Chapter 61

Melinda was grateful to see Jason alone when he entered the bedroom, and she clung to him as soon as he stepped inside. She wished he had arrived sooner. Ned and Diane were there first, fucking like bunnies upon the only bed in the room. Debby had arranged two mattresses on the floor, one on each side of the bed, and a large plush chair was pushed into a far corner with throw pillows tossed beside it. Melinda thought the bed would be the only place where it did not feel so cramped.

Melinda pulled Jason down to one of the floor mattresses as soon as he was naked and spread her legs under him. She urged him down upon her with a desperation to satisfy her hyper-arousal and the need to banish unwanted thoughts about Debby. She gasped as his cock slid into her, and her legs wrapped around him like a vise. She moaned and ground her hips hard against him just to feel him inside her.

Melinda panted hard and rocked with his thrusts. Her mind tried to flash back to the cult. Her legs squeezed tighter around her lover as she used her willing pleasure to drive the demons of memory from her head.

Jason leaned forward, breathing hard as he stepped up the pace, drilling into her until they bounced against the mattress. Melinda wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer until the plump flesh of her breasts squeezed against his chest.

Melinda suddenly had a wild thought. What if her swelling bust-line was caused by Jason or Richie? Perhaps they were shaping her into a vision of their perfect mate. She knew Jason loved Heather's boobs, and Richie liked them large as well.

Melinda had no idea from where that strange thought had come. In her present state of lust, the rationality of her own thoughts was suspect.

"Uhhnn! Ohmigod! ... H-harder ... oh God!"

The thought slipped away from her as her pleasure peaked and her pussy throbbed. She clung to Jason and gasped into his ear. She had not felt him cum, and he still pounded into her. Melinda whimpered as her pleasure rose once more.

Cassie was a bit taken by the vision of the other two copulating couples when she first stepped into the room with Richie. She was still staring at them as Richie stripped off his costume.

Their lust and pleasure flowed from the link, flooding her mind until she could not tell them apart from her own desires. She reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down before they became too wet. Richie stepped behind her and slipped his hands around her sides. He grabbed her breasts and kneaded them.

"Oh g-goodness, Richie, let me get my costume off first," Cassie moaned.

Richie obliged for her. The bodice loosened and slipped from her body. He pulled her towards him, still fondling her breasts. Cassie moaned and succumbed to the role of the wench, the loose, easy woman whose pussy could be made wet for anyone. She embraced such a wonderfully rebellious idea and let Richie remove her skirt and push her down onto the mattress.

He's controlling me, Cassie thought with a mixture of trepidation and fascination. Just a little, but I can feel it.

The next moment, she wondered if it worked both ways, as Richie suddenly wrapped his arms around her thighs and plastered his mouth to her pussy.

"Oh! ... Ohhh! ... Oh goodness..." Cassie burbled as Richie licked and sucked at Cassie's wet pussy. She had thought for only a second how she had missed doing this as a prelude to intercourse. She had never seen Richie do this for any of the other girls; she felt privileged that she was the first.

He was no expert. Enthusiasm carried him more than skill, but still drove Cassie's excitement to excruciating heights. She panted and writhed, Richie's grip on her legs so tight she could not have escaped even if she had wanted to.

Yet despite catering to her fleeting wish, Richie was still in control. Her desires shifted in ways that she realized must have come from him. He wanted her to play the role of the wild, wet wench to the hilt, which meant taking his cock from behind like all good wenches should. Cassie whimpered, her need for his cock such that she was close to begging him for the privilege.

Richie relented, and she had the impression he was worried about pushing things too far. He need not have been concerned; wearing that wench costume had sparked a very much needed break from her imposed lifestyle. Thus when Richie was ready to fuck her, she rolled over onto all fours and thrust her ass into the air without hesitation.

His hands grasped her hips, and she trembled in anticipation. His cock touched her portal and hung there a moment, a merciless tease to Cassie's mounting need. Finally, he yanked her hips back and impaled her wet cunt. Cassie moaned and trembled, her pleasure soaring as he pumped his cock hard and fast into her helpless pussy.

Cassie's senses were on fire. Everything was magnified, even down to the scent of her own arousal and the wet noises of his cock slamming into her slick pussy. She entertained the notion of what her mother would think if the woman could see her daughter being fucked from behind like a "common slut," and she shuddered with pleasure at the image.

Yes, it was rebellion, as powerful a break with her prim and proper and appearance-obsessed family as she could manage. She was grateful for whatever influence from Richie had helped it emerge, a debt she felt she could scarcely pay.

Debby had sensed what was happening in the room as she reached the top of the stairs, but she nevertheless stood in shock when she first stepped across the threshold.

The psychic auras of the Harbingers seemed to leap at her, glowing bright in the band that represented their sexuality. She felt as energized by this display of mental fireworks as she was horny. Energy permeated the air and enhanced her senses to a level she had never experienced without the assistance of her candles and rites.

Her gaze was drawn to Diane, where she lie in utter submission to Ned. He exuded an air of smugness as he coupled with her in unabashed, raw lust.

"Oh, shit," Heather cried. "Jason was supposed to tell you something about Diane, but--"

Debby wanted to ask Heather about it, but the assault on her senses was relentless. "It will have to wait. Right now, I ... oh..."

Heather began to undress. "Mrs ... I mean, Debby, maybe you should sit down."

Debby nodded, her eyes wide. As much as she tried, she could not tear her eyes from Heather, as if mesmerized. Was Heather doing that to her? Or was it her own bisexuality blossoming amidst the sexual frenzy?

It mattered little. Her aching pussy grew more hot and needy as Heather's blouse came off. As if sensing the shift in Debby's emotions, Heather curled her lips into a sly smile. She removed the rest of her clothes in a slow, seductive strip, swinging her hips and gyrating her body in ways that no normal sixteen year old girl should be able to do so well.

Debby shivered and parted her legs. Heather was now much less the child and much more a beautiful young woman. Debby understood now why Heather was such a sexual focal point of the group. In the back of her mind, she still felt a lingering twinge of guilt, a voice that told her she was being a very bad parent. She was not only playing host to a teen orgy, she was participating in it! Others have gone to jail for less.

Heather's panties dropped to her ankles, her unrelenting sexuality entrancing Debby like a succubus' charms. Debby's heart raced as Heather approached, swinging her hips in a rhythm of sensual delight that captured and held Debby's senses in its thrall. When Heather pulled at the ends of the sash that held Debby's robe closed, Debby was helpless to do more than stare and shiver in mounting desire when the edges of the robe were parted.

Debby was nowhere near as svelte as Heather. Debby was more than twice Heather's age and sported a larger frame, her figure not as slinky as Heather's. Yet her skin was smooth and taut, her breasts still firm and shapely, and her sculpted thighs only slightly thickened by age.

Heather dropped to her knees between Debby's legs. A ragged sigh rose from Debby's parted and trembling lips as Heather's hands caressed the insides of Debby's thighs. Heather nudged Debby's legs further apart and lowered her face towards a warm and wet pussy.

"G-Goddess!" Debby breathed as Heather's tongue played in her folds. Pleasure shot through her like a bolt of lightning, her nipples tingling and daring her to touch them. She succumbed and fingered them, whimpering at the waves of delight that rippled over her body.

Debby sensed Heather in her mind. Heather was massaging her emotions, sensitizing her to Heather's touch. Debby was not afraid anymore. Heather was using the Darkness' own weapon against it. Whatever misgivings she may have harbored about the Harbingers' sexual escapades now retreated.

Heather pressed her lips to Debby's pussy and sucked. Debby gasped, her pleasure spiking, then easing. She heard a muffled moan. She gazed down and saw Heather moving her hand between her own legs with faint, moist sounds. A wave of satisfied warmth washed over her at the thought that Heather could become so aroused at giving Debby such pleasure.

"P-please, Heather," Debby said in a strained voice. "Don't bring yourself all the way. I want to do it myself."

Heather licked Debby's clit in a frenzy until Debby whimpered, then drew back with a sly grin. "I have to warn you, I squirt when I cum. A lot."

"I don't care! I just ... I just want a taste of you."

Debby realized that Heather had not made her say that; Heather had simply made it easier to say, just as it did the next words that came to her.

"I want to make you cum hard, " Debby whispered.

Heather grinned. "But first I get to do that to you." She clamped her mouth over Debby's mound and sucked hard.

"Oh, Goddess, yes!" Debby cried.

The Gina within, the one ensconced in her hidden room deep inside the mind of the would-be slave, did not know how to refer to herself anymore.

Each time she left her safe zone and stole down the corridors of the dungeon that was the real Gina's mind, she felt even more like an alien. She was the invader, the unwanted thought; "demon" was the term that she sensed, and Victor was her demon-slayer.

The Gina within -- she finally settled on "New Gina" for lack of a better term -- had pushed things as far as she dared. The guards that patrolled the corridors were all extensions of the bit of Victor's psyche that resided in the real Gina's mind like a cancer. They were ever more tense now, ever more alert, as if finally cognizant of New Gina's presence.

New Gina looked towards the door through which Cassie had last departed. It had not vanished as she believed it ought. Pastel light played in the space under the door, glowing bits of energy occasionally straying into the room. She tried to capture one, but it dissipated in her fingers.

She believed it was more than her benefactor's way in; it could be her way out as well.

Several times, New Gina had laid her hand upon the doorknob, willing herself to turn it and open the door to see what was on the other side. Maybe it would be better to escape. She had no past; she barely had a present; she could see no future.

Each time, she would remove her hand and back away. This time was no different. Yet now when her hand came away, a faint spark leapt from the knob to her fingers.

An odd sensation came over her, like someone calling her name from a distance. Her name, not the one whose mind she inhabited. She looked down at the sliver of light under the door. The bits of color swirled faster, and brighter hues shone forth at irregular intervals.

New Gina backed away. She sat down on the floor, crossed her legs under her, and waited.

In the middle of a vast, icy void, Stephanie could not stop shivering.

She clutched her knees to her chest, her ankles crossed before her sex. She lifted her gaze, her eyes shimmering in growing fear. The bars of her cage were little more than shadows. First they had simply grown dark, like a light dimmed. Now she understood the terrible truth, that the very substance of the bars was dimming.

They lay at the fuzzy edge of the void, wavering in a state of half-reality. Past them was a vast emptiness, less than nothing. She could no longer sense the outer "border" of this void, if it even had one anymore. A chill of death far worse than mere physical cessation crept down her spine with icy tendrils.

Stephanie believed she should have anticipated this. Lydia was never a complete person. She needed Stephanie's psychic energy to survive. When Stephanie gave the bulk of her powers to Cassie, she cut off the lifeline that had sustained the sham of Lydia's existence.

Stephanie wondered what was happening around Lydia. Had anyone noticed? Was anyone at all concerned? Or did they simply assume it was a reaction to whatever drug or sedative they had given her?

Stephanie looked up at the door Cassie had left behind. It remained solid, bright, real. One edge was close to the bars, but the void seemed to avoid it, as if it could not tolerate such blatant substance in its midst.

Stephanie had stared at that door, wanting to open it and step out of Lydia's husk. It could mean the end of her existence. For all she knew, a mind could not exist in the Dreamverse without a host to which to return. Better that sort of end, she thought, than to wait for nonexistence to claim her like the last person on a sinking ship.

As she stared at the door, she realized something had changed. Her arms loosened and dropped to her sides. Something urged her to ease herself towards it. She forced herself to stand and step towards the door, steeling herself against the icy cold that she expected to clutch at her heart. Instead, a light, pleasant warmth drifted towards her as she approached.

She looked down. Her toes were illuminated by flashes of light from under the door that sharpened in hue and moved in an increasing frenzy as she watched.

Stephanie touched her trembling hand to the door and waited.

Ned had cum inside Diane and felt Diane's pussy pulse around his shaft. She moaned and writhed in total sexual and submissive ecstasy. Her orgasm faded but did not stop. Nor did her lust, her eyes filled with want.

Ned was still inside her. His cock had not softened at all, nor would his intense desire for Diane wane. A fleeting twinge of guilt left him bewildered for a moment.

Diane squirmed, her hips grinding against him. "Your slave is still cumming," she said in a breathy voice. "Please, Master, fuck me again."

Ned's hands tightened around her arms. His cock tingled and felt full and hard, as if he had never cum. Dim, disassociated images flickered through his head from the memory of his first fuck with Diane back at his house. A thought remained just out of his reach. Something about the right battle. Strange that something like that would enter his head now. He wasn't sure what it meant, just that it was very important.

"Please, Master," Diane moaned.

Ned swallowed. His cock ached, both from the need to cum again and from the intense orgasm he just had. Then to her disappointed and pleading look, his cock popped out of her as he lifted himself.

"Sure thing, slave," Ned drawled, grinning. "But let's change up things a little."

He turned around and positioned his hips so that his cock hovered over her face. She wrapped her fingers around it, pointing it towards her open and eager mouth as he lowered his hips. She moaned as he plunged past her lips, shivering in delight at the taste of both his manhood and her own sex.

She panted hard as she devoured him, sucking him hard and massaging the rest of his shaft with firm strokes from her fingers. She trembled as Ned pressed his mouth to her wet, aching mound, and she squirmed as his tongue lashed at her swollen clit.

Melinda uttered a shrill cry as she came a second time when Jason's cock erupted inside her. They clung to each other as they throbbed in unison.

Energy surged back and forth over the link. Sometimes her own pleasure radiated to the others, sometimes theirs flowed back into her. When it did return, it brought a renewed lust, as if their intense sex had not been enough.

When Jason drew back, his cock had not flagged and still pulsed with his heartbeat. Melinda's breath was still a soft pant, her body refusing to slip into post-coital calm. Her pussy ached to be penetrated again, and she resisted the urge to lift her hips to his.

Jason's arms tightened around her, and he rolled them over until Melinda was on top, her pussy resting against the shaft of his cock. With a breathy moan, she speared her pussy with his cock and enveloped it inside her tight cunt. She drew herself up and started humping in a frenzy of renewed, unquenched lust.

Cassie's orgasm overwhelmed her senses until everything was no more than a deep fog of euphoric bliss. She felt detached from her body, her essence floating in a churning sea of pleasure. Only when Richie finally pulled out of her and she collapsed onto her side on the mattress did she finally feel rejoined with her body.

She moaned, her pussy still throbbing, her eyes closed against light that was too much for her overburdened senses to bear. She had shared her orgasm with the other Harbingers. They had all cum in quick succession, turning her climax into a single, roiling mass of pleasure that had overpowered all her mental shields.

In its wake, she had sensed something new over the link. As Richie descended on her, she realized it was Debby Radson.

"Mrs ... D-Debby..." Cassie moaned. "She's joining ... the link ... I can sense her ... oh goodness, I'm still cumming!"

Richie rolled her onto her back. Her eyes opened and widened, flicking down to his cock. It was hard again, poised above her and still wet from her sex.

"We gotta go again," Richie grunted.

Cassie nodded, her legs parting. In that brief moment she remembered the things she had said and done, and felt both exhilarated and embarrassed. But she was grateful as well. She had seen a side of herself she had not wanted to admit was there but was no longer afraid of it.

Cassie tilted her head back and gasped as Richie plunged into her again.

Debby had never felt anything like it in her life.

When she first had sex with her husband while they were still dating, her orgasm had risen into her mind and filled her with a sweet bliss like nothing she had ever experienced. She had forged a connection to him that, she believed, allowed her to feel his pleasure as well as her own.

That had convinced her that he was the one with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

Now something similar had happened again. As her pussy strained at the edge of orgasm, she suddenly could touch the minds of the Harbingers. A rising tide of emotion and sensation flooded her psyche, and at once they were all as familiar to her as her own kin.

And yet, something was off.

It was like a single voice a half-note off in a large chorus. As Debby's senses grew more sensitive, she felt the chill of the Darkness in Heather's mind, but that was not it. Heather was cognizant of the Darkness in her mind, and it had no direct access to the link. Debby would counsel her later.

It was Diane.

Debby tried to reach for it, but it escaped her grasp, lost in the straining need of her pussy as she clung to the edge of climax. She finally crested, her hips bucking hard, her breath heavy as her orgasm reverberated through her body and resonated in her mind.

Everything fell away from her. She was drifting in a thick fog of bliss, an ecstasy far more powerful than anything Melissa had ever induced in her. Like Cassie, she could feel the pleasure of the other Harbingers, but the realization that she had forged a link to them filled her with a joy beyond what mere physical pleasure could give her.

And yet, she heard the one discordant note. She touched Diane's mind and felt an alien presence, then something pushing back at her.

Through the slowly dissipating haze of sexual ecstasy, she saw Heather rise to her feet and give Debby a look of desperate longing. Debby smiled and stood. Her pussy still throbbed faintly, a low, continuous orgasm that lifted her spirits and chased away any remaining doubts that she was doing the right thing.