"For the last time, Melinda, I'm all right," Jason said in a tired voice as he closed his locker door. "I figured it out during second period. It was a stupid idea to begin with, and I'm sorry I ever did it."

Melinda hesitated, torn between wanting to rant and the impulse to stop someone from badmouthing her boyfriend, even if it were said boyfriend himself. "It wasn't that bad an idea. I mean, we had to find out somehow, right?"

Jason paused and sighed. "Yeah, I guess. It did tell us one thing, though. This power that Doctor Mann has is different from what we've seen before. It's almost like it's viral in nature."

"Viral? Meaning you can catch it like a cold?"

"Something like that. It's like Diane was given a concept rather than an actual command, and it sort of spilled over into me. And then I did it to you and Richie."

"We managed to shake it off after you left."

"And I got over it about halfway through class. It seems to get weaker the more people it has to go through. It explains what's happening to Heather in Ms. Hollis' class."

Melinda let out a noisy sigh and rattled the lockers as she fell against them. "And I don't think I've recovered enough to help her this time."

"I'm not sure I have either, but ..." Jason trailed off as he looked up.

"What now? Is ... oh!"

She turned her head just as Heather ran up to them, her free hand clenched into a fist as the other one held onto the handle of the bag containing the fake Book with the same tension. She stopped just a foot from Jason and jabbed a finger hard enough into his chest to make him grunt.

"Don't you ever, ever get the idea to use Diane like that again without informing her first!" Heather snarled. "I don't care what stupid reason you have for it."

Melinda rattled the lockers again as she leapt forward and shoved Heather back. "Hey, back off, bubblehead! She's not the only one that got messed with. Jason had us use the--"

"Stop it, enough already!" Jason cried, throwing up his hands. "Heather, is Diane okay?"

"She's really upset right now, Jason," Heather replied. "She figgered out during second period that she had the fake Book all along and put two and two together. Do you realize how bad she feels when she thinks she can't do anything to help the group?"

"Yes, I know, I know! I'm sorry I ever thought up this plan."

"Heather, give him a break, okay?" Melinda said. "What else were we supposed to do? The counselor was going to go after her again anyway!"

Heather slammed her fist into a nearby locker. She held it there for a few seconds before slowly unclenching it.

"All right, new rule," Jason said. "No one does anything unless they know what they're getting into."

"Oh yeah, that's great, Jason, but it still doesn't help Diane now," said Heather. "She's freaking out that Victor will take control of her and make her enslave the rest of us."

"I don't think his power works that way."

"You think?"

"Because he would have done it by now!" Melinda said, giving Heather another shove. "God! And you were telling me to grow up this morning!"

Heather's eyes blazed. She was about to let loose another retort when Richie strolled up to them. "Hey."

"What do you want?" Melinda snapped at him before she could catch herself.

"Oh, now that's no way to talk to the object of your lust, now is it?" Heather said in a sweet voice.

Richie just stared. Jason looked on in confusion. Melinda's cheeks flared red. "Heather, don't you dare--!"

Heather leaned towards Richie and stage-whispered to him, "Ask her what she did this morning in the shower when she was thinking about you."

Richie's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

Melinda was too stunned to speak. Her eyes darted between Heather and Richie, and then lingered on Jason. She cringed when Jason looked back at her.

Jason was at a loss. Was she seeking permission from him? A blessing? He felt that no matter what he said, it would come out wrong. He turned his head and found Richie looking at him now as well. That expression he understood. Richie wanted to know if this upset Jason at all before he responded.

Jason had no idea.

"Listen, I have to go," said Heather. "I want to see if I can find Ned before I head into third period hell so I can give this back to him." She lifted the bag for a second.

"Why don't you go boink him right there in the hall while you're at it," Melinda said, her voice icy. "Like you told me you want to."

"Nice try, runt, but I've already accepted this. He'll know I want to fuck him sooner or later. See ya."

As Melinda and Richie watched Heather leave, Jason took the moment to extricate himself. He hated stranding Melinda and knew he would take flak for it later, but it was the least of multiple evils. "I have to get to class, too. I'll see you all later."

Melinda was shaken out of her shock only after he dashed down the hall. "No, Jason, wait!"

"Talk to you later, Melinda, I'm sorry," Jason called back.

Melinda gave his retreating back a stricken look, then stamped one foot and folded her arms. She regretted it immediately. The movement of her leg reminded her how much her pussy ached, and her arms squeezed her stiffening nipples against her bra.

Richie sidled up to her. "So what were you doin' in the shower this morning?" he drawled with a smirk.

Melinda's head jerked towards him. "Nothing you'll ever see," she snapped, but her voice quavered and robbed it of its hostility. "And don't you dare touch me, or I swear I'll scream, I don't care how I feel."

"So how do you feel?"

Melinda didn't reply. She squeezed her arms around herself despite how it plumped her breasts. Richie's gaze flicked over them, making Melinda tremble. "Stop it."

"Hey, you're the one bustin' out all over. Fuck, you musta gone up, what, a full cup since the summer?"

Melinda hesitated, then said in a low voice, "Two."

"Really? Wow."

Her arms loosened. "They're not that big."

Richie shrugged. "Don't have to be huge to look nice."

Melinda huffed, but it was weak. "Yeah, and I'll bet you'd like to see them, huh?"

Richie smirked. "I kinda have already, ya know?"

"But you want a closer look."

"You offerin'?"

Melinda opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out.

Richie glanced at the emptying hallway. "Listen, I gotta go. Catch ya later."

He started away. Melinda looked nonplussed for a moment, then frowned and called out, "What, that's it?"

Richie spun around. "What? Whatcha expect from me, huh? If you ain't offerin', I ain't just gonna take it. I don't work that way no more."

Melinda stared. Her gaze slid downward, towards the distinct bulge in the crotch of his jeans. She swallowed and shuddered.

Richie shook his head and turned away. Melinda had to resist the urge to run after him.

The forced awareness of her pace meant Gina could hear her own footsteps against the floor tiles of the hallway despite the general din of rattling lockers and avid conversation. She became more conscious of the looks she received from some of the boys, many of whom had never given her a second look.

She glanced down at her legs, slim and lanky atop high heels. Her skirt swished around her thighs, the material sliding across her skin in a light caress. On each fourth or fifth step, her foot wobbled, breaking the smoothness of her otherwise sexy stride. It did nothing to stop the looks.

She drew in a deep breath. Her chest swelled against her blouse and tugged at the buttons that were already stretched across her pushed-up bosom. She released it as a husky sigh, heat suffusing her nether regions as she considered what the boys were thinking of her.

As she turned a corner and headed towards Terri Hollis' class, a boy gave her a look of undisguised lust. It triggered Victor's teaching to her that morning. Gina smiled at him, her nipples hardening against the bra and her pussy tingling. Her smile faded as she went past, but the arousal did not, her body now primed for sex.

"That's what this outfit does, Gina," Victor had told her that morning. "It is a means of constant presentation, as good as nudity in a place where such may not be considered appropriate."

More boys paused to stare at her and whisper explicit comments to each other. She occasionally overheard one as she passed, and her pussy became warm and moist in response.

"Presenting should be pleasant," Victor had told her. "Presenting should be arousing. It should come naturally to you, something you don't even need to think about."

At first, she had trouble reaching that point. Her steps had remained measured. Some of the nagging doubts had returned to her overnight despite dreams so erotic that they had left her throbbing in orgasm as she awoke. The clothing was alien to her at first, as if a stranger were looking back at her in the mirror.

She improved upon arriving at the school. The constant scrutiny warmed her pussy and chased away her misgivings as she craved more of the soft, wet pleasure. Walking became a joy as her body moved in ways to which she had never given thought, such as the sway of her hips or the jiggle of her breasts. Once she had become used to walking in heels, the picture would be complete and perfect.

"It is a total experience, Gina," Victor had said. "Not just a duty. It will become you, as it had your mother."

Gina turned into the doorway to Ms. Hollis' class. Her shoes sounded louder in there, drawing more attention to herself and sending a tiny shiver through her body. She stepped up to the teacher's desk. Her own instructor's gaze appeared to slide down her body and back, lingering on her breasts before returning to her eyes. "Yes?"

"I would like to be moved to a seat closer to the rear, please," said Gina.

Ms. Hollis propped her head up with her arm, fingers perched along the side of her head. "Hmm. Really, now?"

"Yes, ma'am, if it's not too much trouble."

"And is there any logical reason for this?"

"Victor believes it would be better for me," said Gina. She added in a softer voice, "So the others can see me better."

Ms. Hollis paused, as if considering denying the request. She let out a small, tired sigh. "Very well." She called out the name of another student. A boy about two thirds of the way towards the back lifted his head. "You are changing seats with Miss Caligano."

The boy gave the teacher a confused look, but shrugged and picked up his belongings. Ms. Hollis turned to Gina and gestured to the vacating seat.

"Thank you, Ms. Hollis," said Gina. She started down the aisle as soon as the boy had settled into Gina's old seat, and not without a lingering look at Gina.

Gina slipped into her new seat, stowing her book-bag between her feet, forcing her to part her thighs. She pulled on the skirt, bunching it further up her thighs and allowing a glimpse of her bright pink panties. She slid her hips forward until the panties tugged into her mound, presenting her labia in relief against the stretchy fabric. One boy had noticed already and now outright gawked at her.

Gina shivered, and her sex seemed to swell further against the panties in her rising excitement.

Cassie surveyed her surroundings with a wary eye as she exchanged her books at the locker. She had thought to double-up before first period so she could avoid going to her locker now. But she felt a need to be here and confront her fear of a dead girl.

She almost greeted Ned with disappointment when he arrived first. She shook her head in response to his inquisitive look. "She didn't show up this time," Cassie said. "The one time that maybe I wanted her to show up and--"

She stopped as Ned counted off on his fingers and mumbled to himself. "Today's Saturday in 1984, so no wonder she's not here."

"I don't know what to think about that."

"Mebbe it means yer right about it not being a ghost. I mean, would a spook really care what day of the week it was?" Ned had no idea if his statement was correct. He was more concerned with assuaging her fears.

"Stephanie believes its the year 1984, so I think she would care about it. But I'm not going to get upset over it. It doesn't tell me anything either way."

Ned rubbed the back of his neck. "I gotta admit, I kinda draw the line myself at dead spooks. I'd sooner believe someone's time machine's gone on the fritz."

Cassie smiled and draped her hand over his arm. "I doubt it's that, but thank you. I'm trying to remain calm until we can sort this out. I need to know more about this girl, but I don't want to burden Jason any more than he already is."

"Who says we gotta? He ain't the only one that knows something about computers."

"Oh, I didn't mean that, Ned, but it's bad enough we have one ha ... um ... what he does ... in the group."

Ned grinned. "Not if ya call Google a hacking tool. I jus' wanna see what I can dig up about this girl. Uh, no pun intended."

"I have the same question I did before: what if you find a grave at the end of that search?"

"Well ... uh ... we visit it, I guess."

Cassie's clutched her books to her bosom. "What?"

"Why not? You don't hafta go if it gives ya the willies, but--"

"No, I mean why do it? What do you think it will tell you?"

"I was kinda thinkin' mebbe Richie might wanna come along. You know, jus' in case he, well, senses something."

"You want him to look into the body?" she said in a shocked whisper.

Ned sighed. "Babe, look, I wanna know 'bout anything connected to this Mann dude. Ya said yerself ya think it was him in the dream with Stephanie."

"But if it was the same person, and she's dead, what could he possibly have to do with it? That was twenty-one years ago. Jason said he was thirty-two. That would make him only eleven back then."

Ned tapped his nose. "With a schnozz like this, if it leads me, I gotta follow. And the Nose says we gotta look inta this. Now, I'm gonna skip out on lunch and go down ta the PCs in the school library and do some surfin'. If I finish in time, I'll come ta the lunchroom and fill ya all in."

Cassie didn't like this. Even if it had nothing to do with Victor, Jason had said that Stephanie had died in a horrible fire. She did not want to subject Richie to the psychic memories of the terrible throes of burning death.

"All right, Ned, but two things," Cassie said. "First, you make sure that Richie knows what you want him to do and he's okay with it. Second, I'm coming along no matter what."

Ned nodded. "Done and done."

Cassie sighed. "This is too much like a real Halloween scare for my tastes. I keep hoping we'll find a way to get Heather out of her punishment with Ms. Hollis just so we don't have to go to this silly party."

"I hear ya, babe, I was never much fer the party scene myself." He peered past Cassie. "Speakin' of the devilette herself ..."

Cassie turned as Heather rushed up to them.

"Whassup, Heather?" Ned drawled. "Oh, ya didn't hafta bring back the fake Book now, I coulda--"

"I wanted to talk to you for a moment, Ned," Heather said. Her eyes darted to Cassie. "Alone."

"I have to get to class now anyway," Cassie said. "Not to be a pest, but you two should also, if you don't want Seeger coming after you."

"This won't take long."

"I'll seeya later, babe," Ned said.

Cassie nodded and headed away.

Ned's gaze lingered on his girlfriend for a few seconds before turning back to Heather. He recoiled when she was suddenly close enough to feel her breath on his face.

"Uh ... what can I does ya fer?" Ned said.

Heather smiled. "It's more what I can do for you."

"Huh. Not sure I like the tone of yer voice."

Heather looked surprised. "I thought I was being sultry."

"Ah, that's what I mean."

Heather giggled. "I think I know what Cassie means about your sense of humor now."

"Yeah, and about Cassie, I--"

Heather drew closer, forcing Ned back towards the lockers. "Stop worrying about her, Ned." She lay a hand on his side. "She joined in last time, remember? So did you." She smiled, her voice turning husky. "You both accepted it."

Ned cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, so why the seduction act now?"

Heather slid her hand down and over his hip. "You never got a chance to do it with me, did you?"

Ned tried to take another step back but found that his legs did not want to move, nor did other parts stirring in his nether regions. "Wait, yer not just gettin' inta my head and--"

Heather's gaze flicked down. "I don't think I really need to."

"That's jus' kinda automatic, jus' like--"

"Ned, stop it."

Ned fell silent.

"We have to do this. We have to keep this going. I'm not the only one getting urges, Ned. Even Cassie will."

Ned frowned. "Yeah, I know."

Heather leaned closer and pressed her body to his. The breath he had held blew out as a ragged sigh. The soft warmth of her breasts spread across his chest, and her crotch brushed against his. "Soon as Jason gets us a place, I want to fuck you."

Ned swallowed. His cock strained against his briefs.

"We can do it any way you want. But we have to do it. It's going to keep happening to all of us, Ned. I decided to stop denying it."

Ned's cock was so hard that it ached. His mouth opened to voice his final defeat and acceptance of her sexual overture.

"Miss Sovert!"

Heather sprang backwards. Ned looked up at the source of the voice and rubbed his eye. "Thanks fer takin' a shot at it, Heather, but Cassie couldn't find the sty in there neither. I know ya looked real hard for it by standin' so close to me that someone might get the wrong idea, but--"

"No, Mr. Lussander," said Seeger.

Ned lowered his hand and smiled. "Can't blame me fer tryin'."

"Yes, I most certainly can, but it would be wasted effort. Get to class."

"Ah, okay. Oh, but what about--"

"Get. To. Class."

Ned saluted and started running backwards. "Getting! To! Class! Sir!"

Heather covered her eyes with her hand, but guessed that Ned had tried to redirect Seeger's scrutiny to himself. Her lips curled into a small smile before she turned to face Seeger. She looked up into his glowering face with what she hoped was a properly meek expression despite her lingering arousal. "I'm sorry, Mr. Seeger."

Seeger raised an eyebrow. "Sorry for what, Miss Sovert?"

"For coming on to him in the hallway."

The other eyebrow went up. "You're actually admitting it?"

"Well, you saw it yourself, didn't you? It would be stupid of me to deny it."

Seeger appeared at a loss. He glanced at the clock, where it had just passed the top of the hour and the start of the third period. He eyed Heather, gaze flicking down for a second. "Miss Sovert, this will seem like an odd question," he began in a voice so absent of anger that Heather looked surprised. "But did you feel you were ... influenced into doing what you just did?"

Surprise turned to shock. "Did you say influenced, Mr. Seeger?"

Seeger frowned. "Yes, it was a stupid question, ignore it." He shuffled his feet. "In the future, Miss Sovert, please have a little decorum and let such matters wait until you are well off the school grounds. Good day."

Seeger turned on his heel and marched away, leaving a stunned Heather in his wake.

Brad glanced at Heather's empty seat as he turned down the aisle towards his own. He wondered how late she was going to arrive this time.

He told himself that he didn't care. Heather still didn't want him, and he had a date for the party: a girl that he didn't even have to sweet-talk into letting him into her panties.

Brad snorted as he plopped his books down next to his desk and frowned when he found he was still staring at Heather's chair. Even the prospect of an easy lay didn't change the feeling that nothing had approached normal in Melissa's wake. The semester still felt like some bizarre retelling of a Twilight Zone episode.

He forced his gaze from the empty chair and glanced towards the back as he sat down, only to abort in mid-descent and scramble to his feet again as his eyes fell on Gina.

Holy shit.

Gina noticed his gaze. She smiled. Her legs parted a bit more, stretching the skirt and pushing it further up her thighs.

Brad blinked. He turned his head towards the front of the room, glancing at the uninterested Ms. Hollis and biting his lower lip. Finally he rushed over to Gina. One corner of his mouth quivered as he smiled. "Um, hi."

"Hello, Brad," Gina said.

Brad's mouth opened, but the words seemed stuck in his head. His eyes flitted from the raised bumps of her nipples to the cleft between her breasts. "You're, uh, really lookin' ... um ... well, I never seen you in something like that."

"I hope you like it."

Brad's lips curled into a spontaneous smile. "Like it? Shit, yeah, it looks great. I mean, the, uh, dress and, you know ..." He waved vaguely at her.

Gina paused, her eyes betraying both excitement and caution. "Do you still want to have sex with me, Brad?"

Brad's eyes widened. Damn, how can she just come out and say things like that?

"I'm doing this right, aren't I?" she asked when he did not reply right away.

"Huh? Doing--?"

"Should I be showing my panties more? Or maybe open another button up here?" Gina's hand fluttered to the top of her bosom.

Brad swallowed. "Uh ..."

"I'm sorry, Victor didn't give me a lot of details. He said a lot of it would just come to me."

Brad furrowed his brow as her words registered through the hormonal haze. "Wait, what? Victor? Who's he?"

Gina's hand froze, then lowered. She had the feeling she had just done something wrong. What was it she had just said?

Brad frowned. "Is there some other guy? Someone that told you to--"

"No other guy," Gina said. She smiled again, her eyes glittering once more with lust. "I'm going to the party with you. Just you."

Brad nodded. "Yeah, of course you are."

"And you can take me for sex if you want."

Brad paused, a weak thought of warning still sounding in the back of his mind. A smile spread across his face.

Gina shivered. A small wet stain glistened on her panties. "Anything you want. And ... I'll probably wear something like this. Only ... only ..."

"More slutty," Brad breathed. His cock ached and strained. "A lot more slutty."

Like Stephanie, Gina thought suddenly. She shuddered. Her pussy ached. "Yes. S-slutty."

"That's quite enough," Ms. Hollis' voice rang out.

Brad leapt back and whipped his gaze to the front. He let out a short, relieved breath when he saw that Ms. Hollis was not addressing anyone in particular.

"I'd like to break up this little social club and actually get some work done," Ms. Hollis concluded.

"I gotta get back to my seat," Brad said. "Later."

Gina nodded and gave him a desirous look as he retreated.

Please fuck me like you did in the office.

Gina's lips parted, as if intending to give voice to the words that had suddenly blazed through the pall of her troubled lust. Instead, she let out a ragged, husky sigh and reached down to extract her notebook from her book-bag.

Heather was panting from exertion as she raced towards her class. She nearly crashed into the door as it started to close, leaving her with one foot across the threshold. She pushed against the door when it did not stop.

Ms. Hollis did not relent for another few seconds as if contemplating leaving Heather outside. Heather would have preferred as such, but by the time she thought to back up into the hall, Ms. Hollis yanked open the door.

"So nice of you to grace us with your presence, Miss Sovert," said Ms. Hollis with a cold smile.

"I-I'm sorry, but I got stopped in the hall by--"

"I don't want to hear your excuse." One corner of her mouth rose. "I am not happy with your performance lately. On several levels."

Heather could only stare at her teacher. Her pussy still felt warm. Was that from Ms. Hollis, or was it left over from her encounter with Ned?

She could still sense the link to the others. If she concentrated, she could pick out the individual presences like strands of a rope. But it was an overused rope, the end frayed, and she would have trouble holding onto it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Hollis," Heather said.

"You'll have to do better than that. But for now ..." Ms. Hollis stepped aside and jabbed her finger towards Heather's seat. A wicked smile played across her lips. "Sit down."

Heather slipped past her teacher, trying not to look at the other students. Not that they would notice anything that Ms. Hollis did not want them to notice. She understood the same thing that Jason had, that this was the power to alter her perceptions. Her concept of reality was tweaked such that her mind was obliged to follow.

She hoped understanding it would help her combat it without having to call on the others.

Heather reached her seat as Ms. Hollis stepped before the class. "Now let's not dawdle any further, though for some of you I wonder if all the time in the world would be enough to improve your abysmal performance in this class."

Heather dropped her book-bag to the side of her desk and was about to fall into her seat when she stumbled back and stared at her chair.

"Is there a problem, Miss Sovert?" Ms. Hollis said with a dramatic sigh. "Perhaps the chair is not the right color for what I am sure is your impeccable teenage fashion sense?"

Several snickers rolled through the ranks of students. Brad frowned and tilted in his chair.

Heather looked up. "But ... it's just that ..."

Ms. Hollis' eyes glittered. "Yes?"

Heather looked back at the chair. Brad leaned over and looked as well, befuddled when nothing but bare polished wood met his eyes.

Heather saw something else. Pointing up from the middle of her seat was a large dildo sculpted to appear like a huge cock, mounted to the chair by a set of straps and suction cups. It glistened with a liberal coating of lubricant. The base of the dildo expanded into a set of thick balls.

Ms. Hollis spoke again.

The class heard: "Stop wasting our time and sit down, Miss Sovert, and pay attention to the lesson."

Heather heard: "Wrap your nice wet twat around that, Heather, and accept your punishment."

Heather moaned and shivered. She squeezed her legs together as her pussy throbbed with her heartbeat. Of course, this was her punishment for her recent poor performance in the class. It made sense to her now. She was not sure why she had forgotten that.

Because it never happened before, was her rebellious reply on the heels of her own manipulated thought.

She could fight it herself. Her link to the others and her acceptance of what had to be done to maintain it had left her with a greater inner strength of her own.

She could not throw it off completely. The vision of the dildo remained no matter how hard she tried to believe that the chair was empty.

She slid her jeans down her legs, believing everything to be right and proper. She stripped off her panties next, pussy wet and swollen. She straddled the chair and lowered herself until the head of the dildo touched her slick labia. She bit her lip hard to suppress a moan as if to spite Ms. Hollis and let the dildo push past her entrance and slide into her cunt.

Heather gasped and gripped the sides of the desk, straining as more of the shaft disappeared inside her. She had to lean forward to accommodate it, allowing it to press hard against her clit as it slid past. She let out a sigh, both desirous and desperate, and a tremor passed through her and shook the desk.

When her backside finally touched the seat, the dildo's balls pressed against her such that closing her legs was impossible without discomfort. The dildo sat inside her like a thick pole.

Her pussy oozed and dripped. Her position made her breasts dangle, and her nipples ached when they rubbed against her bra. The lubrication on the dildo had been superfluous. She was so slick that the least movement rubbed the shaft against her clit and sent her into an uncontrolled chain reaction of moans and whimpers.

At some point, the lesson started, but she was barely aware of it. Just the presence of the thing in her pussy was too distracting, the pressure against her clit a constant gentle buzz of pleasure.

(hump it)

Heather shuddered. That would make it worse. Even if she came, the thing would still be inside her making her wet and horny.

(you're supposed to hump it)

Heather panted and closed her eyes, her hips squirming as if teasing the rest of her into following along. The compulsion to give in and let herself believe it was right and proper came over her with frightening ease. Her muscles tensed in response, ready to lift her from the seat.

But it's just me, Heather thought. Just me. That doesn't make sense. If this was a common thing, I would see ...

A sound pulled her from her rebellious thoughts, and she tried to turn her head that way without twisting herself in her seat too much.

In the row of seats in front of her and a few aisles over, another girl was bent forward in her chair, panting and squirming. As Heather watched, the girl's hips rose from the chair and descended once more.

Heather heard a soft cry on the other side of the class. She whipped her gaze around so fast that the dildo twisted in her tunnel, and she gasped from the spike of pleasure. A second girl was humping a dildo fast enough to shake her desk. The girl suddenly gasped and clenched her teeth, then let out another cry. Something splashed between her legs.

Heather shook her head. This could not be right. She didn't remember seeing any of that when she arrived. As she stared, the action seemed flat, like a TV image.

(always punished like this)

Heather squeezed her eyes shut. She refused to fall for that. It was not always like this.

Heather moaned as her clit was stroked hard. She had just humped the dildo once without realizing it. Her eyes opened and now the other girls seemed more solid and real.

(others are doing it)

Heather gripped the sides of her seat, intending to hold herself in place. Instead, her arms flexed and pushed her up, then let her down again. She whimpered at the slide of wet pleasure and need.

(hump it like the others, it's what you're supposed to do)

Heather trembled, and the muscles in her arms twitched.

(Hump like you're supposed to)

Heather let out a long, tremulous sigh. Her hips rose.

(HUMP)

Her hips descended, sending Heather into paroxysms of lust as the dildo filled her again. Without another thought, she began to hump in earnest.

Diane sat in her third period class, unable to concentrate. The teacher's words were unable to overcome the tides of her own emotional storm.

She couldn't decide with whom she was more angry, herself for being weak or the Harbingers for exploiting it. She wanted to believe that if she could calm herself long enough, she would see that the plan had made sense. Yet the twenty minutes when she believed she had come close to handing Victor the real Book had been a personal hell of self-recrimination.

Diane closed her eyes and sighed. She could sense Heather over the link. Her own feelings were in such turmoil that she had little worry about Heather's emotions overwhelming her.

Heather was not calling for any aid, but Diane felt the need to give it anyway, though after a few minutes of concentration, she had no idea if she were doing it correctly.

What good am I to the Harbingers if I can't do something simple like this?

Diane shook her head and tried to discard the thought, but it would not leave. She wondered if the Harbingers were right in using her. Even in her relationship with Heather she let Heather remain in control.

(sex slave)

Diane's eyes opened. It wasn't quite like that yet. Heather didn't go that far. Perhaps she was holding back on purpose, knowing Diane's propensities.

(complete sex slave)

Diane shook her head again, but with less conviction. The idea could still make her pussy tingle. She loved being submissive to Heather. Perhaps that was why Jason decided to use her in his scheme, because he knew she would accept it anyway even if he had been honest with her. She preferred that others tell her what to do.

Something about that did not quite make sense, but ...

(complete sex slave to the Harbingers)

Diane never wanted to carry it that far. Even though Heather made her desire sex with other girls in the group, that was not the same thing as being a slave to them. She had no desire for them outside of Heather's influence.

(and should be treated as such)

Diane squirmed as her pussy grew warm. Her hands clenched. This was not the time to indulge in any of her own fantasies. She tried to clear her mind and pushed these odd thoughts aside. She could not let her own self-esteem problems conjure up new ways to torture her fragile ego.

And yet they remained, where they continued their seductive whispers into her subconscious.

Gina tried to keep her focus on the lesson. Victor's teachings had done nothing to counter her mother's directives about doing well in her classes.

Her pussy throbbed with her heartbeat against the stretched fabric of her panties. The pink turned dark as moisture seeped into them. Several boys took furtive glances at her whenever they thought Ms. Hollis wasn't looking, and even when she did notice them, she did nothing to stop them.

Each time someone looked at her, another wave of heat washed over her. If her eyes happened to rise to meet those of the boy looking at her, he would avert his gaze, and a sense of disappointment and confusion would be left in its wake. Why were they tentative about it? Victor had told her that this was expected of her. She needed to present, and the others would enjoy it as they should.

More disturbing to her was the odd double vision she experienced now and then. It would appear at the edge of her field of view, draw her attention to it, and then disappear when she focused on it. It was centered around Heather's chair, like a double-exposure, where Heather appeared in two positions in the seat simultaneously.

Her hearing was affected as well. She would imagine hearing a moan or a whimper -- again from Heather's direction -- but no obvious source.

Gina's eyes met those of Brad, and her troubles were forgotten for the moment.

A shudder of rising desire passed through her, and she spread her legs to expose her crotch better. Her heart thumped along with the increasing ache in her cunt. Moisture oozed from the edges of her panties and glistened against the skin of her inner thighs.

Brad stared as if mesmerized. Gina's arousal grew until she writhed. Pleasure rose unbidden, as good as if her clit were teased by unseen fingers.

"Mr. Weston!"

Both Brad and Gina flinched. Brad's gaze snapped away and towards Ms. Hollis.

Gina let out a quavering sigh as her lust eased. For a moment she resented Ms. Hollis for the interruption. She might have climaxed and relieved some of the sexual tension.

"Uh, yes, Ms. Hollis?" Brad asked, the stiffness in his crotch making him shift in the seat.

Ms. Hollis' lips drew to a thin line. Her eyes flicked over to Gina for a moment. She frowned as her gaze drew back to Brad. "Please pay more attention in class," she said in a tight voice before turning away.

Brad look nonplussed, as if he were expecting a far worse reaction. Gina was surprised as well. Why had Ms. Hollis said anything at all? Gina was doing what was expected of her, and Brad was reacting as was proper.

Guilt suddenly loomed. She should not have wished for an orgasm. She could not obtain them anymore on her own. She gave Brad a forlorn look and imagined being fucked by him again.

More slutty.

Gina shivered. Her eyes darted towards a boy that had stolen another glance at her wet panties. He gave her a lascivious smile before he faced forward again.

This was proper. Victor had said so, despite Ms. Hollis' reaction.

A lot more slutty.

Gina was confused again. She had to talk to Victor. He would set it right. She trusted him to know what was good for her.

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