Chapter 48

Jason entered a house of brooding silence. His father worked in the back yard while his mother sulked in the sewing room. A bare nod of her head was the only acknowledgement she offered when he told her that he was back only long enough to check if he had received an email from a friend.

Jason walked to his room at a sedate pace to avoid giving his mother a reason for complaint. He closed the door to his room and fetched the Book. The pendant under his shirt grew warm against his chest.

You're making the right decision.

Jason was not sure if it were his own thought or that of the Book. He opened the window and looked down. From the front yard, Richie looked up and pantomimed holding a baseball mitt open above his head as if about to catch a fly ball.

Jason hesitated another moment, then chucked the Book out the window. In his fantasy, the Book would vanish into thin air. Instead, he heard a hard noise at the end of its descent. Jason ducked his head out the window and saw Richie with the Book tucked under one arm. Richie gave a thumbs-up with his free hand.

Jason dashed out of the house. Richie had walked away towards the intersection, where Heather awaited them beside the bikes.

"You got it," Heather said with relief.

"Yes, but I'm not sure it will work," Jason said.

Richie frowned. "Huh? Now what?"

"I remembered reading that the spell required everyone who was linked to participate in order to tap into the power. With Melinda--" Jason's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. "With Melinda absent, we might have a problem."

"We have to do something! Even if it gives her just a little power from the sex. She's never going to hold out against that cult if we don't."

"Cult?"

"Yes, cult. I saw it in my last vision, and I can see it now through the link. Everyone's dressed in robes and chanting."

"Can you hear what they're saying?"

"I don't understand it, it's not English." Heather shivered. "It sounds a lot like the language used for the incantations in the Book."

Jason could have kicked himself. He had seen patterns in the syllables used in the spells and had meant to work out the grammar rules, but never had the time.

"They're having some sort of effect on her," Heather said.

"How the hell can they do shit if we don't know what the fuck they mean?" Richie said.

"It doesn't matter what the words actually mean," Jason said. "They can make her believe that they're doing something. It's not that hard with that sort of power. We all associate weird, arcane-sounding chants with magic and the supernatural. We're already predisposed to expect something to happen. Maybe the spells in the Book rely on the same mechanism.

"Well, what are we waiting around here for, Einstein?" said Richie, mounting his bike. "Let's fucking go already."

"Kethr'quixla nox'thrissa orgos ron'yenqua."

Melinda pulled at her restraints, muscles cording on her arms and legs, but the ropes allowed no slack. She panted hard, her heart pounding from fear as much as her pussy oozed with lust.

"Kethr'quixla nox'thrissa orgos ron'yenqua."

Melinda whimpered. Her hips squirmed. Her toes curled as she fought the ropes once more to draw her legs closed in the vain hope that rubbing her thighs together would relieve the terrible ache. Her legs remained splayed and her pussy helpless.

"Kethr'quixla nox'thrissa orgos ron'yenqua."

Melinda squeezed her eyes shut. The words were nonsense. She couldn't parse them into anything remotely resembling something she knew. Yet their meaning was not lost on her. Each recitation injected more raw desire into her body; her pussy became wetter and hotter; her lust consumed more of her mind; thoughts became more difficult to form.

"Kethr'quixla nox'thrissa orgos ron'yenqua."

And her fear mounted until she was shaking.

That emotion was entirely her own, but her captors did nothing to quell it. Melinda wanted to scream at them that this was not how it was supposed to work. They were supposed to fill her with sexual need to the exclusion of all else.

They were not supposed to tie her up, either. She saw only the heightening of her fear as their motivation, as if they intended to frighten her as much as they intended to fuck her.

"Kethr'quixla nox'thrissa orgos ron'yenqua."

Melinda moaned. She wanted something in her pussy. A finger, a tongue, a cock, anything that would take away the ache. Her wetness trickled down her slit and spotted the sheet under her.

She understood now. They wanted total submission. They wanted her to plead for her own enslavement. That's really what the words meant: submit, become one, obey.

"Kethr'quixla nox'thrissa orgos ron'yenqua."

The words almost bubbled out of her mouth. Finger her. Fuck her. Do anything to her, as long as they touched her pussy. She held them back, but the cultists had sensed her faltering will. Two stepped forward, one on each side, and crawled towards her on the bed. Their fingers played with her breasts, and their tongues flicked at her hard nipples.

"G-God..." Melinda groaned in a strangled voice. She clenched her teeth. "N-No..."

"Kethr'quixla nox'thrissa orgos ron'yenqua."

Sheer stubbornness fueled her resistance where willpower had failed, relying on her instinctual need for defiance. She imagined herself holding out against Heather, and how satisfying it felt to thwart her big sister. Most of the time she gave in because she desired the sexual contact herself. Only now did Melinda admit to herself that she enjoyed her sexual trysts with Heather. She used them as a means to maintain a connection with her sister, as she felt it was the only thing in common between them.

Melinda finally understood not just how petty and annoying others found her behavior, but why she did it. She believed that acting like a brat was her only source of power against the Darkness. Without it, she was afraid she would cave in just to avoid a fight that frightened her more than she cared to admit.

"Kethr'quixla nox'thrissa orgos ron'yenqua."

The words felt lighter. She could hold out a little longer. But if someone did not come to her rescue soon, she was going to lose herself to them. She had no idea whether it would be temporary or permanent. Not knowing terrified her.

Gina clutched the pillow, her eyes closed. Short pants and gasps escaped her parted lips in the same rhythm that her ass slapped against Brad's body. Each thrust sunk deep into her wet pussy, each stroke as good as the last, this round of sex as pleasurable as his tongue had been inside her pussy a short while ago.

Gina wondered why Victor had never tried it this way with her.

Brad moaned, his balls aching from the number of times he had cum. He had never done the rounds three times before. He glanced down at her high heels and grinned. He loved seeing her in those. He didn't have to tell her to leave them on. She left them on simply because he had not told her to take them off.

Man, it's gonna be so cool taking her to the party, he thought.

He wondered what Heather would think. Would she be jealous? Would she want him again? Maybe if he played his cards right, he could have two girls that evening. Gina made him feel like he could do anything.

Gina moaned as her pleasure soared, and Victor drifted into her mind again. She imagined him behind her, his thick cock pounding into her. Her pussy tightened around Brad's cock in response to her lusty fantasy. Through the euphoric sexual haze came a single question: Why did she think Brad had been her first when it had been Victor?

Gina had no reason to ask such a question. She had given herself to Brad, and he was fucking her. All was as it should be. Her question was an irrelevant detail. The answer was simple anyway: because that was what she had thought at the time.

But why did she think that way?

Brad groaned, his cock straining. He grasped her hips and yanked her towards him with each thrust into her slick pussy. Gina's pleasure rose with his but properly trailed just behind. His pleasure first, then her pleasure by his leave.

But why did she think this way?

In her tumultuous state of mind, nothing could suppress or censor the truth: because Victor let her believe it.

Brad slammed his cock home and threw his head back as he throbbed. Gina squealed as she crested seconds later. He had wanted her to cum, to writhe and thrash in the throes of a climax delivered by his superior skill in the sexual arts, and thus Gina obliged.

Gina moaned, her pussy throbbing as hard as it had the previous times. Her mind slipped into total erotic bliss, her ecstasy feeding back into her obedience, bringing the two concepts closer together in her mind.

Because Victor let you believe it.

Gina let out a long, soft sigh as her orgasm played out. Panting, Brad drew back from her, turned, and plopped down on the edge of the bed. "Oh man..."

Gina opened her eyes and rose on all fours. She paused for a moment to catch her breath, then rolled over and sat up. "Did I please you?"

"Shit, Gina, I don't think there's any way you can't please me!" Brad said with a short, shaky laugh. "Man, I've never fucked that long in one day."

Because Victor let you believe it.

Gina blinked rapidly a few times. For some inexplicable reason, she felt the urge to ask him if he had ever fucked her in Victor's office. It would have made more sense to her than the idea that Victor would...

Brad put his hand on Gina's thigh and squeezed it. "You still want to do this the night of the party?"

"Yes, Brad," said Gina with a soft eagerness in her voice. "Whenever you want to do it."

"Damn. I wish my parents were gone tomorrow, too."

"Any time you want."

Brad smirked and chuckled. "You're starting to sound like you're my slave or something."

Because Victor let you believe it.

Victor let her believe that Brad had been her first instead of Victor, despite Victor's claim that she was not ready for him yet. But why did it matter?

It didn't. "Yes," Gina finally said.

Brad eyed her. "Huh?"

"Yes," she repeated, staring straight ahead. "That's ... that's what I am, isn't it?"

"Um..."

"Yes," Gina said again, letting out a sigh of relief as her odd and disturbing thoughts retreated for now. "I'm your slave."

"You ... you're not ... holy shit, you really mean it, don't you?"

Gina smiled and nodded.

"So ... so you have to call me Master now?"

"Yes, Master."

Brad grinned. "This is gonna be so freaking cool."

Jason had become so aware of the energy patterns that were associated with not just the Darkness but the powers of the mind in general that he could feel his own thoughts being shaped.

Heather did not have to speak. Her presence was enough for her perception of reality to impinge on his own. He had abetted it by dwelling on Diane and her predicament, the need to question it growing less urgent each time. Complete acceptance was slower to manifest, but Jason feared it would follow soon after.

Having her ride his bike with her arms wrapped around him and her breasts pressed into his back did not help. With the adrenaline rush gone, the link and its need came to the fore. He felt guilty to be thinking about sex when Melinda was in such dire straits, then foolish over the guilt since sex was the driving need that might help her.

The three said nothing to each other as they dismounted and locked up the bicycles in the rear of the park before heading out onto the greenbelt. Even as they entered the backyard of the meeting house, they acted as strangers that happened to be traveling to the same location.

Jason glanced at Richie and wished he could share in the casual attitude that Richie seemed to exhibit towards the situation.

Heather finally broke the silence as she paused at the back door. "I don't think Cassie is here yet. I didn't see her limo anywhere."

"Well, we have to do something," Jason muttered.

"I know, I just--"

Jason stepped around her and marched inside, his fingers curled hard around the edges of the Book.

Heather sighed and looked at Richie. Richie just shrugged and followed Jason.

Ned greeted them at the archway between the living room and the dining area, grinning and wearing only his briefs, his cock tenting the fabric. "Gangs all here, huh?"

Jason wanted to call him out for daring to even consider smiling at a time like this. "Yeah, and I got the Book."

"Our li'l bundle of obedient love is waitin' fer us, all primed and ready."

Richie had peered past Ned, and now Jason did as well.

Diane was naked, kneeling on the floor before the sofa. Her pussy lay exposed and damp between parted thighs. Her hands cupped her breasts, fondling them and teasing the nipples. Her breathing was a low, soft pant, her body shivering with unrelenting desire.

Even Richie looked a bit surprised, raising his eyebrows as if unsure how to react. Jason said nothing and simply stared, his body commenting for him as his cock hardened.

"Shit, she's really gonna be our slave?" Richie asked, looking askance at Ned.

Ned smirked. "She is our slave, dude."

"Yeah, that's what Heather said. I'll believe it when I see it."

"Then go fer it."

"Huh?"

Ned stepped to one side and swept his arm towards Diane. "Take 'er out fer a test ride."

Heather slowly smiled. Jason swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to remember Diane as a Harbinger.

Richie gave Ned a skeptical look and stepped forward. As he approached, Diane looked up. Jason was startled by the dark lust in her eyes.

"Yes, Master?" she asked in a breathless, sultry voice.

"Shit, that's weird coming from you," Richie said.

Diane just kept looking up at him, eager and expectant.

Richie looked back at the others for a moment and ran a hand through his hair. He gave up his hesitation before Victor's perception could do it for him. "Okay, fine." He undid his belt and shoved his jeans and briefs down his legs. Diane stared at his cock as it grew stiff before her eyes.

She knew what he wanted. A second after Richie had disentangled himself from his clothing, she grasped his cock near his balls and the rest disappeared into her warm mouth.

Richie shuddered. She drew back, lips and tongue clamped to his hard flesh, lingered on the most sensitive spot, then sucked him in again. She tilted her head back on the return, her tongue drawing firm strokes against the underside of his cock.

"Fuck," Richie groaned, and rocked his hips in time to her mouth. "For a lezzie, you're good at this."

"Been teachin' her a few things," Ned said with a wide grin.

Heather chuckled. She stepped over to Diane and stroked her hair. "Richie, if she does that half as good as she licks pussy, you won't be disappointed."

"Oh man, yeah," Richie moaned.

Jason had not moved. His fingers were numb where they still gripped the Book. He finally tucked it under one arm and shook out his hand.

The distraction did not help. He recalled how much he had enjoyed the few times that he had control over Melinda. He could recapture those moments now.

Yet it was the same danger they had confronted at the House. In that moment of rational clarity, Jason resented Ned for presenting him with power he did not want. It vanished seconds later, resentment becoming envy when Ned stripped off his briefs and Diane stroked his cock with her long, nimble fingers. Richie fall from his mouth, and she took Ned's cock instead, head bobbing in eager obedience.

"W-we should get the spell started," Jason said in a weak voice.

Ned looked over his shoulder. "Gotta have Cassie here fer that. Meanwhile, enjoy yerself and let's see if we can get some energy to Melinda."

Any protest against the idea that he could enjoy himself died when Heather crouched behind Diane and reached between her lover's legs. Diane shuddered and let out a breathy moan as her Mistress' fingers sank into her cunt. She switched from Ned back to Richie, his cock disappearing into her hungry mouth.

Melinda, Jason thought as he started forward. This is for Melinda. For MELINDA.

"Let Jason take your place, Ned," Heather said in a husky voice.

Ned glanced at her as he rocked his hips in time to Diane's strokes. "Got sumthing in mind?"

"Yeah, your cock in my pussy."

Jason saw just a moment's hesitation on Ned's face, a sigh of relief passing his lips. He had needed to see some sign that they had not forgotten who they were or for whom they cared.

"Heh, can't argue with an offer like that," Ned drawled.

Jason pulled off his shirt and stepped forward. The moment Jason had his jeans down, Ned nudged Diane's hand from his cock. "Go give Jason a bit o'finger-fun, slave."

Jason uttered a small gasp as Diane's fingers sought his cock before he pulled his briefs down. He stumbled as her fingers stroked him hard before he had a chance to step out of the clothing crumpled around his feet.

He should tell her to stop. He should excuse himself and wait until they could properly perform the spell. He did not have to indulge himself.

His eyes met Diane's face as her mouth slid down Richie's cock. He saw Richie's hands clench and unclench, and his body shudder.

"S-suck me, too, slave," Jason said.

Diane obliged. Jason lost himself to the sexual delight.

Cassie sat in the back of the limo trying to keep herself calm and failing. She sensed the raw sexual abandon surging from the other Harbingers over the link. Her pussy was still so wet; masturbating in the bathroom had only removed the immediate urgency.

Her mind visited each of the other Harbingers in turn, and she channeled their pleasure and their desires into her own psyche. She felt Richie and then Jason cum into Diane's mouth. She felt Ned fucking Heather. She squeezed her legs together and bit back a moan.

She forced herself to retreat from their minds as the limo pulled up outside the park. She took a few deep breaths and conjured a shield before the link. It lasted long enough to depart from the limo in a dignified manner and stroll into the park without breaking stride. As she reached the greenbelt, it deteriorated enough for her to feel the shared orgasm between Ned and Heather. Cassie's mind slid into Heather's before she could stop herself, and her own pussy throbbed for a few moments as well.

The power that Stephanie had given her was still not under her complete control. Shielding was the only thing she had managed to accomplish. Her efforts to restore it were futile in light of her mounting desire. She picked up her dress and ran for the house.

Cassie touched Melinda's mind, holding on to the link as an anchor. Even brushing Melinda's consciousness was such a shock that she stumbled. Raw lust and icy fear crashed into Cassie's mind like tidal waves. If she had slipped inside Melinda's mind, she was sure she would have fallen to the ground masturbating and crying at the same time.

Suddenly the pressure on Melinda's mind eased. Melinda had taken some of the energy generated by the other Harbingers to resist whatever they were doing to her.

Cassie entered the back yard and slowed as she crossed it, whimpering when her pussy suddenly strained on the brink of orgasm and then retreated in cruel mockery of her need. She advanced no more than a few steps when it happened again, and she fell to the ground when her knees gave out.

Cassie moaned and closed her eyes. She was sliding in and out of Harbinger minds with the chaos and intensity of a roller coaster. She set a final trembling shield in place across the portal to the link and stood up.

It was the others that were straining. Many of them had sent themselves to the brink of orgasm and were holding themselves there. Or were being held.

Cassie panicked at the thought that Victor's people were taking control of the Harbingers through Melinda. Only when she could force a thought through the miasma of lust did she realize that her own perception would have been altered as well, and she would be unable to question it.

She dashed for the house and barreled inside. At the threshold to the living room, she stopped and stared.