Chapter 7

Heather sighed softly as she looked down at the books spread out before her as she lay on her stomach on the bed. She tossed down the pen and propped up her head with her hands, staring morosely at the pages of her textbook. Behind her, she lazily lifted a bare foot into the air and let it come down with a thump against her pillow.

She turned her head. Melinda sat on the other bed, a paperback fantasy novel in her hands, her eyes tracking quickly back and forth across the pages. The book was very well-read. The back cover had long since fallen off and the spine was cracked.

Heather knew which one it was right away. It was the one that Melinda always read when she was upset. She only recently confided in her older sister that it was because this particular novel had the fantasy world she'd most likely want to live in instead of reality.

Even as Melinda read, her face still remained as sullen as it had through the whole bus trip home.

Heather gave up trying to concentrate on her homework and jumped out of bed. "Hey."

Melinda didn't even acknowledge her sister and kept reading.

"I was going downstairs for a soda. Want anything?"

Melinda shook her head quickly.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded.

Heather rolled her eyes. "Are you ever going to talk to me again?"

Melinda shook her head violently.

Heather put her hands on her hips and gave her little sister an exasperated look. When this received no response, she reached forward and plucked the book from Melinda's hands.

"Give that back!"

Heather winced. "Well, at least that got you to talk. Or scream at the top of your lungs, anyway."

Melinda folded her arms and shot Heather a venomous look. "So reading books is not okay anymore either. I guess I'm not supposed to have any fun anymore, huh?"

"Melinda..."

"Just because you don't have a boyfriend to boink doesn't mean you should stop me from doing it!"

"Melinda!" Heather cried. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "This is not about trying to stop you from being with Jason, okay?"

"Not that he wanted to be with me anyway. He'd rather sit in front of a computer than fool around with me!"

Heather gave her sister an odd look and smirked. "Okay, now just who are you mad at, him or me?"

"Him! You! Both of you! How the hell should I know?!"

In the silence that followed, Melinda sniffled once.

Heather sighed. "C'mon, let's go downstairs. I think we need to talk."

"I don't want to talk about anything."

"Melinda, please. I'm... I'm trying to be nice to you. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

Melinda snorted. "Yeah, when there's something in it for you."

"Yeah, you're right."

"Huh? I am?"

"I was going to ask you for love advice and then use it to steal your boyfriend."

Melinda stared wide-eyed at her sister, her mouth dropping open. The next moment, her astonishment and indignation turned to amusement, and she dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Heather smirked and stood up, tossing the book aside.

"Oh, way to lose my place, bubblehead," Melinda snapped.

"Like you haven't already read it five zillion times and can quote it from memory, runt," Heather retorted.

The both of them giggled briefly. Melinda bolted out of bed. "All right, fine, I'll have a stupid soda with my bossy big sister."

Heather gave Melinda a weak smile. She had to resist the urge to place an arm around Melinda's shoulders as she passed, or try to take her hand. Heather was not sure what her own reaction to the physical contact would be. Already she had to refrain from looking at Melinda's back as they walked down the stairs. She was afraid of where her eyes might drift.

"Here, I'll get them," Heather said, quickly racing ahead of her sister when they entered the kitchen.

Melinda fell heavily into a chair. She swept her gaze around the room with a sad look in her eyes. "This used to be my favorite room, Heather."

Heather turned from the refrigerator, closing it with a kick before heading over to the table. "Your favorite room?" she asked curiously. She slid a Dr. Pepper across the table to Melinda and popped the top on her Pepsi.

"Yeah, I know, you think it sounds stupid. More dumb stuff from the baby sister," Melinda said acidly.

"Hey, no, I wasn't thinking that, okay? Really."

Melinda gave Heather a suspicious look as she drank her soda.

Heather sighed. "Look, Melinda... you must've noticed I've been trying to be nicer towards you. Most of the time, I mean."

"Yeah, I guess..."

"I mean, I don't call you 'Mel' anymore. I let you have your half of the room."

"You still call me 'runt'."

"And you still call me 'bubblehead'. So we're even. Now... what's this about the kitchen?"

Melinda leaned back in her seat, setting the can down heavily. "I use to like coming in here when I... well, when I needed to get away from you. And Mom was always here."

"I thought you didn't get along with her. Even before all this started."

"The kitchen was always different, see? I mean, I don't know why, but she didn't hassle me in here, unless you barged in to complain about me."

"Oh, yeah... sorry," Heather said sheepishly.

Melinda just shrugged. "Now I can't do it anymore," she said morosely. "Not... not with Mom like this..."

"Yeah... I know..."

Melinda raised her eyes. They were glistening. "Heather, what... what the hell are we going to do??"

Heather gave Melinda a stricken look. This was the first time she could remember since they became teens that Melinda ever looked to her to have all the answers, to be a protector. She didn't feel she was at all up to the task. She had no answers to give, and she felt as if she wanted someone to protect her instead.

But she couldn't tell Melinda this. Not with the way Melinda's eyes were shimmering and her lower lip was quivering.

Heather stood up and came around the table. Melinda stared as Heather crouched next to her chair. "Look, Melinda," Heather said in a soft voice. "I promise you that we'll try to figure it out."

"What's Mom doing over at that Inn, Heather?" Melinda demanded. "What is it that's so bad that she... she has the..."

"I don't know yet. But I intend to find out. We'll find out. We'll get Jason and Richie to help."

Melinda snorted. "Good luck with Richie. I'm sorry, Heather, but he's turning into a real asshole. You know what I heard? He made poor Cassie Kendall cry her eyes out!"

"Yeah, I heard. I know. All right, maybe not him. But you trust Jason, don't you? Even when you're mad at him?"

Melinda nodded slowly. She wiped a single tear from her face. "Well... I'm not that mad at him..."

Heather managed a small smile. This was a first. Melinda never look so vulnerable.

"I just... I just want things back to normal. Or..."

"Or... what?"

Melinda hesitated a long moment, her face taking on a dark look. "Or bring the House back," she said very softly. "Things were so easy with the House. I could get everything I wanted. Shit. We could've made it work. If everyone would've just took their turn fairly, we..."

Heather shook her head. "You saw what happened."

"All because Richie... !"

"No, Melinda. Yeah, he started it, but we all acted bad."

Melinda looked sullen for a moment, but subsided. "Then I wish it never happened."

"Yeah, join the club. Look, we'll figure out what's up with Mom, okay? I promise we will."

Melinda looked at Heather, eyes blurring with tears. She suddenly leapt out of her chair. A surprised Heather straightened, and then uttered an even more astonished gasp when Melinda threw her arms around Heather and hugged her tightly.

"Just... j-just promise you w-won't go back to the way you were... before the House..."

Heather swallowed. She felt a flash of heat over her skin as Melinda pressed against her body. Tentatively, she slid an arm around her sister. She drew in her breath quickly as she felt a tiny shudder go through her, and the heat grow more intense.

"I promise, Melinda," Heather said in a shaky and slightly husky voice.

Melinda hugged her sister more tightly. Heather bit her lip. She felt Melinda's soft, round breasts pressing into hers. The nipples of Heather's own breasts quickly grew taut. Melinda shifted position, brushing the raised knob of one of them through her shirt and bra. Heather felt a tiny ripple of pleasure from the fleeting touch.

Heather tried to keep her breathing steady, her arm tightening around her sister, her hand quivering with the desire to drop down to Melinda's ass. Mercifully, Melinda broke off the embrace first. She smiled up at her big sister.

"Feeling a little better?" Heather said, her own voice still shaky.

If Melinda noticed this, she did not show it. She just nodded and wiped at one eye. "I'm fine. Thanks."

"Here, you go on back upstairs. I, uh, need to use the bathroom first."

Melinda nodded. She grabbed the rest of her soda and smiled again at Heather before dashing off towards the stairs. Heather heard a thumping noise as Melinda took them two at a time.

Heather closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm herself. Her feet slid apart slightly, her pussy aching and wet. Oh my God, this is so wrong, she lamented, covering her face with her hands for a moment.

Heather had held out some vain hope that once the House was destroyed, she would return to normal. Instead, she simply got better at controlling her own thoughts and feelings. Coming into close contact, however, had unraveled it all in seconds. She felt like she was back to square one.

She quickly headed for the downstairs bathroom. By the time she got there, she was already panting, and just the movements of her thighs had made her rise halfway to orgasm.

Richie's mood went from dark to positively black when he got home and saw that his mother was nowhere to be found.

He had retreated to his room at this point, throwing his backpack angrily into a corner of his room. This knocked over a box that subsequently spilled its cargo of comic books onto the floor. He uttered a vile curse and began picking them up. Less than a minute into this he hurled the comics back to the floor and gave the side of the box a kick, crushing it on one side. He flopped down hard on his bed.

"Shit," he said to no one in particular.

Only the second day of the semester and already it was going downhill. Jason had refused to say a word to him at lunch. Richie didn't even try on the bus, for Jason and Frank had immediately sat together and started yammering away. Then Melinda had given him a look as if he were something disgusting she had just scraped from the bottom of her shoe.

Yeah, she heard about me an' Cassie all right, he thought.

He turned over on the bed and stared in the direction of his computer.

He contemplated IM'ing Jason. As loathe as he was to admit it out loud, he didn't want to loose his friendship with the geek. And not just for what Jason could do for him academically.

He decided against it. Nope, fucked that up for good, he thought with a sigh as he rolled onto his back.

Richie hardly thought it was fair. It had happened months ago. It was done and over with in his mind. For him, if it happened a week ago, it was not worth getting worked up about anymore. So he stole some notes from Cassie for a report. Big deal. Not like it's the first time someone's done something like that. But leave it to Cassie to make a big stink over it now!

Richie grabbed a baseball from his headboard and began lazily tossing it in the air just as he heard the door open downstairs.

"About friggin' time," he muttered darkly.

"Richie?"

"In my room, Mom!" Richie called out.

There was a pause, and then the sound of her mother climbing the stairs.

Richie tossed the ball a few more times before snatching it out of the air in mid-arc and sitting up as Sandra appeared in the doorway. "Hey, I called to you in the hall at school when you got through with Bendon. Dincha hear me?"

Sandra took a breath before responding. "Yes, I heard you, Richie," she said in a somber voice. "I... had something else on my mind."

"Yeah, so I heard. Huh. Don't look drunk. And I don't smell no cigs on you. Must've been the third option."

"Shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you," Sandra snapped.

"Hey, whoa, fine. Didn't say there was anything wrong with it, 'kay? You celebrate your little victory over Bendon any way you want. If that means gettin' horizontal with someone, fine."

Sandra shifted her weight slightly. Her pussy was still a little sore from the activity earlier. She had indeed gone for the "third option." Several hours of intense sex was what it took to burn off her arousal. She swallowed and shivered slightly at the memory of her confrontation with Haven again.

Richie looked askance at her. "You all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Sandra said curtly. She checked herself, paused, and then repeated in a more contrite voice, "I'm doing fine, Richie. As fine as I can be."

"Um, okay. So... care to share?"

"Share what?"

Richie smirked. "The details of the fight. Leave any blood on the floor? Did you make her cry like last year?"

"I didn't make her cry last year, Richie," Sandra declared. "Close, but no."

"Okay, fine. Did you get any closer this year?"

Sandra swallowed and took a deep breath. "Richie... about... about that..."

Richie gave her a wary look. When his mother spoke again, he saw the aura surging back.

"I had a talk with your principal about... about this medical program, and... well..."

"Mom, you did stop it, right? I don't have to have that nurse examine me? Right?"

Sandra's legs quivered. Oh God, not again, not after all that, she thought desperately as the fire burned anew.

"I told her what I thought. I said I didn't... didn't want her imposing this on you."

Richie's eyes widened. The black was swirling around Sandra like a swarm of angry bees.

"And then, she told me... she told me that the school was rather e-excited about it."

Richie swallowed. The darkness swept around his mother's body. There was more of it than he ever remembered seeing on her. It was more distinct, and clung to her body, as if caressing her. Tendrils appeared to gather in her nether regions.

"Very excited in fact. Bendon was quite... quite pleased with it..."

Sandra had to pause. Her pussy ran liquid and hot again. The soreness was now mixed with a more powerful ache for release. But she knew she could not have her reward, not just yet.

"Mom, what the fuck are you talking about?" Richie said anxiously, his voice cracking. "You said you didn't... !"

"Don't talk back to me!" Sandra shouted suddenly, making Richie flinch. The intense, growing lust inside her was driving her, making her body tremble and her words harsh. "Start showing your mother a little respect."

"I will when she starts doing something right!"

Sandra closed her eyes tightly for a moment. Her fingers curled where they held the door frame. "I'm trying to do something right, Richie, if you would give me a chance! I'm trying to tell you... this medical program... it's... it's o-okay."

"What?!"

Sandra's cunt throbbed dully. A trickle of moisture tickled the inside her her thigh, escaping from under her soaked panties. When she spoke again, her voice had a sultry edge to it. "I was wrong about it. Completely wrong. It's the best thing to happen to the school." The words flowed out her mouth now as fluid as water and as sweet as honey. Each word sent little jolts of pleasure through her body. She could no longer fight it anymore.

Yes, she was being rewarded very well for her obedience.

And all the while, the inky blackness swelled and slithered around her body, as if a giant snake were coiling around her. Richie stared, his mouth dropping open.

"When they call your name for it, Richie, don't give them any trouble," Sandra said. Her lips curled into a tiny smile that chilled Richie to the bone. "Just submit to it. Let the nurse examine you. It will be all right."

Sandra's nipples were hard. She panted lightly, her pussy rising in pleasure, straining for release.

"I don't want to do it, Mom," Richie said in a lower but still bitterly defiant voice. "I'll let myself get expelled before that!"

Sandra took another deep breath. "You won't do that."

"Yes, I will!"

"We'll discuss this another time," Sandra said curtly. "When you're not in such a pissy mood."

Before Richie could respond, Sandra turned away and quickly disappeared into her bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. A few faint wisps of horrible inky black persisted for a moment, then curled in the air and followed their mistress.

For a moment, Richie could not move or think. The room was completely silent. Then, faintly, through the wall between his bedroom and his mother's, he heard low, urgent moans.

He collapsed onto his bed, shaking. He felt momentarily sick to his stomach and clutched at his gut until it passed. He shuddered when his mother's orgasmic cries came to him even louder.

Richie stumbled over to the computer and turned it on, then waited for the relatively ancient thing to boot up.

"C'mon, you fucking piece of shit," Richie muttered under his breath. "Come on!"

"Man, I know I saw that thing around here somewhere," said Jason, scratching his head as he stared at the electronic detritus at the bottom of his closet. "Give me another minute."

Frank just shrugged from where he sat in front of Jason's computer, idly kicking at the base of his seat, sending himself turning one way and then the other, over and over. At this point, he didn't care if Jason couldn't find the bridge. He was simply glad to be out of the house.

Actually, so was his stepsister. Mindy had invited one of her friends from college over and didn't want "the toad" hanging around. It was just as well; the last thing he wanted to do was stay in the house with two giggling bimbos, no matter how attractive they might be.