Jason had woken up that morning feeling like he had more sleep in one night than he had had the past week. He no longer felt like he had fallen so far behind in the journal that he had no hope of catching up. He dared to think he might close the gap further before he went to bed that night. After all, Elizabeth had developed her defense; all she had to do was test it and refine it.

The only question which remained was whether she would reveal the formula of what he assumed was a potion. To him it made no sense to conceal it, except perhaps in some form of code. He was good at deciphering those. It would be just another logic puzzle.

Unlike most of his friends, the Conners did not attend church. They had stopped soon after moving to Haven, largely due to his father's disinterest. It had disturbed his mother at first, but where she was not terribly religious herself, she eventually let it go rather than continue "banging her head against the wall" as she had put it the final time she had brought it up.

Jason carried his improved spirits into breakfast. He was able to ignore his troubles and (to a lesser extent) his mother's Aura enough to engage in idle conversation. The only thing which disturbed him were her occasional furtive looks, delivered with faintly sultry eyes, her voice occasionally tainted by a husky cadence.

"I do hope you're not going to spend another day holed up in your room," Audrey said towards the end of the meal.

Jason was prepared. He had spent his time in the shower coming up with responses to any attempt to divert him from his task of studying that journal. "I've got some homework I need to finish up, Mom."

"Surely that won't take you all day?"

"I'm studying for exams, too. They're coming up in about three weeks."

"You never had to study this hard before."

Jason was about to respond when his father said, "Give the boy a break, Audrey. High school work is more challenging than grammar school."

"I know that very well, Henry, thank you," Audrey said in a lofty voice.

"Then maybe you should consider it when you start talking about this nonsense of him holding down a job on top of everything else."

Audrey sighed. "We've been over this before. My mind is made up."

"Not unless I have--"

"Dad," Jason declared. "It's okay."

His father looked askance at him. "You realize I'm on your side here."

"That's another thing wrong with this family," Audrey said. "There should be no 'sides.' There should only be what's best for Jason."

"Dad, I mean it, it's okay." Jason gave his father a significant look and said in a lower voice, "I've got a handle on this."

Henry narrowed his eyes at his son, then shifted his gaze to his wife.

Jason let out a small sigh of relief. He had seen his father's Aura churning, like it had the day he had confronted his mother when Melinda and Richie had come to visit. He was not sure how far his father had to be pushed before he actually used whatever power he had, but Jason did not want to find out.

I want to do this without your interference, Jason thought. He did not want his father's kind of help, not when he was so close to a solution which carried not the slightest taint of the Darkness.

"You see, Henry? Jason understands now the need for taking on more responsibility," Audrey said. "I really wish you would take a lesson from that."

Henry paused, then put down his glass with a loud report, a few drops of orange juice splashing onto the tablecloth. He stood, shoving his chair back until it almost tipped over. "I've got to get started on the chores," he muttered as he headed away.

Audrey sighed and shook her head. She stood and gathered the dishes. "Jason, please stay long enough to help me clean up."

Jason glanced towards the door as he slowly stood. "Um, sure thing, Mom."

"I must say, it's refreshing to see you a little less sullen and a little more agreeable," Audrey said. "One would think you were upset with me."

Jason's gaze flicked over the writhing entrails of her Aura. "No, of course not, Mom. Just ... stuff on my mind."

Audrey smiled, her eyes smoldering for a moment before she turned away, carrying an armload of dishes into the kitchen. Jason let out a slow sigh and piled the cutlery and glasses onto the last remaining dish before following her inside.

"I hope that 'stuff' isn't all about your girlfriend Melinda," Audrey said, her voice more amused than admonishing. She put down the dishes and opened the dishwasher. "Or about whatever other girlfriends you have."

Jason did not respond at first, not having expected the comment, and certainly not spoken in a teasing sort of voice. "Um ... I'm not sure I know what you mean, Mom."

Audrey pulled out the bottom rack and arranged the dishes inside it, bending over a little bit more than she likely needed. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean."

Jason hesitated, distracted for a moment when he thought something was off about his mother beyond the Dark influence. "I, uh, thought we had talked about this."

Audrey stood to grab a few more dishes from the counter and bent over again. Jason still thought something was not quite right about her. "Nothing says we can't talk about it again. I've been thinking about it some more. Quite a lot, actually."

"Why? Have I given you any cause for ..." Jason trailed off as his mother straightened. His eyes widened as he understood. So incongruous was it for his mother that his brain had refused to accept what his eyes had already seen.

Audrey smiled and grabbed the remaining dishes, her bra-less bosom jiggling under her blouse. "You think I'm upset with you, don't you?"

"Um ... uh ..." Jason murmured, too nonplussed to form a coherent response.

She bent over to put the last dishes in the rack, her bosom leaning into her blouse. Jason caught a glimpse deep into her cleavage and looked away. "You're a normal teenage boy, honey, with normal teenage drives." She paused to rearrange some of the dishes for no apparent reason other than it would let her remain bent over a few seconds longer. She finally stood, and Jason looked only at her face, regardless how much it attenuated his perception of her Aura. "And some of those drives just happen to be sexual."

Jason's heart thumped. Audrey took the remaining dish from Jason's hands and began placing it and its contents in the dishwasher. Only then did he realize his hands had been shaking enough to rattle the glasses on the plate. "Mom, I-I'm not--"

"There's no need to hide it, Jason, not anymore."

The irony of the moment was not lost on him. He had wished that he did not have to hide so much from her. "I'm still not having as much as you think," he said in a low voice.

"But I do think you've had far more than you're willing to let on." Audrey straightened and began placing the glasses in the top rack. "And with more that one girl." She chuckled. "Far more than one, I imagine."

Nothing chilled Jason more than that laugh. He had hoped he had been wrong about the day before, that the faint sounds he had heard after his mother had retreated to the sewing room were his imagination.

"But I can understand why," his mother said in a slightly husky voice. "You are quite the handsome boy, Jason. I can imagine how you could turn a girl's head quite easily."

Jason's cheeks burned. His body flushed, but not with embarrassment.

"Really, if I had met someone like you when I was your age, I'm not sure I could have resisted--"

"Mom, stop it!" Jason cried.

Audrey gave him a bewildered look. "Did I say something wrong?"

Jason swallowed. "Just listen to what you're saying. You can't say that kind of thing to your own son."

Audrey sighed and shook her head. "Sometimes you take after your father too much, thinking you can decide what I can and can't say. Perhaps I'm getting tired of that and want to speak my mind more."

"I don't believe any of this was on your mind before a few days ago."

Audrey paused, and Jason dared to hope that he might have gotten through. Instead, she slowly smiled and placed a hand against his cheek. Jason struggled not to recoil, and he let out a small, ragged sigh as a wave of pleasant warmth cocooned his body. "You don't know my mind as much as you think you do," she said in a soft, breathy voice.

For a moment, Jason considered what was once unthinkable. He contemplated reminding his mother about the time he had not been in school all day, when she was sure he was doing drugs or something equally bad. He had used a spell from the Book to erase her memory of it, but if it only lay buried instead, and he could conjure it ...

He averted his eyes from her face and willed her Aura to return. It surged back almost at once. Dredging up that memory, even if it still existed, would be like a thimble of water to the ocean.

She slid her hand off his cheek and over his shoulder, then down his arm. "Perhaps I've simply come to understand my son better, and you don't want to admit it. How many girls have you had sex with now? There's Melinda, of course. Her sister Heather, perhaps? That well-to-do girl also?"

Jason flushed hot, and his crotch grew tight. What could he say? Denial would make him sound foolish, but he could not let this conversation progress any further. "That ... that's kind of private, Mom," he finally croaked.

Audrey smiled, her hand sliding further down his arm. "You don't have to give me the details, Jason, I can imagine them for myself." Her hand slipped from his arm and alighted on the outside of his thigh. "And I do imagine them," she added in a soft, husky voice.

Jason stumbled back, panting as if from the effort. He tugged the waist of his pants, willing his cock not to expand further and failing. He let his erection of betrayal remain cramped. "I don't think we should talk about this any more, Mom," he declared.

Audrey paused, looking mildly disappointed, but soon her expression took on a more motherly look again, though her eyes still smoldered. "Very well, dear. All I want you to know is that you don't have to hide it anymore. I'm aware of your sexual activity and I won't be trying to stop it." She paused. "In fact, I encourage it."

Jason stared. "You don't mean that," he said in a flat voice. "You can't possibly mean that."

"Only that I don't want you to neglect your girlfriends, honey."

"Dammit, I don't have more than one--"

"Whatever you want to call them, then. Sexual partners, I suppose."

The experience was too surreal to be happening. Jason wished he could see the psychic auras like Debby could. Then he could at least reassure himself that some part of her was still fighting this influence.

Jason sensed the Darkness whispering to her. He could not make out the words; it had apparently learned how to keep its conversations more private, perhaps via channeling the line energy.

"Don't deny them and don't deny yourself," Audrey said as she lifted the dishwasher door with her foot. "I just want you to be happy and healthy, and I accept that at least the former includes a vibrant sex life."

Jason nodded quickly and backed up a step. "Okay, great, Mom, I'll keep that in mind. Um ... is there anything else? I have to get back to doing schoolwork and all that."

Audrey let out a small sigh. "We rarely get a chance to sit down and talk to each other anymore."

"Mom, my exams, I--"

"Oh, very well, Jason. But at least consider coming back downstairs every now and then to--"

Jason did not hear the rest as he had fled the kitchen. He took the stairs two at a time despite his mother's past admonishments against it. He dashed into his room and had to catch himself or he would have slammed the door.

He let out a long, quavering sigh, loud enough that he did not hear the first warning chime from his computer. His cock was still stiff, and he thumped his fist against the door, muttering a curse under his breath. How did Richie ever deal with this? How could he stand having his own mother ...

Jason shook his head violently and stepped away from the door. It would never go that far. He would not let his mother become so traumatized.

Jason was about to reach for his school backpack so he could arrange textbooks and notebooks around him to maintain the ruse when he heard the chime. He raced to his computer and zig-zagged the mouse across the pad in his impatience, freezing when his eyes fell upon the output of his program: New activity detected on community board website.

Jason swallowed and brought up the browser. He navigated to the site and stared when he spotted it at once under the "Help Wanted" section: Are you a teenager looking for some extra money for the holiday season? The Li'l Missy Inn is looking for a part time managerial intern, with the option to become full time this summer. Please apply in person. Ask for Stacy Missen, General Manager.

Jason almost laughed. Managerial intern? Even the job title sounded ludicrous. Never mind the fact that underage workers were not allowed to be employed at hotels in that state.

He knew none of that mattered, but if he did not find some humor in it, he was sure he would go mad. He turned away from the computer and stood. Now it was a race against the clock. He had to assume that once his mother discovered the job listing and confronted him, he might not want to look through the journal anymore.

All right, let's get to work, he thought with renewed resolve.

Heather emerged from the kitchen after cleaning up from breakfast, her heels clicking against the tiled dining room floor. She brought down each foot with just the right force to jiggle her breasts in her tight costume and swung her hips in perfect timing to her steps. Each ripple and sway kept her pussy warm, damp, and aching.

She stepped into the living room where her Mistress sat in her usual chair like a queen upon her throne. Her robe was open, her legs spread to receive the enthusiastic bordering on frantic ministrations of Marcie's lips and tongue. She shuddered, wishing it were her licking her Mistress' delicious pussy instead.

Just as Mistress turned her gaze towards her, she saw Marcie was wearing a pair of black panties. Marcie shivered and uttered a ragged, wet moan into Mistress' pussy, her hips writhing and rocking as if humping an unseen lover.

"Strip," Laura said in a breathy voice.

Heather moaned as a wave of pleasure and anticipation washed over her. Her skin flushed hot as she slipped out of her uniform, nipples tingling as her breasts rolled free. She shrugged out of the top half of her costume and pulled the remainder down her legs, her pussy aching for her Mistress' next command.

Her Mistress cast a lingering, lascivious look, and Heather's pussy tingled with delight at the scrutiny. "I have something for you, slave. Look behind you."

Heather turned around. Her gaze fell upon the coffee table which had been pushed against the opposite wall to allow more space for her Mistress' "playroom." Upon the table were two small wooden boxes with hinged lids. One was open, the inside lined with velvet. The other was still latched shut.

For a moment, a terrible memory pushed back the lust. It looked similar enough to the box Melissa had used during the Rite to capture and trap Heather's essence before Richie had rescued her.

"Curious reaction," Laura said with mild amusement. "You'll have to tell me why sometime. Open it."

Heather stepped forward as tendrils of her Mistress' Dark power smoothed over her emotions, until she became excited and curious as she lifted it. She unlatched it and raised the lid. She was not sure what she was looking at. At first she saw a black triangle, and she caught the scent of fresh leather. She saw what looked like the business end of a dildo, the tip fashioned into the shape of the head of a man's engorged penis.

"Take it out and come over here."

Heather put down the box and lifted the contents. It did indeed look much like a pair of black panties, the crotch shiny like leather but far more supple and smooth. Attached to the inside of the crotch was a short but fat dildo with the realistic-looking head.

Laura let out a long, husky sigh, her breath quickening. She lay her hand against Marcie's head and said, "Sit. Stay."

Marcie drew back from Mistress' pussy, panting softly, her hips alternately squirming and humping. Heather realized Marcie was wearing the same as she held in her hands.

"I'm rather pleased with how they turned out," Laura said. "Marcie's been wearing hers while you were in the kitchen. I wonder if you'll like yours just as much."

"I'm sure I will, Mistress," Heather said in a soft, breathy voice of desire. Her pussy ached to feel the dildo nestled inside her.

Laura's lips curled into a wicked smile. "You have little idea just how much, slave. Now, put them on for me."

Heather was about to lower the panties when she caught sight of the reflected light shining from the dildo. She hesitated, staring at the green-tinted, gel-like surface of the shaft. She had seen that shade of green before.

"Is something the matter, slave?" Laura said.

Heather looked up, failing to catch the knowing tone in her Mistress' voice. "No, Mistress," Heather said in a hollow voice as she stepped into the garment. She drew it slowly up her legs, and the feeling of familiarity again made her hesitate with the head of the dildo piece poised at her glistening labia.

"You're going to really enjoy these, slave," Laura purred, her eyes glittering. "I've been working on these for months now. Put them on, now."

Deep in her mind, Heather made the connection, her hands trembling. Nevertheless, a slave must obey, and she eased the thick shaft into her pussy. She uttered a husky sigh as it penetrated her, her fingers having to apply pressure to coax it into her tight cunt. She shivered as it sank the rest of the way, as if sucked into her like a plug. The rest settled against her, drawing tighter until they were flush with her skin.

Heather uttered a tiny gasp, and her hips jerked. The dildo sat tight inside her tunnel, yet she felt as if it had moved. Her eyes widened as it happened again, a slow twisting sensation, rolling slowly one way and the other. Her hips writhed, just as she had seen Marcie do.

Heather moaned and trembled as the dildo began sliding back and forth, slow thrusts deep into her cunt and back again. It no longer felt like gel but hard flesh, a real cock penetrating her and stroking her swollen and slick clit. Her eyes slid closed as her hips rocked to the same rhythm like riding a real lover.

This is impossible, it's not real ... but it ... it must be, I can feel it ... I can't ...

Rational thought fell apart under the sensual assault. The "cock" sank deep into her and remained, twisting and changing angle, teasing her clit until she silently begged for more. It resumed its slow thrusts, and she sank to her knees in a low moan of delight.

Memories flickered through her head, distracting her from the pleasure until she finally struggled against it, her hips quivering as she forced them to remain still. Her attempt to push back the false reality failed, and the dildo in her twat became a real cock again, her hips swaying and humping once more as pleasure rose unbidden.

"I'll bet I know what you're thinking," Laura purred.

"Uhng ..." Heather moaned, unable to bring the words to her lips.

"And it's likely wrong." Laura stood and stepped around Marcie. She took Heather's hand, pulling her to her feet.

Heather opened her eyes, casting a pleading look. Mistress smiled and lay her hand against the crotch of the panties. Heather shuddered, panting as her pleasure soared while she imagined herself humping a teenage boy she had never seen before. It shifted again to yet another, someone near her own age but unfamiliar. It faded into the next one, and now came a flicker of recognition. He was a boy in her year at Haven High, someone she had once dated briefly some time ago.

She swallowed and tried to think of it as a dildo sitting dormant in her pussy. She could grasp it for only a moment before the other imagery surged back.

"Remember Nyssa?" Laura said. "Remember how she would draw that strange liquid from those she affected?"

The thrusts slowed and stopped. Heather whimpered, her hips writhing as if grinding against a lover in a silent plea to resume fucking her.

"Then she could inject it into others and give them the same desires as the ones from whom she extracted it. She could give physical form to her power and imbue objects with it."

Heather raised a trembling hand to the waistband sitting snug against her skin. She could not get her fingers under it, as if it were a tattoo rather than material. She realized it would never come loose, not until her Mistress willed it. It might as well be a part of her.

Laura's hand slid up from Heather's crotch and played with her nipples until she moaned. "Remember where I got my power from, slave. Perhaps she did not quite mean to do it, but she imparted some of that ability to me. It's taken me this long to master it."

The cock began to thrust, but only very slowly, just teasing Heather's clit until her pussy ached with need. She closed her eyes, willing the sensation to stop, but her body did not desire the same as her mind.

She knew it was a lie. She knew there was no real cock. Yet her pussy continued to react as if the lie were reality. Her hips swayed to meet her unseen lover's movements, and her mind filled with imagery of different teenage boys fucking her in turn.

"So, no, it's not quite Victor's power. I had to enchant and fuck quite a number of boys at Haven High to imbue these. Now you'll feel like you're fucking them." Laura smiled. "If you haven't already, that is."

Heather's hands trembled as they again reached for the panties, but her Mistress brushed them away. Heather moaned as her remaining resistance faded, and she rode the cocks of multiple lovers in turn. Her pleasure varied with each one, as each one fucked her differently.

"You should thank me for the effort to do it in so many interesting ways," Laura cooed.

"Thank you, Mistress," Heather moaned. "Uhngg ... oh God, thank you ..."

Laura draped her hand over Heather's crotch for a moment before caressing her thigh and hip. "Now just enjoy it for awhile, slave. Enjoy how wonderful it feels, and how I am the only one who can remove it. Or allow you to cum. Especially remember that last part."

"Yes, Mistress," Heather breathed, hips swaying as moisture glistened at the edges of her crotch.

Laura looked behind her. "Marcie, heel. Lie down." Marcie crawled to her spot next to the chair and curled up on the carpet next to the space heater. She moaned and writhed even as she lie still.

She turned back to Heather. "This is so much easier. Now I can keep your slutty little mind open to me with hardly any effort. I'm sure you'll be so much more receptive to my reasoning in certain matters concerning your mother. And your sister."

Heather shuddered. The moment of alarm was swallowed up by the image of a swarthy teenage boy slamming his thick cock into her pussy. Her hips jerked with each imaginary impact.

"In fact, I may just let you take this home with you. I'm sure it would fit your sister just as well."

Heather whimpered. Before it was swallowed up by the false memory of another teenage lover, she saw Melinda pumping her hips in helpless ecstasy, begging to cum, unable to remove the panties.

"And then only I could remove it," Mistress purred. She took Heather's hand. "Now, come, slave, and pleasure me."

Heather stumbled forward, her hips swaying to their own rhythm. She fell to her knees before her Mistress' spreading legs, licking her lips with anticipation as pleasure surged and ebbed in her pussy.

Not Melinda ... came the last weak thought before it dissolved into the dark mists of induced lust.

Diane felt a mixture of trepidation and relief when the wheels of the mini-van crunched over the gravel of the same clearing she had visited just two days before. She squirmed as wet heat steamed in her pussy, and she gripped the sides of the seat to prevent her from relieving the need herself. Debby had told her to hold out as long as possible, as it would be better if Debby could direct her.

"This is the place, Diane?" Debby said as she circled it once and slowed to a stop.

"Yes, this is it exactly," Diane said in a strained voice. She closed her eyes, and blue-white energy glowed in the ethereal void. "I-I can sense it already, the line energy. More than I could last time."

Debby killed the engine and yanked the emergency brake. "All right, let's get into the back seat and hope this place remains as secluded as it did last time."

Diane opened the door, flinching when the icy air touched her face. Debby had cranked up the heater, and she slammed the door quickly to keep the heat in when she climbed inside next to Diane.

Diane glanced at her window, where Debby had rigged up a curtain with some duct tape. A similar one hung from the other side. It was not perfect, but it would at least block casual observation. She was at the point where she did not care. She could not unzip her pants and push them down her legs fast enough.

"I know you're intensely aroused, Diane, but I'm going to have to go slowly," Debby said as she pulled her gloves off.

Diane swallowed and spread her legs, her panties stained dark. "I don't care, Mrs. Radson, just ..." She blushed. "J-just touch my pussy, please."

Debby's eyes darted about the pieces of tape holding up the curtains before she placed her hand against Diane just above her delta. Diane felt Debby's hand trembling, and for a moment renewed guilt weighed upon her for dragging Debby into this. I should have stopped being a coward and come here myself -- oh GOD ...

Diane shuddered and moaned as Debby's fingers slid under her panties and into her slit. She writhed and gripped the seat, this time to stop herself from lifting her hips to meet Debby's hand. Fingertips slid in a slow swirl about her clit, pleasure rising with agonizing slowness.

Diane closed her eyes. "P-please, a little harder," she begged in a breathy voice.

"I have to do it this way if you're going to learn better control."

"I-I know, but ... uhng ... " Diane's hips rose.

Debby placed her free hand against Diane's thigh and pushed her back down. "Please, try to remain still. We have to do this right."

Diane felt a sudden pull over the link with the Harbingers. She tried to see past it to get a glimpse into the heads of the others, but it was too vague for her to discern save for the identity of her fellow Harbinger in distress. "I think it's Melinda who needs help this time!"

"Slowly, Diane," Debby said, though her voice was strained. "I know, I can sense it as well. Can you still see the line energy? Is it any closer?"

"I can see it, but it's not yet-- " Diane gasped as Debby's fingers glided up and down her slit, pressing into her clit and playing at her entrance. "Uhng! Th-thank you ... oh God ... please don't stop."

"I'm having to go a little faster than I like. Goddess, I wouldn't have believed it. Trying to do something to her in church!"

"Is that what I'm seeing? It's hard to ... uhhn ... h-hard for me to really bring ... uhng ... bring it in ... I-I can hardly talk ..."

Diane squirmed despite all her attempts to sit still. Pleasure rose, plateaued, strained, then rose again. Each step drove her to more maddening heights of need and lust. Moisture trickled from the edges of her soaked panties and dripping onto the seat cushion. In her head, the line energy surged and glowed in resplendent brilliance but had yet to enter her.

"It's getting brighter," Diane breathed.

"Yes, I can see it in your psychic aura," Debby said in an awed voice. "This is quite remarkable! All right, I need you to tell me if it gets to be too much. When you do orgasm, you need to try to control it like I had taught you."

Debby's words spun in Diane's head, and she nodded in response despite having her doubts that she would be able to control anything once she came. She gasped as Debby's fingers sank into her tunnel, knuckles sliding against the wet fabric as Debby finger-fucked her in a deep, hard rhythm.

Diane moaned and rocked her hips, and this time Debby said nothing in admonishment. She quelled the urge to apologize and held out little hope she could do as Debby wished once her pleasure reached its excruciating crescendo.

Having Richie sit behind her had given Melinda renewed determination to resist whatever Aunt Jo would do to her. Every time Jo leaned in to whisper something to her, Richie would utter an explosive cough, clear his throat loudly, or drop his hymnal between them.

It did not block everything, and Melinda's pussy slowly grew wet and needy, but knowing someone was trying to protect her made her feel like she was no longer alone. Hearing Jo have words with Richie gave her another boost of confidence. When Richie's mother subsequently berated him, heads turned and even the minister looked askance at them for a moment.

Come on, Richie, keep bringing attention to us, Melinda thought in desperation as her pussy ached for relief. Maybe she won't try anything if everyone's looking at us.

Thus far it had been words alone. Little asides and whispers, woven into the context of the church service, but triggering thoughts of lavishing pleasure on Jo's body. Physical contact had been limited to their hips touching, though it had been enough to flood her pussy with hot lust.

Melinda shifted in her seat and felt moisture soaking through her panties. Just as the congregation was called to stand in prayer, Jo tried to whisper something to her, and Richie let loose another hacking cough.

This time Richie had managed to mask it completely. She took a small side-step away from Jo, the distance letting her pussy cool down enough to stave off a complete breakdown of modesty. It brought her closer to her mother, but Penny had tried nothing with her at all, not a word, not a touch. Melinda did not seem to exist to her.

She'd be trying to stop Aunt Jo if she really gave a shit, Melinda thought, determined to maintain her rage.

She felt something brush against her arm. Just as she turned her head towards her aunt, she heard a sharp snap and saw her aunt's arm suddenly pull back as if having touched something hot. "That's it, young man, I've had enough of this," Jo said in a sharp whisper.

"What, I didn't do nothing!" Richie answered, his voice loud enough to pull in looks from several pews.

"I saw you shoot that rubber band at me clear as day."

"You didn't see shit."

"That's enough, Richie!" Sandra whisper-shouted past a confused Cathy. "You've been pulling this shit since we got here. Move down the pew."

"You're all fucking nuts. I'm not moving just because this bitch says I'm--"

Sandra shoved Cathy hard, who gasped and almost fell into Richie, bring her face within an inch of his. She smiled sheepishly, her eyes smoldering as if she liked the close contact, until Richie looked daggers at her and held his ground.

Sandra clenched her teeth and shoved again, Cathy uttering a yelp. Richie muttered a curse he did not bother to cover and finally gave in, sliding to the left and away from Melinda. He looked to her with a combination of fury and guilt.

Melinda sighed and wished she could convey how grateful she was for what help he could give. She had a feeling he would be forced to push it too far. She turned forward and struggled to find her place in the prayer, the rest of the congregation having gone forward without them.

She felt a hand alight on her ass, and she gasped out the next words of the prayer. She swallowed, and her next breath emerged as husky sigh. She leaned forward, but the hand followed, squeezing her ass cheek. She heard Richie mutter another curse as pleasure tingled in tantalizing anticipation in her pussy.

Oh God, no, Melinda thought as she squirmed against her aunt's touch. Her words faltered until she gave up trying to follow the prayer. She thrust her ass into Jo's hand, craving the touch as much as she wanted to avoid it. She raised her sultry eyes towards the pulpit, and for a moment the minister looked right at her. He did not miss a beat, and even smiled at first her then her mother.

Why the hell did I expect any help from him? Melinda thought in desperation.

The prayer ended less than a minute later and the congregation sat down. Melinda's sigh of relief became a desperate gasp when her panties were yanked into her slit. When she tried to shift in her seat to relieve the pressure, she felt her aunt's hand behind her, just below the small of her back.

Melinda let out a ragged sigh, the tiniest movement rubbing the wet fabric against her clit. She whimpered and tried to remain absolutely still, but Jo's hand jerked upwards, relented, jerked, relented, driving her pleasure into a slow but inexorable rise upward.

Jo leaned over and whispered into her ear, "Ever have an orgasm while in church?"

Melinda shuddered and clenched her pussy, but nothing would stop it. Her sex swam in moist heat, her clit hyper-sensitized. As her pleasure rose, her nipples tingled, and each breath rubbed them against the cups of her tight bra.

Melinda teetered on the edge of a pit of despair, one climax away from giving up and letting Haven and the Harbingers go however they may. Or until Jason could rescue her, if he didn't stop hating her for falling.

Diane realized then (or finally admitted to herself) how traumatizing her experience with Victor had been. Every orgasm held the fear that this was the one in which her mind would slip away, and she would be locked inside her own head forever. She had no idea how the other Harbingers coped. Many of them had fallen to complete control, and yet they showed none of the cowardice that she saw in herself.

Even now, with a person she would never suspect of desiring to control her, she faced her impending orgasm with growing fear. She could point to no specific reason why she would become enslaved, but part of her was convinced nevertheless that this was a probable outcome, and only luck had been on her side.

She let Debby drive her harder, fingers plunging into her tight depths until she was bursting to come. Her pussy strained and ached for release, yet she remained just short. She gasped out her need and frustration, angling her hips, banging her pussy against Debby's hand.

"Easy, Diane, easy, don't force it," Debby said.

Diane tried to speak, but her throat closed up. Debby slowed her strokes, and Diane scrabbled for Debby's hand to force it back to its former rhythm.

"The energy is not ready, I can't drive you like this until it is," Debby said in a pained voice.

Diane closed her eyes and wanted to cry. Her pussy begged for relief yet stopped her from getting it. She looked inside her head and saw the line energy like a miniature blue-white supernova, yet just as distant as before.

"It's there," Diane finally croaked in a breathless voice. "I can s-see it."

"Is it in your mind?"

Diane did not respond, her pleasure hovering at a height so excruciating it was difficult to think.

"Is it there? Did you let it in?"

Diane whimpered. She understood, but she could not make it work.

Then, somewhere in the maelstrom of emotion, despair and desperation rose above the tempest. A few more torturous moments passed before she realized they did not come from her.

The dam of fear broke. Blue-white brilliance erupted like a column of magma to the edge of her mind. She did not know whether Debby had sensed the change in her psychic aura at that moment, but the fingers in her pussy abruptly thrust hard and fast. Diane gasped, too consumed by rising pleasure to respond with her hips in kind.

It was not needed. She burst over the top, and her mind was suffused in both sexual ecstasy and line energy. She did not bother trying to save it; she simply dumped it to the link, where it gushed forth through the ethereal weave of their shared psyche.

Through it she willed with all her remaining emotional strength for Heather to take what she offered. It became a strident plea when she thought she sensed Heather on as much a ragged edge of despair as her sister.

Melinda shivered with unwanted, mortifying pleasure as her pussy rose despite all attempts to stop it. She had stopped pulling at the link, as there was nothing to be had, and she did not want the reminder of her isolation. Even Richie's presence could buoy her no longer, his assistance reduced to little more than muttered curses any time he saw Melinda squirm.

Her aunt barely needed to tug on her panties anymore. As aroused as she was, just the pressure of the taut material was enough to induce a slow rise. She dreaded the inevitable hang and strain at the edge, for it would only make her orgasm that much stronger and messier.

When the presence suddenly flooded her mind unbidden, it felt so alien after all this time that she was unsure of what it was. Only when she heard Richie suddenly mutter "What the fuck?" that she understood. As soon as she turned her mind's eye to the link, wonderfully calming energy surged into her mind, like a whirlwind dissipating a thick fog.

Melinda drew in a deep breath and let it go as a steady sigh. Her sex cooled, the panties now simply a tight, wet rag that happened to be pressing against her clit. Her arousal was slower to abate, but she could ignore it for now. Her aunt tugged the panties again, and the cloth rubbed her still-slick clit. She felt a tiny spike of stimulation, but she closed her eyes and seized the link, drawing more energy from the others until the pleasure retreated once more.

Not the others, only one. Her eyes opened in surprise. Diane? She was never able to channel that much power except when they had used that spell on her. Melinda's eyes widened suddenly at the realization once she sensed the oddly electrified feel to the energy.

What the HELL is going on? Melinda demanded in her head. She felt as if she had been asleep for the past few weeks and woke up only now. She could not remember when her head felt this clear.

Jo tugged her panties again. Melinda clenched her jaw and jerked her hips forward. The waistband snapped against her skin as her aunt lost her grip. Before Jo could grasp it again, Melinda pistoned her elbow backwards. Her aunt's arm slapped against the back of the pew, her knuckles cracking against the polished wood with a sharp report.

Jo yelped and yanked her arm back, cradling her bruised knuckles in her other hand.

"Keep your fucking hands off me," Melinda muttered under her breath.

Melinda heard Richie snort and utter "Bitchslapped!" in a jubilant whisper.

Jo let out a slow breath. Melinda forced herself to stare straight ahead even as her aunt leaned towards her. "Now that was very naughty, Melinda, and I'm afraid you're going to be in a lot of trouble when we get home."

Melinda tried not to react, but she could not suppress a small shudder. It didn't matter. They could not possibly do anything worse. She finally had a tiny victory. The Harbingers still mattered and still cared.

Heather slid her hands along the inside of Mistress' thighs as they quivered in anticipation of sexual release. She pressed her lips harder to her Mistress' sex, sucking gently and twirling her tongue around her Mistress' needy clit. Laura moaned softly, writhing, a hand lying against the back of Heather's head.

The hand was not needed; Heather knew exactly what her Mistress wanted. She wanted to be teased short of climax a few times before being taken over. Laura loved the reminder of how she came to be the way she was, how Nyssa had tortured her with orgasm denial until she begged to be enslaved just to be allowed to cum. Mistress would not want to go that far, and the hand would press her slave's face to her pussy if she thought Heather were taking too long.

Heather's hips swayed, an imaginary cock sliding slowly in a gentle fuck. She moved in perfect concert with it, her hips coming down with each inward glide.

A short while ago, she had sensed Melinda over the link for the first time in what seemed like forever. Despite the fog of desire and obedience, she knew Melinda was in trouble. She sensed her little sister's desperation and unwanted lust, and she shuddered when she discovered the cause was yet another family member.

Whatever sympathy she could have conjured was swallowed up by the imagery of Melinda's hips rocking to the beat of the panties, her tight little twat fucked by a dozen different cocks one after the other. She sensed Mistress was quite pleased with this imagery, and Heather shivered in praise of her obedience. As she drove her Mistress towards release, she opened herself to the link to feel her sister's emotions better, solidifying her Mistress' desire in her mind.

Soft blue-white radiance burst into her head. She shuddered and uttered a gasp, just as her Mistress strained on the edge of climax, her fingers curling into Heather's hair. Melinda vanished from her head, and instead she heard Diane call to her as if her lover were standing right behind her.

Already her Mistress' control was trying to usurp the energy for itself, to stop Heather before she could experience any naughty or disobedient thoughts. In those few moments when the energy had saturated Heather's psyche, the dildo became nothing more than a hunk of gel shaped vaguely like a shortened inanimate penis.

In her brief episode of lucidity, her shoulders slumped as if from the weight of guilt. She had been denying herself help on the absurd idea that it would protect Melinda. Suddenly she could understand her mother's motivations and how they had led to the current untenable situation. Heather was not about to repeat the same mistake twice.

The energy was already fading. She could latch on to only so much before it drained away. She triggered her Mistress' orgasm as she repeated to herself that Melinda would be no more safe with Mistress than with their mother.

Heather moaned into Laura's pussy as her unseen lover resuming fucking her, hips rocking to its harder rhythm, convinced that her body was slapping against his.

Heather drew back after teasing her Mistress' orgasm into lasting as long as it took to reorganize her thoughts before the link quiesced. She settled back into total obedience, her hips swaying.

"Look up, slave," Laura said in a curt voice.

Heather lifted her gaze. "Yes, Mistress?"

"What just happened now?"

"Happened? I ... uhng ... don't understand."

"Yes, you do. Were you in contact with your stupid Harbinger friends?"

Heather paused. "Yes, Mistress, I ... uhnn ... I-I felt something from them. I can't ... ohh ... s-stop them from trying to help me."

"And you expect me to believe you didn't accept any?"

Her hips rocked harder, her eyes sliding closed as her pussy rose. "Uhng! ... I am still your slave, Mistress."

Heather sensed scrutiny from her Mistress, as if trying to confirm Heather's claim. She heard a long sigh. "Why is it so fucking important to you to keep your sister away from me?"

Heather could reply only with a whimper as the imaginary cock fucked her hard. She fell forward onto her hands and knees when it felt as if she were being taken from behind.

Laura bolted from her chair. "Fine. I'll just leave you like this for a few hours. See how you like being fucked a hundred times and never allowed to cum."

Heather let out a ragged sigh as her Mistress stormed out of the room. She felt guilty for being such a bad girl, and she deserved whatever punishment Mistress would inflict. But Melinda would still be safer right where she was.

"Slowly, Diane. Try to let it play out longer."

Diane barely heard Debby's words. Her orgasm had been so intense that her pussy ached even before it was over. She sensed her energy had gone to where it was needed, and her mind was still intact; she wanted to quit while she was ahead.

Debby did not let her. She kept stroking Diane's clit until Diane was writhing and moaning in near-incoherence, her climax settling from an explosive start to a gentle but strong throbbing which subsumed both mind and body.

Slowly, her other senses returned, and her rolling orgasm became less overwhelming and more pleasant. She wrapped her arms around herself, a ragged but satisfied sigh drifting past her lips. Debby withdrew her hand, but Diane's climax continued on its own for a few more seconds before finally fading.

"Are you all right, Diane?" Debby asked, her voice sounding as winded as Diane felt.

Diane raised a trembling hand to her face. "I-I think so. Oh my God, that was intense."

"Yes, but it looks like you've already gained some control over it."

Diane offered a weak smile. "Thank you for the encouragement, Mrs. Radson. I'm just happy I helped someone." She paused, and her smile widened. "And I think Heather took some of the energy this time."

"Is she free?" Debby asked in a hopeful tone.

Diane shook her head. "I think that would take a lot more than I could ever give her, even with this. She's too far under Ms. Bendon's control."

Debby nodded, and Diane sensed her disappointment. Diane struggled to believe that Debby was not disappointed with her, just the situation. It helped when Debby squeezed her hand and said, "You've done very well today. I think this taught you more than I could have back home."

"Could we go back there for a little while, please?" Diane asked. "I would really like to get cleaned up before I head home."

Debby smiled. "Of course."

"I think maybe we still need to work on something because I still don't feel like I stored anything. I feel more drained than anything else."

"We'll keep working on that, just not today, since you've been through enough. Can you come over after school during the week?"

Diane paused. "I don't know. I'll have to check with my mother." She sighed. "I wish I could tell her about this. It's like she's starting to sense that I'm involved in something and she's worried I'll get hurt. I wish she would tell me what she thinks is going on in Haven."

"That may come in due time. It is simply good to know that some people are waking up. Here, you stay in the back and I'll get us home."

Diane nodded and watched Debby leave the back seat of the van and climb into the driver's seat. She brushed the curtain aside and stared out the window. She could not decide if her mother knowing about any of this would be a good thing. Seeing what happened to the other Harbingers' parents when they became involved did not fill her with confidence.

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