index


Message-ID: <57164asstr$1200298201@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 13 Jan 2008 20:05:13 -0600
From: A Strange Geek <astraYOURngegeek@comMINDcast.net>
User-Agent: Thunderbird 1.5.0.12 (X11/20070719)
Subject: {ASSM} Melissa's Rite 08/31 (mf mF MF ff fF fsolo teen inc oral voy mc nc toys humil magic)
Lines: 1026
Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2008 03:10:01 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d




<1st attachment, "Chapter08.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: 8 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/Chapter08.html



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

Melinda made a conscious effort to hurry herself along. Usually she was
quite sluggish on a Monday morning, reluctant to return to the weekly
regime of school and homework. But by the time Heather had finished her
shower, Melinda was already dressed and packing her backpack.

Heather cast a lingering gaze on Melinda as she crossed the room,
stopping beside the dresser. Melinda paused and looked up. "What?" she
demanded.

"Nothing."

Melinda's eyes grew dark as they flicked over Heather's nude body. She
forced herself to avert her gaze. "Go get dressed, bubblehead," she
muttered.

"What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"Then do it faster! Before you start getting any ideas!"

Heather turned away and gathered her panties and bra from the dresser.
She paused a moment, then abruptly turned around. She caught the
movement of Melinda's head just as her younger sister looked away.

"Yeah, /now/ who's getting ideas?" Heather declared with a smirk.

"No idea what you're talking about," Melinda said. She stuffed a math
textbook into her backpack with a vicious shove that made the seams
bulge.

"You were just looking at me before I turned around."

Melinda snorted. "Get over yourself, Heather."

Heather threw down her underwear and marched over to Melinda. She
yanked the backpack away.

"/Hey!/" Melinda cried.

"What's with you, Melinda? You've been acting hostile to me ever since
yesterday afternoon."

Melinda's eyes burned with anger. She kept them locked to Heather's,
but it was difficult. Heather was slightly bent over, her breasts
dangling under her. Her feet were parted enough for Melinda to see the
triangle of her sex.

A small wave of warmth came over Melinda's body. As much as she tried
to resist it, she was responding to Heather's nudity. When her nipples
began to rise, she forced herself to look away, cheeks faintly pink.
"/Get dressed/, Heather. Then talk to me, okay?!"

Heather realized that she was embarrassing her little sister, and for a
brief moment she reveled in it. She caught herself and turned away,
grabbing her underwear and slipping it on as quickly as she could. She
retrieved her jeans and a shirt from the dresser. "If it helps any,
Melinda, I think what you suggested worked."

"Yeah, great. Glad to hear it."

The flat tone in Melinda's voice suggested otherwise.

Heather was mostly telling Melinda the truth. The fact of the matter
was that her tryst with Jason had done little to diminish her desire
for Melinda. It had simply reduced the urge for sexual contact. She
could still feel it, but at a much lower level. It was not enough to
push her into influencing Melinda anymore, at least not at the moment.

Heather finished dressing and turned around. "Okay."

Melinda hesitated before looking up. "Really wish you'd stop strutting
around here naked. Like anyone really wants to see that stupid body of
yours."

Heather bit back a retort. She had almost said "Jason didn't think so,"
but wisely refrained. "Look, it was your idea, Melinda. If you're upset
about it, maybe you shouldn't have told me to do this in the first
place."

"Do you still want to boink me?"

Heather was surprised at the bluntness of the question. "Huh?"

"Answer me! You still want to do it with me?"

The answer was more complex than yes or no, but she knew that would be
lost on Melinda. "No, I'm fine this morning."

Both relief and disappointment appeared in Melinda's face, as if she
were trying to decide which was more appropriate for her to feel.
"Good. Keep it that way."

"You still want me to keep going with Jason?" asked Heather.

Melinda hauled her backpack from the bed, slinging it over one shoulder
with a grunt. "Do whatever the hell you want. So long as you stay away
from me."

"I just don't want to interfere with ..."

But Melinda had already walked out of the bedroom without a backwards
glance.

Melinda fumed as she descended the stairs, her steps heavy and plodding
as only an angsty teenage girl could do. Her bra felt too tight, the
cups rubbing against her now hard and taut nipples. There was a faint
heat in her sex.

She was not that upset at Heather and Jason's tryst. It was more that
nothing had been done for her own feelings. Her own attraction for
Heather had not diminished. She had trouble distinguishing between
influence from her sister and her own feelings.

Melinda still had trouble letting go of the old image of her sister.
Until the House, Heather had been the bossy one, the one that delighted
in teasing Melinda to tears, or of using her (thoroughly non-mind
control) influence over their mother to get her way regardless of
Melinda's desires.

Heather had stopped doing many of these things after the House, and
Melinda had gotten along with her better. But that was before Nyssa,
and before Heather had resumed her close ties to Diane. Melinda
secretly resented the two of them getting back together. They had been
a source of much grief for Melinda in the past.

/I won't let her get away with that shit again,/ Melinda thought as she
thumped off the bottom step. /And if she thinks she can steal Jason to
get at me, she's got another thing coming to her!/

Melinda's thought was not rational. Even she knew it. But it did not
stop her from feeling it as if it made perfect sense to her.



Upstairs, Heather sighed deeply in Melinda's wake.

She turned from the door and got her own things together. Her face
creased in increasing anger. She wished her little sister didn't insist
on such histrionics. If Melinda were still having trouble with her own
feelings, why doesn't she just come out and say it?

Some of Heather's anger faded. /Because you don't make it any easier
for her, that's why,/ she thought.

As much as she tried to relate to her little sister better, some old
habits died hard. She still saw herself as the "better" one, the older
one, the one-that-should-be-listened-to. She still felt a small
pleasure from bossing around her little sister. She sometimes wondered
if she had taken to her enslavement of Melinda too easily, if she
should have somehow resisted Nyssa's control better.

Heather picked up her backpack and glanced at the window. She frowned
and parted the curtain with her hand. She muttered darkly as she saw
the white sparkle of frost on the lawn.

She put down her backpack and returned to the dresser to fetch a light
sweater. As she pulled it out, it snagged the corner of a small
paperboard box, pulling it into the light from the recesses of the
drawer.

Heather stared at it for a long moment. It was a box of condoms she had
purchased early in the summer, when she thought she might have
intercourse with her then boyfriend Brad. She had never used them. She
was afraid of leakage, especially with as vigorous as she was sure Brad
would have been during the sex act.

Heather put the sweater aside and took the box in her hand, glancing at
the door for a moment. She felt flushed as she recalled her tryst with
Jason the day before. She smiled faintly at the memory of how much she
had wanted him to actually fuck her instead of confining it to oral
sex.

At the House, they could actually fuck. They could prevent conception
merely by thinking about it. If she didn't want to get pregnant, she
simply didn't. It had been that simple. She really missed that.

Heather was startled by her mother's voice from downstairs. "Heather,
it's chilly out this morning, wear a sweater. And bring one down for
Melinda."

"/Mooom!/ I don't need one!" came Melinda's petulant voice in protest.

"You need one if I say you need one, young lady."

Heather smirked despite her feelings towards her mother. "Okay, Mom! Be
down in a minute!"

Heather opened the box and looked inside. She paused for a long moment,
then sighed. She quickly closed the box, stuffed it in the back of the
drawer, and grabbed a sweater for her little sister. She kicked the
drawer closed with her foot, scooped up her backpack, and sailed out
the door.



Jason cast a bleary-eyed look out the window of the bus as it rumbled
down Green Avenue. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. He had almost nodded
off twice as the bus took its circuitous route through the
subdivisions.

He had not slept well the night before. The question of finding a
secure place for the Harbingers to meet had weighed on him heavily. He
had finally fallen asleep sometime past two in the morning out of sheer
exhaustion.

His hopes for some solace from the others were quickly dashed. Everyone
was tense. Richie just folded his arms, looking sullen for some reason
that he would not disclose. He appeared almost as if he wanted to talk
about it, but then shook his head and stared out the window.

Heather kept giving Jason furtive, almost embarrassed glances. He
sincerely hoped it had nothing to do with his tryst with her. Even
Melinda seemed stiff as she leaned into him. He was definitely hoping
/that/ had nothing to do with the tryst, either.

He hated having to put forth his troubles to them in their present
state, but he was desperate and out of ideas. "So did anyone think of
anything over the weekend?"

Richie frowned. "Huh? Think of what?"

Melinda's eyes blazed in anger, and Jason felt her tense even further.
For a moment she looked as if she were going to say something quite
sharp to him. She relented at the last moment, huffing indignantly.

Stress made Jason's voice testy in response. "About where we can meet.
I asked everyone to try and think of something."

Richie made a face and shook his head. "Nah, man. Nuthin' here.
Things've been weirder than normal around my house."

"Weirder? You mean your Mom?"

Richie hesitated, again looking like he wanted to say more. He just
shook his head.

"Then what is it?"

"Nuthin'. Just ignore me, 'kay?"

"I'm sorry, Jason, I didn't really have time to think about it,"
Heather said.

"Yeah, you were too busy yesterday," Melinda muttered.

"What about you, runt?" snapped Heather. "You had all the time in the
world yesterday."

"I was busy!"

"Uh-huh. Doing what?"

Melinda fumed and glared at her sister. Her eyes flicked over to Richie
for a moment. "Forget it," she said sullenly, folding her arms.

"Well, I'm out of ideas as well," Jason said, exasperated.

Heather looked at him more closely. "You okay, Jason? You look
terrible."

Melinda frowned and turned, as if only now taking the time to look at
him herself.

"Just tired," said Jason. "Had trouble sleeping last night."

Richie muttered darkly under his breath.

"Okay, we're just going to have to hope that nothing happens today
concerning Melissa. I don't feel safe having us meet in the school
parking lot, not as a whole group. Until we find a place we can meet,
we're dead in the water."

"It it helps any, Jason, Diane called me last night and said she talked
to Jill again," Heather said. "The only other person she said was
acting kind of odd was Ann Went."

"In what way?"

"Jill told her Ann seemed really out of it. Really withdrawn, which is
very unusual for her. She generally spouts her mouth off and annoys the
hell out of everyone."

"You hate her only because she's probably boinking Brad," Melinda
piped.

Heather rolled her eyes. "I don't care who Brad is going with."

"Liar."

"All I said was I thought he could have done better than Ann."

"Was that when you called her 'that stupid cunt?'"

"Um, it's ... it's not important," Jason said, forcing the words out.
"I mean, what Heather thinks of her is not important. What matters is
we have forewarning about someone else Melissa might have affected."

"But what good is it if we can't meet?" Melinda said.

Jason shrugged and shook his head in frustration.

"Aw, cut the gloom-n-doom shit, huh?" Richie said in annoyance.
"Melissa's not Nyssa fer fuck's sake. She woulda screwed with a lot
more people by now if she could, right?"

"I have no idea," said Jason. "I'm going to have to hope that you're
right."

An uneasy silence settled on them for the rest of the trip to the
school.



"Miss Hendell."

Melissa looked up in annoyance at her homeroom teacher, a rather prim
young man who always seemed to be standing at military attention. Even
his gaze was as stiff as his manner. "Yes, Mr. Preston?" she sighed as
she dropped into her seat, a sullen look on her face.

"You are to report to the Principal's office immediately."

Melissa frowned. She eyed the yellow slip in Prim Preston's hand. Every
student at Haven High recognized it: a behavioral reprimand.

Her jaw tightened. She was already in a foul mood. She was still upset
over the lack of useful information from Susan's mother. And on top of
that, she had left Susan's house the day before rather horny herself,
only to find that Brad was away for the day with his parents.

"Fine," Melissa snapped. She stood up, drawing a disapproving scowl
from Mr. Preston. As a show of defiance, Melissa adjusted her pendant
to insure it was plainly visible. Mr. Preston said nothing, but his
scowl deepened.

Melissa marched out of the classroom and stomped down the hall. She was
doubly furious with Debby Radson now. She had expended so much energy
breaking through the woman's resistance that it was harder to influence
the faculty as she liked. It was likely that someone had the gumption
to call her out on her style of dress, or for displaying her pendant.

Melissa took a few deep breaths as she approached the administrative
area. She was not going to let the Principal stop her. She would
abandon her attempts to influence the teachers and just focus
everything on Laura Bendon. That's all that mattered anyway.

Melissa paused as she approached what was supposed to be the desk of
the Principal's secretary, a rather mousy woman named Marcie Fuller. Or
at least that's what she had remembered of the skittish young woman
when she had last seen the woman a month ago.

At first, Melissa thought the Principal had hired someone new. This
woman, though she had the same black hair and stature as Marcie, shared
little else from the one Melissa remembered. The old Marcie wore her
hair in a tight bun and peered at the world through schoolmarm glasses
with eyes fixed in a permanent startle. Her clothes were so
conservative that only her voice hinted that a female existed beneath
them.

This woman wore her hair in loose waves, and the glasses were gone. Her
eyes were dreamy and a touch sultry. They matched the rest of her,
attired in tight-fitting clothes that clung to every curve and shaped
her breasts into two perfectly round mounds.

She looked up and smiled. "Oh, good morning! You would be Melissa
Hendell, right?"

Melissa stared. That /was/ Marcie Fuller. She recognized the rather
high-pitched voice anywhere, though it had lost much of its squeaky
quality. There was a husky cadence to it instead.

"Um, yes, I told she wanted to see me," Melissa said.

"Ms. Bendon is waiting for you in her office. Please, go right in."

Melissa's gaze lingered on Marcie for a moment. At the mention of the
Principal's name, Marcie had squirmed in her seat.

Melissa slowly stepped past Marcie. As she reached the door, she heard
an odd noise and turned her head. Marcie sat with her legs splayed wide
over the seat of her chair. Her back was to Melissa, but it was clear
that she had one of her hands between her legs, moving softly. Faint,
wet sounds came to Melissa's ears.

Confused, Melissa let herself into Laura Bendon's office.

The chestnut-haired woman behind the desk smiled and gestured to an
empty chair. "Miss Hendell, I presume? Please, close the door behind
you and have a seat. We have much to discuss."

Melissa's lips drew to a thin line as she shut the door with a slam.
She plopped herself indignantly into the proffered seat and folded her
arms tightly.

Laura leaned forward, steepling her fingers. "Now, Miss Hendell, do you
know why you are here?"

Melissa hated games like this. She would have preferred that Laura got
right to the point. "I'm here because you summoned me, Ms. Bendon. I
would have thought that fairly obvious."

"Now, is that the proper attitude to have towards your Principal? I
think not."

Melissa fumed, her anger escalating into fury. She had no patience for
this. "I can take any attitude I want, Ms. Bendon."

"Oh really? And what makes you so different, hmm?"

There was something about Laura's smile that made Melissa wary, and a
devious undertone to her voice as well. But Melissa could be the same
way, and now her lips curled into an evil smile. "Oh, I'm very
different, Ms. Bendon. Very different indeed."

"So I have been told by the faculty. Hmm. Tsk tsk, Melissa. Flouting
the dress code as badly as you do, and wearing that ... object."

Melissa's eyes blazed as she clutched the pendant protectively.

"No, the other teachers do not approve at all."

"And what about you, Ms. Bendon?" Melissa asked savagely, leaning
forward. "Do you approve?"

Laura said nothing in reply. She simply continued to give Melissa an
enigmatic smile.

"Maybe it's /your/ attitude that should change, Ms. Bendon. Maybe you
should be more accommodating to some of your students. Maybe you just
won't care what I ... what ..."

Melissa suddenly recoiled, slamming back hard in her chair. She winced
as if in pain.

It had been the mental equivalent of running full-tilt into a brick
wall. It was not just a case of being resisted. It was like pushing
against a mountain.

"Are you quite done?" Laura asked in a bored voice.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Melissa demanded.

"Keep your voice down, if you would, Miss Hendell. While I have control
enough over Marcie, I do not have influence over the other faculty."

"Control over ... " Melissa said, trailing off. She glanced towards the
closed door.

Laura smiled. "Do you like what I've done with her? So much better than
the old Marcie. The old one was very loyal, I will give her that. But
the new one ... oh, she is so much more than loyal."

"She's your slave?" Melissa asked tentatively.

"Completely. Mind and body. She does whatever I tell her, and
experiences the most exquisite pleasure when she obeys me. And it is
quite permanent. The old Marcie is simply ... gone."

"All right, so what's going on?" Melissa asked in a more conversational
voice, trying to hide her growing trepidation. "You knew I tried to
control you?"

"Yes, I felt it. Better abandon that now. I am already spoken for."

"I don't understand."

"I am already a willing slave to another. I gave myself to her, so it
can't be undone by you."

Melissa heard the tone of deep affection in Laura's voice. She could
sense Laura's mild arousal as well, as she had with Marcie. "So what's
this all about? You're not seriously going to call me out on what I
wear, are you?"

"That was simply an excuse to get you here so I could talk to you in
private."

"Talk? About what?"

"About what you are doing in this school."

Melissa frowned. "I may not be able to get into your head, Ms. Bendon,
but that doesn't mean you can stop me. Even if I can't control you, I
can hurt you very badly if you try anything against me."

Melissa applied her will, and a pair of scissors flew from its place in
an office organizer and impaled one of its blades into the desk.

Laura raised an eyebrow. "No need for the parlor tricks, Miss Hendell,"
she said with disdain. She pulled the scissors out of the wood and set
them aside. "I am not here to stop you. I am here to help you."

"Help me?"

"Yes, help you. My Mistress had to leave Haven for awhile, but she left
me one final task to perform for her. I am to see when signs of the
Darkness are stirring at Haven High, and assist it in any way I can."

Melissa gave her a confused look. "Wait, what do you mean, the
'Darkness?'"

Laura's lips curled into a sly smile. "The source of your Power, Miss
Hendell," she said in a husky voice. "The source of all the power to be
had in Haven."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Melissa snapped. "I got this
Power myself. It was offered to me freely and I took it. No one
enslaved me. No one recruited me for some cause. I took it and used it
to my own ends. I don't answer to anyone."

"I don't deny any of your claims for one moment. But regardless, that
is the source of your power. And as such, I must obey my Mistress and
help you."

Melissa was angry again. She had earned the Power. It was not a gift,
or a payment, or a loan. She /earned/ it. Now she was being told that
it belonged to some higher and more powerful entity?

"No one controls me," Melissa said. "No one can tell me what to do with
the Power."

"And no one wishes to. But where it comes from is important, Miss
Hendell, for it affects those that can see it for what it is."

Melissa looked exasperated. "You're not making any sense! What are you
talking about?"

"There are several students here that can see the Darkness. Then know
who has been affected by it. Who has been enslaved by it. Who has power
given by it. They can see you, Miss Hendell. They saw it the moment you
acquired it. One of them likely even dreamed about you when it
happened."

Melissa felt a twinge of anxiety but tried to dismiss it. "So what?
Lots of students already think I've got something over them. They fear
me. I like it. So let them know about me."

"That would be well and good if that was all there was to it," said
Laura, leaning back in her chair. "But they will actively work against
you."

"And how the fuck do you know?"

Laura raised a finger in admonishment. "Watch your language, Miss
Hendell. Please remember you are speaking to your Principal. I know
they will work against you because they already have. My Mistress is
the one that used to be the school nurse, Nyssa Neris. She was far more
powerful than you are, Miss Hendell, and the Harbingers stopped her and
forced her to leave."

"Wait, the what? Harbingers?"

"It is what they call themselves. A bunch of students banded together
to put a stop to Nyssa and succeeded. And now they will do the same
with you."

"How can they? No one can stand up to ..."

"They have other abilities, Miss Hendell. Given to them by someone else
that had the Power. I don't know exactly what those abilities are,
except for one, but it gives them an edge."

Melissa looked stricken. Both anger and panic raged inside her. Just
ten minutes ago it seemed so simple. She had the Power and no one else
did. Now she was competing against others?

"/This isn't fair!/" she cried. "I won't be stopped! Not by them! Not
by anyone! Once I get the book, once I learn the Rite, they won't be
able to stop me!"

Laura smiled. "Book? Rite?"

Melissa seethed. "This is not fair," she muttered petulantly, hugging
her arms around herself tightly. "Not fair at all ..."

"So you're looking for more power, is that it?"

Melissa did not respond for a long moment. Her breathing grew labored
as she fought the urge to lash out at Ms. Bendon, to telekinetically
topple her out of the chair, to break down the door, to do something to
express the fury inside her. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

A vase atop the windowsill holding a flower arrangement abruptly
shattered.

"Stop it and get a hold of yourself, Miss Hendell!" Laura said sharply,
though she looked a bit rattled as she looked at the shards over the
windowsill and floor. "This is not the time for a temper tantrum."

"I'll lose my temper whenever I feel like it!" Melissa shouted, though
her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She took a deep breath and let it
go as a faint sob. In a lower voice still edged with anger, she said,
"I want it, Ms. Bendon. I can have real control over everything in my
life. It's out there somewhere. I just need to find it. And then ..."

Then what?

Melissa had never given any real thought to specifically what she would
do once she had greater power.

She knew her immediate plans. She would take complete control of
everyone in her life. That included everyone at school and her
immediately family. Nothing would ever happen again that was unexpected
or unpleasant. She could finally settle down and never be uprooted
again. Life would not be just tolerable but actually enjoyable.

But after that, what then?

Sometimes, when she lay in bed waiting for sleep to claim her, she
worried that she'd feel as empty as she did after pursuing her revenge
against Susan and Ann. She had no real goals after taking control.
Never having had control before, she did not know what it was like to
make any sort of long term plans.

But then something would rise up from somewhere within her mind and
quell her fear, urging her ever onward. These issues would work
themselves out, she came to believe in those last moments before
falling asleep. There was nothing to worry about. Having the greater
Power was all that was needed. Everything else was secondary.

"The book, you mean?" asked Laura. "Is that what you are looking for?
Something that will unlock some great power for you?"

Melissa blinked as she was jerked out of her momentary reverie. Her
eyes blazed as she perceived an almost savage relish in Laura's voice.
It was as if Laura were mocking her.

"And you can't find it," Laura said.

"I don't even know where to look!"

"Really? What /do/ you know about it?"

Melissa had not wanted to tell Laura anything. She still feared that
Laura wanted the Power for herself. But she had no idea where to go
from here. Haltingly, she told Laura what Susan's mother had said. She
explained about the pendant and the supposed connection to the book.

"You see? I have all this information about it, and none of it is
useful in getting me what I want!" Melissa cried. She was close to
tears. "And Susan's mother knows something she's not telling me. She
knows something that will help lead me to the book. No matter what I do
to her, she won't reveal it!"

Laura's smile was not helping her disposition. It nearly made Melissa
strike out with her telekinesis again.

"The solution is quite simple, really, Miss Hendell, if you've been
listening to what I have been telling you," said Laura calmly.

"Don't play these games with me! Just tell me!"

Laura sighed. "Oh, very well. You do not have the resources to find
this book. Use someone that does."

Melissa stared. "Who?"

"The Harbingers."

"What??"

"The Harbingers are extremely resourceful, Miss Hendell. And I have
already stated that they have other abilities, ones that may be able to
find the book for you."

Melissa laughed humorlessly. "You just got through telling me that
they're working against me! You expect me to just ask them to go find
this book for me?"

"Miss Hendell, you are far from a stupid girl, so stop acting like
one," Laura said coldly. "It's very simple. Just let them find out
about the book and the fact that you're looking for it. They will do
everything they can to find it first and keep it from you."

"And how do I get it from them after ...?" Melissa trailed off, and her
eyes widened as realization dawned. "I can use the pendant's connection
with the book. If I could see the spell through their eyes, I won't
need the book in my hands, will I?"

Laura smiled. "I always said that the students in this school would do
better if they just applied themselves."

Melissa's mind was racing. She needed to drop the hint to the
Harbingers about the book. But they could not be allowed to know about
the connection with the pendant! If they could be kept in the dark
about that, they would pat themselves on the back for thwarting her
plans will she quietly prepared to perform the Rite.

"All right, who's in the Harbingers?" Melissa asked.

"Jason Conner is the leader," Laura said. "Richie Gardner. Melinda and
Heather Sovert."

Melissa's eyebrows rose. "Heather?"

"You know her?"

Melissa's gaze became icy. "You could say that. I sort of owe her for
something. Her and Diane Woodrow."

"I believe Miss Woodrow is part of the group as well. And Cassie
Kendall and Ned Lussander."

Melissa smirked. The little rich girl and The Nose. What a motley crew!

"Be careful of Cassie," Laura warned. "My Mistress called her a
Dreamer. Her dreams give her visions of other people and what they are
doing. She helped the Harbingers piece together Nyssa's plans."

Melissa cradled the pendant in her hand and looked down at it. "I get
dreams, too, Ms. Bendon. Ever since I started wearing this. They got
much stronger once I had the Power. And in almost every one of them I
kept getting the feeling that someone was watching me. But then I'd
hear some sort of voice telling me not to worry, that I was hidden from
prying eyes. That ..."

Laura's lips curled into a sly smile of satisfaction. "It would seem
that the pendant is somehow blocking Miss Kendall's ability. Consider
yourself fortunate. But I am not surprised. The Darkness is doing
everything it can to hinder them. For instance, they are being stymied
in their attempts to find a meeting place, but I imagine they will
overcome it given time. There is only so much the Darkness can do at
the moment."

Melissa nodded absently, lost in thought.

"Do you have some idea now on how to proceed, Miss Hendell?"

Melissa's fingers curled tightly around the pendant for a few seconds,
then let go. She slowly nodded. "Yes, I think I do, Ms. Bendon."

"In that case, Miss Hendell, it is almost time for first period. I
suggest you return to your class."

Melissa stood. She was halfway to the door before she turned around.
"Oh, what about the official reason for me being here?"

"Ah, yes, that. Hmm. Let's compromise. You keep your clothing within
acceptable limits of the dress code, and you can keep displaying your
pendant. We can claim that you cited religious freedom in the latter
case. Agreed?"

Melissa had not wanted to concede on anything, but she needed the
faculty off her back if she had to concentrate on her new plan.
"Agreed."

"Then good day, Miss Hendell, and don't hesitate to come to me again if
you need help."

Melissa gave Laura a genuine smile, nodded, and headed out.



Melinda's two friends were still giggling at a cutting comment she had
just made about a fellow student when she cut short the conversation
with a "later" and a quick wave. She dashed through the hallway, her
hair swinging behind her. Several strands lay curled in disarray over
her shoulders and in front of her eyes by the time she spotted Jason.
She brushed at her face in annoyance.

"Jason! Jason, wait!" Melinda called out as Jason turned away from his
locker.

Jason spun around. "Melinda, I have to get to class, what is it?" he
asked in a tired voice.

Melinda came to a stop, still panting slightly. "I need to talk to you
about Richie."

Jason sighed. "Melinda, can this wait? I ..."

"No, it can't! Richie ..." She paused, then lowered her voice and
leaned in close to him. "Richie is boinking Linda Davis! He's trying to
control her again!"

"I know that's what you suspect, but we don't have any proof."

"Jason, /I saw him leaving Miss Davis' house yesterday!/"

Jason stared at her. "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"That's what I was doing while you and the bubblehead were doing it."
There was an icy undertone to her last two words. "I went over to her
street and waited on the corner. I saw Richie come out of her house."

Jason ran a hand through his hair. "Dammit."

"He's doing it again. He's trying to make her a slave."

"He can't do that. He doesn't have that sort of power anymore. We would
have seen it."

Melinda stamped her foot. "He's doing something to her, Jason! He's ...
he's influencing her. Like Heather was trying to do to me. Something
like that."

"But you resisted it, right?"

"Yeah, but only because Heather tried to stop." Her voice become more
conciliatory. "It got better after you and her ... you know."

"I only did that because you wanted me to 'you know.'"

Melinda smirked. "Yeah, I bet it was a real hardship, forcing yourself
to boink Miss Redhead Bigboobs."

Jason blushed. "Boink? Well ... we didn't do /that/ ..."

"Huh? Didn't do what?"

"We didn't ... have intercourse."

Melinda frowned. "/You better not have!/ No way!"

"I didn't!"

"Promise me you won't do that with her! You'll just do other stuff.
Just not that. That's for us, once we figure something out."

"Melinda, I ... all right, I promise. But ... please, let's get back to
the original subject before I'm late for class."

"So what are we going to do, Jason?" Melinda asked in a pleading voice.
"Miss Davis is my favorite teacher. I can't stand the idea of Richie
messing with her like this. Even if he's not enslaving her, this is so
wrong!"

"I know. He can't do this. It's totally against what the Harbingers are
about. But I want some more proof before we confront him about it."

Melinda made a face. "What more do we need?"

"We need to make sure he's really doing something to her. That he's
really going over to her house for sex."

Melinda rolled her eyes. "Oh come /on!/ What else is he going there
for?"

Jason looked thoughtful for a moment. "I have an idea how we can find
out, but I don't have time to explain it. I'll catch you later."

Melinda sighed. She felt frustrated that she couldn't get any answers
from him now. "All right. Talk to you later, Jason."

She whirled around and ran down the hall, hair flying behind her like a
banner.



Richie was never very focused in school even in the best of times, but
that particular Monday morning was worse than most. By the time he got
to his history class with Linda Davis, he went into a torpor, sitting
as still as a statue with his head propped up on his hand. The lesson
was no more than a drone, a hollow sound that echoed in his unreceptive
mind.

The same dream that had been so vexing him had plagued him once more
just before waking that morning. The images were as strong as ever, yet
still just as disjoint. Some were repeating themselves. Multiple times
he had seen the woman throw her wedding band at the man. He would see
the man duck, and the ring continue past him, and ...

.... and then the dream would fade out.

Richie hated thinking about his dreams. To him, dreams were supposed to
be just weird bits of nonsensical verse to be forgotten by breakfast.
Worse, he could summon them up again in crystal clarity only while he
was in his room. The moment he stepped out, they became fuzzy, and he
could no longer see any of the details.

The bell rang, jerking him out of his stupor. He muttered a curse as he
swept up his notebook -- not a single mark having been entered in it
since class began -- and stuffed it into his backpack so hard that the
cover tore from the spiral binding. He followed this with another
guttural curse as he stood.

"Mr. Gardner, I need to see you, please," said Linda.

Richie frowned and marched sullenly to the desk. "Yeah?"

Linda cast a sharp look at him, but made no further note of his
disrespect. Her eyes flicked over the other students as they left. She
waited a few moments before speaking again. "I'm sorry to bother you
with this. But I wanted to know if anything was wrong."

Richie made a face. "Huh?"

"I couldn't help but notice that you were slacking off again today. And
after you have been doing better."

"Why should you care?"

"Because I am still your teacher, despite ..." She paused, glancing
past Richie for a moment. She lowered her voice. "Despite our
arrangement."

Richie smirked. "What, I can't get a good grade outta this?"

"No, you can't. We have to keep the two separate. I've already told you
this."

Richie had not wanted a confrontation. Had he not been in a sour mood
already, he would have made some perfunctory conciliatory noise and
moved on. But as it was, Linda was just making him more angry. "Then
maybe I don't want this arrangement. Maybe I don't want to fuck you
again."

Linda's eyes widened in alarm.

Richie grinned. "Yeah, that got ya worried, huh?"

"I am more concerned about your language," Linda said in a shaky voice.

"Nah, that's not it. You're really worried I'd cut you off."

Linda looked annoyed. "This is not something I have to worry about
being 'cut off' from ..."

"C'mon, don't give me that. You can't get enough of me. Admit it. You
want to it keep comin'." Richie suddenly chuckled. "Cummin', get it?"

Linda took a deep breath and shifted in her seat. "Richie, stop it,"
she whispered in a husky voice.

"Why? Did I get you thinkin' about cumming with my cock inside you?"

"No more, please," Linda said firmly, though her voice still quavered.
"Not now."

"Then how 'bout later? After school?"

"We can't do this every day, Richie, it's too risky."

"You want it. You have to have it."

Linda's sex felt achy and warm. Her nipples tingled and swelled. Richie
saw the telltale bumps against her blouse and grinned. She shifted in
her seat and uttered a soft, lusty sigh. She pressed her thighs
together as if attempting to contain her arousal, but it made her pussy
go from warm to hot.

"I-I won't trade grades for sex, Richie," she murmured.

"Fine, I don't want a stupid grade from you. I'll do the work, 'kay?
Just don't freakin' bug me about paying attention in this stupid
class."

Linda swallowed and nodded.

"How soon will you get home today?" Richie asked.

"R-richie, not ... please ..."

"How soon?"

"We ... I ... f-four o'clock," Linda said softly, her eyes smoldering
with desire. "Four. I'll be there at four."

"And you'll be naked, right?"

Linda blushed. "If ... if you want me to ..."

"Cuz I don't like to wait. I wanna get right to it. Fuck you good and
then leave."

Linda moaned. Every word was getting her more horny. "Yes, Richie ...
please, stop there. I still have to get through the rest of the day."

Richie smirked. "Yeah, okay. I'll see ya later."

Linda swallowed again and nodded. She watched him go with a mixture of
relief and longing. She turned way from the door and tried to take some
calming breaths. With Richie no longer in the room, it was easier for
her to get back onto an even keel. Her pussy still felt wet and
needful, but some of the flames of lust had been doused.

She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. Her voice was still
edged with lingering desire. She knew it would not go away completely.
Her own fantasy would fuel it, a fantasy that should have remained
caged in the back of her mind. Ever since Richie had ... whatever he
had done to her, the fantasy had escaped, and it resisted all attempts
to rein it in.

Richie was not reaching into her mind and molding her as he had done
before. Instead, he was using her own illicit desires to control her.
In a way, this was worse than total enslavement. And she had no idea
how to get herself out of it.
<1st attachment end>


----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format.  The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+