Chapter 42

Once the meeting was over and Heather had exchanged a near tearful parting with Diane, she had hoped she could simply submit to the enslaving desires which threatened to absorb what little energy remained from her tryst with Richie. That all changed when Melinda mentioned Penny's interrogation concerning the pendant.

Heather had denied any knowledge of it, but she was not sure her little sister was convinced. Heather did not waste any further time or energy on it, as she needed what little remained fend off her mother's probing.

Heather had hoped it would come sooner rather than later. Instead, Penny left her to squirm in growing wet lust for half the trip until she longed for her Mistress' commands. Her Mistress' Dark power wove itself through her psyche, reverting her to the wet-pussy slave she always knew she should be.

Threading its way into the weave was guilt over having failed her Mistress' directive. Melinda should be in the back seat, moaning and whimpering as her special panties fucked her with every Haven High cock that ever passed her Mistress' folds.

"Heather, I need to ask you a question," Penny finally said.

Heather shivered and struggled to drag her mind into some semblance of rational thinking. She swallowed and let out a ragged sigh. "Y-yes, Mom?" she said in a breathy voice.

"I want an honest answer from you. Just like you would give your Mistress."

Heather nodded and spread her legs in a vain attempt to relieve the ache in her pussy. She longed to touch it, despite how much of a bad girl she would be for it. Mistress forbid her from touching herself, no matter how wet or wanting. A glimmer of thought fought against the tide of lust in a repeating mantra: My mother is not my Mistress ... My mother is not my Mistress...

"My gold pendant is missing," said Penny. "Do you know anything about it?"

Heather moaned as her pussy suddenly began to throb in a weak but constant orgasm. She shivered and tried not to hate her mother for taking advantage of her weakened resistance. "N-no, I don't. I-I didn't even know it was missing."

She heard her mother's exasperated sigh. "You do know you would be a bad girl for lying to me. A very bad girl."

Heather bit her lip to suppress a whimper. Her orgasm faded, replaced with a soaring and straining pleasure.

"Your Mistress would punish you for that by not letting you cum."

Heather did not know if she had actually heard the shakiness in her mother's voice or only imagined it. She writhed and tugged at the waist of her jeans in the vain hope that pulling her panties into her slit would send her over. She gasped as the brief stroke of soaked cloth against slick folds spiked her pleasure but would not make her crest.

"Don't be a bad girl, Heather," Penny said, her voice tinged with desperation.

Heather was at the end of her endurance. She wanted to submit and let come what may. She had held off only because of Diane and Richie, and to give in now would be an insult to their efforts. "I don't know anything about it," Heather moaned. "Uhng ... p-please, I..."

"You better not be lying to me. I could just as easily ask Laura to put the same question to you, and you would never lie to her."

"I w-would never lie to Mistress," Heather breathed before she could stop herself. She closed her eyes and whimpered as she eased back from the edge of orgasm, her pussy aching, her panties soaked through. She reached for her waist again but stopped when the car pulled up outside Laura Bendon's house.

Heather let out a breathy sigh. She lost what little will she had mustered and now longed for her Mistress' presence. Her clothing felt too confining and unsexy. She welcomed the sensuous touch of the maid outfit and the sexy elegance of her high-heels, as much as her pussy ached to be filled with Marcie's strap-on or her skilled tongue.

She let herself out of the car and had already started down the walk, her mother trotting along behind her. She rang the doorbell and waited, panting softy in anticipation. The door opened, and it was all Heather could do not to drop to her knees before her Mistress.

"You're late," Laura said.

"I'm sorry, Laura," said Penny in a contrite voice. "It won't happen again."

"Not a problem, really. I'll just take it out on Heather." She lay a hand against Heather's cheek and smiled. "And you'll love being punished, won't you, my pet?"

Heather shivered at her Mistress' touch, her pussy throbbing to the pulse of her racing heart. "Yes, Mistress," Heather moaned, her hips writhing as moisture trickled down the inside of her thighs. "Please do what you want with me."

"Laura," Heather heard her mother say in a trailing voice. She realized she should be concerned about this, but had trouble understanding why. She was too eager to hear what Mistress wanted of her, or what punishment she so rightly deserved would be imposed on her.

"Yes, what is it now?" her Mistress said in an annoyed voice.

A long pause. "Please give her time to study for her exams," her mother said. "I realize she's your slave, but I generally have my daughters--"

"You need not worry about that," Mistress said. "I am not about to have a slave of mine reflect badly on myself or the school." She chuckled. "I daresay she will get better grades this semester than ever before. Now, inside, slave."

"Yes, Mistress," Heather said in a soft, obedient voice as she stepped into the house and back into her role as a slave for another week. She felt a sense of relief, but it was not entirely centered around being her Mistress' good wet pussy slave. She hoped she would remember what that was all about.

Cassie did not feel very optimistic when her request was met with dead silence. At first she hoped the connection had simply dropped, but finally she heard a slow, disdainful sigh.

"Mother, this is not any different from me going to dinner with my friends or with Ned," Cassie said.

"On the contrary, Cassandra, there is a world of difference," said her mother in a crisp, haughty voice. "I allow you to go to only those restaurants with a solid reputation for serving excellent food. I have no idea what sort of tripe you might encounter otherwise."

"Mrs. Radson is an excellent cook," Cassie declared, though in fact she had no idea. "She has been cooking for her daughter and husband all these years. I sincerely doubt she would be doing that if her food had the tendency to make people sick."

Her mother sighed again, but a shorter one this time. Cassie hoped this was a breakthrough; such sighs usually preceded her mother acquiescing, albeit reluctantly. "You know I do not like changing plans at the last minute."

Cassie covered her eyes with her hand. "Please, mother, don't tell me you've scheduled another gala event tonight."

"No, I have not, but you know perfectly well your father invites his business partners for dinner on a regular basis. I prefer that the whole family put on a good face."

"Mother, I highly doubt father's business partners would base the outcome of their dealings on whether I am at the dinner table." And maybe for once I don't want my supposed poise and grace to be prostituted to sway any sort of deal, Cassie added in her head.

"Also understand I am concerned for your safety."

"What? My safety? How?"

"For the same reason Harry accompanies you, to prevent potential situations where those with criminal intent against the Kendall family and fortune would wish to take advantage of your vulnerability."

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Mother, that's ... really, this is silly. You already let me go over to Mrs. Radson's house to meet with my friends--"

"Something which I believe I may need to reconsider."

Cassie's heart pounded, but she refused to give in despite the implied threat. "Furthermore, if someone truly wanted to ransom me, I doubt very much they would be deterred unless you insisted on sending armed guards with me everywhere I go. And, please, mother, do not tell me you suspect Mrs. Radson or her family of any criminal intent." She narrowed her eyes and her voice turned cool. "For I am sure you have already had background checks run on the entire Radson family."

"Only for your own good, Cassandra!" cried an exasperated Dorothy.

"And I'll tell you what that check found: nothing."

Dorothy sniffed. "Other than Mrs. Radson's questionable politics and the so-called 'religion' she espouses."

"Which, as far as I am aware, is not automatically indicative of a potential for criminal intent."

"Enough!" her mother snapped. A pause, and then another sigh. "Who is going to be at dinner?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Radson and their daughter Susan. No one else."

"Give the phone to Harry, I wish to speak with him for a moment."

Cassie thrust the phone over the back of the front seat. "Harry? My mother," she said in a curt voice.

Harry nodded and placed the phone to his ear. "Yes, Mrs. Kendall, what may I do for you?" He glanced towards the house. "Yes, I observed the others leaving ... No, Mrs. Kendall, I have not seen the Gardner hoodlum since your edict concerning him."

Cassie draped a hand over her eyes and shook her head.

"As far as I am aware, there is no one else in the house ... Very well." He handed the phone back.

"Are you satisfied, mother?" Cassie asked, trying not to sound short.

"Barely," said Dorothy. "I suppose it is too much to ask that you to return home to change into some more appropriate attire."

"I am attired just fine. I don't need to put on airs for them."

"As I have told you before, it is not about..." Her mother trailed off. "Never mind, you will not listen to be anyway. Very well, you may stay for dinner."

Cassie uttered a gushing sigh of relief. "Thank you, mother."

"However, you will be back in this mansion not a minute later than nine o'clock. I will arrange for some food service for Harry so he may have dinner and remain with you."

Cassie was about to protest that she would be perfectly safe and could be left alone for the short time it would take Harry to get dinner, but she did not want to push her luck. "Yes, mother, nine o'clock."

Richie approached his home with all the caution of a soldier separated from his unit approaching an enemy outpost. His eyes darted towards the door as he walked his bike inside the garage, half-expecting his mother to come charging out, screaming and raising her fists. He waited for another moment, holding on to his bike in case he needed to make a quick getaway.

He finally walked around the back of the car and hit the button to close the garage. He waited until it was down and pressed his ear to the door into the house. He heard only the clink of utensils against pots and pans.

Richie opened the door and was assailed not by an angry mother but the wonderful aroma of frying hamburger and steaming sauerkraut. He shut the door and headed towards the kitchen, taking a cautious step inside.

On the stove, several thick burgers sizzled in a pan. Next to it, a crock of beans simmered. Behind them, hot dogs boiled in one pot, while sauerkraut steamed in another. Off to the side he heard the staccato sound of a knife against a cutting board. His mother bustled into view and tipped the board over the pan, dropping chopped onion into it.

"It will be another twenty minutes or so before dinner is ready," Sandra said in a harried voice as she crossed the room. "You've got enough time to see to Cathy before we eat." She reached the counter and paused. "If you would, please."

Richie stared at his mother. Her Aura was quiescent, no more than an inert cloak. He looked at the stove again. All his favorite foods were there, and his stomach rumbled in anticipation, though tempered with a bittersweet pang of memory.

The last time he had enjoyed such a repast was when he was twelve. Two months prior, all evidence pointed to him having stolen another kid's lunch box, resulting in being grounded at the height of the baseball season. When it was finally proven the lunch box had been planted on him by another student, his mother had done this for him that night.

When Richie had not moved for a minute, Sandra turned to him and sighed. "If you don't want to do anything with Cathy ... well, she's just going to be a mess during dinner, that's all I can really tell you. I gave her something that helped a little, but she has to have the real thing."

Richie saw the pleading look in his mother's eyes, but Jason's words sounded in his head. You did it for personal gratification. I did it for a greater good.

Richie frowned and realized what he hated most about what was happening to Jason. He had lost his moral compass. He had to make these decisions on his own and live with them.

"Yeah, fine, I'll take care of it," Richie said in a lackluster voice as he headed away.

No sooner had he stepped on the stairs when he heard moaning and panting from his room. He paused at the threshold as his eyes beheld a naked Cathy lying in his bed. Her legs were splayed wide, her hands gripping a large dildo which she thrust into herself with wild abandon, her hips rocking to the same irregular rhythm.

Cathy turned her head, her eyes shimmering with need. "Richie ... uhng ... p-please ... please fuck me..."

Richie watched her Aura churn, and he sensed the Darkness' presence. It did nothing to dampen his lust, and by the time he had stripped off his clothes, his cock was hard and pulsing. She pulled out the dildo with a wet squelch as he climbed atop the foot of the bed. Panting, her thighs quivering, she spread her legs and let out a single, ragged sigh as he descended on her.

Richie plunged into her with little preamble, his cock sinking hard into her tight cunt. He jammed his body against hers, eliciting a squeal of delight as her fingers curled around his arms. At once he felt the icy press of the Darkness around his mind, tendrils of her Aura slithering against him and twining around where their bodies joined.

You must have had such a busy day today, Richie, the silky words of the Darkness formed in his head.

Richie clenched his teeth and moved his hips like a piston, slamming his cock into Cathy, the bedsprings creaking with each thrust. Cathy tilted her head back and moaned, her breath ragged. She grasped her bouncing breasts and squeezed her nipples at Richie's silent bid, her eyes closing as she gasped out her pleasure.

Bet you're looking forward to that nice dinner your mother is making for you.

Richie had no idea where it was going with that, and he tried not to speculate too hard. Nothing should matter but Cathy. She was a wet pussy that needed to be filled and nothing more. Satisfy her need and never mind about his own; his pleasure was just coming along for the ride.

"Oh Richie..." Cathy moaned. "Oh yeah ... fuck me harder ... don't stop..."

Richie panted as his pleasure crept upward, too slow to be of his own doing. He leaned forward and pounded into her until Cathy's breathing became a harsh, staccato pant, her fingernails biting into his skin. She twined her legs around him as if afraid he was going to withdraw. She writhed and tensed as if she were close despite Richie glacial rise.

No need to hurry, the Darkness purred. You've put this off for so long you may as well enjoy it.

Richie was tempted to break off right there, and Cathy's grip on him tightened as if she had somehow sensed his thoughts. Cathy suddenly gasped and uttered a shrill cry, and his thrusts slowed as her pussy clamped hard around his cock before throbbing against it.

"Ohhh! ... Uhnng ... oh God ... more ... keep fucking me ... I need it again..." Cathy babbled.

I'm sure you deserve this after what you did today.

The meeting with the Harbingers sprang into his head, but he clamped down on it before he could recall the details. Only a blur of faces and disjointed words had flitted across his consciousness before he turned his mind away from it. He closed his eyes and willed his cock to rise faster.

Oh, yes, I'm sure you told your fellow Harbingers of your great exploits today. And I am sure you regaled them with how you escaped your mother's attempts to stop you.

Great exploits? Richie was genuinely confused. All he had done was follow Jason and help Heather with...

He tried to quell that memory as well, but not before a clear image of the heart-shaped pendant had appeared in his head. So Heather had taken that little trinket after all, the Darkness said. My, you had a busy day! But that I am sure paled in comparison to your really huge accomplishment today.

"Oh Richie..." Cathy gasped. "I'm going to cum again ... oh God... ohhhhh!..."

She let out another shrill cry, and Richie only now edged towards his own peak. He plateaued just before the point of no return, his balls aching and swollen, the muscles around his hips and thighs tiring. Cathy slid her trembling hands down his sides and around his hips, urging him onward as her second climax faded and her pussy remained slick and hot.

Richie had no idea what the hell the Darkness was talking about. Why did it think he had done something so great? Just because he had gone to extremes to get away from his mother? That had been only his own stupid, warped sense of priorities. He had been told that following Jason would do no good, yet his own stubborn nature made him want to do it all the more.

His thoughts dissolved as his cock strained, too late to fall back and too close to stop. He slowed his thrusts but plunged deeper. Her hips rocked in concert, rubbing her clit against his shaft. He clenched his teeth as tendrils of Dark power slid over the surface of his mind like snakes hunting for easy prey.

Now's your chance, Richie! Take Cathy as your complete slave. She'll always be happy and carefree. You'll never have to worry about her becoming traumatized ever again.

The sudden change of tack threw Richie for a loop, and his mind seized the opportunity, stretching his desires along their sexual link into her mind. His conversation with Jason suddenly reappeared, and he held on to a final moment of lucidity long enough to pull back from her mind before the two exploded into shared orgasm.

He trembled as his cock throbbed for what seemed an eternity before it finally faded. He collapsed against Cathy, and she clung to him, panting in his ear and grinding her hips against him as if savoring every last moment of contact with his flagging cock.

Richie extricated himself, the press of the Darkness lifting. Cathy's Aura settled to a more sedate swirl. He thought he understood what had almost happened. If he had enslaved Cathy, the Darkness would have taken him, and then it would know everything Richie did. It would know exactly what had happened at the meeting.

Yet it didn't care about the meeting. It still thought he had done something spectacular. His lips curled into a sly smile.

"Mmm, Richie, that was nice," Cathy moaned, still squirming, her pussy glistening with her own moisture as well as his seed.

"Yeah, it was great for me, too. Guess I kinda got a reward after all for everything I did today."

Richie smirked as Cathy's Aura suddenly churned as if agitated, even as Cathy smiled.

Some of Cassie's enthusiasm waned after Bill and Susan returned home. She felt an almost palpable tension. Whatever gratitude Susan may have once had towards the Harbingers for rescuing her from Melissa had long since been replaced with wary suspicion. Bill's feelings leaned more towards simple anxiety, as if he believed he was about to be judged by the Kendall family.

Cassie was careful to avoid saying anything about her family's wealth or prestige even in passing. She broke the ice with Bill by showing a genuine interest in his construction job. Cassie sensed shock at first, yet by the end of dinner he had become far more gregarious, regaling her with details of some of the favorite jobs he had done.

"A lot of people assume I stay in construction because it's a steady paycheck," Bill said. "I stay in it because I enjoy it. I feel you have to do something you enjoy or life just isn't worth it."

Cassie could not have agreed more, but she kept to herself the lament that she hoped she would be allowed to do the same one day.

Susan said very little the whole meal, though she slowly became more comfortable with Cassie's presence. Cassie wished she could ask Susan how she was doing, but Debby had advised her before dinner to avoid the subject of Melissa. "I fear she's starting to suppress what actually happened," Debby had said. "But the dinner table is likely not the place to force her to face the past."

As for the meal itself, Cassie could not have asked for anything better. Debby had made a casserole of noodles, ground beef, and vegetables in a thick sauce served over biscuits. "A pot luck" dinner was what Bill had called in an almost embarrassed voice. It was different from anything Cassie had ever had, and she amazed Bill by asking for seconds, and then thirds.

"My God, don't they feed you over there?" Bill had blurted out, and would likely have apologized if Cassie had not giggled. Even Susan cracked a tiny smile.

Nevertheless, Susan was the first to flee when dinner was over. "Cassie, it was very nice meeting you," Bill said with a genuine smile. "I admit, you weren't what I expected."

"She's just a normal teenage girl who happens to have a rich family, Bill, just as I told you," said Debby in an admonishing but affectionate voice.

Bill smirked. "Yeah, you'd think I'd start listening to you more often," he said as he started to collect the dishes.

"Do you want a hand with that, Mr. Radson?" Cassie asked, picking up her own plate.

Debby smiled and took Cassie's plate, handing it to Bill. "Actually, I wanted to use this time for us to talk."

"What's this?" Bill asked, and Cassie immediately sensed wariness.

"She has some dreams she wished me to assist in interpreting," Debby said. "Just put the dishes in the kitchen and I'll help you with them when I'm done with Cassie."

"Just be careful, Debby," Bill said as he carried the armload of dishes into the kitchen.

"Are you sure it's okay we do this?" Cassie asked as Debby shepherded her towards the pantry.

"Bill is afraid I will start dispatching psychiatric advice. Where I have no intention of doing so, there's no problem."