Cassie hated having to do this, but sleep would elude her in her current state. While her augmented abilities might work while she was awake, she felt so emotionally drained that she needed the comforting quiet of her dreamscape to aid her. She shifted under the sheets, soft fabric sliding over spreading legs. Soon, a low, lusty sigh rose into the dark.

Cassie had no choice, assaulted with the raw sexual desires of three of her fellow Harbingers. She had managed to steel herself against Melinda's lust-ridden psyche, but first Heather then Richie came crashing through. Now her pussy was wet and wanting, and the feeling would not go away on its own. Their emotions had twined with hers until she could no longer discern her own from theirs.

Her hand moved faster, her fingers stroking her clit with little delicacy. With as wet as she was, chafing was the least of her problems. Nevertheless, she was slow to rise. Her pussy still ached from her earlier activities and was reluctant to give her another orgasm. Or she was fooling herself, and she wanted to cling to the others' emotions, like an addict increasing his drug dose.

Cassie realized that this was the real danger with her new-found abilities. The power to sense other emotions was intoxicating. The reason mystified her, and she did not want to scrutinize it. She feared she would discover that she could mold emotions as well as sense them.

Cassie gasped and tilted her head back. Her back arched, her fingers whipping back and forth until she peaked and crested. She let go with a deep sigh, pressing her fingers into her throbbing mound. At the height of her climax, she pined for Ned's cock or Diane's tongue. She moaned as she brought herself down slowly, her body settling down as it relaxed.

Her lust had finally cooled. Heather and Richie had become quiet earlier that evening, and now Melinda was finally quiescent. No matter how much their sex drive and endurance had increased, she imagined Melinda would be sore in the morning.

Cassie had to put it all out of her mind. That night would be her next to last chance to help Gina. Her heart thumped. She was unsure how far she could push Gina's resistance, or if anything she had done before had taken.

She settled herself down to an uneasy sleep.

The veil is gone, and she is stunned at what she sees.

A shifting kaleidoscope of thought and emotion flows like a river through the void, as if all of her dreamscapes have come together into a single, joined entity. Little more than a simple portal stands before her, a gray fog billowing in the doorway. She raises her hand, and the fog disperses as if chased before a summoned breeze.

She understands. The veils are the barriers, the places where minds meet in the dreamverse. They no longer exist for her. She is both excited and humbled at this revelation. Yet there is no time to dwell upon it. She turns to the portal and steps through.

She is inside Gina's psyche once more, manifesting as little more than a shadowy thought at the edge of Gina's subconscious. Ahead of her, in a circle of light, Gina's day reveals itself. Cassie despairs as she witnesses Gina's fall to Brad, and her willing acceptance of everything that Victor had taught her.

Cassie gasps as a sound rises from the darkness like the hiss of a serpent about to strike. It takes on tangible form, whirling about the sphere of consciousness encapsulating Gina's thoughts, as if trying to get in but managing only to skirt the surface.

She approaches, her steps measured and cautious, and strains to hear. She reaches out a hand, letting it touch the rushing flow of energy. Instead of an expected icy chill, her hand is bathed in gentle, hopeful warmth.

"... lied ... he lied ... Victor lied ..."

Cassie turns her head, and is somehow not startled to see Gina standing there, her hands folded before her.

"Victor lied," Gina says. "He really did. I can say it and nothing's happening. It's like Victor can't hear it."

Cassie feels the hairs on the back of her neck rise. She looks behind her and is certain she can hear distant footsteps.

Gina takes her hand. "But he might sense you. Please, this way."

Cassie is as surprised as she is pleased. It is not just a trick, a way of baiting her to delve further into Gina's psyche where Victor's shadow can converge on her. With her new empathic abilities she would have sensed that. She could even sense the presence of the "guards" as they trekked through the labyrinth of dungeon-like corridors without hearing them.

But her abilities go only so far. She loses track of where she is the further they go. She will not be able to get herself out again. She would have to rely on Gina once more.

Gina takes them almost to the core of her psyche. Just short of it, Gina suddenly dives down a narrow, dark corridor that had not been there before, dragging a stumbling Cassie along with her.

"We have to keep going," Gina says, her voice raspy as if the darkness were trying to swallow her voice. "I had to put it here. It's the only place Victor can't reach right now. But we can't linger or--"

Very soft and very distant, a foot scuffs against stone.

"Come on!" Gina whispers, and pulls Cassie into the black.

It swallows Cassie like a flood of thick tar, clinging and sticky, her feet faltering as they seem to adhere to the stones. She loses all sense of direction, even up or down, until pink-white light blazes ahead of her, and she emerges into a room.

Cassie staggers into the center of the space, her surroundings spinning in a blur of bubble-gum pink, gleaming white, and bright cherry red.

She hears a door close, and a sudden and almost euphoric calm settles over her. Everything abruptly comes into focus, and she stands in a bedroom. "Wait, this is ... this can't be ..."

"It's a safe place," Gina says. "He can't touch me in here."

Cassie looks around again and perceives a bedroom that is an idealized vision of childlike innocence. Large, bright hearts fill the walls, the spaces between filled with cute bunnies and adorable teddy bears. Along the baseboard trim are sunflowers with shining smiles and leaves spread as if inviting a hug.

And everywhere, inside the hearts, curling about the little ribbons that joined the cavorting bunnies and frolicking bears, circling the sunflower faces like halos, written in girlish curlicue script are two words over and over: VICTOR LIED.

"He claimed that I had my first sexual experience with Brad in his office," Gina says. "He claimed he never touched me sexually since I wasn't ready. He lied. He made me think it was Brad, but it was Victor that did it."

Cassie is too astonished to speak at first. Finally, she tears her gaze from the walls and stares at Gina. "How did you find out?"

"It's complicated. But I managed to get myself to say something to Brad, and he revealed the truth without realizing it. Victor made a mistake. He never made Brad believe the lie; he just counted on me obeying his directive not to mention anything about it to Brad."

"What of Gina? I mean you. The REST of you," Cassie says, exasperated. "Does she realize it as well?"

"It's all in here in this room. No one but you knows it's here."

Cassie looks around the room and is disturbed, not because of the childlike nature of the decor but how generic it appears. Aside from the words, the room itself could have been a furniture store showroom, just bland pieces of reality shoved together to approximate a home setting.

Cassie looks back at Gina. "What do you want to do next?"

Gina wrung her hands. "I-I don't know."

"We should figure out some way to ease Victor's control of you. Maybe expand this room and ... well ... flesh it out."

Gina gives Cassie a despairing look. "But I don't know how!"

Cassie wants to give reassurance that she would lend Gina whatever energy was needed, until she looks into Gina's frightened eyes and realizes that is not the problem.

"I told you before that I don't know who I am," Gina says.

"What about your core, the place you retreated to last time?"

"It's just an empty space. A void. That's all I am."

Cassie's eyes widen. "Gina, you don't mean Victor erased your memories completely?"

Gina's eyes glisten. She shakes her head. "There's nothing missing because there was never anything here to begin with!"

Cassie's heart thumps. "I don't understand," she says, but her spine grows icy with dawning realization.

"I'm the intruder, not Victor!" Gina cries. "I wasn't here before maybe a few months ago, when Mom ... wh-when Mom started acting different."

"Oh my God ..."

"I've ... GINA'S been this way all her life."

Cassie feels sick. Suddenly the idea that Victor is immortal makes sense, as did his superhuman patience and meticulous sense for detail.

Gina touches her arm. Her heart lurches when a tear runs down Gina's face. "He BRED me this way, didn't he? Right from birth. I was born just to become a slave."

Cassie covers Gina's hand with her own, only to find her own hand is shaking as well. She swallows hard and nods, her throat too tight for words for the next few seconds. "You said your mother was acting differently. Was she trying to stop it?"

"I don't know. She was letting me make my own decisions and decide what I wanted to do with my time. But she's too far gone now. Victor did something to her, and now she's just his little puppet again. But not before she created me."

Cassie never expected this. Even if she could somehow magically lift Victor's control all at once, a near blank slate would be left behind.

"Giving up is almost easier," Gina says in a hollow voice. "At least I would have something. Some sort of identity. Some--"

"No!" Cassie says with such force that it startles Gina. "Stop talking like that! Victor doesn't want you to have an identity. He just wants you to be a mindless sex slave."

"Gina's not mindless. She--"

"It's as good as mindless if all she can think of is how to have sex!"

"What about you? You have power. You must, if you could reach me in here."

"What?"

"Can't you just take over? Take over Gina and make her obey you instead?"

"No!"

"But then you could reach me in here, and after Victor is gone, we could figure out how--"

"No, Gina, I can't!" Cassie cries. "Please, don't ask me to do that! We--"

Cassie's mouth drops open in shock as she realizes what she was about to say: we already have a slave.

In that brief moment, she sees the lie. She realizes what they have done to Diane. The moment does not last, but long enough to firm her resolve. "If we do anything of the sort, Gina, it will be working with YOU, giving you strength to take over YOUR own mind from within."

"But what do I fill it with?"

"When your mother was letting you do some things on your own, was there anything you really liked to do?"

Gina looks thoughtful for a moment. "I took walks."

"Walks? Where?"

"The little dirt road by the side of the house. The one with the old cemetery at the end, where I first saw Stephanie. I liked being around the trees, the wind, the silence. Oh, and the snow! I love fresh-fallen snow."

"That's it, then," Cassie says. "Focus on that. It's supposed to snow Sunday."

"It will? Oh, I really want to see it again! I want to see it lay on the trees and make them all pretty. I want to walk in it when it's still pristine." Gina's face fell. "But Victor will never let me do it."

Cassie considers. "Victor is training Gina, isn't he? I mean, not just sex, he's making you strut around in those outfits."

Gina nods. "Yes, he calls it presentation."

"Maybe you can find a way of convincing him it's part of that. Like it's practice or something."

Gina pauses for a long moment, then slowly nods. "All right. I'll try."

Cassie tries not to feel disappointed. She had expected to do something far more concrete. This seems like another baby step, and they did not have time for baby steps. Yet if it delayed Victor from finding out about their plans for one more day, it brought them that much closer to defeating him.

Gina touches Cassie's hand. "I wish I knew your name, but I understand why I can't." Her eyes still glisten but her lips curl into a ghost of a hopeful smile. "You've really helped me more than you can imagine."

Cassie slowly smiles.

Gina glances past Cassie. "Oh, look! What's that?"

Cassie whirls around, and sees a door in the opposite wall.

"It just appeared right now," says Gina.

Cassie edges towards it, but she feels no sense of dread. A pleasant, soothing warmth throbs from it in gentle waves. She opens it, and the dreamverse lies beyond. Cassie gasps in wonder as she realizes she can enter Gina's psyche at will without having to traverse the pathways guarded by Victor.

"I wish you didn't have to go," says Gina in a low voice.

Cassie turns back to Gina and hugs her. "I can get back to you quickly now," Cassie whispers in Gina's ear. "I might even be able to do it in the daytime."

"Yes, please, do so, if you can," Gina says. "I feel so lonely in here."

Cassie suppresses her own tears as she holds Gina's hands and nods, not trusting her voice.

"We better not leave that open too long, just in case Victor--"

"Yes, I know." Cassie retreats to the door. "I'll check on you again soon."

Gina smiles. "Thank you."

Cassie leaves. The door closes behind her and vanishes from her dreamverse. She is not concerned. She knows it will appear to her again when she needs it.

She feels a sense of exhilaration. For the first time, she feels she can embrace her powers.

She wonders if there is more she can do. Can she reach into Melinda's mind and wrest her from the control of the cult? Can she find Stephanie and break her free of her cage? Can she slip into Diane's mind and ...

...

She cannot remember what she would want with Diane.

She reaches out her hand, and the continuum rushes past until her fingers brush against another door. So sudden is the transition that she jumps back in surprise.

Her heart pounds. Melinda's personal dreamscape lies beyond. As she approaches it, her nose is suddenly filled with an overpowering aroma, so thick that she nearly gags. She gasps in air, only to draw more of the musky odor of an aroused pussy.

Still breathing hard and trying to ignore the warm tingles in her sex, she reaches for the doorknob. She snatches her hand away when it touches something warm, fleshy, and stiff.

Cassie swallows hard and watches herself grasp the doorknob. The sensation of gripping an erect cock returns, despite what her eyes tell her. Her pussy throbs in anticipation. She presses her free hand against the door, only to feel her fingers sink into aroused feminine flesh. She whimpers as pleasure rises in her pussy.

"No, th-this isn't real, it's just ..." Cassie protests, until her ears fill with deep, lustful moans and whispered seductions. She shudders and leans against the door, shivering as her fingers curl around the delightfully hard cock in her hand. She wants to stoke it and feel it throb in her fingers.

Her hand grasping the doorknob trembles, tenses, then lurches, giving the knob a tiny turn.

Cassie closes her eyes. The voices are relentless, drowning out her thoughts, filling her head with perverse enticement that makes her pussy drip.

( ... come in ... be ours ... fill with cum ... obey ... great pleasure ... no, don't ... sex toy ... submit ... no, get back ... complete slave ... totally ours ... get back Cassie ... never stop cumming ... constant pleasure ... NO CASSIE DON'T COME IN! GET AWAY!! )

Cassie shrieks and falls away from the door. The door vanishes, leaving her hurtling backwards ...

Cassie let out a cry as she hit the floor with a bone-jarring thump, still gasping for breath. Ignoring the pain where her hip had struck the floor, she pulled herself to her knees by the side of the bed.

Cassie listened to her own rasping breath for a full minute until her heart stopped racing. She struggled to her feet, pulling herself up with the bedpost. She clung to the post beyond the need for support, until its solidity convinced her of her return to the real world.

She let go, a tremulous sigh passing her quivering lips. Once her lingering fear had diminished, a sense of utter amazement came over her.

The door had been the correct one, and beyond it lay Melinda's psyche. Had she opened that door, her mind would have been enthralled to the cult as Melinda's had been. She had sensed that some small part of Melinda was still there, forced to watch herself be used as a puppet, clinging to the dreamverse as her only contact with sanity.

And yet it had been Stephanie's voice that had saved Cassie.

Charles' fork clattered to his plate. "Absolutely not!"

Lynn's fingers tightened around themselves and she let out a slow breath of poorly masked frustration. Next to her stood Kelly, whose demeanor was more controlled if no less unhappy. They stood just to the side of the long dining table where Charles was having breakfast, the wide window behind them milky white splotched with gray as clouds rolled off the mountains.

"She is to be released with no lingering influence on her," said Charles. "There are no orders to leave any sort of altered perceptions upon her mind."

"Yes, Prophet, I understand this," said Kelly. "I make the request as an additional task. We humbly--"

"Request denied, then."

Kelly fell silent. She turned her head towards Lynn, who pleaded with her eyes. Kelly turned back to Charles. "I apologize for my forwardness, Prophet. I simply feel we have earned a small reward for hewing to the Glorious One's wishes."

Charles narrowed his eyes. "It is not for you to interpret the Glorious One's orders," he said. "That is my responsibility. And I would remind you that there is no implied reward for following orders. You should be ashamed of such ... um, such blasphemy."

Kelly bowed her head low, and Lynn followed. "I beg forgiveness, Prophet," said Kelly.

"Now, go get her up, get her showered, get her some breakfast, and that is it."

Kelly straightened. "As you wish, Prophet." She and Lynn turned and walked away.

"I told you he wouldn't go for it," Lynn hissed through clenched teeth as they left the dining room. "We would've been better off talking to the Glorious One himself."

"One does not seek audience with the Glorious One unless all other options are exhausted," said Kelly without looking at her companion.

"Well, I would say this is pretty well exhausted, wouldn't you?"

"I do not like going over the Prophet's head. He is right. To assume reward is to court Holy Wrath."

"We're not!" Lynn cried. "We're asking for one. Humbly."

Kelly turned to her and offered a tiny smile. "You are one I would not think to use such a word to describe yourself. Very well. I will seek to commune with the Glorious One. You will set about obeying the Prophet's wishes concerning the slave. And do only what he says, Lynn."

Lynn frowned. "Yeah, fine, whatever. I'll wake up the little twat, wash her, and feed her. Never mind that my pussy could use another good licking." She spun on her heel and marched away, her robe billowing behind her calves.

Heather rushed from the bathroom, naked, her hair still damp from her shower, the drier still clutched in her hand. She had heard a clicking noise just as she started the drier, like the door to the bedroom closing.

"Melinda?" Heather called out.

She did not really expect Melinda back that soon, but she had no idea how or when her little sister would be returned. She had not sensed anything over the link that suggested she had been released from their control.

Heather started back towards the bathroom. She stopped again when she caught something out of the corner of her eye.

Her Sunday clothes had been laid out on the bed. Heather had not remembered doing so before taking her shower. She glanced at the door again and frowned. She lifted the dress and uttered a tiny gasp. Under the dress was a set of frilly black underwear.

Heather forced herself to drop the dress over it and back away. She darted into the bathroom and clicked the hair drier to its highest setting, as if hoping the heat and the rush of sound near her ear would drown out any thoughts the underwear had triggered.

It did little good. By the time her hair was dry and brushed out, her skin tingled in anticipation of the touch of the sexy underwear.

Dammit, this is so not fair, Heather thought as she lifted the dress aside once more. She licked her lips and let out a tremulous sigh as she stared at the panties.

She envisioned herself wadding up the panties, marching out of the room, and throwing them in her mother's face. She snatched the panties and spun on her heel, but as soon as her fingers slid over the silken material, a shiver of delight passed through her.

Dammit dammit DAMMIT ...

Heather let out a breath that was both husky with desire and tense with frustration. She stepped into the panties and pulled them up her legs, shivering at the slide of the silk against her skin. A soft sigh wafted from her lips as she pulled it to her folds, snug and delightful. The pinkness of her labia showed through the translucent fabric.

Eagerly, she sought the bra and put it on, letting out a low moan as she pulled it against her breasts to tie it in the back. She tugged the straps and felt a tingle in her stiffening nipples as her breasts bounced.

Her pussy and bosom felt as though they were wrapped in little more than warm breezes, soft and teasing. Her hips tilted and swayed as she shimmied into her dress, her movements a stark contrast to the simple, innocent elegance of her church clothes. They lost some of their innocence as her body continued to twist and sway to a silent sensual rhythm.

Heather doubted she would be able to confine herself to a more "ladylike" walk better suited for a Sunday service. Yet she wondered if anything could possibly humiliate her further.

And there was not enough sexy lingerie in the world to make her stop worrying about her little sister.

Victor stepped into Gina's bedroom, his eyes falling on the clothing that had been laid out on the bed. He sniffed the lingering scent of shampoo and moisture in the air. He looked to the window last, knowing that this was where he would find her.

Gina watched the silent flakes of snow waft down from gray-white clouds, her face placid and still. Everything was coated in a thin layer of frozen feathery down, Gina's eyes glittering like the icy flakes themselves that spun in her gaze.

Victor tilted his head, but his avatar reported nothing amiss. "Gina."

Gina turned from the window. "Yes, Master?"

"I expected you to be dressed by now."

"Oh." Gina crossed the room and picked up the bottom piece of the outfit. "I'm sorry, Master, I'll dress now."

Victor watched Gina slide the shiny leather up her legs and pull it snug over her crotch. He heard her small sigh of pleasure. He used the free moment to receive contact from an avatar in one of his cultists, the one within Kelly Reems. To Kelly, it would simply be a "communion" with the divine. This particular avatar did not exercise such rigid control as the ones he installed in slaves. If his cult had to operate in his stead for much of the year, they needed to be allowed independent thought.

As Gina put on the top piece, Victor asked, "So what did you see out the window that was so fascinating this time, Gina?"

"The snow, Master."

"The snow?"

Gina paused as the leather cups molded her breasts into round globes, a shiver of pleasure radiating from her nipples. "I always liked the snow," Gina said in a husky voice.

Victor paused as he again checked his avatar. He thought it odd that such a concept would manifest. Her overriding concern should be developing her sexual being. "And you saw nothing else out there?"

"No, Master, just the snow."

No hesitation. No wavering of her voice. No look of confusion. Perhaps, Victor wondered, he was becoming a bit paranoid after all.

He still mulled Kelly's request. He had wanted to release Melinda free of any lingering control to emphasize his generosity, and that this conflict need not come to anything but an amiable outcome. He desired nothing more than to wash his hands of these troublesome teens and never cross paths with them again.

Gina picked up her footwear and held it up, examining it with a curious gaze. Instead of shoes, Victor had opted for boots. Her hips squirmed as she felt the supple leather. Victor glanced at her crotch, knowing that her pussy was fast growing warm and steamy. As she bent down to put them on, her breasts weighed into her top. She gyrated her torso, letting the warm flesh play inside the leather.

"Leather can be confining," said Victor. "But it can also feel as if it is embracing you wherever it touches your skin. It can feel unyielding, trapping your desire behind it."

Gina shivered and set the boots on the floor. She slid a foot into one of them, and another soft moan escaped her parted lips.

Victor smiled. "Even on the feet. This is another lesson for you, Gina. Any place on your body can give sexual pleasure."

"Yes, Master," Gina said in a breathless voice as her foot reached the bottom. The heel was a touch higher than those on previous shoes she had worn, and the top of the boot lay halfway up her calf. She wriggled her toes as a pleasing warmth enveloped first her foot, then her calf and thigh.

"Now the other," said Victor. He again pondered Kelly's request. He could not justify it even as a means to maintain influence over the Harbingers. He could simply give them control of Diane for that.

Both boots in place, Gina stood up, her body trembling with desire. She raised her eyes to him. "Master, may I ask a question?"

"Yes, you may."

"May I be allowed to take a walk later?"

"Any particular reason why?"

"I like the snow. I like to walk in it, especially after it's just fallen."

Victor again glanced at the window. "Do you hope to see someone?"

Gina shook her head. "No, Master. But if I did, it would be good practice for me in presenting myself."

Victor chuckled. "Wearing a winter coat?"

"Shouldn't I be able to present myself no matter what I'm wearing?"

"Indeed. Very good, Gina. Yes, you are correct. I still find it an odd request."

"Mother told me 'no' the last time I had asked her. So I sort of miss it."

"And you would not mind if I accompanied you?"

"No, Master, of course not."

Victor was still wary. Everything was going well inside Gina's mind, yet this request was strange. "All right, Gina, but later. It will take some time for enough snow to build up to make it worth your while."

Gina smiled. "Thank you, Master."

And in that moment, when Victor's uneasiness refused to abate, he gave Kelly her answer.

Kelly stepped into the room and hid her chagrin when Melinda was clothed once more in what she had worn when she had first arrived. The small, placid smile on her face meant they had yet to expel her from the cult's influence.

Lynn stood nearby, looking miffed. The Prophet Charles eyed Melinda as if inspecting her.

"Is everything in order, Prophet?" asked Kelly.

Charles spun around. "It appears so." He sounded disappointed. He glanced at Lynn. "She should be made to sleep until she is returned, in case she reacts badly to being released from control."

Kelly nodded. "I can do as such before I perform the Expulsion, Prophet."

Charles sighed, looking frustrated. "I am not so good with such things."

"Which is why I offered, Prophet. Perhaps while you arrange for her transportation back home or check on Lydia once more."

Charles frowned and responded in a stiff voice, "Very well. Leave her asleep when you are done. It is important that she not awaken until she is back home."

"Of course, Prophet."

Charles left. Kelly closed the door behind him.

"Well?" Lynn prompted.

"The Glorious One has graced us with a reward. We may do as we requested."

Lynn's lips curled into an evil smile.

Kelly stepped forward. "Lynn, follow my lead. I have been told that this is to be buried as deeply as we can plant it. You are not the most subtle with the use of the Glorious One's power."

Lynn frowned. "There's no need to insult me."

Kelly turned to Melinda. "Slave, lie on the bed."

Melinda complied without hesitation.

Kelly and Lynn reached into Melinda's mind. Melinda yawned, her eyelids drooping. Withing less than a minute she turned on her side and was fast asleep.

"All right, she's ready," Lynn said, her voice quivering with excitement. "We Expel her first, then...?"

"Then we alter the reality of her sexual desire in a way that does not tie directly to us."

"But then how does that work if we want her to--"

Kelly smiled. "You will see."

Charles closed the door to Lydia's room and turned to the maid. "And she's been okay since this morning?"

"Yes, Prophet," said the maid. "Her agitation towards dawn was brief and unfocused. She even went back to sleep. It passed so quickly that I had chosen not to awaken you."

"Next time, please do not observe such kindness. I would prefer to know, no matter how trivial you may think it is."

The maid bowed her head. "My apologies, Prophet. Shall I have some sedative available?"

"No, not yet," said Charles. "She may be feeling nothing more than agitation at the coming Halloween ceremony. She should subside after tomorrow."

"Do you need to inform the Glorious One?"

Charles frowned. More of the cultists were questioning him in this manner. They had never once in the past presumed to ask such things. Yet Victor was guilty of a similar offense. While it was within his rights to "commune" with his flock, he had never felt the need, trusting Charles to handle such matters.

Charles was feeling more superfluous with each day that passed.

"Prophet?" the maid prompted.

"I'm sorry, my mind was elsewhere for a moment. No, we don't need to contact him just yet. Unless she does it again, we'll just assume it is an aberration."

The maid nodded. "As you wish, Prophet."

Charles sighed and pulled out his cell phone. "I need to arrange for a time to deliver the girl back to her family."

Heather squirmed in the back seat of the family car, just to feel her silken panties tug against her sex. She was wet, but not so much that it would soak through the panties. Perhaps her mother had decided that soiling her pretty church dress with her sexual fluids would be in appropriate. She was damp enough to feel horny, but not enough to crave relief.

It was maddening anyway. She wanted to be done with church so she could return to her vigil for Melinda's return. So far, her precognitive powers had not altered the outcome; Melinda would be returned that day.

At the church, Heather climbed out of the car, her pussy and nipples tingling. As she came around the back of the car, she was unable to walk without swaying her hips or jiggling her boobs.

Penny's cell phone warbled.

"You forgot to turn it off again, dear," David said in a gentle but admonishing voice.

Penny pulled the phone from her pocket and stared at the caller ID. "David, why don't you head inside, I have to take this call."

"Oh, okay. Heather, come along, we'll--"

Penny answered the phone with a quick "just a moment" before interrupting David. "No, she'll go in with me. Please, just head inside."

David gave her a confused look, but slowly nodded and turned away.

"I really hate it when you do that to him, Mom," Heather muttered.

"Mind your tone with me," Penny said. "Stay here."

"Who is it?"

Penny stepped away. "None of your business."

"Is it about Melinda?" Heather called out. She started towards her mother. "I want to know when--"

Penny held up a hand in a stopping gesture. "Heather, I won't tell you again. Stay there and do not eavesdrop, or there may be worse things for you than what you're going through now."

Heather felt a chill at her mother's stark threat, delivered in an unwavering voice.

Heather wanted to maintain her anger as a distraction from her arousal, but it slipped from her grasp, and she longed to stroll along the street to feel her sexy underwear slide against her skin. Even the snow wafting down did nothing to cool the heat of her unrequited desire.

Unlike Heather, Richie was more reluctant to vacate the car when his mother pulled up before the church. He had yet to reach for the handle when Sandra climbed out and shut the door with a thunk and a rush of pressure against his eardrum.

This is so fucking lame, Richie thought as he finally dragged himself out of the car. He had never been very religious, and recent events made this weekly ritual an even worse farce than normal.

Richie thrust his hands into his pockets and tried not to watch his mother's ass tilt back and forth as she walked on her high heels. He trailed further behind as he looked around, and came to a complete stop when he saw something far more interesting than Sandra's rear.

"Shit, Heather, what the fuck's up with you?"

Heather spun around and stumbled. "Richie, I ... n-nothing. Just worried about Melinda."

One corner of his mouth rose. "Funny way of showing it, swingin' your ass and boobs around like that."

"Mom did this to me," Heather said in a weak voice. "She has me wearing this underwear that makes me feel so incredibly hot and sexy. I-I mean--"

"Yeah, it's cool, I get it," Richie said. "You're not the only one that--"

"Richie!" shouted Sandra from the steps of the church.

Richie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, what?!"

"Stop dawdling and get your butt over here."

"Look, we got a few minutes, okay? The rev can bore us to fucking death soon enough."

"Richie, you shouldn't mouth off like that in front of--"

"Shit, drop it already!" He paused. "Unless you want me to stop that other thing."

Sandra's eyes widened. "You shouldn't talk about--"

"I mean it! Leave me the fuck alone for a minute."

Sandra's lips tightened. She turned and stomped up the steps and into the church.

Heather gave Richie a puzzled look. "What the hell was that about?"

Richie glared at the spot that his mother had occupied just before she disappeared into the building. "Like I was trying to say, you're not the only one that got fucked up last night."

Heather let out a sigh. She took a step to the side and moaned as the tilt of her hips slid her panties across her folds. "I can't get this out of my head! God, this is getting me horny."

Richie tried very hard not to think about it, and he ignored the stirring in his crotch. He looked at Heather and wanted to see her stripped to her underwear and strutting around like a prostitute. Fat fucking chance that I'm gonna be the one to force her to do it, Richie thought.

Heather glanced towards her mother. "Richie, this is getting to be a nightmare," she said in an urgent if husky voice. "I think she really was trying to resist the Darkness at one point, but now I just don't know anymore."

Richie was about to say something when Penny closed her cell phone and strode back to her daughter. She cast a cool look at Richie, who just stared back, his eyes daring her to say a single disparaging word to him.

"Heather, let's get inside," Penny said and took her daughter's hand.

Heather snatched it away. "That was about Melinda, wasn't it?"

Penny's eyes shifted to Richie for a moment. Richie continued staring back, unmoved and unmoving. "Very well, yes, it was. She'll be released shortly after the service."

"Why not now? Why the secrecy? What are you afraid of?"

"Heather, stop. Not another word."

"Or what?!" Heather exploded, clenching her fists. "You let my sister get kidnapped. You practically sold me as a sex slave. You dress me up like a horny little teenage slut. How the fuck can you possibly punish me any worse than that?!"

Heather stormed into church. Several startled parishioners paused to stare first at her, then at her mother. And of the ones that appeared to take little interest in the tirade, Richie noticed, nearly all of them had Auras.

Penny's eyes darted about, then fell on Richie.

Richie smiled. "Good goin' Mrs. Sovert! You fucked up two daughters in only three days. Gotta be a record. Congrats!"

Penny appeared about to explode, then took a single, deep breath and turned away. Richie watched her stalk into church.

"Yeah, that was totally worth it," Richie said with a tiny smirk as he strolled up the church steps.

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