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From: A Strange Geek <astraYOURngegeek@comMINDcast.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Melissa's Rite 02/31 (mf mF MF ff fF fsolo teen inc oral voy mc nc toys humil magic)
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<1st attachment, "Chapter02.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: 2 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/Chapter02.html



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

When the lanky, dark-haired girl disembarked onto the graveled parking
lot of Haven High, she lifted her deep brown eyes and swept her gaze
from one end of the lot to the other. She stepped into the shade of the
bus to try and cut down the glare of the morning sun, but she had to
squint anyway as she tried to find the others.

Diane Woodrow sighed when she barely caught sight of Heather tagging
along behind the others, just seconds before they disappeared into the
school building under the watchful eye of Vice Principal Seeger.

She pulled the strap of her satchel further up her shoulder and emerged
into the sunlight. She tilted her head and ran her fingers through her
long, straight black hair, then let it fall behind her.

She missed the short meetings that her fellow Harbingers used to have
in the parking lot each morning. But in the wake of Nyssa, it was
deemed too dangerous to do anything out in the open at Haven High, not
with the Principal herself, Laura Bendon, still under the Darkness'
sway.

Diane looked around. There were some other faculty members drifting
about the parking lot, looking critically at the other students as they
filed towards the school's east entrance. She witnessed one break up a
gaggle of girls that had congregated near one of the buses.

She stopped and stared at the instructor for a moment, narrowing her
eyes and shading them from the sun with her hand. She was trying to see
if a Dark Aura would appear around him.

She still did not know if she could see them. Laura Bendon was the only
one that they knew for sure still had one, and she rarely appeared
outside her office anymore. Diane was too scared of her to manufacture
a reason to go see her, and the others thought it was too dangerous. If
anything, Jason had suggested that everyone try to toe the line as much
as possible to avoid receiving detention or any other disciplinary
action.

Diane sighed and gave up, lowering her hand. It was frustrating not
knowing whether she now had the ability or not.

Diane walked up the steps and into the school. The Vice Principal eyed
her suspiciously as she passed. It was likely that Seeger -- or "Saggy
Seeger" as the students called him because of his bulldog face and
large, sagging jowls -- was told by Bendon that certain students --
namely the Harbingers -- were possible troublemakers and to keep an eye
on them.

Diane tried not to shrink at Seeger's scrutiny. Her heart raced a bit,
as it always did now when she entered the school. Without realizing it,
she hurried down the hall, as if intent on getting the day over with as
quickly as possible.

"Diane? Diane, wait up!"

She skidded to a halt and turned. "Oh! Heather, sorry, I-I didn't see
you there."

Heather jogged up to her and said in a low voice, "Listen, you got a
moment before class? I have to talk to you about something."

Heather glanced around as if checking for anyone eavesdropping. Diane's
gaze followed her friend's eyes. "Um ... yes, I have a few minutes. Is
something wrong?"

Heather gently took Diane's arm and shepherded her out of the main
corridor traffic until they were standing next to a door labeled
"Maintenance." Diane tried not to react to the touch to little avail.
Her skin flushed hot, and she swallowed and gripped the strap of the
satchel more tightly.

Heather turned to her. There was a pained look to her face. "Diane,
this is important. Jason found out who Cassie dreamed about. It's
Melissa Hendell!"

Diane blinked once. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but the memory
was not coming to her.

"Early July, just before the holiday?" Heather prompted a bit
impatiently. "That honey-haired girl in the dweeby clothing? The one we
.... we pulled that little stunt on?"

Diane's eyes widened. "Oh, /her/." She cracked a smile. "Yes, I
remember now. We got her good with that, didn't we? Wow, I never saw
someone turn that shade of red before ..."

The glare from Heather was enough to silence Diane at once. Diane
swallowed again, feeling a knot of anxiety in her stomach.

"It's not funny, Diane. You remember what Cassie said about the girl in
her dream? She just didn't fall to the Darkness, /she took some power
for herself./"

It took a moment for Diane to understand the implication, largely
because she did not really want to see it. "W-wait, you don't think ...
you don't think she'll try to get back at us or something, do you?"

"I don't know, but I wanted to warn you about her. Just in case ...
well ..."

Diane sighed. "Just in case I still can't see the Auras is what you
mean."

Heather gave Diane a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Diane."

Diane looked into Heather's lovely green-gray eyes. She could tell that
Heather was being honest with her. She could read a lot in those eyes.
She wished she had more opportunity to look into them.

But that would mean forcing herself to admit her feelings for Heather
in the first place.

Diane had some vague notion that perhaps her attraction for Heather had
somehow been caused by Nyssa, like Heather's obsession for Melinda. But
it had slowly dawned on her over the past two weeks that her feelings
had not originated with Nyssa. They had existed for long before Nyssa's
arrival. Or even before Heather got tangled up in the House.

Yet even if Nyssa had not caused her attraction to Heather, she had
known about it. She had shared that secret with Jason when he was still
in her thrall. Jason had tried to tease her about it in the hallway but
managed not to come out and say it explicitly.

A day after they finished with the Nyssa business, a teary-eyed Diane
had called Jason and begged him not to tell anyone what he knew.

"Heather, do you think I'll be able to see them?" Diane asked. "I mean,
Nyssa did try to take me, right?"

"I don't know that, either. She put you under to get you out of the
way, but she didn't really try to enslave you."

"But if I can't see them, I'm no help to any of you, am I?"

"Diane, please, don't say that ..."

"But it's true! What good am I if I can't tell you who may have been
affected by the Darkness? I'll just blunder into them without knowing
and then you'll all have to rescue me and cause you more ... huh ...?"

Heather had taken Diane's hand into her own and squeezed it gently.

Diane's lips parted. She looked into Heather's eyes again. She felt a
tiny shiver pass through her, her heart thumping.

"Diane, if you can't see the Auras, then being with us is the best
thing you can do."

Diane took a moment to find her voice again. Heather squeezed her hand
again, and she trembled. "Wh-why? What good would that do?" she asked
defiantly, though her voice was weak.

"Well, for one thing, it would let us protect you. Diane, come on,
you've been my friend for how long? You think I want to abandon you
now?"

"I-I don't know ... Things have changed so much ..."

"Yeah, I know. We don't do the same things together anymore."

"You've changed, Heather," Diane said, her voice growing husky.

"I know, but I had to, Diane. Look, don't ever tell anyone this, but
.... sometimes I actually like doing nice things for Melinda more than I
liked poking fun at her all the time." She paused and grinned. "Well
.... /sometimes/. I do still like to get a rise out of her."

Diane gave Heather a ghost of a smile. She had looked up to Heather.
She did many of the things Heather did simply because Heather did them.
And Heather had been popular. By extension, as her friend, Diane had
become popular as well.

In the days after the House, when they had drifted apart, Diane had
come to realize that the popularity had been a sham. She went from
popular to nothing almost overnight. Yet she still had feelings for
Heather. That was what had convinced her there was something more to
it.

"Heather, we didn't mean Melissa any harm," Diane said. "She must know
that. We didn't hurt her or threaten her. I mean, come on, all that
stuff we ever did to people, we didn't really mean any harm, right?"

Had what she and Heather done to Melissa been bad enough to warrant
revenge against them? Melissa had looked terribly embarrassed, but she
had not shed a single tear. In fact, she had tried to leave the scene
with as much dignity as she could muster. Surely she had known that, as
the new girl in town, she'd get a bit of a hazing from the others?

Heather was not sure how to answer. She remembered all the times she
used to tease Jason something awful. That had surely hurt him in some
way. Yet he never said anything. He never threw it in her face no
matter how upset he got. Now they were close friends, and it was as if
it had never happened.

But it did happen, and Heather felt guilty over it. But only sometimes.
She could still find it to be a source of private amusement.

Heather looked up. The crowds in the corridor were beginning to thin.
"Look, we better get to class. We're going to try to meet at my house
this afternoon. Can you come?"

"Yes, I can come."

"Good. And don't worry about whether you can see the Auras, okay?"

Heather let go of Diane's hand. Diane's heart raced anyway. "I'll try."

"Okay. I'll see you later."

Diane just nodded, not trusting her voice. She sprinted to her locker
and fetched the books she needed for her first class after homeroom.
She took a few deep breaths to calm herself. It did some good. She
still felt a tingle in her nether regions, but she could ignore it.

For once she was glad she was not on the same class rotation as
Heather.



Melissa smiled as she sashayed down the street, swinging her hips with
exaggerated movements and letting her skirt twirl about her thighs.
There was a bit of a chill to the morning, but the sun felt nice on the
black stockings that hugged her graceful legs. The heels of her shoes
clacked against the sidewalk in what to her was a satisfying symphony
of poise and sensuality.

She marveled at how only a little over a week ago, she had taken this
same walk with her shoulders hunched as if she had expected someone to
hit her. Every muscle would tense whenever she saw another of her
peers, afraid that some humiliating insult would come her way that
would make her want to run back home.

Now she walked as if daring anyone to cross her. The golden pentacle
pendant flashed in the morning sunlight. She made no attempt to hide
it. Teachers sometimes looked askance at her, or even gave her dirty
looks. It never lasted long. One look from Melissa, a smile, and
suddenly the teacher simply adored how it looked on her.

Today it would be the same with the skirt. It showed way too much thigh
to be tolerated by the dress code. She wanted to see who would call her
out on it.

It was so easy. Just a single look, and she made it happen. She could
change a thought or emotion, or make someone do something, or making
something happen within someone's body. The little things like that
were child's play to her. It made life tolerable for her in school now.
Even entertaining.

She turned off the street and headed down the short path to the stairs
of the west entrance of Haven High. Two boys near the gate stopped
their conversation to stare at her, eyes flicking over the swell of her
breasts or the smoothness of her legs. Melissa turned her head towards
them and gave them a wicked smile as she came to a stop.

"Like what you see?" Melissa said in a sultry voice.

The boys had not expected her to notice them, let alone stop and speak
to them. They exchanged an embarrassed look. Nevertheless, the bolder
of the two gave her a lopsided smile and said, "Um, yeah, I do." His
companion nodded quickly in agreement.

"Better be careful. If you look at me too long, you just might get hard
over me."

The first boy's cheeks colored, but he grinned nevertheless. "Heh,
yeah, maybe. I ... uh ... what ...??"

His mouth dropped open. His companion's eyes grew nearly as wide as his
glasses.

Suddenly both boys felt their cocks expanding quickly in their briefs.
One had to shift his weight from one foot to the other to work it free
of an awkward confinement. The other tried the same and failed, having
to resort to a tug at his belt, trying to make it look casual. He
flinched when his cock sprang from its cramped position.

In seconds, both were sporting full erections, pulsing in time with
their heartbeats. It caused an obvious bulge the crotches of their
jeans.

"And we wouldn't want that, now would we?" Melissa said in a husky
voice. She leaned forward, giving them a view into her cleavage as her
breasts dangled against her dress. "That just might make you ... cream
in your pants."

The first boy uttered a yelp and staggered until his back hit the
wrought iron fence that marked the edge of the school grounds. The
other simply curled his hands into fists and trembled. Both started
moaning softly, crimson-faced as their cocks felt as if they were being
vigorously stroked.

"Oh no, we wouldn't want that," said Melissa with an evil gleam in her
eyes. "That would be so very, very messy."

She turned and started up the stairs. As she did, she flicked a bit of
her telekinetic power at them. Their zippers were yanked down and the
buttons at the top popped open simultaneously just seconds before they
came. Their cheeks glowed in mortification as their cocks throbbed
wetly into their briefs. Several passing students gasped or made sounds
of revulsion.

Melissa left the stairs and continued through the doorway. Behind her,
she heard a girl's voice rushing towards her. "Ugh, what the fuck was
that? Disgusting! God, get me away from those creeps."

Melissa was shoved to the side. A blonde girl flashed an angry look at
her as she passed. "Get the lead out of your shoes. Silly cunt."

The smiled never left Melissa's face. She watched the girl walk ahead
of her and stop by a locker not too far from the entrance.

Melissa wandered over to her. The girl looked up and frowned. "What the
hell do you want?"

"I think you're mistaken," Melissa said.

"Huh?"

"You called me a silly cunt. That's not correct."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Look, get away from me, you
weirdo."

Melissa ignored her. "You see, a silly cunt is not a person, it's a
thing. In fact, it's yours."

The girl gasped suddenly, and she stared in surprise and horror.

Melissa smiled. "See how silly your cunt is?"

The girl swallowed and panted. Her feet slid apart. Her hips rocked
back and forth as if in a parody of intercourse. Her hand trembled,
rattling the locker door. Her eyes shimmered, both sultry and terrified
at the same time. Her mouth opened in a silent plea.

"It's so silly it just gets hot all by itself, and then cums when it
feels like it."

The girl whimpered, then moaned. She clutched at her locker door with
both hands, her hips jerking as she came. Her breath became a staccato
sigh as her pussy throbbed so intensely she could barely think.

Melissa smiled. She turned away and continued to her own locker further
down the hall. When she got there, she looked back at the blonde girl.
The girl's cheeks glowed scarlet. She hastily pulled the books for her
morning classes from the locker, still trembling from her orgasm. She
slammed it closed and hurried down the hallway.

Seconds later, she staggered to a stop and utter a strained moan. Her
hips jerked backwards again in a second orgasm. She clutched at the
lockers to stop herself from sliding to the floor. Other students
looked on with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

But a few students look on in horror. Their gaze immediate started
sweeping the hallway. One of them found Melissa, paled, and quickly
dashed away.

Melissa's smile widened. Very good. People were starting to connect the
dots. They were starting to realize that she had some sort of power
over them. Fear would allow her to keep some sort of control over those
she did not personally touch with her power. It would make her life
tolerable again at this school.

She fingered the pendant again as she closed her locker. Some of her
smile faded.

It wasn't enough. Indirect control was fine, but she wanted more than
that. Unfortunately, she had been thwarted in this effort. She had
discovered that while she could inject momentary bits of control in
people -- like with the two boys outside, or the girl that shoved her,
or the teachers to avoid getting in trouble -- complete control was
harder.

On Monday, she had stolen Ann's boyfriend Brad and make him hers. She
had made him have sex with her in front of Ann.

On Tuesday, she had taken Susan's boyfriend Sam, and did the same with
him, letting Susan simply play with herself without cumming while she
watched.

Then on Wednesday, she had tried to take Jim, the boy that Susan had
been seeing on the side. She did so, but then she lost her hold on
Brad, and some of her hold on Sam.

Thursday, the day before, she had renewed her hold on Sam, had taken
Brad again, only to lose Jim and spark rebellion from her mother.

When she had first received this Power, she had known there were
limitations. She had not understood at the time just how grating those
limitations would be. She simply could not extend her hold to everyone
she wished. She could keep only a certain amount of complete control in
place at one time, at least until she was able to bring about more
permanent changes in her victims. But those changes took time, and she
did not have the patience to do it for everyone.

Then there were Susan and Ann. She wanted to retain an iron grip on
their minds no matter what, so that limited her reach even further. She
teased them with vague promises of eventually releasing them, but she
was quickly coming to the conclusion that they would likely never have
free will ever again.

She doubted she could release them even if she wanted to. The fact that
they never escaped her control when she overextended herself was proof
to her that they were too tightly bound to her by now. She had messed
with their minds to such a degree that they could never be free of her.
Not unless she somehow lost the Power completely.

Her mother was a different story. Melissa did not control her quite
like the others, at least not all the time. Instead, she dipped into
Kathy's mind and altered her on a more basic level. It required a great
degree of finesse. Most of the work had to be done at night, through
her mother's dreams. But again, it took time that she did have to spare
for everyone.

Her fingers closed tightly around the pendant. She took a slow, deep
breath. It was more than just a piece of costume jewelry. The dark
being that had come to her when Susan and Ann had left her naked and
alone had recognized it. It had protected her from the being's wrath,
prompting it to offer her the Power instead.

And now it was in her dreams every night. It was helping her punish her
mother. It gave her insights on the subtleties of the human mind. It
showed her how to make small but permanent changes over time.

But there was more power to be tapped. Enough power that subtlety would
no longer be needed. She just had to find it. And she had a feeling who
might be able to tell her more about it.

Melissa cradled her books in her arm and headed to class.



The silence of the hallway was broken by the strident ring of the bell.
Doors opened, and students poured from their first period classes in a
torrent.

One slim boy dashed from his sophomore English class, his lace-less old
sneakers flopping against the tiled floor, barely visible under the
wide cuffs of his baggy denims.

"Hey, nosy!" a girl called out as he passed, giggling.

"Oh no, it's Nosenstein!" cackled a boy.

Another boy made pig-like snorting sounds, his friends joining in until
they all dissolved into laughter.

Ned "The Nose" Lussander did a spin on one heel, thumbed his bulbous
nose at them, and made a snorting noise back with a smirk on his face
before continuing on his way.

Ned hardly cared about the comments anymore. Up until two weeks ago,
they used to bother him a great deal. He didn't ask to have a big,
slightly misshapen nose. It was the best the surgeons could do with the
money that his parents had after that unfortunate fight, the same one
that gave him the jagged scar on one cheek.

But that was before he fell in with the Harbingers. And Cassie.

He smiled as the object of his affection appeared up ahead, having just
stepped up to her locker. Cassie Kendall wore a look on her face that
was somewhere between dreamy and thoughtful. A lot of people found this
disconcerting, and had long since branded her a weirdo since freshman
year.

Ned found it endearing instead. She looked so pretty when she was lost
in her own little world. Curly bangs of perfectly coiffed brown hair
framed an adorable oval face. An impeccably neat powder blue blouse was
wrapped about her torso, and the pleats of her matching skirt swirled
about her calves.

Ned was also a little jealous. He was interested in dreams, and he
often kept a journal of his own. He was envious of how far more
detailed and meaningful Cassie's dreams were.

Or used to be. In the past week, she had been frustrated at how lacking
in detail they were.

So lost in her own head was Cassie that she failed to note Ned standing
there. Her hands moved slowly and methodically in and out of the locker
exchanging books, operating on automatic.

"Hi," Ned finally said.

Cassie gasped and flinched in surprise, blue eyes going wide.

"Um, sorry I startled ya, babe," Ned said sheepishly.

Cassie recovered and smiled. Ned couldn't help but grin foolishly back.
He loved seeing that smile. "Oh, no, it's okay. I was just ... um,
thinking ..."

"Heh, I know that look. You finally had another good dream, huh?"

"Well ... part of a dream," said Cassie, frustration still edging her
voice. "I'm still not getting them the way I should."

"That's better'n nothin', though, right?"

"I guess, but ..."

Ned had learned to recognize when something was really troubling his
girlfriend. Her eyes would go cloudy and edge towards slate-gray in
color. It was like looking at an ocean under a cloudy sky.

At least he hoped she was his girlfriend. They hadn't actually gone out
on a date yet (mostly because he was too chicken to ask) but they spent
a great deal of time together at school and spoke on the phone a few
times. Just to be on the safe side, he never mentioned the word
"girlfriend" when talking about Cassie. That way he could avoid any
future potential disappointment.

Now Cassie's eyes shimmered as she looked up into Ned's. "To be honest,
I-I'm getting a little scared."

Ned blinked. He had not expected that. "Um, scared? Whaddaya mean?
Scared of what?"

"That my ... my ability, or whatever you call it ... is going away."

Ned snorted and waved a hand in dismissal. "Aw, c'mon. Why would that
happen? These things don't jus' get up an' walk away, ya know."

Ned actually had no idea what the "rules" behind it were. He just
wanted to calm her fears. Unfortunately, it was having little effect.

"I've read about people getting psychic powers, and then losing them
after they did something big with them," Cassie said, closing her
locker. She hugged her books to her bosom like a shield. "Maybe that's
happening with me. I helped with Nyssa ..."

"Helped? Babe, ya took her down!"

Cassie blushed and her lips quivered in a nervous smile. "But that's
what I mean, Ned. Maybe after I did that ..."

"But ya got a beat on Melissa in yer dreams."

"I might have been lucky there. And that dream got cut off abruptly,
too."

"Hey, there's gotta be some other reason fer this. Look, the others
didn't lose anything, did they?"

"They had their powers given to them for a specific purpose. Remember
the story they told you about the House over the summer?"

"Um, yeah, I do," Ned said, rubbing at his neck. That story had creeped
him out, almost as much as it did when he thought back to what he
himself had almost done with the power that Nyssa had given him before
the others rescued him. "Um ... hey, ya know, maybe the Brain can help
ya out."

Cassie giggled softly at Ned's nickname for Jason.

Encouraged, Ned smiled. "Yeah, I betcha he can tell ya something about
that. Listen, that reminds me, babe. I'm s'pposed to tell ya that we
got a meeting this afternoon at the Sovert premises."

"Oh! This afternoon?"

"Yeah. Prolly gonna talk about the latest thing to hit fair Haven and
...."

Cassie suddenly gasped and clutched more tightly at her books.

"Huh? What? Something wrong? All I was gonna say was ..."

"/Shhh!!/" Cassie grabbed Ned's arm and turned towards the lockers,
taking Ned with her.

"Hey! What ...?!"

"H-help me with this p-problem in the math book, Ned," Cassie said in a
quavering voice. Her eyes flicked to the side briefly and she shivered
as she scrambled to get one of her textbooks out. In her nervousness,
she opened her chemisty textbook instead. "I-I mean ..."

Something trailing inky blackness passed by in the corridor.

Ned nodded. "Uh, yeah, of course, Cassie, glad to lend out the ol' Ned
noodle."

They both fell silent and tensed. Almost as one, they slowly turned
their heads.

Melissa Hendell continued down the corridor at a brisk pace, her back
to them, having taken no notice of them. The Darkness surrounded her
body like an inky black cloak. It reflected no light that fell upon it
from the overhead lights. It was a roiling mass of glowing blackness,
with slithery tendrils that trailed behind it from her legs and arms
like serpents. Other students stepped through it, oblivious, sending
them writhing about before rejoining their mistress.

Cassie swallowed and leaned against her locker, panting lightly.
"I-I've never seen it that bad before, Ned," she breathed. "Even Nyssa
wasn't quite that bad."

Ned frowned and slowly shook his head. "Nah, Nyssa's was just as bad.
There's jus' something different about hers."

Cassie glanced towards Melissa again, though she was barely visible
anymore in the crowd. "Wait, you can see patterns in it like Jason
can?"

"Huh? Nah, nothin' like that. Jus' a gut feelin'. But I wonder what
she's doin' down here."

"Down here? I don't understand."

Ned smirked humorlessly. He jerked a thumb down the corridor down which
Melissa had gone. "I'm on the same class rotation as the Mistress of
the Dark here. And that ain't the way to the next class. Or her
locker."

"You know where her locker is?"

"Oh yeah. I've been keepin' tabs on her."

Cassie's eyes widened. "Ned, that's dangerous! If she catches you ...
some of the things I've heard she's done ..."

Ned waved another hand in dismissal. It was a gesture that was braver
than he actually felt. Tracking Melissa scared him. His stomach twisted
in knots whenever he got near her. But he felt like he was still
repaying a debt to Cassie. She had been the one that had stopped him
from making a big mistake and falling completely to Nyssa.

And, though he didn't consciously realize it yet himself, he was
showing off for Cassie.

"Look, I'm okay. I'm too ugly for her to wanna deal with."

"Oh, you are not!"

Ned blinked. "Huh?"

Cassie opened her mouth and closed it again, cheeks pink. "I-I mean ...
if she really has some sort of power from the Darkness, she can do
anything she wants. Please, promise me you won't do anything more until
you've talked to the others about it."

"Um ... sure, babe, I promise," Ned said in a weak voice, looking a bit
distracted.

"Look, we better get to our classes. I'll see you at lunch."

Cassie offered him a small smile and walked away.

Ned smiled as well, though she did not see it. His mind was still
trying to parse what she had said. Did she really think that he was not
as ugly as he thought he was?

Ned finally realized that the crowd had thinned. He rushed to his own
locker and then on to class.



Once, she had walked the halls of the school with a strutting
confidence that drew the desirous looks of the boys and the jealous
glares from the girls. With her dusky-blonde hair tied into its
ponytail, it would lend a bit of cuteness or innocence to an otherwise
wantonly sexy body poured into tight attire that skirted the edge of
acceptability in the dress code.

She had commanded a following among both genders: eager boys that were
interested in dating one of the more popular seniors, and sycophantic
girls that wanted to ride on her coattails and get themselves noticed.
She had power of a sort, the power to set the social hierarchy at Haven
High.

But now, even after only a week, it all seemed a distant memory to
Susan Radson.

Susan barely met anyone's eye as she trudged towards her locker. No one
bothered even so much as to say "hi" to her as she passed. Not only was
she a social nobody, having been toppled from the ladder by a single
backfired prank, but they knew something was odd about her. And some of
them knew it led back to Melissa.

Susan's hand trembled as she spun the dial on her locker. As her arm
moved, her top stretched over her breasts, the nipples two hard points.
She let go with a deep, sultry sigh as they tingled. She shifted her
feet, her thighs sliding back and forth a few times before she caught
herself.

She moaned softly, closing her eyes. Already her pussy felt warm and
damp. She didn't need to exacerbate it before the day was over.

"Oh, no, Susan, don't stop."

Susan swallowed hard and turned her head. Melissa stepped up to her and
smiled broadly.

Barely a second later, Susan's legs moved of their own accord. Her
thighs scissored, brushing against each other as they passed, her hips
gyrating in a slow, sensual dance. The heat in her sex rose, her pussy
aching. The warmth trickled out from the edges of her panties. She
uttered a very soft, despairing moan.

"Mmm, much better, isn't it?" Melissa purred. "I'll bet you can't wait
to get Ann's tongue in your twat later."

Susan said nothing, her thighs continuing to inflame her desire. In the
hallway, other students gave them a wide berth. At first, these
meetings had been a source of curiosity or amusement. Now it made them
too anxious to stick around.

Melissa stepped closer. "I'll bet you're so horny now it hurts," she
cooed in a sultry whisper. "A horny little slut. You'd give anything to
cum right now. Even if it meant stripping yourself naked, spreading
your legs, and rubbing your twat right here in the hallway."

Susan gave Melissa a frightened look like that of a trapped animal.

There was a pause, and a wicked gleam came to Melissa's eyes. Suddenly,
Susan's hands rose to the top of her blouse.

"N-no, please ... p-please, Melissa ..." Susan begged, her eyes
brimming with unshed tears as her fingers undid button after button
completely against her will.

Melissa giggled. At the last button, Susan's hands stopped, shuddered,
and became her own again. Susan sniffled in both relief and
disappointment as she rebuttoned her blouse.

That was the most horrible part of it. Not the fact that Melissa had
extended her control over them so much that she could treat them as
mere puppets at her whim, but the fact that she could make them greet
it with anticipation. As mortified as Susan would have been to put on
such an exhibition, it also felt intensely erotic to her. It was as if
her humiliation was being made to inflame her lust.

The last week of her life had been a living hell. The stretches of time
that Melissa left her and Ann alone were rapidly dwindling. She had
thought she would have had more time to herself after Melissa had been
sated by her initial revenge. In extracting payback, Melissa had
transformed Susan and Ann into personifications of lust. But she had
arranged it it so that each could be satisfied only by the other,
locking Susan and Ann into an intensely sexual relationship.

Susan had hoped that if they were good and gave Melissa no grief, she
would do nothing more to them. She had held out hope that she might
keep her other relationships intact.

It did not take long for those hopes to be dashed. Now she truly had
lost everything that had mattered to her.

"As much as I would love to chat with you, Susan, I've dropped by just
to inform you that I want you to come over to my house after school. I
have something to discuss with you."

Susan gave Melissa a dark and lustful look. Her thighs had resumed
rubbing against each other. "B-but ... But I have to ... with Ann ..."

Melissa grinned. "Oh, you can do better than that. Now, you want to
expand on that?"

The words sprang into being in Susan's head and tumbled from her mouth.

"Ann and I have to dive into each other's muffs after school because
we're so wet and horny for each other," Susan said, blushing furiously.
"We have to lick each other's cunts until we're exhausted from cumming
so much."

"Yes, I understand all that. In fact, bring the stupid cunt along. Have
your little fun, and then ... we'll talk ..."

Something gleamed in Melissa's eyes that made Susan cringe. When
Melissa spoke again, it was cold and unfeeling, sending a shiver
through Susan's body.

"And I really do hope you have the answers I want, Susan. I will be
very ... /disappointed/ ... if you don't."

Susan swallowed, panting in fear now as Melissa walked away.



Late morning was the low point in Richie's day. Not that school itself
held a great deal of his interest in the best of times. Boredom stole
over him barely after the second period was over. Most of his teachers
had given up trying to involve him in the class. But it was not until
this particular period, the one right before lunch, that he grew openly
sullen and resentful.

This was the class he had Miss Linda Davis for history.

His face was creased in a partial scowl. He leaned his head on one hand
as if simply bored, but the narrowed, hard gaze told another story.
Despite his apparent lack of attention, his eyes were riveted on the
curvaceous form of Linda Davis as she strolled back and forth before
the class, her heeled shoes making a sharp report with the tile with
each step.

Anger bubbled and frothed inside of him whenever Linda came to a stop
and faced the class to drive home some point in the lesson. Her
gorgeous fall of blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she
occasionally threw it back behind her with a casual swipe of one hand.
Two eyes of bright blue alighted on a student at random, held eye
contact for a few moments, and then flitted to the next student.

But never Richie.

On the Monday following Nyssa's defeat, Richie was sure that Linda
would have called on him to stay after class and ream him for what he
had done to her. Richie had met the young woman during the summer, when
she had stopped to watch him play baseball with his friends. She had
never revealed she was a teacher the whole time that he had talked to
her. He had not found out her status until the semester began, much to
his embarrassment and frustration.

To Richie, Linda had been an "oh-so-fuckable blonde." So when Richie
had given himself to Nyssa in exchange for the power she offered, this
is exactly what Linda became for him. He had had trouble imagining her
as a teacher, and so he had changed reality to suit his world view.

Yet Monday came and went, and she said nothing to him. Not a word. Not
even so much as a dirty look in his direction. He had thought he would
be relieved. Instead, it infuriated him. At least by yelling at him, or
giving him detention, it would have acknowledged that he had actually
held sway over her. It would have been proof that for a short time, he
actually had something that he wanted.

Each class, he silently dared her to look at him, to face him in some
small way. Was she she showing him contempt or fear? He had no way to
tell.

Several times, Richie had contemplated confronting her on his own, just
to see how she would react. But then he would start wondering if he had
any lingering influence over her. He wanted to test it, just to see if
there was any truth to what Nyssa had said when she left.

And he would decide against it.

The power was bad. /It was bad./ He had to keep repeating that to
himself. No one should have it. Not Nyssa, not him, no one. Bad, bad,
bad.

Richie had not noticed he had clenched his hand into a tight, trembling
fist until he felt the needle-like pain of his nails in his palm.

Richie swallowed and let out a long sigh, forcing himself to open his
hand. Four angry, thin red wheals appeared where his nails bit into the
skin. He flattened his hand against the desk and cursed under his
breath.

The bell rang and nearly jolted him out of his seat.

"All right, homework for Monday, go read ..." Linda began, and was
drowned out by a groan of despair from the students, forcing her to
raise her voice, " ... /go read/ the rest of chapter six and write an
essay on the effects of the War of 1812 on American politics. Include
at least one item that you researched outside the textbook. And anyone
that copies verbatim from Wikipedia will get a zero for the assignment!
Mr. Gardner, a word with you, if you please."

It took a few more seconds for Linda's words to register, causing him
to abruptly freeze in the process of collecting his things. He thought
he had imagined it, something that his head had conjured up while he
had been lost in thought towards the end of the class. But when he
looked up, he saw Linda seated at her desk, her eyes finally on him.

He held her gaze for a moment, as if daring her to break contact first.
Instead, some students drifted between them. When they had passed,
Linda had dropped her gaze down to her desk again.

Richie's heart thumped. So was this it? Wait until his guard was down
and then attack him? He felt defensive, and now his mind filled with
retorts and rejoinders he could make to whatever accusations she was
about to level at him.

But along with it went questions as well. Did she really understand
what had happened? Did she know that he had taken the power rather than
being given it? Did she know that Nyssa was behind everything?

Richie shouldered his backpack. He waited for the last of the students
to leave before heading up to the desk.

He didn't know where to place his eyes. He had to look her over once.
It was one thing to see her in front of the class, but another to stand
close to her. He noticed for the first time that her manner of dress
was a bit less conservative compared to what she wore at the start of
the semester. Her slacks hugged her hips. Her blouse was tighter, the
hemline lower and revealing more of her plump cleavage.

Linda turned in her seat and regarded him. Her eyes met his again. Her
red lips were slightly pursed, her eyes a bit cool. She folded her arms
in a businesslike manner and looked to him expectantly.

"Um, you wanted to see me, Ms. Davis?" Richie asked.

Linda paused another moment. Some of the iciness retreated from her
eyes. She appeared to take a single, quick, deep breath. "Yes, Mr.
Gardner, I wanted to talk to you about your work in the class."

Richie frowned. "But I'm doing the work, Ms. Davis," he protested.

"Yes, you are. That is what I wanted to mention. I wanted to thank you
for participating in the class once again."

Richie stared at her. Anger flickered in his eyes. She had been
converted into his personal slut for nearly a week, and all she wanted
to do was talk about his academics?

If Linda saw his growing fury, she did not note it. Her voice remained
calm and collected. Perhaps even relieved. "I am glad that this matter
has been resolved."

Richie slowly nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it's been resolved, Ms. Davis," he
said, fixing his gaze on her.

Linda's eyes flickered for a moment. "Good. I am glad you saw fit to
...."

"That 'little trouble' was why you put me in detention. Remember?"

Linda hesitated only a second. "I remember that well, yes."

Richie's voice rose. "Yeah? You do? Are you sure you didn't forget
anything?"

"Why would I forget anything that has happened this semester?" said
Linda in a lower voice. "Now, that is all I wanted to ..."

"So you remember that one day in detention, Ms. Davis? Right before
that weekend?"

"Mr. Gardner, that's enough, please."

"I didn't have detention that day, did I? You were busy. Because I made
you ..."

"/That's enough!/"

Richie fell silent. Linda had cast an icy look at him again. Yet her
lips were parted and her breathing was heavy. Her arms wrapped more
tightly around herself.

His eyes darted. There were telltale bumps in the swells of her bosom.
He struggled to remember if they were there when he first walked up to
the desk.

Linda took another and more obvious deep breath. When she spoke again,
it was in softer, measured, and halting tones. "Mr. Gardner ... I feel
that it is ... it is in our mutual best interest that we let what
happened in the past stay in the past."

Richie was not sure what to do. It was obvious that Linda was reacting
to something. He didn't know if it had been his voice that had done it
or her own thoughts.

Or was /that/ why she would not acknowledge him? When Richie had had
control over her, he had made it so that hearing his voice made her
horny. Was she afraid this was still true? Is that why she never called
on him in class or even acknowledged his existence, for fear that he
would speak?

"But it happened," said Richie, his voice nearly a plea. "It did. It
really happened."

Linda remained silent and turned her eyes away from him.

"C'mon, /it did!/ A week. A whole week! You gotta say ...!"

Linda placed a hand on her cheek and sighed. "Yes, it happened," she
whispered. "Is ... is that what you wanted to hear, Richie? That I
remember it? Yes, I do. Every bit of it. Does that make you happy?"

"You liked it."

Linda snapped her gaze back to him. "What?"

"You liked it. Some of it, anyway. I mean ... come on, it couldn't have
been all that bad."

"That doesn't matter ..."

"Why not? Why the /hell/ not? I ..."

"Stop it," Linda said firmly, though her voice quavered. Now the bumps
on her blouse were far more pronounced. In the silence that followed
her plea, Richie could hear her panting breath.

Richie swallowed. He was affecting her. She was getting aroused right
in front of him. It was nowhere near the all-consuming passion that he
had instilled in her before, but it was more than he thought he could
do.

He felt himself being pulled in several directions at once. He wanted
to do the right thing. But what if she did enjoy it? What if she really
did want to do it again? Wouldn't that make it okay?

"I think you should leave, Mr. Gardner," Linda said, attempting to make
her voice more forceful. She unfolded her arms and tugged at her blouse
without thinking. Her nipples rubbed against her bra, tingling madly
and making her visibly quiver. Her legs slid a bit further apart on the
chair. "Please."

Richie paused for a long moment. It felt like the longest moment of his
life. She looked incredibly vulnerable, even more so than when he had
held her in his control.

He finally turned and trudged across the room. Halfway to the door he
stopped and turned his head back towards her. "I want to do it again,
Miss Davis."

Linda took another breath, letting it go as a sultry sigh. "Y-yes. I
know. I ..."

Richie looked on hopefully. He wanted her to make the first move. That
would make everything okay. Then it would be clear that she really
wanted it.

"I can't," Linda said in a hollow voice, barely audible.

Richie stared at her for a few moments and then frowned deeply. "Yeah.
You can't. Uh-huh. Sure, whatever."

Richie grumbled to himself as he left the room.



Gary Johnson was a handyman. Not because he was unskilled or
particularly unintelligent, or because he couldn't hold down a "real"
job, but by choice. Big, burly, and smart, he simply liked to help
people with the odd jobs around the house.

And he liked to help himself.

As it was the case that morning. Kathy Hendell had called and said that
she had a very important job for him. It was very clear the moment she
opened the front door what kind of job she wanted. And it was not the
first time it had happened to him, either.

He didn't waste any time. He didn't wait for her to stammer through her
request of him. It was obvious that she was hoping that he would save
her from herself, that he would be chivalrous and refuse to help her
cheat on her husband. But it was also obvious that she was horny as
hell, so much so that by the time he got her robe open against her
feeble protests, her thighs were nearly as slick as her pussy.

Yes, he could have stopped and let her be. But being a handyman meant
heavy work for little pay. He had to have his perks somewhere. And for
some reason, Haven was rife with "perks" such as this. He would have
been a fool to pass it up.

And Kathy was in no mood to refuse him despite her little murmurs of
"no, this is so wrong" or "please, don't do this."

All her protests vanished the moment he had her on her back and his
cock ramming into her sweet, hot cunt. At that point, the only sounds
she made were those of a desperately horny woman begging for sexual
release.

Did he think it odd that a normally upright and Christian woman would
suddenly act like a bitch in heat? Yes, he was smart enough to know
this was quite unusual. But Haven, he had discovered, was quite an
unusual town.

Ultimately, when Kathy cried out her pleasure and clutched at him
begging for more, he realized that it didn't matter one bit. All he
knew was that he was a handyman, and here was a job that needed doing,
and by God he was going to do it right.
<1st attachment end>


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