<-- Previous | Back to index | Next -->

The House at the End of the Street
Copyright A Strange Geek, 2006

Feedback welcome! Use the feedback form below or send email to
[email protected]
( lose YOUR MIND to email me )

Please respect my wishes about reposting my works.

Story codes: mf, ff, msolo, fsolo, group, inc, 1st, oral, voy, mc, nc, bon, toys, humil, magic

The House at the End of the Street -- Chapter 12 of 18


The next morning, Friday, Jason met Melinda at the cul-de-sac. She gave him a small, nervous smile. "Your turn today."

"Yeah, I guess it is," Jason said. "Though I was tempted to let Heather take a turn instead just because of what happened yesterday."

"She may already have plans for that. She's been down here already for over an hour."

Jason flinched at this, remembering what happened the first time Heather did that. "Uh ... why?"

"Don't worry, it doesn't have anything to do with us," Melinda said. "Um, I hope."

"Have you been inside yet?"

Melinda shook her head. She turned to him with a sheepish look on her face. "I, uh, was waiting for you to get here. I didn't want to go in by myself."

Jason was flattered that she could think of him as her protector. It also scared him. "Okay, well, let's see what's what then," he said, trying to sound more confident than he actually felt.

Melinda grabbed his hand as he came alongside her, and they went in the gate and up the walk to the house. They paused at the door for a moment before slipping inside.

Whatever either of them was expecting, it was unlikely what they actually got. Jason just stood and stared at the tableau before him, and Melinda made a short gasping sound, her eyes wide.

"Well, hello, you two," Heather said with a sly smile. "You're just in time for the show."

Heather was sitting on the sofa. Her jeans and panties lay draped over a hand rest, leaving her naked from the waist down. One of her legs was stretched out before her, the foot resting on the floor, while the other she had drawn up onto the sofa, affording a clear view of her pussy by anyone that stood directly in front of her.

She had such an audience. Standing in front of her was Richie. He was completely naked, his cock standing out hard and erect before him. His eyes were riveted at that spot between Heather's legs. He remained still, breathing hard, his body quivering with both excitement and frustration.

"Oh my God," Melinda croaked. "What's ... what's Richie doing ..."

"Nothing, at the moment," Heather said with a wicked grin. "In fact, he's done not much of anything except stare at my pussy and stay all nice and hard."

Jason felt mildly embarrassed at seeing this, and tried to avert his eyes from Richie. "You, uh, have control over him?"

"Damn right I do," Heather said. "I got here at seven-thirty. And you know what I caught this little shit trying to do? He got here at eight. He was going to make sure he got his turn again!"

Melinda chuckled at this. "Yeah, he didn't know you thought of that first."

Heather looked up at Richie. "You like my pussy, don't you, you little perv?"

"Yes, mistress," Richie said in a soft, dreamy voice. It was so incongruous coming from him that Jason snorted in amusement.

"How much do you like it?"

"So much I want to jerk off while I look at it."

Melinda wrinkled her nose. "Eww!"

"Go ahead and try," Heather said, grinning savagely.

Richie wrapped his fingers around his cock and started stroking himself rather vigorously, moaning softly.

"Ick, you have to have him do that in front of us?" Melinda complained.

"You seem to like it when I do it," Jason said with a small smirk.

Melinda blushed. "That's different."

"You're not a total asswipe like this guy," Heather commented.

Richie began to pant, whimpering in distress. His legs shook as he kept masturbating, rising to a point just short of orgasm and stopping. "Uhhh ... uhhh ..."

"What's wrong with him?" Melinda asked, giving him an odd look.

"I found out that this house can do all sorts of neat things," Heather said. "Including not letting him cum. You can stop for now, slave."

Richie's hand dropped. He panted hard for a few moments longer, a tiny bit of pre-orgasmic seed oozing from him. His cock pulsed with his heartbeat, tinged purple from its constant, prolonged hardness.

"You know, this is getting me horny. Richie?"

"Yes, mistress." Despite his enslavement, there was an undertone of disillusion in his voice as he turned his back to her.

Heather grinned and started slowly stroking herself. Jason shuffled his feet, his cheeks coloring as his own cock hardened at the sight of this.

"He's not allowed to look at me, you see," Heather explained. "That's right, Richie. I'm playing with myself and you can't watch me ... mmm, that feels good ..."

Melinda giggled. "Heather, you're evil."

Jason was feeling increasingly uneasy looking at this. "Um, Heather?"

Heather turned her head and gave him a sultry smile, a long, contented sigh escaping her lips as her fingers slid slowly up and down her now thoroughly wet slot. "Hmm?"

"It, uh, can get kind of uncomfortable to be like that for a long time," Jason said, nodding towards Richie.

"Oh, I know. I'm counting on that."

"It can?" Melinda asked softly of Jason.

Jason glanced at her, his blush deepening, and just nodded. He remembered one time last semester he happened to be passing by the girls' locker rooms. Two girls were horsing around, having just come out of the showers, their towels their only covering. One pushed the other into the hall as a joke just as Jason walked by, and then snatched her towel away. It was only a moment before the girl screamed and ducked back inside, but Jason had gotten an eyeful.

The incident made him very aroused, and he could not get it off his mind. It kept him hard through the next two classes. By the time it finally relented, his balls felt so swollen he was sure they would explode if he got hard again without being able to get any relief.

"You two just go about your business," Heather said. "While I have fun with the small-dicked wonder here."

Melinda giggled madly at this, and Jason managed a small smile, but he did not find it nearly as funny. Despite what Richie might have done, he didn't like hearing someone putting down another guy's, well, equipment.

Whether his displeasure factored into the speed of Melinda's fall to his will he would never know. He only knew that in his moment of distraction, Melinda exhaled sharply and shuddered, swaying for a moment before clutching at his arm, her mind enslaved so rapidly she was barely conscious it had happened until she was again helpless to control herself. "This is making me very horny, master," she cooed. "Tell me how I may please you."

Jason took a deep breath and let it go. He took Melinda's hand and led her quickly across the room and to the stairs.

"Now I'll stop long enough for you to turn around and try to jerk off for me again, slave," Heather said behind them as they left the room.


Jason was a little freaked out by what Heather was doing to Richie. He didn't like how vengeful Heather was acting. Worse, his anger affected his thinking and his desires. When Melinda undressed in the bedroom, she immediately sank to her knees, moaning and stroking herself. "Please let me suck your cock, master," she begged. "Please cum in my mouth, it tastes so delicious!"

For once, he did not blush upon hearing such things.

Jason let her hungrily devour his cock, moaning through her nose in her enthusiasm. She took him deeper into her mouth than she had before, and Jason could not resist the impulse to rock his hips and thrust himself forcefully. Melinda grew ever more excited at his bidding, her free hand vigorously rubbing her slick pussy until she trembled with her rising pleasure.

Melinda's head bobbed quickly back and forth, Jason's breath growing short. Her moans grew more high-pitched, urgent, and strained, her hand moving faster. Her hips jerked suddenly as she crested, her body shaking.

She never let up on his cock even as the paroxysms of her orgasm overcame her, as Jason would not let her. She did not falter once, and not long after, Jason groaned as his cock pulsed in her mouth, squirting his cum towards the back of her throat. She continued stroking him vigorously with her lips until he was spent, rolling his seed around in her mouth for a few seconds before swallowing and licking his cock clean.

His orgasm took the edge of some of his feelings of distress over Heather and Richie, and he felt a twinge of guilt for making Melinda act a little more ... well, slutty was the only word he could come up with that fit. It was a little too much like Richie had done to Heather.

He tried to make it up to her. He had her lie on the bed, where she smiled and opened her legs for him, giving him a sultry look. He descended towards her, Melinda spreading her labia with her fingers for him. He crawled between her legs, wrapping his arms around her thighs and lowering his face to her pussy.

"Ooooo..." Melinda purred as he started to lick her. "Ohhh, God, that feels so good! ... I love it when you eat me! Uhhh ... "

Jason smiled to himself. He supposed having her talk a little bit like that wouldn't be too bad.


"Stop."

Richie stopped masturbating, the fifth time that she had done this to him. Heather was panting lightly, having risen enough that she kept her fingers pressed to her slot when he was facing her, so she would not drop back too far. Richie was starting to lose his composure even under his enslavement. His legs were shaking, his cock felt strained, and his balls ached badly. Some drops of cum had dribbled from the head.

"So, should I let you cum or not?" she asked, a tiny smile playing on her lips. Her voice was a bit breathless.

"I w-would like to cum, mistress," Richie said in a quavering voice.

"Maybe I don't want you to." Heather's fingers moved slowly over the wet flesh of her pussy. "Maybe I want to get off on you not cumming."

Richie just swallowed and said nothing.

"You made me sound like a fucking slut yesterday. I didn't like that."

Without further bidding from his mistress, Richie again said nothing.

"Watch me, Richie," Heather said with a malevolent gleam in her eyes. Her fingers moved more quickly now, her fingers dipping slightly into her cunt. "Watch me do something you'll never do with me again."

Richie's eyes glazed over as they focused on her pussy, his mouth dropping open when his excitement rose to painful levels. Heather spread her thighs wide, giving him as good a view as she could. Her fingers, slick with her moisture, moved purposely and obviously through her slot. She sighed softly in mounting pleasure, her head tilting back as she slid two fingers into her tunnel. She thrusted into herself with a steady rhythm, sighs deepening to moans, the sofa creaking as she moved harder and faster.

Richie's hands twitched as if he were fighting the control, even though he knew he would not reach climax even if he could touch himself.

Heather shuddered and threw her head back. "Uhhh! ... Uhhh ..." Her pussy throbbed under her fingers, strong but not deep or long, and in short order it faded. Her continued strokes prolonged it only a few more seconds. As she came down, she lifted her head, panting mildly. She looked at him and chuckled. "Wow. Even me doing it to myself with you watching me is as lame as when you fuck me. I didn't even squirt that time."

Heather stared at Richie for a few moments before sighing dramatically. "All right. I suppose you can cum, then."

There was very little warning. He did not even raise his hand to his cock. Apparently, her order was taken at face value. He rocketed up the remaining way (which was not a long path to take), shuddered, and began to throb wildly, the first few pulses throwing rope-like streams of his seed in quick, staccato spurts. Heather flinched in surprise and just managed to pull her leg up and out of the way before any of him could splash on it. She stared at him with a look that was both amused and uneasy.

Richie moaned and panted, finally grabbing his now badly aching cock with his hand and milking the last of his orgasm from it, his seed still emerging in a thinner, dribbling stream. It remained hard until his climax finally expended itself, and even then it was slow to deflate. He uttered a relieved sigh as his hand dropped.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed that," Heather said with a smirk.


Jason's cock grew hard again sooner than he had expected. He grew eager to penetrate her, and this was relayed into his slave's mind immediately. "Oh, master, fuck me, please!" Melinda moaned.

Breathing hard in excitement, he picked himself up and slid over her. He had enough presence of mind to take the initial entry slowly, letting his cock slip into her tight tunnel a little at a time. Melinda moaned lustily, and when he was halfway inside her, she impatiently raised her hips and drove him into her the rest of the way, uttering a little whimper as she did, for she was already growing close to orgasm.

He rocked his hips against her, taking very little time to build up to a faster pace. Her cunt was slick and hot, and he moved more easily despite her tightness. Melinda felt herself take off without warning; in seconds she was over the top and cumming, squeezing his cock inside her pussy. She cried out, her orgasm lasting longer from his constant presence inside her. Yet not long after it abated, she started to rise again.

"Oh my God!" Melinda cried. "Ohhh! ... Make me cum again, please!"

It was too much. Jason was overdoing it with her. He clamped down on his impulses and she fell silent, save for the noises that she made that he so liked. He fucked her harder, encountering no resistance and nothing but squeals of pleasure from Melinda. As excited as he was it did not take much more time. Not long after, he was cumming inside her hard. She crested over again the next second, her cries joining his moans.

Immediately after he was spent, he groaned one more time and rolled from her onto his back, draping his arm across his forehead as he caught his breath.

Melinda felt herself released from the control almost as quickly as she had been placed under it. She felt a little lightheaded for a few seconds, blinking rapidly. "I think you got a little carried away, Jason," she said mildly.

"Yeah," Jason replied contritely. "I'm sorry about that."

"Are you sure you are?"

"Well, yeah, I am. I was ... I was just a little upset with Heather."

"Oh."

"I wasn't trying to take anything out on you. I just got a little, I don't know, aggressive."

"I thought you liked it quiet during sex," Melinda persisted.

"I do," Jason said in an exasperated voice. "Look, I'm sorry, it won't happen again. You can do it to me next time or something. I ..."

At that moment, shouting suddenly erupted from downstairs.

"Oh, now what?" Melinda cried, jumping up.

Jason got up with her, but there was no way he wanted to go downstairs nude. He grabbed his briefs and saw Melinda already slipping her panties back on. She grabbed her bra as they both left, putting it on as they headed down the stairs.

" ... the fuck are you complaining about?!" Heather was screaming when they got to the bottom of the stairs. "You got off, didn't you?"

"You just made me do some stupid jerk-off in front of you, that's all!" Richie bellowed back, his face red as he struggled to get his clothing back on. "Yeah, some fun that was!"

"What did you expect, you asshole! After what you did to me yesterday!"

"Oh, get over yourself already! You fucking enjoyed it! You fucking came!"

"Just because I came doesn't mean I enjoyed it!"

Richie saw Jason and Melinda come in. Despite having her underwear on, Melinda still had to fight the urge to cover herself up in front of Richie. "Jason, you know what this bitch just did to me?!" he screeched.

"Uh, yeah, I got the general idea," he said. He gave Heather a sour look.

Heather put her hands on her hips, indignant. "And just what the hell is your problem?" she snapped at Jason.

"Richie, she wouldn't have done it if you hadn't tried to cheat!" Melinda cried.

"What cheating? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"The way you snuck down here at eight in the morning, that's what!" Heather said.

"Yeah, and you were here already! So who's cheating?"

"Only because I knew you would pull something like this!"

"Guys, come on!" Jason said. "Look, can't you just call it even?"

"Huh?" Richie said, looking askance at his friend.

"You did Heather and she did you. You're even."

"Fuck that, Jason! She didn't even touch me!"

"What difference does that make?" Melinda piped. "If you're in control, you do whatever you want. That's the rules."

"Oh, fuck your damn rules and fuck you, too, Melinda!" Richie yanked his shirt on and glared at the lot of them. "Fine! Forget it! Maybe I just won't come back again, okay? That's what you wanted anyway!"

Jason sighed. "Richie ..."

"No, don't even talk to me, Jason. I don't wanna hear it. And you know something? Maybe when the school year begins, I won't care so much if the bullies stomp all over your ass. Maybe I'll watch and laugh instead."

Jason's face fell, even though he had more or less expected that.

"I'm outta here. This is bogus." Richie stomped across the room and out the door.

There was silence for the next few moments.

"Well, I guess you did get what you wanted," Jason said sardonically to Heather.

"Look, he was the one that started it, okay?" Heather said hotly. "Don't blame me. I was just giving him back a little of what he gave me."

"Does it really matter?" Melinda said. "He's gone. Jason, I'm sorry, but we really didn't want him here to begin with."

"Yeah, I know."

Heather gathered up her panties and jeans. "Guys, if you two want to invite him back, that's your business."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Melinda asked.

"I mean I think I'm bowing out of this. I don't think I want to do this anymore. I've been neglecting Brad, and he's starting to get upset. Stop it, Melinda!"

Melinda had started to make gagging sounds at the mention of Brad's name. Jason cracked a smile at this.

"Why don't you two get your clothes and we'll get out of here?" Heather said in a softer voice. "I think I need a walk or something to calm down."

Jason and Melinda turned and headed back towards the stairs. Heather watched them go before dressing again.

You'll come back.

Heather flinched. She paused a moment before saying in a low voice, "No, I won't."

Yes, you will. I know you too well, Heather. You cannot stay away.

Her heart started to pound. "You can't tell me what to do."

It's not me that will make you return. It's you.

She took a deep breath and let it go, refusing to say anything more. Shortly after she finished dressing, Melinda and Jason returned, also dressed. "Come on, let's go," she said, and quickly led the way out.

"Are you sure you want to give up on this place, Heather?" Jason asked as they emerged into the sunlight.

Heather laughed. "You just want to fuck me again."

"Yeah, so?"

She looked at him in surprise. "Wow, you even admit it now."

Melinda glanced between them as they walked towards the gate. "Well, Jason and I will still keep coming back, right?"

"That's fine for you two," Heather said. "But just count me out, okay? I don't want anything to do with it anymore."

SLAM!

Melinda nearly screamed. They spun around, and saw that the front door had closed on the house. They have seen it close behind them before, but never with such force. A few seconds later, a slightly chill breeze wafted over them. Heather shivered.

"Great, Heather, now you got it mad!" Melinda said. "You better hope it lets us in again!"

"Oh, stop being melodramatic," Heather said, though she glanced nervously back at the door. "A house can't get mad. Right?"

None of them said anything for a few moments.

"This is silly. Let's go." Heather lifted the latch on the gate and the three of them let themselves out.


Heather was in a much better mood this time when she arrived at Brad's house, feeling like she had had a weight lifted from her shoulders. She could enjoy a day with her boyfriend this time.

This was very well and good, for she had no time to consider anything else. She had just turned around after he had closed the door behind her when he suddenly seized her by the arms and drew her into a very hard kiss.

"Mmmrrph ..." Heather murmured, resisting him for just a moment before slowly relaxing. He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her body to his, not letting up for a moment. His mouth opened and forced hers to do the same, his tongue thrusting past her lips. She drew in her breath sharply through her nose as his hands dropped down and roughly stroked her ass through her jeans.

This time she had little trouble growing excited. Doing herself back at the house had not satisfied her. She had not expected him to be so aggressive, but soon she didn't seem to care as much. His hands slid up the back of her shirt and yanked her bra open. She was forced to break off the kiss when he started grabbing her breasts from under the shirt.

"Jesus, Brad," Heather breathed. His thumbs stroked her nipples, making her shudder and moan.

"Don't refuse me today, babe," Brad growled. One of his hands scrabbled at the waist of her jeans.

Something about his voice made her nervous, but she smiled at him nevertheless. "I won't, not today ... not ... oh Brad ... uhhhn ..."

Brad's hand was down her panties, thick fingers stroking her hard. Fortunately she was already very wet, and his fingers slid easily over her slick folds. She panted, bending over slightly, parting her legs. "Oh God ... B-Brad, let's get into the b-bedroom unless you want me cumming right here ..."

Brad gave her a smirk that said he wouldn't necessarily mind that, but he withdrew his hand anyway and grabbed one arm, as if afraid she was going to run away from him. She had to jog a little to keep from being dragged along, as impatient as he was.

The two of them stripped as soon as they walked in, Heather finishing first. She smiled as his jeans came down and she saw the massive bulge of his manhood behind his briefs. She reached with her hand and playfully stroked it a few times through the cotton, and then directly with her fingers when he yanked his briefs down. She started to drop to her knees, but Brad stopped her and pulled her back up.

"On the bed, babe," he said, his voice low and urgent.

Heather hesitated a moment, but complied. She felt a mixture of lust and trepidation, and her legs trembled a bit as she spread them for him.

Brad jumped onto the bed and slid between her legs. He smiled at her and stroked her slot with his fingers, letting one sink into her tunnel. Heather let her breath go as a ragged sigh. His fingers massaged her clit firmly, making her shudder and moan. She saw him start to slowly dip towards her pussy, and she dropped her head back on the pillow, closing her eyes in anticipation.

Yet instead of feeling his tongue on her as she had expected, she felt the angle of his fingers change and sensed movement above her. She opened her eyes and looked up in time to see him over her.

Heather saw the look in his eyes and understood. She raised her hands to his shoulders and tried to sit up, pushing him back gently. "Wait, Brad, I ... "

Heather's words became a gasp as he grabbed her wrists and leaned forward. His weight forced her back down hard onto the mattress, her hands pinned down above her head, his body pressing down on hers. "Oh God, Brad, what a-are you ..." she stammered in a panic.

"No excuses this time, babe," Brad said.

"Brad, no, I'm not ready, I ... uhhhnn!"

Her protest died when she felt his cock spear her.

Heather panted, partly from fear and partly from intense arousal, as his aggressiveness had done nothing to diminish how horny she was. The latter overcame the former as he started to fuck her, the tension in the muscles of her arms relaxing. She did want it, despite her own objections, and now that it was happening she didn't want to stop it.

Yet two things were clear after only a few moments of his thrusting. The first was that he was bare. He had put on no protection whatsoever. The second was that he was indelicate. He was not hurting her by any means, but it was soon evident that she felt only a light tease against her clit, and she desperately wanted more.

She tried to angle her hips to his, but the way he pinned her down made it difficult. She managed a little, and felt herself rise more, but it was still tantalizingly short of what she wanted.

Brad groaned he rose much faster than she did, his hips coming down on hers harder. "S-slow down, Brad," Heather moaned. "Please, slow down a little ..."

It fell on deaf ears. He just pounded into her all the more urgently.

Heather was frustrated. He was going to get there first and she was going to be left wanting again. She wished they were in the house. Then she could get him to do exactly what she wanted.

The next second, Brad faltered. His body trembled for a moment, and he partially withdrew from her. He paused, his face appearing confused at first, then softening into a more serene, gentle look. He peered down at her and said softly, "Whatever you want, mistress."

Heather gaped at him. "What did you just ... just ... uhhh ... uhhh! ..."

He had started fucking her again, but more slowly, his hips rocking forward more. Now each time he thrusted into her, she felt each stroke against her, urging her upwards.

"Oh yeah ... oh yeah, Brad, like that ..." Heather moaned. "Oh, yeah!"

He dived deeper into her, stroking harder without moving too much faster quite yet. His body quivered and strained, and it was obvious that he was very close himself but somehow not going any further.

"Ohhh! ... More! ... Oh, yeah! ... Uhhh! ..."

Heather rocked her hips with his, panting hard as she soared. Now she was ready for the rest, and he complied without a word from her. He fucked her hard and fast, both of them breathing in ragged gasps, the bed creaking under them with the force of his thrusts.

She rose higher, straining hard, her teeth clenching as she hovered excruciatingly at the edge for another few seconds before barreling over the top. She cried out stridently, a single hot spurt of fluid squirting from her cunt, drenching the two of them where they were joined. Her hips started to buck with her orgasm.

Distracted by the intensity of her climax, she did not think of his lack of protection, and thus did nothing to stop him from cumming inside her. He groaned loudly as his cock let loose, pumping his seed into her. Heather had already started to come down from her own climax, and her eyes flew open in surprise when she abruptly rose and pulsed a second time.

When the two of them were spent, Brad eased off her, shaking his head. He collapsed onto his side, placing a hand over his eyes. "Man, that was weird," he said in soft and somewhat spooked voice.

Heather lay there for a few more moments as she caught her breath. With her desire satisfied, her mind reeled with the reality of what had just happened. "Oh my God ..."

"Still, that was great, Heather," Brad said, smiling weakly as the fog lifted completely from his mind. "I knew you'd be fantastic and you were."

Heather turned to him. "You idiot."

Brad blinked. "Huh?"

"You ... you didn't use anything ... you said you'd use one!"

"Oh, well ... what difference does it make?"

Heather bolted up. "What?!"

"Come on, you're on the pill, right?"

Heather dropped her head into her hands. "I told you a hundred times, Brad, no! I am not on the fucking pill!"

"But all the girls are on it."

"I'm not!" Heather roared, jumping out of bed. "Oh my God, Brad, you fucking asshole!"

Brad frowned and scrambled to his feet. "What the hell's the problem now?"

Heather nearly screamed at him, but instead she stopped herself and just ran a hand nervously through her hair. She was going to accuse him of raping her, but she knew that was a lie. She wanted it as much as he had, it was just a matter of timing and place. She was simply angry as hell at him.

And what had happened in the middle? It was as if she had taken control of him, as if they were indeed in the house at the end of the street and not in Brad's place. It had turned their sex from get-Brad's-rocks-off to a mutually pleasurable experience.

And a multiple orgasm! That never happened to her before.

"Nothing, Brad," Heather said sullenly. "I just wish you'd listen to me sometimes."

"I've listened to you all I wanted," Brad said sharply. "All the times you kept refusing me. Damn, you saw how good it was. So I forced the issue a little. Big fucking deal. You liked it enough."

"Yeah, only after I started to ..."

Brad narrowed his eyes. "After you started to what?"

Heather sighed and shook her head. "Nothing. Look, I think I better go."

Brad gave her a chagrined look. "Well, okay." He watched her dress for a few seconds. "Um ... Heather, if you, you know, get any trouble because of this ..."

"You mean if I get pregnant?" Heather asked icily.

"Uh, yeah. I'll, uh, help you pay for anything, uh, you may need to do ..."

"Don't do me any favors."

"Well, shit, I'm just trying to help!"

Heather yanked her shirt down over her bra.

"I'll call you," Brad said tentatively as she turned to leave.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever."

She marched out of the room, down the stairs, and out the door.


Heather was so upset that she came close to bursting into tears several times as she walked home, but she was not sure what it was that upset her. Was it that Brad had tried to take advantage of her? And just what happened in the middle of it? How did she do it?

She eventually came to the intersection where she would turn left to continue on home, but instead paused and looked ahead of her, where the street to the cul-de-sac lay.

That damn house. Did it cause her problem, or did it just save her?

Heather continued on. Soon she she found herself standing at the gate to the house. She stared up the walk and at the closed door, uttering a forlorn sigh. She started to turn away, and heard a soft click. When she turned around again, the front door was now standing open. Her heart thumping, she let herself in the gate and entered the house.

The lighting was subdued, as the sun no longer shone on the front of the house in the afternoon, and there were no interior lights apparent at the moment. It made the place look not so much frightening as sepulchral. The tick of the clock sounded louder to her.

I said you would come back.

Heather flinched. "What ... what happened with me and Brad? Do you know about it?"

Yes, Heather. You received a taste of power.

"Power? What power?"

The same power you've used on the others in this house.

Heather hesitated. "Does that mean I ... I won't get pregnant?"

Yes. It protected you from that.

Heather uttered a relieved sigh.

I can give you this power, Heather.

"What, you mean, like all the time?"

Oh, yes. You'll be able to use it on him whenever you like.

"How? When?" Heather asked excitedly.

It will take some time. But you must keep coming back here.

Heather shuddered. "But ... I have to keep submitting to the others," she said in a low voice.

Power always has a price. Are you willing to pay it?

Heather swallowed. "I don't know."

I'm sure you will, Heather, in time.

"What about the others? They want it, too, don't they? This power?"

Does it matter? You're the oldest, correct?

Slowly, Heather nodded.

You're the eldest. You're the most mature of them. They should do as they're told.

"Yes, they should! I told them from the start this was fucked up, but Melinda wouldn't listen, and Jason went along with her."

Then certainly you deserve the power.

"Damn right I do."

Then be patient. Let the others show how petty they are with their power.

"I'll keep coming back," Heather said softly. "I promise. No matter what happens to me."

A wise decision, Heather. In the meantime, you'll have the power occasionally if you need it.

"When I need it? You mean, like if Brad tries something like that again?"

Yes. Or ... if it just amuses you to have him please you properly.

Heather slowly smiled.

Now, go.

Heather jumped as she heard a soft creaking sound behind her. She turned to see the front door swing wide open.

She quickly left, the door swinging shut and locking behind her.


Richie was so angry and hurt by his experience at the house that nothing could soothe him. When he tried to hang out with some friends, he nearly got into a fistfight with one of them. He didn't fare much better at home. His mother came home early, but only so she could shower and change clothes for a date that evening.

Richie refused to talk to her at first. After finding nothing to keep him occupied without his thoughts returning to the house, he finally left his room and found his mother in the master bedroom, fixing her hair before the mirror that was mounted on the dresser.

Sandra glanced at him briefly. "So what the hell's the matter now?" she asked crossly.

"Who says something's wrong?" Richie retorted sharply.

"When you have an attitude like that, I know something's wrong."

"Like you'd care anyway."

"Yeah? Try me. So whatsamatter? Didn't get laid today or something?"

Richie bristled. "Just shut up about that, okay?!" he bellowed.

Sandra paused a moment, giving her son a significant look. "Nice way to yell at your mother," she said darkly.

Richie fumed for a few moments, tempted to shout at her again just to spite her. "Look, never mind, I don't wanna talk about it."

Sandra just shrugged. "Whatever. You never fucking listen to me anyway."

"So you're going out again?"

"Gee, brilliant observation, fuckwit," Sandra sneered. "I guess that's why you keep pulling all those C's and D's in school."

Richie rolled his eyes and nearly bolted from the room in frustration.

"You should have that kid tutor you again. What the fuck was his name again? The geeky guy with glasses."

"Jason. And never mind that. Why do you have to go out again?"

Sandra stopped and sighed. She turned to face her son. "Maybe so I can get out of this place for awhile," she replied. "Maybe so I can have a little fun."

"Maybe so you can get horizontal," Richie muttered.

"Yeah, maybe that, too. And maybe if I lay the right guy, he'll move in and I don't have to break my back working to afford this place. And just maybe I like fucking. You think of that? Just because I'm not a horny teenager doesn't mean I don't have needs."

"Yeah, and what about some of the stuff I like, huh?" Richie said in a challenging tone. "Some of the things that I need?"

Sandra cast a patronizing look at him. "Like what?"

"Like a mother that maybe bothers to stay home and cook a meal now and then."

Sandra almost laughed at this. Almost. Her mouth had curled into a smile, and she was about to part her lips when she simply stopped. Her eyes glazed and she shuddered, the hairbrush nearly dropping from her hand.

"Sometimes I get tired doing it myself all the time, you know?!" Richie shouted, his voice rising. "Sometimes I just want to be a normal kid with a normal Mom! Can't you do that now and then? Can't you do that tonight at least?!"

Sandra paused, taking a single deep breath and letting it go. She smiled pleasantly at her son and carefully placed the hairbrush down on the top of the dresser. "Of course, I'll do that right away for you."

At first, Richie's fury rose and his fists clenched as he thought she was being sarcastic. But when she rose to her feet and walked away from the dresser, past him and towards the stairs, his anger turned to surprise. "Wait, Mom, where're you going?" he asked.

Sandra stopped at the top of the stairs and turned, still smiling. "To prepare dinner, of course."

Richie's jaw dropped. She was serious. He looked at her eyes. He had seen that look before. It was just like what he saw with Heather when he had control of her.

Holy fucking shit, he thought.

"Is there something else you would like me to do instead?"

Richie's heart raced. How was he doing this? Was it the same thing as in the house? He could not believe this. He had to test it somehow. Just a small test.

"Um ... get down on your knees," Richie said in a small voice.

Sandra dropped to her knees.

"Holy ... uh ... get ... get down on all fours."

She obeyed.

Oh my fucking God.

"Uh ... o-okay, stand up and go make dinner for me."

Sandra rose to her feet and smiled at him before turning and heading down the stairs.

Richie just stood there for a minute, shaking. He was so excited he had gotten hard. Not for any sexual desire for his mother, but just at the power itself. It was a huge rush, even more so than it had been at the house.

But was it the house doing this? He had to know!

He raced down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his mother bustled about preparing a nice meal. He wanted to know how long it was going to take, but before the words could reach his lips, Sandra turned and said, "Dinner will take about an hour."

"Uh ... okay ... is it okay if I ..." Richie stopped. No, he didn't have to ask permission. One did not ask permission from a slave. "I'm going out for a short while. Be back soon."

"Okay, Richie."

Richie ran and headed out into the twilight as if afraid his mother could change her mind.


As with the Heather, the door opened willingly for him.

"All right, what the fuck gives?" he demanded as he stood in the living room. His voice quavered badly. The only light in the room was from two small flickering oil lamps on either corner of the mantel. They gave Mara's portrait a faintly demonic air. "What was all that with my mother?"

A taste of power, Richie.

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

Do you not wish this power? The same power you wielded over Heather that first day?

"I ... but ... well, yeah, I guess."

I can offer it to you.

Richie felt his heart pound in excitement. "You mean, like all the time? With my mother? With ... with the others? Heather? Melinda? All that?"

Yes, indeed.

Richie started to grin. "Holy shit. I can do all that now? Wow!"

No, not yet, Richie.

"That means I can ... huh? No? But you just said ...!"

I said you have a taste of power. You do not have the complete power yet.

"So I can't use it again?"

You can, but only as you need it. You don't have it permanently.

"Okay, fine, how do I get it permanently, then?"

Very simple. Come back here every day.

"Fuck that! Not if Heather's gonna pull the same shit on me!"

Power comes with a price. You have to be willing to pay it.

"What about tomorrow, huh? Don't I get a turn?"

Oh, yes. You will have your turn, Richie.

Richie paused. "With Heather?"

With her. And Melinda.

"Cool," he said, smiling. "I get both of them. And I can do whatever I want, right?"

Anything you desire of them.

"No matter who gets here first, right?"

Yes. I promise it to you only.

"Yeah! Okay, then, uh, whoever you are, I'll keep coming back. But you better come through on that!"

Oh, I will. After all, you're the most deserving.

"Better believe I am," Richie said. "What the hell do they need it for? Heather's popular at school. Jason and Melinda are a couple. They don't need it."

And their parents act like parents. Sadly, unlike yours.

"But she will, all the time. Once you give me this. Right?"

Most definitely, Richie. For now, use it as you need to.

"Awesome!"

Now get back to your mother and have that nice dinner she's preparing for you. You've earned it.

Richie grinned and left. The door closed silently behind him.


<-- Previous | Back to index | Next -->

Feedback

Did you like this story? Hate it? Printed it and lined the birdcage with it?

Please take a moment to send me some comments about this story. Your comments may remain anonymous if you prefer, or you can include an email address in your comments if you wish a reply.

Since this is a multi-part story, you may wait until the last chapter to send feedback about the story as a whole if you wish.