Chapter 64

Debby was forced to tell Diane and Richie to hold their account until they returned home. She did not trust that she would have been in the proper emotional state to handle the icy roads if she had heard it either before or during the trip. This gave them a chance to calm down.

She wished she could do the same. Her heart pounded all the way home as she tried not to speculate on what they had seen. She could not imagine what more that poor woman could endure.

Soon after returning to her house, Debby learned she had been right to wait. She managed to hold back the tears of sympathy for now; she had to remain strong for the children.

"This is terrible," Debby finally said in a choked voice. "I-I don't know what to say. This just compounds the tragedy."

"I refuse to believe she was playing up to the Darkness all the time, Mrs. Radson," Diane declared.

"Of course she wasn't!" Richie cried. "How many times did she fucking let Heather or Melinda loose so they could help us?"

"And it's only been the last few weeks when all that stopped."

Debby nodded. "Yes, you're right. But will she see it that way if she ever comes out of it?"

"What the hell do you mean 'if?'" Richie demanded. "I gave Melinda the potion."

"You gave her half a dose, Richie," Debby said sharply. "Half a carefully measured dose. I have no idea if half will be enough for either of you."

Richie's eyes shimmered for a moment before he shook his head. "It'll work. It already has. Both me and Melinda have been using it."

"You don't understand, it's not a matter of..." Debby trailed off when she realized that continuing this line of conversation would only raise her fury towards Richie again. "Forget it, it's not important right now. What's done is done. Regardless of the potion, Melinda still has to want to try."

"I'll get her to do it."

"How?" Diane asked. "You can't even talk to her anymore over the phone let alone in person. Tomorrow at school will be too late, and she won't listen to anyone anyway."

"I'm telling you, I'll take care of it."

"What are you going to do, Richie?" Debby said.

"Look, just let me handle it, okay?"

"The last time I let you handle anything, you did exactly what I told you not to do!" Debby exploded. "You'll tell me exactly what you intend to do right now."

Richie sighed and rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine. So her parents won't let her talk to me during the day, right? I'll just talk to her at night."

"I fail to see where that will help, Richie," Debby said.

"Her mother is not going to let you see her any more at night than during the day," Diane said.

"I know that! I'm not as dumb as I look, okay?" Richie declared. "I'm going to go to her house after everyone's gone to bed."

Debby narrowed her eyes. "You are not going to break in."

"Fuck, no! You think I want the cops after me on top of everything else? Give me a little fucking credit for some sense."

Debby bit off a remark that would have gone full circle to the incident again. She could harp on it for a thousand years and nothing would change. "All right, I apologize," Debby said in a stiff voice. "What are you going to do, then?"

"I'm going to try to get Melinda's attention," Richie said. "Toss pebbles at her bedroom window or something."

"And how is that not avoiding the cops?" Diane asked.

"Unless I break something, they won't bother. If someone sees me, I'll just take off and come back when the coast is clear."

"I really don't like this," Debby said with a sigh.

"You got any other ideas?" Richie demanded. "'cause I sure as hell don't."

"You could get into serious trouble, and I'm not even talking about the police," Debby said. "If Mrs. Sovert has lost her battle with the Darkness and comes after you--"

"I've got the freaking potion, what's she gonna do to me?"

Debby again had to bite her tongue. Whenever he was this hell-bent on doing something, there was no reasoning with him. She had feared he would engage in needless heroics just to atone for a perceived past failure.

"I have to admit, Mrs. Radson," Diane said in a tentative voice. "I can't think of anything else, either."

Debby wondered if she were indeed being too timid or too overprotective of the Harbingers. "I know, Diane, I just don't want us taking more risks than we already have."

"Then you might as well tell me not to try to save Heather," Diane said, her eyes shimmering.

Debby stared at her, nonplussed.

"The journal said ... I-I have to be in the vicinity of the person I'm trying to rescue," Diane said in a low, quavering voice. "What about the one controlling her?"

Debby's eyes widened as she understood. "I honestly don't know. I'm not sure Elizabeth ever mentioned it."

"What, you mean I have to take my mother down to the Inn or something like that?" demanded Richie.

"No, I mean what you and Cassie and Melinda are going to be doing is different," said Diane. "Heather's not enslaved directly to the Darkness."

"Oh dear, I had not stopped to think about that," Debby said.

"Elizabeth used the potion to rescue someone, but she went over to his house and pretended to be controlled by him," Diane said. "Am I going to have to do the same thing?"

Debby draped her hand over her eyes. Not only was she being asked another question she was not sure she could answer, she was going to witness another Harbinger go deeper into danger.

She wanted to tell Diane that her ability to channel line energy would compensate for distance, but she had no idea if that were true. It should be true, she wanted it to be true, but she would never let Diane base a decision on that.

"I don't know," Debby said. "And I am beginning to hate those three words and how frequently I am forced to say them."

Diane gave her a disappointed look despite her attempts to hide it. She averted her eyes, then glanced behind her at the phone. "I better call my mother and let her know I'm okay." She bolted from the sofa and fled before Debby could say another word.

Debby's gaze fell on Richie. His eyes wandered about the room, his body tensing. When he finally met Debby's eyes, his shoulders slumped, and he thrust his hands into his pockets. "Um, Mrs. Radson?"

"Yes, Richie?"

"I'm sorry for that shit I pulled with the potion. I was intending to tell you today but not in the way it came out. Sounds like you knew already what I did."

Debby paused for a long moment, mulling over his psychic aura. "I believe you, and I understand you had only good intentions. But if you want me to tell you that what you did is okay, I cannot give you that."

"Yeah, I know. I'll get it done. My mother, I mean."

"I sincerely hope you do. In a way, your mother and Penny Sovert are kindred spirits. I don't know all the details of your mother's circumstances, but I cannot believe she came about them voluntarily."

Richie shuddered and nodded.

Debby tilted her head. "Richie, are you doing this for her?"

Richie stared. "Huh?"

"Just what I said. Are you doing this for her?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"As opposed to what is expected of you."

Richie frowned. "Of course it's fucking expected of me. The rest of the Harbingers are expecting me to do it. You are. My father."

"Your father?"

Richie remained silent for a long moment. "Yeah, my father," he finally said in a slightly quavering voice. "The link that Cassie says I have to him, remember?"

"Does he talk to you over this link?"

"More like shouting."

"Shouting? Why would he shout at you?"

Richie looked more uncomfortable with each question. "Look, what difference does it make?"

"Whether you believe he's talking or shouting makes a huge difference in--"

"I don't have to believe in jack shit. He really is talking to me. Shouting. Whatever!"

Debby was disturbed not so much by his defensiveness as the odd spikes in his psychic aura. Now that she had a chance to examine them properly, she discovered that her and Cassie's initial assessment had been off. He did not have two entities in his mind fighting one another. They were both manifestations of his own self.

It had nothing to do with the potion, though its effects helped bear it out. Whatever shouting match was going on in his head, it was his own voice and not that of his father.

"I am doing this for her, okay?" Richie snapped. "Why not let everyone else come along for the ride and get their fill as well?"

Diane returned. "My mother said I could stay out a little longer as long as I was home by three," she said. "But, honestly, I think we've done all we can do."

"I'll take you home now if you want me to, Diane," Debby said. "I agree, we've already been given a lot to think about."

"I don't feel like I got anything more to see," Richie said. "It's kinda like reaching the last chapter of the book. There just ain't no more."

Debby believed they had seen enough for a lifetime. She admitted to a burning curiosity as to what it was like to see the past, especially one's own past, in such crystal clarity. She would never be so frivolous as to ask him to perform for her without a good reason; wanting to watch her daughter again when she was a child was not enough.

She stood. "All right, let's go. Does anyone know how things are going to be coordinated tomorrow?"

"No clue," Richie said.

"I'm not sure, either," Diane said. "I guess I assumed it would all happen after school. That's the earliest any of us can do it."

"I'll talk to Cassie later," Debby said. "Though I have a feeling I have already pretty much played out my role in this."

Heather moaned into pink, wet flesh as her tongue snaked past swollen folds and buried itself inside the tight confines of Marcie's cunt. She felt her partner writhe and shudder at the intrusion, then tremble with delight as she pressed her lips to Marcie's mound and lashed at her clit.

Heather uttered another deep sigh into aroused flesh as her body writhed to the unrelenting probing of Marcie's tongue. She wrapped her arms tighter around her partner's legs, coaxing them wider apart. She felt Marcie's thighs tremble in anticipation of orgasm even as her own pussy strained at the edge.

Neither promise would be fulfilled. They writhed like two serpents twined about one another, moaning and whimpering into each other's mound until they fell back from their peaks. They began anew, licking and sucking to again chase the grail which never would be theirs.

Heather heard a deep moan and a sigh behind her, and her skin flushed hot with desire when she knew she had pleased her Mistress. She pushed her mound into Marcie's face, and soon Heather was panting hard as Marcie face-fucked her pussy. Then her own world became wet pussy, and she obligingly did the same.

Somewhere in the dim depths of her mind, she realized she was going home that evening, but wasn't home here with her Mistress? Already she longed to don the maid costume again so she could look so sexy and hot. Just that morning she had been given higher heels to wear, and she delighted in how they made her legs look.

"S-stop!" Laura cried in a stained voice.

Heather slowly and reluctantly parted from Marcie. They lay on their sides, panting hard, faces glistening, still staring with longing at each other's pussy.

"Heather, stand," Laura said, her voice breathless. "Marcie, heel."

Heather stood, panting lightly. Her pussy ached in unrequited need, pleasure still buzzing in her folds. Marcie dropped to all fours and sat back on her feet, like a dog on its haunches, the name tag on her collar jingling softly.

Heather gazed at her Mistress with longing. Laura's robe was parted, her legs spread. Laura idly fingered her folds while her other hand played with one of her stiff nipples. "One of you will get the privilege of licking my pussy," Laura said in a husky and sly voice. "And the other will get to cum."

Heather uttered a hot sigh of lust, her body trembling. Her pussy oozed anew at both prospects. She could think of no more wonderful a taste than that of her Mistress' pussy. The pleasure was almost as great as an orgasm.

Almost.

Heather shuddered as her pussy steamed. She watched as her Mistress downed the remaining contents of her glass of wine, and she again felt the urge to wear her costume and become her Mistress' wet pussy maid again. Then Marcie could please her Mistress' pussy, and Heather could be the one to

(lift the lid)

experience an exquisite orgasm as only her Mistress could give. Even if Mistress simply directed her to bring herself to climax, she would still become consumed by mind-numbing bliss.

She closed her eyes and licked her lips as her tongue craved the taste of Mistress' wet folds. She could please Mistress so much better than Marcie, who was little more than a puppy wrapped in a human body. Heather knew every nuance of Laura's pussy, knew how to interpret every little sigh and every little moan. She knew when to speed up and slow down.

But that would leave her unable to

(expose the webcam)

serve the glass of wine she knew Mistress would want. On a Sunday, Mistress always had two glasses in the afternoon. Her pussy throbbed with her heartbeat at the thought of the touch of the silk and lace against her helplessly aroused body, or the way it moved against her skin

(when she's not looking at you)

when she glided across the room on her high heels, or the way she would

(lift the lid)

lean over and

(expose the webcam)

let her plump breasts press against the tight lace, driving her mad with desire when Mistress teased them.

Laura glanced between the two of them, and then at her empty wine glass. She set it aside and spread her legs further, pulling the folds of the robe back. "Marcie, come here," Laura said, and Marcie rushed forward, gazing up at Laura with adoring, vacant eyes. "Marcie, lick."

Marcie placed her hands along Laura's thighs and descended upon Laura's mound, head bobbing up and down.

Laura let out a small, soft sigh. She lifted the glass briefly and put it down again. "Heather, serve me."

"Yes, Mistress, at once," Heather gushed with husky delight.

She stepped over to where she had placed her uniform and put on each piece slowly and with sexy grace. Laura smiled as fishnets slid up Heather's legs and lace rose into place tight against Heather's swollen mound, outlining the labia against the damp fabric. Laura uttered a husky sigh as the top squeezed Heather's plump breasts into round globes. Laura's eyes glittered with desire as Heather's feet slipped into high heels and pristine white gloves were drawn up her arms.

Heather was panting by the time she was done. Her pussy was a hot miasma of arousal, each step tugging the lace into her folds and stroking her clit, her pleasure rising to a constant, low background hum of sensual delight.

She glanced towards her Mistress. Laura had closed her eyes, her arms upon the rests, her fingers curling.

Heather headed into the kitchen. She glanced at the laptop, then back over her shoulder at her Mistress without pausing. She prepared the glass of wine, every movement perfectly sensuous even though Mistress was not

(when she's not)

looking at her. She placed the glass upon the tray, balanced the tray upon her hand, and started towards the living room. Mistress was panting, her head tilted back, her eyes still closed.

Heather stopped just short of the living room. Why? Was she not supposed to

(lift the lid)

deliver the wine at once and

(expose the webcam)

reap her Mistress' reward? Yes, of course. She had no idea why she would even think of stopping here. What strange thoughts she still had! She entered the living room and stood at her Mistress' side, presenting the tray and bowing.

Behind her, the lid of the laptop lay open.

Ned slouched in his chair, idly surfing the web, the browser window partially obscuring the web cam window. He caught something out of the corner of his eye as the words "NO SIGNAL" suddenly disappeared from the latter, and he turned his head in time to see the display sudden flicker to slow-framed life.

Ned dismissed the browser and bolted upright in his seat. His eyes widened as they were treated to a view of Heather's shapely behind see-sawing away from the camera, and then a very naked Marcie crouched between another woman's thighs.

"Showtime," Ned said with a smirk as he hit the "Record" button on the webcam application.

He watched as Heather delivered her tray to her Mistress. I know she's ain't 'xactly doin' this of her own free will, Ned thought as he stared, but she is smokin' hot in that outfit.

He did feel bad about his thought a few moments later, when Laura took advantage of Heather's bowed position to play with her breasts and stroke her crotch until she was squirming with need. At least he assumed it was Laura. He uttered a low curse as he realized Laura's face was just out of the webcam view.

"Shit," Ned muttered. "Someone do something ta make her lean forward, fer Pete's sake!"

Heather straightened up. Ned glanced around when he heard faint, tinny noises, until he realized it was coming from the monitor's cheap built-in speakers. The laptop was picking up sound as well.

"Holy Christ onna donkey," Ned muttered as he lunged for the volume control and twisted the knob almost as far as it would go.

He missed hearing Laura's command to Heather, but he figured out exactly what it was a moment later. As Heather crossed the field of view, Marcie rose on all fours. Heather dropped to the floor, then rolled onto her back with her head between Marcie's thighs. Marcie lowered her hips until Heather's face was buried in Marcie's mound.

Ned rubbed the back of his neck and shifted in his seat in a vain attempt to accommodate his expanding cock as moaning emanated from the speakers. Shit, I shouldn't really be gettin' off on this, but wow...

He was startled by a gruff voice at the door. "I heard odd sounds coming from the lab, and thought I would..."