Chapter 46

"Harry, turn around!"

Cassie's driver flinched. "I'm sorry, Miss Kendall?"

"Turn around and head back into Haven."

"We are almost at the bridge, Miss Kendall."

"I don't care. I ... I forgot something. Something I need to see Melinda about. Take me back to the Sovert residence."

"But I need to get you back to the mansion in time for the luncheon," Harry said. "Your parents will be terribly disappointed if you--"

"I don't care." Cassie tried to adopt the same haughty tone she often heard her mother use with the serving staff, despite how much it grated on her. "You are not paid such a good salary to disobey orders and tell me what I am to do or not do. You will do as I say at once."

Cassie wanted to follow up her tirade with an apology. Harry let out a windy sigh and slowed the limo. He signaled for a turn and drove into the gravel along the side of the road. "Very well, Miss Kendall. But I do this under protest, and I will report this to your parents."

"Do what you have to, Harry, so long as you take me where I want to go."

Cassie settled back into her seat as Harry struggled with maneuvering the limo through the U-turn on the narrow two-lane blacktop. She wished she had time to pick up Ned. Despite her lingering anger towards him, she could have used his comfort.

And, perhaps, his muscle as well.

Richie fell into lock-step with Melinda as soon as she was out of sight of the Sovert home, bursting from the wooded area by the side of the road and startling her. He did not see the Aura until he was walking next to her. "Your mother fuck with you?" were the first words out of his mouth.

"What gave you your first clue?" Melinda muttered in a weak voice.

"So where are you going?"

"To the store," Melinda said. She let out a soft, husky sigh as her pussy throbbed. She quickened her pace.

"Hey, wait, what's the hurry?"

"I-I just have to get there fast."

"Shit, she making you do this?"

Melinda stopped and spun towards him. At once she strained at the edge of orgasm. Her thighs trembled, her pussy hot and aching. She bit her lip to suppress a whimper. "You th-think I'd go do this myself?" she cried in a quavering voice.

"How's she makin' you do it?" Richie demanded. "I mean, you can still talk about it like--"

"Do you have to have all the disgusting little details? Do you ... ohmigod, Richie, please, I-I have to keep going." She started down the street again and moaned despite her attempt to suppress it. Her low, rolling orgasm returned, the pleasure washing away any thoughts of further resistance to her mother's wishes.

Richie stared for a few seconds before rushing to catch up. "Fuck, did you just cum?"

Melinda blushed. "I s-still am. It stops if I stop."

"You can't just ignore it?"

"I already tried," she said in a tiny voice. "I-I just strain and strain and can't go over and it drives me nuts."

"Oh, yeah, I was wondering why you kept startin' and stoppin' like that when I first saw you come out of your house."

"It gets harder to even want to stop." Melinda wiped her eyes and sniffled once.

Richie frowned. "Shit. I'm sorry, Melinda, but your mother's a fucking bitch for doing that to you."

Melinda didn't reply. His words were no darker than her own thoughts. She wished she could ignore it. When she was younger and still experimenting with masturbation, she could tense her muscles enough to prevent her from cresting. Allowing herself to cum was a relief, but not an all-consuming need.

She finally had to accept that Haven had changed her. Sex had become more than simply a pleasurable pursuit. She could no longer pretend that it was happening to the others and not her.

Richie looked around as they continued down Green Avenue. "All right, I got your back. Anyone that wants to fuck with you will have to fuck with me first. And I ain't in the mood to be fucked with."

Richie thrust a hand into the pocket of his jacket and curled his fingers around the baseball. He knew he could count on himself when he had that in his hand. He had used it once to hit a box that floated in mid air. He was sure he could hit an equally sized target closer to the ground.

Like someone's head.

"What the fuck is with ya, huh?"

Ned rolled his eyes and looked towards his father. "What did I do now?"

"The rich bitch ain't good 'nuf for ya? Now ya got some Jap chick droolin' over ya?"

Ned frowned and put down his magazine. He swung his legs over the bed. "What are ya talkin' ... Wait, ya don't mean Diane?"

His father scratched his beer gut. "Dunno her name, jus' know I'm tryin' ta watch the fuckin' game. She's at the door."

Ned sighed and bolted from his bed. "First off, she's not even remotely Japanese, so I don't even know why the hell ya think she is, 'less it's jus' cuz she's dark-haired, slim, and got dark eyes."

"Look, I dunno, 'kay? I call 'em as I see 'em. Her eyes looked a bit chinked-up an'--"

"And second of all, terms like 'jap' and 'chink' went out with bell-bottoms. Get with the fuckin' program, Dad." Ned pushed past his father and bounded down the stairs.

"Guess it went out with stupid kids payin' respect to their parents, too!" his father bellowed.

Do something worthy of respect and I'll show you some, Ned thought. He came close to saying it, mouthing the first few words as he rushed for the front door, passing by the TV set that blared a football game at full volume. Ned opened the front door just enough to let his slim frame slip outside and pulled it shut behind him.

Diane fell back a step. "I'm sorry, did I come at a bad time, Master?"

Ned waved a hand. "Ixnay on the astermay around here, 'kay?" He grabbed her hand and steered her down the walk and towards the street. "I know why yer here. I felt it, too."

"It was Melinda, wasn't it?" Diane said.

"Yeah. Damn. Wish I could get over there."

"What about Cassie? Could she come get us?"

Ned shook his head. "If Cassie's got an ounce o' sense, she'd be high-tailin' it over there an' won't waste time pickin' us up."

Diane's eyes pleaded. "Then what do we do? We have to do something. Please, Master, order me to do something to help."

Ned grinned. "Well, there's a few things I'd love ta order ya to do. An' it'll sure as hell give Melinda some power."

Diane smiled and nodded, stepping close to him. "I'll do whatever you want, Master. Do you want to fuck me again?"

Ned felt his cock stir and smirked. "Loaded question fer sure. But, alas, there be no place to do it."

"What about the others? Have you talked to them yet?"

"I think I got through ta Cassie. That jus' leaves Jason and Richie."

"I really want to be their slave, Master," Diane said in a husky voice. "I'm almost always wet now because I can't stop thinking about it."

"I'm hopin' that if something goes down with Melinda, the others can stop it," said Ned. "Then we can all do it this afternoon at the meeting house an' stop Victor from doin' this shit again ta us."

Jason skidded to a stop on his bicycle at the intersection near the Sovert home. He glanced to the north towards the house and contemplated ringing the bell, but he assumed he was still persona non grata by Penny Sovert's edict. He doubted she would yield any useful information or allow him to speak with Heather.

Jason looked to the south and stared. What the hell... ?

He narrowed his eyes and peered. A thin, wispy tendril of black hung suspended in the air, like a single strand of spider silk undulating in the breeze. It stretched south down Green Avenue, following the edge of the road.

He closed his eyes and still saw it: an energy pattern overlaid on his vision. With his eyes closed he could see a faint pattern reminiscent of what he remembered from Penny's Aura.

He opened his eyes. It remained superimposed on his view. He turned his bike south and pedaled fast.

Richie's eyes darted, his muscles tensed, as they walked down Columbine. He recognized the street. A park lay a few blocks ahead where he sometimes played ball during the summer. It was just a typical, sleepy little street that wound through the Hillcrest subdivision.

"Where the hell is this store, anyway?" Richie said.

"It's where this street crosses Franklin," Melinda said, her walk now quickened to a trot.

"Fuck, we could've got at it from the other direction."

"Mom said to come this way."

Richie frowned. "Yeah, I bet she did." He grabbed her arm. "Slow down, dammit."

Melinda whimpered. She tried to pull her arm from his grip but his fingers tightened. "Richie, stop it, I have to--"

"Look, I know this is gonna be hard on you, 'kay, but I don't like how I can't see nothing down this fucking street 'cause of all the twists and turns."

Melinda panted. Her pussy strained and crested, gentle and wonderful pleasure teasing her for a few seconds before it stopped and strained again. She fought the urge to beg him to let go. "We're in the middle of a housing development, Richie!" Melinda finally exploded. "Who's going to do anything right in front of everyone?"

Richie looked around. Melinda's eyes widened, the shock of realization enough to allow her to stop walking.

The street was deserted. No kids played in their yards. No parents raked leaves. The neighborhood was silent and still as death. They heard not even a barking dog.

"What 'everyone?'" Richie said. "You see any 'everyone?'"

"Shit," Melinda said in a tiny voice. She let out a tremulous sigh. "Richie, I-I have to keep going."

Richie held her in place.

"Richie!" Melinda moaned. She clung to him, panting hard into his jacket. She rubbed the crotch of her jeans against his leg, but only strained harder at the edge. Whimpering, she thrust a hand under her jeans and panties and rubbed her pussy. Relief remained out of reach.

"Fuck," Richie muttered. "All right, all right, we'll go. Better than lettin' you frig yourself in front of God and country."

Melinda moaned and shuddered as she took her first steps, her orgasm flooding her pussy with throbbing heat. "Don't make me stop again," she moaned.

As Cassie's limo started north on Green Avenue, she tried to sort out her own thoughts from those of Melinda. She had intended to ease herself into Melinda's head, but it was impossible to perform such a connection halfway. She had slid into Melinda's head with the same effort as taking a breath.

She chafed her arms at the icy touch of the Darkness. Her pussy tingled in sympathy to Melinda's orgasmic cascade. She uttered a tiny sigh of relief at Richie's presence.

Cassie sensed that Melinda felt rushed, and that her sexual pleasure was tied to it. When she slowed or stopped, it held her at the cruel edge of climax. When she resumed, it rewarded her.

Cassie interrupted her contemplation when the car suddenly slowed down. She was still extricating herself from Melinda's thoughts as she craned her neck to see out the windshield. It was another limo.

"Harry, who's in front of us?" Cassie asked.

"Another limousine, apparently, Miss Kendall," said Harry.

"I know that! Do you recognize it?"

Harry considered. "It might belong to the Davenports."

Cassie shook her head. "The Davenports are still on their Caribbean cruise."

"Then perhaps Mr. Gerrison from the south. He sometimes cuts through Haven on his road trips. Or Mr. Remmer, perhaps, from Mesa View."

"Charles Remmer? Is he still in Haven?"

"As I understand it, yes, Miss Kendall."

"My father has not had any dealings with him in years. I thought he had retired."

"I am not privy to that, Miss Kendall."

Cassie paused. It had to be a coincidence. "Harry, you have a note pad and pen up there with you, don't you?"

"Well, yes, Miss Kendall, but--"

"Hand them back to me," Cassie said. "Then tell me the license plate number of that limo."

"Whatever for, Miss Kendall?"

"Never mind why, Harry, please, just do it."

Harry took a hand from the wheel and fished around for a minute, then held the pad and pen up behind him. Cassie took them and said, "Okay, now what is the plate number?"

Harry recited it.

"Thank you." Cassie looked up. "We're slowing down again."

"The limo in front of us is signaling for a left turn. I do not have room to go around him."

Cassie watched the limo turn and head down Columbine. It's brake lights glowed. She turned her head away when she could no longer see it. She suddenly frowned. Melinda wanted to keep rushing but now she wants to slow down?

She glimpsed a boy on a bicycle whiz by in the opposite direction on the other side of the street. Cassie gasped as she turned her head.

Jason?!

Columbine took a near right-angle turn to the north, then curved back west, forming a small pocket that was the remnant of a cul-de-sac that was cut through to extend the development. The neighborhood was dead silent, as if they were stragglers left after a mass evacuation.

Their steps slowed. Richie turned his head to one side and the other, eyes narrowed and suspicious. His muscles tensed until the fingers around the baseball ached. Something was not right, but he could not determine what.

You're slowing down.

Richie knew this. Why he felt the need to remind himself he was not sure. Melinda suddenly swayed and bumped into him. Richie looked at her. "You okay?"

Melinda stared at him in confusion. "Huh?"

"You all right?"

"Um, yeah, fine. Fine as I can be."

"Still cumming?"

Melinda frowned. "Why? So you can get off on it?"

"Do I look like I asked cuz I wanna get off?"

Melinda paused and shook her head.

You're both slowing down.

Richie frowned and wondered why he chose to state the obvious in his thoughts.

"Yes, I'm still c-cumming," Melinda replied in a low voice. "Just very gently."

Richie nodded. "Maybe that's why we're--"

You're not SUPPOSED to be slowing down, asshole!

Richie blinked. His teeth clenched as he grabbed Melinda's arm. "Come on."

Richie tried to sprint ahead. Melinda dragged as if her feet were leaden. "Wait, what are you doing?!"

"We're supposed to be moving! You said don't stop!"

"I know, but--"

"So why the fuck are you slowing down?"

Melinda paused, her thoughts slogging through her head as if crawling in molasses. "I ... it's ... I'm supposed to."

"Bullshit. Come on."

Richie yanked her arm, and Melinda stumbled into a run. "No, Richie, wait! Uhng ... I'm not cumming anymore, please, stop!"

Richie did stop. Melinda collided with him and moaned with relief as her pussy burst into orgasm, her thighs trembling as her hips jerked with the first few rewarding throbs. She raised her head and looked past Richie, her startled gasp lost in her panting pleasure.

Up ahead, at the end of the former cul-de-sac, stood three men and two women, leaning against the cars on either side of the street. All five faces beamed with friendship.

Richie's eyes darted between them. Of course they were friendly. That's all he should expect to find in this neighborhood. Just friendly people that mean them no harm. Now they stepped towards the two teens, intending only to make friends and assure them that they were safe and secure.

Bullshit, Richie thought.

Richie's feet became two lead blocks. The link glowed just past the miasma of false perception, and he seized it before it could retreat from his grasp. He found little power to be had, only a thin trickle delivered and pulled into his mind by sheer willpower. It allowed him to see the other link as a tangible force for the first time, the one that had sat on a boulder outside his house years after the divorce. Holding on to both, he pulled himself up from the pit of false normalcy created by the five people ahead.

He grabbed Melinda's arm, but before he could pull her back the way they came, a car engine rumbled up behind him. He whipped his head around in time to see a limo pull up. He greeted its appearance with relief until he realized that the car model was different from Cassie's.

The limo pulled into the false cul-de-sac and turned to block the road. A distinguished, balding man emerged, stepped forward, and waited.

Melinda did not move or speak, her eyes glazed and unfocused. She shuddered and leaned into Richie as her orgasm intensified. Hot pleasure geysered into her mind, along with the idea that she had to remain right where she was if she wanted to be safe and happy.

Richie felt the pressure increase again. He turned his gaze back to the five. They advanced, all smiles and pleasantness. Slowly, Richie smiled in return.

Heather burst out of her room and took the stairs two at a time, grabbing the banister when her foot missed a step. She thudded to the bottom of the stairs and ran for the front door.

"Heather!" came a shout from behind her.

She raced ahead. Footsteps caught up with her, and when she started to open the door, a hand fell against it and slammed it shut.

Heather whirled around and cast a furious look at her mother. She opened her mouth to protest, but it came out as a startled gasp instead. She had just glimpsed the inky black tendrils of her mother's Aura wrapping themselves around her before her pussy rose and hung at the edge of ecstasy. She moaned and struggled to push it back, but all her energy had been given to Melinda and Richie. She fell back against the door, her hands clenching into fists.

"Think about obeying me by staying home," said Penny.

"Unggh!" Heather's pussy gushed into her panties, and she slid to the floor. The chill of the Darkness lodged her mother's words in her head like large icicles.

"Obey me, Heather. Obey your mother like a good girl."

Heather's orgasm became a single rolling climax, a sweet, blissful paroxysm of pleasure that spread comforting warmth through her body. Her hands tried to clench once more, but trembled at her sides instead as a dark, wet stain spread over the crotch of her jeans.

Penny swallowed hard, and her voice was shaky. "You made me do this, Heather. I didn't want to. You just have to let it happen. Your sister will be all right."

Heather forced herself to take several deep breaths, as much as her body wanted to keep her panting in desire. She sought the link in her head and groped for it through the thick, cloying fog of induced lust.

"That's it, Heather," Penny said as she crouched by her daughter. "Just accept it for now. This is easier on all of us."