. Cassie didn't cause it. He had harbored the need long before, perhaps ever since his father had left.

"Shit, Cassie, this ain't about you, okay? It's not your fault I'm a friggin' asshole!"

Cassie gasped and turned around. "Richie, please don't say that about yourself."

"Why the fuck not? It's true. C'mon, Cassie, why the hell do you think Heather and Melinda treat me like shit? You said you had dreams about us in the House. You know what I did to them."

"But you don't want to do that to them again," Cassie said.

"And how do you know, huh? Maybe I do."

Cassie paused, then shook her head. "I don't think so."

Richie tensed and stepped towards her, hands balled into fists. He glared at her for another few seconds before he turned away and kicked at a tuft of dead ornamental grass.

"I'm sorry," Cassie said softly. "But that's what I feel from you."

Richie's eyes burned when they turned towards Cassie again. "If I ever get to fuck Heather again, Cassie, I gotta be in control. I don't want her wrapping me around her fucking finger like Melinda or Jason."

Cassie nodded. She took a tentative step towards him. Richie tensed again, but relented. She approached close enough to place a hand on his shoulder. "But you don't want to hurt her."

Richie let out long sigh of exasperation, relief, and embarrassment. "Well, no shit, Cassie. Why the fuck do you think I'm waiting for the green light from her?"

Cassie sensed the awkward moment and withdrew her hand. "I'm not sure what Heather is doing is really control, actually," she said, her voice tentative. Her arousal had finally cooled, and she was reluctant to say or think anything to disrupt her moment of peace. "I don't feel like I have to fall at her feet, or ... or do anything specific for her. I just get ... you know ..."

"Horny as hell?" Richie said, unable to suppress a small smirk.

Cassie blushed and nodded.

Richie's eyes flicked over Cassie's body for a few seconds before he caught himself. Yeah, now you're thinking about her like that. Stupid perverted fuck.

An uneasy silence fell between them, but were spared the task of breaking it when Ned barreled through the back door. "Hey, babe, we better get outta here," he said in a strained voice.

Cassie stepped back from Richie. "Ned? What's the matter?" Her eyes widened as he approached.

Ned jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Heather's libido is goin' on overdrive again and she's about ready ta hit warp speed. She was really tryin' not ta mess with me, but ... um, let's jus' say things are kinda uncomfortable right now."

Her eyes flitted to his crotch. He noticed her gaze and shifted his weight, but the movement only brought more attention to the hard bulge in his jeans. Her thighs quivered as a wave of heat washed over her, shattering her moment of calm. "All right, we'll go."

"Babe, I'm not sure we can use my place if we, uh, ya know, need ta--"

"We'll figure something out, okay? Let's just go! Oh, Richie, wait, I--"

Richie shook his head and waved her off. "It's cool. I gotta head home anyway. Have fun."

Cassie smiled, but shivered at the thoughts conjured by his statement. Her pussy heated once more as Ned took her arm, and the swing of her thighs as she jogged away wet her folds.

Richie frowned as he watched them go. He felt it himself. His cock was rock-hard even though his thoughts had only brushed his desire for Heather. When it strained against the confines of his briefs, he yanked his belt. It sprang straight, the underside rubbing against the stretched cotton and pining for action.

"Fuck this shit," he muttered and started way.

The door opened behind him. "Richie, wait."

He blinked in surprise, then stared in want, then forced a frown. "Yeah, what?"

Heather lay a hand against her swelling bosom and let out a slow, husky sigh. Her nipples were sharp points against her blouse. "Please, don't go."

Richie's eyes darted over her boobs, then back to her face. "Why the hell not?"

"I need to talk to you for a minute."

Richie's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. He narrowed his eyes. "Just talk, huh?"

"Well ... maybe I ... Richie, please, just come inside and listen to me for a minute, okay?"

She's not the freaking Darkness, he thought. And you stood up to that. You can stand up to her.

"Yeah, sure, what's a little more hot air, huh?" Richie said, heading towards the door.

Diane wanted Heather. Left on her own, Diane would desire no one but Heather. She ached for Heather to be here now on the sofa with her, either touching her or being touched by her.

Instead, Heather was making her want Melinda, at least enough to make Melinda horny and wet. Diane teased one of Melinda's breasts as Jason teased the other, until a squirming and whimpering Melinda pulled off her shirt and bra, the friction of her clothing against her hardened nipples too much for her to bear. Yet now they could tease them in the flesh, making Melinda squeal and moan.

Diane accepted it. She never resisted Heather's little mental nudges. She let her will be subsumed to her lover's, her pussy soaking through her panties from the excitement of obedience.

Diane glanced at Jason. His eyes were dark and intense, focused only on Melinda, as if no one else were in the room. Both descended upon Melinda's bosom, each taking a nipple into his or her mouth.

Melinda gasped and uttered a high-pitched little puppy whine. Her legs spread in a silent plea.

Diane's tongue swirled around Melinda's taut nipple. Her hand squeezed the soft flesh around it, and she felt Melinda tremble. She heard the soft noise of a zipper pulled down, then a sharp squeal and wet sounds from Melinda's pussy. Her hips rose against Jason's hand and jammed his fingers into her cunt.

Diane wondered if Jason ever resisted anymore. He was the one that wanted to stop the Harbingers from controlling each other. He was so anal about the Book. He never let anyone so much as see the cover let alone read its pages anymore. Diane thought he could resist if he wanted to, unless he found that he liked having Melinda too horny to say "no."

She shuddered with desire at the thought of being so helpless.

It suddenly felt so wrong to her. A Harbinger shouldn't be so submissive that she fell to the smallest mental nudge from her lover, or so excited at the idea of such submissiveness. She had surprised herself when she stood up to her mother earlier. Was Heather making her so submissive? Was she wielding control over Diane all the time? Were her feelings of love for Heather just another ...

"Uhhngg!" Melinda cried. "Ohmigod ... J-Jason, please ... I need more than your fingers ..."

Diane pulled away. Melinda's hands scrabbled at Jason's belt as he tried to undress his girlfriend. Melinda had to relent to let him pull off her jeans, then whimpered at the delay.

Jason has to be enjoying this, Diane thought. Why wouldn't he? Just like Heather enjoyed making Diane so horny she could barely think.

As if on cue, Diane shuddered with lust. She stared at Melinda's face, pining for that sweet tongue buried in her twat.

Melinda pulled her feet out of her jeans and yanked her panties down her legs. She kicked them away and went for Jason's belt again, her desperate hands interfering with his own. He finally had to push them away just to get his pants down.

Diane's pussy was too hot to be so confined. She stripped off her own clothes as Melinda fell to the carpet, pulling Jason atop her and wrapping her legs around him. Soon she was grunting "Unng! Uhng! Uhng!" as Jason pounded his cock into her.

Diane's cunt throbbed for attention. She positioned her knees on either side of Melinda's head and lowered her pussy to Melinda's face.

Richie heard the moans floating to him from the living room, his face drawing into a frown in response. Was that the idea behind this "talk," to dangle the carrot in front of his face and snatch it away from him? To drive home how much of an outsider he was and will always be? Are they trying to drive him back to the Darkness?

Bullshit, you're the only one that drove yourself to it.

Richie refused to look into the living room. He kept Heather between himself and the carnal scene, staring at her and folding his arms in silent challenge. He ignored his aching cock and his own prurient thoughts.

Heather turned towards Richie and ran her fingers through her hair, eyes flicking back and forth as she struggled for the words. "Richie, I ... I'm not sure what to say to you."

"Just don't string me along," Richie snapped. "If you don't want me to fuck you ever, just say it and get it the hell over with."

Richie braced himself. He tried -- and failed -- to convince himself that it would not matter to him. Yet when Heather did not reply, he scrutinized her face for some clue. He saw only desperation and lust.

Heather's hand fell from her hair and slid over one cheek before falling to her side. Her voice was breathy and hot. "No, it's not that. I mean ... maybe it was, before, but ..."

Richie narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

Heather smiled. "Actually, Richie ... it's just the opposite now." She stepped towards him, her hand reaching for his crotch. "I really want you now."

Richie's eyes widened and darted to her hand. He unfolded his arms, his breath passing his lips as a low sigh of surprise and anticipation. But just as her fingers brushed the denim, he tensed like a coiled spring and bolted away from her.

"Stop it," Richie growled.

Heather stood still, nonplussed.

"I don't need it that badly. I don't want you messin' with my head, and I don't want your fucking pity."

Heather lowered her hand as a ragged breath passed her parted lips. "Richie, I'm not really sure how much I'm doing to you. It's a little confusing to me. I just know that you have to--"

"I don't have to do anything!" Richie spat. "I'm in control of myself, you got that?"

"I-I think you are."

Richie stared hard at Heather. She trembled, her hips squirmed, her nipples swollen against her blouse. "Oh yeah? Why? Why aren't you doin' it to me, huh? Why aren't you making me some fucking little slave like the others?"

Heather wanted to answer, but again the words would not come to her. All her pleas for that sense of understanding of which she had such a fleeting glimpse had gone unanswered. "Look, Richie, I know you probably resent me for all this."

Richie snorted. "No shit, Sherlock."

"And I'm sorry. It's my fault, okay? I'm the one having trouble letting go of it!"

Richie did not respond. Some of the challenge in his stance faded.

"And I can't really talk, can I? Not after what I've been doing to the others. You're lucky, you know that?"

Richie frowned. "Huh?"

"You know why you did what you did. I have no freaking clue. Or maybe I do, but it's still locked in my head."

"Bullshit," Richie snapped, though the conviction was weak. "You're doing all this to protect you and give you energy for those stupid visions."

Heather shook her head. "No, it's not that simple. I wish I could explain it. I hope I can soon."

"You're not making any fucking sense."

"I know! Richie, I'm not controlling people for the sake of doing it, it's like I have to do it to get everyone together." Heather paused, eyes suddenly distant. "Yes, that's it. Getting everyone together. Oh, God, Richie, I almost have it! I almost understand it! Please, don't go, Richie. Stay and join in."

Richie let himself hear the sounds of moaning and wet flesh from the living room. He shifted his hips and felt the swollen head of his cock pull away from a sticky spot in his briefs.

"I'm not controlling you, Richie," Heather said. "I-I don't think I need to since you're already willing. I just have to give you what you want."

Richie knew what he wanted. He shouldn't want it. Maybe Cassie was right, that he wanted to retaliate, but not just for her or Nyssa. His whole life was out of control, and he had to get back at someone for that.

Before his widening eyes, Heather unbuttoned her blouse and removed it.

"I really liked some of the things you said about me." Heather's bra fell away. "Especially my hair. Guys don't realize how much we want a guy to notice that."

Richie was barely paying attention. His eyes were locked on her boobs. Those wonderful, plump, sexy tits that he always thought of first whenever he envisioned Heather naked.

Heather shuddered, moaned, and fell to her knees. "I know what you want, Richie." Her knees slid apart as she undid his belt and zipper. "It's making me so wet. I'm almost cumming just thinking about it."

Richie let out a low, excited breath as his cock was pulled out of his briefs. Heather squeezed her tits around it, swallowing up his shaft inside her soft, warm mounds.

Richie moaned and thrust his cock into her bosom. Heather's pussy throbbed in response, and she licked her lips. With a quavering moan of lust, she dropped his cock from her breasts and took him into her mouth.

"Oh man ..." Richie moaned as Heather's lips and tongue worked his cock with even more skill than his mother had. He could have stayed there all day, letting Heather remain at his feet like a slave, working his cock until he was spent, but his mind leapt at so many other possibilities.

He was in control again. And maybe this time he had a chance to avoid acting like such an asshole about it.

He squeezed Heather's shoulder. She stopped at his bidding and rose to her feet.

"Get in the living room and get the rest of your clothes off," Richie ordered.

Heather let out a sigh of deepening desire and shivered with pleasure. "Yes, Richie, of course."

Feedback

Did you like this story? Hate it? Printed it and lined the birdcage with it?

Please take a moment to send me some comments about this story. Your comments may remain anonymous if you prefer, or you can include an email address in your comments if you wish a reply.

Since this is a multi-part story, you may wait until the last chapter to send feedback about the story as a whole if you wish.