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From: A Strange Geek <astraYOURngegeek@comMINDcast.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Melissa's Rite 01/31 (mf mF MF ff fF fsolo teen inc oral voy mc nc toys humil magic)
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<1st attachment, "Chapter01.txt" begin>

WARNING: This is a work of erotic fiction. It contains depictions of
nudity and graphic sex.

Author: A Strange Geek
Title: Melissa's Rite
Universe: Haven
Summary: The Darkness has found a new ally in Melissa, a 15 year old
girl bent on revenge on those that have wronged her. The others must
stop her before she gains more power and takes control of them all.

Part: 1 of 31
Keywords: mf, mF, MF, ff, fF, fsolo, teen, inc, oral, voy, mc, nc,
toys, humil, magic

Copyright A Strange Geek, 2007

Feedback welcome! Please email me at astraYOURngegeek@comMINDcast.net
( lose YOUR MIND to email me )

Or to send anonymous feedback, use the form at bottom of HTML version:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/A_Strange_Geek/www/novels/MRite/Chapter01.html



---------------

Kathy Hendell squirmed on the bed as she rose from the unnatural depths
of slumber with cruel sluggishness. Her breaths were soft, slow pants,
her thighs quivering as they spread apart. The sheet had long since
been tossed off, her sheer nightgown askew, the bottom hem bunched up
above her waist. Her glistening bush lay exposed to the slim shafts of
morning sunlight that leaked in from around the blinds.

Kathy's eyes finally fluttered open behind wavy strands of honey-brown
hair. She moaned and closed them again, draping a shaking hand over
them. She shuddered and gasped as she closed her legs and rolled onto
her side. Her body tensed and her jaw clenched as her fleshy thighs
pressed against her straining, aching pussy.

"No, please ... no ... d-don't ... uhh ... /uhhhn/ ..."

Kathy shivered, her breathing becoming a staccato, throaty pant. Her
hips jerked with each throb of a sharp, unwanted orgasm.

She whimpered as her climax faded, turning her face into the mattress,
honey tresses hiding her eyes from view. She was vaguely aware of
noises from the kitchen downstairs. Her daughter was already up.

Her body shuddered violently at the thought of facing Melissa again.

Kathy finally forced herself to sit up. Her trembling hands fought to
pull the nightgown down over her crotch, though it would do little
good. She hugged her arms around herself. The gown stretched tightly
across her plump breasts, the hard nipples tingling at the touch and
making her nether regions burn. Kathy uttered a quavering sigh and
fought to contain her body's sinful desires.

Her heart pounded. That seemed its normal state now around Melissa.
Most of the time, she lived in fear of what her daughter would do next.
When she wasn't fearful, she was consumed with unholy lust.

She swallowed, her throat tight, and fumbled for the glasses on the
nightstand. She jammed them onto her face as she stood.

Through the large, owl-like lenses of her silver-framed glasses,
everything swam into terrible clarity. Terrible because nothing seemed
hers anymore. Her daughter, the house, even her now strangely distant
husband.

She turned her head and looked forlornly at the empty bed. James had
already left for work. She had no idea whether he had even tried to
rouse her.

Falling asleep was like falling into a dark, bottomless pit, with only
her own torrid and sleazy thoughts to keep her company. She couldn't
dignify them by calling them dreams. To her, they were dirty and
obscene, horrible things that no decent Christian should be
entertaining.

And yet they set her sex aflame with unrequited desire, so powerful
that her body could not help but respond to them. They sent her into
paroxysms of pleasure that fogged her mind and made her question her
own beliefs.

Kathy swallowed hard and headed into the bathroom. She shed her
nightgown and hesitated before the mirror, squeezing her eyes closed
and turning her head. She didn't want to look at herself.

It was not as if she needed to see her body. She knew her own body far
too intimately now. She was aware of every curve, of every nuance. She
knew things about it that she had ignored because it was not proper to
think of such things. In the back of her mind, she knew James thought
about them, but that was proper. They were wedded in holy matrimony. It
was her duty to allow him to think of her in this way, so long as it
was kept behind the closed doors of the bedroom.

Kathy was panting, her pussy aching again. She whimpered and yanked the
bathrobe from the hook behind the door, shaking with the need to get it
around herself and hide her body.

The bottom edge of the robe was ragged and frayed, little bits of
thread hanging in lose tendrils. She flushed with embarrassment, having
forgotten that Melissa had made her cut the robe short the day before.
The bottom edge came up to the tops of her thighs, only barely hiding
her sex.

She looked down at herself. Her forty-something body was only starting
to show some of her age. The thighs were a bit thick, but her legs were
long and graceful, so it was hardly noticeable. The plumpness around
her waist was offset by the heaviness of her bosom and the luxurious
fall of hair.

She wished she could wear more. It had been a few days now since she
had last worn underwear. Bras made her nipples tingle until it drove
her mad. Panties made her pussy grow hot and wet and rise in unbidden
pleasure, filling her mind with lustful thoughts. It was a choice
between modesty and chastity.

Kathy raised her eyes and took a few deep breaths in a vain attempt to
calm herself. She wandered down the stairs. Her heart thumped the
closer she crept towards the kitchen.

Melissa had taken to making her own breakfast in the mornings. It was a
mixed blessing. Kathy did not have to work with Melissa's icy gaze at
her back, ever-fearful that Melissa might reach into her mind and make
her do something to further shame herself. But the cruel words that
Melissa had spoken when Kathy had asked her why ("because I want as
little from you anymore as possible") hurt her far more than any sexual
mortification could.

Kathy pushed open the door with a trembling hand.

Melissa was, in many ways, her mother in miniature. The same wavy
tresses of honey-brown hair, the same heavy yet well-rounded breasts,
the same long legs. The eyes, however, a deep ocean blue, were
quintessentially her father's.

Yet as familiar as she seemed, she was so horribly alien to Kathy that
it was as if some other being -- some other /beast/ -- sat in place of
her daughter at the table.

Kathy heard a noise at the sink. She uttered a small gasp, her liquid
green eyes widening as water streamed from the unattended spigot into a
hovering glass. The handle abruptly flipped back down and halted the
water. The now full glass floated across the room and set itself down
beside Melissa's plate.

Kathy shuddered. Somehow, that power scared her more than Melissa's
ability to slip into her head.

Melissa finally looked up. Her eyes fixed an icicle-sharp gaze on her
mother. Light flashed against gold at her bosom. "Stop that."

Kathy could not respond at first. Her eyes were drawn to the
pentacle-shaped pendant that hung from its slim chain around Melissa's
neck. She remembered the shock and horror she had felt when she had
first seen Melissa with that blasphemous object, right after having
come home from her sleepover with Susan Radson and Ann Went.

She had heard rumors that Susan and Ann were into the occult. She had
hoped they were wrong. She had trusted her daughter not to associate
with such a blatantly un-Christian fellowship.

When she finally found her voice again, it quavered despite her best
attempts to steady it. "S-stop what, dear?"

Melissa picked up the glass. "Stop acting as if you think I'm about to
recreate a scene out of /Carrie/ and start throwing knives through the
air at you."

Having never seen such a horrible movie, Kathy did not know the exact
reference, but she could guess. "I'm sorry, Melissa," she said in a
sheepish voice. "I'll ... I'll try not to do it again."

Melissa took a drink of water and stabbed at the remainder of a sausage
on her plate. "So, mother dearest," Melissa said. One corner of her
mouth twitched upwards. She let go of the glass, letting it hover in
mid-air. "Scared of me?"

Kathy could only stare, not knowing what the "right" answer was.

Melissa's eyes flashed. "I hope you are, actually."

Kathy was surprised, though she realized she should not be. She
understood so little of her daughter anymore, ever since she came home
last Saturday so changed.

It had only been a week. Yet it seemed like she had suffered for an
eternity.

"But you just said ..."

"I said I wasn't going to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone,
mother, really. I just want to settle the score."

"Settle the ... but ... but what do you have to settle with me?"

Melissa's gaze took on an icy hardness that sent a chill down Kathy's
spine. At the same time, however, heat grew in Kathy's pussy. She
whimpered and stumbled backwards. Her back fetched up hard against the
wall next to the door. Her hands scrabbled against it, fingers curling
as her pussy rose in terrible, unwanted pleasure.

"Sit down," Melissa said as the water glass floated down to the table.
The chair opposite her slid out from under the table with a small
shriek against the hardwood floor.

Kathy felt the stimulation abate somewhat, leaving her sex feeling achy
and unsatisfied. The fact that her mind flirted with the desire to
consummate the pleasure herself made her cheeks pink with shame.

Kathy's fear mounted as she took the proffered seat, sitting down
tentatively as if in the belief that a chair moved into place for her
telekinetically would somehow taint her with the same evil that had
consumed her daughter. What scared her more was the fact that each time
she looked at Melissa, she seemed less her fifteen year old daughter
and more a horrible demon bent on the destruction of her family.

Kathy settled her hands into her lap, only to realize that placed them
too close to her sex and thus to temptation. She placed them on the
table instead.

Melissa's smile widened, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "No. Put them in
your lap instead."

Kathy gave her daughter a stricken look. "Wh-why?"

"Because it's easier that way if I want to make you masturbate."

Kathy flinched in revulsion just as much as her pussy grew hot and
steamy. Her legs parted as if in anticipation. Whimpering softly, she
lowered her hands and placed them on her quivering thighs. "Why are you
doing these things to me, Melissa?"

Melissa paused to chew on her last piece of sausage, moving with
exaggerated care as if to prolong her mother's emotional torture. "I
told you, already. I'm just settling the score. I'm doing that with all
the people that have screwed me over."

"I-I don't understand. What have I done to you to deserve this? Please
.... I ..."

She fell silent when Melissa's fork clattered to the plate with a loud
report.

Kathy shrank at Melissa's stare. At the same time, she started to pant.
Her arousal rose to painful levels. "Wh-what are you d-doing?" she
moaned in a barely audible voice. "Why a-are you making me ..."

"Shut up."

Kathy's mouth snapped closed. Her eyes were liquid with unshed tears.

"This is all your fault, mother."

Kathy looked on in both fear and confusion.

Melissa snorted in derisive laughter. "You don't get it, do you? Do
you?!"

"P-please, Melissa," Kathy croaked in a husky voice. "Please ..."

"Don't beg me. I don't want to hear begging from you."

"I-I'm sorry. I just don't understand. I ... uhh ... p-please, if
something's wrong, if y-you're in trouble ... uhhn ... if ... n-no ..."

Melissa's lips curled into an evil smile. Kathy panted with deep,
shivering lust. Wet sounds rose from between her thighs as fingers slid
helplessly over swollen, aroused flesh.

"Why am I doing things like this to you?" Melissa said in a mocking
tone of voice. "Maybe I want to associate my punishment with something
your body craves so you'll crave the punishment just as much."

Kathy shook her head, averting her eyes. Her hand moved with a will of
its own, stroking her sopping slit, her thighs clenching as she rose.
"I ... I-I don't crave ..."

"Stop it. Stop denying it, okay? I'm tired of hearing the stupid
religious line from you!"

Kathy whimpered. Her pussy strained for release.

"You see, that's what this Power has taught me. That everyone craves
it. That's how I control someone. That's how I can take someone and
make them into a puppet if I want."

Kathy started thrusting her fingers into her cunt. Her free hand
reached under her robe and played with her hardened, erect nipple.
"S-stop it, please," she begged.

"The more you beg me to stop, mother, the more I want to do it to you.
It's a huge rush, you know, having all this control. /Finally/ having
all this control. I didn't have any control in my life at all before
this, thanks to you."

"B-but I ..."

Melissa shot to her feet, the chair clattering to the floor loudly
behind her. "/Shut up!!/"

Kathy mewled her distress. Her fingers pumped faster into her pussy,
which strained so hard at the edge of orgasm that stars flickered at
the edges of her vision.

"No place was good enough for you, was it?!" Melissa shouted, her eyes
blazing with icy fury. "No place was /holy/ enough for you, was it? You
always feared some sort of bad influence on your delicate flower of a
daughter."

"I ... only wanted ... to protect ... you ..." Kathy panted. Her legs
were splayed wide over the chair, moisture from her pussy pooling under
her. Her body trembled hard enough to make the uneven legs of the chair
rattle against the hardwood.

Melissa sneered in derision. "Oh, well, you wanted to protect me. Yeah,
that makes it all okay, doesn't it? You decided that I needed this
protection soon as I hit puberty. So you 'protect' me by uprooting me
once a year and move someplace else, right after I finally manage to
make a few friends and not feel so alone. /Just so I can do it all over
again!/"

Tears trickled down Kathy's cheeks. "Melissa ... p-please ... let me
.... l-let ..."

"Let you /cum?/ Is that what you want to do, dear mother? Is that the
word that has such a hard time passing those righteous lips of yours?
Sure. I'll do that for you."

Kathy's hips jerked violently back in her seat and she cried out as her
pussy exploded. Hot fluid gushed from her slit and hit the floor with a
splash. Her fingers pressed hard against her clit, her pussy pulsing so
hard she could feel it against her hand.

Kathy's fingers kept stroking her slit, completely of its own volition.
Her climax continued unabated, the hard throbbing radiating up into
her. Her whole body seemed to spasm, her nipples pulsing in the same
rhythm.

Melissa giggled. "Well ... you said you wanted to cum. You never said
you wanted it to stop."

Kathy writhed helplessly, panting so hard it sounded as if she were
gasping for breath. Her orgasm took over her body, driving out all
other thoughts from her head. Her eyes swam as she grew lightheaded.
She swayed, her hand still mindlessly stroking her slit as she hovered
near the edge of passing out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure.

"Stop."

Kathy's hands fell away from her pussy and her breast. She grabbed the
edge of the table to steady her. She trembled, her eyes downcast as she
fought to catch her breath. A terrible ache settled into her pussy,
terrible both for the reminder of what her daughter had made her do,
and for the lingering craving for more that it left.

"You still don't understand. You still don't get it."

Kathy was unable to respond. Her orgasm had faded, her body tamed for
now, but her mind had rebelled. Melissa had flooded her with intense
images of wanton lust and sexual abandon. She saw a thick cock in her
pussy. Or one in her mouth. Or one sliding between her big boobs.

Melissa stepped away from the table. The chair that had fallen behind
her righted itself.

"M-Melissa ... please ... d-don't leave me like this," Kathy begged,
shivering as she lost the struggle against her erotic thoughts. Her
body responded, her nipples growing hard again, her pussy steaming.

"I have to get to school, mother," Melissa said disdainfully. "You'll
just have to take care of it yourself. Just like last time. I'm sure
he'll like another go at you."

Kathy shuddered and uttered a deep sigh of both desperation and lust.
Her cheeks burned in shame at her weakness. Despite what Melissa was
doing to her, she believed she should have been stronger. "Please ...
n-not Gary again ... please, let me ..."

Melissa laughed. "What's the matter, mother? Don't want to thank him
for all the jobs he did for us? You always stiffed him on the tip
anyway."

Kathy mewled in distress. "L-let me at least d-do it with your father
instead ..."

"What, and reward him for going along with your stupid little
delusions?! No chance. He could have stopped you. He could have put his
foot down and said that moving would be too disruptive for me. But he
said nothing. He just went along with everything you ever wanted, just
because he didn't want you flying into hysterics just like you always
did when you didn't get your way!"

Kathy moaned and trembled. She had no more words for her daughter. Now
she struggled with her own desires, the ones that rose up not at
Melissa's bidding, but from the depths of her own mind. Her own
fantasies, carefully buried away as she felt any good Christian would
do, were bubbling to the surface. Melissa's repeated assaults against
her mind were snapping the chains that had been carefully wrapped
around her baser wants.

"I have to get to school," Melissa said in a lower voice, her smile
fading now. She paused and added in a lower voice, "Stop trying to pit
yourself against me, and I'll ease up on you, okay?"

But Kathy was not willing to give up her hold on the only thing that
she understood, the only thing that made any sense to her. "Melissa ...
y-you're ... you're possessed ... that has to be it ... that pendant
...."

Melissa's hand rose to the pendant and cradled it lovingly. "That's
your problem, mother. You can't accept the idea that I took this Power
myself. It was offered to me and I took it. Willingly. No one possessed
me as you so put it."

"Susan ... Susan and Ann put you up to this ..."

Melissa laughed. "Well, you know, in a way, you're right. Only they
thought they were going to humiliate me. A little prank on the misfit
girl. But guess what? It blew up in their faces. I got this Power, and
I got back at them. I'm still getting back at them. They have a long
way to go before they've made it up to me!"

Kathy gave her daughter a stricken look, even as her eyes smoldered
with aching lust. "No, Melissa, don't hurt anyone! Please don't hurt
anyone!"

"Hurt? You don't know anything about hurt!"

Kathy squirmed in her seat as more moisture dripped from her cunt onto
the chair.

Melissa smirked. "Well, maybe you do, in a way. But then again, what
you did to me doesn't even hold a candle to what those two little cunts
did. But just maybe I think you have a shot of understanding what you
did wrong. I guess I owe you at least that much. I suppose ..."

Melissa stopped herself when she realized she was rambling. Her fingers
played with the pendant, flicking it idly as she watched her mother
writhe in the chair. She took a slow, deep breath and let it go.

"Go get Gary to give you a nice fuck," Melissa said in a cool voice.
"Maybe I'll even let you put on underwear again after I get home from
school."

Before her mother could say another word, Melissa turned on her heel
and dashed out of the kitchen before she could have any second
thoughts.



Heather Sovert sighed, tapping the pen against her chin as she
contemplated the answer to the next question. She did a half-roll to
one side and ran a hand through her flaming red hair to brush it out of
her subdued gray-green eyes before letting herself flop back onto her
stomach. Almost involuntarily, she looked up.

Across the room, her little sister Melinda slept. The blanket was
wrapped around her like a cocoon, and she lay curled with her knees
drawn up.

Heather fixed her eyes on Melinda. She could see where one side rose
and fell with her sister's breath. Rusty brown hair lay strewn
haphazardly about pillow and blanket.

Her eyes flicked to the clock on the stand next to Melinda's bed. It
was still fifteen minutes before Melinda would awaken.

Heather dropped her pen to the notebook before her. She wanted to pull
her eyes back down to the textbook astride it, but they remained locked
on her little sister. It was only when she felt a tingling in her sex
and nipples that she tore her eyes away.

She willed herself to concentrate on the exercise in the textbook. Her
bare feet idly thumped in turn against the pillow at the head of the
bed. But the next answer would not come to her.

Her eyes rose again. She had purposely left some homework undone the
night before to give her an excuse to work on something that morning.
She believed if she distracted herself enough with some other activity,
she would have an excuse not to interact with her sister at all. So
far, it was not working.

/She's so vulnerable,/ Heather thought. /So sweet. So pretty. So .../

Heather swallowed. The tingling that had been teasing her now settled
into her sex. A gentle warmth spread through her pussy, and her nipples
grew taut under her bra.

"God, no," she murmured, dropping her face to the book and breathing
into the page for a few moments, hoping the flame of desire would fade
on its own.

It wasn't getting any better. It was worse than it had been when Nyssa
had first arrived. She curled a hand into a fist and thumped it against
the mattress in a fruitless gesture. She uttered a long sigh.

It had all started with the House at the end of the street. The power
there had forced her into a sexual tryst with Melinda, and had left
Heather with a lingering desire for her. Yet she had it under control
until Nyssa had arrived.

Nyssa Neris had been the school nurse at the start of the semester.
Only she had been something else, something bent on enslaving all the
students at Haven High as a means of paving the way for the Darkness.
Her mere presence had been enough to magnify Heather's desires. She
enslaved Heather, and then made Heather enslave Melinda.

That had ended when Nyssa was defeated. Yet her parting words had
suggested that anyone that had been under her thrall had been
permanently affected in some way. Heather had hoped that she had not
been in Nyssa's thrall long enough for it to affect her. But when she
heard of the others that were still having difficulties -- like Sally
Franner, the smartest girl in the school who had been turned into an
airheaded bimbo during Nyssa's reign and still struggled to keep her
grades up -- she had started to worry.

And now, in the past week, her old desires for Melinda were back again.

Heather looked up again. It wasn't working. She couldn't concentrate on
her homework now. Memories of what she had done to Melinda flitted
through her head. Sometimes, recalling Melinda's enslavement filled her
with horror. Sometimes, like now, the images inflamed her lust.

Melinda stirred. She shuddered, and her next breath came out as a low
moan. Her chest rose and fell faster.

Heather swallowed. It was happening again. Somehow she was influencing
her sister, even in her sleep. This had been a bad idea. She looked at
the clock. There was still ten minutes to go. She couldn't get herself
to stand and nudge her sister awake. She was afraid that the close
proximity would make it all that much harder to resist her desires.

She looked around frantically as her pussy grew damp. She finally
yanked a page from her notebook, wadded it up, and tossed it across the
room.

The paper wad bounced off a shoulder. Melinda flinched and groaned, but
did not stir any further. Heather grabbed another page and did the same
thing. This time the wad bounced squarely off Melinda's ear.

She jerked awake. "Huh ...?"

For effect, Heather wadded another paper and launched it just as
Melinda rolled over and sat up. It bounced off her forehead.

"What the hell?! Quit it, Heather!"

"Oops, sorry, I was aiming for the wastepaper basket and must've
missed," Heather said with a smirk.

"Yeah, right, tell me another one! The basket is on the other side of
the room, bubblehead."

Heather was about to retort when the blanket fell away from Melinda's
chest. Melinda's gown had come open during the night, and Heather was
now staring at Melinda's perfectly round, pert breasts. The nipples
were raised, two small points of dark, erect flesh, the areolae around
them slightly puckered.

Melinda's breasts were larger now than they had been during the summer,
Heather was sure of it. Melinda had been a late bloomer, but now her
body was playing catch-up. Even her waist and hips seemed to have taken
on more feminine curves.

Though with what had happened with the House and then Nyssa, Melinda's
sexual experience was far beyond her chronological age of fourteen. It
was the same for all of them.

"What are you looking at?" Melinda demanded.

Heather blinked. "Nothing."

Melinda's eyes widened. "You're doing it again!"

Guilt made Heather shiver, but the older sister persona made her
indignant. "Doing what again, runt?"

Melinda blushed. "Oh, so you're going to deny it, is that it?"

Heather flushed with pleasure as her sister became increasingly
flustered. She tried to ignore it, as it only fueled her desire. "Deny
what?"

"Stop it!"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to stop!" Heather lied. "Look, Melinda,
either shit or get off the pot. I have better things to do."

Heather tried to look away, but Melinda made it impossible when she
threw back the covers and got out of bed. "Listen, Miss Big Bossy
Bubblehead, I don't need this, okay? I had enough of it before, when
N-Nyssa was around."

Melinda still shuddered when she thought of or mentioned Nyssa.

Heather tried to voice words of further denial, but they would not be
summoned to her lips. Instead, she could only stare at the bare apex of
Melinda's sex where it peeked out from behind the folds of the
nightgown.

Melinda's skin flushed, and she shivered. "S-stop staring at me like
that."

"I'm not ... you're the one not wearing panties, Melinda."

"I didn't know I needed your approval," Melinda retorted, though her
voice was weak.

"And just when did you stop wearing panties to bed?"

"I-I thought it was more comfortable this way, that's all."

Heather snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Well, I didn't do this to make you stare at me like that!" Melinda
said shrilly.

"Keep it down, runt, okay? You want Mom and Dad to hear?"

The two of them knew this was an empty threat. Penny Sovert had shown
them how far she had fallen back into the Darkness after Nyssa. She
would not have minded at all if Heather and Melinda engaged in hot sex
every morning and evening. And their father was oblivious to
everything, thanks to whatever influence Penny had over him.

"Then stop it," Melinda said in a husky voice. "Stop making me feel
this way."

Moisture glistened in Melinda's tight pussy, her shaven labia swollen
with her arousal. Heather could even just make out Melinda's clit. Her
own pussy grew hot, and when she moved her legs, she could feel that
her panties were already wet.

"I'm trying, Melinda," Heather finally said.

"You're not trying hard enough!"

"Then give me a hand, please. Wear panties to bed. Stop parading around
here in the nude in the mornings."

"/And you don't?/ Yesterday you put your clothes on /dead last/. You
showered, you got your books together, you checked email, you blabbed
on the phone to Diane, and then you finally put clothes over that
stupid body of yours."

"And why didn't you tell me before that to put something on, huh?"
Heather snapped. "Or didn't you think of that because you were too busy
ogling me?"

Melinda looked mortified, her brown eyes cloudy, but she said not a
word in denial. She shivered again, and the wetness in her pussy was
more pronounced.

"Works both ways, runt," Heather muttered.

The two of them stood in silence. Melinda finally shifted her gaze to
Heather. She swallowed and panted lightly. Her nipples tingled even
with just the gentle brush of them against her nightgown as she
breathed.

For the first time, the two of them were contemplating the same thing
at the same time. But neither would broach it. Neither would make the
next move.

Finally, Melinda tried to break the spell. She wrenched her gaze away
and turned towards the bathroom. "I need a shower," she murmured.

"Melinda, wait, please, maybe we should ..."

Melinda whirled around, hands balled into fists. "No, there's nothing
we should do! Nothing at all! Don't you dare get any ideas, Heather! I
don't want it!"

She practically ripped the nightgown from her body and threw it on the
bed. Heather felt another spike of arousal at the view of Melinda's
nude body just before it disappeared into the bathroom. The door closed
with a slam that made one of Heather's pop-star posters fall from the
wall.

Heather wished she could make Melinda understand. It was already too
late for Heather not to get any ideas. She already had plenty of them.

Heather rose from the bed. Her pussy was still steamy and ached
uncomfortably. Stretching to hang the picture back on its hook made it
worse as her tight jeans squeezed against her mound. She was panting
hard by the time she turned away from the wall. She sat down heavily on
the edge of her bed.

She knew she could have Melinda if she wanted. She could not make
Melinda into an obedient slave like before -- and she truly did not
want to -- but she could arouse Melinda enough to drive her nuts.

Heather thought it would not be as bad if she were in another
relationship. It didn't have to be a romantic interest, just a sexual
partner. That's all Brad really had been to her in the end. A sex
partner and a trophy.

As desperate as she was to distract herself from her thoughts of
Melinda, she had tried to get back with him, only to find out that he
was going with Ann Went.

/What the hell does he see in that silly cunt?/ Heather thought.

She wrapped her arms around herself. The last confrontation with the
Darkness had shown her how selfish she had acted for many of her
teenage years. But her old life had been easier to understand. Its
measure of success was very simple: be popular and be in control.

But how did she measure success against the Darkness? And her desire
and influence over Melinda, wasn't that a failing? Didn't that mean
they were trying to use the same power that they were fighting against?

Heather's gaze jerked up as the shower started. Knowing that Melinda
was inaccessible to her now did nothing to tame her lust.

Heather stretched out on the bed. She undid the belt button and yanked
down her zipper. Her hand slid under the panties and squished into hot,
wet flesh.

And in the shower, Melinda stood as Heather had so many times herself:
with one hand propping herself up against one side of the stall, and
her other hand massaging her clit between spread legs in helpless
abandon.

Their mutual cries of pleasure were lost in the rush of water of the
shower.



Richie Gardner awoke with a start, bolting upright in bed, his eyes
looking as wild as his disheveled brown hair. His gaze swept his room.
Sunlight struggled through a thick tree canopy behind the house, the
breeze stirring the dappled light against the windowpanes.

He blinked a few times and ran his fingers through his hair, wincing
and cursing when he caught a tangle. He curled the hand into a fist and
brought it down onto the mattress with an impotent thud, kicking off
the sheets at the same time. He drew his knees to his chest and wiped
his face with his hand.

/Same goddamn fucking dream/, he thought in vehement frustration.

Actually, it was not quite, but Richie was upset enough not to bother
to make the distinction anymore. Instead, it was bits and pieces that,
if brought together in the right order, might make a complete dream. It
was like doing a jigsaw puzzle while having only a tenth of the total
pieces at any one time, and then expecting to put all of them together
in his head later.

Except he didn't want to put it all together. Dreams were not his
thing. That was for that nutty girl Cassie to worry about.

"Shit," Richie declared to no one in particular as he swung his legs
over the side of the bed.

He was trying hard not to hold a grudge against her. Like Heather,
Cassie had been caught up with Nyssa through no fault of her own. Nyssa
had exploited Cassie's affection for Richie, and Cassie had come close
to enslaving him.

Yet even now, with Cassie's affections directed towards someone else,
Richie could not stop thinking that Cassie was still too weird for his
comfort.

Richie kicked at one of his sneakers with his bare foot, sending it
flipping end over end until it struck the bottom of a poster frame. The
poster -- a picture of the 2002 New York Yankees baseball team -- swung
a few times back and forth like a pendulum, then fell from its nail and
crashed to the floor.

The poster fell towards him. He viciously kicked it back, putting a
crack in the clear plastic covering.

"Fuck!" Richie declared. He looked for something else to throw, his
hands balling into fists, his freckled face screwed up in anger,
frustration, and anguish. Finally, his hands uncurled and he dropped
his face into them, sighing through his fingers.

/I'm trying, dammit. I'm really trying,/ he lamented.

Richie had spent the last two weeks since being freed from Nyssa trying
to find his way again. The problem was, he was not sure he ever had it
in the first place. Sometimes he resented Cassie for that as well. She
was the one that had helped free him and his fellow Harbingers from
Nyssa's control.

He occasionally wondered if it would have been easier to remain
enslaved. It would have taken away the need to shoulder this
responsibility.

No, he didn't want the power. He had to keep telling himself that. If
he told himself that enough times, maybe he would start believing it.
It didn't matter anyway. It had been taken away from him, and it was
never coming back.

Except ...

He shook his head violently. /Get out of my head, dammit!/

But it was impossible not to think of someone he was forced to see
every day in school. He could not look at Linda Davis and not remember
what he had done to her. He could not ignore the tingle of excitement
it gave him. Nor could he ignore the urge to try it again, to see if he
had any lingering influence, like he had heard happened to others under
Nyssa's control.

Richie sighed and glanced at the clock. He suddenly snatched it off the
nightstand and held it inches from his now wide and staring eyes.
"Huh?? It's almost ... aw, /FUCK!/"

Richie dropped the clock to the night table. He shot to his feet and
looked around in a panic. He had ten minutes before the school bus
would arrive.

"What the fuck?! Why didn't I wake up with the alarm? Why the fuck
didn't Mom get me up?? /MOM!!/"

Richie ran from his room, still clad in only his briefs. He dashed down
the hall to the master bedroom and peered inside. The bed was made and
there was no sign of Sandra Gardner. Richie ran to the railing
overlooking the living room below and bellowed again, "/MOM!!/"

Not a sound greeted him, save for a passing car in the street outside.

Richie pounded a fist against the railing and dashed back into his
bedroom, fuming. His mother had left early for work. Again.

He believed he had plenty of reason to be angry with his mother. After
working all day, she would come home only long enough to freshen up
before leaving again. She used to call them "dates," but even that
pretension was dropped now. Both of them knew the truth, that she was
going out to get laid and laid good.

It mattered not to Richie that she was simply feeding a sexual
addiction that the Darkness in Haven had instilled in her. She had told
Richie openly that she had accepted this rather than take its power for
herself. Thus he felt she had made her own stupid decisions, and he
could not be expected to have any sympathy for her.

Now his anger was edging over into hatred. At least before she had been
predictable. He would know when she was there and when she wasn't. Now
her hours were erratic, and he had no idea from day to day where she
would be.

Ironically, it actually gave her more time at home with Richie,
something he had wanted before the House. Now he wanted nothing more to
do with her.

Richie's thoughts remained dark as he threw on some clothes and grabbed
his backpack. He was grateful for a trigger for his pent-up rage.
Sometimes, when he was alone in his room, he could sense the images
from his broken, repetitive dream come back to him, as if they had a
life of their own.

All he could discern was that a man and a woman were arguing. It looked
like they were in his room, but the room was arranged differently, and
not even like a bedroom. It was more like an office. He was cheating on
her, or something like that. She wanted to leave him, and he was trying
to persuade her into staying. She might have thrown something at him at
one point, he wasn't sure.

Richie slung the backpack viciously over his shoulder and stormed out
of the room when the thoughts of his dream came back to him despite his
fury. As soon as he crossed the threshold, the images from his dreams
vanished from his head.



Jason Conner stared out of the window of the school bus. His eyes were
unfocused, his gaze sliding over the landscape as it rattled by. A loud
ripping sound made the floor of the bus vibrate under his feet as the
driver grinded the gears on a turn. "Another Bradley fart," someone
said, setting off a wave of laughter.

"Shaddap and pipe down back there!" rasped the elderly driver Mr.
Bradley. This only set off the students into louder peals of mirth.

Jason barely noticed. As the bus turned onto the avenue, stands of
trees difted alongside the bus, their canopies glowing in red-gold fall
splendor.

Jason hardly paid attention to the other students anymore, save for
looking out for more Dark Auras. That's what he and his fellow
Harbingers called the black miasma that surrounded those that have been
touched by the Darkness. Only they could see it.

He, Richie, Heather, and Melinda could because they were given the
power directly by Mara, the woman whose spirit had inhabited the House.
They were the original Harbingers, a name they coined for themselves.
Cassie and Ned could see it because they had been saved from the
Darkness by direct intervention. Becky could as well, but she would
have nothing to do with the rest of them anymore once she had
reconciled with her boyfriend.

Jason sighed and turned his head from the window. Up ahead, Richie's
house came into view from around the bend. He glanced at the others on
the bus, as if acknowledging their presence only now.

Of all of the Harbingers, he had been the most disappointed following
Nyssa's departure. He had hoped that the others that had been taken
under Nyssa's thrall -- Frank, James, Sally, Kathy, Irene, just to name
a few -- would come out of it with the same ability. Instead, they were
just as ignorant of it as before.

It wasn't enough to simply be freed of the Darkness' control. To be
able to see the Dark Auras, the person had to be directly wrenched from
that control. Many of the others had simply been released by Nyssa
voluntarily when she could no longer maintain her power.

Jason turned his gaze away from the others with disdain. Even though
the lot of them could not see the Auras, he thought that having had so
many fellow students act very oddly over the course of two weeks would
alert them that something was wrong at Haven High. Instead, they
reverted to being typical teenagers again, and turned their attention
to what they deemed was far more important: keeping up with the latest
fashions and struggling to remain popular.

Jason sometimes wished /he/ was allowed to be a typical teenager again.

He peered through the windshield as the bus swayed and grinded its way
to the curb in front of Richie's house and sighed. /Oh, man, not
again/.

No one was waiting to greet the bus as it pulled to a stop. The doors
popped up, and Mr. Bradley muttered a curse under his breath.

"Stop at the wrong house again, Mr. Bradley?" someone in the back
chimed, setting off a wave of laughter.

"Shaddap!" The old man wrenched the door control. The doors squealed as
they began to close.

"Hey! Hey, wait up! Stop, you stupid old ...!"

"Mr. Bradley, here he comes!" Jason stated loudly to cover his friend's
expletive.

The driver muttered darkly and yanked at the control again, muttering
another curse when it stuck and he had to use two hands to move the
lever. The doors shrieked open. A panting Richie climbed on.

"Thanks, man," Richie said, giving Jason a high-five before he plopped
into a seat across the aisle. The seat immediately next to Jason was
empty, but that was "reserved." Even the other students respected it.
As gossipy as the lot was, they were aware of most of the relationships
that were in force at the moment. One could guess from a partially
filled bus which students had significant others that had not boarded
yet from the odd pattern of empty seats.

"You're a mess," Jason commented mildly.

"Yeah, I know. Overslept."

"That's the third time that's happened."

Richie rolled his eyes. "You tryin' for the job of my mother or
somethin'?"

Jason sensed a bitterness in his friend's voice that was beyond just
the usual barb. And even his "usual" barbs were more restrained these
days. He wondered if the others noticed. They were ready to toss Richie
out of the Harbingers once they had learned what he had done.

Richie was the only one of them to voluntarily give himself over to
Nyssa's control -- even after having been almost enslaved himself by
Cassie -- just so he could have some power to himself. He had promptly
used it against his history teacher Linda Davis, turning her into his
sex slave.

"Just want to know if something's wrong, that's all," Jason said.

"Stop worrying about me, 'kay? I'm fine."

"Come on, Richie, you know what the standard procedure is now for this
sort of thing."

Richie shook his head. "What the fuck, Jason? You're tryin' to turn
this thing into some kinda freakin' corporation or something?"

Even though Richie was trying hard to temper his insults, it did little
for his stubbornness. Jason was always having to force himself to be
patient with Richie, but he was approaching his limit. "Look, I've
explained this before. We missed too many things last time with Nyssa,
things that were obvious. We made too many foolish assumptions. I don't
want to fall into that trap again. So if something is up with you,
Richie, you need to tell us."

Richie gave Jason an annoyed look, but bit back a rejoinder. "Look,
it's nothing, okay? Just having trouble sleeping sometimes. Has nothing
to do with ..."

He stopped when the bus lurched to a stop on the next block. Heather
and Melinda climbed on.

Jason looked over to them in the hopes that things would be back to
normal, though he knew it to be a false hope. If it had not happened in
two weeks, it wasn't going to happen without some prompting. And sure
enough, both were starkly silent towards each other.

Melinda dashed over to the empty seat beside Jason, as if afraid
Heather might take it. She dropped her backpack between her legs,
wrapped an arm around Jason, and drew herself close to him. Jason felt
her tremble.

/Now what?/ Jason thought.

Melinda had been rather clingy since Nyssa. Jason had actually welcomed
it at first. Having been cut off from her when she had been enslaved by
Heather, he had enjoyed the renewed contact and, to be honest, the
renewed opportunities for sex with her.

Melinda had been a lot more aggressive in her sexual encounters with
him. It had surprised him at first, but he did little to resist it. It
was as if it seemed more natural to him. He was perfectly willing to be
more submissive to her. It made it harder for him to use their sessions
as a means of finding out what was really wrong between her and
Heather.

Jason slipped an arm around Melinda, though what he initially had
thought to say to her was forgotten when the bus pulled away and drove
past a white van. Only now did he note that the van had been parked
directly before the Sovert house. Jason followed it with his eyes and
caught the name "Suburban Digital CableCo" emblazoned on the side.

He blinked and looked towards Heather. "Wait ... are you guys getting
broadband?"

"Yes, finally!" Melinda piped.

"Melinda, it's not that great, and I already told you why," Heather
said in an exasperated voice. "Stop being so dense."

"Fine. You don't have to use it then. But at least now I can do stuff
online when you're yakking away to your bubblehead friends on the
phone."

"So why is this not a good thing?" Jason asked.

"Because we're getting it only so Dad can start working from home all
the time now," Heather said in irritation.

"Your Dad? What exactly does he do?"

"He's the director of IT for a small business downtown."

Jason looked surprised. "Really? How come you never told me that?"

Richie snorted. "And have you go geek-out with him every time you come
over? Yeah, sure, that'll do yer sex life something good, huh?"

Melinda rolled her eyes, but said nothing in denial. Her arm tightened
around Jason a bit more, which confirmed Richie's accurate perception.

"Well, uh, never mind that," Jason said. He didn't feel quite as
embarrassed talking about sexual matters so openly anymore, but he did
prefer that his relationship with Melinda was not discussed openly.
"Okay, yeah, I see what you mean. We can't meet at your house anymore."

"Starting Monday, anyway. He went into the office today, since he
wasn't sure how long it would take them to set it up," said Heather.

"So can we use it today?"

"Aw, man, it's a Friday, for fuck's sake," Richie complained. "I don't
wanna be in some meeting."

"We have to, Richie, now that we know who the subject of Cassie's dream
is."

Heather looked perplexed. "We do?"

"Yeah. Ned told me earlier in the week when he saw her Aura. It's
Melissa Hendell."

Heather's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Before Jason could
make note of her reaction, Richie suddenly snorted. "Yer joking!"

Jason turned to him. "What, you know her?"

"Well, yeah, sorta. She's a soph, same as us. Kinda out there. Real
spacey type. She gets made fun of a lot."

"Oh, out there, huh?" Melinda snapped. "Like Cassie, right?"

"Hey, cool yer jets, 'kay? I don't make fun of her. I don't do that to
girls."

"Glad to see we get special treatment from you. We're /sooo/ happy to
hear that."

Richie fumed, but rather than hurtle a barb back, he just thumped a
fist against his thigh and looked out the window, ignoring the rest of
them.

Jason wished Melinda would not egg him on like that. Melinda always
harbored a dislike for Richie, but it seemed like she let into him at
the least bit of provocation anymore. He looked at Heather, as if
looking for clues in her face. She gave him a forlorn look in return.

"Anyway, we need to use this last meeting to try and figure out
someplace else to meet," said Jason. "With your place no longer
available, it's going to make things difficult."

"Diane said she would find out if we could meet at her place," Heather
said.

"That's on the side of town, Heather," Melinda said in irritation.

"Well, so's our place to her. And you know something, runt? I'd love
the excuse to stay away from our house. I don't care about the
broadband connection. You feel the same way, you know you do."

Melinda hesitated. Her eyes shimmered, and Jason felt her tremble
again. "Yeah," she finally said softly.

It pained Jason to think how estranged both Heather and Melinda were
now from their mother. They had even stopped talking about trying to
find out what she did at the Li'l Missy Inn. Penny worked there as a
managerial assistant, or so was the claim. But Mara had already
mentioned that the Inn was at the junction of several lines of force
and may be the focus of the Darkness' power.

"Jason, do you know if Melissa has done anything to anyone?" Heather
asked.

"Well, we haven't seen anyone else with Auras yet. Cassie hasn't had
any more dreams about her."

"That's good, isn't it? It means that she's been quiet?"

"I'm not sure, actually."

"I don't understand. I thought Cassie could see this stuff."

Cassie had the ability to see into other people's lives through her
dreams. She could not predict the future, she could only peer into the
present. It was still a powerful ability, as it gave them insights into
their adversaries during the trouble with Nyssa.

"She can explain it better than I can when we meet later," said Jason.
"What about you, Heather? You picking up anything?"

Heather sighed and shook her head. Cassie was not able to see the
future, but supposedly Heather could. In her case, however, it was more
vague. Just general feelings that something was going to happen, and
actual imagery was fleeting or came to her only very close to the
event. She had had precognitive flashes about her own fall to Nyssa and
she had not learned how to interpret them enough to prevent it.

"Good!" Melinda piped.

Heather frowned. "What are you babbling about now?"

"You only seem to know when bad things are going to happen to your
friends. Like you did when Cassie was going to take Richie."

Richie shuffled his feet. He turned his attention back to the others,
but had his arms folded tightly across his chest.

"So we know none of us are in danger now, right?" Melinda said, voicing
it almost as a demand rather than a question.

"I don't know, Melinda. I don't know enough about this to tell you one
way or the other."

Melinda looked like she wanted to yell at her big sister again.
Instead, she said quietly to Jason, "I just don't want this to be Nyssa
all over again."

Jason caught the edge of fear to Melinda's voice. "It's okay, it won't
be. We're going to be more careful about things this time. We're not
going to take anything at face value."

They all lapsed into silence for the rest of the trip. Jason understood
the problem, for he felt the same way. They had all hoped not to be
confronted with another challenge this close on the heels of Nyssa's
defeat.

And now they had another problem to deal with: finding a place for the
Harbingers to meet. Jason felt this may prove more daunting than
anything the Darkness could throw at them.
<1st attachment end>


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