Once the meeting was over and Heather had exchanged a near tearful parting with Diane, she had hoped she could simply submit to the enslaving desires which threatened to absorb what little energy remained from her tryst with Richie. That all changed when Melinda mentioned Penny's interrogation concerning the pendant.

Heather had denied any knowledge of it, but she was not sure her little sister was convinced. Heather did not waste any further time or energy on it, as she needed what little remained fend off her mother's probing.

Heather had hoped it would come sooner rather than later. Instead, Penny left her to squirm in growing wet lust for half the trip until she longed for her Mistress' commands. Her Mistress' Dark power wove itself through her psyche, reverting her to the wet-pussy slave she always knew she should be.

Threading its way into the weave was guilt over having failed her Mistress' directive. Melinda should be in the back seat, moaning and whimpering as her special panties fucked her with every Haven High cock that ever passed her Mistress' folds.

"Heather, I need to ask you a question," Penny finally said.

Heather shivered and struggled to drag her mind into some semblance of rational thinking. She swallowed and let out a ragged sigh. "Y-yes, Mom?" she said in a breathy voice.

"I want an honest answer from you. Just like you would give your Mistress."

Heather nodded and spread her legs in a vain attempt to relieve the ache in her pussy. She longed to touch it, despite how much of a bad girl she would be for it. Mistress forbid her from touching herself, no matter how wet or wanting. A glimmer of thought fought against the tide of lust in a repeating mantra: My mother is not my Mistress ... My mother is not my Mistress ...

"My gold pendant is missing," said Penny. "Do you know anything about it?"

Heather moaned as her pussy suddenly began to throb in a weak but constant orgasm. She shivered and tried not to hate her mother for taking advantage of her weakened resistance. "N-no, I don't. I-I didn't even know it was missing."

She heard her mother's exasperated sigh. "You do know you would be a bad girl for lying to me. A very bad girl."

Heather bit her lip to suppress a whimper. Her orgasm faded, replaced with a soaring and straining pleasure.

"Your Mistress would punish you for that by not letting you cum."

Heather did not know if she had actually heard the shakiness in her mother's voice or only imagined it. She writhed and tugged at the waist of her jeans in the vain hope that pulling her panties into her slit would send her over. She gasped as the brief stroke of soaked cloth against slick folds spiked her pleasure but would not make her crest.

"Don't be a bad girl, Heather," Penny said, her voice tinged with desperation.

Heather was at the end of her endurance. She wanted to submit and let come what may. She had held off only because of Diane and Richie, and to give in now would be an insult to their efforts. "I don't know anything about it," Heather moaned. "Uhng ... p-please, I ..."

"You better not be lying to me. I could just as easily ask Laura to put the same question to you, and you would never lie to her."

"I w-would never lie to Mistress," Heather breathed before she could stop herself. She closed her eyes and whimpered as she eased back from the edge of orgasm, her pussy aching, her panties soaked through. She reached for her waist again but stopped when the car pulled up outside Laura Bendon's house.

Heather let out a breathy sigh. She lost what little will she had mustered and now longed for her Mistress' presence. Her clothing felt too confining and unsexy. She welcomed the sensuous touch of the maid outfit and the sexy elegance of her high-heels, as much as her pussy ached to be filled with Marcie's strap-on or her skilled tongue.

She let herself out of the car and had already started down the walk, her mother trotting along behind her. She rang the doorbell and waited, panting softy in anticipation. The door opened, and it was all Heather could do not to drop to her knees before her Mistress.

"You're late," Laura said.

"I'm sorry, Laura," said Penny in a contrite voice. "It won't happen again."

"Not a problem, really. I'll just take it out on Heather." She lay a hand against Heather's cheek and smiled. "And you'll love being punished, won't you, my pet?"

Heather shivered at her Mistress' touch, her pussy throbbing to the pulse of her racing heart. "Yes, Mistress," Heather moaned, her hips writhing as moisture trickled down the inside of her thighs. "Please do what you want with me."

"Laura," Heather heard her mother say in a trailing voice. She realized she should be concerned about this, but had trouble understanding why. She was too eager to hear what Mistress wanted of her, or what punishment she so rightly deserved would be imposed on her.

"Yes, what is it now?" her Mistress said in an annoyed voice.

A long pause. "Please give her time to study for her exams," her mother said. "I realize she's your slave, but I generally have my daughters--"

"You need not worry about that," Mistress said. "I am not about to have a slave of mine reflect badly on myself or the school." She chuckled. "I daresay she will get better grades this semester than ever before. Now, inside, slave."

"Yes, Mistress," Heather said in a soft, obedient voice as she stepped into the house and back into her role as a slave for another week. She felt a sense of relief, but it was not entirely centered around being her Mistress' good wet pussy slave. She hoped she would remember what that was all about.

Cassie did not feel very optimistic when her request was met with dead silence. At first she hoped the connection had simply dropped, but finally she heard a slow, disdainful sigh.

"Mother, this is not any different from me going to dinner with my friends or with Ned," Cassie said.

"On the contrary, Cassandra, there is a world of difference," said her mother in a crisp, haughty voice. "I allow you to go to only those restaurants with a solid reputation for serving excellent food. I have no idea what sort of tripe you might encounter otherwise."

"Mrs. Radson is an excellent cook," Cassie declared, though in fact she had no idea. "She has been cooking for her daughter and husband all these years. I sincerely doubt she would be doing that if her food had the tendency to make people sick."

Her mother sighed again, but a shorter one this time. Cassie hoped this was a breakthrough; such sighs usually preceded her mother acquiescing, albeit reluctantly. "You know I do not like changing plans at the last minute."

Cassie covered her eyes with her hand. "Please, mother, don't tell me you've scheduled another gala event tonight."

"No, I have not, but you know perfectly well your father invites his business partners for dinner on a regular basis. I prefer that the whole family put on a good face."

"Mother, I highly doubt father's business partners would base the outcome of their dealings on whether I am at the dinner table." And maybe for once I don't want my supposed poise and grace to be prostituted to sway any sort of deal, Cassie added in her head.

"Also understand I am concerned for your safety."

"What? My safety? How?"

"For the same reason Harry accompanies you, to prevent potential situations where those with criminal intent against the Kendall family and fortune would wish to take advantage of your vulnerability."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Mother, that's ... really, this is silly. You already let me go over to Mrs. Radson's house to meet with my friends--"

"Something which I believe I may need to reconsider."

Cassie's heart pounded, but she refused to give in despite the implied threat. "Furthermore, if someone truly wanted to ransom me, I doubt very much they would be deterred unless you insisted on sending armed guards with me everywhere I go. And, please, mother, do not tell me you suspect Mrs. Radson or her family of any criminal intent." She narrowed her eyes and her voice turned cool. "For I am sure you have already had background checks run on the entire Radson family."

"Only for your own good, Cassandra!" cried an exasperated Dorothy.

"And I'll tell you what that check found: nothing."

Dorothy sniffed. "Other than Mrs. Radson's questionable politics and the so-called 'religion' she espouses."

"Which, as far as I am aware, is not automatically indicative of a potential for criminal intent."

"Enough!" her mother snapped. A pause, and then another sigh. "Who is going to be at dinner?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Radson and their daughter Susan. No one else."

"Give the phone to Harry, I wish to speak with him for a moment."

Cassie thrust the phone over the back of the front seat. "Harry? My mother," she said in a curt voice.

Harry nodded and placed the phone to his ear. "Yes, Mrs. Kendall, what may I do for you?" He glanced towards the house. "Yes, I observed the others leaving ... No, Mrs. Kendall, I have not seen the Gardner hoodlum since your edict concerning him."

Cassie draped a hand over her eyes and shook her head.

"As far as I am aware, there is no one else in the house ... Very well." He handed the phone back.

"Are you satisfied, mother?" Cassie asked, trying not to sound short.

"Barely," said Dorothy. "I suppose it is too much to ask that you to return home to change into some more appropriate attire."

"I am attired just fine. I don't need to put on airs for them."

"As I have told you before, it is not about ..." Her mother trailed off. "Never mind, you will not listen to be anyway. Very well, you may stay for dinner."

Cassie uttered a gushing sigh of relief. "Thank you, mother."

"However, you will be back in this mansion not a minute later than nine o'clock. I will arrange for some food service for Harry so he may have dinner and remain with you."

Cassie was about to protest that she would be perfectly safe and could be left alone for the short time it would take Harry to get dinner, but she did not want to push her luck. "Yes, mother, nine o'clock."

Richie approached his home with all the caution of a soldier separated from his unit approaching an enemy outpost. His eyes darted towards the door as he walked his bike inside the garage, half-expecting his mother to come charging out, screaming and raising her fists. He waited for another moment, holding on to his bike in case he needed to make a quick getaway.

He finally walked around the back of the car and hit the button to close the garage. He waited until it was down and pressed his ear to the door into the house. He heard only the clink of utensils against pots and pans.

Richie opened the door and was assailed not by an angry mother but the wonderful aroma of frying hamburger and steaming sauerkraut. He shut the door and headed towards the kitchen, taking a cautious step inside.

On the stove, several thick burgers sizzled in a pan. Next to it, a crock of beans simmered. Behind them, hot dogs boiled in one pot, while sauerkraut steamed in another. Off to the side he heard the staccato sound of a knife against a cutting board. His mother bustled into view and tipped the board over the pan, dropping chopped onion into it.

"It will be another twenty minutes or so before dinner is ready," Sandra said in a harried voice as she crossed the room. "You've got enough time to see to Cathy before we eat." She reached the counter and paused. "If you would, please."

Richie stared at his mother. Her Aura was quiescent, no more than an inert cloak. He looked at the stove again. All his favorite foods were there, and his stomach rumbled in anticipation, though tempered with a bittersweet pang of memory.

The last time he had enjoyed such a repast was when he was twelve. Two months prior, all evidence pointed to him having stolen another kid's lunch box, resulting in being grounded at the height of the baseball season. When it was finally proven the lunch box had been planted on him by another student, his mother had done this for him that night.

When Richie had not moved for a minute, Sandra turned to him and sighed. "If you don't want to do anything with Cathy ... well, she's just going to be a mess during dinner, that's all I can really tell you. I gave her something that helped a little, but she has to have the real thing."

Richie saw the pleading look in his mother's eyes, but Jason's words sounded in his head. You did it for personal gratification. I did it for a greater good.

Richie frowned and realized what he hated most about what was happening to Jason. He had lost his moral compass. He had to make these decisions on his own and live with them.

"Yeah, fine, I'll take care of it," Richie said in a lackluster voice as he headed away.

No sooner had he stepped on the stairs when he heard moaning and panting from his room. He paused at the threshold as his eyes beheld a naked Cathy lying in his bed. Her legs were splayed wide, her hands gripping a large dildo which she thrust into herself with wild abandon, her hips rocking to the same irregular rhythm.

Cathy turned her head, her eyes shimmering with need. "Richie ... uhng ... p-please ... please fuck me ..."

Richie watched her Aura churn, and he sensed the Darkness' presence. It did nothing to dampen his lust, and by the time he had stripped off his clothes, his cock was hard and pulsing. She pulled out the dildo with a wet squelch as he climbed atop the foot of the bed. Panting, her thighs quivering, she spread her legs and let out a single, ragged sigh as he descended on her.

Richie plunged into her with little preamble, his cock sinking hard into her tight cunt. He jammed his body against hers, eliciting a squeal of delight as her fingers curled around his arms. At once he felt the icy press of the Darkness around his mind, tendrils of her Aura slithering against him and twining around where their bodies joined.

You must have had such a busy day today, Richie, the silky words of the Darkness formed in his head.

Richie clenched his teeth and moved his hips like a piston, slamming his cock into Cathy, the bedsprings creaking with each thrust. Cathy tilted her head back and moaned, her breath ragged. She grasped her bouncing breasts and squeezed her nipples at Richie's silent bid, her eyes closing as she gasped out her pleasure.

Bet you're looking forward to that nice dinner your mother is making for you.

Richie had no idea where it was going with that, and he tried not to speculate too hard. Nothing should matter but Cathy. She was a wet pussy that needed to be filled and nothing more. Satisfy her need and never mind about his own; his pleasure was just coming along for the ride.

"Oh Richie ..." Cathy moaned. "Oh yeah ... fuck me harder ... don't stop ..."

Richie panted as his pleasure crept upward, too slow to be of his own doing. He leaned forward and pounded into her until Cathy's breathing became a harsh, staccato pant, her fingernails biting into his skin. She twined her legs around him as if afraid he was going to withdraw. She writhed and tensed as if she were close despite Richie glacial rise.

No need to hurry, the Darkness purred. You've put this off for so long you may as well enjoy it.

Richie was tempted to break off right there, and Cathy's grip on him tightened as if she had somehow sensed his thoughts. Cathy suddenly gasped and uttered a shrill cry, and his thrusts slowed as her pussy clamped hard around his cock before throbbing against it.

"Ohhh! ... Uhnng ... oh God ... more ... keep fucking me ... I need it again ..." Cathy babbled.

I'm sure you deserve this after what you did today.

The meeting with the Harbingers sprang into his head, but he clamped down on it before he could recall the details. Only a blur of faces and disjointed words had flitted across his consciousness before he turned his mind away from it. He closed his eyes and willed his cock to rise faster.

Oh, yes, I'm sure you told your fellow Harbingers of your great exploits today. And I am sure you regaled them with how you escaped your mother's attempts to stop you.

Great exploits? Richie was genuinely confused. All he had done was follow Jason and help Heather with ...

He tried to quell that memory as well, but not before a clear image of the heart-shaped pendant had appeared in his head. So Heather had taken that little trinket after all, the Darkness said. My, you had a busy day! But that I am sure paled in comparison to your really huge accomplishment today.

"Oh Richie ..." Cathy gasped. "I'm going to cum again ... oh God ... ohhhhh! ..."

She let out another shrill cry, and Richie only now edged towards his own peak. He plateaued just before the point of no return, his balls aching and swollen, the muscles around his hips and thighs tiring. Cathy slid her trembling hands down his sides and around his hips, urging him onward as her second climax faded and her pussy remained slick and hot.

Richie had no idea what the hell the Darkness was talking about. Why did it think he had done something so great? Just because he had gone to extremes to get away from his mother? That had been only his own stupid, warped sense of priorities. He had been told that following Jason would do no good, yet his own stubborn nature made him want to do it all the more.

His thoughts dissolved as his cock strained, too late to fall back and too close to stop. He slowed his thrusts but plunged deeper. Her hips rocked in concert, rubbing her clit against his shaft. He clenched his teeth as tendrils of Dark power slid over the surface of his mind like snakes hunting for easy prey.

Now's your chance, Richie! Take Cathy as your complete slave. She'll always be happy and carefree. You'll never have to worry about her becoming traumatized ever again.

The sudden change of tack threw Richie for a loop, and his mind seized the opportunity, stretching his desires along their sexual link into her mind. His conversation with Jason suddenly reappeared, and he held on to a final moment of lucidity long enough to pull back from her mind before the two exploded into shared orgasm.

He trembled as his cock throbbed for what seemed an eternity before it finally faded. He collapsed against Cathy, and she clung to him, panting in his ear and grinding her hips against him as if savoring every last moment of contact with his flagging cock.

Richie extricated himself, the press of the Darkness lifting. Cathy's Aura settled to a more sedate swirl. He thought he understood what had almost happened. If he had enslaved Cathy, the Darkness would have taken him, and then it would know everything Richie did. It would know exactly what had happened at the meeting.

Yet it didn't care about the meeting. It still thought he had done something spectacular. His lips curled into a sly smile.

"Mmm, Richie, that was nice," Cathy moaned, still squirming, her pussy glistening with her own moisture as well as his seed.

"Yeah, it was great for me, too. Guess I kinda got a reward after all for everything I did today."

Richie smirked as Cathy's Aura suddenly churned as if agitated, even as Cathy smiled.

Some of Cassie's enthusiasm waned after Bill and Susan returned home. She felt an almost palpable tension. Whatever gratitude Susan may have once had towards the Harbingers for rescuing her from Melissa had long since been replaced with wary suspicion. Bill's feelings leaned more towards simple anxiety, as if he believed he was about to be judged by the Kendall family.

Cassie was careful to avoid saying anything about her family's wealth or prestige even in passing. She broke the ice with Bill by showing a genuine interest in his construction job. Cassie sensed shock at first, yet by the end of dinner he had become far more gregarious, regaling her with details of some of the favorite jobs he had done.

"A lot of people assume I stay in construction because it's a steady paycheck," Bill said. "I stay in it because I enjoy it. I feel you have to do something you enjoy or life just isn't worth it."

Cassie could not have agreed more, but she kept to herself the lament that she hoped she would be allowed to do the same one day.

Susan said very little the whole meal, though she slowly became more comfortable with Cassie's presence. Cassie wished she could ask Susan how she was doing, but Debby had advised her before dinner to avoid the subject of Melissa. "I fear she's starting to suppress what actually happened," Debby had said. "But the dinner table is likely not the place to force her to face the past."

As for the meal itself, Cassie could not have asked for anything better. Debby had made a casserole of noodles, ground beef, and vegetables in a thick sauce served over biscuits. "A pot luck" dinner was what Bill had called in an almost embarrassed voice. It was different from anything Cassie had ever had, and she amazed Bill by asking for seconds, and then thirds.

"My God, don't they feed you over there?" Bill had blurted out, and would likely have apologized if Cassie had not giggled. Even Susan cracked a tiny smile.

Nevertheless, Susan was the first to flee when dinner was over. "Cassie, it was very nice meeting you," Bill said with a genuine smile. "I admit, you weren't what I expected."

"She's just a normal teenage girl who happens to have a rich family, Bill, just as I told you," said Debby in an admonishing but affectionate voice.

Bill smirked. "Yeah, you'd think I'd start listening to you more often," he said as he started to collect the dishes.

"Do you want a hand with that, Mr. Radson?" Cassie asked, picking up her own plate.

Debby smiled and took Cassie's plate, handing it to Bill. "Actually, I wanted to use this time for us to talk."

"What's this?" Bill asked, and Cassie immediately sensed wariness.

"She has some dreams she wished me to assist in interpreting," Debby said. "Just put the dishes in the kitchen and I'll help you with them when I'm done with Cassie."

"Just be careful, Debby," Bill said as he carried the armload of dishes into the kitchen.

"Are you sure it's okay we do this?" Cassie asked as Debby shepherded her towards the pantry.

"Bill is afraid I will start dispatching psychiatric advice. Where I have no intention of doing so, there's no problem."

"As long as he sees it that way."

Debby smiled. "Let me take care of that. Now, please, sit down while I do a bit of preparation."

Cassie sat where she had when Debby used to read her psychic aura, yet this time the candle in the center of the table was cold and dark. She watched with some alarm as Debby stripped herself naked. Cassie glanced at the door, at which point Debby smiled and said, "Not to worry. He never comes in here when he knows I may be practicing magic. He'll call me through the door if he needs me. I need full energy flow if I am to cast a strong circle about us."

Cassie nodded, but was relieved just the same when Debby finished and slipped into a robe. "Now, Cassie, tell me everything," she said as she sat down. "I've likely fallen behind in what's been happening with you."

Cassie started with the nightmare she witnessed in her mother's dreams, and ended with the revelation about the depth of her parents' knowledge of the events in Haven. Cassie tried not to be distracted by the roller-coaster of emotions which flooded from the otherwise quiet Debby.

"I don't know where to begin piecing it all together, Mrs. Radson," Cassie said. "I'm not even sure how much of what I've seen is accurate."

Debby folded her hands under her chin and closed her eyes. "I need a few moments to think," she said in a soft voice. "To get it straight in my own mind."

"I'm sorry to give you all this at once. I had meant to keep you more informed but--"

Debby opened her eyes and took Cassie's hand. "It's all right, dear, I understand. You've had an enormous responsibility thrust upon you that you likely never wanted."

"Mrs. Radson, what's the chance that this is just my imagination, that I'm just stressed out?"

Debby gave her a gentle smile and squeezed her hand. "You don't believe that, do you?"

Cassie sighed and hung her head. "No," she said in a small voice.

"I'm going to tell you something you likely already know, but perhaps hearing it from me will calm you somewhat," said Debby. "You must take the nightmare you witnessed with a grain of salt. If you did at some point acquire the ability to influence others -- and I am not saying you did -- and if your mother was terrified at this prospect, she would tend to magnify it to grotesque proportions in her mind."

Cassie nodded in the middle of Debby's last statement. "Yes, I understand that."

"And it seems your next vision suggested that if you really did have this sort of power, you harmed no one."

"But how could that have been my own memory? I can't freely roam in a memory. It's limited to whatever the memory contains. Details beyond that should be fuzzy."

Debby paused. "Did you consider that you yourself were having a dream?"

Cassie's eyes widened. "But I don't dream."

"Everybody dreams, Cassie."

"But not in the traditional way. Ever since I got this gift, I dream for others. I see their memories or whatever they're currently dreaming. If that was a memory, it ..." Cassie shuddered as a sudden chill enveloped her. She glanced around the room, eyes shimmering.

Debby looked as well. "What is it, Cassie?"

"That presence ... the one I felt when I fell back to sleep ... the one I felt when I Projected myself ..."

"There should be nothing here," Debby said, though the conviction in her voice did not match her true feelings. "The circle I cast should protect us."

"No, no, I don't feel it here ... Goodness, not this again."

"What is it?"

Cassie sighed and wiped a tear from her eye. "This is the same thing I feared when Stephanie was trying to contact me. I-I don't want to communicate with the dead."

Debby leaned back. "Cassie, who said you could? That is a very specific skill that not many Witches have, let alone--"

"What I sensed had to come from somebody. What if it was a memory of whatever presence I felt? What if it's the same so-called 'imaginary friend' in my mother's memories?"

Cassie was not sure what she wanted. Neither confirmation nor denial of her fear seemed more palatable than the other. One suggested necromancy, the other insanity.

"First of all, I think you are jumping to conclusions without enough facts," said Debby in a cautious voice. "It is clear by now that some sort of force is at work here. I don't know the nature of it yet. It could be someone very real and very living doing some form of Projection. But it could also be a true Presence, the lingering energy of a once flesh-and-blood being, and that is not the same as 'communicating with the dead.'"

Cassie heaved a sigh and struggled to regain a sense of calm. "I-I don't know why that concept scares me so badly."

"To be very honest with you, it really shouldn't," Debby said. "Because the term itself is a misnomer. You cannot communicate with anything which is not alive. If you do indeed have some sort of a channel to a quote-unquote dead person, you are speaking with its very much living spirit."

Logically, everything Debby said made sense to Cassie, yet her heart would not stop racing, nor would her body stop tensing as if it expected the need to bolt to save her life. "It's so frustrating that I can't explain my fear. It's not like I get horrible visions of decayed corpses when I think about the idea."

Debby looked pensive for a moment. "Cassie, you may have just pinpointed exactly what it was you encountered as a child. I'm inclined to believe now that this is a very powerful Presence of a departed spirit, and your association with it traumatized you enough that you gained an aversion to the very concept." Debby sighed and added in a lower voice, "And I promised Bill I would not play the part of a psychiatrist."

Cassie was desperate to grasp any sort of explanation which would silence some of the more horrible theories she had envisioned, yet to latch onto this one was to accept that she had gained the ability to control minds when she was a child. She could not help but imagine how much of a monster her mother feared Cassie would become.

Cassie wished Ned had never told her about the Twilight Zone episode "It's A Good Life." All she could see was herself as the episode's antagonist wishing people into the cornfield. "I guess I should be glad my mother made me tell him to go away," Cassie said in a quavering voice.

"Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing what its intentions were or what the extent of your psychic abilities were."

"Mrs. Radson, with all due respect, let's stop dancing around it. Whatever he was -- and I can't get the idea out of my head that it was male -- he let me control people's minds."

Debby grasped both of Cassie's hands. "Cassie, stop it," Debby said in a firm voice. "You were only a child, and from what you've already told me, you were wary yourself every step of the way."

"What I really don't like is that it also implies he gave me my Dream Gift, and that he gave Stephanie her ability to Project. When you combine that with my father knowing more about Haven than he lets on, I feel like all this was planned somehow."

"Or it would dovetail into Jason's theory about us being somehow drawn to this place to combat the Darkness."

Cassie averted her eyes for a moment and shook her head. "I hate being in the dark. I thought I knew my own head, but I really don't know a thing." She looked at Debby. "And what about the doll house? What does it have to do with anything? Why do I feel compelled to see it again? Should I?"

Debby gave her a sad look. "Oh, Cassie, that last question, I don't know what to tell you."

For a moment, Cassie felt the same frustration towards this woman that Ned did. It was short-lived, and despite it having never left her head, she felt the need to apologize.

"All I can tell you is that there are stories of spirits tied to physical objects in some way," said Debby. "It is possible that the doll house is some sort of focus for this Presence, much the way the House at the end of the street was a focus for Mara."

"And my parents can't get rid of it for some reason," Cassie said in a toneless voice. "Or won't. I don't want to think of the implications of that."

"It is very important not to jump to conclusions. I know you probably don't want to hear this, but we may have to simply wait and see what happens. More may be revealed in time."

"I'm not going to look at that doll house again," Cassie said. "Not until I'm sure that I really want to and it's not some outside influence. I thought I would prefer the idea that this thing had somehow influenced me into controlling people, but not if it means it could do it again."

Debby gave her a forlorn look. "Cassie, you're being far too hard on yourself."

Cassie looked at Debby in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm not sure how to put this. I think you have a problem with power."

"Well, of course I do! I don't want it!"

"Yes. That's the problem."

Cassie stared.

"I don't mean mind control power," said Debby. "I mean power in any capacity. You have a huge aversion to it."

Cassie started to shake her head but stopped herself.

"Your mother might have something to do with it," Debby said in a cautious voice. "You've said in so many words that you don't want to become like her."

"Yes, I know but ..." Cassie trailed off. She suddenly thought of the time she had threatened Harry with dismissal for refusing to obey a directive from her, and how she felt like bursting into tears right after. It had mattered not that it had been born out of necessity to serve the greater good of the Harbingers.

"I don't like pointing this out, Cassie, but--"

"Mrs. Radson, isn't it healthy for me to want to avoid any sort of power?" Cassie asked in a pleading voice. "That way I don't abuse what powers I do have. I use them only as needed."

"Avoiding power is not the same thing as judicious use of power."

"I don't understand, just like I don't know why you're bringing this up," Cassie said, her voice becoming more cross with each word. "Are you trying to tell me I'm a poor leader? Is that really why you said you would decide about the potion?"

Debby gave her a pained look. "I did it for the reasons I stated and nothing more."

Cassie nodded. "Yes, I know, I'm sorry, I'm just really upset right now and not sure why."

"Because I think I may have touched on your greatest flaw."

"My ... what?"

Debby gave her an anxious look, and Cassie's eyes widened from the sudden, sharp spike of worry rising from the maelstrom of Debby's conflicted emotions. "Taking the potion so you can rescue Jason is only a small part of your task, Cassie," Debby said in a solemn voice. "If you want to free Jason, you will have to confront your greatest fear or your greatest flaw. That I remember most clearly from when I had read the journal years ago."

Cassie gave Debby a nonplussed look. "And that's mine? That I don't want power?"

"It's not quite as simple as that. It's not so much wanting power as accepting it."

Cassie nodded slowly, though she still did not completely understand. She knew there had to be a difference between the two concepts, but she could not see it. "Maybe I'm not the one to do this after all," she said in a small voice.

"I'm sorry to put this burden on you," Debby said. "But I feel the sooner you can see it, the sooner you can come to terms with it. Out of everyone in the Harbingers, Cassie, I feel you are the most mature and thus most capable of overcoming your limitations."

Cassie was not so sure, but she could not imagine burdening another with this enormous responsibility. "So does that mean you won't be giving the potion to anyone else even if there is enough?"

Debby gave her another pained look. "Let's not decide that now. If it does come to that, I still stand by what I said, that I want the final decision, but I will seek your input."

Cassie nodded, but her insides knotted at the idea of making such a decision. Or was that just her aversion to power talking again? Was she going to start examining every action with even greater scrutiny than before?

Debby stood. "We better see you off so you can get back home in time. I'd rather you arrive home a little ahead of your curfew so your mother does not think any less of me." She smiled. "Or perhaps it's more accurate to say any less than she thinks of me now."

Cassie sighed as she rose. "Mrs. Radson, I have to tell you this, as I think it's only fair. My mother had a background check done on your whole family."

Debby nodded. "I'm not surprised, and I'm not really upset over it. Fortunately there's not much for her to find."

"You're being very gracious. Thank you for talking to me, even if you told me a few things that maybe I didn't want to hear. I just don't know how I'm going to deal with it."

Cassie stepped around the table. As she came alongside Debby, she paused, looking up with glistening eyes. She suddenly wrapped her arms around Debby and hugged her tight. Debby returned the embrace without hesitation.

Sometimes Cassie wished she had not discovered her empathic powers. She wished she could take complete solace in Debby's strength and fortitude as both an adult and a mother. Instead, she could sense every doubt and every worry, and knew Debby was clinging to her as much as she was to Debby.

Heather stood naked before her Mistress as she had since the end of dinner. She had not been allowed to move, standing with her feet spread apart just enough to allow the moisture from her unsatisfied lust trickle down her thighs. Her breath became a desperate pant as she watched her Mistress take another sip of wine as Marcie knelt between her Mistress' legs, eagerly lapping at her owner's pussy.

Heather whimpered as Marcie shuddered in yet another orgasm, delivered via a buzzing vibrator buried in her cunt and manipulated by her Mistress's feet. She licked her lips, longing to be in Marcie's position, tasting her Mistress' delicious pussy and happily cumming in submissive delight.

Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, forbidden from touching herself lest her punishment become worse than it would already be. Her Mistress had left her of her own free will in this regard, thus it took sheer determination not to succumb to the urge.

Laura set down her glass and tilted her head back, uttering a soft sigh of pleasure, the only sign she gave that she was near orgasm. She placed her hand behind Marcie's head and shoved her pet's face into her mound. Marcie gurgled, bobbing her head as she rubbed her face against her owner's sex.

Laura moaned and shuddered, her breath becoming a staccato pant as rapid as the throbbing of an orgasm. Laura curled her fingers into Marcie's hair and tugged, uttering one last ragged sigh. She smiled at her pet and twiddled her toes against the base of the dildo. Marcie sighed in ecstasy as her hips jerked to yet another climax.

"Good girl," Laura said in a still breathless voice. She gestured for Marcie to lift her hips enough for Mistress to remove the dildo. Marcie leaned forward and took the dildo into her mouth, humming her delight as she licked it clean of her own moisture. "Yes, very good girl. Now go clean yourself up and retire for the evening."

Marcie smiled and left to do her owner's bidding.

Laura turned her attention to her slave. Heather swallowed and held her tongue, despite the urge to beg Mistress for mercy she was sure would never be granted. Laura set down the dildo and picked up the special panties Heather had been given.

Laura took her glass of wine in her other hand and stepped up to Heather, dangling the panties on the tip of her finger. "Do you see this, slave? Do you know what this is?"

"Y-yes, Mistress," Heather said, her thighs quaking from the intense ache in her pussy. "The panties you gave me to put on Melinda."

Laura shook her head. "No, that is not what this is. This is your failure. Your failure to be my good, obedient girl." She dropped the panties at her slave's feet and took a sip of wine. "Did you think my directive to you optional? Did you think I intended for you to resist it?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress," Heather said in a low voice.

"And you also somehow resisted my influence as well. You even used energy for yourself. You've been a bad girl, haven't you?"

Heather shuddered and averted her eyes. Shame weighed on her like lead plates.

"Never mind how you managed to keep energy for yourself," Laura muttered as she turned away. "We will visit that another day. Put the panties on."

Heather gave her Mistress a stricken look, but rid herself of it quickly as she stepped into them. Her heart pounding, she slid them up her legs and shimmied her hips as she pulled them into place.

Heather let out a soft, ragged sigh as the dildo pressed against her labia and slipped inside her with a wet pop. Seconds later, she leaned forward and thrust out her ass as the dildo lengthened into the cock of some boy whose name she forgot, someone she dated only once back in freshman year. It had ended early when she had realized all he had wanted was to get into her panties. Her eyes slid closed as her hips rocked to the thrusts of her invisible lover.

"Your little sister should be the one standing here," Laura said as she strolled around her slave. "It should be her helpless body swaying before me. Instead, you chose to defy me."

Heather could not get the proper words of apology to form in her head. Some of it was the sheer distraction of her rising pleasure, some of it was a lingering desire to protect her little sister at all costs.

"I can still feel your resistance," Laura said with disdain. "And I grow tired of trying to eliminate it. Therefore, I'll resort to more brute force methods: punishment. So now you will wear the panties yourself for the next three days."

"Uhng ..." Heather moaned, her trembling legs bending at the knees as her pussy strained. The thrusts eased, and her pussy backed away from the edge of climax.

"You will not be allowed to cum," Laura said. "You'll be given respite only long enough to use the bathroom, sleep, or to study."

Heather squirmed as her pussy ached in helpless need. She felt the dildo sitting inside her, but it remained inert and useless, other than to put just enough pressure on her clit to tease her into near madness.

Laura sat down. As she took a slow sip of her wine, Heather gasped when the dildo came alive. Her hips soon rocked to the thrusts of a cock belonging to one of Brad's jock friends who made a play for her almost the very day after she had dumped Brad. She panted as the unrelenting stimulation forced her pleasure back to a tortuous plateau.

"And I was indeed serious about ensuring you study for your exams," Laura said. "If I am to allow you to keep your mind intact, you're not going to waste it."

Heather closed her eyes and whimpered as her pussy once more strained at the edge of a climax she silently begged would be hers. Her hips swayed with her quickening breath, and in her mind's eye she was really riding this boy's thick cock with every ounce of her endurance.

Laura put down her wine and folded her hands in her lap. "So, slave, are you enjoying the panties?"

"Uhnngg!" Heather cried as her pussy gave a single abortive throb before the thrusts stopped. Her legs gave out, depositing her to her knees. She panted hard as the cock again became just a stubby dildo. She writhed and gyrated her hips to no avail, the stimulation falling back slowly from her near peak.

Laura smirked. "I'll take that as a 'yes.' You'll stay that way for another two hours or so before I send you to bed. Now, what do you say?"

"Th-thank you, Mistress," Heather breathed.

Laura stretched her legs and crossed her ankles. Heather gasped as another cock penetrated her, this one belonging to a boy she only vaguely remembered meeting once. She had never had sex with him, yet she simply knew this is what his cock would have felt like. It was so nice and long, filling her tunnel with each massive thrust. She tried to still her hips, but they moved as if compelled to follow the unreal rhythm.

"Meanwhile, I'll enjoy the show," Laura said. "Oh, and I should make something very clear to you, slave."

Heather's remaining resistance crumbled. She fell forward on all fours, her hips bobbing as if humping her unseen lover. Her breasts swayed under her, and she envisioned her partner grasping them and pinching the nipples. She moaned and shuddered as her pleasure rose to new maddening heights.

"Next time, you will not fail. I will be very direct so there is no ambiguity. I want Melinda. She will be my sex slave right alongside you."

Heather shook her head once, but in her mind she saw Melinda dressed in a harem costume similar to the one Laura had made Heather wear for Halloween. Melinda flitted and twirled about in a graceful and sensuous dance, growing ever more wet and lustful with each passing moment. She ended her dance in a submissive stance upon her knees, her body shuddering in the orgasm the real Heather was denied.

Heather moaned and fell to her side, panting hard as her pleasure eased, the dildo once more inert.

"You will do it for two simple reasons," said Laura. "First, you cannot protect your sister. She will be a slave, it is only a question of who will hold her leash. Second, you will come to learn that I would be a far better Mistress to her than anyone your mother would ever allow."

Heather shuddered and drew her knees towards her chest. Whatever resistance she could have mustered before was exhausted. Her Mistress' words settled into her subconscious as truth. Mistress was right. Heather alone could choose Melinda's destiny, and it really boiled down to who would be the kinder Mistress.

Dimly, she finally remembered what her mother had been upset about earlier. Taking the pendant seemed like it had happened a million years ago. What good could come of that? What could she possibly learn about her mother that would allow her to decide against taking Melinda for her Mistress?

She closed her eyes and let out a ragged sigh. She could no longer think of such things. She could only endure her punishment and hope to be her Mistress' good little girl again.

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