Chapter 17

Saturday morning.

Jason never did think of any new scheme to delay the others, nor was he able to get up in time to get to the house any earlier than the "normal" time. Without saying nary a word to either of his parents, he simply headed out the door and began walking towards the house as quickly as possible.

Richie never did wake up on time to head over to the house before the crack of dawn. He had taken so long to get back to sleep that he did not awaken until well after the sun had risen. He did not bother to even try and talk to his mother. He simply dressed and headed out.

Melinda and Heather said nothing to each other as they rose, showered, and dressed. Melinda studiously avoided her mother's gaze as the two girls marched out the front door together.

They turned onto the street from the walk, casting a momentary glare at each other, and falling into uneasy step side by side. After passing a few houses, Melinda quickened her steps. Heather reached out and grabbed her little sister's shirt by the collar and dragged her back. Heather increased her stride, but Melinda elbowed her in the side and started to overtake her. Heather jogged to catch up, pushed Melinda to the side, and pulled out ahead.

Suddenly, from behind, Richie barreled his way through them, pushing both of them to either side so roughly that they almost stumbled and fell.

Melinda and Heather broke into a run hot on Richie's heels. They caught up with him just short of the intersection, clawing at the back of his shirt and bringing him almost to a stop. He fought to shrug them off, stumbling and allowing them to pull up beside him. He viciously shoved Melinda off her feet and tried to kick out one of Heather's legs from under her. He just barely caught one of her ankles, forcing her to stumble to a halt. As she rounded on Richie, Melinda ran full-tilt into him and knocked him off his feet.

As the three of them got into a shoving match, Jason ran through the intersection and towards the cul-de-sac.

The three of them stopped tussling with each other and ran in pursuit of Jason. Richie was the first to catch up with him, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him back. Richie edged out ahead of the others and slammed into the gate.

The others piled up behind him. Melinda kicked his hand from the latch. Richie shoved her off her feet. Heather kicked him in the shin. Jason pushed him to one side and made the grab for the latch himself. Richie tried to throw a punch at him but missed, letting Heather trip him and send him to the ground. Jason managed to unlatch the gate, but Heather pushed him down as he opened it. Melinda popped up and ran, elbowing Heather in the ribs and knocking the wind from her. Just as Melinda made it to the door, Richie grabbed her and shoved her to one side, only to have Jason push him down. Heather barreled into both of them, and they spilled into the doorway and onto the living room floor.

"I got in first!" Heather shouted, her breathing ragged as she struggled to her feet. "It's my turn!"

"Bullshit!" Richie roared. "You bitch! I fell in before you!"

"Fuck you, Richie!" Jason screamed. "I was in front of you when you fell!"

"You little shits!" Melinda screeched. "You all cheated! Fucking cheaters!"

All four began to yell at once, hurling vile epithets between shouts demanding his or her turn, punctuated by occasional shoves, kicks, and punches.

"Wait! Wait a minute! Everybody, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Jason bellowed.

The other three abruptly fell silent and glared at him.

"Look, it's obvious we can't agree who got in first."

"I said I got here first!" Heather exclaimed, red-faced. This started up the bickering once again.

Jason called for silence again until his throat was almost raw. "Shit, will everyone be quiet for a minute? Let's do what we did before. Let the house decide."

A sullen look came over everyone's faces as their eyes flitted suspiciously amongst the others.

"Fine," Melinda finally said, though a single stamp of her foot showed what she really thought of this idea.

"Yeah, all right," Heather said resignedly.

Jason turned to Richie expectantly.

Richie folded his arms, and shot Jason a furious look. "Whatever."

Jason relaxed. He was quite surprised at how everyone fell for that. It looked like he was going to get his way after all. After all, he was the responsible one, the one that really deserved the power.

"Okay," he said, his voice sounding more confident as he looked up. "Uh, do you know who's turn it is today?"

The answer came back immediately: Yes, of course I do.

Jason started to smile. "Then whose is it?"

Mine.

Jason's smile faded. "Huh?"

"What?" Heather cried.

"Jason, what did it mean by that?" Melinda asked, eyes glistening with fear. "What did it mean?!"

"I don't get it," Richie said, though his eyes betrayed mounting dread.

The front door slammed shut, startling all four into silence.

Melinda felt it first. "Oh my God..."

"What? No..." Heather murmured.

"Aw fuck, no, c'mon!" Richie cried.

Jason could not get this throat to work, and simply whimpered.

There was barely any time at all to resist. It swept down on their minds like a flood, overwhelming them, drowning out the mental scream that came from the realization that they were being enslaved by someone or something whose motivations they knew nothing about.

Save for Jason. He knew something of Mara, and what she had likely gone through. Because of it, his anguish was far more than the others put together. When it descended upon him, he fought it viciously, so much so that he very nearly seemed to hold it back for a second. But when it swept in anyway the next moment, he realized it had only been toying with him, as if mocking his knowledge.

Then it was over. All resistance and will was gone. Four glassy-eyed teens stood in a rough circle, standing still, their bodies trembling slightly as they obediently responded to their mistress' wishes.

So you all wanted power, did you?

Their breathing grew deep and husky, panting softly as each of them grew swiftly and intensely aroused.

Then I will show you power.

Pussies grew damp. Cocks grew hard. They moaned their distress, their desperate need for relief.

I will show you how this power is to be wielded.

All four of them began to strip off their clothes.

And when it is over, we'll see who really deserves the power.

Four naked teens now stood facing each other, shaking with lust so intense that denying it was driving them slowly mad. Hands clenched into fists with the desire to touch their aroused flesh.

Now my little slaves, upstairs with you, and we'll have some fun.

The four of them fell into step and headed silently towards the stairs, their mind obeying every command fed to them without thought or question.

Or at least I will have some fun. But that's what it's all about when you have the power.

The house made no effort to conjure anything resembling something they would recognize, for it was no longer important. The room the four entered was not even a bedroom, nor did it even have furniture. It was nothing more than a place with four walls, a ceiling, and a floor covered in several layers of plush cushions. It was no longer a bedroom, but a room designed for one specific purpose in mind.

There was no delicacy, no foreplay, no buildup, no sense of desire of enjoyment or wish for satisfaction. It was direct, sudden, and intense. It was little more than the raw expression of brutal lust magnified to obscene proportions.

The moment they walked into the room, Melinda and Heather fell onto their backs, and Jason and Richie coupled with them. Each boy simply stabbed his partner's pussy with his cock and began quick, mechanical fucking. There were no sounds other than simple moans and whimpers of building towards sexual release. It could hardly be termed "pleasure".

Their cries of orgasm were strident, short, and mournful, for their release did little to dampen their intense lust. The boys' cocks did not even soften more than just a small bit before returning swiftly to rock-hard erections, pulsing lightly and aching again with the renewed need for relief.

Into the girls' mouths they went, both Heather and Melinda licking and sucking in ways far more skilled and frenzied than they ever had before with the others controlling them. Both girls moaned in desperation for their own relief, each thrusting a hand between her thighs and massaging her slot with fast, firm strokes. When the boys' cocks burst into orgasm inside their mouths, they lapped up the seed as if starving. After the boys were spent, the girls kissed each other deeply and tasted of each other's mouth before finally swallowing.

From this point on, any further sense of order broke down. Pairings happened apparently at random, and there was little pause before the next. The sounds of sex became a constant drone of deep, urgent moans and shrill, needful cries. Pairings became threesomes, and finally, a complete, mindless orgy. Heather on her back, Jason on all fours with his cock plunged into her mouth, Melinda licking Heather's pussy, Richie spearing Melinda from behind with his cock.

After this, when all four had again expended themselves, they each fell limp onto their backs or sides among the cushions. They panted hard, bodies covered in a sheen of perspiration. Each one of them ached from the intensity of the sexual activity, yet still craved more.

However, something else was happening. Very slowly, the control over them was eased. It did not lift away entirely. It remained in a twilight between the light of their own consciousness and the darkness of enslavement that remained hovering over them, like a false dawn before a morning sunrise that was not to be.

Moans of lingering sexual release turned to groans of despair. Melinda turned her head into one of the cushions as tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. Heather covered her eyes with a shaking hand. Richie clutched at his aching privates with a glazed look in his eyes. Jason kept murmuring under his breath, audible to no one but himself: "Please, Mara, stop... Mara, don't do this..."

Imagine having the control over you slip just a bit like this.

Melinda sobbed once, her hands clenching. Heather took a single, breath and let it go, her body quivering. The boys groaned, Richie shaking his head.

Which do you prefer, release or return to slavery?

"No more..." Heather murmured, unable to command her voice to rise above a whisper. "No more, please..."

Easy decision? It gets harder. Much harder.

"Stop it... stop..." Richie cried in anguish. His and the others' protests died as their mind were again plunged back into the darkness, swallowing up their will once more.

Now let's go again, my little slaves.

The lustful noises they made became strained and tinged with desperation and torment, as if even while their wills were completely enslaved, some part of their true mind state was managing to break through. Or it could simply be the house playing a cruel game with their minds. It was impossible for them to tell.

Their activities grew more frantic. Jason and then Richie in turn fucked Heather between her breasts, cumming hard and copiously between them. Melinda came to her and lapped it up, then suckled at Heather's breasts as her behind was spanked by both Jason and Richie. Then Melinda had to hump Richie while at the same time sucking off Jason, while Heather straddled Richie and made him lick her pussy.

It devolved quickly into one continuous orgy of sex and fetish. At one point, both girls were spanking the boys. At another point, the boys were licking the girls' feet. The sex grew increasingly messy, girls spotted with cum, the boys wet with pussy fluids. Finally, their bodies could no longer keep up with the demand. Muscles ached as badly as genitalia, movements grew labored and painful. At last their mistress relented, and they collapsed onto their backs, groaning and limp.

The twilight cruelly returned.

"No, please, oh God no!" Melinda sobbed, her body shaking. Tears flowed down her face.

Release or enslave again?

"I d-don't want to do that again..." Richie said in a badly shaking voice.

"Mara..." Jason groaned in desperation. "Please stop..."

Heather let out a wail and turned over, crying hard into a cushion.

Tougher choice now, isn't it?

"Not again, please not again," Melinda begged. "D-don't... don't make me do that again..."

Don't want to remember it, do you?

Melinda curled up and whimpered pitifully.

That was a taste of the worst of it. Just a taste. Oh, but surely, you could do better.

The four of them slowly quieted.

You'd never go that far, of course. Not if you had the power.

No sound other than labored, heavy breathing.

It's time for us to find out.

The control returned so swiftly that each of them jerked. But this time, when they rose painfully from the cushions, the lust was absent from them. Their expressions were chillingly blank, as if they had been made to cease to care about anything. Without a word or a sound, they reached under various cushions, directed unerringly to the items that they simply knew would be there. In fact, they knew exactly what the items were, and what they were to do with them. No matter how their imprisoned consciousness screamed and shouted, it did nothing to stop their bodies from carrying out the motions.

Each of them soon held two pairs of bright, gleaming metal handcuffs, one with a short chain, the other with a longer one. There was no hesitation or forethought, no glimmer of doubt on their faces, save for the tiniest glint of fear deep in their eyes. They each knelt on a cushion, forming a straight line side-by-side to each other. They reached behind them and secured the short-chained handcuffs tightly around their ankles. They then threaded the longer one between their ankles and around the chain and closed the cuffs around their wrists.

They were swiftly released from enslavement.

No one cried out. Tears flowed down Melinda's face and trickled from Heather's eyes. Richie heaved dry sobs, and Jason's face was screwed up in anguish. But no overt noises were made, for all four of them were far too frightened to utter anything more than a piteous whimper, or even to pull at their self-imposed bondage.

And now, my little slaves, it is time for you "to meet your mistress in person."

Nothing that had happened to them that day filled them with as much terror as hearing the ethereal voice of the house materialize into a real, breathing, living person. Or living, at least, as far as their meager senses could discern. They knew it -- or rather, she -- was standing in the doorway, but it was a long time before any of them dared to turn their heads towards her, as if desiring to remain in ignorance as long as possible.

Jason was the first to dare, and he swallowed as his gaze rose to the woman's face. Despite knowing who it was already -- or perhaps because of it -- a chill visibly rippled through his body and his mouth opened as if in surprise or awe.

She was exactly as she looked in the portrait on the wall in the living room. Creamy skin, raven tresses flowing in waves around her roundish face, eyes of deep violet, intense and fiery. At the same time, however, there was a sense of tiredness, a hint of exhaustion, as if everything that had happened was as taxing to her as it was to the four teens.

Her body was clad in a simple, white nightgown, reaching only just past her hips, her body naked underneath it. She placed her hands on her hips and strode slowly into the room as one by one the others looked towards her, greeting her with equal measures of fear and anger. Her feet kicked casually at the cushions, forming a path to bare hardwood as she walked.

"Please let us go," Melinda begged in a small voice. "P-please..."

Mara paused and cast a cold smile down at her. "And miss the opportunity of your lifetime?" she said a husky voice and predatory gaze that made Melinda shiver. She shifted her eyes to the others. "Surely none of you want to pass it up either? Not when you are so close to having it all!"

Jason stared at Mara. He tried to imagine this woman when she was still alive, when she was just a plaything of this Loner character. Surely she would not have looked as confident and intimidating as she did now.

As if sensing what he was thinking, Mara's gaze shifted abruptly to him and narrowed. One corner of her mouth rose, twisting her lips into a sadistic smirk. "Don't think you know me, Jason," she said darkly. "Don't think you know what I'm capable of."

Jason simply stared, his gaze unrelenting.

"Yes, I know what you know. Or what you think you know."

"J-Jason, what's she talking about?" Heather demanded in a quavering voice. She pulled in vain at her restraints.

Richie looked to Jason as well, but he was too frightened to speak. Yet his eyes spoke volumes. They begged for Jason to solve everything. It was just like Richie had when he had been close to failing that course in school. Jason had rescued him then; now he wanted to be rescued again.

Melinda cried harder and shook violently. She could not even bring herself to raise her eyes to Jason. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I sh-should have stopped... I shouldn't have l-let you talk to me..."

Mara dropped to one knee and grasped Melinda's chin. She yanked Melinda's head up to force the girl's gaze to hers. Melinda's eyes shimmered with terror. "And you think that would have mattered? You think you would have listened? That you would have stopped? I sincerely doubt it."

Melinda sobbed and jerked her head away.

Mara rose to her feet. "None of you were going to stop. You all wanted it. You all wanted the power to yourself, every last one of you!"

"Only because you offered it to us!" Jason blurted loudly.

Mara grinned wickedly. "And did I force you to take it?"

Jason remained silent, staring at Mara, his sympathy for her having evaporated into cold hatred.

"You lied to us!" Heather screamed. "You... you promised me I'd have it!"

"You promised it to me, too!" Richie cried.

"And did I force you to listen to me?" Mara said smoothly. "Did I force you to believe me? No, you did that yourself. You put your faith in me, and in the promise of power."

Heather whimpered and looked away. Richie just stared, his lower lip trembling.

"And did I force you to use it on your parents, Jason?" Mara continued in a sultry voice. "Did I force you to use it on your boyfriend, Heather? Or on your mother, Richie? Melinda?"

"I don't want it anymore!" Heather wailed, shaking her head violently as tears streamed from her eyes. "I don't want it!"

"Oh, yes, you do! Don't lie! All of you want it! Because the alternative is worse. If none of you take it, then I'll take it."

"Wh-what?" Richie croaked, his eyes wild with fear.

Melinda raised her head and stared fearfully at Mara.

"I am going to offer it to you each in turn," Mara said, pacing back and forth before the four of them. "If you want it, I will bestow it upon you. The other three will be your slaves, for you to do as you will it. You will be able to use the power on whoever else you want, whenever you want, to whatever ends you want, for the rest of your natural life.