Heather Sovert pounded on the bathroom door. "Melinda!"

Just barely heard over the sound of the rushing water was a curse and the swish of a shower curtain being yanked to one side. "What?!"

"How the hell much longer are you going to take?!"

"Forever!" came her little sister's indignant reply. "If you keep interrupting me!"

"You're going to use up all the hot water!"

"Oh, forgive me, my Queen! You're so generous to allow us peasants the use of the royal hot water!"

"You suck, Melinda!"

"Love you too, sis!" There was another swishing noise, then just the sound of the water running.

Heather was about to make another sharp retort but it died before it could reach her lips. She folded her arms under her naked breasts, pushing them up into two swollen orbs. She tossed her head to one side in annoyance as a strand of her flaming red hair drifted before one of her green-gray eyes.

She tried to maintain her anger towards her little sister and failed miserably. With a forlorn sigh she turned and leaned her back against the frame of the bathroom door.

Heather wrapped her arms more tightly about herself, suddenly feeling self-conscious about her nudity. This was a first for the sixteen-year-old girl. Ever since the House, it seemed that both she and Melinda had become more comfortable with casual nudity, at least in the privacy of their own room.

Heather's eyes clouded. She had been blaming the House for a lot of things over the latter half of summer in the sleepy town of Haven. Not the least of which were her own feelings at the moment.

Her eyes drifted over the bedroom she shared with her thirteen-year-old sister. No, fourteen now, she corrected herself. With as preoccupied as Heather had been the last week or so, she had forgotten that it had been her sister's birthday not long ago.

The room still looked very different to her now. Heather used to have free reign in this room. Everything had centered around her. It was as if Melinda's presence was simply a courtesy that Heather had extended to her. But after everything that had happened between them that summer, Melinda had asserted herself and taken over her fair half of the room. Heather had not stopped her.

Unfortunately, now it made Heather feel like a stranger here.

She forced herself to drop her arms, her shapely breasts falling naturally again over her chest. The nipples were slightly raised. Heather felt a small tingle in her sex. A distressed look came over her face and she closed her eyes.

God, not now, please, she silently begged. She's my sister, dammit. She ...

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the shower stop.

"Finally," Heather muttered, and turned around in anticipation.

She passed the minutes impatiently. The silence was again filled, this time with a whirring noise.

"Argh! Melinda!" Heather shouted, pounding on the door again.

The whirring stopped. The door flew open. "What the fuck do you want?! Or are you afraid I'm going to use up all the hot air in the hair drier now?"

Heather paused a moment, and simply stared at her little sister.

Melinda Sovert stood with one hand on the knob of the door and the other holding a hair drier. Her straight, red-brown hair lay limp against her neck and back, brown eyes dark and indignant. Heather's eyes began to slide down Melinda's body. Heather caught herself before they could get much further than the round swells of Melinda's breasts, still smallish on the late-bloomer's chest. Heather's eyes rested briefly on the perky nipples before snapping back to Melinda's face.

"I just want to get ready for school, that's all," Heather said in a weaker voice.

"And you're so hot to go back?"

"Yes, actually, I am. I want to get the hell out of this place for a bit. You know why."

Melinda paused, her face falling. Yes, she knew. Or rather, she knew one of the reasons, the one shared between them.

"Yeah, sure," Melinda said acidly. "School will be soooo much better than this. Right."

She slammed the door loud enough to make Heather flinch. A second later, the whirring of the drier continued.

Heather covered her eyes with a hand briefly and sighed as she turned and leaned against the door frame again.

She had forgotten that this was going to be Melinda's very first day at Haven High School. Her little sister was going to have to deal with a new school on top of what the House had done to them.

Heather knew as the others did. The House had been an extension of the spirit of Mara Sanders, the woman that had been kept as a sex slave many decades ago. After escaping from this fate, a fate that had been induced by a drug that stole her mind and allowed another to command her completely, she had discovered that her mind had been permanently altered. She could see visions, and these visions had told her of the "darkness" that was coming to Haven.

Yet it was easier to think of the House rather than Mara. It was easier to hate something that was a physical entity rather than a ghost. It was easier to blame the House for giving them the same powers to enslave others as a sort of test, only to take it away and give them something else in return, something that made living in their own home a nightmare.

Heather suddenly felt ill with guilt.

Her little sister had it harder than she did. Heather sometimes could not see it, or could make it go away for a short time. Melinda saw it all the time. She saw it in people they passed on the street when Heather could see nothing or almost nothing. And Melinda was terrified of starting school this semester, of what she might see when she looked at the other students.

Yet Heather thought it preferable to seeing it in their own home.

Heather was so lost in thought that she did not realize Melinda was done until she caught Melinda stepping past her out of the corner of her eye.

"There, your majesty," Melinda said in a snide voice without turning around. She padded over to the dresser. "Have fun, Queen Bubblehead."

Heather's gaze lingered on her sister's naked rear as the younger sibling bent over to yank some underthings from the bottom drawer. "Hey, runt," Heather said in a soft voice.

Melinda bolted up and faced her big sister, shooting a glare. "What did I do wrong now?"

Heather paused again. Melinda's breasts had jiggled a bit as she stood. Maybe they were starting to grow some more after all, Heather thought, but quickly pushed it aside. "Um ... I'm sorry."

Another long pause. Melinda's anger faded. "Forget it," she said simply.

"Look ... if you want, I'll stick close to you today, okay? At least until we know ..."

"Until we know what?" Melinda snapped. Like a typical teenage girl, her indignation was on a hair-trigger. "Until we know who the bogeymen are?"

Heather forced herself to repress a smile. She remembered Melinda coining that term for people she saw with the aura. They had laughed at it, though it was just to stop them from being scared. Now Heather doubted Melinda had humor in mind when she said it.

"Maybe it's nobody," Heather said. "I mean, come on, they're kids."

"Yeah, and so were we when we found the House. What's your point? And what about the teachers, huh? Think I want to sit in a class with a teacher that looks like that?"

Heather sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, Melinda."

"Don't tell me anything, okay? No, wait, I take that back ... tell me how you do it."

Heather blinked. "Do what?"

"How you can ignore it. How you can make it go away."

"I can't do that."

"Yes, you can!" Melinda cried shrilly. "You can! I've seen you!"

"Melinda, don't shout," Heather said crossly, slipping back into big-sister mode.

"Then how are you able to stay in the same room with Mom for more than five minutes at a time?!" Melinda whisper-shouted.

Heather had been trying to avoid their mother for the past week, but it was hard to get Melinda to see this. The younger sister still was bitter over how Heather had been their mother's darling for so long, how their mother had bent over backwards for Heather and did little for Melinda.

"I don't know," Heather said quietly. "I don't know how I do it. Sometimes ... sometimes if I look at her in the right way, it sort of fades into the background."

Melinda shuddered. "I can't even get myself to look at her long enough for that to happen."

She got no response from her big sister, as there simply was nothing more to be said on the subject from either of them. Melinda just sighed and shook her head, turning away.

Heather was about to head into the bathroom when she paused. "Wait, Melinda, turn around again."

Melinda whirled. "What now?"

Heather's eyes drifted down Melinda's naked body. A very small shudder went through her. "You shave?"

Melinda looked puzzled. "What, and you don't shave your own legs?"

"No, I don't mean that, I mean your ... "

"My what?"

"Your ... your pubes."

Melinda's eyes widened. She blushed. "Okay, yeah, I do. So?"

Heather's eyes lingered on Melinda's bare pussy. She had not had a very thick bush to begin with, but with it gone, Melinda's slot seemed to bulge from between her legs, despite how slim and tight the labia were. "Why are you doing it?" Heather asked in a weak voice.

Melinda's blush deepened. "Jason likes it that way," she said sheepishly.

Heather blinked. "Jason? You and he aren't ...?"

"No, of course not. He asked me to shave it just so it can sit behind my panties without him seeing it. Happy?"

"You're only thirteen!"

"Fourteen. I know it's hard for you bubbleheads to count that high but ..."

"Stop it, Melinda," Heather snapped. "You can't do this."

"Why not? I boinked him enough in the House."

"That was different! You were protected."

Melinda's cheeks were glowing scarlet now. "Heather, God, will you stop it?" she cried, flustered. "We're not stupid. Not every guy's like Brad the Wonder Twit."

"Shut up about him."

"Why? You dumped him, didn't you?"

Sometimes Heather wished she had not. It would have given her someplace to go during the last month of summer. And someone to distract her from thoughts she should not be having. "That's not the point. You were only doing it because ..."

"Heather, we like each other, okay? Yeah, maybe we did it before because of the ... you know ... but not now."

Heather swallowed. The slow burn in her pussy that had started when she first saw Melinda strip herself naked before heading into the bathroom for her shower was turning into a raging fire. Her nipples were hard and tingled madly. She squeezed her legs together tightly as heat flashed over her skin.

"Okay, never mind," Heather said shakily. "Sorry I mentioned it. Just get dressed for school, okay?"

Heather quickly turned and dashed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her before Melinda could notice her arousal.

Melinda sighed and shook her head. "Yeah, maybe you don't act like you hate me anymore, but you're still too bossy," she muttered.

"Jason!"

Jason Conner ignored his mother's shout from the bottom of the stairs for as long as he dared. He remained seated at his computer, his web browser opened to nearly ten different pages in as many windows. The one he had before him now, his eyes avidly tracking the text line to line, was a treatise entitled "Bioelectric Phenomena in Human Beings". The window just under it bore the title "Chaos Theory as Applied to Mass Suggestion", and another under it was labeled "Body Auras as Astral Projection -- A Case Study".

"Jason!"

Jason shook his head. Not yet. He had not heard the garage door go up.

He pushed a hand through his disheveled black hair. He had barely finished dressing just minutes before. Much of it had been done in front of the computer, eyes staring at a similar scientific report. It showed. His shirt was wrinkled, and his belt was loose, causing one side of his jeans to slip down and reveal the waistband of his briefs.

He furrowed his brow at something he just read. He uttered a small sigh. This did not appear to tell him what he wanted to know either. He closed the window and began to peruse the one about chaos theory.

Truth be told, Jason was not quite sure what he was looking for. Perhaps he was not looking for anything. He had done this same research several times over during the latter half of the summer and had found nothing to explain any of what he saw.

No, this time it was just a stalling tactic.

"Jason Herbert Conner!"

Jason rolled his eyes and silently cursed. That was as far as he could push it. If he pushed it further, he'd just bring his Mom up the stairs.

He leapt out of his chair, his lanky frame crossing the room in a few quick strides. His jeans threatened to slip further down his hips. He grabbed at it, looking almost comical as he held it from falling. He stepped over to the open door of his room even as he redid the belt. A sign on the outside of the door read "Captain's Quarters." Or it used to, as he had taped the word "Admiral" over "Captain" recently.

"What is it, Mom?" Jason called out as politely as he could muster.

"Get down here, now!"

"I'm getting ready for school, Mom! Give me a few more minutes."

At that moment, there was a soft chime from the PC. Jason turned his head and saw that the IM window had popped up.

"Jason, don't make me come up there, you get down here and ..."

In desperation, Jason latched onto the only thing he could think of. "You want me down there naked?"

"Huh? What ... you're not even dressed yet?!"

"I just got out of the shower! Give me a few minutes, 'kay?"

"Oh for ... If you miss the bus, young man, you're walking!"

Jason shook his head and turned away from the door. The school bus was not due for at least another half hour. It was just an excuse to get Jason downstairs to see his father before the man left for the hospital, where he worked as a neurosurgeon.

Or so he claimed.

Jason's jaw tightened as he crossed back to the computer. He did not want to see his father again until he had some of this sorted out. He wanted to understand what he was seeing and what it meant.

Yes, there was Mara's explanation. Sorry, but this was not good enough for Jason the empiricist.

His expression softened as he plopped himself into his seat and saw that it was "havenprincess1" that had IM'ed him, otherwise known as Melinda Sovert. He grinned and typed a brief "how are you" in response under his handle, "admiralgeek99".

After a few moments, Melinda replied, "Oh miss big bossy bubblehead is being a pill as usual"

Jason furrowed his brow and responded: "Thought she was getting better with all that"

Melinda replied: "yeah she was but shes been on my case 4 the last week." A second later she followed this with "oops sorry :("

Jason smirked. He had told Melinda when they started IM'ing each other that he despised chat-speak. Melinda sometimes forgot, but Jason really didn't mind. He typed: "It's okay. Maybe she's worried about school? You're nervous, too."

Melinda replied: "Don't know what her damn problem is, she can turn it off. I cant :("

Jason sighed. At least with her and Heather it was consistent. His ability seemed to flicker on and off. He couldn't stand being the same room with his father anymore. Sometimes he'd go a long while and everything looked normal, so long as he didn't think about it too hard. The moment his thoughts drifted, there it was. Seeing his father like that made him feel physically ill and emotionally drained.

Just as he was about to type a reply, there was a low rumbling sound under his feet. He nodded in satisfaction. The garage door was going up. His father would be gone in a few minutes.

"Sorry, Melinda, gotta go," he typed back. "Mom's kind of mad at me, so I have to placate her before I go. See you on the bus?"

Melinda sent back a quick reply: "Wait". She then began a longer response. "Heather knows we're doing it. Thought you should know."

Jason felt himself blush slightly, but he was smiling. If there had been anything good that came out of the incident with the House, it was that he now had a sex life. "She okay with it?" he typed back.

"I dont give a shit if she is. She cant stop us."

Jason sighed. "We won't have a lot of time anymore with school."

"yeah i know :( :( :("

Jason paused, then grinned. "Maybe we can 'study' together after school."

":giggle: yeah, study. You'll study me real good wont you? ;)"

"If you did that little thing I asked, yep."

":blush: thats how she found out."

"You mean she noticed it? You shaved it that well?"

":whimper: yes I got it really smooth for you."

Another rumble reverberated through the floor as the garage door went down.

Jason took a deep breath and let it go. He was letting his imagination run a little too wild with this. He already felt a stirring in his pants. He didn't need that sort of distraction right now.

Fortunately, something more pressing came up.

"Jason, if you do not get down here in one minute, your father will hear about this!"

Jason was actually relieved. If the conversation with Melinda had continued along these lines, he was going to need relief of an entirely different sort.

"I'm going to look forward to it. I have to go, Mom's calling. I'll see you later."

"OK. BB."

"I'm coming!" Jason called out. He quickly logged out of his IM and stood. He swiped his hair with his comb a few times and jogged out of the room, grabbing his backpack by the door as he went.

As soon as he turned into the hallway, he saw the auburn-haired woman standing at the bottom of the stairs, her arms folded, her face set hard. Jason paused and sighed. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said softly.

"Your father wanted to see you off on your first day back," said Audrey Conner in clipped tones. "He purposely delayed some appointments this morning so he could."

Jason had wondered why his father had not already been gone by the time he awoke. Henry Conner worked such long hours anymore that it was a rarity that he and Jason were in the house at the same time anymore. For the time being, this suited Jason just fine.

Jason trudged down the stairs, aware of his mother's glare on him the whole time. Jason hated antagonizing his mother like this. He still felt guilty over what he had done to her when he had had the power that the House had given him. Several times he had controlled her to make her rescind a punishment.

Since then, Audrey never dared mete out punishment to Jason herself. It was always "your father will hear about this." And he always did. It was simply that Jason then rarely heard from his Dad past that.

In fact, if Jason started talking back to his mother, she would grow flustered and fearful, as if expecting that he was going to do it to her again. He doubted that she ever fully understood what had happened to her. All she knew was that it had frightened her very badly.

From what Jason had seen, however, he was sure that his father had understood.

"I'm really sorry, Mom," Jason said contritely. He didn't have to fake it. He didn't hate his father. He just wanted to avoid the man until he more fully understood what was going on.

Audrey uttered a suffering sigh. "I guess I should be glad you're not like the other kids and give your parents a hard time about going back to school."

Jason gave her a wan smile. Admittedly, this time around, he was not really that enamored of going back. He hated the idea of his time with Melinda being curtailed so much. It was not just about the sex. He just liked her, period.

And like Melinda, he was a little afraid of what he might see among the other students. Or the faculty.

Jason could not help but be a little cheeky here. "And I'm unlike a lot of students in another way. I pull straight A's all the time."

One corner of Audrey's mouth rose. "I am very grateful for that, young man. Now just make sure you keep it up. Don't let your girlfriend distract you."

Jason blushed at this, even though it was unlikely his mother was thinking about the same thing he was when the word "distraction" was mentioned. He managed a small smile. "I'll try not to, Mom."

The water from the shower hit Heather hard as she stood slightly bent over, the water cascading off her back. It swirled about her feet up to her ankles, the water coming down a little too fast for the slow drain to keep pace. She slid one foot abruptly to the side and back, splashing water almost to the top of the tub. She leaned forward, one hand on the wall of the shower before her, the other between her legs.

Heather's eyes were closed, her lips parted, her hair laying limply against her back and shoulders. She panted softly, the sound lost in the constant rush of water. Her fingers slid over her slick pussy. She shivered despite the steam that rose around her like a thick mist.

The heat inside the shower was stifling, and sweat joined the water and the moisture of her arousal. When she breathed, it felt as if she were suffocating. Her need was too great to pause and adjust the water. At least this way she could not be seen or heard were Melinda to suddenly open the door.

Heather moaned loudly, cutting it off in the middle and turning it into a strained whimper as she bit her lip. Her breathing became ragged as she thrust her fingers into her tight cunt, pumping them in and out of her in an increasing frenzy.

Heather was growing as scared as she was excited. What had the House done to her? And why was it suddenly getting worse?

Her breathing grew ragged, her body quivering as she soared. The fingers of her hand on the wall curled as her body tensed. Her pussy strained at the edge as she stroked herself with an urgency that bordered on frantic.

Her thoughts lingered over the vision of her sister standing naked before her, pussy brazenly shaven and bare. They were interspersed with memories of that day at the House, and of Melinda licking her pussy, and of her cumming in her sister's sweet little face ...

She uttered a short cry as her body shuddered. A single spurt of hot fluid squirted from her pussy, splashing to the bottom of the tub. She came hard, her cunt throbbing deeply. She pressed her fingers firmly against her slot, rubbing her sensitized clit, keeping her orgasm going for as long as she could.

When she was finally spent, Heather whimpered again in despair. Her hand fell away from her pussy, and she leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Finally, she stumbled forward and shut off the shower.

She was utterly confused. She had never harbored even a remotely sexual thought about her sister. Then the House came along, and Richie took control of both of them one day and made them go at it like sex-starved lesbians. Both had been thoroughly revolted by it when they had come out of it afterward.

Yet in the days that followed, Heather discovered she had not been quite as repulsed by it as Melinda had. Once Mara was gone from the House, her thoughts continued to stray back to memories of that day. Their new propensity for going around unabashedly nude before each other in the mornings began to arouse Heather at odd times.

Usually she could ignore it. It was mild enough that she could focus her mind on something else and it would pass. But this past week had been different. Now these moments aroused her intensely enough that she had to obtain relief.

Heather finally straightened and slid the shower curtain back with a swipe of her hand.

Melinda's voice from the other side of the door jolted her. "About time you're done, Mom's been asking about you."

The mention of their mother helped make her crash back down to Earth. All thoughts of her sister as anything but a sibling flew from her mind for the time being. Heather's voice cracked slightly as she called out, "Tell her I'll be done in a little while. I have to dry my hair."

A pause. Then a pleading voice: "Heather, please hurry, okay? I ... I don't want to be left alone with her too long."

Heather took another breath and let it go as a rattling sigh. "I won't be long, I promise," she said.

Heather turned and looked at herself in the mirror. Her nipples were still prominently erect, as if some part of her were still entertaining notions of Melinda as anything other than a sister.

She shook her head and grabbed a bath towel. Everyone else had been left with one thing as a legacy of their experience with the House. Heather had been left with two. It suddenly became a lot easier to hate Mara herself as much as she hated the House.

Richie Gardner stomped out of the bathroom and to his dresser, his brown hair tousled and damp, his freckled face twisted into a scowl. He muttered dark curses to himself as he yanked a drawer open and started tossing bits of clothing over his shoulders towards the bed, only half of which actually hit the mark.

Richie slammed the drawer shut. He turned and saw where his clothing had landed. More stomping and more cursing, and his clothes were now in a heap at the foot of the bed. The briefs were at the bottom, which necessitated more flinging, more cursing, and when some landed on the floor again, more stomping and muttering as well.

He was finally in his underwear when there was a yawning voice at the door. "What's with all the fucking racket in here?"

Richie's mother Sandra Gardner, bleary-eyed, her blond hair limp and a bit stringy, squinted in the light. A loose-fitting robe was wrapped haphazardly around her normally voluptuous body, though there was little evidence of that now. The only exception were her breasts, which rolled and jiggled under her robe as she moved.

Richie just glared in her general direction and muttered again, grabbing his jeans with a swipe of his hand.

Sandra frowned. "What, you goin' somewhere today?"

"Yeah, the circus is in town. I'd thought I'd run off with them."

Sandra sneered. "As what, one of the clowns? Fuck, I'm not in the mood for this before I've had some goddamn coffee."

"What week is this, Mom?" Richie asked in exasperation.

Sandra paused, looking both thoughtful and confused. "Uh ..."

Richie snorted. "Is asking you the current month too tough, then?"

"Don't be a fucking smartass. I was up late last night and didn't expect to hear you stomping around like a herd of frickin' elephants."

"Yeah, and I knew what you were doing, too."

"Don't start with that shit again. We had that out about a month ago when ..." She paused and blinked, then slapped her forehead. "Aw, fuck. This is first week of school, isn't it?"

"We have a winner," Richie said sourly as he pulled on his shirt.

"Fuck. We have to get you supplies. Goddamn, when do you have to be at school? Do ...?"

Richie reached around the other side of the bed and hauled a backpack into view, plopping it down onto his bed. He opened it and tipped it towards her so she could see the notebooks and other supplies within. "Already done. See? Don't have to worry about me anymore. I can take care of myself."

"And where the fuck did you get the money for all that?"

"From your purse. Where the hell did you think I got it from?"

Sandra glared at him but otherwise said nothing. Anything she could say Richie could just fling back at her. "I suppose it's too much to ask that you do well this year? What is it, your sophomore year?"

"Very good, Mom!" Richie said acidly. He reached down to slip on his sneakers and tie them. "Now see if you can guess my age."

"Cut the shit, all right? I'm not in the mood."

"And I'm not in the mood to go back to that crappy school. We're even."

Sandra's eyes blazed. "Richie, at least look at me when you smart-mouth me."

Looking at his mother was the last thing he wanted to do. If he looked at her, he might see it. He didn't want to see it. He didn't want anything to do with the House.

The House had promised him power. It had cheated. It had made it into some kind of stupid test. If he had taken the power, the others would have had to stay enslaved for the rest of their lives. He hadn't bargained on that. He had wanted the power simply to help him set things right for himself. He didn't want any more than that. Not much more, anyway.

But instead of just letting him go, it had to give him something else instead, something that just reminded him every day of how totally fucked up his life was at home. At how totally fucked up his mother was.

He didn't want it. He hated it. Why should he care about this damn "darkness?" Mara didn't even give it a name. As the weeks passed, he had wondered if it were all just some stupid fairy tale to scare them off from ever wanting a power like this again.

Richie finished tying his sneakers and stood. He finally shifted his eyes to Sandra. He did not want to see it.

He didn't. Sandra simply stood there as she always did, her body cloaked in nothing more than just her robe.

"Fine, I'm looking at you," Richie said, though some of the edge was gone from his voice. "What now?"

Sandra gave him a forlorn look, her own anger draining. Richie was growing up faster than she could fathom. This was a far cry from just a few years ago, when she had to drag him, literally kicking and screaming, into the car and then into the school. She could never get him to stand still to wait for the bus on the first day back. He would always run off the moment her back was turned.

Now he had bought all his supplies himself and was readying himself to go off to school, even though he hated it. He had actually taken responsibility for something.

Sandra wondered what Richie would do if she tried to hug him at that moment. She decided it was not worth the risk right now.

"Just do your best, okay?" Sandra said in a softer voice.

Richie gave her an odd look.

"Are those other kids going to be at the school too? The nerdy kid, what's his name ..."

"Jason?"

"Yeah, him."

"Yeah, of course he is. What of it?"

"Stick close to your friends this year, Richie."

Richie frowned and stared. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Sandra sighed. "Just ... just look out for yourself."

"I always do. I have to around here, don't I?"

Sandra frowned, but in reality that statement had hurt. "Just do as I say for once," she snapped, her voice faltering. "Know who your friends are. Don't screw around with people you don't know."

As Richie continued to stare at his mother in confusion, something changed.

It started as a slight shimmer, like heat rising from a hot road. It was indistinct at first, barely there. Then it began to swirl, flowing like a black mist, coiling around her mother's form.

His eyes widened. No, he did not want to see this!

He turned away and scooped up his backpack, and barreled out of the room, eyes downcast as his mother scrambled out of the way.

"Gotta go, see ya," Richie mumbled as he passed her.

Sandra just watched, nonplussed, as Richie bounded down the stairs and out the front door.

A car pulled off the street and into the parking lot behind Haven High School. It passed the sign that boldly declared "FACULTY PARKING ONLY" and pulled almost haphazardly into a space at the far end of the lot.

The sole occupant of the car killed the engine and stepped out. She peered over the top of the car, casting her tired gaze towards the rest of the lot. It was largely empty.

The middle-aged, chestnut-haired woman sighed through her nose and made a face, shaking her head slowly. Barely anyone else had shown up yet, and it was the first day of classes.

Haven High School Principal Laura Bendon reached into her car and grabbed her purse before slamming the door shut with an indignant look on her face. She already knew she hated this job, but no worse than at the start of a semester. Besides having to face yet another nine months of playing babysitter to a bunch of teenagers, she had to hold an assembly and give the standard start-of-semester talk.

Many of the students thought the assembly and the speech just so much bullshit. That's in large part because it was, and Laura realized this. But it was expected of her, so she did it purely out of duty. She had become very good at fooling even herself that it was at all useful.

Laura headed into the building, dangling her purse by her side. Her heels clacked loudly against the hard floor, echoing through the largely empty hallways. Her skirt swished around her calves, black stockings peeking out from beneath the hem. A plain dark blue blouse clung loosely to her full-figured form.

Silently, she made the plea she always did at the start of a new semester. Let this be a quiet year. She usually got her wish. Occasionally the board of education tried to throw something at her, usually some new, ill-conceived policy or program. They had done that last year, but all it had taken was one parent making a huge stink over it to effectively kill it.

Laura hoped that would not happen again. She hated dealing with parents more than she hated dealing with the students. She almost always gave into the parents. It was just easier that way.

She entered the administrative area and glanced over to where her receptionist normally sat. There was no evidence she had even come in yet. Everything sat as it had at the end of the previous semester.

Laura pushed the door to her office open and let the door bang against the wall. She dropped her purse onto her desk and let go another sigh, looking down at her chair on the other side of the desk.

That chair was a dead end. While she was sitting in it, she went nowhere. So long ago, she thought this is what she had wanted out of life. She realized only in the last year or two how utterly wrong she had been. She had nothing here. Yet there was nothing at home, either. But the nothing here was the better of the two. Here, she could distract herself enough so that it no longer mattered.

Behind her, the door closed.

Laura lifted her head, frowned, and then whirled around. "Who ...??"

"Good morning, Principal Bendon. I'm ready to start."

For a moment, Laura was too nonplussed to reply.

Standing before the now closed door to the principal's office was a young woman, clad in a simple uniform of gleaming white. It clung to her shapely figure as if it had been sewn directly to her body rather than worn. It molded itself to the large swells of her breasts, the neckline taking a sudden, sharp plunge between them. Through the gap, the sides of her orbs were squeezed against one another. It clung to the flare of her hips, ending abruptly near the tops of her thighs. Her long legs were bare, perfectly smooth and unblemished. Shoes of the same glowing white with four-inch heels graced her feet.

She stepped forward. Ruby-red lips curled into a smile that was both pleasant and sultry. Eyes of bright ice blue peered from a sweet face framed by luxurious falls of golden hair.

"Is there a problem, Miss Bendon?" she said. Her voice oozed like honey, with a hint of huskiness to it. When she took her next breath, her bosom swelled against her uniform, squeezing her breasts even more tightly together and the fabric even more taut across their expanse.

Laura blinked a few times. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

The vision in white advanced on her. "Aren't you expecting me, Miss Bendon?" she asked. Her voice was sweet and cloying. Her movements were slow and deliberate. Her hips swung with each step. Each foot came down with a distinct clack of her heel.

Laura felt her heart thump loudly in her chest. She felt both repulsed and enticed by this golden-haired beauty. She took a deep breath and let it go, casting an officious look at the woman. "I am quite sure I would recall it if I were expecting such as the likes of you. Just who are you?"

"I am Nyssa Neris. Your school's new nurse."

Laura could not get her heart to stop pounding, and now a wave of heat spread over her skin. Her gaze rose to Nyssa's, and a tiny shiver went through her. Looking into those eyes was like descending into an icy depth.

"I'm sorry, Miss, er, Neris ..."

"Please, call me Nyssa."

Laura shuddered at the snake-like sibilance to the "s". She swallowed and made an effort to regain her composure. She set her gaze hard and stony, like the kind she used at faculty meetings.

"You seem to be misinformed, Nyssa," Laura said in a steadier voice. "We do not need a new nurse. We already have one."

"Perhaps it is you that is misinformed, Miss Bendon."

Laura's heart began to race. Nyssa's voice had dropped into a more sultry tone, sending an odd tingle through her body. "I think I would know who I have on my own faculty. Our nurse is Emma Tanner, who ..."

" ... had to leave town ... unexpectedly." Nyssa smiled. There was an almost wicked gleam to her eyes.

"I would have known if that was the case."

"Perhaps the paperwork was delayed. It doesn't matter. I am here to replace her. I am very eager to start."

There was a husky cadence to that one word that made Laura tremble and her whole body flush hot. When she spoke again, her voice was a little weak. "And ... and just who assigned you to this school, Nyssa?"

Nyssa smiled. "Who do you think?"

Laura sighed. Yes, leave it to the Board of Ed to do this to her on the first day. Yet without paperwork, she was not required to do a damn thing. "This is most irregular, Nyssa. I cannot simply accept your word on this," she said, some conviction returning to her voice.

"I'm so sorry to hear you say that, Miss Bendon."

Laura shivered as Nyssa's voice dropped into increasingly husky, sultry tones.

"Perhaps you should take another look. Perhaps the paperwork is there. Perhaps you'll find something."

Nyssa's voice was like a narcotic, making Laura feel lightheaded and weak.

Laura managed to tear her gaze away from Nyssa. As she turned away from the nurse, her legs quivered. She placed one hand on the desk to steady herself before swallowing hard and stepping over to the filing cabinet.

Laura opened one of the drawers and began thumbing through the folders. It was largely haphazard, as her hand was shaking so badly. "Really, Nyssa, I don't see the point of this. If you had applied for a position here, I would have ... have ..."

She trailed off.

Nyssa's hand lay lightly atop Laura's. Laura swallowed as the fingers traced slow circles along the back of Laura's hand. They slid slowly up her arm, and she shuddered as a wave of pleasure rippled though her body, causing her breath to escape as a husky sigh.

Finally Laura yanked her arm away as if burned. "Stop it!" she cried in a weak voice, whirling around. "Just what do you ... think ... you're ...?"

Her gaze met Nyssa's. Laura's eyes widened, shimmering with fear as they were pulled into the ice blue of Nyssa's eyes.

Nyssa advanced on her. Laura started to pant, edging backwards even as her eyes remained locked with Nyssa's, unable to pull away. Her legs fetched up hard against the side of her desk. Her hands clutched at the edge until the knuckles turned white.

When Laura spoke, it was barely above a whisper. "What ... what are you d-doing to me ...?"

"I'm so sorry you think you can't hire me."

Nyssa's voice had gone beyond sultry, or any other human measure of sensual intensity. Laura no longer heard it so much as experienced it, suffusing her mind with a pall of growing desire, her body quivering in response. Laura shuddered, her legs shaking, her feet sliding apart. She felt part of herself falling into the icy depths of Nyssa's eyes.

"But perhaps I can persuade you otherwise."

A small whimper issued from between Laura's barely parted lips. Despite the chill that was drawing itself into her mind, her body felt hot. One of Nyssa's hands touched hers again. She moaned as the heat centered itself in her sex.

"S-stop ... p-please ... " Laura murmured, her voice barely audible.

Nyssa drew closer, pressing her body against Laura's. Laura shook with a lust she had not felt in a very long time, and never at this intensity. Her pussy felt steamy and swollen under her soaked panties. The part of her mind that was still untouched moaned with intense sexual need. The part of her that continued to fall into the icy depths silently screamed in terror.

"After all ... I have a very special medical program for your students ... And when you hear it ... I am sure you will be just as ... excited ... by it as I am."

Laura tumbled into the endless expanse of ice blue until there was little left, save for her increasing lust. When slim fingers slipped under her panties and over her wet flesh, she gasped and moaned, her body quaking violently. Her final protest died before it could reach her lips.

"Now ... as I tell all my patients ... "

Nyssa leaned forward. Her fingers squished softly in Laura's pussy. When Nyssa spoke again, Laura could feel hot, moist breath on her lips.

"This won't hurt a bit ..."

Nyssa's lips touched Laura's in a gentle kiss. Fingers sank deeply into Laura's cunt.

Laura exploded into the most intense orgasm she ever had in her life as she was lost in an endless expanse of icy blue.

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