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Worlds Colliding Ch. 01

By: cafetray



I would recommend reading "Roman Holiday" and "Women's Health Issues 101" as this story assumes you are familiar with the plots and characters. If you aren't, this story will seem like an awful mess. 

Crossover stories are always tough. "Mork and Mindy" meet "Happy Days", "The Harlem Globetrotters on Gilligan's Island", that STUPID cartoon where Batman was on Scooby Doo ... there isn't a lot to recommend the crossover. But I'm going to try anyway.

Worlds Colliding – Part 1

Leslie seethed as she marched across the quad, snow crunching beneath her feet. She was getting sick of this, really sick of this. She had ideas, she had suggestions, she had points to make and every time she tried to bring them to Victoria Tastick, they were shot down. "Too aggressive" or "too hasty" or "we need to stay in the background". It was ridiculous. If you had the power, you used it ... that's the way the world worked. The Association had the power and they refused to use it. It was maddening! If she could just get a few minutes, along, with Victoria she was sure she could make her see reason. But all of her requests for face time with Victoria had been rejected, just like all her suggestions. And she knew why.

Bridget!

Bridget, Bridget Bridget! Everyone thought Bridget was so wonderful; Leslie thought Bridget was a fucking idiot. Bridget was the High Priestess of the "slow and steady" disease everyone in The Association was infected with. Victoria may have controlled their coven, but Bridget controlled access to Victoria. Leslie knew her real problem wasn't everyone else's timidity, it was Bridget. But as things stood, Bridget was an insurmountable problem. Sometimes Leslie wondered if induction into The Association had been worth it.

She looked around, remembered where she was and realized it had been. She was going to one of the best colleges in the nation. She may very well have made it here on her own, but The Association had made it easier. After college, she'd have a foot in the door in any profession she chose, thanks to The Association. And then there were the women. She'd been pretty good at talking women into bed before; the "insights" The Association had given her had made it ridiculously easy. Frustration with Bridget aside, her 1st semester of college had been the best four months of her life. There was no reason to think her second semester, barely one week old, would be any worse. Leslie knew she shouldn't be thing angry; things were good enough, at the very least.

But Leslie didn't believe in settling for good enough.

One thing that made her so angry was she'd almost been Bridget. Her rival had let slip once that when Victoria had been casting about for a protégé, the choice had come down to her and Bridget. For reasons that had never been shared with her, Bridget had been chosen. More than once, Leslie had speculated to herself Bridget blocked all her requests because maybe, just maybe, Victoria would realize she'd made the wrong choice.

The other thing she didn't like to think about. Bridget had personally handled Leslie's induction. It had been the most intense, most powerful sexual experience of her life. On the rare occasions her confidence wavered, Leslie thought of that night, of the powerful orgasm that had given birth to her new life, and she worried she'd never feel so gratified again.

Night had fallen, but Leslie had reached her destination, the campus science building. She let herself in through the back door, as she'd been instructed. She arrived in the class with 10 minutes to spare, and had a look around. The rumor was the professor was a lesbian and didn't let men into her classes. Not only that, the rumors also said the professor only let the best looking women into her classes. So far, the rumors looked to be true. The dozen other girls in the room could all stop traffic. Leslie wasn't the least bit intimidated. She's always had a beautiful face; thick, jet black hair, dark, liquid brown eyes, button nose, sensual mouth, sharp chin. But her body had been boyish, all knobby knees and elbows and gangly limbs with the loosest of connections to her torso. The summer before her senior year, her tits had grown in. Sure, she was only a b-cup, but that was one full cup size more than she'd had any hope to expect, and they fit her frame perfectly.

She didn't have big boobs, but she had nice ones, and anyone with a brain knew there was a difference. The rest of her curves had filled in as well. She had killer legs and an ass other women spent hours on the StairMaster trying to get. Boys began to notice her, which she didn't care about at all. Girls suddenly couldn't keep their ands off her, which she loved.

The professor entered the class and all the girls settled into their seats. She was tall, with sandy brown hair, green eyes and plump, shiny lips. Her breasts were full and round. The fitted dress pants she wore seemed molded to her flared hips and strong, long legs. Leslie got a little moist just looking at her. The professor quickly surveyed her newest students with satisfaction.

"My name is Professor Karen Sawyer and this is Women's Health Issues 101. If you are here for a different class, it's too late now," the students laughed. Prof. Sawyer reached into a bag on the desk and pulled out a grey sphere. She touched a button on the top and a soft hiss filled the room. "Each class will begin with a short meditation session. Breath in through your nose and out through your mouth and relax. I'll let you know when we're ready to begin."

Leslie did as she was told. He anger, her frustration, all thoughts of Victoria and Bridget melted away. It felt wonderful. She was shocked, when Prof. Sawyer called them back to attention, to see a full 30 minutes had passed. And she was aroused, wildly. Her pussy was warm and sticky. Her breath came in rapid, short gasps. Her nipples tingled. Leslie dared a look around the room. It was obvious she wasn't the only one in this state. Many of the girls were already feeling themselves up. Only some of them were trying to hide it, with no success at all. It struck Leslie as odd, for a second, but she decided she didn't care. She couldn't remember feeling so turned on.

"This class is dedicated to the exploration of female sexuality," Sawyer began with a smile, "and I am a firm believer in diving right into things. I invite you to begin exploring your sexuality now."

As one, the girls stood. Leslie's eyes went immediately to the girl at the front of her row, the one with the chocolate brown skin, hair woven into a mass of thing black and tan braids and massive breasts. Another girl moved in that direction. Leslie pushed her way past and threw herself into the black girl. The kiss froze the dusky vision, then she melted into it. Her hands found Leslie's ass, slid up her hips and along her ribs until Leslie's head rested in the crook of the girl's arms, crushing them together. Leslie felt the girl's chest swell and flatten against her.

Though four inches shorter, Leslie took control. She pirouetted and laid the black girl on a table, legs dangling over the edge. Leslie pulled the blouse free from the jeans and kissed her way up the girl's belly, undoing buttons as she went. When she got there, she made a point of ignoring the girl's tits, despite the fact she'd arched her back high to push them into Leslie's face. Instead, Leslie kept kissing and unbuttoning and when the blouse was completely open the girl lifted her torso off the table to strip the garment off her arms. She undid her bra for good measure.

Leslie lifted the cups off the cocoa orbs. The girl's nipples were hard and purple and the size of half dollar coins. Leslie took one into her mouth. The girl responded with a shudder, followed by a groan and panting. Her hands cupped her breasts, offering them to Leslie. Leslie worked slowly, taking her time as she moved from one teat to another. She liked her lovers good and wet, and when the black girl began writing on the table, Leslie knew all was ready.

She began to kiss and lick her way down the undulating belly. The black girl knew what was coming and she whimpered nervously. As Leslie ran her tongue in the girl's belly button, she unsnapped the jeans, eliciting a sharp gasp. The zipper was pushed down, and even through the denim Leslie could feel the wet heat emanating from the black girl's pussy. She positioned herself between the spread legs and ran her hands along the girl's hips, fingers slipping under the waistband. She pulled the jeans down, staring deeply into the black girl's eyes. She looked scared as she lay on the table, kneading her breasts, wearing only her g-string, but she did noting to stop Leslie. It occurred to Leslie she didn't know the girl's name and considered introducing herself before deciding an anonymous fuck would be so much hotter. Gently, she began to pull down the thong.

"Oh God ... oh my God ... oh my God," the black girl whispered, as if she couldn't believe what was happening. She offered no resistance, and spread her legs wide once the g-string was free. Her twat was split, wet and completely bald. It looked to Leslie like a dark, soft petal after a soaking rain. Leslie kissed all around it before running the tip of her tongue the length of the slit.

"Uhhhhh," Anonymous grunted. Leslie licked again and again was rewarded with a sound of pure eroticism. And then Leslie could take no more. Her tongue lashed savagely at Anonymous' quim, moving from swollen clit to leaking hole. The black girl propped herself on her elbows, hands still playing with her breasts, so she could watch as Leslie lapped away the last of her heterosexuality. Her roiling stomach drove her cunt into Leslie's face. Their eyes met.

"Yes, yes, yes ... fuck it ... fuck it girl," Anonymous growled. "So good ... so good ... ohhh ... ohhh ... now ... now ... nownownownooooo!"

Anonymous' head rolled back and she screamed, completely unconcerned with who knew the greatest orgasm of her life was ripping through her body at that very moment. The sensations pulsed from her cunt and seemed to rebound off of her extremities before concentrating between her legs again. Her arms gave out and she crashed to the table, body shuddering as the feeling ebbed.

Leslie stripped quickly and climbed onto the table. The two kissed fiercely, bodies struggling to press closer together. Leslie ran her body against the black girl's face, allowing only the shortest taste of her tits before moving on. Then she was straddling Anonymous' face. She lowered herself.

The other girls had broken up into twosomes and threesomes, on the tables, on the floor, against the wall. A long, wide tongue burrowed into Leslie's cunt. The music of women fucking women lilted all around her. Leslie fingered her nipples. Anonymous hit just the right spot and Leslie moaned. Realizing what she'd done, the black girl hit the spot again ... and again ... and again. When she finally came, Leslie screamed almost as loudly as the girl beneath her had. And when her strength allowed, Leslie did as Prof Sawyer instructed and found another girl.

It was over all too soon for Leslie. Prof. Sawyer gave them a pep talk as they all put their clothes back on, then dismissed the class. Most of the girls scrambled out, eager to continue what they'd started. Leslie doubted there'd be much sleep had this night. But she held back. Prof. Sawyer looked up when she realized she wasn't alone.

"Leslie, right?" Sawyer asked.

"That's right," Leslie approached the desk.

"I have to say I watched you for a while tonight," Sawyer smirked, "and I liked what I saw."

Pride filled Leslie. She could tell Prof. Sawyer was a kindred soul. Prof. Sawyer understood her. Whatever reservations or guild she'd felt about the decision she'd made were shattered. She glanced at the door. Anonymous stood there, waiting for her. Leslie took it as an omen. She smiled and the black girl returned it. Leslie turned back to Prof. Sawyer.

"There's something I need to tell you about," she began. "It's going to sound crazy, but bear with me."

***

Bridget sat in Victoria's kitchen, sipping an orange juice. Victoria had been on the phone when she'd arrived, and they conducted so much business in the kitchen anyway. Besides teaching Bridget how to use her powers, preparing her to lead a coven of her own someday, Victoria had taught the redhead everything she knew about cooking. A warm kitchen was Victoria's favorite classroom. Bridget was grateful for the familiar surroundings. She was that disturbed.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," despite the cheery tone, Bridget could tell something was on Victoria's mind. "I thought you wouldn't be home until the weekend."

"I took a couple days off from school. There's something I wanted to talk to you about and it couldn't wait."

"Go ahead," Victoria took a seat at the table.

Bridget paused, not sure how to begin, "I was wondering if you felt ... it ... last night?"

"Felt what?"

"I don't know," Bridget admitted. "I was hoping you might."

A serious expression clouded Victoria's face. She nodded, "I did feel it, and no, I have no idea what it was."

Victoria looked out the window as she thought, "Call the rest of the coven, start with the newest girls. Let's make sure everyone is okay."

"Alright," Bridget stood. "Is there anything else?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seem like you have something else that is bothering you."

Victoria waved her hand, "I got a phone call just now and I don't know what to make of it. Crazy stuff, but the woman who called has always been very reliable. But first things first. Call the girls and let's see what we can see."

Worlds Colliding Ch. 02



Bridget felt like a pinball, bouncing off people, working her way to the door as the subway pulled into Davis Square. The coil of humanity spilled out of the car, onto the platform and up the escalator and she was just another pretty college girl on her way to or from classes. She was grateful for the anonymity. "It" had happened three days ago; the disturbing, sleep dispelling sensation that had enveloped her then disappeared like a foul odor. She still had no idea what it was, and neither did Victoria, which was almost as disturbing as the feeling itself. Bridget had done as Victoria asked and called all the other girls. They'd all said they were fine, they'd all sounded fine. Victoria had marveled, more than once over the course of her training, that Bridget was a true empathy. Her ability to feel the thoughts and emotions of others was one of her greatest powers. But it wasn't a power that worked over the phone. So while she believed everyone when they said they were okay, she wasn't entirely assured by it. Being another face in the crowd, as she was now, made her feel like less of a target for whatever "it" was. She didn't bother to question why she assumed she was a target at all.

The cold air felt like a punch in the face as she stepped onto the sidewalk and she berated herself for not going to school someplace warm. She ticked the candidates off in her mind ... she was sure she could have gotten into Duke. North Carolina HAD to be warmer right now! She sprinted across the street and into her favorite coffee shop, ordered 24 ounces of French Roast (no fu-fu coffee for her) and was happy to see her favorite table was available, so life wasn't entirely awful. Settled in, finally starting to warm up, she started the reading for her "Politics of Nuclear Weapons" class. She'd only taken it to fill her Humanities requirement, so it had been a surprise to discover she was enjoying the class. The Professor was really good. She'd definitely check to see if he was teaching anything interesting the next term. It was after she'd fallen into a productive feeling rhythm when she heard just about the last voice she'd expected to hear calling her name.

"Hey Bridget."

Bridget looked up and her jaw dropped, "Leslie? What are you doing here?"

Leslie smiled pleasantly, "Had an interview in town for a summer internship and thought I'd look you up before I head back north. Mind if I sit?"

"Go ahead."

Leslie pulled up a chair, "It was sweet of you to call the other day to check up."

Bridget hoped the surprise she felt didn't show. Sweetness was something Leslie usually didn't respond to, "Well, you know, Victoria wanted me to check in with you all."

"Still, it was very nice," Leslie smiled again. "I was thinking, I have a couple hours to kill and ..."

"And?"

That smile again, "You know."

Bridget did. This was a bootie call. Normally, Bridget didn't have a problem with that. Lord knew she'd initiated more than a few those herself. But there was something else Leslie wanted, something Bridget couldn't discern. She was having trouble reading Leslie, which was unusual. All she knew was she didn't like how things felt.

"I wish you'd called ahead, I'd have made some time," Bridget replied. "But I am really swamped. I'm sorry."

Leslie shrugged, "I know how that is. Some other time, then?"

"Okay."

"I'll hold you to that," Leslie stood.

"I hope you get that internship," Bridget said.

"I'm not worried," Leslie said. "See you soon."

Bridget watched Leslie leave. Part of her felt like she should have kept Leslie around and tried to figure out what she really wanted. Mostly though, she was glad Leslie was gone. The whole thing just felt weird.

* * *

Part of Leslie wondered if she could have pushed a little harder, been more insistent, before deciding this was the right course. Time was on her side; there was no need to overdo things. And there were alternatives. Just because Bridget hadn't bitten didn't mean Leslie had to go back to Prof. Sawyer empty handed. Leslie pulled her cell phone from her jacket.

"Hey Tammi," Leslie said when the phone picked up.

"Leslie!" Tammi sounded surprised. Pleasantly so. "What's up, girl?"

"I was in town for an interview," Leslie lied for a second time, "and I have a couple hours to kill before I head back to New Hampshire. I was thinking we could ... hang out?"

"Hang out?"

Leslie laughed coyly, "We could stay in, if you wanted to."

Now Tammi laughed, "Staying in sounds okay. Where are you?"

"Davis Square. I can be at your place in 30 minutes."

"See you soon."

Leslie hung up. Then she called Prof. Sawyer with the change in plan.

* * *

Prof. Sawyer put the phone down and took a moment to think. The failure to capture this Bridget person wasn't a total surprise and Leslie's proposed consolation prize would serve her purpose almost as well ... her purpose being gathering data. The story Leslie had told her was fantastical; a cabal of lesbians scattered in positions of power and influence that recruited new members through magic? Her first inclination had been to laugh and dismiss it out of hand. There was no such thing as "magic". But Leslie had insisted it was the case. Arthur C. Clarke had once pointed out that any technology, sufficiently advanced, would be indistinguishable from magic. And then Prof. Sawyer had asked herself the one truly important question, "What if it's true?" Forget the "magic" part ... what if there really was a network out there of powerful women; and what if she could make them hers? The benefits would be incalculable. This Bridget person was the logical person to confirm Leslie's story, but other confirmations would help, and Leslie had that covered.

To be on the safe side, Prof. Sawyer had made alternate arrangements in case Leslie failed utterly. This "Association" had made a mistake. They were so sure of their anonymity they let their people go anywhere they wanted and now some of those people were out there by themselves. Alone. Vulnerable. Those were the people she intended to take first. She'd dispatched two of her more trusted slaves to start that process.

This was the only part of the plan that worried her. She only had two control spheres, and they were both out of her hands at the moment. Leslie had one; the recently dispatched pair had the other. It was a calculated risk and by the end of the day she was sure she'd have two new slaves. The Association, if it really existed, would be that much closer to being hers.

* * *

Allie had come to class prepared. Not with books or pens or whatever ... she always had those. Today she'd worn her bikini under her clothes. That way, when the TA dismissed the class, she'd gone to her car and driven straight to the beach. Maybe Florida State wasn't the best school in the country, but it was good enough, she was pulling down good grades, The Association would get her into any job she wanted anyway, the football was awesome, and at that precise moment, it was 67 degrees warmer in Tallahassee then it was back home. Yessiree, on days like this she felt like just about the smartest gal on the planet.

The drive was short and she peeled her clothes off in the car. She brought only a towel, a book and a bottle of water out on the sand with her. The beach was quiet, just a few kids surfing or sunning themselves, and she chose an especially quiet spot. She lay down, closed her eyes and let the sun make her logy.

"Mind if we join you?"

Allie opened her eyes. Two women, one black and the other white, stood above her ... and they were both pussy drenchingly hot. The white girl had long, brown hair, large, round breasts and long legs. The black girl wasn't as curvy as her friend. Her lines were long and elegant, from her straightened hair to her legs. Allie looked around, there was no one within 25 yards of them. Could this day get ANY better?

"Go right ahead," she sat up and extended a hand. "I'm Allie."

The black girl and white girl introduced themselves as Lisa and Cindy, respectively, then shucked off their shorts and tees. Lisa wore a purple bikini that blended seamlessly with her dark, dark skin. Cindy favored a red one piece cut high on the hips and low on the shoulders. The suit left just enough to the imagination, though Allie intended to investigate the reality, given half a chance. The two lay down, one on either side of Allie.

Allie wasn't stupid, and it didn't take her long to figure out the spot these two had chosen to lie out was no accident. These two were definitely checking her out. Allie had been saying something to Cindy, and when she turned to ask Lisa's opinion, she caught the black girl staring at her tits. To her credit, Lisa didn't act embarrassed or try to play it off; she'd just smiled and moistened her lips with the very tip of her tongue. Allie was into that kind of boldness.

Or when she'd told a joke and Cindy had chuckled, placing a hand on Allie's shoulder. The hand had lingered just a little longer than necessary, and as it withdrew, fingernails scraped gently against her skin.

"Girls after my own heart," Allie thought. Direct, confident, no doubting what everyone wanted. "It should always be this easy."

Out loud she said, "You know, I have some really great wine back at my place. Let's head there and drink some?"

Cindy and Lisa agreed this was an outstanding idea. The three gathered their stuff and piled into Allie's car. The drive to Allie's apartment was brief. When Cindy asked how she could afford an off-campus place of her own, Allie admitted the rent was paid by her father as a gift for the good grades she'd posted her first three years of school. She gave her new friends the $2 tour of the place and left them in the living room while she poured the wine.

She noticed the strange, soft hissing noise as soon as she came back into the living room. Sometimes, if one of her neighbors was using a cell phone, the speakers on her computer made a popping noise. The hiss sounded a little like that, but not quite, and she put it out of her head entirely as she handed the glasses to Lisa and Cindy. They toasted.

Each took a sip. Cindy and Lisa gave each other a conspiratorial look and put their glasses down. They took a step toward Allie and then their hands were drifting gently over her body. Cindy took Allie's glass and placed it with the others before she started planting light kisses along the offered throat. Lisa was kissing Allie's breasts through the bikini top.

"Let's go to my room," Allie whispered.

"No," Cindy replied. "Right here."

The three traded sloe, soulful kisses, Allie with Cindy, then Allie with Lisa, then Cindy with Lisa. Cindy kisses Allie again and as they did, Allie's hands came to rest on Cindy's chest. The girl's breasts felt as good as they looked. Allie felt the string of her top being pulled, then the garment fluttered away. Lisa maneuvered behind her, fondling her ass. Allie's hands drifted up to Cindy's shoulders. She lifted the shoulder straps of the bathing suit, then pulled them down, baring Cindy's chest. Allie bent forward to nurse on Cindy's teat. Lisa unbuttoned Allie's cutoffs; both the shorts and the suit bottom were pulled down. Lisa slowly kissed her way back up Allie's legs.

The two maneuvered Allie onto the floor. They stood over her, Cindy behind Lisa, Cindy untying Lisa's top as she sucked on the black girl's neck. Lisa fingered herself as she stared at Allie, who matched the gesture. Lisa's bottom tied off at the side. Cindy pulled at the knot. The site of Lisa's cherry red fingernails dancing across the purple/black slickness nearly made Allie cum on the spot. Suddenly the two switched positions. Cindy played with her magnificent tits, head thrown back as Lisa's hands disappeared into the bottom half of the bathing suit. Cindy's shorts were already on the floor. Allie could see Lisa's fingers outlined in the suit's crotch as they worked in and out of Cindy. Then Cindy was naked and the two girls were kissing as they masturbated each other.

Allie whined, desperate to have the two touch her again. The hissing she'd noticed earlier didn't seem any louder, but she was more aware of it. It seemed to envelope her, flow through her, spur her desperation. Lisa and Cindy joined her on the floor, their hands all over her body again, their mouths on her nipples. Allie alternately gasped, moaned, sighed, anything to let these two know she loved what they were doing. Cindy began kissing her way down Allie's stomach. At the same time Lisa brought her face up to Allie's. Their kiss was short, but intense, before Lisa was on the move again. Allie had time only to just feel Lisa's tits as they brushed against her mouth before the black girl was straddling Allie's head. Allie pulled the soaking cunt to her mouth.

Cindy's face was buried in Allie's twat. Allie spread wide for her. Lisa slid against Allie's face, all the while cursing, gasping, pulling on her nipples. She told Allie, explicitly, how good it felt, how incredible that tongue felt in her cunt, how she was going to cum. Then she did cum, and Allie came with her. It was like nothing Allie ever felt before: Powerful, intense, lasting, clarifying. Lisa collapsed to the floor and Cindy scrambled to take her place on Allie's mouth. Her own pussy still spasmed from her orgasm. Allie happily began to lick.

They went on for hours, each girl using all their body parts on the others: tongues, fingers, feet, toes, breasts ... fists. Then Allie got her toys and the cycle began anew. Each orgasm left Allie exhausted and positive she could not go on. Then Lisa or Cindy, or the both of them together, would do something new and wonderful and perverted to her, and she'd find the energy once again.

It was pitch black out when they finally ground to a stop. Allie lay flat on her back, Lisa's head on her stomach as though it was a pillow. She was vaguely aware of Cindy rooting around her, sifting through the discarded clothing. She found a cell phone, and dialed. Allie could see her face dimly lit by the phone's light.

Cindy bent down and held out the phone, "You have to come back with us, but Prof. Sawyer wants to talk to you now."

Allie took the phone.

* * *

Prof. Sawyer laid the phone on its cradle and leaned back in her chair, as far as it would go. Allie had told her exactly the same story as Leslie, which was exactly the same story Tammi had told. Karen smiled. She'd been thrilled when Leslie brought her Tammi, the busty Korean girl was absolutely stunning. Prof. Sawyer was even happier to discover what a talented tongue Tammi had. She looked down and brushed a wisp of hair from Tammi's face. The girl was naked and on all fours, her eyes brimming with devotion as she lapped at Prof. Sawyer's cunt. Across the room, Leslie and Holly made out on a couch, slowly disrobing each other. Prof. Sawyer had been so pleased with Tammi she'd allowed Leslie to choose any girl as a reward, and Leslie had chosen Holly. Later that night, Prof. Sawyer resolved, she'd arrange the three as she liked and have them perform for her.

Prof. Sawyer still didn't believe in magic, but whatever it was that bound Leslie, Allie, Tammi and the rest of The Association together, it was no match for the technology the control spheres represented. Her three newest sluts were proof of that. But two aspects of their stories had some credibility. First, this thing they called The Association existed, she was sure of that now. Second, they all agreed Bridget was their main contact to The Association. It was mildly interesting that both Tammi and Allie were quite fond of Bridget while Leslie made no effort to hide her contempt. Ultimately, it made no difference at all. Bridget knew all the secrets, Bridget was the key, so Bridget was the next logical acquisition. And she'd already offered Leslie a rain check. Prof. Sawyer groaned happily as Tammi stepped up her ministrations. Bridget would be hers soon.

* * *

Bridget had felt it again at the coffee shop; powerful, nauseating and close. The second occurrence of whatever "it" was had been enough to send her scurrying from the shop back to her dorm. She thought of Leslie the entire way. It couldn't have been a coincidence, Leslie's showing up and another attack of that awful sensation. Hours later, back in the dorm, she felt it again. Weaker this time, as if it were farther away, but definitely there. She shuddered when the wave finally passed. What the Hell was going on? 



Worlds Colliding Ch. 03



The snow fell slowly, in big downy flakes. It wasn't a blizzard by any means, Ashley had seen far worse, but it was more than enough to mess with traffic. Between that and the regular Friday evening exodus heading north now that the skiing was good, her car moved at a crawl. Actually, a crawl would have been an improvement. At the moment she wasn't moving at all. At this rate, it was going to take hours to get to Leslie's place.

She considered giving up, and might have if she was going to see anyone other than Leslie. Of all the girls she'd gone to Rome with, of all the girls she'd been inducted into The Association with, Ashley thought Leslie the most misunderstood. It was true Leslie could be hard to deal with, a little too convinced by her intelligence, a little too blunt and unyielding. But Leslie meant well and had proven to be a good, loyal friend. All Leslie really needed was a little help in learning how to turn it down a thousand or so. Ashley considered it her Christian Duty to help Leslie do that. Plus, her raven haired friend was absolutely awesome in bed.

Ashley had long since resolved the apparent contradiction between her religion and the secular delights offered by people like Leslie. Simply put, her fortuitous trip to Rome had taught her the world was more complicated than her pastor or her parents wanted her to believe. All The Association really did was help its members to help themselves, and what could be more pleasing to the Eyes of God? The Association never told her what to believe or how to do it. The same could not be said of her pastor or her parents. In the years since she'd come back from Rome, she found her spiritual community's insular world view more and more confining, but that wasn't God's fault. The fault lay with the imperfection of Man generally, and specifically with the imperfection of the people who claimed to know what was best for her. Ashley forgave them their trespasses, just as she knew God forgave her own trespasses. Given all of that, she chose the only path available to her ... she kept her life with The Association absolutely separate from that part of her life dominated by her parents.

None of which meant keeping the two lives separate was easy. Especially at first, it had been hard work to be the dutiful, God fearing daughter on the one hand while indulging her new found passions on the other. Gradually, it became second nature and as it did, she discovered how many others in her congregation, how many women, felt as she did ... such as the church's treasurer, a beautiful 38 year old woman from Mississippi who was in every way an upstanding member of the congregation and a wildcat of a snatch eater.

But at the moment, Ashley's biggest challenge was finding the patience to finish her current trip. She thought of Job, but then, he never had to deal with a winter traffic jam. She focused on Leslie, with the additional benefit that Tammi was already up there. Though they went to school less than 12 miles from each other, she hadn't seen Tammi since forever. All she had to do was get through the traffic.

But there was no getting around the fact that she was going to be late. Since she wasn't moving anyway, she didn't feel bad about whipping out her cell phone and calling ahead. Leslie had sounded breathless and flustered when she'd answered and Ashley didn't need to be a genius to figure out what had been going on when the call came through. They'd started the party a little early. Leslie took the bad news with good nature and promised they'd stay in until Ashley arrived.

And then things had gotten weird. There'd been a shuffling noise, then a bump when the phone was put down. But the call did not disconnect. Ashley yelled into the phone, twice, to get Leslie to hang up. No one paid her any mind because they'd gone back to what they'd been doing before she called. Ashley felt a little funny, listening in as Leslie and Tammi did it, but it was more entertaining than just sitting in traffic and she'd be joining in with the fun soon enough. She took a look around, made sure none of the other drivers were taking any particular interest in her. The she let a hand slip between her legs. She gently rubbed herself as she eavesdropped.

The connection wasn't perfect, so Ashley wasn't sure what she heard at first. Among the gasps and moans and sounds of pussy being licked, she heard Leslie say something that sounded like ... "capture"? Ashley shrugged ... dirty talk was sometimes something less than cogent. But Leslie kept talking, about The Association, about the other girls and what Ashley heard was enough to make her turn around, once the cars started moving again, and head back home. * * *

Victoria had been vague, but urgent, on the phone. She made it very clear, however, she needed to see Bridget right away. When she reached the office, she was surprised to see Ashley there, along with Victoria.

"Hey, how are you?" Bridget asked as she hugged her blond friend.

"Not so good."

"Ashley has a rather disturbing story to tell, I'm afraid," Victoria said seriously, then indicated everyone should sit. "Tell Bridget exactly what you told me."

"Well," Ashley took a deep breath, "I was driving up north to spend the weekend with Leslie. Tammi was going also, but she got up there before I did. I was running late, so I called ahead to let them know. After we got through, they didn't hang up or something because I could still hear them talking."

Bridget looked at Victoria, then back to Ashley, "They were talking about us ... The Association ... and how they were going to get us, all of us, and make us belong to some Professor of Leslie's."

"Wait a sec," Bridget interrupted. "Who is this Professor?"

"Prof. Karen Sawyer," Victoria answered.

"You know her?"

"Her reputation precedes her," Victoria opened a leather bound book of the type she used to take notes in. "About a week and a half ago I got a call from someone in The Association who works for the FBI. She's worried this Prof Sawyer has built some sort of mind control device and she wanted to know what I thought about the possibility."

"Right around the time we started getting those funny feelings," Bridget said. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her it was crazy."

"Maybe it isn't so crazy after all."

"That's what I'm beginning to think."

"Whatever it is, it works," Ashley said softly. Bridget and Victoria looked at her. "You guys didn't hear them. They were using a lot of scary words like "capture" and "slave", but the really scary part was how into it they were. It was like they knew they were slaves and they didn't care. They liked it!"

After an oppressive silence, Victoria said, "Thank you, Ashley. You did the right thing bringing this to us so quickly. Go home and try to relax. But be very careful. Don't let yourself be alone with Leslie or Tammi."

"In fact," Bridget jumped in, "don't let yourself be alone with anyone, especially from The Association. Just be careful all the way around."

"I will," a scared looking Ashley said. She let herself out.

"Why did you tell her to stay away from the rest of us?" Victoria asked.

"Because it seems pretty clear those spells we've been having lately have to do with this Prof. Sawyer woman. Every time she gets one of us, we feel it," Bridget explained. "We know of two people who they've got, but I've felt 'it' three times. If I'm right, then we've got a problem because we don't know who number three is. It could be anyone."

"I agree."

Another silence, "So what are we going to do?"

"I've already called Maura back and told her I changed my mind," Victoria explained. Bridget assumed 'Maura' was the FBI agent mentioned before. "She said she'd get everything she could on this Prof. Sawyer and her mind control machine. In a couple of minutes, I'll call the heads of the other covens and let them know what is going on."

"What about Leslie and Tammi and whoever else? How are we going to help them?"

Victoria looked grim, "Until I hear back from Maura, I'm not sure there's anything we can do to help them."

"But ..."

"But what?" Victoria snapped, then caught herself. Bridget wasn't the problem here. "What are we supposed to do here? We don't really know what we're up against. It's obvious their plan is to pick us off piecemeal. If we go charging after them, we'll just be playing into their hands."

Bridget didn't say anything. The logic behind the strategy was solid, she just wasn't sure she agreed with the strategy in the first place. But it wasn't her call.

"The smartest thing to do right now, unfortunately, is the hardest thing," Victoria continued. "We wait to see what Maura can turn up and plan from there."

"Do you want me to call the other covens?" Bridget offered.

"No, that's something I should do. Why don't you go home, or back to your dorm. Just be careful. Hard as it can be sometimes, make sure you take your own advice." * * *

The advice, as it turned out, was solid. After class the very next day, as Bridget arrived at her dorm, she saw Leslie sitting on a bench near the building's front door. Bridget put her head down and spun around, hopeful Leslie hadn't seen her. No such luck.

"Hey, Bridget," Leslie's voice called from behind. Bridget took a deep, fortifying breath breath and turned around. Leslie jogged up. "How's it going?"

"Great, it's going great," Bridget lied. Gently she touched Leslie's mind. Normally, Leslie's thoughts were easy to read, but not now. The thoughts were still there, Bridget could still feel them, but it was as though they'd been encrypted. She could make no sense of them. It was unnerving.

"I had a second interview for that internship," Leslie lied herself, "and I thought I'd take you up on that rain check."

There was a strange buzz in Bridget's ears, distracting her, "Well, like I said before, I wish you'd called ahead. I'm really swamped."

"You can spare a little time for me," Leslie smiled.

"I really can't."

"C'mon!"

"I said no!" Bridget snarled. She felt light headed. The buzz in her ears had become a throb. "I'm serious Leslie. You can't keep just showing up like this. It isn't cute, it isn't sexy, it isn't cool, it isn't anything except a pain in the ass. It has to stop."

Bridget stomped away, ran her ID through the door's reader and let herself into her building, making sure to close the door behind her tightly. Leslie waited until Bridget was out of sight before she reached into her bag and shut off the control sphere. Then she called Prof. Sawyer.

"Did you get her?" Karen asked as soon as she picked up the phone.

"No, I couldn't get her alone," Leslie explained. "I tried keeping the sphere on and in my bag while I talked to her. It seemed to have an effect, but not enough."

"Too much background noise, probably."

"And there's something else. I think they know about us."

"Why do you say that?"

"Just the way Bridget acted when she saw me ... she doesn't usually get so worked up. She didn't want anything to do with me."

"Well, we knew they'd figure it out eventually," Karen said, "and if they do know, this is something we can use to our advantage. I think it's time for Plan B. Do you know how to get here?"

"Of course."

"How long will it take for you to get here?"

"I'll have to take the bus ... about 30 or 45 minutes."

"Make it 30 minutes."

"On my way." * * *

When she'd calmed herself to the point she could form a coherent thought, Bridget tried calling Victoria. The call dumped directly into voicemail, which meant Victoria was on another call. Eventually the phone rang before dumping into voicemail. Bridget didn't leave a message, she needed to see Victoria in person about this.

She peaked out her dorm room window, which gave her a clear view of the front of the building. Leslie was no where to be seen. Bridget headed out, then dashed to her car. If the traffic cooperated, she'd be at Victoria's in 15 minutes. * * *

She picked up the phone on the first ring, "Hello?"

"Victoria?"

It was a voice she'd not expected to hear, "Allie?"

"Victoria, I think I'm in trouble."

"What is it Allie, where are you?"

"At my parents place," Allie sounded like she'd been crying. "They're out of town for the week."

"Why aren't you at school?"

"That's just it. These really weird girls showed up in Florida last week. They said they were from around here and they wanted to talk with me ... but they totally freaked me out and I didn't want anything to do with them ... but they wouldn't leave me alone and they were everywhere I went ... it was like they were stalking me ... so I came back up here to get away ... and I just saw them walking up and down my street ... and I'm really, really scared."

Allie did start to cry and Victoria assured her things would be okay, over and over, until the girl was calm enough to ask, "Can I stay at your place, at least until my parents get back?"

"Of course."

"Thank you SO much ... I hate to ask you this, but can you come and get me?" Victoria didn't answer right away, so Allie continued, "I just don't want to go out there by myself."

Victoria agreed Allie going out by herself was a bad idea. The only question was who would go get her. She considered sending her driver, but she had no idea how dangerous these girls Prof. Sawyer had sent (and she was sure they were sent by Prof. Sawyer) were. She paid him to get her from Point A to Point B, not get entangled with things like this. So that left only one person.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," she promised.

Victoria dismissed her driver for the day. Allie's house was on the other side of town. Victoria drove the length of Allie's street to make sure the two mystery girls weren't around. Convinced the coast was clear, she did a u-turn and pulled into the driveway. Allie met her at the door.

"Thank you so much," Allie said earnestly. "Hurry, come in."

Victoria stepped in, "Let's go."

"I have to get my bag. Wait for me in the living room, you can watch the street from there."

Victoria went through the indicated doorway. Including Leslie and Tammi, there were six girls in there, clustered around a woman dressed simply in jeans and a sweatshirt.

"Oh Allie," Victoria whispered sadly.

Allie placed her hands on Victoria's shoulders, "It'll be okay, you'll see. In a few minutes, everything is going to make perfect sense."

The woman in the jeans said, "Victoria, it's so nice to meet you. We have a lot to talk about."

Prof. Sawyer stood. Victoria couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was, tall and fantastically proportioned with sandy brown hair and green eyes. The six other girls stood as well, and fanned out across the room.

"Yes, much to talk about indeed," Prof. Sawyer purred as she touched the top of a grey sphere on the coffee table. A soft hiss filled Victoria's ears. The women took a step towards her.

Victoria spun, grabbed Allie and threw her at Prof. Sawyer. She ran for the front door, getting far enough to reach touch it. She could feel the cool metal of the knob in her hand just before someone drove her head into the heavy wood of the door. She collapsed. Someone loomed over her.

"Bet you wish you'd listened to me now," Leslie hissed in her ear as she was pulled up. Three girls dragged Victoria back to the living room and placed her on the couch. The hiss she'd noticed before seemed to envelop her brain. Two girls held her arms down while a beautiful, busty brunette knelt down in front of her and pulled her still weak legs apart. The brunette produced a pair of scissors, reached into Victoria's skirt and snipped her panties away with two quick cuts of the waistband.

"Victoria, this is Dana. Dana, Victoria," Prof. Sawyer stepped into view. "Dana's going to explain to you how things are going to be from here on out before we have our little talk, but don't worry. She has a very pleasant way of expressing herself."

Dana smiled, and winked, and lifted Victoria's skirt. She began by kissing around the exposed lips, occasionally licking and nibbling, and despite herself, Victoria started getting wet. After a while Victoria discovered Allie had been right. Things suddenly made a great deal of sense. * * *

Bridget parked in her usual spot, noticing right away Victoria's BMW was gone. She waited in the library and did some schoolwork to pass the time, but she was in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water, when 'it' swept over her again, more powerful and nauseating than ever before. It felt like a giant, frozen hand had reached into her belly to squeeze her entrails between its clenched fingers. Doubled over with pain, she passed out.

She had no idea how long she'd been out, once she came to; she sensed it had been a little while. There was a crease in her cheek where her head had rested against the tile floor. Using the butcher block table as a crutch, she slowly got back on her feet and gulped down her water. She was pouring another glass when she looked out the window.

Two cars were pulling into the driveway: Victoria's and another Bridget didn't recognize. The unfamiliar car parked so as to block Bridget's car in, which Bridget thought was pretty rude considering there was plenty of room. Her indignation turned into surprise when the driver turned out to be Allie. Two women Bridget didn't recognize got out of the car with Allie and headed for the front door. Another woman Bridget didn't know was driving the BMW. Surprise turned into a paralysis when she saw Leslie and Tammi were with her.

"What are they doing here?"

"And how did they get Victoria's car?"

"And where is Victoria?"

". . ."

"Oh God!"

She ran, the first couple steps not knowing where she was going, aware only that she had to move. By the time she reached the hall, and full speed, she had a plan. The hall ran the width of the house, it would take her dangerously close to the front door, but it couldn't be helped. The hall flew past her in a claustrophobic blur. As she reached Victoria's office, she heard Leslie yell, "She went this way!"

Bridget slammed the door shut. There was no lock, so she pushed a heavy leather chair against the door, its top wedged under the doorknob. The door shook violently as someone slammed into it and the chair moved, but just barely. She'd bought herself a little time.

She looked at Victoria's desk and froze. There was so much she could grab and so much she should grab, but she only had time for what she had to grab. Another thump on the door, along with the groan of the chair legs sliding on the floor, broke her brain lock. The office door had opened a crack, enough for hands to slip in and push at the chair.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," Leslie yelled.

"Please, just open the door," Allie beseeched. "It'll be alright."

Bridget grabbed Victoria's ledger, the one she'd been referring to when they'd first discussed Prof. Sawyer. She stuck it under her shirt, grateful she'd decided to go loose and baggy today. There was another door on the other side of the office. She went through it and ran.

The hall bent 90 degrees to the left and went a short distance before terminating at one of the porches. At the bend, she pressed a discoloration on the wall, as Victoria had taught her. A section of the wall swung open to reveal a staircase leading down. The escape tunnel led to the river about 600 yards away. Bridget started down.

She stopped herself. The only other person, that she knew of, that knew about the tunnel was Victoria, and she still didn't know where Victoria was. Once she was in the tunnel, she was committed. It led to one place only and she wasn't 100% sure of what she'd find there. She'd have no room to run or maneuver. She went back up the stairs, but left the tunnel door open ... anything to distract the girls who'd soon be hot on her trail.




Worlds Colliding Ch. 03



A wall surrounded Victoria's property, far higher than Bridget could scale. But in the far corner of the property there was a tree tall enough to get her over. Bridget stepped onto the porch and looked around. No one was on the lawn and it didn't look like anyone was watching from the windows. She ran for the tree, leapt when she got there and scrambled up the branches. Once she was high enough, she vaulted to the top of the wall, then dropped down. A small wood separated the house from the river; Bridget headed for a trail leading into the forest. Once she was in, the trail forked. The path to the left ran along the river and came out near her house; she'd used this path hundreds of times as a shortcut to Victoria's. The path to the right ran to the river bank, near where the tunnel came out. And Bridget had to know.

She ducked down when she came within sight of the water, but even so she had a clear view of where the tunnel emerged. Victoria was there, with a tall, sandy haired woman. Prof. Sawyer, she presumed. The two of them were talking to Leslie, who gestured angrily at the tunnel. Victoria looked serious, Prof. Sawyer looked almost bemused. Bridget waited until the trio disappeared into the tunnel, then doubled back. At the fork she took the left path and ran for home. * * *

She caught her first break at the house; both of her parents were there. It would make what she had to do easier. She hated to do it, she'd sworn she'd never do it, but desperate times called for desperate measures. They were in the kitchen when she arrived, looking very surprised to see her.

"You know what," she said as she pushed on their minds, "I think you two deserve a vacation."

It broke her heart to watch them flinch as the idea took root.

"That's a good idea," her father said.

"Where should we go?" her mother asked.

"Weren't you two talking about a B&B up in Vermont?" The two looked at Bridget as if that were the most insightful thing they'd ever heard.

"I'll go pack a bag," her mother said.

"No!" Bridget yelled as she pushed again. "There's no time. You two can buy what you need on your way up."

They agreed, and she walked them to the door.

"Dad," she called quietly. Her father turned to face her. "Give me the emergency credit card."

He pulled out his wallet and handed over the VISA with the enormous credit limit and zero balance. Then he kissed her on the forehead.

"Don't go crazy with it, kiddo," he said.

After they'd driven away, she headed for the garage and pulled the tarp off her brother's old car; a '65 Chevy Impala, bright red. The only person in the world allowed to drive it, other than her brother, was her Dad and then only to make sure the thing still ran. Her Dad had taken it out the week before, and it still ran ... loudly. It could have been the most conspicuous car Bridget had ever seen and was totally ill suited for someone looking to make a quiet get away. In other words, it was perfect for what she had in mind. The keys were in the glove compartment. The engine turning over sounded like the end of the world. * * *

"They found her brother's car," Leslie announced as she walked into Victoria's office. Former office, was more like it. Prof. Sawyer had taken up station behind the big desk. Victoria now sat in the chair Bridget usually took.

"Where?"

"The airport."

Prof. Sawyer scratched her cheek. This bit of news was a mixed blessing. She had a thrall in the State Police command structure, and barely two hours after discovering Bridget and her family had cleared out of their house, they'd found one of the get away cars. Her network was becoming more and more efficient. On the other hand, if she'd been to the airport with a two hour head start, she could be anywhere by now. Unless ...

"Have they searched the airport for her?"

"They're doing it now, but nothing so far."

"Damn," Prof. Sawyer spat. "Where could she have gone?"

"She has a brother in Chicago," Victoria suggested.

Karen chewed on that. "Find out where this brother lives and send Madison to watch him. Let me know immediately if she turns up there."

"Will do," Leslie left.

Prof. Sawyer turned her attention back to Victoria, "You said there are how man women in this coven of yours?"

"We recruit as needed. Right now we're at 110," Victoria answered.

"And there are other covens like this?"

"Dozens of them."

"All over the world, you said?"

"That's right."

Karen smiled, "This keeps getting better and better." * * *

Bridget swayed as the train negotiated the corner. After parking her brother's car in a spot where she thought it would be found quickly, she'd taken the subway back into the city and to the train station. With any luck, they'd think she was halfway across the country instead of on a Metroliner somewhere in Connecticut. She flipped through the ledger. Though she'd found the call from the FBI agent Victoria had mentioned a few days ago, she kept going to make sure there's been no other contact. It looked like it had just been the first call and Victoria's eventual call back. Though the train was nearly empty, she took a look around to make sure no one was within earshot. Then she called the number Victoria had written down.

"Special Agent Maura Hunt."

"Maura, this is Bridget," she said coolly. "I used to work with Victoria."

Maura's tone was noticibly different when she realized it was someone from The Association on the line, "What do you mean 'used to'?"

"I mean Prof. Sawyer has gotten to Victoria."

"She ..."

"You know what I mean," Bridget cut her off. "You should also know this means Prof. Sawyer knows about you."

Maura swore softly. "We need to meet. Where are you?"

"On an Amtrak train, heading for New York."

"Okay. I'll hop a shuttle and get up there. Go to the Hotel Pennsylvania, it's right across the street from where your train comes in."

"No," Bridget replied. "I'm getting off before New York City. You know any places near Grand Central?"

"There's the Lexington Hotel."

"Fine. We'll meet there."

"Okay," Maura said. "Ask for me at the front desk. And be careful."

"Same to you," Bridget said as she hung up.

She spent the rest of the trip listing everyone she'd need to call, or arrange for. Catherine and Michelle were still in town, she called to let them know they needed to be careful. Ashley already knew, but she called anyway. Nadine was down at UVA and Jill was all the way out in California at Stanford; she didn't think Prof. Sawyer's people would go out there. Then again, they'd gone all the way to Florida for Allie. She made the calls. She had no idea where Connie was; she'd just have to hope for the best there.

Then there was her brother and Claire and her little nephew in Chicago. She couldn't just call to tell them about a psycho lesbian with a mind control device coming to enslave them. She called the coven in Chicago instead and was surprised by how little explaining she had to do before they agreed to keep an eye on Chris' family. Finally she called the New York coven and let them know she was on her way. When the train stopped in New Haven, she got off and hailed a taxi.



Worlds Colliding Ch. 04



All the standard disclaimers apply.

In the interests of citing one's sources, my definition for Behaviorism comes from Wikipedia.

***

When the knock on the door came, barely an hour after the warning phone call, and Asha saw who it was, she didn't try to hide her shock or her worry. She'd never been particularly good at masking her emotions, and even if she were, her visitor would have known anyway.

"I take it Victoria already called you?" Bridget asked.

"Leslie, actually," Asha explained. "She said I shouldn't be alone with you."

Bridget nodded, "We can talk in a nice, public spot ... whatever you like. But we need to talk. You going to tell them I was here?"

"That depends on what you tell me."

"Okay. Whatever they told you, take the opposite and you'll be a lot closer to the truth," Bridget began. "Victoria, Leslie, Allie and Tammi have all been taken over by this crazy woman. She's got this machine, I don't know how it works, and it controls people's minds. She's used it on them, and they'll be coming for you soon."

"You realize how crazy this sounds?" Asha took a look up and down the hall to make sure no one else heard how crazy it sounded. "They're saying you're the one who's crazy, and now you show up with a story like that. What am I supposed to think, Bridget?"

"I can prove it."

"How?"

"Come to New York City with me."

Asha gave Bridget a skeptical look, "Why would I do that?"

"Because New York is where the proof is. Because you aren't safe here. And," Bridget took a deep breath, "because right now I need all the friends I can get."

That got through. Asha's entire posture relaxed a bit, "I don't know ..."

"Look, I won't make you do anything," Bridget continued, "but I am going to New York, right now, with or with out you and I really think it is in your best interest to come with me. But that's for you to decide.

"While you're deciding, though, think about this; you know me, we're friends. Am I acting crazy? Do you honestly think I've snapped? And while we're at it, how much sense does it make that Leslie called to tell you about me?"

"It makes perfect sense," Asha replied. "It's the kind of thing you always did for Victoria and if you were out of the picture, of course she'd find someone else to do it."

"That's all true, but why Leslie?" Bridger asked. "You know what Victoria thinks of her. And Leslie is all the way up in New Hampshire. Why wouldn't she choose someone closer, like Tammi or Ashley ... girls we both know she likes better?"

"I don't know."

"I'll tell you why. Victoria isn't calling the shots anymore, that crazy woman is and Leslie is in all the way with her."

Asha bit at her lip, "Think about what you are asking me to do."

"I'm asking you to go to The City to see my proof. If I'm lying, it isn't like there won't be people around to help you. But if I am right, you'll be here all alone when they come to turn your brain into goo."

"Let me get my bag," Asha finally said.

They didn't speak during the cab ride to the commuter rail station. Bridget began her explanation on the station platform and continued it on the express train, stopping briefly as people walked by their seat. At Grand Central Station, Bridget noticed Asha made sure to stay a step or two behind as they walked. She couldn't blame her friend for being cautious.

The two crossed Lexington Avenue, and as had been arranged, Bridget asked for Maura at the front desk. The hotel worker called up and 15 minutes later, two women stepped out of the elevator, heading straight for Bridget and Asha. * * *

The first thing Maura noticed was how young these girls were ... they were practically children! Or maybe she was just getting old? One of the girls was Indian, short and dark skinned with big, sloe brown eyes, a beautiful, delicate face and a heap of wild black hair barely contained by the pins positioned haphazardly in the mass. She was dressed casually in jeans, fleece and black t-shirt. Despite her youth, or because of it, she was absolutely adorable ... which was unfortunate for her because her companion was truly stunning.

This girl stood a head taller than her friend, which made them both shorter than Maura. Her straight orange/red hair ran to her shoulders and contrasted beautifully with her pale skin and brilliant green eyes. Maura could tell by her lines and the way she carried herself this girl was athletic and strong, but she was still incredibly feminine. She was dressed as casually as her friend in jeans and a loose sweater; but the sweater was not so loose as to hide a pair of magnificent breasts that left Maura a little envious but mostly a little tingly between the legs.

"Bridget?" she asked.

The redhead stuck out her hand, "Maura?"

"How do you do," they shook. "This is Cynthia. She's the head of the New York Coven."

More hand shakes. Bridget said, "And this is my friend Asha, I think she can help us."

"Let's head up to Maura's room so we can ..." Cynthia began.

Asha cut her off, "Hold it. I'm not going anywhere yet."

She tossed her head at Maura, "You're supposed to be in the FBI? Let's see some ID."

Maura shrugged, reached into her jacket and pulled out her wallet, flipping it open to her photo ID. As Asha scrutinized it, she realized she had no idea how to tell a real FBI ID from a fake one, but the fact Maura had responded so quickly and casually led her to think this was legit. She looked at Cynthia.

"Unfortunately, they don't make identification for my position," Cynthia said regally. "You'll just have to take my word for it."

Bridget placed a hand on Asha's elbow, "It's okay."

The four went up to Maura's room, where Bridget explained what had happened, though she admitted she had no idea how Prof. Sawyer was doing what she was doing.

"To a certain extent, I can answer that," Maura said. She pulled a file with the Great Seal of the United States of America emblazoned on it from her satchel. It occurred to Bridget that it might be illegal for her to look at what was inside the file, though Maura didn't seem concerned. She dropped a stack of paper, bound together with a huge clip, on the table.

"It's called a control sphere. I don't claim to completely understand how it works, but it seems like subliminal messaging on steroids. It broadcasts a message into your brain at a frequency this Prof. Sawyer figured out bypasses all the filters we use to process data. Basically it pumps information directly into your head and, 30-60 minutes later, you do what the message tells you to do, without question or hesitation.

"Where did you get this stuff?" Bridget asked as she flipped through the pages.

"It was her proposal for a non-lethal weapon system 4 years ago."

Bridget put the stack down, "This is interesting, but how does it help us? I can't make heads or tails of any of this. Can you?"

No one could.

"Well, this is why I invited someone else to the meeting," Cynthia said, and at that moment there was a knock on the door. "Ahhh, perfect timing."

Cynthia stood and let another woman in. Trim and smart looking, she looked to be in her late 50's, "Everyone, this is Dr. Janice Selmon. Janice is a psychologist at the Atratyne Research Lab over in Florham Park."

Cynthia took her seat at the table. There being no where else to sit, Janice sat at the foot of the nearby bed.

"We were wondering if you'd ever heard of a Prof Karen Sawyer," Cynthia asked.

"Sure, everyone's heard of her, she's famous," Janice laughed slightly. "Infamous is more like it."

"What do you know about her?"

"You mean other than she's a lunatic?" Janice saw her joke had fallen flat. She assumed a more serious tone, "She made a big push into applied psychology a couple years back, made some pretty wild claims and backed them up with some even wilder theories. Let's just say she didn't survive the peer review process."

"Why's that?" Maura asked.

"Well, for one thing, she isn't a psychologist. She a physicist, if I remember correctly," Janice said. "And she took a pretty extreme approach to things. Basically, she's what we call a Behaviorist, and like most Behaviorists, she totally discounts any independent significance of the mind. She believes freewill is an illusion and that all behavior is determined by a combination of forces comprised of genetic factors and the environment either through association or reinforcement. Nothing wrong with that, so far; Behaviorism is a perfectly valid school of psychological thought. Her theory was that technology had now surpassed genetic factors and the environment in importance. To top it off, she said she was on her way to making a machine that would validate her theory."

"And that didn't go over well?"

Janice laughed again, "It's ridiculous on its face. Even if it were possible, the ethical problems of a machine that can manipulate behavior are pretty enormous. That isn't psychology, that's mind control."

Cynthia picked up the file and tossed it to Janice.

"What's this?" Janice asked.

"Prof. Sawyer's ethical problem."

Janice coughed skeptically as she read the overview. After a while, she flipped to a page deep in the pile, read quickly, then flipped back. 20 minutes later, Janice's eyes were wide open as she read, the silence in the room broken only by her occasional gasp of "Dear Lord!"

"Do you understand how it works?" Cynthia asked sternly.

"Sort of. I don't get the whole electronics end of it, the broadcast and frequency stuff isn't my field. But what she says it's all going to do agrees with a lot of the bleeding edge research out there," Janice looked up. The color had drained from her face. "You're saying this thing is real?"

"It's real, and she's used it," Cynthia confirmed. "She's used it on 4 members of Bridget's coven, including its head. It works all too well. What can we do to get our people back?"

"I don't know."

"There has to be something!"

"Maybe, but I don't know what it is. This is so far beyond anything I've ever seen or dealt with. I don't know where to begin," Janice could feel the panic leaking into her brain. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "There are two people back at the lab that could help. Can I show this stuff to them?"

Everyone looked at Maura, who asked, "Are they in The Association?"

"Yes."

Maura sighed. It was clear she didn't want to let the file out of her possession. "Okay, but be particularly careful with that."

"I will," Janice stuffed the file in her bag and left without bothering to say good bye.

No one moved, or said anything, at first.

"What if she can't fix Victoria and Tammi and the others?" Asha finally asked.

"Then we try something else," Cynthia said firmly. "I've called for an Augur. She'll be here tomorrow."

"What's an Augur?" Asha whispered to Bridget.

"They're sort of like Janice, actually. They experiment with the magic, figure out how it works and come up with new spells as needed," Bridget whispered back.

"There's a bit more to it than that," Cynthia smiled slightly. "But that's close enough."

"Why tomorrow?" Maura asked. "We're in trouble now."

"There aren't that many of them. Victoria told me you could count all of them on one hand," Bridget said. "Who knows where the closest one is?"

"Actually, there are seven," Cynthia corrected, "and the closest one is in LA, which is why we wait until tomorrow."

Cynthia walked to the door, "My advice to you would be to stay in and order room service. Do not go out, and if you find you have to, do not go alone. Stay together at all times. I'll be back tomorrow." * * *

There was only one bed in the room. Bridget slept in the tub, and slept poorly at that. She got up a couple times, over the course of the night, and sat by the window to stare at the city. It was so unfair, trapped in what was the most exciting city in the world and she was stuck in a hotel room without a bed of her own. There were a lot of things unfair about the whole situation. Asha slept on the floor and Maura slept in the bed, which was only fair because she was paying for the room. Neither of them seemed to have a problem falling asleep. It was 3:30a before she was tired enough for the sleep to take hold. It felt like she'd barely closed her eyes before someone was shaking her awake. Maura stood above her.

"Cynthia's here," she said.

Bridger stepped out of the bathroom. Cynthia was indeed back, and she'd brought Janice with her. Maura and Asha were rooting through some clothing piled on the bed.

"I brought you a change of cloths," Cynthia explained. She handed Bridget a plastic bag, "and a Care Package ... there's soap, shampoo, deodorant, some make-up...

"And this," she continued, "is Irina."

The Augur was not what Bridget had expected. Irina looked barely older than Bridget, in her late 20's at most, and painfully thin. She wore a newsboy cap, a curl of jet black hair obscured her left eye. A nose ring glinted in the morning light. She had on a ragged white t-shirt and a fitted wool jacked, neither of which was long enough to cover her defined abs or bellybutton ring. Her skirt was short, almost indecently so, as opposed to her long, black stockings which went halfway up her thin legs, all the way to her knees. On her feet were a pair of ratty, red Converse Chuck Taylors, loosely tied.

Irina nodded, "Hey."

"Uhhhh, Hi," Bridget said.

The women gathered around the table, with Janice on the bed again. Bridget leaned against a wall.

"Okay," Cynthia called the meeting to order. "Janice, what have you got?"

"We worked all night and I am sorry to say we don't have much," Janice grumbled as she handed the file back to Maura. "We're still not sure how the thing works, precisely."

"Can we get Victoria and the others back?" Maura asked.

"I don't know."

"When will you know?"

"I have no idea," Janice admitted. "It could be quite a while."

Cynthia exhaled, her disappointment evident, "Okay, what do you have?"

"Given the output of its power source, this is what we know: It has about a 20 foot range, it requires a fairly quiet environment to work, and we have this," Janice placed a small plastic device on the table. It was about the size and shape of a cigarette lighter, with an LED display.

"What is it?" Maura asked.

"We know what frequency the control sphere broadcasts at," Janice said. "This will display three dashed if it finds that frequency within a 20 foot radius. Basically, it's a control sphere detector."

"That's all well and good," Asha said, "but how are we going to get our people back?"

"I may be able to help with that," Irina said. Reaching into the breast pocket of her jacket, she tossed a black ceramic square, two inches on a side, on the table.

"What is this?"

"Instant induction," Irina said, a gleam in her eyes. "You give a girl an orgasm with this little baby around and she's ours ... and it's good for three uses!"

"Do we know if it will work on the girls Prof Sawyer got?" Bridget asked.

"One way to find out."

"Okay, let's say it works. How long before we can get more of these?"

"There are no more."

The air rushed out of the room, "Excuse me?"

"There are no more."

"You said this thing had three uses?"

"Yup."

"We've lost four girls," Bridget pointed out. Irina shrugged.

"So what good is it?" Asha exploded.

"Well, first of all," Irina enunciated as if Asha were an idiot, "it would be good to know if we can get them back at all, don't you think? If we can, I'll figure out how to do it again. That good enough for you, sunshine?"

Asha looked like she was going to explain exactly why she didn't think it was good enough, but Bridget stopped her, "She's right, we need to figure out if we can even get our people back, and we have enough here for a plan. One of us needs to go back up there, get one of them alone and see if this ... square ... works. Whoever goes can use this thing Janice came up with to make sure they aren't using one of those control spheres. The only question is, which one of us goes?"

Everyone spent an uncomfortable moment looking at each other.

"I'll do it."

Everyone looked at Asha.

"It's the only thing that makes sense. None of them will go anywhere near Bridget without one of those control spheres. Can't send Cynthia because we've already lost one coven head. We can't send Maura because she's got kids, for God's sake. We can't send the Spice Girl here because, ooohhhhh," Asha sarcastically waved her hands in the air, "there are only seven of her in the whole world. And we can't send Janice because, nothing personal, she's a little old for their tastes. So that leaves me. I'm probably on their list anyway and Tammi's my best friend so she won't think twice about seeing me. I'll go, I'll get Tammi and if it works, I'll bring her back."

Cynthia looked at her watch, "A train leaves in two hours."

Asha showered, and given the circumstances, was allowed first choice of the clothes Cynthia brought. They all walked her to Penn Station to see her off. Maura and Bridget went back to the hotel. Janice, Irina and Cynthia left from the station.

"How long, do you think, before we know?" Maura asked once they were in the room.

"Four hour train trip, an hour to get to Tammi's place, figure another hour or two if Tammi isn't home ... sometime tonight at the earliest."

Bridget stretched, then pulled her sweater off, "God, I reek! I'm going to take a shower."

She stripped down in the bathroom, ran the water as hot as she could stand and let it flow over her. She was shampooing when the bathroom door opened a crack.

"Bridget, I'm going to run to a pizza place I know around the corner, you want anything?" Maura called.

"Cynthia said we shouldn't go anywhere by ourselves."

"It'll be okay. It's less than a block away and I'll be right back."

Bridget thought it over, "Bring me back a plain slice."

She finished the shower, and dried herself. She didn't bother with her hair, she wasn't going anywhere anyway. Wrapping a fresh towel around her body, she stepped into the room to pick out something to wear.

Someone was in the corner, by the table; Bridget saw her out of the corner of her eye. She screamed, then arms were wrapped around her. The two tumbled to the bed. She thrashed, trying to break free, the arms wrapped her up tighter.

"It's me, it's me," Maura yelled, hugging Bridget close, trying to calm her. When Bridget stopped struggling, she said softly, "I forgot my wallet ... I just came back to get it."

They lay on the bed, holding each other until Bridget started to laugh. But she was still trembling. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Maura assured her. "It's my fault. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I guess it's all starting to get to me."

"It's okay."

Bridget looked up, "If this thing with Asha goes bad, if they get her, it's all over. You know that?"

"It occurred to me. But it hasn't gone bad yet," Maura said. She ran her hand up and down Bridget's back. The towel had come loose, her hand drifted all the way down to Bridget's naked behind. She pulled her hand back, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Bridget whispered and pulled Maura close. Her head rested in the crook of Maura's neck. She could feel Bridget's breath, then her lips.

"Bridget," Maura whispered.

"It's okay," Bridget repeated. The lips became more urgent. Maura was rolled on to her back.

"We shouldn't," Maura murmured.

"Why not?" Bridget asked. She was on top of Maura now, their mouths drifting closer and closer, and Maura suddenly couldn't think of an objection. Bridget gripped the lapels of Maura's jacket, pulling together as they kissed.. Maura's hands slid over the curve of Bridget's naked ass. Maura could still feel Bridget trembling as their jaws worked and their tongues thrust. Bridget lifted up, grabbed the towel sandwiched between them and threw it aside. Maura was thrilled to see Bridget's nakedness was as glorious as she'd hoped.




Worlds Colliding Ch. 04



Bridget's fingers flew down Maura's chest, unbuttoning the white blouse. Maura sat up slightly, pumping her arms to get her jacket off, bringing their faces close, their mouths desperately seeking to make and keep contact. The blouse and jacket came free. Maura did her bra herself, massaging her breasts as Bridget efficiently removed the rest of her cloths.

Bridget liked what she saw. Maura carried a few extra pounds, but it was packed in all the right places, so it gave her a womanly, zaftig quality. He jet black hair hung in loosely permed ringlets that just touched her shoulders. Her round face was framed by wide set, blue eyes and a full, sensual mouth. Hard, horny red nipples, set atop medium sized breasts, clashed with her smooth, milky skin. The waist flared inwards under the ribs then back out, lushly, at the hips. Maura's thighs were strong and thick; not lingerie model perfect but they worked for her. Those thighs opened like an invitation to reveal a sodden, close trimmed pussy.

Bridget locked her body to Maura's, breasts mashed together, hips moving side to side. Their twats slid against each other easily, creating a wet friction. The two moaned and gasped into the other's ear every time their clits touched. They fucked like that until Maura came, calling out to God. Then Bridget, without a word, pivoted and still on top, gave Maura's cunt her tongue. Maura matched the gesture. Bridget's bald pussy seemed to emphasize her youth, making the whole act seem even more forbidden. Maura licked at it again. She'd never been so wet in all her life.

The two settled into a rhythm, rocking back and forth as they serviced each other. Groaning, smacking, sighing they licked and sucked faster and faster. Now Bridget orgasmed with a violent shudder and a cry that was stifled by Maura's twat. Her lips found the distended clit, her fingers pistoned into Maura's weeping folds and the older woman came again, even harder than she had before. The exhortations slowed, then finally stopped and Bridget rolled off Maura. They lay on the bed, head to foot, panting as though they'd run a great distance.

"That was ... incredible," Maura groaned as she snuck a look at the alarm clock. They'd been fucking for four hours.

Bridget popped herself up on her elbows, smiling, her face a blissful glow, "You are a dirty girl!"

"You don't know the half of it," Maura laughed.

"In that case, it's time to get you cleaned up," Bridget took Maura by the hand and led her to the bathroom. She started the shower. The two stepped in.

Gently, they fingered each other under the spray. Staring into each other's eyes, Bridget took the soap and passed it slowly over Maura's body, then allowed Maura to do the same to her. Positioning their twats on the other's thigh, they rubbed their bodies together. Covered now in lather, Bridget rubbed it into Maura's hair, underarms, breasts, ass.

Bridget maneuvered Maura under the spray. Slowly and thoroughly she rinsed the older woman off, starting at the top and working her way down, ending on her knees kissing and licking at Maura's bubble butt. Maura turned and leaned against the tile wall. Bridget's mouth found Maura's cunt again.

"Oh, yes, yes, YES!!!! I'm CUMMING! AAAHHH!" Maura screamed, her hands gripping Bridget's head, pulling her in as far as she could.

The water was beginning to run cold. They stepped out and, towels in hand, dried the other. Maura concentrated on Bridget's breasts; once they were dry she wrapped her lips around a small, hard nipple and suckled. Bridget gathered Maura's head in her arms and crushed her to her chest.

Back at the bed, Maura lay down and let Bridget straddle her, one knee on either side of her head. Bridget made her wait, just for a second. Maura looked up to see the redhead smiling impishly. Gripping the headboard, Bridget lowered herself.

It didn't take long, in part because neither was inclined to wait. Maura savaged Bridget's cunt, sucking on the clit as quickly as her lips would allow. Bridget shook back and forth, rattling the headboard and the entire bed. She came with a groan, as though she'd been punched in the stomach, and fell to the bed. Maura spooned up behind her. They were asleep quickly. * * *

At Penn Station, Asha had raised a practical concern.

"What if I can't?"

"Can't what?" Cynthia had asked.

"You know," Asha rapidly flicked her tongue between her lips.

"Is this usually a problem for you?" Irina asked.

"Let's just say that the thought of my zombified best friend doesn't exactly put me in the mood," Asha muttered. "And if I'm not in the mood, I may not have my "A-game" on me. And you were the one who said Tammi needed to have an orgasm to make this work."

This time, Irina reached inside her jacket. She handed Asha a small bag, "Just put one of those on your tongue and let it dissolve. Believe me, in a few seconds, you'll be ready to do anything with a pulse."

On the train now, and out of curiosity, Asha opened the bag Irina had given her. It was filled with dried leaves with some sort of reddish powder on them. They looked like vegetarian Doritos.

The ride seemed to take forever, yet its end came too soon. The subway line she needed had a stop in the train station, so after only a brief delay, she was back on her way. She had trouble sitting still; out of nervousness she tapped her feet and drummed her hands on her knees. A twisting sensation, worse than any cramp she'd ever had, formed in her belly, growing the closer she got to Tammi's.

The walk from the stop to the apartment was difficult. The sidewalks had been indifferently shoveled, and her legs felt rubbery. Over the two block walk, she'd stumbled three times. Her hands shook as she pressed the buzzer to Tammi's building.

Nothing happened.

She pressed the buzzer again, still nothing.

"Well, that's just great!"

Asha sat down on the stone step, her ass freezing almost instantly.

"At least it's dry," she grumbled.

She tried reading her book, but the daylight was fading and the streetlight was nowhere near bright enough. After 45 minutes she walked to a nearby Dunkin Donuts to get a coffee and warm up a bit. She thought about calling Tammi, but decided all that would do was increase the likelihood she'd show up with someone else and a control sphere. Asha walked back, tried the buzzer again and got now answer. She sat back down, sipped her coffee and tried not to think about all the ways this could go wrong.

Tammi showed up an hour later. Asha heard the footsteps clicking down the sidewalk and she somehow knew it was her friend. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the detector Janice had given her. The screen was clear; so far so good. Tammi stopped short when she saw who was on her step.

"Surprise," Asha croaked.

"What are you doing here?" Tammi stepped forward, arms extended. They hugged.

"I'm going to visit the units," she said, using her nickname for her 'parental units', "and I thought I'd drop by and say 'Hi'."

"I'm so glad you did," Tammi enthused. "Let me drop some stuff off and I'll give you a ride."

"Sounds good, but can we hang out a bit so I can warm up?"

"Sure."

Tammi led the way into the building and up the stairs. In the apartment, Asha snuck another look at the detector ... everything was still clear. Tammi walked down a hall, heading for her bedroom.

"Do you need to be at your parent's place right away," she yelled.

"No, not right away," Asha pulled out the bag Irina had given her, as well as the square. She slipped one of the leaves into her mouth. It dissolved almost instantly. She held the square tightly.

"Before I drop you off, let's swing by a friend of mine's place. I think you'll really like her."

Asha walked into the bedroom. Tammi was hunched over her desk reading something, her back to Asha. The square went under one of the pillows under the bed. Then Asha felt like a blast furnace door had been opened in front of her. Everything about her seemed hypersensitive, she could feel a sheen of sweat forming on her body, her nipples tightened, the tingle in her pussy that seemed about to turn into an inferno.

Tammi was still bent over the desk, as if she were presenting her beautiful ass. Asha came up behind, fitting her body to Tammi's. It felt so damn good. He hands slid along her friend's hips to undo the fly of her jeans.

"What are you doing?" Tammi asked playfully.

"Warming up?" Asha pulled the zipper open.

"It'll be more fun at my friend's place."

"Later," one hand slid into Tammi's panties, the other gently kneaded one of her large breasts, "we haven't been alone in such a long time."

Tammi turned and they kissed. Asha could feel her friend's hands fumbling with her belt, then unhooking the clasp of her pants. The garment puddle at her feet. Tammi's hand was between her legs.

"Wow, you're soaked," Tammi marveled.

"I've been thinking about this all day," Asha replied, which was true so far as it went.

Asha kicked off her shoes as she removed Tammi's shirt and unhooked the bra. Her mouth alternated, one nipple to the other, as Tammi cooed and ran her hands through Asha's hair. Then Tammi dropped to her knees, pulling down Asha's simple white panties as she did. She kissed all around the wet lips, but when she tried to lick, Asha stepped back. Tammi was pulled to her feet and they kissed again, hands roaming, touching, probing.

Asha led Tammi to the bed and laid her down, Tammi's head coming to rest on the pillow hiding the square. Asha slowly pulled her fleece off, then her tee. On the bed, Tammi wiggled out of her jeans. Asha reached behind and unhooked her bra. With a roll of her shoulders, the bra fell away. She was naked now, as was Tammi. She held up her breasts, one in each hand, squeezed them, pulled on her nipples, her lust running down her legs, as Tammi teased her own clit. They stared at each other, toughing themselves, letting their desire take control. Tammi opened her legs and Asha crawled on to the bed. She lowered herself on to her friend, their mouths and cunts coming together.

Tammi's hands came to Asha's butt, guiding her as the rubbed together, her gasps of pleasure spurred Asha on, eliciting gasps from Asha as well. They kissed. Then Asha reared up, lifting her chest, allowing Tammi to suckle at her breasts. Their legs entwined. Tammi hummed as she tasted Asha's skin and sweat. Tammi fell back and Asha fell on her. They kissed again. Asha thrust faster. Tammi kissed her way to Asha's ear.

"So nice," she panted. "Sooooo good."

Asha thrust faster, lifting herself up on her elbows for momentum. She panted with effort, their breasts jiggling together divinely. Tammi was making sharp, squeaking noises, "Yi ... Yi ... Yi!" as she always did when she was really turned on. Asha steadily kissed her way down Tammi's body, and Tammi knew where she was heading.

"Yes ... yes ... do it!"

Tammi's pussy was puffy and wet, like a freshly plucked piece of fruit. Asha ran the tip of her tongue along the slit. Tammi's entire body jerked. Asha licked again and again Tammi responded. She licked over and over, each time more forcefully, until her mouth, her chin and her lips had forced their way into Tammi's snatch. The Korean girl humped herself against Asha's face, squealing incoherently as she did. Her back arched, then she went rigid. With a scream and a violent shudder, she spasmed on Asha's tongue. Asha kept licking. Tammi collapsed to the bed. She took two deep, slow breaths, then bolted upright.

"Oh ... my ... God!"

Tammi began to sob. Asha scrambled up and held her close. They swayed back and forth as Tammi wept, clinging to Asha. It went on like that for a while.

"It's okay now," Asha whispered. "It's alright."

"No it isn't," Tammi cried. "You don't know what happened. You don't know what I did."

"Yes we do," Asha said quietly. "We know all about Prof. Sawyer."

"You do?" Asha nodded. "Who's 'we'?"

"Me, Bridget and a few people from the New York coven helping us."

"New York? They think Bridget is in Chicago."

"So much the better for us."

"How did you do this?"

Asha reached under the pillow and pulled out the square, "This. The woman who gave it to us called it 'instant induction'."

Tammi paused, searching for the right words, "That's strange, but I don't feel like I did when I was inducted. I don't feel connected to that ... woman ... anymore, but I feel like I did before we went to Rome."

"She said it would induct you."

"But it had to get past whatever that woman did to me. Maybe you need to do it again. How does it work?"

"You definitely want to come back?"

"Definitely," Tammi nodded.

They kissed. * * *

Maura was standing in front of the mirror, putting her clothes back on, when the phone rang. She moved quickly to get it, so Bridget wouldn't wake up, and was surprised to see the red head reach for the phone.

"Uh-huh ... okay ... that's good. Get back here and we'll figure out what to do next."

She hung up. Maura sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Was that Asha?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

Bridget smiled, and sat up. She kissed Maura happily, "We're back in the game!"



Worlds Colliding Ch. 05



All the standard disclaimers apply.

*

When Asha delivered Tammi to the rest of the women ensconced at the Hotel Pennsylvania, Bridget thought the whole thing should have been more ... joyous. There were hugs. There were tears. Everyone took a turn convincing Tammi what had happened wasn't her fault, and after a while she seemed to believe them. And after that, there was even some laughter. As she watched the whole thing unfold, Bridget came to realize the joy wasn't lacking in the scene, it was lacking in her.

She wasn't the only one to notice.

"Are you okay?" Maura asked. Bridget shrugged. "What's wrong?"

"I'm wondering what we've really accomplished here."

"We know we can get out people back."

"And they probably know it by now as well," Bridget said. "I'd feel better about it if I didn't feel like we've shot our wad."

Maura blinked, "This was your idea, remember?"

"I do. I suggested it because I thought we needed to do something, and now we've done it," Bridget exhaled heavily. "What's got me worried is what to do next."

Maura gave Bridget's hand a reassuring squeeze, "Janie will be here tomorrow and we'll see what she's come up with. Maybe she'll have good news?"

The news the next day was more "mixed" than "good". Janice had barely entered the room, she hadn't even had a chance to settle herself, before she was assaulted with the one question on everyone's mind.

"Have you figured out how to get our people back?"

Janice looked like she felt; like someone who hadn't slept in days. She dropped her bag wearily on the bed and sighed, "No."

"When will you know?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "We think we understand how it works ... we just aren't sure why. The truth is, it could be quite a while."

The disappointment in the room was tangible.

"We know the squares work," Asha said. "What I don't understand is why we can't use those?"

"I told you, I don't have anymore," Irina replied.

"Get some."

"There aren't any."

"Then make some," Asha snarled.

"I don't know how," Irina's voice cut an edge as well.

"How can you not know how?" Asha was almost yelling now. "You're the Augur!"

The normally combative Irina visibly wilted as the group's collective disappointment suddenly focused on her, "You guys don't seem to understand what I do. I'm like a librarian. I keep the books, I organize the book, I learn everything I can about the books. But none of that is the same as writing the books.

"The square is an heirloom, an antique. It's almost as old as The Association. When Cynthia told me what was going on out here, I brought it along because I thought it might come in handy. And it did, I might add, but that's all it's good for ... something handy. It'd be great if I had more, but I don't. I'm sorry."

"And the news isn't entirely bad," Janice jumped in. She held out her hand. In her palm was a small hearing aid, which she placed on the table. "For lack of a better term, this is a Personal Control Sphere Nullifier."

"How does it work?" Cynthia asked.

"Turn it on and stick it in your ear," Janice explained. "It goes deep in the ear canal, so someone would really have to be looking for it to find it. It broadcasts at frequency that should block out the control sphere."

Maura reached under the table to give Bridget's hand a quick squeeze, "That is good news!"

"So what do we do with it?" Irina asked.

"It still doesn't get our people back," Asha pointed out. "That's the real problem."

"It gets us a step closer," Bridget whispered. An idea was forming; it was as though speaking too loudly would scare it away. The others looked at her. Bridget continued, filling in the details as she went, "Remember, a couple years back, when Catherine was having all her problems, right after we got back from Rome? Victoria did her thing, and found Michelle, then Michelle and Catherine lived happily ever after? We inducted Michelle in Victoria's house."

Asha and Tammi nodded ... they'd been there.

"We don't need more squares. We need the house because that's where they all are anyway. Can you teach me what Victoria did?"

Cynthia said she could.

"Then that's it. I go up there, do what Victoria did and bag them all, all at once."

"I see where you're going with this, but there's one problem," Cynthia pointed at the hearing aid. "Even if you have one of these, there's no way they'll let you near any of the things you'll need or hand around long enough to do the things you'll need to do."

"They will if I'm one of them."

"Excuse me?"

"I go up there, I pretend I'm there to try and negotiate with them and I let them do their thing," Bridget explained. "Then I do my thing."

She turned to Janice, "You're sure this will protect me?"

"I'm sure," Janice said, sounding anything but.

"Sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Pretty sure?"

"Really ... pretty ... sure," Janice trailed off. "Look, this control sphere thing seemed to be based on conditioned responses; you do what Prof. Sawyer says and you feel good as a reward and then you end up like Pavlov's dogs. These rewards are intricately tied to sexual stimuli. When we mocked up the nullifier, one of our basic assumptions was you'd be doing everything in your power to get away from her, not having sex with her. If that's what you're doing, then I can't promise anything ..."

"And there's something else," Tammi piped in. "You don't know what it's like up there. You don't know what she's doing! There's dozens of women up there right now, they're coming in and out all day. She made us all stay naked when we were in the house ... it was like a 24 hour orgy ... "

A violent shudder passed though her, "And then there were the things she made us do ... to ourselves and to each other ... it was sick ... disgusting ... she made us perform for her ... and we were into it. We were so messed up in the head we used to fight each other to do all the perverted things she thought up. Oh God!"

Tammi bolted from the table, heading for the bathroom. They listened in silence as she coughed and gagged, everyone taking pains to avoid looking at anyone else. Eventually, Asha left the table. They could hear her soothing her friend. They came out from the bathroom a few minutes later.

"Sorry," Tammi said sheepishly, though she did sound a little better. "My point is we were able to do all those things because she'd fucked with our heads ..."

"... her and Leslie, that little cunt!" Tammi muttered with enough heat to burn the air out of everyone's lungs.

"... and that's the way you have to act. Whatever she says, you do it, without hesitation. I don't know how a normal person could do that. If you do hesitate, she'll know you're faking it, and I don't know what she'll do then. She's capable of anything."

Bridget nodded. Tammi's point was irrefutable, "I don't doubt any of that. If anyone has a better idea, believe me, I am all ears!"

No one had a better idea. Bridget snatched the hearing aid from off the table, in case someone tried to stop her that way.

"Then it's settled, I'm going tomorrow," she said.

Maura sighed, long and sadly, "I'll go with you."

"Absolutely not," Bridget insisted. "We only have one nullifier. In fact, as soon as I leave, you all need to check out, get out of this hotel, and don't tell me where you're going. If this doesn't work .."

Her voice caught.

"... if this doesn't work," she continued, "you'll have to assume I've told them everything. And then they'll come for all of you. It won't be safe here. Just get out and try to put together a Plan B."

For a long while, no one spoke. Cynthia found her voice first, "Is there anything we can do for you right now?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," Bridget forced herself to smile. "I've been cooped up in this room for almost a week. I want to go to Little Italy tonight and have a really good dinner. Then I want to go to the Knicks game and I want GREAT seats."

Cynthia smiled and dipped her head modestly, "I can do that." * * *

Prof. Karen Sawyer didn't like loose ends, and that is what this Bridget character had become. The thought of the girl gnawed at her. Her plan, her dream, was so close to fruition, so close to being reality. Because it was so close was precisely why it needed her undivided attention. But thoughts of Bridget were a constant distraction.

Sawyer assumed Tammi's sudden and complete disappearance was Bridget's doing. She'd wasted too much precious time on whether The Association, working through Bridget, had somehow figured out a way to deprogram Tammi. She decided it was unlikely before deciding it was irrelevant. Losing a single girl was nothing. But it hinted at other, nasty surprises The Association might spring, so it continued to weigh on her.

She flipped through the latest progress report from the engineers at Mericon. Her calculating side knew this was the real solution to the Bridget problem. The latest version of the control sphere, one that would work over a radio and TV signal, was almost ready. And once she had that, there'd be no stopping her. She had her people on the broadcast side already in place, all they needed was a working sphere.

But the little problems cropping up on the engineering side were vexing. They needed help ... they needed her. And she was wasting her time on a redheaded college sophomore with a talent for soccer and getting out of tight spots. It was maddening.

Chicago was looking more and more like a dead end. Bridget hadn't shown up, nor had she made any attempt to contact her brother. Given the Tammi development, Sawyer was convinced Bridget was no where near the Windy City. So where was she, and what was she up to?

And then the problem solved itself.

Victoria entered what used to be her study and genuflected before the woman sitting in what used to be her chair.

"The guard at the front gate just called," she said.

"And?"

"Bridget's down there. She says The Association wants to talk." * * *

The guard at the front gate had stopped Bridget before she'd taken two steps onto the property.

He sounded apologetic, "Sorry, Miss. Ms. Tastick says I can't let you in anymore without her permission."

"It's okay, Chuck. I understand."

"I'll call up to the house."

"I'll wait right here."

Chuck emerged from the shack a minute later, "They're sending someone down."

"No problem," the two waited quietly. The Bridget said, "Lot of changes around here lately, I'll bet."

"You can say that again."

"What do you think?"

"Ms Tastick doesn't pay me to think, just to watch the gate." From the way he said it, Chuck didn't think much of the changes.

Leslie appeared a minute later, along with two girls Bridget didn't recognize. The raven haired girl motioned for Bridget to follow. The foursome walked in silence most of the way.

As they reached the front door, Bridget asked, "I wonder if it ever bothers you, what you've done to all the people who've only tried to help you?"

"Never," Leslie replied curtly.

"I didn't think so."

It had only been a week since Prof. Sawyer had conquered Victoria's house, but the changes were profound. The sent of female arousal was everywhere; and underlying that Bridget detected entropy and decay. She suspected no serious attempt to clean the place had been made recently. And Tammi had been right. There were dozens of women in the mansion, young and old, all of them beautiful, all of them coupling, trebling, and so on, in energetic and creative combinations Bridget counted six distinct sexual encounters in plain sight before she gave up. From the sound of things, much more was going on out of sight. She was led to the study. Victoria was there, along with Allie. Prof. Sawyer was at the desk. A control sphere sat conspicuously to the Professor's left. Bridget knew it had been turned on by the static hiss that crept into her hearing.

"Ah Bridget, a pleasure to finally meet you," Prof. Sawyer said grandly.

"The pleasure is all yours, I'm sure."

"Bridget!" Victoria chided. She sounded horrified, "Don't be rude!"

Bridget shot Victoria a look that made it clear Victoria was not a party to the conversation before turning back to Sawyer, "The Association has authorized me to open negotiations with you."

"Unless they're offering their surrender, there's nothing to negotiate."

The hiss was getting louder. Bridget hadn't bothered to ask if this was how the nullifier was supposed to work. She'd focused mainly on what Cynthia had taught her about using the house as part of her plan. Silently cursing her carelessness, she said, "That would be a mistake. We're perfectly capable of defending ourselves."

"If that were the case, you wouldn't be here," Sawyer replied. "Besides, after we convert you, I'll know everything I need to about your little Association's so called defenses."

Hands began to flit over her body. Despite herself, Bridget could feel the beginnings of arousal. She forced herself to keep her gaze on Sawyer, "You're making a big mistake."

"A threat without the strength to back it up is nothing but bravado, and I don't have the patience for bravado," Sawyer said dismissively. "You're the one who's made the mistake. Take her."

The hands were gently no longer; they pulled her to the floor. Allie loomed over her.

"Don't fight it, Bridget, you can't win," she pleaded. "It feels wonderful. Let us show you."

Bridget clamped her eyes shut. One of the skills Victoria had taught her was walling her thoughts off as a defense against telepathy. She concentrated of her mental barriers, isolating her growing sexual need from the rest of her mind. The girls that now surrounded her concentrated their attacks on her pants, struggling to peel the garment from her body. Bridget fought them, but she knew it was a battle she couldn't win.

Two girls held her arms down. There was nothing she could do to stop the others from loosening her button fly. She kicked and thrashed. Two more grabbed her legs, pushing them together. Another pushed down on her chest, holding her in place and roughly groping her breasts in the process. The jeans were pushed off her hips. Bridget twisted on the floor, as much as the combined strength of the other girls would allow. Slowly the pants made their way down her thighs. When they reached her knees, she could offer no effective resistance. The trousers were quickly removed at that point, then the girls holding her legs pulled them apart. Her panties were simply ripped away. The hiss was louder now, it sounded like the roar of a high wind. Bridget concentrated on erecting her barriers. The hands on her breasts went away and she felt a body lying atop her. She opened her eyes.

"I'm going to enjoy this," Leslie whispered hatefully. She inched her way down Bridget's body.

When she felt Leslie's tongue on her pussy, Bridget prayed for strength. A few minutes later, she came.

Her struggle, and her subsequent orgasm, had left her exhausted. It took a long, few minutes for her strength to return. When it finally did, she stood up. Her legs felt as weak as a newborn colt's. She quickly removed her blouse and bra, and bowed submissively to Prof. Sawyer.

"I live to serve you," she panted.



Worlds Colliding Ch. 06



The view of the hill hadn't changed in the three days since they'd come to Albany; Maura was long since past wondering why she bothered looking. She, along with Tammi and Asha had retreated to Albany because it gave the easiest access to where Bridget was. Just hop in the car and they'd be with her in three hours time. But Bridget hadn't called, there'd been no contact at all since she'd left to confront Prof. Sawyer. And Albany wasn't an entertainment Mecca, which left Maura little to do but stay in her hotel and occasionally stare out the window at the hill which dominated the center of town.

"No news is good news," she whispered. "No news is good news."

Maura shuffled back to the bed, threw herself onto the mattress, turned on the TV and groaned when she saw what was on. If she ever, at any point in her life, saw the Oprah Winfrey show again, it would be too soon. She turned her head and stared at her cell phone, willing it to ring. Anything to relieve the monotony.

There was one thing she could do. Tammi and Asha were sharing a room at the end of the hall and they'd said if she got "bored, or lonely or anything" she could drop by and "hang out" with them. Maura had known exactly what they'd meant and she'd been flattered. It was nice to know she still had it. To this point, she'd held out because she wanted to be ready to go at a moment's notice.

"And why is that?" she asked herself, because it now occurred to her that if Bridget had been captured by Prof. Sawyer, Bridget wasn't going to call and announce the fact. And if Bridget did call to say their plan had succeeded, how would she know Bridget was telling the truth? How could she really, 100% know? If Bridget had been enthralled by Prof. Sawyer, she would not hesitate to sell her, Tammi and Asha all the way down the river. The more she thought about it, Maura realized there was only one way. She rolled off the mattress, to the floor and pulled out her briefcase from under the bed. Her 9mm was wrapped up in the straps of its holster. The weapon felt reassuringly heavy at her side and just under the left armpit when she put the get up on. Next she inspected the weapon: Clip full, a round chambered and safety on. She slipped the gun back into the holster, put her jacket on and left the room.

Asha smiled when she saw who was at the door, "We were beginning to think you were avoiding us."

"No, not avoiding you," Maura's smile was tight, "but that isn't why I'm here. I'm going to check on Bridget."

"But she said ..."

"I can't wait here anymore."

Asha nodded. Tammi had joined them, "Give is a sec to get ready."

"You aren't coming."

"What!" the pair chorused.

"Nothing personal, but the two of you would only get under foot," Maura said, and when the other two made to protest, she used the tone that always worked on her kids, "This is not open to discussion."

Maura left instructions for the two to let the New York Coven know what she was doing. In the hotel lobby, after she'd checked out, she rented a car ... one of the perks of being in the FBI was she never had a problem getting a vehicle. 15 minutes later she was on the road, speeding east.

* * *

Bridget lay naked on the floor, her chest pressed into the rug, ass high in the air, her legs spread wide. Victoria and Prof. Sawyer sat in chairs behind her, inspecting her.

"She is lovely, isn't she," Prof. Sawyer said. Victoria agreed.

"Please!" Bridget begged.

"Please what?"

"Please let me ... god ... so hot ... please!"

"Ummmm," Sawyer made a show of thinking it over. "No!"

"I'll be good!"

"I'm sure you will," Sawyer chuckled. "But you were very bad to ever oppose me, and for that you need to be punished. Come back tomorrow and maybe I'll let you cum then."

Bridget scrambled to her feet and genuflected, "Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am."

Cindy waited for Bridget outside the office door, "What did she say?"

"No," the word was awash in disappointment, "maybe tomorrow."

Cindy made a sad face as she and Bridget started down the hall. Like Bridget, she was nude, "I'm sorry, but for what it's worth, I've seen how she looks at you. I don't think she'll make you wait much longer."

"I wish she'd hurry up. I'm going nuts here."

"I know," Cindy said sympathetically, then gave Bridget a chaste hug. "It won't be much longer, I'm sure. And when she starts letting you again, you'll find me, right?"

"Of course."

A wicked gleam appeared in Cindy's eyes, "Thanks, I'll see you around."

Cindy bounded up the nearby staircase. Bridget watched her go with a sigh. In the three days since she'd returned to the house, Cindy was the closest she'd come to making a friend. The girl was achingly beautiful, so much like the girls Bridget regularly seduced in high school and college, and so proud of the fact Prof. Sawyer had personally enthralled her, her mother and both her sisters. The thought of it made Bridget sick.

She quickly beat that emotion back; any slip in her façade could be dangerous. But there was no one nearby to see her. The hearing aid lodged deep in her ear canal itched maddeningly. Bridget wanted to pull it out and scratch. There were no control spheres nearby, but she couldn't take a chance either. With a violent shake of her head, which helped only a little, she started for the basement. She had only one more rune to find before she could put her plan in motion and the basement was the only place she hadn't had a chance to inspect.

* * *

Dusk was falling as the car rolled to a stop. Maura lowered the window, the cold air felt like a punch in the face, and raised her binoculars. An undeveloped lot lay between her and the Tastick mansion. Her view of the house and front gate was clear, not that there was anything to see. Things were very quiet. She turned on her radio, keeping the volume soft, sipped her coffee and started on her turkey wrap. She settled in for a long night.

* * *

Bridget had been in Victoria's basement exactly once, and if anything, the room had become even messier. She approached the north wall, looking for a spot where the clutter seemed relatively light. She worked slowly, her nudity leaving her anxious about injury. Finally she emptied a corridor through the mess, leaving her space enough to inspect the wall. And there she found it, a 4"x4" bas relief carving of Eros. Bridget had to drop to her knees to run her hand over it.

"What are you doing?"

Bridget stood up. At the foot of the stairs was a lovely, pale skinned brunette. Bridget needed a moment to recall her name ... Darla. Her father was the CEO of some huge company that had a role in Prof. Sawyer's ultimate plan. Whatever those plans were (she hadn't been able to figure out that yet) Bridget suspected this girl could get the Prof.'s attention.

"I was bored, so I went exploring," Bridget said, hoping she sounded innocent.

"You aren't supposed to be down here."

"Well, no one told me."

Darla approached Bridget with caution, "What were you doing there?"

"I found this cool sculpture ... take a look," Bridget stepped out of the corridor to let Darla in. She examined the carving closely before turning back to Bridget.

"I'd better go tell Prof. Sawyer."

Bridget blocked Darla's path. She hadn't tried any psionic domination since she'd arrived in the mansion; she had no idea what the interaction with Prof. Sawyer's conditioning would be. But desperate times ...

"I don't really think that'll be necessary, do you?" Bridget asked with a mental push.

Darla's head snapped back, "But ... it's really ... kinda' weird ..."

Bridget pushed again. Slogging through Darla's mind was like wading through deep snow, "Just because it's weird doesn't mean it's important. Why bother her until you know for sure?"

"I don't know ... I ..."

"Sleep on it," Bridget pushed again. A massive headache was forming behind her eyeballs.

"Yeah," Darla floundered, "sleep on it."

"Good. Let's head upstairs."

* * *

Before bed, Bridget visited the kitchen for a glass of water, then a second, then a third. She was on her 6th when Cindy noticed her.

"Thirsty?"

"It's good for your skin," Bridget replied.

"I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you tomorrow."

"Don't worry," Bridget smiled. "I have a good feeling."

* * *

Her father had taught her the trick on a camping trip when she was very young.

"If you need to get up early, and you don't have an alarm clock, drink lots and lots of water before you go to sleep," he'd said. "It's what the Indians used to do!"

The overpowering need to pee awoke her. Silently, and quickly, she made her way to the bathroom, then stepped into the hallway once her business was done. The nearby grandfather clock read 3:30a. The first of the runes was in the library, downstairs and on the other side of the house.

Though she was sure she was the only one up, she knew she wasn't the only one awake. The house wasn't silent, every step of the way she heard the quiet moans and gasps of women having sex. Tammi had been right, carnality was a 24 hour affair with Prof. Sawyer around. Tammi had been right about other things, Bridget recalled with a shudder: Humiliation, pain, urine, scat ... Bridget had felt shame for these women who were no longer capable of feeling it themselves. Prof. Sawyer enjoyed watching her slaves debase themselves; in that regard her "no sex" punishment had been a blessing. Bridget was sure she would not have been able to maintain her front had she been forced to participate.

In the library, Bridget slipped two fingers into her quim and smeared the moisture on the carving of Venus. With her hand still on the carving, she recited the incantation Cynthia had taught her. When she finished, the carving glowed like a dying ember. She repeated the procedure on the carving of Athena in the sitting room. The carving of Diana in the dining room presented a problem. Allie was there, sleeping on the dining room table, her body wrapped around Tara; Bridget recalled she was a college friend of Cindy's. Bridget had whispered the incantation here and sighed with profound relief when the carving began to glow. The final carving was the one she'd found a few hours earlier, that of Eros in the basement.

Cynthia had warned the effect would be almost immediate once the runes were activated. Still, Bridget was surprised by the rapidly growing need in her loins. She made her way back up the stairs, but in the hallway she saw light coming from the kitchen. Bridget ducked back into the staircase, leaving the door ajar slightly so she could watch who else was awake. A moment later, Leslie stepped into the hall, carrying a sandwich on a plate. Even from 20 feet away, Bridget could hear the ragged breathing of a girl suddenly, and inexplicably, aroused. Leslie had stopped to look up and down the hall before disappearing into the darkness of the house.

Bridget slowly counted to ten before stepping into the hall and heading to the foyer. Quietly she took the stairs two at a time, turning left at the top and tip-toeing to the master bedroom.

Prof. Sawyer was not alone. Two other women shared the king sized bed; a tall, curvaceous woman Bridget knew only as Sarah and Cindy's mother, Madison. Bridget pushed on the minds of the two the idea Prof. Sawyer wanted them to leave her bed and find another girl to couple with. Gently, so as to not wake their Mistress, first Sarah then Madison rose and slipped out of the room. Bridget climbed onto the bed. Prof. Sawyer groaned. Bridget saw she'd slid a hand between her legs. Sawyer rolled onto her back. Bridget forced the woman's legs apart, then moved the hand away. She ran the tip of her tongue along the length of Sawyer's slit.

"Whuuuh," Sawyer groaned. Bridget took another lick.

"Bridget?" Sawyer whispered after yet another stroke. A hand fell lightly on Bridget's head, fingers wrapping themselves in the girl's hair.

"Please," Bridget said. "I can't wait anymore. Please let me."

Using her fingers, Bridget pulled the soaking lips apart, exposing fully the Prof.'s twat. Bridget's tongue plunged deep into the steaming hole, then darted upwards to rake Sawyer's clit. The older woman's hips rose off the feed, feeding her cunt to the girl.

Sensory overload baffled Sawyer. She couldn't ever recall feeling as heated as she did now, and Bridget's mouth was incredible: soft but firm, gentle and strong, all at once. She knew she should be angry at the girl for disobeying her, but what she was doing ...

"Ohhh ... uhhh," Sawyer gave into the sensations. "Oh God!"

Using her hand, she pulled Bridget in deeper. The redhead was using her fingers now, it felt like two or three, thrusting in and out while her mouth worked the clit. Sawyer barely recognized her own voice as she urged Bridget along.

"Yes ... God yes ... don't ... more!"

Her arousal proceeded on two tracks, one of which would lead to the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced. Sawyer had no idea Bridget was this good and she cursed herself for not indulging sooner.

"Oh ... ohhh .... Ohhhh!"

The second track flitted on the edge of her consciousness, growing in strength with each wonderful motion of Bridget's tongue, coming into focus. It was something Sawyer recognized, though couldn't place, like something she hadn't thought about in a long time.

"Wha ... whu ... what ... what are you doing?"

Layer by layer, the heat of her arousal burned away the confusion. She could see that second track for what it was. Power ... power to be wielded by another.

"No ... no ... noooo ... stop."

Now she realized, she'd fallen into a trap. She looked down. The adoration and devotion in Bridget's eyes were gone now, replaced with the cold, dead stare of someone who knew what needed to be done and was willing to do it. She placed both hands on Bridget's head, intending to push her away. Instead, she held her in place as her hips began to piston.

"Stop ... stop ... stop, stop ... please stop!"

Sawyer heard herself begging. It disgusted her, but there was nothing she could do. Her arousal, and the way Bridget manipulated it, left her powerless. All she wanted was to cum, to shower her essence on Bridget's face, then to apply her mouth to Bridget's fabulous cunt. But to give in to the arousal necessarily meant giving into that other imperative. It meant seceding control to someone else, to Bridget, that which she normally reserved to herself. She held out, she tried to resist, but she knew she would lose.

"No ... please ... no ... no ... stop ... don't!"

There was a blinding light, which both constricted and filled her vision, followed by the roar of white water which, as it faded away, was replaced by the sound of her own groans. Her hands went to her head, fingers clenching at her hair, as she panted through the last of her orgasm. Finally there was the sensation of something rifling through her mind, she though of cards being shuffled, followed by a wave of vertigo.

When she regained her bearings, Sawyer was lying on her side. Bridget had found a change of cloths and was rapidly stuffing more clothing into a laundry bag. She watched Bridget work, thinking she'd never seen a more beautiful creature in all her life.

"Let me try to explain," she began.

"Shut up!" Bridget snapped. It cut at Prof. Sawyer, deeply, to realize Bridget didn't enjoyed what had just happened. "How many control spheres are there and where are they?"

"Two. They're in the safe in the office."

Bridget cinched the bag shut, "Get up and show me."

Sawyer led the way, the pair moving at a brisk jog. The induction effect of the house, its ability to undue the conditioning of the control spheres, was taking hold; Bridget heard a chorus of screams rising in the mansion. What had been cries of arousal were now equally intense in horror. As best she could, Bridget ignored the wails and concentrated on her next, immediate steps: Secure the control spheres, find Victoria, Allie and Leslie, get away.

They made it to the office without incident. Sawyer opened the safe and handed over the spheres.

"What about me?"

"What about you?" Bridget spat as she thrust the spheres into the bag.

Sawyer explained, "I'm one of you now."

Bridget shook her head. If Prof. Sawyer had never used the control sphere on herself, or made herself immune to its effect, that meant she'd been inducted. The implications of her as an inducted member of The Association were profound ... but there wasn't time to work them all out now.

"You wait here for someone to collect you," Bridget said. "If you're one of us now, you understand why you can never speak of The Association ..."

Sawyer nodded.

For the sake of emphasis, Bridget repeated, "You can NEVER speak of The Association to anyone who hasn't been inducted."

"I won't, I swear!"

Bridget had no idea if Sawyer would hold to that. All she knew was that, for now, it would have to do, "Then have a seat and wait for someone to come and get you."

Bridget left, and Sawyer took the chair behind the desk.

"This is what it feels like to lose," she thought as she stared at the bookcase.

* * *

Maura's eyelids felt like lead and her eyeballs like brillo. Her head rolled drunkenly on her shoulders. She could feel herself dozing off ... it was like slipping on ice in slow motion. Through force of will she pried her eyes open and snapped her head up. The clock on the dashboard read 4a, and Maura felt the weariness all over again. She'd been at it for almost 12 hours and she hadn't seen a thing. She wasn't even sure she'd recognize it if she did see it, and if she did, she had no idea what she was going to do about it. It would be so much easier to grab some sleep, maybe just an hour, and think it over when her brain wasn't so addled.

A light snapped on in the Tastick Mansion, which Maura wouldn't have found unusual had it not been followed immediately by two more. She held up her binoculars. The shades of the rooms were drawn, but she could make out the shadows of people moving to and fro within. By the time she lowered the glasses, every light in the mansion was ablaze. Maura got out of the car and jogged across the lot until she was directly across the street from the house. In the moonlight, she could make out movement in front of the house. Looking through the glasses again, she saw a mass of women pouring from the house's front door. Maura ran across the street, she guessed there were 20-25 women now running for their lives down the drive.

She pounded on the door to the shack. The guard had been asleep, but now he jerked awake.

"Call 9-1-1, tell them there's a problem up here and that an FBI agent is on the scene."

The guard looked at her as if she'd sprouted a third head.

Maura pointed up the driveway, "Do it ... NOW!"

The guard saw what was coming and reached for the phone.

Maura stepped into the middle of the drive; the first of the women were within 30 feet of her. Some of them wore light robes or underwear, most of them were naked. Maura knew they wouldn't last long in the cold, but the women showed no sign of slowing down. She reached into her jacket, drew her weapon and fired two shots into the air. The women skidded to a halt.

"Federal Agent!" she yelled as she displayed her ID. "Everyone stay where they are!"

Silence, but for the sound of the wind. A chocking/gasping sound came from deep within the crowd, then all of the women began weeping. Maura herded them together.

Local PD was on the scene within two minutes, in the form of three cruisers. Maura flashed her ID at the first cop she saw.

"Get as many cars and ambulances up here quick as you can. We need to get them out of the cold ..."

"The fuck?" the cop stared slack jawed at the mass of naked women.

"Focus!" Maura snapped. The cop tore himself away, "Cruisers, ambulances and lots of blankets, got it?"




Worlds Colliding Ch. 06



The cop nodded.

"Good. Get these people out of the cold, but under NO circumstances are they to leave."

The cop nodded again.

"Then have your people call the local FBI field office and tell them to get some agents up here immediately. Tell 'em they'd better get Homeland Security up here also."

"What the hell?"

"Listen," Maura continued. "You gather up these women, and you get them warm. But do not question them. No one, and I mean no one, is to be questioned until the Feds get here. If any of your people start indulging their curiosity, it's your ass!"

She didn't wait for an answer, her point had been made. She ran for the house, pushed the front door open with her foot and crept in, arms extended, gun at the ready. The smell in the house was indescribable; Maura gagged and her eyes watered. The house echoed with the sounds of women alternately screaming and sobbing. She cocked her head ... she couldn't detect the telltale hiss of an activated control sphere, and considering all the background noise, she was reasonably sure it wouldn't work anyway. Not according to what Janice had told her, at least. But was she willing to bet her freewill on it? Biting on her lower lip, she took another step into the house. Shadows moved along a wall at the top of the stairs. She could make out their whispered voices. Maura went up the stairs, quickly and silently. At the top, she pivoted 90 degrees to her left and into the hall, dropping to one knee.

"Freeze!" she yelled. Bridget and three other stood 15 feet away, all looking like their hearts were in their mouths.

"Christ, I'm sorry," Maura holstered her gun and gave Bridget a hug.

"What are you doing here?"

"The waiting was driving me nuts. I've got some back up on the way," Maura looked over the rest of the party, "Victoria?"

"Am I glad to see you," Victoria spread her arms, eyes brimming with tears.

"Allie and Leslie, I presume?" she asked as Victoria hugged her.

The two girls nodded dully.

"Where are the control spheres?" Maura asked.

"She only had two. They're both in here," Bridget pulled clothing from a laundry bag, throwing the garments at Victoria, Leslie and Allie before handing the bag to Maura.

"Do you guys have a way of getting out of here without being seen?" Bridget nodded that she did. "Then I think you guys should take off. Call me on my cell when you've settled in somewhere."

"I doubt I can get out of speaking to the police, considering what's been going on in my own house. What's our story?" Victoria asked.

Maura thought quickly, "Home invasion. If anyone asks, tell 'em Prof. Sawyer and her crazies took over and you went along to stay alive."

"You think they'll buy that?"

"The story doesn't have to be perfect. It just has to buy us enough time to get these," Maura held up the bag, "into the right hands. Once that happens, believe me, they'll cover this thing up so deep it'll never see the light of day again."

Victoria nodded as everyone put on the cloths Bridget had given them.

"And where's Prof. Sawyer?"

"I left her down in the office after I got the control spheres. We have to go that way to sneak out of here. Follow me," Bridget led the way.

At the bottom of the stairs, Maura snuck a look out the front door. She counted seven cruisers now and an equal number of ambulances, along with fire engines and other rescue vehicles ... as well as a few of the black Lincoln Continentals the Feds used. Time was becoming a factor ... they'd begin searching the house anytime now.

"See if you can stall them, even for just five minutes," Maura urged Victoria, who simply nodded and headed out the door.

Prof. Sawyer sat at what was, once again, Victoria's desk. Maura entered first, weapon trained at Sawyer's chest. The sitting woman made no move to explain, or rationalize or even hide; she just continued to stare at the bookcase to her left. Maura indicated the other three should follow her in. Bridget led them through the door on the other side of the room.

"I want you to stand up and come around to the front of the desk," Maura ordered after the three had left. Sawyer did as she was told. "Kneel down and lace your fingers behind your head."

Again, Sawyer did as she was told. Maura secured the first cuff on Sawyer's right wrist and guided her arms down behind her back to secure the second. She lifted Sawyer to her feet then noticed a blanket on the nearby couch. She wrapped it around Sawyer's shoulders and led her out of the office.

"You have the right to remain silent," Maura began, stifling a laugh as she did. She'd always been a behind the scenes player. In all her years with the FBI, Prof. Sawyer was the first person Maura ever arrested.

She led Sawyer out of the house and down the drive. As they approached the guard shack, some of the Prof.'s former thralls noticed her and began screeching hate and invective. If Sawyer noticed, she gave no indication. Maura passed her off to a clean cut kid whose whole look screamed "Federal".

"Isolate her. Don't let her near any of the others," Maura cautioned.

"Will do, ma'am," the kid said and led Sawyer away.

An older looking Fed took the kid's place, "You Hunt?"

Maura nodded.

"You mind telling me what the hell is going on here?"

Maura smiled ever so slightly, "Homeland Security here yet?"

Another older Fed stepped forward, hand raised, "Bob Loosey."

Maura's smile broke wide open. She placed the bag on the hood of a nearby car, "Loosey, you got some 'splainin' to do."

* * *

"It's nice things are getting back to normal," Bridget thought as she drove past the guard shack to Victoria's house; Chuck's only reaction being a friendly wave hello. She parked in her usual spot and let herself in. She couldn't detect the reek from Prof. Sawyer's days anymore ... and it had only taken a month and a half to clear the funk out!

"Yes," she thought again, "definitely nicer."

She found Victoria in her office, reviewing some notes. The older woman waved Bridget into a chair.

"Spring break next week, I see," she began.

"Yup."

"Got any plans?"

"I was thinking about a long weekend out of town. After that, play it by ear."

"I think you should. Lord knows you've earned it."

Bridget smiled. That went easier than she'd hoped, "What have we got today?"

Victoria's agenda was brief: Reviewing how their Coven was reintegrating into The Association and how their girls were reintegrating into their Coven. All in all, Bridget and Victoria agreed, it could have been worse. Much worse.

"Which leaves only two issues," Victoria concluded.

Bridget could only think of one, "Leslie?"

"Leslie," Victoria confirmed.

Prof. Sawyer had claimed four members of their Coven: Leslie, Tammi, Allie and Victoria. All of them had eagerly chosen to return to The Association. All of them except Leslie.

"I've been speaking with the Covenheads," Victoria continued. "They'd like to know what you think should be done about her."

"Keep an eye on her," Bridget said immediately, "but let her go."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"I don't know about wise. I think it's the better of two bad choices," Bridget said. "Let's face it, she's smart and she's driven, so I don't think there's much we can offer her that she can't get for herself, and she knows it. Plus she's an Alpha female ... she just isn't cut out to take orders from you or me or anyone else. She's got to do her thing, her way and she can't do that with us."

"You aren't worried about someone not in The Association knowing about us?"

"Sure I am. But she's smart enough to keep her mouth shut, and if she talks, who's going to believe her?"

"The Covenheads felt much the same. Leslie will be allowed to go her own way," Victoria said as she made a note in her log.

On a level that surprised her, Bridget felt happy for Leslie, "So, what's the other issue?"

"The other issue, my dear, is you."

Bridget blinked, "Me?"

Victoria nodded, "Everyone's please, of course, that things are getting back to normal so quickly, but the Covenheads feel some changes need to be made here. I'll be staying on, at least until you finish school, but my role will be more like an advisor."

She paused to gather herself, "As of right now, however, you are the new Covenhead."

"No!" Bridget exploded. "That isn't fair. What happened was not your fault!"

"No one is saying it was my fault," Victoria replied. "But there's a sense that I've been ... compromised and I don't disagree with that view."

"But I'm not ready."

"Bridget, there's very little left that I can teach you. And as to out late crisis, you showed courage, you showed initiative, you showed creativity and you showed wisdom, more than I did, certainly. Those are qualities anyone would want in a leader."

Bridget felt miserable, "But I don't want it."

"Dear, the decision has already been made," Victoria said kindly. "This is what you've been groomed for since I met you. I know you thought you'd build a coven of your own. I thought so also. But we need you here. There's no one else who can do this."

Bridget cast a helpless glance out the window. It was inescapable.

* * *

The doctors the government people had referred her to helped, so did the pills the doctors gave her for when she felt stressed. She talked once a week with the doctors about what happened to her and how she was going to get past it. She felt like she was getting past it. Then she'd seen something, and heard some other things, and Cindy realized that whatever healing was going on, there were things she was avoiding, things she felt deep in her soul, and these things needed to be confronted.

It began with her younger sister on a Friday night. Cindy had moved back home afterwards; it was just her, her mother and her Holly now. Her older sister, Laurie, had moved out years ago and was trying to put that life back together on her own. Her father was living in an apartment across town ... her parents marriage had been one of the casualties of what she now called the "whole Prof. Sawyer thing".

Cindy had stayed in that night, it was easier for her that way. She was watching movies when a car pulled into the drive way, its headlights traced a path across the darkened living room, but there'd been no following sound of doors opening and closing, no one calling "good bye" or "good night". Curious, Cindy had peeked out a front window. She recognized the car, it belonged to Holly's friend Elizabeth. She recognized Holly and Elizabeth in the car, locked in a clinch and sharing the kind of kiss lovers gave each other. Cindy ran back to the couch, focused on the movie and successfully beat down the yearnings that were so much a part of her privacy lately.

She watched Holly closely over the next few days. Of all the women in her family, she'd suspected Holly was dealing the best with their shared trauma. She seemed to be the one most rapidly recovering her strength, her normalcy, her equilibrium. And, Cindy now noticed, she was spending a lot of time with Elizabeth.

The second thing came during a phone call to Laurie. There'd been no agenda, no secret purpose; she'd just wanted to chat with her sister. And they had been chatting right up to the moment Cindy heard a female voice in the background ask if Laurie wanted to go out for dinner or stay in. The last part had been said in a way that promised something far more. Cindy had recognized the voice, it came back to Cindy in a rush, that day at Gracie's house when her sisters and her mother had been taken. Dana had taken Laurie.

Dana ... sucking at Laurie's box ... and Laurie unable to stop her ... not wanting to stop her ... Dana ... with that adorable little tuft of hair right over her puss ... and that round ass ... and the thick auburn hair ... and those gorgeous tits ...

In the silent interval, Laurie realized Cindy had heard and remembered. She excused herself quickly and hung up.

The final thing came a few days later, when she'd gone to the State Forest, expecting to spend the day. She usually found the long walks among the trees calming, but she hadn't been feeling it that day, and she'd cut the trip short. Her Mom's car was in the driveway when she got home, but there was nothing unusual in that. What had been unusual was her Mom being so hard to find. She wasn't in the kitchen, or the living room, or the laundry. Cindy went upstairs, close enough now to hear the noises coming from her mother's bedroom: The squeak of the springs, the bang of the headboard and the cries of a woman loving how she was being fucked, a woman being fucked by Cindy's mother.

"Oh God ... Oh my God ... Yes Maddie ... Like that, yes ... Oh God ... Where did you learn THAT!"

The others had made their choice and now it was time for hers.

She chose to drive north, three hours, to the college town where it all began for her, to the little house off campus where she'd spent so much time after it all began.

"Go away," Gracie hissed when she saw Cindy and tried to close the door.

Cindy jammed her foot against the door, "I just want to talk."

"No!"

"Please," Cindy begged. "I can't stop thinking about you."

Gracie stopped pushing, but gave no ground, "It isn't real ... it was all her!"

She knew what Gracie meant by "her". The Prof. Sawyer Thing, "It isn't all her. Every time I thing about her I want to throw up, but that's not how I feel when I think about you."

Cindy could hear Gracie's breathing, "I miss you, and I know you miss me too ... I know it! Can't we please just talk about it?"

The resistance behind the door slackened and Cindy stepped inside. Gracie looked at her with a melancholy smile. Cindy returned it with real smile, bright and wide. She held out her arms. Gracie stepped into them.

* * *

Bridget shifted the pack slung over her shoulder and whistled absentmindedly as the elevator made its way up. She stepped out when the doors opened and looked the hallway over carefully. Same rug ... same wallpaper, not that she'd really expected any drastic changes. She'd been gone less than two months. It was just that when she'd left the Lexington Hotel, she was sure she'd never come back. But she was looking forward to this. Somehow her surrounding should have reflected that. But they didn't.

The room was halfway down the hall. Bridget knocked, then wondered why she did, considering she'd been given a key at the front desk.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. C'mon, let me in. I'm tired."

Maura wore only a sheer negligee, a blunt indication of what she had in mind for their long weekend together. Bridget altogether approved, especially when Maura pulled her into the room, gathered her up and planted an emphatically non-platonic kiss on the redhead's mouth.

"Congratulations on your promotion, by the way," she purred before they kissed again.

Afterwards. After the dinner, after the show and after the sex, as they lay panting and sweaty on the bed, Maura ran her hand along Bridget's hip.

"What's on your mind?"

"What makes you think something is on my mind?"

"You've seemed kind of distant all night."

"I'm sorry," Bridget whispered and rolled on her side to look at Maura.

"It's okay, I'm not mad. Just curious."

"Heard anything about Prof. Sawyer lately?"

Maura laughed, "Not a thing, and that's no accident. I doubt they'll risk anything as messy or public as an indictment, let alone a trial. I'm sure, by now, they've found her a very pleasant, very comfortable place to live in the middle of nowhere and she'll be allowed to live pleasantly and comfortably for however long she decided to help them make control spheres or until they figure out how to make them without her help. After that ..."

Maura shrugged, "... who knows? One way or another, we've heard the last of her. Why do you ask?"

"I've been thinking about her lately ... a lot."

"And?"

Bridget sighed heavily, "And I'm thinking we really aren't that different or better than she was."

"That isn't true! You of all people should know better!"

"It's because I know better that I think it may be true."

"We're completely different."

"How? Because I'm not seeing it."

"We're different because The Association doesn't turn people into slaves," Maura said. "We're different because we reward out people and open doors for them, we're different because we give our people choices ..."

"Choices," Bridget repeated. "That's an interesting word. Did The Association give you a choice when they inducted you? Did they give me one? No. They just took what they wanted and the reason the Covenheads are so bent out of shape over the whole Prof. Sawyer thing is they don't like the shoe on the other foot. And even after all of that, they didn't give me a choice when they made me a Covenhead. I just had to take it. And did you know they're actually talking about inducting some of the women Prof. Sawyer captured, like these people haven't been through enough already. They haven't learned a thing."

"Okay," Maura nodded reasonably. "But The Association gave Victoria, Allie, Tammi and Leslie the choice to come back and 3 out of four took it. With those kind of odds, we can't be all bad."

"I'm not saying we're all bad, just that there are a few lessons from this whole thing we could be absorbing, but we aren't," Bridget replied. "And if three out of four women will freely choose to join us, then why can't we do that all the time? When we need to recruit, why can't we just show the girls what we're about and ask them to decide."

"I don't know," Maura smiled and gave Bridget a fortifying kiss, "but you're asking the wrong person. You're a Covenhead now, you can do something about it."

Maura snuggled up against Bridget and in a few seconds was asleep. For the longest time, before she fell asleep, Bridget stared at the ceiling and felt wholly inadequate to the task she'd been given.

-Fin-