Cassie descends into the dreamverse, and her unrequited lust follows her.

For a moment, she can sense both her real body and her ethereal one. The former squirms and whimpers softly under the covers, her pussy hot with desire, her panties stained dark with moisture. The latter feels flushed and giddy, and it is difficult for her to concentrate on her task.

She senses the Presence again, but he appears content to hover in the background. She feels amusement from him. Why is he always amused when she does things like this? Is she following some secret agenda of his?

She barely pays any mind to the cacophony of emotional chatter as she descends towards the line. She had hoped sleep would be a respite, but her libido marches to its own rhythm, and she is forced to follow.

It chooses her destination for her, and she is standing outside the mall, where she met the prostitute. The young hooker is nowhere to be found, but that does not mean there are no customers to be had.

A car slows and pulls up to the curb. Its driver glances about casually, as if daring anyone to find him. Despite parking under a street lamp, shadow enshrouds him. His eyes sweep the sidewalk and pass over Cassie without stopping. She stands in the shadows herself, unmoving; thus she assumes he does not see her.

He cocks his head to one side, as if in thought, then straightens up in his seat as he kills the engine. Occasionally his head turns leisurely towards the headlights which pass on the intersecting street, but he otherwise exudes complete confidence, as if in belief it is a shield that will protect him from the long arm of the law.

Not that Cassie believes that arm to be very long in this town. She doubts the police understand half of what is really happening in Haven.

Cassie utters a husky sigh as she imagines the hooker approaching him, enticing him with her walk and her teasing words. He is actually willing to part with his money just for some intimate time with her, just to feel his cock in her mouth or buried in her twat.

Cassie shakes her head and wraps her arms around herself. She squeezes her thighs together, but her pussy steams all the more. She could never offer her body for money.

And yet, when she showed up at the house of the man in Mesa View Estates, she was willing to offer herself for nothing, as if she were a live sex toy sent by the cult to entertain him. At least here, she could be in control.

As soon as the glimmer of doubt is cast upon her lust-fogged mind, her attire rearranges itself to suit her sexual whimsy. She looks down and hardly recognizes herself. A tight leather skirt hugs her hips. Her top squeezes her breasts into two round globes. Black fishnets coat her legs, and five inch heels scrape the concrete as she steps forward to get a better look at herself.

As she enters the light, the man's head turns towards her. "Well, well," the man says in silky and lustful tones. "If it isn't the little princess again."

Cassie gasps and shivers, her eyes widening as the familiar voice caresses her mind with icy tendrils which nevertheless heat her pussy to aching delight. Her heart pounds as she realizes it is the same man who had nearly taken her the first time she had met him.

"Only not the princess this time, no," he says, his voice dropping to a low, lascivious whisper which makes Cassie's skin crawl as well as flush hot with excitement. "You are very much dressed the part of the slut. Is that what you are this time?"

Cassie utters a quavering moan, her body tingling as it twitches with increasing desire to obey circumstance and show she deserves to bear her sexy attire. Her hips sway as one foot slides forward.

"Oh, do be my little slut," the man purrs as his Aura slithers and whips the air. "Do come to the car as only a good slut would."

Cassie trembles, and in her mind, the curtain shimmers and undulates. Suddenly, she is the Projection outside the Projection. She sees and feels her body move to his will, hips swinging in ways she never knew they could as she strolls toward the car. She brings each foot down with a crisp retort, jiggling her breasts. Her eyes smolder, pussy steaming despite the cool breeze which blows up her skirt, revealing her lack of underwear.

Cassie's empathic sense besets her protected mind with a doubling of every emotion. She feels it through her disconnected, controlled self, as well as radiating from it as if it were indeed a third person who only now joined the tableau and happened to take residence in Cassie's body.

For a moment, she is too giddy from the discovery to understand the danger. She is utterly fascinated with the effect, feeling both embodied and disembodied at the same time. When the realization does crash down upon her, she shudders and almost wrests control of her separated self from his Dark clutches.

She is forced to allow herself to be brought to the passenger-side door, where she leans forward exactly as she had seen the prostitute do, dangling her breasts against her top and thrusting her ass into the air.

"Mmm, I bet you are quite feeling the part now," the man says in a voice of such cold lust that it makes Cassie briefly shiver with revulsion despite the oozing desire in her pussy. "Feeling quite like the hooker who would take money for sex."

"I-I love to sell my body," the words come tumbling forth in a nervous and embarrassed quaver. Her cheeks become pink even as her hips writhe in unrelenting sexual need. Cassie's protected self senses the battle of wills; despite its isolation, her controlled self still has the instinct to fight.

The potion allows her to see what he is doing to her. The tendrils of Dark power worming their way into her isolated psyche have a tangible presence. She could close her eyes and feel like she could reach out and touch them.

"But perhaps I don't want your goods," the man says.

Cassie whimpers and squeezes her legs together. His hand reaches for her, and Cassie again quells the urge to take back control. She writhes in both ecstasy and revulsion as he lifts her top and lets her breasts spill out. She gasps and leans into his touch as he gropes her, fingers squeezing the petite but soft flesh.

"Or rather ... I don't want to pay for them."

"Uhng ..." Cassie moans. "You c-can have it for free ... I'll fuck you for free."

"Mmm, that desperate for cock, are you?"

"I-I live for cock."

The man considers. "And what if I want a more permanent arrangement?"

Cassie's fear spikes. Her lust increases in equal amount. His power cocoons her isolated self, smothering all attempts at resistance. The tendrils seem to reach past her mind and slither around her body, leaving trails of tingly pleasure as enticing promises whisper even deeper into her mind.

All she needs to do is obey.

She opens the door and climbs into the car at his bidding. Her protected mind panics. What if he enslaves her completely? Will she have to continue to play the part?

His hand reaches under her skirt, and she squirms and moans as his fingers sink into her wet and helpless pussy. Pleasure rises in both her selves, and while only one falls deeper into the Dark abyss, it makes it harder to think clearly simply from the intensity.

Before she understands what it happening, she is bent over his seat and taking his cock into her mouth. Her head bobs on his shaft, little muffled moans of delight passing through her nose.

"Mmmm ... yes, my little slut ... my free hooker ... enjoy your taste of cock," the man purrs. He tugs her skirt up and paws her ass. "Oh so solid and delightful. As if you really are here."

Cassie shudders and pauses in her ministrations, then returns to them with a vigor, lips and tongue moving in ways in which she has little innate skill of her own.

A chill passes through her, like it had when she stopped by Jason's house, like she would often sense from Richie's mother the few times she was near enough to the woman. The Darkness was hovering somewhere nearby.

"And I could take you." He trails his fingers up Cassie's back. "You were foolish if you believed Projection would stop such a thing."

Cassie feels a tug, and in her split and confused state it takes her a moment to realize it is the tether.

His fingers curl in her hair and pulls her head from his cock. Her smoldering eyes look into his cool and lustful ones and understand what he wants. She is all too eager to oblige despite the shrill alarm from her protected self.

She climbs out of the car but leaves the passenger side open. Panting heavily, she leans over and lays her head and arms against the seat, thrusting her ass into the air. She whimpers as her helpless pussy both buzzes with desire and prickles at the cold.

A shadow passes over her, and he grasps her hips. "Such a cute little disappearing act you pulled on me the other night," he says, hands kneading her ass cheeks to desperate moans from her. "And I am sure you will pull it again."

She feels the tether slowly tightening as the head of his swollen cock alights on her aching pussy, just nudging the labia apart. Her hands grip her too firmly for her to move; she will take this at his pace only.

"Eventually," he says in a silky voice as he eases himself inside her.

"Uhng!" Cassie cries, shivering with desire and terror both, as she is unable to completely contain the reaction from her protected self. She sees the curtain between her two selves twisting and billowing as if driven by a stiff breeze.

"Now, I wonder which will be faster, my dear little slut," the man says in a breathy voice as he forces her hips to hump his cock hard. "You taking your leave, or ... me taking you?"

Cassie pants as her pleasure rises in a cadence over which she has no control unless she takes back her mind in its entirety.

"Hooker or slave, hmm?" the man says.

The tether thins and tightens more, the tug against her psyche becoming uncomfortable. She feels the last resistance left in her isolated self crumble, her body now moving to his mental beat. Bodies slap together in rising sexual desperation as Dark tendrils spear her helpless, controlled self.

"Oh, it will be close, won't it?" he says in a breathless voice as his hips pound against her ass. He chuckles. "As you are."

Her pussy strains. Suddenly the pull of the tether becomes irregular. She wants to scream in horror that the tether is about to break and leave her psyche stranded and enslaved. What would happen to her body? Would it become an empty shell like Stephanie's had?

"Oh dear ... I fear it will be ... just hooker after all," the man gasps. "Consider this ... a friendly warning then ... that no power can help you ..."

Then, perhaps born from a surge of her stored sexual energy or from a simple blinding need, she senses the emotions of the Darkness. In that very brief instant, everything comes together into a perfect crystal clarity of understanding.

The man utters a guttural cry and slams himself into her one last time. She feels his cock erupt inside her and hears the breathless, gloating chuckle. A split second later, the tether yanks with such force that everything races away in a blur of light.

Inside the line, she bursts into orgasm, and she writhes and cries out in terrible ecstasy. The lingering tendrils of Dark control in her isolated self snap away, yet in that tiny instant she felt every bit the slave, empty of thought save for how she may again earn the reward of a warm and throbbing pussy.

She races backwards at breakneck speed, the tether still pulling her so hard that had it been a physical rope wrapped about her torso, it would have driven the wind from her. Even during the rise through the mesa, the inexorable pull continues. Suddenly she realizes she is fast racing towards something.

For a split second, she thinks she sees him. He is standing right at the tenuous gateway into the dreamverse. It is little more than a flicker, sliding off her eyes like quicksilver across steel.

The only detail she can remember as she slams back into her body is that he was wearing a feather.

Cassie bolted up in bed, her pussy still throbbing, her eyes wide with the already fading image of the spirit. She uttered a shaky sigh, wishing he would appear to her again if for no other reason than to thank him, for she realized it was he who had pulled on her tether and returned her home faster.

Cassie knew she should be shocked and horrified. As she reclaimed her isolated self, and the curtain became just so much decoration for now in her mind, she shuddered as the feelings of helplessness spilled into the other half of her now reunified psyche. Yet it was overshadowed by that one crack in the Darkness' otherwise impenetrable Aura through which she saw why the Darkness had preyed on her.

It was worried.

It knew the Harbingers were planning something, but it had no idea what, other than it would likely center around her Projection ability. This had not been a planned attack, just a shot in the dark.

No power can help you. The man had to be referring to Diane, the only one the Darkness knew had any sort of raw power the Harbingers could tap.

"Jason's going to try to take Diane today," Cassie said with a confidence which frightened her.

Richie woke up with a raging hard-on, not unusual for him. He could achieve an erection at the merest flicker of thought of a naked boob or a wet pussy. What was unusual was how it persisted long after he had risen, and how his thoughts turned to the nice, inviting pussy which awaited him downstairs.

He paused as he was about to enter the bathroom to take a shower, his hard and pulsing cock still leading him. He looked down at it and sighed. Normally he would not be averse to yet another roll in the hay with Cathy now that it was a stepping stone towards freeing his mother, but he felt the Darkness hovering nearby, working through the still-sleeping form of the very one he wanted to rescue.

He turned away from the shower and threw on his briefs before dashing out of the room and bounding down the stairs. No sooner had Cathy raised her sleepy head from the end of the sofa did Richie descend on her.

"I was dreaming about you, Richie," Cathy cooed as Richie pulled the covers from her naked body. She spread her legs and uttered a husky sigh, her sex glistening and swollen. "Which is why I'm already so wet for you."

Richie did not utter so much as a "good morning" before mounting and entering her. Soon Cathy was panting and gasping to his indelicate thrusts.

At once the Darkness crowded around his psyche, whispering its words of enticement. Finish the job, Richie, it crooned. She is practically enslaved to you already. She is such a needy little slut, isn't she? Just the way you like them.

Richie felt the shift in his mind as soon as the Darkness came near, like a reflex he could not control. He stood back and watched his isolated self deal with the seduction.

It had become far more intense than ever. The Darkness had apparently realized that a picture was worth a thousand words. Images slid through his head, moving like warm oil, of Cathy at his feet in worship, a collar around her neck. Dangling from it was a little heart-shaped tag with the words "Property of Richie Gardner" inscribed upon it. A chain stretched from her collar to his hand, and he delighted in lightly snapping the chain with each command he uttered.

Richie had never told any of his fellow Harbingers, but he found Marcie's permanent predicament with Laura to be damn hot. He would not really want to see a woman reduced to such mindless slavery, but he could not control his fantasies.

He wondered why the Darkness had not seized on that thought when he realized he had entertained the notion in the protected part of his mind. The situation was unreal. He almost felt like he was not enjoying this round of hot sex as much as he should, despite the fact that he could feel the pleasure in either part of his mind.

The pressure on his isolated self was enormous. She would be such a good, sexy pet for you, the Darkness purred. She's going to cum soon. It will be so easy. So very easy and quick.

Richie wondered why it had stepped up the pace suddenly. The flow of words and images was so heavy it struck of something Jason had once mentioned when referring to hacking: a brute force approach, as if the Darkness were simply throwing everything it had at him.

He dared not call on the link to his father. He sensed it seething and frothing like foam on a storm-tossed sea. He thought he heard faint words of admonishment, as if shouted from a distant hilltop. Why couldn't he find someone other than his own cousin to fuck? Why was he waiting to free his mother? Why was he so fucking stupid as to give half of his potion to someone else?

He started losing focus. He had let himself revel so much in the raw sensuality of the moment that he almost slipped fully into his isolated self. His cock strained at the edge as he drove it home with quick, piston-like thrusts. Cathy wrapped her legs around him, drilling her hips to him in perfect time.

He sensed his isolated self slipping. Why not just take her? How different would it be?

ALWAYS THINKING WITH YOUR GODDAMN COCK AGAIN! HAVE FUN BEING THE DARK BITCH'S FUCKTOY.

Opening the door a crack to his father's vociferous wisdom helped shore him up, yet he did wonder just before passing the point of no return what would happen had he let himself be taken. It would only have affected his isolated mind. Once the potion wore off, wouldn't that go away? Then Cathy would be freed as well.

He did not take the chance. He held on and pushed away any thoughts of enslavement before he and Cathy writhed, gasped, and grunted through their shared orgasm.

Closing the door again was hard. More venom spewed forth before he could relegate it once more to the distant shout. He wanted to scream in his defense that he was doing all he could. It was not like he had easy access to a fellow Harbinger for his sexual needs. Melinda was sequestered; Heather was Laura's fucktoy; Cassie wasn't being allowed within a mile of him by her high-toned bitch of a mother.

The last one was a shame. He loved fucking Cassie. It almost gave him the sense of violating the innocent, a thought which threatened to bring down another rain of criticism upon him.

You almost gave in, I know you did, the Darkness said with guarded glee. I sensed you wanted to. Perhaps that's really why you went back to fucking her like crazy. You want this to be permanent.

Richie parted from Cathy, and the voice faded from his mind. The Darkness retreated, becoming just a faint background pall. He allowed himself a small smirk when he thought it was safe.

Yeah, I can do this, he thought with a conviction he had not had in a long time. I can free Mom. I'll punt the Dark bitch's ass out of this house come Monday.

The chill of the icy winter morning did little to cool Melinda's pussy despite the lack of panties under her ever-shortening skirt. She did not think it possible to wear anything more abbreviated than the last one, but Aunt Jo had a present waiting for her that morning. This one was so short she did not have enough to pull down to cover her pussy when she sat. Only by keeping her legs closed would it remain hidden.

Naturally, Jo would have none of that.

Her nipples buzzed and ached, the rings clamped tight around them. Not a day went by when Jo did not mention how she would love to see Melinda sporting permanent rings she could tug and instantly bring Melinda to a state of wet need. Melinda's revulsion towards body piercings was being worn away little by little.

She shivered in both lust and fear as the bus appeared around the bend. She wished she were allowed to use the phone. She could have called Richie the night before to find out if he had obtained the potion for her. She could not face another day of humiliation.

Jo wanted her to find another boy to fuck, this time by luck of the draw. She had a little cloth sack in her backpack with two dozen folded slips of paper. Most said "Free look only" at which point she was supposed to lift her skirt and let him look at her pussy. One said "Good for one free fuck," which the boy could redeem any time that day for a most spectacular session of sex.

Her heart hammered as the doors to the bus opened. Richie gave her a nervous look at first, but his eyes widened when her skirt rose into view. She stepped off the stairs, and dozens of eyes descended on her, hoping for another glimpse of her shameless pussy. She heard a girl click her tongue and mutter "what a slut" under her breath.

Melinda's skin flushed in both desire and embarrassment.

She glanced at the seat she normally took, paused, then crossed the bus and sat down next to Richie. Her gaze skittered towards the nearest of the boys, and she opened her legs for him, rewarded by a low buzz of pleasure in her now exposed pussy.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, Melinda," Richie muttered. "You're not leaving anything to the imagination anymore."

"It's not like I have a choice," Melinda murmured back. She uttered a small, husky sigh. "My pussy is so slutty it can't be hidden anymore. Oh God, Richie, please tell me you brought the stuff!"

Richie rolled his eyes and glared at a nearby pimply-faced student. "What the fuck are you staring at, crater face? You want a new feature on that moonscape of a mug?"

The boy blinked and found something else to look at.

Richie turned to Melinda and muttered, "Way to go, pipsqueak. Now everyone will start thinking I'm a drug dealer."

"Well, we're not supposed to say what it is, are we?" Melinda snapped. "Maybe Aunt Jo has fucked with my head, but I still remember that. Do you have it?"

"Yes, I got it."

Melinda let out a sigh of relief even as she tugged her tight blouse to better show off the outlines of her nipple ring-clamps. The boy watching her made a gesture suggestive of what he wanted to do with her. She shuddered and gave him a sultry smile, opening her legs a little wider. "Give it to me, then."

"Not on the fucking bus," he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Richie, I have to have it. I can't--"

"Will you please stop sounding like some fucking druggie?" Richie whisper-shouted. "I have enough fucking issues with my reputation as it is."

Melinda did not think Richie would care. Then again, there were probably lots of things going on about which she had no clue. Heather was so deep into her sex slave role, and Melinda so addled by Aunt Jo's influence that it was almost as if they were no longer sisters.

She wished Heather would tell her what was supposed to happen on Monday.

Richie leaned over and cupped his hands over her ear. "I'll pass it to you in the parking lot," he whispered. "When not so many people are looking."

Melinda sighed and nodded. "All right, fine. So this will let me stop what Aunt Jo is doing to me?"

"It makes it so you can, yeah. You sorta get your brain split. Like you're looking at yourself doing things."

"But I still have to do them?" Melinda piped in annoyance. "I want to stop doing this stuff ... n-no matter how much it makes me feel like the slutty girl I always wanted to be."

"You can stop yourself, but if you do that in front of your Aunt, she'll know you did something."

Melinda wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. This only drew the blouse even tighter, tingly pleasure teasing her pussy as her nipples throbbed against the ring-clamps. She wanted to give that free fuck so badly she contemplated pulling the sack out now and distributing the papers to all the boys on the bus. "I j-just want to use it at school. I want to stop this," she said in a low voice.

Richie suddenly shifted position and uttered a low curse. Melinda gave him a questioning look. When he ignored it, she swept her gaze over him and lingered at his crotch. He shifted again as she watched, and she saw the telltale bulge.

"Are you getting off on this?" Melinda asked.

Richie rolled his eyes but gave her a guilty look. "You're not exactly making it easy not to, you know."

Melinda shivered and wished she could sit in his lap and hump him until they got to school, but Aunt Jo had again disqualified any of her Harbinger friends from being the lucky boy.

"But I think the potion has something to do with it," Richie said.

"Huh? How?"

Richie paused. "I don't think I'm supposed to say anything about it."

Melinda stamped her foot. "Come on, Richie! Please, don't leave me in the dark anymore, I can't stand it."

Richie sighed and gave her a forlorn look.

"Aunt Jo is not with the Darkness. She's not interested in anything I'm doing with the Harbingers."

"Yeah, but your Mom--"

Melinda's face scrunched up into a frown. "Don't talk to me about her. She hasn't given a shit one way or the other. She probably has Aunt Jo doing her dirty work for her."

Another boy made a lascivious remark about Melinda. She gave him a faint smile and shifted her legs so he could see her pussy better. Richie shot him a blazing look and pounded his fist into the palm of his hand. The boy looked away long enough for Richie to turn his attention back to Melinda before resuming his ogling. "I just don't want to fuck this up, Melinda."

"Then you've already done that by giving me the ... giving it to me. The others have already 'fucked up' by letting me find out about it in the first place."

Richie glanced around and sighed. He leaned in close again. "We're supposed to build up energy from sex," he whispered. "To use for rescuing people. Cassie's gonna try to get Jason back. Diane's going for Heather." He paused. "I'm going to free my Mom."

Melinda's eyes widened. Is that what Heather meant? Did she know Diane was going to free her, and then she could stop Aunt Jo?

"So I think it's making me horny all the time," Richie said. "So it may do that to you."

Melinda snorted. "Like that's going to be any different."

"Whatever. But now you know. I guess you could use yours to free your mother."

"I'm not doing shit for her," Melinda declared. "I'm not taking away from her from what she wanted in the first place."

Richie frowned. "Come off it already, pipsqueak. It's not like that."

"Like hell it's not."

"Look, you're not seeing the things I'm seeing. You want someone to bitch at? Bitch at your Aunt Jo. She's the one--"

"I'm not talking about this, period. I don't want to hear about it anymore. I'm only interested in getting myself out from under my Aunt. Mom can go to hell."

She heard Richie utter another frustrated sigh and mutter a curse under his breath.

Melinda wished Richie would stop bringing up her mother; it was so much easier to live in her little world of false hope. So what if Heather were freed? Even if she could help Melinda, it would last only as long as the next scheme their mother came up with to "protect" them. As long as their mother was in the picture, they would be in constant danger until they were eighteen and could legally set out on their own. That day seemed very far away.

Melinda shook her head. She couldn't do it. She was too filled with hate and emotional pain. Freeing her mother would have to come another day, and Heather would likely have to be the one to do it.

Cassie tried not to react when she and Ned walked up to the others in time to see the bottle pass between Richie and Melinda. She also tried not to make note of how ridiculously short Melinda's skirt was, thought Ned could not avoid muttering a comment before they were in earshot. "The skirts of the girls in those sex anime movies are longer than that. Uh, so they say."

Cassie ignored his faux pas, as she had bigger things on her mind. One was trying to ignore her hot and wet pussy. Sitting in the car next to Ned had been a sensual torture. Just the touch of his hips against hers had filled her head with thoughts of humping him in the back seat of the limo.

God, how am I going to get through the day like this? she lamented in the cacophony of her mind.

She felt a twinge of guilt. She had yet to tell Ned what had happened the night before. She sensed he suspected something had upset her, as she had not been as forthcoming that morning about her nocturnal adventures.

She was not afraid of him worrying about her, as he would do that regardless. Rather, she had yet to be fazed from being forced into sex with complete strangers twice. Was it because Projected sex didn't seem "real" enough to her, or was she simply holding back her negative feelings by not dwelling upon them? Where the Harbingers needed her focused and stable, she could not afford to test that theory.

Cassie found she had little to say. Everything was in motion. Ned and Diane were going to try to wheedle information out of Heather. She counted herself fortunate that Melinda did not stalk off this time.

"Richie, can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked when the group headed inside. She cast a guilty look at Ned, who had also stopped. "Um ... alone?"

"No prob, babe. Catch ya between classes." Ned saluted and jogged after the others.

Richie sighed and rolled his eyes. "If you're gonna ride me again for giving half my dose to Melinda--"

"No, Richie, I'm not going to do that," Cassie said in a terse voice. "I said my peace about it last night, and I'll trust you to do the right thing."

Richie paused, then nodded. "Okay, fine. So what's up?"

Cassie tried not to let her eyes roam, but it was difficult. Her gaze flicked down far enough to confirm what she had already sensed exuding from him like a warm glow. "Richie, did you get any sort of, um, side effects from the potion?"

Richie shifted his weight and tugged his belt. "You mean like being hornier than all get-out all the time?"

Cassie's cheeks warmed. "Yes, that," she said in a small voice. "So I'm not the only one."

"No, you're not, and it's pissing me off. Not like I have my choice of opportunity or partner ..." He trailed off.

Cassie's eyes widened, and her blush deepened. She suddenly recalled when she had had sex with him on Halloween night and how exciting it had felt. Her thighs quivered, and her gaze drifted downward. When it rose again, she found his eyes locked on her bosom, where her hardening nipples had raised two bumps on her fur-lined jacket.

"Well, one problem solved," Richie said with a tiny grin.

Cassie thought she should be doing this with Ned instead, but that was ordinary sensibilities talking. Nothing about their situation was remotely ordinary, and her pussy was not about to obey her sensible desires. "Richie, it's not that I don't want to," Cassie said in an unexpectedly husky voice. She let out a shaky sigh. "I-I really want to ... but you said it yourself. Where can we do it?"

"We got Mrs. Radson's house after--"

"I'm not going to last that long," Cassie said in a voice louder than intended. "To be honest, I wish we could do it now."

"You ain't the only one. One thing girls got going for them in this department is you don't have extra junk between your legs that just don't fit anywhere when you get horny."

Cassie refrained from mentioning that going through several pairs of panties a day was no picnic either, or dealing with how every bra in the universe was too tight and rubbed her nipples until they drove her mad.

"Lunchtime," she said. "I think I can hold out that long, or I can ... um, take care of things myself in the bathroom. You better ..." She trailed off when the thought of Richie stroking his cock made her skin flush hot. "B-better take care of it, too. Men are not supposed to let an erection go for too long."

"Yeah," Richie said. "Either that or actually listen to my teachers in class. That's boring enough to kill any boner."

Melinda stomped out of her first class still pissed off at Seeger. He had delayed her enough in a vain attempt to get her to go home and change into something less revealing that she missed her homeroom and had to go straight to her first class. She already had three boys pick slips of paper from the sack, though none won more than the free look. She still has no idea how she had managed it without the teacher seeing her.

She ran for the nearest girls' room and slammed the door on the stall shut. She put down the toilet seat and pulled out the bottle as she sat down.

Melinda eyed it for a moment, then unscrewed the cap and sniffed the contents. It looked and smelled like no more than colored water.

Nevertheless, she brought it to her lips and downed the contents in one gulp. She wrinkled her nose as the bottle parted from her lips. It tasted vaguely spicy but that was all. A few seconds later, she blinked, flinched, and shook her head as if water had gathered in her ears. She felt tingly for a second.

She stared at the empty bottle. Was that it? Other than those brief, odd sensations, she felt no different.

Melinda uttered a forlorn sigh. Great, she thought as she closed the bottle and stuffed it in her backpack. It probably didn't fucking work. Story of my damn life.

She emerged from the bathroom and headed down the hall. Her next class was in sight when a boy loomed in her path. She staggered back, her eyes widening as he gave her a crooked, lascivious grin.

"Hey, there, pussy-girl," he drawled. "I hear yer having a little lottery. I want in on that."

The second her pussy grew tingly and hot with the desire to have him draw the winning ticket, she suddenly felt as if she were having a waking dream. She had the sense of being disembodied, floating just outside her body looking at herself.

She watched herself give him a sultry smile and pull the sack from her backpack, moving with slow, sensual grace, swaying her hips back and forth in anticipation of giving him at least a nice long look at her oh-so-wet pussy. He licked his lips, raising his hand in anticipation of rooting around in the sack so he might have a chance of another, tighter place in which to root.

No. No! STOP! Melinda thought.

She felt a subtle shift in her senses. Her body trembled at the transition, and the hand pulling the sack from her backpack froze.

It took another few seconds for the rest of her mind to catch up with the abrupt transition. Her smile twisted into a frown, and she stuffed the sack into her backpack to the boy's confused look. "Go find some fucking porn to wank off to, loser," Melinda declared before pushing him aside with enough force to send him off-balance. She blew by him as he crashed into the lockers and marched away with as thoroughly unsexy a walk as she could manage.

Melinda's heart soared. She almost wanted to cry out in sheer joy. She felt the dichotomy in her head. Aunt Jo's control over her had been relegated to an isolated section of her mind that she could now puppet at will. It felt odd to have this self-within-herself, but she could manage. Anything which allowed her a break was welcome.

It did not fix everything. Her nipple ring-clamps still kept her pussy on a slow burn. She dared not take them off for fear of forgetting to put them back on before she went home.

The skirt did not help, either. Despite having blocked the desire to follow Jo's directives, the last few months had made her a far more sexual being than her peers. Just wearing the revealing skirt was enough to generate a low buzz of arousal.

Melinda arrived in her next class and sat down. She met all glances of anticipation from the boys with cold glares. When one gestured at her suggesting she should open her legs, she clamped them shut instead and flipped him the middle finger, mouthing the words "fuck off and die."

If Melinda regretted anything, it was that she would have to drop the facade when at home and let Aunt Jo do what she wished. At least now she felt she could look on as an observer rather than a participant and thus retain some semblance of sanity. Now she could get through the weekend.

Ned dashed out of the classroom and slipped between whatever gaps he could find in the throng of students, his thin frame quite the asset in this endeavor. It also helped that being accosting by school bullies had long since become a thing of the past. When he could lampoon his own physical shortcoming that was often the source of their merriment -- his slightly misshapen and bulbous nose -- he ceased being of interest to them.

Not that they had given up entirely; he heard the occasional passing "Nosenstein" or "Noseferatu" or a snort like a pig, but it was always from afar and never followed up.

Ned skidded to a halt with a brief high-pitched squeal of sneaker sole against polished floor. He paused to catch his breath and strolled up to Heather as she opened her locker. "Heya, Heather, what's shakin'?"

Heather turned her head. "Oh, hi, Ned," she said in a soft and dreamy voice. Her lips curled into a slow smile, her eyes slightly glazed. "Is everything all right?"

"I guess that's fer ya ta tell me," Ned drawled, leaning against the lockers.

"I guess I don't understand."

"Well, we're worried about ya. I mean, we feel kinda bad we can't seem ta do nothin' fer ya."

Heather gave him a wan smile. "Really, it's okay, Ned. You need to deal with Jason."

"Well, we're tryin' anyway. But we hardly talk ta ya when yer ... uh, well, shackin' up with the Haven High Grand Poobah."

"There's not a lot for me to say." She paused and gave him a guarded look. "Melinda always tells me how she doesn't like me talking about Mistress. I figured maybe the rest of you are like that."

"Well, if we are, we gotta stop that."

"But there isn't anything you can do for me."

"Mebbe not now, but we can at least make sure yer being treated okay."

Heather exchanged some books with those in the locker, looking perplexed, as if her enslavement had slowed her thinking process. "What do you mean?"

"We ain't got no insights inta what goes on over there," Ned said. "I mean, yeah, we don't need no play-by-play action, but fer all we know, she keeps ya chained to a bed all the time."

Heather smiled. "Oh, no, nothing like that. She never uses restraints on me. In fact, I usually act as her maid." She shivered and her voice became husky. "Her obedient wet pussy maid."

"Uh, right. So, like ya serve drinks ta her and all that?"

"Yes." Her eyes became sultry. "And service her any other way Mistress wishes, of course."

"Huh, yeah, I can see her sittin' on her throne commandin' her servants."

"Well, maybe not a throne." Heather paused and took another book from the locker. "Mistress does like that particular chair in the living room, though."

Ned nodded slowly at this breakthrough. Now he knew where most of the action happened.

Heather closed her locker. "Everything's fine, Ned," she said in a husky voice. "Mistress treats me well so long as I obey her."

"I wuz more worried about what ya may have feared yerself."

"Maybe I was fearful at first, but I've come to accept this." She let out another aroused sigh. "I am happy to be Mistress' sex slave. The orgasms she gives me when I'm good are so wonderful."

Ned had no idea where to go from here. He had no plan beyond his initial line of questioning. He decided to follow her lead. He had to work fast, as the next class was only two minutes away. "So it scared ya at first?"

"I guess you could say that, yes."

"What scared ya the most? I mean, besides bein' made inta a slave."

Heather paused. "It's kind of silly, really."

"Try me."

"Well ... Mistress has a laptop. She leaves it on all the time. It has a webcam."

Ned's eyebrows rose.

"I thought when I first became her slave, she would take pictures of me and put them the internet, maybe without telling me." She smiled. "It seems so silly now because there's nothing I wouldn't do for Mistress. I'd adore posing for her."

"Ah, yeah, I'm sure ya would. Listen, it's almost time fer class, and I talked yer ear off enough. Thanks fer the time. Mebbe the others won't worry 'bout ya so much."

Heather smiled and turned away.

Ned rushed back the way he came. He was not sure what shocked him more, how far gone she was or how ridiculously easy that had been. Yeah, too easy. A conveniently placed laptop she happens ta leave on all the time. It can't be that simple.

Could it?

Jason headed to his locker right before lunch hour feeling a sense of satisfaction. He had observed Diane from a distance at every opportunity that morning. He saw no evidence that any of the Harbingers suspected he planned to enslave Diane that afternoon.

His cock began to swell at the thought, and his lips curled into a small smile. He was quite looking forward to this. He missed having a slave at his sexual beck and call now that Cindy and Kim were no longer dependent on him. Naturally, until he made the other Harbingers understand, he would have to keep her enslavement a secret.

Then he would face another dilemma: how to convince the others. Cassie would be the hardest sell. She was so adamant in her belief that they should not be controlling anyone if they could avoid it, least of all a fellow Harbinger. She was the most upset over what Victor had done to Diane.

He mused about Melinda as he returned books to his locker. Perhaps he should take her up on her suggestion of making her his slave after all. With both Diane and Melinda under his control, he could better nudge the others into compliance. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.

However, Melinda would have to wait. He needed to acquire Diane first and get her power under proper control. Moreover, he suspected Diane was still chasing Richie's latest visions, and he was curious to see what unfolded. Diane would be a good girl and tell him what she was doing.

He closed his locker and headed into the cafeteria. He looked automatically towards where the Harbingers usually met, but only Ned was there. He was still alone after Jason emerged from the service line with his tray in hand.

He thought about asking where they had gone but doubted Ned would be forthcoming. He could not see how it had anything to do with with what he was planning that afternoon, but it concerned him nonetheless. Perhaps it was better he did not speak to Ned after all; no sense in risking tipping his hand.

As exciting as this could be, he wished he did not have to act in such a clandestine manner. He wished he could speak to Cassie and make her understand why this was necessary. If she could listen with reason rather than emotion, he was sure she would see it his way.

He did not care for the idea of having to enslave her as well, no matter how pleasant sex with her was.

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