Melinda was quite chipper the next morning, barely saying a word of contention to Heather. In fact, her only reaction to her older sister's usual jibes and teases was an increasingly smug smile.

After Melinda had dressed and was heading out the door, Heather came up from behind her and laid her hand on the edge of the door, pushing it back closed.

"What?" Melinda demanded, looking up at her older sister impatiently.

"What are you up to?" Heather said, narrowing her eyes.

Melinda smiled sweetly. "Me? Up to something? Whatever do you mean?"

Heather opened her mouth, pausing a moment and glancing up when she heard their mother walk past the room. As the footsteps faded down the stairs, Heather spoke again, but in a softer and more urgent voice. "You better not have any ideas in your silly little head to tell Mom about ..."

"I have no intention of telling her anything," Melinda said indignantly. "I said I wouldn't and I meant it."

"Because I'll tell her what you've been doing, too."

Melinda just gave her another maddening smile. "I know."

"Then why are you acting so weird? Weirder than usual, anyway."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, right."

Melinda grinned. "Maybe I just like freaking you out like this."

"I'm not 'freaking out'."

"Now who's lying? By the way, did you enjoy boinking Brad?"

"Shhh!" Heather hissed. "You little turd."

Melinda just stuck her tongue out at her big sister and yanked the door hard, forcing Heather to release it. She turned and rushed out before Heather could think otherwise.

Heather took a half-step over the threshold and watched her sister bound energetically down the stairs. There was a muffled conversation between Melinda and their mother, another pause, and then the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Heather frowned and rushed over to the bay window. She bent back a few of the slats of the blinds with her fingers and peered down to the street below. She watched Melinda emerge from the house and turn with definite purpose towards the right and continue on to the intersection.

The slats snapped loudly back into place as she drew back from the window. Her little sister was up to something, she was sure of it. She just could not figure out what.

Melinda waited on the corner with a mixture of excited anticipation and trepidation. She so wanted to get her hands on those pictures and have a weapon to wield against Heather.

As time crept by, her trepidation turned to annoyance. Jason was late.

The initial relief she felt at seeing Jason approaching her was fleeting, as Richie was with him. The stray dog was with them as well, making mad dashes in circles around them, broken by occasional leaps into the air and punctuated by sharp, attention-seeking yips.

Jason gave Melinda a forlorn look as they neared, his hands thrust into his pockets. Richie was talking in a rush, words tumbling out of his mouth so fast he seemed to stop one sentence before finishing it in order to start the next thought. Richie had corned Jason the moment he had stepped out of his house, and began to regale him with a play-by-play of what to Richie was the most exciting baseball game of his life.

Melinda folded her arms in frustration as they came within earshot.

" ... and then he had me down two strikes, two balls, we had a guy on base. The pitcher kept tryin' to pick 'im off, over and over, until finally I start yelling at him 'hey, fuckhead! To scared to pitch to me, huh?' Shit, dude, you shoulda seen the look on his face! Man, he threw that ball and a just nailed it! Then ..."

Melinda sighed and rolled her eyes, giving Jason a sharp look. Jason just shrugged.

Melinda did not care much for Richie. He was too brash, too full of himself, and way too much into sports for her liking. She had no idea why Jason was even friends with him.

Jason finally came to a stop a few feet before Melinda. Richie just stopped with him and did not seem to notice. "So it goes way, way, way out there!" he said excitedly, pointing into the air over Melinda's head without looking. "You see the guy go back, back ..."

He turned around and began stepping backwards, looking up, holding his hands up like an outfielder preparing to catch a fly ball.

"And the ball hits his glove ... he drops it!" He pantomimed a ball hitting the imaginary glove and fall to the ground and started to laugh. "Oh man, you shoulda seen this dweeb try to pick up the ball, it was like it ... Oh, uh, hi, Melinda."

Melinda shot Richie an angry glare.

"When did you show up?" Richie asked innocently.

Melinda shook her head. "Boys," she muttered.

Jason cracked a small smile.

"Anyway, where was I?" Richie said, proceeding as if Melinda was not even there. "Oh yeah. He dropped the ball. So then ..."

He fell silent again when there came a low, menacing growl from behind them.

They all turned and looked at the dog, who was facing the street to the cul-de-sac. He was low to the ground, ears back, tail down. The growl turned to a series of loud, explosive barks, teeth fully bared.

"What the fuck?" Richie cried. "What's with Tramp?"

"Buster," Melinda corrected.

"No, he's Tramp."

"Tramp's a dumb name."

"Yeah? And what would you know about it?"

Before Melinda could retort, Tramp (or Buster) whined pitifully, swinging his head away from the street. He tried to stand his ground one more time, giving a single half-hearted bark, but the next moment he let out a yelp and bolted. He dashed back the way Jason and Richie had come.

Melinda's mouth fell open, and she looked up at Jason. Jason just looked back, wide-eyed, and said not a word.

"Shit, if that dog was any stupider, he'd be elected," Richie quipped, repeating an oft-heard comment from his mother about the stray. He looked back towards Jason, intending to just pick up his story again, but when he looked at his friend, he made a face. "What's with you?"

"Huh?" Jason said absently.

"You look weird. Like you just saw a ghost or something."

"Uh ... I just ... I just kinda had something to do today. I mean, not that I didn't like hearing about your game, just ..."

Richie glanced from Jason to Melinda and back again and grinned, nodding once. "Oh, yeah, I get it. I know what's up."

Jason exchanged a nervous glance with Melinda. "Uh, you do?"

Richie gave the two of them a smarmy smile and threw an arm around Jason's shoulders, steering him off to the side. He glanced over his shoulder to Melinda. "Just a sec, Melinda, I need to talk to your boyfriend here ..."

"He's not my ...!" Melinda began.

"But she's not my ..." Jason started at the same time.

"Just stay there and don't listen in. Strictly guy stuff, you know?"

Melinda sighed and put her hands on her hips. "Oh, honestly!"

Richie drew Jason a short way down the sidewalk. "Well, dude, I hafta admit," he began. "In my opinion, you coulda done a little better than that."

Jason gave Richie a perplexed look.

"I mean, yeah, I guess she's cute, in a kind of, uh, freakish way, but she's no Heather."

"Richie, what the hell are you talking about?" Jason demanded.

"Does she even have any boobs under that shirt?"

Jason's mouth dropped open and his cheeks colored, too shocked to reply.

"I guess if the pussy works, that doesn't matter all that much, huh? She's probably desperate enough anyway, so that should make it real easy to ..."

Jason abruptly pulled away from Richie, shooting him an angry and embarrassed look. "Stop it! I'm not ... I'm not interested in that with her."

This was spoken loud enough that Melinda caught "not interested in that with her" faintly. She raised an eyebrow and furrowed her brow.

"Oh, I see now," Richie said, grinning. "Using her to get to Heather?"

"What? No! Look, I ... " He paused, glancing past Richie, seeing Melinda looking curiously in their direction, turning her head to one side as if trying to listen. He lowered his voice. "I-I'm just friends with Melinda, that's all. Where'd you get the idea about the ... the other stuff? I just ..."

Jason trailed off when Richie began laughing.

"Oh man, you shoulda seen the look on your face!" Richie cried. "Oh, that was great!"

Jason gave Richie a furious look. "That was all a joke?"

Richie nodded, laughing hysterically.

"I didn't think it was so funny," Jason said flatly.

"No, it was fuckin' hilarious!"

"Yeah? Well, fuck you."

Jason started past Richie. Richie reached out and grabbed his arm and stopped him. Jason spun around angrily.

"Hey, man, lighten up," Richie said. "Jesus H. Christ. Don't be such a tight-ass all the time. You looked like you were going to a funeral or something and I just wanted to have a little fun with you, that's all."

Jason sighed, some of his anger abating, though not by very much. He still did not see the humor in it at all. Richie knew that Jason felt uncomfortable with sexual humor. It was bad enough when he did it about Heather, but this seemed like taking it too far.

Richie shook his head. "Okay, never mind," he said in disgust. "Listen, I'll see you later. I should probably track down Tramp before he runs under a truck or something." He gave a perfunctory wave of his hand and headed back up the street.

Jason bit his lip and watched Richie go before turning around and trotting back over to Melinda. "Um, sorry about that," he said sheepishly.

"Is he gone, then?" Melinda asked impatiently.

"Yeah."

"Good riddance."

"He's not that bad," Jason said, though his voice was flat with little conviction in it.

"What did you two talk about?"

"Nothing. I mean, nothing you'd be interested in."

"Try me."

Jason looked flustered. He hated being put on the spot like this. "Oh, he was just joking around," he said vaguely.

"About what?"

"About ... us. What we were doing together."

Melinda gave Jason a confused look, then saw his cheeks flare again in embarrassment, her eyes widening. "Oh," she said in a small voice.

"Like I said, he just does that."

"He thought it was funny?"

"Yeah."

Melinda looked at Jason, feeling a small shudder pass through her body. She managed a weak laugh. "Yeah, I guess that is kind of funny."

Jason similarly curled his lips into a polite smile and gave a single, lackluster "hah".

"Uh, we better, uh, head up to the house."

Jason just nodded, not trusting his voice at that point.

Both of them turned, walking next to each other but not quite together, neither risking a look at the other.

Neither of them felt the chill come over them again, though of the two of them, only Melinda had braced herself against it. Yet both felt a wariness when they stepped in front of the house and saw that its front door was already ajar. To Melinda, it was not open so much as an invitation as a dare. The air grew still and quiet around them, not so much as a single breath of wind to stir the warm and desert-dry atmosphere.

Jason felt it to a much lesser degree, and his thoughts quickly drifted away from his fears and towards his experience the day before. He knew on a very instinctual level that something was unnatural about it. His emotions and his baser desires and needs, however, having already had a small taste of what there was to offer, wanted more.

He glanced at Melinda, and had to fight the urge to tell her to go home, that this was his and his alone. This passed when Melinda turned her eyes to him and he beheld the fear in them.

"I-I'm not so sure of this anymore, Jason," Melinda said uneasily.

Jason hesitated, as if on the verge of agreeing with her, but then chuckled softly. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know, I just ..."

"You said you wanted those pictures."

"Why don't you just go in and get it and I'll wait out here?"

Jason almost took her up on this, to the point of taking a step towards the gate. When he looked at the house however, he felt a tingling come over him, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.

Bring Melinda with you, Jason.

Jason's eyes widened and he swallowed.

"What is it?" Melinda asked in an anxious voice.

"N-nothing. Um ... come on, Melinda, go in with me. It's ... it's a really nice house. You'll like it."

"But ..."

She's scared. What a scaredy-cat.

"Scaredy-cat," Jason repeated.

Melinda blinked in surprise. "What did you just call me?"

Jason looked at her and smiled very slightly. "Scaredy-cat," he said more confidently.

Melinda shot him an angry look. "I am not!"

Prove it.

"Prove it," Jason declared. "Come inside with me."

"All right, I will! Come on!"

Melinda practically raced Jason to the door, her indignation momentarily overriding her fear, though her heart pounded just the same. She entered the house ahead of Jason, and looked almost disappointed when her eyes roved quickly around the room and saw nothing at all the least frightening or horrific greet her.

Jason stepped in behind her, brushing her arm, making her jump.

"Sorry," Jason said softly.

"So is this it?" Melinda said, trying to sound casual.

"Is what it?"

"This. The house. Doesn't seem so scary to me."

"Who said it was scary in the first place?"

Melinda glared at him briefly. "And there's no one home?"

Jason paused. Yes, there was someone here. He simply could not see her. He shook his head.

"Well ... what are we waiting for? Where are the pictures?"

Jason gestured silently for Melinda to follow him. He moved slowly, unsure of himself, doubt creeping into his mind. He was feeling guilty, as if he were somehow making Melinda do something that would get her into trouble. With a sort of wry amusement he imagined what Richie might have thought had he known where he and Melinda were. He might start thinking they were doing something for real. That was silly, of course.

At the same time, the idea sent a shudder through him as well, and not an unpleasant one.

When he reached the top of the stairs and saw the door ahead of him, already open a crack as it had been the day before, he hesitated. He felt a little embarrassed at showing her what his room looked like, even if she did not know it was his. Would she laugh at it? Would she really think he was as much a dork as her sister thought?

Melinda gave Jason a quizzical glance but he started moving again before she could say anything. "Uh, it's in here," Jason said tentatively as they came to the door.

When Jason appeared to do nothing for another moment, Melinda impatiently pushed the door open and stepped inside. She had barely taken a full step across the threshold when her mouth dropped open in astonishment.

"What the ...? This ... how ..." Melinda sputtered.

Jason stepped in from behind her and balked. "Wait, this ... this is not ..."

Melinda was not listening to him. She slowly approached the bed -- her bed -- and lightly placed a hand on the blanket. She looked past it, and saw the bay window, just as she expected she would. This version, however, had a pair of beautiful, lacy curtains before it. The blinds were raised fully behind it, suffusing the room with gorgeous, soft brilliance. It was how she had always wanted to adorn the windows, but because Heather despised curtains, Melinda could not have them, either.

Yet this was not their room. It was her room. Where Heather's bed normally would appear there instead stood a wide bookcase, containing all the fantasy novels that Melinda so loved to read. In reality, she had to keep stuffed under her bed because there was no room for them otherwise, and Heather thought they were "dumb" and "childish" anyway. Festooning much of the other furniture in the room were all the stuffed animals she had to get rid of over the years because, again, Heather complained about them, convincing their mother that Melinda was too old for them.

It was Melinda's idealized bedroom. It was someplace she could actually feel comfortable and safe.

Jason was totally confused. He stepped back and glanced down the hall. He was sure this was the right room. He distinctly remembered entering the first door on his left.

"I don't understand this," he muttered as he reentered the room, running a hand over his hair.

Melinda's gaze fell on the headboard and she gasped. She reached out and picked up a small stuffed toy in the shape of a fuzzy white kitten. It had been her favorite for many years before it disappeared two years ago, just a day after a huge screaming match with Heather. That had left Heather grounded for two weeks, one of Melinda's rare victories over her sister. A Pyrrhic victory in the end, since Melinda suspected that Heather threw out her prized toy in retaliation.

Melinda sighed with delight and hugged the stuffed kitten to her, smiling wistfully.

Jason stepped to the side and looked over to where the desk had been the day before, except there was no desk, and hence no book. "It's not here!"

Melinda looked up. "Huh?" she said, slightly dazed.

"It's not here, the pictures," Jason said.

"Oh, it's not?" Melinda said. The disappointment in her voice was weak, as if it did not matter to her so much anymore. "Where was it?"

"It was on a desk over there!"

"I don't have a desk. I mean ... this room doesn't have ..."

"This is not the same room!" Jason cried. "I don't get this! This was all different yesterday. None of this was here."

Melinda was only half-listening. She looked down at the bed, smiling softly, wondering if it were like she imagined. She took off her sneakers and climbed onto the bed. She giggled softly as she was greeted by a mattress that was much more yielding than hers at home, and the blankets were thicker and softer, delightfully sensual against her skin.

Jason looked frantically around the room. "Fuck, I know they were here," he muttered to himself. "I don't get this! Where are they?"

Melinda swept her gaze around the room and settled her head back with a pleasant sigh on the plush pillows that lay against the headboard. She felt truly at home here. This is what she had always wanted in a room of her own.

Jason only now noticed Melinda lying on the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she said absently.

"Did you hear what I said, Melinda? I can't find the pictures."

"Oh, it doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter? But I thought you wanted them?"

The truth was, Jason wanted them far more than Melinda ever did, and now that they were gone, he felt cheated. His frustration only increased now that Melinda did not seem to care anymore.

"Who wants some old pictures of Heather touching herself anyway?"

When you can have the real thing right in front of you.

Jason's jaw dropped. "Wh-what ... what did you say?" he breathed.

It took Jason a few moments to realize that it had been the voice that had finished Melinda's thought, and when he did, he was shocked into silence.

Melinda took no notice. She hardly even knew Jason was there anymore, and when she spoke again, she did not even look in his direction. "This is a wonderful room," she said in a dreamy voice. "Very lovely. Very comfortable. Very ..."

Private.

Melinda hesitated, her mouth open slightly, her eyes distant.

Only she had heard it this time. Jason did not react, other than to keep staring at Melinda, his heart thundering. Part of him already understood what was going to happen next, the rest of him hardly daring to believe it.

You are safe here.

For another brief moment, Melinda resisted the fog that was settling over her mind. For an instant, she understood what was happening, and her mind screamed against the darkness. It was not enough. She was again reminded, this time by her own thoughts, of how badly she wanted a room like this, of how desperate she was for this simple solace in her life.

"I am safe here," Melinda whispered.

You can do as you wish here.

Hypnotic and enchanting, the voice was more than mere words. Powerful images flashed through Melinda's mind, memories of the times when she thought she had privacy under her sheets and blankets, when all was dark and still. She could revel in the discovery of her own body and the pleasure she could bring to herself.

Melinda's breathing grew short and labored, her body trembling. Very slowly, she drew her feet towards her, legs bending, and then dropped her knees to either side.

Jason stared, his mouth open, his legs weak. He gripped the bookcase behind him for support. He wanted to say something to her, to make her realize what she was about to do. Yet before he could force the words from his mouth, a stirring in his loins swiftly grew to a hardness, and he could no longer bear to stop her.

The stuffed toy dropped from Melinda's hand and tumbled from the bed and onto the floor. Her skin flushed hot. He fingers curled tightly, as if still resisting.

Don't be cheated again from your due.

Suddenly, in her mind, she was lying on her bed, at night, awake, her sex aching from thoughts she could not put out of her head. This time, however, there was no one around to stop her from doing what she both wanted and desperately needed to do.

Melinda panted lightly, her head lolling to one side as she slid a hand down and under her shorts and panties. She moaned softly as her fingers slid over her very young, slick flesh, her sex swollen with intense, aching arousal. She found the small nub of her womanhood, her fingertips stroking it in slow, gentle circles, movements rippling under her shorts.

Jason swallowed. He could not believe he was witnessing this. He should not be witnessing this. However, he had to see it. He left the bookcase and slowly approached the foot of the bed, his eyes never leaving the girl's spread thighs.

When the voice sounded in his head again, he very nearly bolted.

Do you want to see more?

Jason's mouth worked, but no sound came out.

She is no Heather. But she is better than Heather.

"H-how?" Jason croaked.

She is here. Heather is not.

"The ... the pictures ..."

What are mere pictures compared to this?

All at once, Melinda uttered a distressed groan and she pulled her hand from under her panties. She felt too confined and far too warm, squirming on the bed in her discomfort. She had to do something to relieve it.

Melinda grasped her shorts, sliding them down off her hips, shimmying her thighs out of them until she could pull them down the rest of the way down her legs and off her feet. Jason's eyes widened as his gaze fell upon the center of the girl's pink panties, an irregular, dark stain glistening in the diffuse morning light.

Then to Jason's surprise, Melinda rose to her knees on the bed, facing him, and slid her panties from her hips in a slow, sensuous and provocative movement that no thirteen-year-old had any right to know how to do. Her pussy was covered in just a light fuzz, with a thicker tuft at the apex, her labia still small and her slot tight and thin. Yet there was no mistaking the swell and the light touch of pink of her arousal, nor the moisture that oozed from between the lips.

Melinda settled back onto the bed and slipped the panties from her legs, spreading her thighs again and exposing her tender, young cunt to Jason. Her fingers slid over her wet flesh, fingers sinking and squishing audibly in the quiet of the room. Her hand moved with steady skill in a manner beyond Melinda's years.

Jason drew closer still, unable to take his eyes from what he was seeing, his hand flirting with the bulge that was raised under his jeans. He was growing desperate for relief of his own, his excitement at a fever pitch, but he did not feel comfortable doing it now.

Jason gasped and his hips jerked abruptly as the decision was made for him.

Unseen fingers had materialized under his jeans and began stroking his cock. He opened his mouth to protest, but it died on his lips when Melinda began moaning more urgently, her fingers sliding up and down her virgin slot. She lifted her hips into her hand, panting hard as the pleasure mounted, growing more intense than she had ever experienced before.

Jason fell to his knees, his senses overwhelmed. He placed two shaking hands on the foot of the bed, groaning as firm, sure strokes rippled down his cock, driving him upwards along with Melinda. He was so excited he felt lightheaded. No, this was not Heather, but he didn't care. To him it mattered only that it was a pussy, the first one he got to see for real.

In the passion of the moment, it also did not matter to him that this was not exactly of her own free will.

There was nothing forced about Melinda's reactions to it. She was lost the throes of her self-administered pleasure, her cunt hot with her pent-up lust, as if every desirous feeling that had plagued her since puberty began were descending upon her at once. Yet there was no mistaking that she was controlled, and controlled completely; her mind had been misled into thinking she was alone and enjoying complete privacy, and enhanced to give her fingers and hands far more dexterity in pleasuring than they had already attained from her clandestine explorations.

Melinda's moans grew increasingly strident as she soared upwards, her body quaking. Her fingers moved more quickly, stroking her clit harder. She gasped as she approached a crescendo, the pressure building higher than she ever managed before this.

"Ohhh ..." Melinda groaned loudly, her body tensing. "Ohhh ...!"

Jason felt as though he were gasping for air. The sensual assault on his cock was merciless now, driving him upwards like a rocket. His hands curled into fists, the dreadful thought entering his head that he was going to cum in his pants if he didn't do anything.

Finally, it grew too much for him to bear. With a desperate groan, he staggered back from the bed and yanked at his belt, his breath ragged. On the bed, Melinda's back arched, and her head tilted back. "Uhhhnn!" she cried loudly, following by gasping pants, her hips jerking wildly as she throbbed hard in orgasm.

Jason had barely opened his jeans and yanked his briefs down when his cock started to pulse, making him groan over and over as his seed spurted from his swollen manhood with each throb. He gripped the base of his cock with one hand, propping himself up off the floor with the other, eyes closed tightly as his climax continued nearly as long as Melinda's, leaving him panting for breath when it finally began to fade.

Melinda finally relented, her pussy spent, a leftover ache creeping over it in the wake of her strong orgasm. Her hand fell limply to the side, and she lay motionless, the only sound that of her breathing. Jason looked up, swallowing hard, gazing at a now completely unobstructed view of Melinda's pussy. He still felt a tingle of excitement at this sight, even after having been spent.

When the girl stirred, this jolted Jason back to reality. He very quickly pulled his briefs back up and redid his zipper and belt, standing just in time to see Melinda slowly rise to a seated position on the bed, her eyes closed, a serene smile making her face look cherubic, but in a pervertedly sultry manner.

Melinda slowly opened her eyes and gazed upon Jason, unfocused. Jason just stood, his hands clenching and unclenching nervously. Finally, Melinda blinked rapidly, the smile fading. She cocked her head to one side in a quizzical manner as the haze slowly lifted from her mind. "Huh?" she said in a barely audible voice, looking bewildered. "Jason?"

"Uh ... yes?" Jason said tentatively.

Melinda blinked a few more times. "Jason, what are you doing in my ... no, wait ..." She looked around her. "We're not ... what ... what just happened?"

Her voice softened at the end of her question. She did remember what she had done, but the full implication of it had yet to permeate her mind. "No, never mind. I ... did you just come in? I didn't ..." Melinda shifted on the bed, intending to just swing her legs over the side to get up, until she realized something was very wrong. Her eyes swept downward and she took a long look at herself, seconds ticking away before she could comprehend what she was seeing.

When she did understand, she let go with a shrill shriek.

Jason staggered back. "I didn't do it!" he shouted. It was the only thing he could think of to say, even though it made no sense. "I didn't! I swear!"

Melinda lifted two glazed eyes to him, her body shaking with fear and embarrassment. "You ... y-you saw me ...?!" she sputtered.

"I'm sorry!"

Melinda lunged for the shorts that hung at one edge of the bed and stuffed them between her legs, hiding her pussy from view. "Turn around!"

Jason blinked stupidly. "Turn ... huh?"

"Turn around, you asshole!" Melinda bellowed. "Let me put my clothes back on!"

Jason nodded quickly and turned so that his back was to her.

Melinda had to take a few moments to calm herself, her body quaking in anger and humiliation. She looked around for her panties, but they had fallen to the floor. Holding her shorts against her crotch, she picked them up and blushed hard when she was forced to drop her shorts anyway to put them on.

Melinda felt like she wanted to scream. She didn't understand what had just happened to her. One moment she had entered her room -- this room -- and was reveling in how wonderful it was, how nice it felt here, how safe and secure it was. Then the urge had come over her, the one she often felt late at night, and she simply gave into it without question.

She snapped her panties into place and hesitated a moment before putting her shorts back on. "Okay, fine, turn around again," Melinda said, her voice a little less hysterical. Jason gave her a sheepish look as Melinda took a deep breath. "Jason, just ... just what happened when we came in here? What did I do? What did you see me do?"

Jason's face turned red. "You, uh ... you got on the bed," he said hesitantly. "You ... uh ..."

"Yes, what? What??" Melinda said impatiently.

"I couldn't find the pictures," Jason said blandly. "Then you said something about this being a wonderful room. Then ... then you ... uh ... started, well ... doing what Heather had been doing in her pictures."

Melinda just stared at him. "Just like that?" she demanded. "Right here i-in front of you?"

Jason swallowed again and just nodded.

"And what were you doing?"

"Just watching you."

"You watched me? The whole thing?" Melinda cried, incredulous.

Jason sighed. "What was I supposed to do?" he said petulantly.

"Stop me! Leave! Turn your back! How the hell should I know?!"

Melinda folded her arms and turned away from him, her eyes glistening.

"You made her do this, didn't you?" Jason muttered vehemently in a low, angry voice off to the side.

Melinda whirled around. "What?"

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Then who the fuck were you talking to?"

Jason paused a moment. "The house."

Melinda opened her mouth to retort, but closed it again without saying anything.

"The house ... or something in it ... made you do that."

Melinda thought that sounded insane to her. Houses don't make people do anything. And yet, there was something she remembered, just before she started to play with herself, something like a voice coming from her from a vast distance.

"Look, I ... I didn't know what else to do," Jason said. "I mean ... well, you looked like you were enjoying yourself."

Melinda cast a sharp look at him, but it softened quickly at his innocent gaze. "Well, I was," she said in a small voice, blushing. "I just didn't think I had an audience."

Jason managed a small smile.

"Did you enjoy it, too?"

Jason nodded.

Melinda sighed. Another pause. One corner of her mouth tugged upwards. "As much as looking at those pictures?"

"More than the pictures."

Melinda's blush deepened.

"Seriously, Melinda, I didn't expect any of this to happen," Jason said firmly. "Please, you have to believe me."

"So that bit about pictures of Heather wasn't just some lie to get me here?"

"No, I swear! They were really here! And this room was all different. It looked like my room."

Melinda looked at him in surprise. "Your room?"

"Yes. It looked exactly like it. Well ... not exactly like it. It was like it was idealized or something. Like the room I always wanted."

"That's what this room is now for me!" Melinda cried excitedly. "This is what I want my bedroom to look like without Heather the Bubble-head to share it with."

Jason uttered a short laugh.

Melinda narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What's so funny?"

"Heather the Bubble-head?"

"Yeah, well, I don't exactly get along with her very well, okay?"

"I can tell. Is that why you wanted the pictures of her?"

"What else would bring her down a notch or two? Especially since she said she knew I ..." Melinda paused. "Uh ... well, you know. What I just did."

Jason stared at her. "You do that? I mean ... like, regularly?"

Melinda pressed her lips together, cheeks burning again. "Yeah, and you don't?"

Now it was Jason's turn to blush. "Well ... uh, sometimes ... I just didn't think that girls did that sort of thing much."

"Oh my God. You really don't know squat about girls, do you?"

Not wanting to be the last one to be embarrassed, Jason shot back, "Well, I know a lot more about you now."

Melinda's cheeks went full scarlet. "Well, fine! You know what my pussy looks like! Big freaking deal!"

But it was a big deal to her, a big deal indeed. She had had no control over what boy had seen it first, and now that a boy had, and that boy had been Jason, she was not sure how to feel. If it had been anyone other than someone she already liked, she would have been in hysterical tears by now. At the same time, she felt cheated. He got an eyeful of her, and she got nothing in return.

Come back tomorrow.

Melinda flinched and gasped. "What?"

"Huh?" Jason replied. "I didn't say anything."

"I thought ..."

Come back tomorrow. You will get your wish. But don't let on to Jason. Let it be out little secret, okay?

Melinda swallowed, her heart pounding. "Uh, n-never mind," she said. "Let's get out of here. I think I've had enough of this place."

"You don't want to try and look for ..."

"Tomorrow," Melinda said to her. A small, mischievous smile played on her lips. "We'll come back tomorrow."

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