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Perceptions And DeceptionsChapter 14 free porn video
Cassie had calmed her libido with only marginal success by the time the limo pulled up in front of the house of Debby Radson, the mother of Susan Radson, one of the two girls that had been so horribly enslaved by Melissa. Despite Cassie's self-control, her sex still felt warm and willing, and walking only inflamed it.
Cassie did not pause to collect herself. She was as ready as she would ever be, and Jason was counting on her. She would not forget the flood of relief on his face when she took this task. She climbed the steps and knocked on the door.
A long silence followed, and Cassie worried that no one was home. Finally, there was a rush of approaching feet, and the door was yanked open by a familiar robed woman uttering a sigh of irritation. "Yes, who is it? I'm right in the middle ... oh!" Her irritation vanished and she smiled. "Cassie, hello!"
"Hi, Mrs. Radson. I'm sorry if I came at a bad time."
She beamed. "For you, no time is a bad time. Please, come in!"
Cassie stepped inside. "I'm sorry if I interrupted something."
Debby waved a hand. "I have several rituals that I need to perform outdoors, and I try to do them when everyone is at work so there are no neighbors to complain about that dumpy old woman prancing about in her skimpy robes and waving flowers and branches about," she explained with a wry smile. "I usually do them in the morning, but the wind was dreadful today."
Cassie smiled. She did not believe Debby was "dumpy" and certainly not "old."
Debby clasped her hands together. "So what may I do for you, Cassie? Are you here for another reading?"
Cassie saw the eagerness in Debby's eyes. She remembered Debby's surprise upon reading Cassie's aura -- her more "traditional" psychic aura in this case -- and discovered Cassie's Dream Gift before Cassie had mentioned it or knew what to call it. "Maybe later, Mrs. Radson. I have something I really need to talk to you about."
"Is something the matter?"
"Well, sort of. But it has nothing to do with the Darkness. At least I don't think it does."
Debby nodded. "Well, come with me to the pantry then. I won't take a reading from you yet, but I do want to cast a circle about us so we can speak without being bothered by an unwelcome presence."
Cassie nodded and followed. She doubted that such a ritual would stop a minion of the Darkness, but she did not want to appear intolerant of Debby's beliefs.
Taking another reading of her psychic aura unnerved her. Cassie doubted her additional abilities would remain hidden. She worried that Debby would take one look at Cassie's mutated aura and recoil in shock.
As soon as Cassie sat in the small, dark alcove, Debby set up the bits of material to represent air, fire, water, and earth on the floor about the table. To Cassie's silent appreciation, Debby did not dally with more than a short incantation over each. When Debby sat down, she moved the candles she used for aura readings out of the direct line of sight between her and Cassie.
"All right, then," Debby said, folding her hands before her. "What's bothering you, Cassie?"
Cassie stumbled at first in her narrative, her words halting and jumbled as she struggled to sort out the events in her head and get past her own embarrassment. To Cassie's relief, Debby remained patient and let her talk without interruption as she explained Heather's increased libido and its effects on the others. While Debby did betray some shock, she neither passed judgment nor flinched at Cassie's candor.
Cassie mentioned her own troubles as well, despite her embarrassment and the unrelenting ache in her pussy.
Debby sat in quiet contemplation at the conclusion of Cassie's story. She leaned back in her chair and focused her eyes on Cassie. "Forgive me for asking this, I know you've already revealed a huge amount of terribly personal information, but are you sexually aroused at this moment?"
Cassie's eyes widened. "Oh goodness, is it that obvious?"
Debby offered a wan smile. "Not to most people, no, but I have a better sense for this sort of thing."
"Oh. You mean ... because of Melissa..."
Debby's eyes clouded. "That's part of it. But it was something that I could see before that. You have such a strong aura that I can see flickers of it even without formal preparation. And yes, I mean an ordinary psychic aura, not a Dark Aura."
"Mrs. Radson, I know I said this didn't have to do with the Darkness, but could I be wrong? Could it be trying to get at us through her?"
"To be honest, Cassie, you and your friends understand far more about the Darkness than I do. My meager abilities pale in comparison to what you and your friends share. But one thing I can tell you is that sex is not inherently bad. I'm pretty sure you already know this."
"Well, yes, but compelling people into it can't be right."
"No, it's not. I just want to make sure what you're actually frightened about."
"I'm not sure myself. But it scares me that all it took was a few words and a single touch from Heather to make me as aroused as I am."
"Now, again, stop me if you don't want to answer any more of these questions, but exactly who are you aroused for, or is undirected?"
A rush of sexual heat met the thought of Ned waiting in the limo. But other images teased her desires as well. Her tongue flicked against her teeth as she recalled when Melissa controlled her on the night of the Rite, and for a moment she thought she could still taste Jason's cock in her mouth.
Her pussy ran hot and seeped through her panties.
"M-mostly Ned," she said in a low, husky voice. "But ... I-I'm not sure if ... if I let myself do it with him near the others that I might not stop myself from..." She trailed off as both revulsion and lust taunted her at the the thought of complete sexual abandon.
Debby nodded. "I understand, Cassie, you don't need to go on."
"We just don't know what to do," Cassie said in a quavering voice. "It's like Heather can't get enough and she's forcing everyone else to indulge her. But there's something else..."
She told Debby of Heather's vision, and how it had come on stronger since Heather became so sex-starved. "Jason said that Elizabeth's journal had something in it about sex providing energy or power."
Debby was given pause by the revelation that someone was after the Book. She burned with the need to know more, even to demand what was being done to keep the Book safe, but Cassie needed her to remain focused on Cassie's issues. "Yes, that's most certainly true."
"But this is crazy. She can't possibly need that much! None of the rest of us need ... um..."
Cassie trailed off. Debby leaned forward and tilted her head. "Forgive me once more, Cassie, but is there something you're not telling me?"
Cassie would not let the words come to her lips, but she did nothing to stop Debby from moving the candle back to the center of the table. She stared as Debby lighted it and peered at Cassie through the dancing flame.
"Oh my," Debby said in an awed whisper. "Your dream band is far more prominent than it has ever been. And these strange layers within it, I've never seen the likes of them before. Has your own power been augmented as well?"
Her eyes subdued, Cassie nodded.
"At the same time that Heather began influencing you into having sex more often?"
Cassie sighed. "Yes. Mrs. Radson, do you see what I mean? I don't have nearly as much sex as Heather does, and I'm starting to do things with this Dream Gift that frighten me. Why does she need so much, and why is she trying to pull everyone else in as well?"
Richie didn't bother going into the main part of his house, intent on avoiding his mother. The night before he had swiped the extra garage door remote, which he used as soon as the bus trundled away around the curve of the road.
He let the door rise to only the level of his chest and ducked his head as he dashed inside. He threw his book-bag into a dusty corner and rolled his bike outside. As he mounted the bike, he aimed the remote over his shoulder. His bike bounced from sidewalk to asphalt just as the door thumped to the ground.
Lingering gusts tossed him in the intersections and blasted his face raw. His heart hammered as he passed the gate of the cemetery. Silence descended like a fog with a break in the wind. He slowed when the low rattle of bicycle gears sounded unnaturally loud to him.
The place was deserted, save for a maintenance man who pushed about a small garbage can, pausing to snatch litter that had been blown in by the ferocious morning winds.
Richie finally braked hard and skidded to a stop along one of the paths that ran roughly through the center of the cemetery. Now what? Which one should he pick?
He dismounted and walked his bike towards a light pole. The clank of the chain seemed to echo all over Haven as he locked up the bike. He felt a need to apologize for the noise.
Richie frowned and wanted to rail against something that had no form or substance. It was an unfair fight; the cemetery could intimidate him, but he could not intimidate it back.
He stepped off the path. Headstones lay in silent, stark contemplation in neat rows. Each was a little different, bearing some sort of unique touch that turned it more into a work of art than a marker for the dead. One had ornate carvings of roses. Another had a short poem. Still another had the name inscribed in gothic font. Each one had something that made it a little fancy.
Richie thrust his hands in his pockets and walked over to a grave at the end of the row, right at the edge of the manicured grass. Near a small, scraggly tree was a very plain, low headstone of weathered gray stone. Chalk dusted the edges, the dormant grass around it barely trod upon. The name "Samuel Toldon" leapt at him from the stark engraving.
He frowned. He thought he should know that name.
Richie took a deep breath and let it go. He looked around and cursed under his breath as he saw a woman laying flowers at another grave. He waited for a few minutes, but the woman lingered, dropping to one knee and lowering her head as if in prayer.
I hate this place, Richie thought as he did the same, laying a trembling hand upon the headstone.
Reality shifted.
The wind was gone. The tree was in leaf, its shadow stretching away before ruddy sunset light that gave a crimson edge to the dark gray headstone. Before him, a partially dug grave yawned, an icy chill racing at him from the deepest end.
The sound of a shovel distracted him. Richie jumped as a clod of dirt came hurtling towards him. A broad-shouldered man stripped to his waist thrust the shovel into the ground and wiped his sun-darkened brow. "Jesus, even this late in the day its hotter'n hell," he grumbled with a trace of a Spanish accent.
"It's the last one," said his leaner companion, standing in the shade of the tree. Richie turned his head, but his gaze was instead drawn to the unadorned coffin sitting on the ground near the base of the tree.
The first one frowned as he looked at the coffin as well. "Buryin's too good for this fucker."
"Hey, c'mon now." The second one paused to light a cigarette, his dimpled cheeks making his face look even thinner than it was. He blew out a cloud of smoke and waved it away. "Have some respect for the dead."
The first one snorted. "Not like he had respect for life."
The second one shook his head. "Not for us to judge. Leave that to the man upstairs."
"If there's any justice, he'll be headed to the man downstairs. Come on, you must've heard what he did to that poor girl. I mean, he just up and strangled her right in the middle of--"
"That's what he allegedly did. Was never proven in a court of law."
"Aw, fuck the court. He freaking admitted to it."
"They never found the body."
"They got the, whatchamacallit, the genetic tests. Her hair and stuff on him."
The second one let off a long plume of smoke and flicked ashes into the dirt. "True. But there was some question as to his sanity. Probably why he killed himself."
The first one made a derisive noise. "Yeah, and prob'ly just to escape justice here on Earth."
His companion smiled. "Well, if you seem so convinced that he already has a place reserved for him right at Satan's table, I guess it's better he passed on sooner rather than later, yes?"
The first one scowled. "He coulda at least told 'em where to find the body. Give the parents something to bury. Fucking bastard."
The second one took one last long drag of his cigarette and crushed the remains into the earth with his foot. "Here, I'll take over for you for a bit."
Richie stared at the coffin as he listened. Before he realized what he was doing, he edged towards it until it now lay right at his feet. Something inside throbbed with cold, malevolent power. Curiosity and revulsion both pulled at him as he reached his hand down to it.
Richie breathed hard as his shaking fingers passed through the coffin, his eyes glazed as his mind cast lurid images of the body rising from the coffin or seizing his hand. He half-expected to feel the touch of rotting flesh as his fingers dipped further towards the remains.
Richie's breath caught in his throat as if it had been flash-frozen. A maelstrom of dark energy swirled about him like a dust devil, showering every inch of his skin with tiny pinpricks of cold like icy needles.
Had to do it ... wasn't the one ... not what I needed...
Richie trembled. Muscles stood out on his arm in cords. The voices of the men fell away as his head swelled with horrible sensations of evil purpose.
She wanted it ... could've given it to her ... wanted to ... it wouldn't let me...
Richie wanted to scream. Something pulled on his arm, yet he did not move. The earth under him groaned as the grave spread like a cancer, a pit taking shape under him and the coffin.
No, don't worry ... never find her ... I'll take the secret with me ... I'll die for you...
The pit became a yawning chasm of darkness. Richie and the coffin were suspended above it, the malevolent vortex spinning faster and drawing inward, until an unholy wind roared in Richie's ears.
No one would look there ... not in the old airfield...
Richie's blood turned to ice. His arm shook as he fought to maintain contact.
Away from the lines ... no chance for Presence...
The coffin tipped into the pit. Darkness loomed as Richie fell with it.
No Presence ... nothing will linger ... no one will ever know...
Richie screamed icy silence from a frozen throat.
But I'll die on the energy line ... my Presence will serve you ... you'll give me purpose...
A hand landed on his shoulder. Richie let out a frightened yelp and spun around. A middle aged woman recoiled and snatched her hand back.
Richie stared. He was back in the present, and the woman standing in front of him was the one he had seen attending the other grave.
"I-I'm sorry," the woman stammered. "I just ... I just wanted to know if you were all right."
Richie looked around as his heart stopped pounding. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
The woman nodded. Her eyes shifted to the headstone. "Are you ... do you know... ?" Her head tilted towards the headstone, as if afraid to say the name.
Richie took a step back, feeling the need to distance himself. He looked at the ground to insure the coffin was safely back in the past. "Huh? No, not really. Just ... thought I knew the name or something."
The woman let out a relieved sigh. "Of course you wouldn't know him. You're fourteen?"
"Fifteen," Richie said with a small frown.
"Fifteen. Sorry. So you would've been only five."
"No, I don't know the fu ... the ... uh, the guy."
"Best that you don't. So terrible and tragic."
Richie glanced at the grave again. "They never found her?"
The woman shook her head, her face solemn. "The parents are still upset to this day. All they want is some closure. Just some way of being able to say goodbye to their daughter. He robbed them of that."
Richie bit his lip. "Guess the police gave up on it, huh? Right? They're not still lookin' for her."
"Oh, they still want to find her. It's still an open case. They think it could help them find the other killer."
Richie frowned. "Huh? What other killer?"
"Someone who did the same thing this one did. In that case, they had the bodies of the victims, but never found the killer. Horrible. So horrible."
An image flickered in Richie's head, a lingering memory from the deceased that uncovered one of his own. Cassie had described how she had peered into Melissa's mind and saw her transformation, how Melissa had received her power from the strange, dark spirit...
Richie swallowed hard. "I gotta go. See ya."
He ran as fast as his feet would take him before the woman could respond.
The quiet unsettled Cassie. Either Debby would tell her she had no idea or would burden her with a terrible revelation. Or worse: tell her that she should get over herself and give into it.
"Cassie," Debby finally said in a soft voice. "Has Jason been reading Elizabeth's journal?"
"Yes, but it's taking him time to get through it. Mrs. Radson, you mentioned you had read all of it yourself. Do you remember her talking about this sort of thing?"
"Well, not about this specific situation, no. But in her later entries she does talk about sex being used to control others, but that's not quite what we have here, is it?"
"But isn't it?"
Debby shook her head. "You never mentioned anything about Heather controlling any of you outside of sex."
"As far as I know, anyway."
"So it seems her influence is limited to gaining opportunity for sex rather than using sex itself. So this is very different from what the Darkness does."
Cassie greeted this news with relief. She had toyed with the possibility in her own head but feared it was only wishful thinking. "Does she say anything else about it?"
"Yes, I recall Elizabeth mentioning the benefits she perceived from frequent sex between those that are close."
"But there's been lots of people who have said things like that who are not Witches."
"Ah, yes, Cassie, but remember that Witches like Elizabeth -- and me -- believe that sex can generate beneficial energies." Debby smiled. "My dear husband, Goddess bless him, thinks the recent increase in my, well, sexual appetite is because I find him so irresistible. I'm actually hoping that it generates enough energy to offer him more protection against the Darkness."
Cassie smiled through her blush.
"Tell Jason to look at Elizabeth's journal around 1960 or 1961. That was about where she started doing real research into the nature of sexual energy. Some of what I told you now is explained in better detail."
Cassie's smile faded. She had not heard what she really wanted to know, which was how to get Heather to stop. "But, Mrs. Radson, what should I do? Are you telling me ... a-are you saying I should ... that Ned and I should..."
Debby shook her head. "Dear, I cannot tell you what you should or shouldn't do when it comes to intimate matters such as this. Even more so since you're underage."
"I certainly don't want to get you into trouble with the law, but--"
"It has nothing to do with legality. It's more that I feel sex is something personal and I can't make decisions like that for someone else. I can only tell you what I know and what my opinions of Heather's intentions are."
Cassie nodded but cast a helpless gaze at Debby.
Debby sighed. "I'm sorry, Cassie. It seems I have let you down."
"Oh, no, Mrs. Radson, you haven't. I mean, at least you don't seem too alarmed over what Heather is doing."
"Well, it certainly concerns me. But what is most fascinating about it is the fact that your cycles have all stopped, yet you're all sure none of you are pregnant."
"You never mentioned if there was any significance to that."
"It's possible. Many Pagans and Witches believe there is a deeper meaning to the monthly menstrual cycle, that each part somehow regulates creativity and introspection, and that it all ties back to the Goddess somehow. Cassie, so much of what has happened to all of you has had some sort of guiding hand behind it. I can't say by what or who."
Cassie nodded. So she IS telling me to give into it.
"But how you take that guidance has to be up to you. Ultimately, no one can be forced down a path that she doesn't want, regardless of Heather's influence."
"I-I can resist it, but it's very hard," Cassie said in a low voice.
"Has your arousal diminished any since you arrived here, Cassie?"
Cassie swallowed. "Not really, no."
Debby nodded and looked pained.
Cassie spread her legs across the chair to relieve the pressure. Her panties tugged into her slit as her hips slid forward, a tiny whimper escaping her lips. Her cheeks flamed. "I-I have someone I can ... well ... you know, satisfy it with, but we don't have many places we can go to do that sort of thing. It's very hard to get that sort of privacy when you're just a teenager."
"And you mentioned you won't have this house available to you past Halloween."
"I might be able to arrange something for Ned and I if I really have to, but I can't do that for Heather and the others."
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