Penny stared at Victor, unable to move. "But ... V-Victor, I don't understand, why are you--"

Victor stood and stepped up to her. She drew in a sharp breath and let it go as a hot, quavering sigh as her body was flooded with powerful sensations of both lust and guilt. "That is not something a whore would say, is it?"

Penny trembled, and her pussy flared hot. Her guilt did not abate, even as misplaced as it seemed. She could act without shame as needed before anyone, even the reverend from the church. This should be no different.

"One more chance, Penelope," said Victor. "I am sure you would not want me to express dissatisfaction with my little slut."

Penny forced a trembling smile. "No, of course not," she said, her voice dropping to a more husky tone. Her lips curled into a sultry, playful smirk. She stepped back from him and swiveled her hips. "I got what you want. A nice wet pussy to fuck. I'll spread my thighs nice and wide for you and let you fuck my brains out. I--"

Penny stopped. Her arousal had surged, her pussy soaking her panties, leaving them glistening and musky. Her cunt ached for a nice, hard cock. Her mouth craved a dick between her lips. Yet upon the heels of each lusty thought came a deep and rising tide of shame, threatening to drown her.

"Yes, please," Victor said in a soft voice. "Do go on."

Penny wavered for a moment before she dropped to her knees and slid her hands up his legs to his hips. "Or do you want it in my mouth? Want me to suck on that luscious cock of yours? Just squirt your hot cum all over me, all over my face and tits. I'm used to it. I'm used to ... to being all hot and sticky from ... f-from ..."

Penny's shaking hands slid off his hips. Her gaze dropped. Tears blurred her vision and dripped to the floor. Her throat locked, holding back a scream until the urge passed. She whimpered and sobbed. "Y-you're doing this to me. P-please stop."

"So what are you, Penelope?" Victor asked.

Horrible, shameful pleasure rose in her pussy. Penny's hands dropped from Victor as she collapsed. She sobbed into the carpet.

"Tell me what you are," Victor repeated.

"A ... wh-whore." Penny squeaked.

"I didn't hear you."

"A whore. I'm a whore. A complete, slutty, wet little whore! Oh God, please, make it stop!" Penny screamed.

Victor remained still for a few seconds, then turned away.

Penny's sobs became moans as the shame retreated and her lust surged. "Thank you," she breathed, raising her head. She rose on her knees and began to stand up.

"Stay where you are, Penelope," Victor said without turning around.

Penny dropped back down to both knees and averted her eyes. "Victor, why did you do that to me just now?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Victor folded his hands behind his back and appeared to scrutinize a picture on the wall where a window would have been were it not for the secret passage behind it. "To remind you of your place."

Penny sighed. "I'm reminded of that every day, Victor."

Victor turned around. "Perhaps you're not paying close enough attention to it. You need to understand this: you are indeed a complete whore. It's not just an act or a metaphor."

"I was made this way," Penny said in soft defiance.

"You fell into that role quite well on your own when you first came to the Inn before the Darkness took you. Or rather, before you let it take you."

Penny's eyes burned. "Victor, please, I get enough of this from my children. They're the reason I do this."

Victor stroked his chin as he regarded her.

"It was either me or my daughters!" Penny shouted.

"And yet, it would have your daughters anyway. As I would."

Penny's lips parted, and her face paled. She shook her head, eyes wide and shimmering. "N-no ... no, you said ... you already picked--!"

Victor stepped up to her and stroked her hair. Penny trembled with the urge to recoil. The cruelty had been doubled. The Darkness had retreated from her mind just enough to allow her to think on what she was doing. "And if I decided I would take a second slave? Or change my selection? That is my prerogative. You may not be a member of my cult, Penelope, but the Inn is obligated to assist it. It was the arrangement I made with Missy."

Penny's lower lip trembled. "Please, Victor ... please ... I just want to protect my children as long as I can. Please don't take Heather! Don't let Terri take her!"

Victor's hand dropped. "Be a whore for me again, Penelope."

"What? But I can't--"

"Yes, you can. Do it."

Penny stared at him with haunted, pleading eyes, but his gaze remained hard and cool. She forced her lips to curl into a slow, trembling smile. Her hips squirmed, her panties squishing against her wet folds. She panted, her breaths squeezing her boobs against the cups of the bra, the nipples hard and aching.

"You ... you like me like this? On my knees? On all fours? I'll crawl on the ground like a dog for your cock. Just stick it in me, fuck me good and hard. I'll ..."

She trailed off. This time, the shame was her own.

Victor smiled. "See how easy it is? Just like it should be. You obey my will as you obey the Darkness' will."

"You can't take Heather!" Penny cried. "You didn't prepare her. You never even looked at her. Only Terri did anything, but she ... she doesn't--"

"What Terri is doing is no concern of mine."

Penny's mouth worked for a few seconds before any sound would emerge from between her lips. "Then ... you don't want Heather?"

"I am not going to answer that, as it should not matter. What I want is what I get, and right now my concern is for Melinda, not Heather."

Penny paled again. "She's too young."

"I do not want her in that capacity," Victor said. "But I insist on your full cooperation for what I do want of her."

"I don't understand."

"I do not intend to detail every one of my plans to you. I grow weary of explaining myself. Suffice it to say that she is needed to assist in convincing others to act in a manner more conducive to my efforts."

"The Harbingers?"

"Ah, good, you know of them."

Penny nodded. "I was told to disrupt them where I can."

"Hmm. Not doing a very good job, are you?"

"There is only so much I can do, Victor! I can't watch them every minute."

He waved a hand. "I am not the Darkness' emissary, you have no need to explain such matters to me. And I will tell you what I want exactly once. I will have Melinda taken tomorrow, Saturday, with the intent to release her Sunday morning before the need arises to follow through on an implied threat."

Penny bit her lip to suppress any audible reaction. She knew what the cult could do. She also knew that Victor disdained indiscriminate sexual contact between the cultists and underage teens until the night that one was taken as a slave.

Yet this was unprecedented. Even when faced with adversaries that threatened to reveal him, Victor never struck at their underage teenage children.

Victor gestured for her to rise. She stood as he spoke again. "I need two things from you. First, arrange whatever excuses are needed to whomever they are needed to cover her absence Saturday night. Use your Darkness-given powers if needed."

"I don't want to see Melinda hurt," Penny said. "It's one thing for her to be forced into sex with her peers, but--"

"And second, I want you to send her on an errand sometime Saturday afternoon. Alone. My cultists will take care of the rest."

Penny swallowed hard. "They won't do anything to her? Not without your word?"

"Nothing will happen to her if I get what I want," said Victor. "Perhaps you may consider impressing that upon her fellow Harbingers." He turned away and headed towards the hotel room door.

Penny whirled around. "Victor, wait!"

Victor paused and did not turn. "Yes?"

"If you're not after Heather this year, then what is Terri Hollis doing with her?"

"Perhaps you should ask her yourself."

"So she's not doing this for you?"

Victor's voice was tense. "Asked. And Answered."

He opened the door and let himself out.

Jason dodged his way through the crowded hallway after second period. He heard Melinda call out to him some distance behind him, but ducked his head and kept going. He didn't have time to be sidetracked.

He spotted Diane, who was making a beeline for her lover's locker. "Hey, Diane, wait, got a second?" Jason called out as he burst out of the crowd.

Diane flinched and sighed. "Only if this has nothing to do with the Harbingers."

"It kind of does, but it's nothing really sensitive."

"I'm not sure you should take the chance that--"

"Anyway, it's about what you had said before, about us just doing something to you if we find a way to break you free of Victor."

"Yes, and if you do have an idea, please don't tell me."

Jason shook his head, trying not to look impatient. "It's related to that, but not quite that." He stepped closer and lowered his voice. "If we found a spell that required a volunteer, someone to be the focus of the spell--"

Diane wrung her hands. "Jason, I already told you, just do it to me. The more you talk about it, the more I can spill to Victor if he--"

"But it's not just you!" Jason blurted. When Diane stared in confusion, he ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, it would be something that could help all of us, but it requires ... well ... the focus has to be enslaved to the others. Temporarily."

Diane's lips parted and her eyes widened.

"You see, I can't allow you to give carte blanche approval for something like that. You have to know what you'd be getting into."

"I'll do it."

Jason paused. "We haven't decided to do this yet, we're just thinking about it."

"I'll do it, Jason."

"Are you sure you're not just agreeing for the sake of being helpful?"

Diane let out a slow, husky sigh. A slave to the Harbingers. The thought was so easy now. Whatever doubt lingered was lost in a wave of warm pleasure. She could help without arousing Victor's suspicions.

She could finally be useful.

"I can do this, Jason," Diane said in a softer voice. "This is what I'm supposed to do."

Jason stared at her, then nodded. "All right."

Diane said nothing more. Yet the thought of her new-found purpose stirred in her mind, and Jason's thoughts stirred in sync. It made sense to him as well. Diane was perfect for this role after all. She would do well as a slave.

"Temporary," Jason finally said, his voice strained. "It would be a temporary enslavement."

Diane nodded, though there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. Jason felt the same thing, but rationalized it as a desire to hold on to their augmented powers longer. "Of course, Jason, I know," she finally said in a flat voice.

"Well, that's all I wanted to ask. Um, like I said, we haven't decided yet if--"

"You better do it now that you've told me about it," Diane said. "Otherwise, if Victor gets wind of it, he might try to stop it."

"I don't think Victor will want to use you anymore against us, not when he already failed to get the Book from us. We're one step ahead of him there."

"You don't understand, Jason, I have no idea what else I may have told him. When he puts me under, I don't remember anything. I don't even recall if I told him what you said to me when I tried to get the Book from you."

Jason looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"You remember, what you said to me about the pendant when I took the Book -- well, the fake Book -- from you."

Jason shook his head, mystified.

"It was something like the Book not doing what he wanted without the linked pendant."

"I never said that."

"Yes, you did, Jason, I heard you, and Victor probably got it out of me."

"I don't recall saying that. Are you sure?"

"Positive," Diane said. "I may be useless to the group, but I remember things I heard very well. Jason, I need to get to class. Please, just do whatever you need to do to me if it will help."

Heather avoided the teacher's gaze as she stepped inside Ms. Hollis' classroom. Her eyes darted about the room, but it appeared that Brad had not arrived yet. Her eyes instead fell upon the dark-haired girl in the back of the room.

Heather was stunned at the sight. Gina's shorts were molded to her pussy. As if responding to Heather's gaze, Gina slid her hips forward, catching the shorts on the seat and pulling it snug against her sex until the moisture began to seep through.

Shit, she's not even wearing panties, Heather thought.

"Like what you see?"

Heather spun around.

Ms. Hollis offered a sly grin and gestured for Heather to approach the desk. "You didn't answer me. Do you like what you see?"

Heather took a deep breath and cast a stony mask on her face. "I don't understand what you mean."

"Is that why you're so resistant? You like pussy more than cock?"

Other students filed into the room. Heather noted that no one batted an eye at the conversation. What were they hearing, she wondered, if anything? "No, Ms. Hollis," Heather finally answered.

"But you must enjoy pussy at least as much as cock, since you were so fascinated with Miss Caligano's twat."

Heather licked her lips. "Yeah, all right. I guess I do like them both."

"I would be happy to indulge you when you report to detention this afternoon."

"Should you be telling me this out loud, Ms. Hollis?" Heather said, raising her voice. "After all, this is kind of inappropriate, you know. Sexually propositioning me and all that."

Ms. Hollis grinned and chuckled. "Nice try, but it works for both of us. No one hears anything more than a teacher dressing down a student whose grades are slipping."

Heather glanced to the side. A student smirked at her as he passed. "Isn't it kind of hard maintaining two conversations at the same time?"

"Simpler than you think. I don't have to maintain a complete illusion, just suggest what's happening. The human mind loves to fill in the gaps."

"You don't get tired? How much do you have to concentrate to--"

"Enough," Ms. Hollis said. She pointed. "You'd best get to your seat. Class is about to start."

Heather nodded and turned away. She frowned when she saw that Brad had arrived while she was busy with the teacher. He had dumped his books at his desk, but he now sat in a vacant seat near Gina, chatting with her and ogling her with no regard to who witnessed him. Annoyance swelled into jealousy before she could quell it. When she sat down in her seat and caught some of the conversation, she realized something was wrong beyond just bad taste or her own petty emotions.

Brad would sometimes ogle a girl from a distance, or wink at her, or make passing risque comments. He would chat with her for a bit before class, or in the hall. But he would never fawn over her, or converse like a john to a hooker. He displayed the same level of obsession as he had towards Heather while under Melissa's control.

Heather turned to face forward in her seat as the bell rang, and Ms. Hollis called the class to order. Behind her, she heard Brad scramble back to his seat. Ms. Hollis waited for him without a word of admonishment.

"All right, settle down," Ms. Hollis said. She opened her satchel and withdrew a sheaf of papers. "No talking during the test or you get an instant zero."

Heather whispered a curse under her breath. Ms. Hollis had made her miss so much of the normal lesson that she had had no forewarning of this test, let alone know enough of the material to pass it.

Ms. Hollis walked the aisles, distributing test papers. Heather sat up as Ms. Hollis approached. She heard her thumb a set of test papers from the pile and place it on the desk of the student behind her. Ms. Hollis stepped forward and stood alongside Heather's desk.

Heather glanced towards her teacher's hands. Instead of taking another test from the top, Ms. Hollis slid her hand under the sheaf and extracted the pages from there.

Ms. Hollis bent over to place the test face-down on Heather's desk. "You get a special test, Miss Sovert," Ms. Hollis said in a silky voice near Heather's ear. "I expect you to score quite well on this one. In fact, you need to. Your whole semester's grade will be based on it."

Seeger stopped short of the Principal's office and frowned.

He hated coming to Laura's office anymore, but now he understood why. Laura did not vex him as much as her receptionist Marcie Fuller. Her bright and bubbly eagerness would not be unwanted except that it never stopped, as if she were capable of no other emotion. She occasionally squirmed in her seat as if she could not get comfortable, but the look on her face was quite the opposite.

So opposite, in fact, as to be disturbing. He feared that if he let his mind wander too far, he would conjure equally disturbing reasons behind it.

Seeger finally sighed and advanced. "Good morning, Mr. Seeger!" Marcie sang in that breathy voice that Seeger felt was more appropriate passing from the lips of a porn actress rather than a high school receptionist. "Ms. Bendon is waiting for you in her office."

Seeger marched past her and let himself inside. Laura looked up, smiled, and gestured to the seat before her desk.

"If this is brief, I would rather stand," Seeger said. "I have a lot to do today."

Seeger hated lying, but he loathed the idea of admitting that he felt too uncomfortable in her presence to let his guard down.

"It is brief, actually," said Laura. "I understand that you have Richard Gardner helping with Halloween party preparations?"

"Is there a problem?"

"We already have a student assisting. Heather Sovert. It is her punishment, so I think it best she have the sole responsibility."

"It is a punishment for Mr. Gardner as well," Seeger blurted.

Laura paused. "Is it? I saw no note of that on your detention reports."

"It is sort of a punishment. Mr. Gardner admitted to conspiring to start a snowball fight in the bus lot."

"And you assigned him this task as punishment?"

"Not quite. He volunteered."

"So it is not punishment."

Seeger frowned. "If you wish to argue petty semantics, no, it is not."

Laura offered an ingratiating smile. "You are the one who is meticulous with words, Seymour. And I would hardly think it petty. Something is either a punishment or it is not. It is discipline or it is not." She folded her hands. "Please, tell Mr. Gardner that his services, while appreciated, will not be needed Monday."

Seeger's jaw tightened. His hands clenched into fists.

Laura raised a single eyebrow. "Problem, Seymour?"

Seeger forced his hands to unclench. He let out a long sigh through his nose and ground his teeth before willing them to stop. He forced the words to his mouth. "No problem at all, Laura. Speaking of detention, I would like to make a request concerning Miss Sovert's. I would like to sit in on part of it."

Laura shook her head. "I'm afraid that is out of the question."

"May I ask why?"

"Considering the sensitive nature of her indiscretions, it might make her feel intimidated or generate undue shame if you were there. Not for your title but the fact that you're male."

"I see."

"I'm sure you'll understand once you stop to think about it. Please do not concern yourself with it, we have it under control."

Seeger's eyebrows rose. "We?"

"Yes, I'm supervising Terri. I feel having me there represents a strong authority figure but of her own gender and thus more understanding of the situation. So if you have any lingering doubts about Terri, I will be there to insure she does right by Miss Sovert."

Seeger's hands clenched again, and this time he could not get them to release. "Very well. If that is all?"

"Unless you have any more questions yourself."

Seeger had a lot of questions. Why was Laura turning Haven High into her personal kingdom? Why was she so secretive about the Halloween party? What was this fascination with Heather Sovert? And what the hell was up with Marcie Fuller?

Seeger shook his head.

Laura stood and came around the side of the desk. "Have you come to any decision about that retirement offer?"

Seeger studied her face. He saw a mask of concern and sympathy. But that was all, only a mask. He had seen the same look on too many students to not recognize it for what it was. "Not yet."

"Frankly, I don't see why you keep troubling yourself, Seymour, when you can leave right this minute -- literally this minute -- and settle into a comfortable and well-deserved retirement."

Seeger folded his hands behind his back. "Why, Laura, you make it sound as if I were somehow useless around here," he said, forcing a smile.

"Not at all, but to be honest, we can muddle along without you for a bit. No reflection whatsoever on your excellent service to--"

"If that is quite all, I will be going," said Seeger, turning away.

"Yes, that is all," said Laura tonelessly, though Seeger's stride had already taken him past the threshold.

Seeger marched past Marcie and through the administrative area, ignoring all else until he entered his office. He closed the door and fell into his chair. He slapped his hands on the top of the desk before folding them before him.

He considered his options. Confronting Laura and bringing his suspicious and accusations to bear was one. Yet it would leave him sounding like a raving lunatic when he attempted to justify his anxieties via vague snippets of overheard conversations and the lurid claims of Richie Gardner.

Another was contacting the school board and registering a complaint about Laura through its more discreet channels. Maybe, if he were lucky, they would get back to him by spring.

Or he could retire and forget about it all.

His eyes settled on a faded, gold-framed picture of a woman with a face that would be pretty if the expression were not so severe. He could not talk to his wife about these things. She no longer wanted to hear about the school. If she knew Laura had offered him early retirement, she would be badgering him to accept it as well.

He would love nothing more than to leave these matters to others. Yet there were no others, and he finally understood why he felt as if he were some sort of final bulwark. The question had come to him that he realized he should have asked long before this moment: where were the parents?

Each time any inappropriate sexual conduct was discovered among the students, the chain of events had been the same. Phone calls were made. Parents reacted with the proper shock. Promises were uttered to keep their children in line. Then, nothing. No one raised a further fuss. No one called for reform. No one complained to the school board.

Which meant that the parents didn't care.

Or the parents were made not to care.

Seeger shook his head and allowed himself the rare, muttered curse.

Heather wanted to rage at the unfairness of basing her whole grade on one test. Doing well in school had never been a top priority for her, but neither did she let her grades slide below a "C." She assumed this semester would be a disaster, her expectations not surpassing a "D" in at least two classes, and she was sure she was close to failing Ms. Hollis' class now.

Heather spread her fingers over the back of the stapled sheets, waiting with the rest of the class for permission to begin. So was that the plan? Base her whole grade on this test, screw with her head so she messed it up, and provide the perfect excuse for ongoing detention with Ms. Hollis?

She had to do well on this test. She couldn't give into whatever Ms. Hollis might throw at her. She could sense the link with the other Harbingers, but she wanted to hold their power in reserve for that afternoon.

Her fingers curled into a fist. She thought Jason and Cassie were being ridiculous. Why shouldn't they use everything they had in their fight? Maybe she could get Ned on her side. He was always so gung-ho for action. Perhaps she could play Ned against Cassie and force her to acquiesce or risk a row with her boyfriend. Maybe even sic Richie on Jason and--

Heather shook her head and covered her face with her hands. That was the old Heather, the one that manipulated others and pitted them against each other so she and Diane could watch with glee.

She sighed. She had to focus. The test was all that mattered. Her whole grade was riding on it. She couldn't afford to do anything less than perfect. Pulling a "C" was not good enough. She had to ace it. She had to do so well that there was no question in anyone's mind that she would pull a good grade.

Ms. Hollis returned to the front of the class. Her gaze lingered in Heather's direction for a moment, a faint but wicked smile on her lips. "All right, class. Begin."

Heather flipped the test over and her shoulders slumped at all the blank space on the page. She loathed essay questions.

Words in large, boldface font at the top of the page proclaimed: Read ALL instructions carefully before starting the first test question. Failure to do so may result in an immediate failing grade for this test.

Heather frowned. How the hell would Ms. Hollis know if she had read it? But if she wanted to do well, it was best to do everything by the numbers.

She read on: It is very important that you do well on this test. Well, she knew that. What's more, she believed it. And to do well, you must answer these questions as completely and thoroughly as possible. Short answers are unacceptable.

Heather nodded. That made sense. Long, detailed answers were the norm for a good grade.

You will do well if you include as much detail as you can remember. This will form a vital part of the grade on your answer.

Heather nodded again, tapping her pen against the desk. She would mind-dump on each question. Any detail, no matter how trivial, would be written down.

And above all else, be absolutely truthful. This is most important.

Heather paused. Truthful? That was a strange word to use. It went without saying, really. Of course she would be truthful. She advanced to the first question.

Question 1: Think about a time you had sexual intercourse with a boy within the last few days. Describe what it was like and why it was so enjoyable.

Heather had to read the question a second and then a third time to believe she had seen it. She looked up, but Ms. Hollis was not even paying attention, her head bent down over her paperwork.

Heather returned her gaze to the test. She had to answer it, and answer it well. She had to ace it. She ...

She shook her head. She couldn't ... but she had to ... too much intimate information ... but it was important that she ...

She closed her eyes. No, Ms. Hollis made me think it was important. She made me want to do well.

She opened her eyes and stared at the question again, the hand holding the pen twitching as if wanting to get to work. Her own thoughts rung hollow. Heather's feelings were too tied up in her own legitimate concern over failing the course. Sorting out her own thoughts from Ms. Hollis' forced perception was impossible.

Heather brought her pen to the page and started to write.

A few days ago I had a really good fuck by Jason Conner.

Heather blushed for the first time in what seemed like an age. She considered crossing out Jason's name, but it was an important detail. All answers had to include as much detail as possible.

Heather propped up her head with her free hand. She started to write again. He was on top. I like it that way with him. I'm normally on top because

Heather's fingers curled into her hair. Her blush deepened. Her writing hand quivered, then started across the page again.

I like to be in control, but with Jason I just want him to fuck my brains out. I could let him pound into me forever.

Heather's hand slipped over her eyes. Somehow this was more embarrassing than being forced to masturbate in the middle of class. She couldn't reveal such things to Ms. Hollis, of all people!

Or worse, if it got back to the Harbingers, Richie would never let her live it down, Melinda would scream bloody murder about stolen boyfriends again, and Diane would think Heather wasn't interested in a lesbian lover.

In the back of her mind, she knew Ms. Hollis had tricked her way into Heather's head, but she could not shake the perception that doing well on this test was of paramount importance. Reaching out over the link to the other Harbingers would defeat the purpose of getting a good grade.

She continued writing.

He's got a great cock. I so envy my little sister. She gets to play with that cock whenever she wants, the little snot. His cock is longer than I thought it would be. He's such a geek that I thought it would be this little thing, but it's better than even Brad's. I get that cock inside me whenever I can.

Heather put down the pen, her hand trembling, and let out a husky sigh. Her pussy was hot and wet again, and she could not blame Ms. Hollis for that.

Gina's pussy swam in warmth as her pen moved across the test page, traversing the questions with little hesitation. Nothing had stopped her from remaining the model student. She got her homework done every night and kept up with the course work. Even as her thoughts about Brad kept her horny, she could still concentrate on the test.

Ms. Hollis' tests were not very challenging; multiple choice questions requiring no more than a rote recital of the course work. Gina might have been disappointed if it were not for the pleasant wetness of her pussy.

She swung her legs open, stretching the fabric of the hot pants across her sex and drawing more wonderful, tight pressure against her folds. A slow, sultry sigh passed her lips at the thought of the others watching her, now that she was ...

(more slutty)

... presenting more properly.

Brad had made it clear that he no longer wanted to wait until the night of the party to fuck. He had told her that his parents would be out of the house most of Saturday. They would have the place to themselves. Gina could properly offer herself, and he could ...

(don't have to)

... finally fuck her again and ...

(don't have to offer to anyone)

Gina stopped writing and looked up, turning her head as if she thought that someone had whispered into her ear. She shook her head and cast a forlorn look towards Brad. Her pussy tingled. She could almost feel his cock inside her again.

(don't have to offer)

Gina put the pen down and rubbed her temples. She closed her eyes, but only for a second when the imagery of her strange dream from the night before loomed from the recesses of her mind. The girl she had seen in her dream was a blur. Gina may have recognized her, but now she could not recall.

I want to offer myself to Brad, Gina thought. I would offer myself to others, but Victor wants me to concentrate on Brad.

(don't have to)

I want to do it. I want to offer myself. I want him to fuck me.

(don't)

Gina slid forward in her seat and uttered a soft moan as the material stretched again over her mound. She had to focus on the pleasure. Presenting made her horny and ready for sex. She had to always be ready for sex. Then Victor would finally want to fuck her again.

Gina blinked. No, that wasn't right. It would be the first time with him. He had refused her offer. She wasn't ready for him.

Gina let out a slow sigh. The voice was gone. She wished it would stay away so she wouldn't have to ask any of these nagging little questions anymore.

She picked up her pen and returned to her test, the light pleasure in her sex hovering in the back of her mind like a pink mist.

Question 2, Heather read with increasing trepidation. Identify a sexual act or situation that makes you intensely aroused to the point of distraction or extreme need, and describe exactly how it affects you.

Heather groaned. She started to write.

My biggest weakness is feeling someone's tongue on me.

Heather's hand stopped and shook, etching a squiggly mark on the page at the end of the sentence. No. Resistance was interfering with her doing well on this test.

That's why I love it when someone licks my pussy. Especially if it's slow, like teasing at first. That just drives me nuts.

Heather trembled with growing lust that was all her own, unrequited desire from the day before. She had almost hated Melinda for interrupting her and Diane. Would it have hurt Melinda to indulge in Diane's fantasy for just a little while?

She wanted to write more. The question needed more detail. This would not pass muster for a top score.

My boobs, too. I love having my nipples licked. Melinda can do that pretty good when she wants to. Jason, too, more so. Again, Melinda is so fucking lucky.

Heather forced herself to put the pen down. She couldn't keep doing this. She sounded like she was jealous of Melinda, or that she did covet Jason for herself.

She looked down at the test page. Her eyes darted across the words and wanted to see more. She wasn't finished yet. She picked up the pen. But how much did she really need this good grade?

She started writing again, hesitant at first, then more steady. But what would really drive me insane would be someone nibbling on my nipples. Heather paused, her cheeks hot, her pussy hotter. I don't have partners do it because I don't trust they'll be gentle enough. Jason did it sort of accidentally once while he was lightly frigging me, and it was INTENSE. If it had been someone with a tongue in my pussy instead, I would've passed out from the pleasure.

Heather shivered. Her thighs were spread as far as Gina's. She needed a fuck. She should have sought out Ned the afternoon before. Her hand began to write almost of its own accord.

I hope Ned wants to lick my pussy when I get to do him. Cassie thinks he's real good at it. Then Melinda and Diane at my nipples. Then Jason kissing me so I can feel his tongue in my mouth.

"Stop, stop, stop," Heather whispered to herself. She couldn't let any of that stand. She looked over her answer. Every part of it was important. It all had to stay.

"This is SO unfair," she muttered as her eyes lowered to the next question.

Victor pulled out his cell phone as he waited for a light to change. He flipped it open and thumbed his speed dial before holding it to his ear. "This is Victor. Connect me with Charles." A pause. "I don't particularly care where he is, you will get him at once."

He waited, fingers tapping the steering wheel. He realized what he was doing and stopped. Losing either composure or patience was for the weak. He had faced worse problems when he had first embarked on this work.

"Victor, I'm sorry, I was in the middle of an important business conference call," said Charles' voice over the phone. "I really wish you wouldn't--"

"How is Lydia doing?" asked Victor as the light changed. He completed his turn with one hand on the wheel.

Charles sighed. "Victor, my servants would have contacted me at once if anything had changed."

"You mean they would have been stopped by your assistant and told you would get back to them. Check with them now."

"Yes, fine, just a moment."

Victor maneuvered the car through lingering morning traffic. He was back on an even keel again as he understood the source of his irritation to be his need to talk to Penelope Sovert. He should not have had to do it at all. Things should simply happen as he willed them to happen.

He needed to move past it. The playing field was different this year, and he had to accept it. He understood his mistake, and he would not repeat it.

"Lydia is fine," Charles said in a tired voice. "She's been quiet all morning."

"Still 'unusually' quiet?"

"I suppose you could say that, yes. I was not going to mention it lest I be accused of latent superstitious tendencies again."

Victor smiled. "I wish to offer you an apology. I know you were only speaking your mind, something I encourage in my closest advisers."

"That's not to say that I have stopped thinking that there might be something more happening this year," said Charles. "You may cite whatever non-superstitious explanation pleases you, but it will not change what I feel."

Victor paused to consider. "Perhaps you are right, and I may even know the cause."

"Oh? Would you care to enlighten me?"

Victor wondered if Charles could indeed handle the truth about Haven. Not that he had any intention of telling Charles the whole story, but perhaps knowing some small details might assuage his conscience about Victor's actions. "Soon. But for now, I thank you for checking on Lydia for me."

"If you don't mind me asking, Victor, why did you pull me out of my meeting for this? Is something wrong?"

"My avatar in Gina encountered more resistance this morning while I was away from the school on an errand, but was able to quell it."

"That's not good, not this close to Halloween."

"Ah, but there is hope. My avatar was helped in part by Gina herself. She wants nothing more than for her head to settle. She is accepting her as yet unspoken role. I believe I am close to smoothing things out for good."

Charles let out a relieved sigh. "Well, that is some good news for a change, yes. Now, I hate to cut you off, but I need to get back onto this conference call."

"Of course. You have been very helpful. I will see you later." Victor snapped his cell phone closed and tucked it in his shirt pocket as he reached the intersection with Main Street. A right turn here would send him back towards the school. Instead, he signaled for a left turn and headed east towards the edge of town. He felt the need for a moment's peace and a reminder of the importance of learning from past mistakes.

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.